Page 34 of Sons and Fathers


  CHAPTER XXXIV.

  THE FACE OF THE BODY-SNATCHER.

  The methods of Royson's emissary were simple and direct. One day hewandered in among the negroes at Ilexhurst in search of a lost houndpuppy, for Dick was a mighty hunter, especially of the midnight 'possum.

  No one had seen the puppy, but all were ready to talk, and the death ofRita had been the latest sensation. From them he obtained every detailfrom the time Edward had carried the body in his arms to the littlehouse, until it had been buried under the crooked cedar in theplantation burying-ground.

  The body had been dressed by two of the women. There had been a littleblood on her head, from a small wound in the left temple, where she hadcut herself against the glass when she was "taken with a fit."

  The coffin was a heavy metal one and the top screwed on. That was all.

  When Royson received the report of the cut in the head and the blood,his breath almost forsook him. Morgan might have been innocent, but whata chain of circumstantial evidence! If Dick should return to tell himsome morning that the false wound he was to make was already on the spotselected, he would not be surprised. So far he could show a motive forthe crime, and every circumstance necessary to convict his enemy withit. All he needed was a cause of death.

  Dick's precautions in this venture were novel, from the Caucasianstandpoint. His superstition was the strongest feature of his depravedmind. The negro has an instinctive dread of dead bodies, but a dead andburied cadaver is to him a horror.

  In this instance, however, Dick's superstition made his sacrilegepossible; for while he believed firmly in the reappearance and power ofdeparted spirits, he believed equally in the powers of the voodoo tocontrol or baffle them. Before undertaking his commission, he went toone of these voodoo "doctors," who had befriended him in more than oneperil, and by the gift of a fat 'possum secured a charm to protect him.

  The dark hour came, and at midnight to the little clump of trees camealso Slippery Dick. His first act was to bore a hole with an auger inthe cedar, insert the voodoo charm and plug the hole firmly. Thischained the spirit of the dead. Then with a spade and working rapidly,he threw the mound aside and began to toss out the earth from above thecoffin. In half an hour his spade laid the wooden case bare. Somedifficulty was experienced in removing the screws, but down in thatcavity, the danger from using matches was reduced to a minimum, and bythe aid of these he soon loosened the lid and removed it. To lift thisout, and take off the metal top of the burial case, was the work of buta few minutes longer, and the remains of poor Rita were exposed to view.

  In less than an hour after his arrival Slippery Dick had executed hiscommission and was filling up the grave. With the utmost care he presseddown the earth and drew up the loosened soil.

  There had been a bunch of faded flowers upon the mound; he restoredthese and with a sigh of relief shouldered his spade and auger and tookhis departure, glad to leave the grewsome spot.

  But a dramatic pantomime had been enacted near him which he never saw.While he was engaged in marking the head of the lifeless body, theslender form of a man appeared above him and shrank back in horror atthe discovery. This man turned and picked up the heavy spade and swungit in air. If it had descended the negro would have been brained. Butthought is a monarch! Slowly the arm descended, the spade was laid uponthe ground, and the form a moment before animated with an overwhelmingpassion stood silent and motionless behind the cedar.

  When the negro withdrew, this man followed, gliding from cover to cover,or following boldly in the open, but at all times with a tread as softas a panther's. Down they went, the criminal and his shadow, down intothe suburbs, then into the streets and then into the heart of the city.Near the office of Amos Royson the man in front uttered a peculiarwhistle and passed on. At the next corner under the electric lamp heturned and found himself confronted by a slender man, whose face shonewhite under the ghastly light of the lamp, whose hair hung upon hisshoulders, and whose eyes were distended with excitement. Uttering a cryof fright, the negro sprang from the sidewalk into the gutter, but theother passed on without turning except to cross the street, where in afriendly shadow he stopped. And as he stood there the negro retraced hissteps and paused at the door of the lawyer's office. A dimly outlinedform was at the window above. They had no more than time to exchange aword when the negro went on and the street was bare, except that asquare away a heavy-footed policeman was approaching.

  The man in the shadow leaned his head against a tree and thought. In hisbrain, standing out as distinct as if cut from black marble, was theface of the man he had followed.

  Gerald possessed the reasoning faculty to an eminent degree, but it hadbeen trained altogether upon abstract propositions. The small affairs oflife were strange and remote to him, and the passions that animate thehuman breast were forces and agencies beyond his knowledge andcalculations.

  Annie Montjoy, with the facts in his possession, would have reachedinstantly a correct conclusion as to their meaning. He could not handlethem. His mind was absolutely free of suspicion. He had wandered to thelittle graveyard, as he had before when sleepless and harassed, anddiscovered that some one was disfiguring the body of his lifelongfriend. To seize the spade and wreak vengeance upon the intruder was hisfirst impulse, but at the moment that it should have fallen he saw thatthe head of the woman was being carefully replaced in position and theclothing arranged. He paused in wonder. The habitual opium-eaterdevelops generally a cunning that is incomprehensible to the normalmind, and curiosity now controlled Gerald. The moment for action hadpassed. He withdrew behind the tree to witness the conclusion of thedrama.

  His following the retreating figure was but the continuance of his newmood. He would see the affair out and behold the face of the man.Succeeding in this he went home, revolving in mind the strangeexperience he had gained.

  But the excitement would not pass away from him, and in the solitude ofhis studio, with marvelous skill he drew in charcoal the scene as itshone in memory--the man in the grave, the sad, dead face of the woman,shrinking into dissolution, and then its every detail perfect, upon aseparate sheet the face of the man under the lamp. The memories nolonger haunted him. They were transferred to paper.

  Then Gerald underwent the common struggle of his existence; he lay downand tossed upon his pillow; he arose and read and returned again. Atlast came the surrender, opium and--oblivion.

  Standing by the easel next morning, Virdow said to Edward: "The braincannot survive this many years. When dreams of memories such as these,vivid enough to be remembered and drawn, come upon it, when the wakingmind holds them vivid, it is in a critical condition." He looked sadlyupon the sleeper and felt the white wrist that overlay the counterpane.The flesh was cold, the pulse slow and feeble. "Vitality small," hesaid. "It will be sudden when it comes; sleep will simply extend intoeternity."

  Edward's mind reverted to the old general. What was his own duty? Hewould decide. It might be that he would return no more, and if he didnot, and Gerald was left, he should have a protector.

  Virdow had been silent and thoughtful. Now he turned with suddendecision.

  "My experiments will probably end with the next," he said. "The truthis, I am so thoroughly convinced that the cultivation of this singularpower which Gerald possesses is destructive of the nervous system Icannot go on with them. In some way the young man has wound himselfabout me. I will care for him as I would a son. He is all gold." The oldman passed out abruptly, ashamed of the feeling which shook his voice.

  But Edward sat upon the bed and taking the white hand in his own,smoothed it gently, and gave himself up to thought. What did it mean?And how would it end? The sleeper stirred slightly. "Mother," he said,and a childish smile dwelt for a moment upon his lips. Edward replacedthe hand upon the counterpane and withdrew.

 
Harry Stillwell Edwards's Novels