title: The Darkwood tragedy,
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Two Cof^M RficetvCD MAY. 12 1902 CotVRHJHT CNTRV CLASS It XXc. No. ^ V r / ^ COPY 0. COPYRIGHT, 1902, BY THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY »* t t < <• < C<C ^ « K t, t t C < C C C < < < t fee < 1 < <. « < <. < cc< I c c < » ( etc < < , e t , € 1 c t  E. N. SOUTHWORTH WHOSE SYMPATHY, ENCOURAGEMENT AND ADVICE HAVE EVER INSPIRED THE BEST EFFORTS OF THE AUTHOR CHAPTER I. ‘ ‘ All murders past do stand excused in this — And this so sole, and so unmatchable, Shall prove a deadly bloodshed but a jest Exampled by this henious spectacle.” ‘‘Help ! Murder ! Help I’^ The uncanny words rang forth on the still night air with distinctness at first, and then in a more sup- pressed tone were repeated — “Help V* Then all was still. The first shrill cry aroused the inmates of Dark- wood Villa, who rushed from the house in alarm. The call for help had emanated from the grounds, and in that direction they bent their steps, appalled by the thought that someone was being murdered within the very gates of the Villa. “From which direction did that cry come asked Philip Darkwood, turning to the others, who were following his lead. “It sounded to me as if it came from the direction of the lodge'’ nervously answered Caro Darkwood, his cousin. “What Caro ! You out here ? I thought you were in bed asleep. Did you hear that first cry ?” “Yes ; I was awake, and as soon as those dreadful words rang forth I jumped from my bed and ran to the window, when I heard it repeated, as if the person lo THE DARKWOOD TRAGEDY who Uttered it was being strangled. Oh ! Cousin I hilip, who could it have been “We will soon find out, he answered hoarsely. “Come, we will go toward the lodge, as Caro sug- gests,” he added, turning and addressing those be- hind. Suddenly Caro exclaimed : “Cousin Philip, where is papa ? I wonder if he didn't hear that terrible cry.” “Is he not with us ? Caro, you had better return to the house. This is no place for you,” returned Philip Darkwood nervously. “I intend to remain, however, and see who uttered those distressing cries. Why should I not see as well as the rest of you ? I am not a coward, as you well know.” “I know you are not a coward, but Caro you would not care to look upon a murdered man.” “How do you know it is a man ? Did you hear it £0 distinctly as to distinguish whether it was a man or woman ?” she asked sharply. “Not more distinctly than the rest of you, I sup- pose, but it sounded to me like a man’s voice. Did it not to you ?” “I could scarcely tell. It was so sudden, and sent such a horrible feeling through me, that I could not say whether it was a man’s voice or a woman’s,” she answered, as a shiver passed over her frame. “Well, if you will come I cannot prevent you ; but, believe me, it would be advisable for you to return to—” “Oh heaven ! What is this ?” shrieked Celine, Caro’s maid, as she stumbled over something in her path. “Oh Mr. Philip, bring the lantern here quick !” They all rushed to the spot where Celine stood. THE DARKWOOD TRAGEDY II frightened nearly to death at her discovery of the murdered person, whoever it was. Philip Darkwood threw the light of the lantern upon rhe face of the man, for man it proved to be, when — '‘Papa ! Oh my heart I Papa shrieked Caro Darkwood, as she caught a glimpse of the man's face. She fell on her knees beside the still form and then — “Oh papa, papa ! He has been murdered ! Look ! Look ! Blood ! See, his throat has been cut. Oh ! who committed this cruel deed ? He was all I had. All ! And now some one has robbed me of him. Oh papa ! I will find your murderer, I will avenge you ; I swear it ! Oh < I — " “Catch her, quick I” cried Celine, as she saw her mistress about to fall. Javins, the butler, caught her before she fell. The excitement and horror of the discovery of her mur- dered father had been too much for her, and she had fainted away into merciful oblivion. “Celine, you and Javens take her to the house,” commanded Philip Darkwood. “Now, Dabney, go and get something that will serve as a stretcher, while John goes for the doctor. I cannot believe that he is dead. Oh ! who could have done this dastardly deed, and what could have been the object ? Poor Uncle Jack, this is terrible !” exclaimed Philip Darkwood. “Are you going to stay here alone, Mr. Philip, until I come back ?” asked Dabney. “Yes, I will stay by poor uncle. Why not?” “Ugh ! I wouldn’t stay alone with a dead man for something pretty, I wouldn’t.” “Hurry dong, man, I am not a coward like you,” he answered nervously. 12 THK DARKWOOD TRAGEDY And yet when left alone with the murdered man he began to tremble violently and an uncanny feeling stole over him. ‘'Ugh !” he exclaimed to himself, “what if Caro should carry out her threat ? God, this will never do V* as he pulled a flask from his pocket and placed it to his lips. “Ah, that’s better. I must be discreet. Ah, my beautiful cousin, I will get you yet in spite of your dislike to me. Yes, will get you and your money too. And if you track your father’s murderer it will not be my fault. Pshaw ! A girl like that to think of doing such a thing ! She will never suc- ceed, never ! I’ll see that you do not, my haughty cousin,” he muttered as he took another pull at the flask before returning it to his pocket. While he stood and gazed on the still, cold face of his uncle as if fascinated by the sight of the blood upon his neck and clothing, a shiver passed over him, and he reeled like a drunken man, and would have fallen had he not caught at the trunk of a tree for support. “Heavens ! I could have sworn that he raised his arm and pointed his forefinger at me. And yet I know he is stiff and cold in death. Ugh ! Will I see such sights all the rest of my life ? I will see that look on his face until I die. I wish Dabney would hurry. If I have to stay here much longer alone I shall go mad. I thought I was not a coward, but that look, that look ! I shall never forget it ! Never ! I almost wish — ” He straightened up as he heard the footsteps of Dabney and Javins returning with an old couch between them. “Here, Mr. Philip, we have brought this. Shall we place him on it now or shall me wait until the doctor THE DARKWOOD TRAGEDY 13 comes ? If he is alive it may be dangerous to move him.” '‘Take him to the house. He would be more apt to die lying out here in the dampness, if he is not already dead. But I fear the doctor can do no good when he does come, because I am confident now that he is dead. Why, man, he is stiff and cold now. He was warm when we first found him, but you can see for yourself that life is extinct.’’ “Yes, Mr. Philip, I believe it is. Who could have had a grudge against poor master ? It is horrible to think of ! Murdered within his own gates. Mur- dered in cold blood, while we, who would have given our lives for him, were asleep. Where is the lodge- keeper ? He surely must have heard him when he called for help. I have not seen him since we came out.” “Javins,” said Philip, go down to the lodge and see if he knows anything of this. It does seem strange that he has not made his appearance.” He returned in a few minutes with a puzzled look, exclaiming : “Why, Mr. Philip, he is in bed, and I could not waken him. Indeed, he looks to me like he has been drugged, from the heavy way he was breath- ing. If you believe me, sir, I believe the same hand that murdered poor master has drugged the lodge- keeper so that he could not hear and give an alarm before he made his escape.” “Perhaps so. This is very mysterious,” returned Philip, unsteadily. “Take the body to the house, and I will go down to the lodge and see if your suspicion that the keeper has been drugged is correct. I will follow you in a few minutes.” When left to himself, instead of going to the lodge, as he said he would, he began to pace backward and 14 the darkwood tragedy forward beneath the trees. ‘T am becoming an out and out fool to let the sight of his blood affect me so. What has come over me anyway, that I am becoming such a coward. Ugh ! What was that ? I could swear that I heard him groaning again. Good heavens! I must get away from this. I will return to the house. Anything is better than remaining out here,” he muttered. Hurrying back to the villa, he ascended the veranda steps just as the doctor arrived, followed by the ser- vant, who had been sent for him. After examining the body the doctor remarked : ‘Tt was useless, my dear friends, to send for me. The man is dead. You have my sympathy in your great sorrow, but I am powerless to aid you. How horrible that he should be cut down so with out a minute's warning I Who could have committed so ghastly a crime ?” ‘‘We have no idea,” replied Philip Darkwood, com- ing forward. 'T did not know that Uncle Jack had an enemy in the world. And the object could not have been robbery, because nothing is missing from his person. "'But what was he doing in the grounds at so late an hour ?” queried Dr. Ames. THE DARKWOOD TRAGEDY 15 *‘That is the mystery of it. It may be that he was feeling badly and went out into the night air. I can account for it in no other way/^ returned Philip. While he was speaking, a slight figure entered the library, with great, slumbrous dark eyes, that had a look of wild despair within their depths, — Caro Darkwood, the murdered man’s daughter. She went up to the still form lying on the couch and cried : “Oh papa, papa !” “My dear Miss Caro, you should not look on such scenes as this,” said Dr. Ames as he took her hand in tender pity. “Why should I not ?” she asked. “Did I not hear him when he cried for help ? Did I not see him when he was lying there with blood all around him ? Oh doctor, I shall never forget it, never ! And I shall find his murderer,” she con- tinued. “I shall find him and make him suffer for the terrible crime he has committed. Here by the murdered body of my father, I swear to avenge him 1 I, and I alone, will do it. And I feel that God will let me live until I have found my father’s murderer, and brought him to justice.” “Miss Caro, you should put this in the hands of a detective,” said the doctor. “No, I shall not do that. I have sworn that I will find this wretch who has robbed me of my all, and I will keep my oath !” she cried hoarsely. Clasping her little hands and placing them to her head she rocked to and fro, feeling as if her head and heart were bursting. i6 THE DARKWOOD TRAGEDY Until now, Caro’s terrible agony had been a tearless one, and how truly the poet has written that ‘'The eyes that cannot weep Are the saddest eyes of all.” But as she buried her face in her hands, tears came to her relief to ease her tortured brain. Celine at last persuaded her to go to her room and lie down. The weeping exhausted her, so that at last she sank to sleep ; but even this brought her little re- lief, for in her dreams she beheld the still form of her murdered father with blood all around him, and she would cry out in her sleep. After Caro left the library and the doctor had taken his departure, Philip Darkwood paced to and fro in wild excitement. He could say with Shakespeare, ‘T would not spend another such night Though it were to buy a world of happy days — So ’’iull of dismal terror was the time.” And the time he was left alone with the dead man was full of dismal terror for him indeed. At every sound he would start in alarm. CHAPTER IL “ No care of justice, nor no rule of reason, Did thenceforth ever enter in his mind, But cruelty, the sign of currish kind.” ‘ ‘ My heart chills and my veins freeze with despair.” The last sad rites were performed over the body of John Darkwood and his remains were consigned to the family vault. The lawyer was waiting in the drawing-room, for the appearance of Caro before reading the dead man's will. “Ah, here she is,” said Philip Darkwood as the slender dark-robed figure entered. “I believe we are all assembled now,” began the lawyer. “You will please pay attention while I read this document : “ T, John Darkwood, of Darkwood Villa, bequeath all my personal and real estate to my only child, Caro Evelyn Darkwood, on condition that she marry her cousin, Philip Darkwood. If she refuse, then my whole estate goes to the said Philip Darkwood uncon- ditionally, and I bequeath to my daughter the sum of one hundred dollars.' ” As the words of the lawyer reached Caro’s ears, she sprang to her feet in amazement. “What ! My father make such a will as that ? I do not believe it !” 1 8 THE DARKWOOD TRAGEDY ‘‘Yes, Miss Caro, this is your father’s last will and testament.” “I repeat, I do not believe it ! He would not be so unjust as to cut his only child off in that manner. When was that will made ?” “Here, you can see the date,” observed the lawyer passing the will to her. “Why, this is dated two years back, and I know my father made a will about a year ago. Where is that ?” “This is the only will we could find. Miss Dark- wood. If your late father made another will we know nothing of it.” “I will never submit to the terms of that will. I cannot believe that papa ever made such an unjust will as that. Why should he wish me to marry Philip Darkwood, when he knew that I never even liked him. And then if I refused, to leave me a paltry hun- dred dollars, — I, his only child. Oh ! I will never believe it ; never !” she hoarsely cried. “I am sorry. Miss Darkwood, but this will is genuine, for it has your father’s signature in his own handwriting. I hope you will consider the matter and do what will be best for you. I am sure you would not like to leave your old home.” “No, I should not like to leave it, but it seems that I must. For I will never consent to carry out the terms of that will by becoming the wife of Philip Darkwood.” “Caro, you had better think this matter over before you decide hastily in this affair,” said Philip Dark- wood, coming forward and laying his hand on her arm. 'T have thought it over as much as I intend to. I THE DARKWOOD TRAGEDY 19 will never marry you, Philip Darkwood. You con take the money. It is not that which I care so much about, but now I have no means of tracking my father’s murderer. But I will work and I will suc- ceed.” ‘‘Why not give it up, Caro ?” “No, I will never give up. I have made a vow to do it, and do it I will. Phil Darkwood, I believe you persuaded my father to make that will, if he really did make it. But why would papa listen to you.” “Caro you are unjust. I knew nothing of this will, although I have heard your father say he would like us to marry.” “It is not so, Phil Darkwood. I cannot believe papa ever said such a thing. I never did like you, but I tried to be civil. Now I hate you, because I know you had a hand in cheating me out of my inheritance. Take it, and may it do you much good ! I will not sell myself for gold.” “Mr. Tremaine,” turning to the lawyer, you will please let me have the hundred dollars as soon as pos- sible. “You are determined, then ?” asked the lawyer in astonishment. “Yes, I am determined. When may I have it ?” “Now, if you wish it. I have that much in my purse.” “You will please give it to me, then,” she returned excitedly. “Here, I think there are five twenties in this roll. But, my dear Miss Caro, you are not going to leave the villa immediately ?” “I have not made up my mind just when I will go. I suppose,” turning to Philip Darkwood, “you will not desire me to go immediately.” 20 THK DARKWOOD TRAGEDY “Certainly not, Caro, although you have said some unjust words about me. Think over this matter and stay always.’’ “I will not, as I told you before. I would rather starve than be your wife,” she answered haughtily. “Very well, if you prefer poverty to wealth it is your affair,” sneered Philip, an evil look in his eyes. When she was alone in her own room she paced to and fro in despair. “I do not believe it ! I cannot believe it ! That papa would do such a thing ! I know there is a later will than that, because papa told me that he was going to town one day to make his will, and told me to say nothing about it. “What became of it ? Philip Darkwood, you are at the bottom of this,” she cried. “Oh heaven ! Could it be ?” as a wild suspicion ran through her brain. “No, no! I am mad to think of it. Not that I Not that I But as sure as there is a heaven, there is another will, and I mean to find it if it takes a lifetime. I will go away from here to- night. No one shall know where, and some day I will come back and claim my rights.” “When sorrows come, they come not single spies. But in battalions.” Surely her sorrows were coming in battalions. Not only was she robbed of her father, her nearest living relative, but of her birthright as well. She was startled by a knock at her door. Opening it, she saw Celine standing on the threshold. “Miss Caro, I have something to say to you pri- vately.” “Come in, Celine, and tell me what you wish to say,” she replied in a dull tone. THE DARKWOOD TRAGEDY 21 When she had entered and closed the door behind her she turned to her mistress. “Miss Caro, I found this yesterday near the spot where your poor father was murdered, and I thought I would bring it to you.” Caro started as her maid held out to her what ap- peared to be a portion of a sleeve button. Her face became ghastly white, as she thought where she had seen a button like that before. Controlling her agitation as best she could, she remarked to Celine: That was right, Celine. Do not say anything about this to anyone. It may prove a clue in tracing poor papa's murderer. You will not mention this to any one, Celine ?” “No, certainly not. Miss Caro, if you wish me to hold my tongue. Wild horses couldn’t drag it from me if I once made up my mind not to speak of it. I only hope it will prove of use to you.” “It will, Celine, it will !” she returned excitedly. And, Celine, if you come across anything else that would give a clue, keep it and deliver it unto no one’s hand save mine.” “Very well. Miss Caro, I will remember.” “Now, Celine, you may go, as I wish to be alone,” she added hoarsely. When she was again alone, she took the sleeve button to the light and examined it carefully. “I am sure that I have seen that button before, and if my suspicion should be correct — Oh impossible ! It is too horrible to think of ! I will find the mate to this button ! And then — ” The thought of what would happen then seemed to turn her sick with terror. 22 THE DARKWOOD TRAGEDY '‘Dear heaven, if it should be ! The two would connect so well !” she gasped, as her thoughts ran riot in her brain. She threw herself upon her couch, but not to sleep. The sickening fear that had taken possession of her kept her awake all night. Her brain seemed to be on fire. She felt that she must be up and doing, and at the first approach of dawn she donned a plain black dress and hat, and placing a few trinkets in a small satchel, she stole softly down the staircase. Cau- tiously opening the door and closing it behind her, she found herself in the open air. The cool morning atmosphere seemed to relieve her tortured brain in a measure, as she swiftly made her way through the grounds and out onto the road and bent her steps toward the railway station. She had taken enough money out to pay her fare, placing the remainder in her bosom for safety. As she wished no one to know whither she was going, she decided to leave Darkwood Villa before anyone had arisen, thus escaping the questions that would be asked of her. And least of all, did she wish to meet Philip Dark- wood. She felt that the sight of him would turn her sick with horror. Her steps became slower as she neared the station, and had she not made one last effort she would have missed the train. Entering a coach, she sank down into a seat almost exhausted ; the conductor asking for her fare twice before she realized what he was say- ing to her. Paying her fare in an abstracted way, she gave herself up to thoughts of what had befallen her, while the train rushed on, and the people around were unconscious of the wild schemes and feelings that THE DARKWOOD TRAGEDY 23 were passing through the brain of Caro Darkwood. Suddenly there was a terrible jar and crash — screams of men and women, — and Caro Darkwood knew no more. CHAPTER III. *‘Thou earnest unknown and lonely — ^and around Thy coming and thy bearing and thy mood Hung mystery — and in guessing at its clew, Mystery grew interest, and the interest love !” “She is not dead, is she Hal ?” “No, mother, she lives, but that wound on her head looks dangerous. It was lucky that they brought her here where she could get immediate attention.’' “Was any one killed, Hal ?” “Several poor souls — and one woman was crushed beyond recognition. It was a terrible sight to look upon, — that mass of crushed and bleeding humanity. Even I, who am used to such sights, turned sick with horror,” returned Dr. Hal Westlake with a shudder. “And this poor child, was she alone ?” asked his mother. “She must have been, for no one recognized her. Something in her face aroused my pity and I told them to bring her here while I did what I could for the other sufferers.” “I wonder who she can be, Hal?” “That is a mystery, mother, that must remain a mystery until she herself is able to solve it. Poor little girl,” he murmured, as he looked down into her THE DARKWOOD TRAGEDY 25 beautiful white face, that somehow or other interested him strangely. ‘‘We must take the best of care of her, mother,'’ he continued. “She must have had a narrow escape, poor child. Yes, Hal, I will care for her as if she were my own daughter, and with God’s help we will pull her through. Indeed she reminds me of my own little daughter who died years ago, she said, wiping a tear from her eye. “Did you find nothing at all about her person, mother, that would serve to identify her ?” “I found nothing but a roll of notes in her bosom and this trinket, which looks like a sleeve-button. It was wrapped in a piece of paper with the money. I will put them away until she recovers.” “I think her recovery will be slow, but with God’s help I will restore her to health and strength,” he re- sponded as he again gazed on the face that had aroused such a strange interest within him. “And now, mother, I leave her to your care for awhile, while I visit my patients,” he said as he gave one last look at the girl of whom he had assumed the charge. Dr. Hal Westlake, near whose home the accident to the train had occurred, had done all in his power to relieve the sufferers. The accident, which was due to a defective rail, caused several to lose their lives, while others were crippled for the remainder of their existence on earth. When Caro Darkwood felt the jar of the train and heard the shrieks of the people around her, she real- ized that something terrible had happened, and fainted from fright before any harm had befallen her. The cars ahead had rolled down a steep embank- 26 THB DARKWOOD TRAGEDY ment, dragging the car in which she was seated after them. Had she not fainted, she might have escaped injury, but in her unconscious state her head had been struck by some sharp object that had inflicted a wound which caused those who had taken such an in- terest in her to have serious apprehensions. Dr. Hal Westlake scarcely dared ask himself what the feeling was that was stirring in his heart for this unknown girl. His patients noticed his abstracted manner and wondered what had come over Dr. Westlake. He had always been so talkative trying to raise their spirits, saying that ambition was half the battle in ill- ness. He did not remain with them as long as usual, seeming restless and in a hurry to be gone. It seemed to him that he would never get through with his professional calls and be able to return to his patient at home. He longed to look again at her lily- white face, and looked eagerly forward to the time when she would open her eyes to the light of reason, but he feared that she would have an attack of brain fever and would not rise from her couch for many days. When at last he reached home he found that his fears had been verified, for she was rolling and tossing in delirium. For days she remained in a precarious condition, and when Dr. Westlake realized that it might mean death, he knew, as he knew in all the after-days, that he loved her, and would continue to love her. "Let no one say that there is need Of time, for love to grow ; Ah, no ! the love that kills indeed, Dispatches at a blow.^' THK DARKWOOD TRAGEDY 27 He realized that it was love that first prompted him to have this young girl brought to his own home and to care for her as he had done. Whenever he had leisure he would watch beside her couch, relieving his mother and the nurse, who took turns at watching beside the sufferer. The thought that she might die almost drove him wild with grief. At last the critical moment arrived when she would either pass into the other world or change for the better. *‘Hal, you had better lie down and take a little rest, remarked Mrs. Westlake, coming up to where he was sitting watching the face of his darling, for such he called her to himself. “No, mother, there will soon be a change, and I must stay beside her. Leave me alone. I will call you if a change takes place, he answered huskily. “God grant that she may live,” murmured Mrs. Westlake. “Amen,” reverently responded Hal wiping a tear from his eye as his mother left the room. He took his watch from his pocket. A few minutes more and — A gasp from the couch drew his attention instantly. He went up to her, thinking that perhaps that was the last, but a second or so more, and, to his great joy, she dropped off into a quiet slumber. Going to the door he called his mother — “Mother, the crisis is past. She will live !” he cried joyfully. “O, Hal, I am so glad that all our efforts have not been in vain. We shall soon know who she is,” said Mrs. Westlake. “She said such strange things in her delirium that I fear she has had some great trouble in her life. She 28 THE DARKWOOD TRAGEDY would often cry out, 'Oh, papa, I will avenge you !’ And then again she would say, ‘I will go back and find it. I know there is another will.' I suppose they were just the ravings of delirium.” “But, Hal, she would always say the same words. I cannot help but think that there is some mystery connected with her life. ” “If there is, mother, I would be willing to stake my life on her.” “No. She has such an innocent look that I am sure she could have done no wrong to anyone. “Why, my son, I believe she has fascinated you,” remarked Mrs. Westlake. “She has, mother. But not a word to her,” re- turned he, paling. “I am glad my son, for I too have learned to love her as a daughter, and I would be more than glad if she were indeed my daughter.” “Hush, mother ! Remember, she has not as yet seen either of us, and to think of such a thing is absurd,” responded he with a tremor in his voice. “Why absurd ? Are you not worthy the love and esteem of any woman ?” “I know, mother, that you are prejudiced in regard to your only son, but you must remember that every- body does not see me with your eyes. But mind, never a word of this to her !” “You may trust me, my son, to keep my own coun- sel.” A few hours later, Mrs. Westlake was sitting in the sick-room, gazing from the v/indow on the green hills in the distance. Turning her gaze for an instant to- ward the couch, she saw two dark eyes staring at her in amazement. THE DARKWOOD TRAGEDY 29 On perceiving that she was noticed, she smiled, and asked : ‘'Where am I ?” “With friends, my dear. You have been very ill,’' replied Mrs. Westlake, going up and seating herself near her, “But whose house is this ? How came I to be here ?" she queried wonderingly. “Can you not remember what happened to you, my dear child ?” “I forget,” she answered. “But you remember being on the cars and of their being wrecked, do you not ?” questioned Mrs. West- lake in amazement. “Oh ! what is the matter with me ? I cannot re- member. Are you sure I was on a train ?” “Certainly, child. You were injured, and my son. Dr. Westlake, found you and brought you here. We thought at first that you would not recover, but you have done nicely.” “And you have taken care of me all this time ? How long have I been here ?” “Nearly two weeks.” “How good you are, Mrs. Westlake ; I believe that is what you said your name was.” “Yes. And now child, what is your name ?” “My name ? Why my name is — Do you not know who I am ?” she asked in a strange manner. “No, my dear. I found nothing about you that would tell me who you were.” “Oh ! Mrs. Westlake, I cannot remember my own name,” said she bursting into tears. “There, there ! Do not excite yourself. You will remember everything after awhile, dearie,” said Mrs. Westlake, fearing lest any excitement would throw 30 THE DARKWOOD TRAGEDY her into a fever again. Her son had cautioned her not to have her worry on any account. “Go to sleep now, and when you awaken you will feel better. Here, take a little of this,” placing a sleeping potion to her lips, which her son had left in readiness before start- ing out to perform his duties. CHAPTER IV. feel my sinews slacken’d with the fright, And a cold sweat thrills down all o’er my limbs, As if I were dissolving into water.” “Oh ! Mr. Philip, there has been a terrible acci- dent about forty miles up the road, and the station- master said that Miss Caro went on that very train this morning,” gasped Javins, rushing into the break- fast room at Darkwood Villa. “What, has she gone already ?” asked Philip Dark- wood in amazement. “Yes, sir ; but that’s not the worst of it. The sta- tionmaster said that knowing that Miss Caro was aboard that train he sent his son up to the scene of the accident to see if she was injured or not — you know he always thought a lot of her, and he just returned a short time ago and said that no one had seen a person alive answering her description, but that a woman wearing clothes like hers had been crushed beyond re- cognition.” “Saints alive !” exclaimed Philip, “it must have been Caro. Javins, you and Dabney go up there and if it proves to be Miss Caro, bring her here. I am all broken up. I do not feel that I could undertake the journey. Start at once ! Poor girl, poor girl !” When left alone his conscience smote him — 32 THE DARKWOOD TRAGEDY “I have driven her to her doom !” he cried. “But after all, perhaps it is best. She -was deter- mined to track her father’s murderer — ^now she can- not do it. I thought once that I loved her, but pshaw ! I love every good-looking face I see. “At all events, I have Darkwood Villa and ten thousand a year. What more could a oerson want ? No, I will not blame myself at all. Why did she not abide by the terms of the will ? Had she done so, I dare say I would have made her a good enough hus- band, and she would be living to-day. “But pshaw ! she is dead, and that is all there is of it. I will have to give her a decent burial, and, then to enjoy my good fortune ! Ah, Phil my boy, you are a lucky dog to step into so nice a nest, already feath- ered for you. Ah well, I think the game was worth the candle, after all.” Several hours later Javins and Dabney returned. They had identified the body as that of Caro Dark- wood, although the features were unrecognizable. A satchel had been found near the body, and this proved without a doubt that it was the dead girl for whom they were searching. The corpse was conveyed to the Villa, and on the following day was placed in the vault beside John Darkwood’s body. It was the evening of the seventh day after the supposed body of Caro Darkwood had been consigned to its last resting place, when a carriage drove up to Darkwood Villa and a lady attired in a neat-fitting black dress alighted and quickly ascended the veranda steps. Addressing the footman she told him she wished to see Mr. Philip Darkwood. “What name, madam ?” he asked. THE DARKWOOD TRAGEDY 3 ^ “No name. But state that my business is urgent/’ she replied. When informed that there was a lady in the draw- ing-room who wished to see him on urgent business, he exclaimed : “Who in the mischief can it be ? A lady to see me ? Well, I suppose the way to find out is to go down and see. Somebody begging for some charitable affair, I dare say. To the dickens with them ! I will give them to understand that I am not John Darkwood, giving to every beggar that comes along.” Going lazily down the stairs, he opened the draw- ing-room door and entered. One glance in the direction of the form standing near the window and — “Cora Demar ! My heaven ! Alive and here !” he gasped, falling back in terror. “Why, to be sure I am alive. You did not think I was a ghost, did you ? Ghosts do not generally travel around in carriages, do they ?” she asked as she laughed derisively. “I thought you were dead !” he gasped. “Of course you did, monsieur. I am well aware of that fact. It was perfectly natural that you should think so, when yours was the hand — ” “Hush, for God’s sake ! Do not talk so loud. You will be overheard, he cried huskily. “Why should I care if I am overheard. I did not attempt to commit mur — ” “Hush, I tell you !” again interrupting her. What do I care what you tell me. Really, you make me laugh. I thought you knew enough of me in the old days to know that I care little what you say.” 34 THE DARKWOOD TRAGEDY “I know, I know. But talk lower, for God’s sake, or you will ruin me. The servants have ears like cats,” he answered excitedly. “O, well, monsieur, I will talk a little lower if you make it worth my while, as long as you are so fright- ened,” she returned sarcastically. “Frightened ! You are a fool, woman ; I am not frightened at you !” “Ah, you are not ? Judging by your looks, you were a few moments ago. But leave all that, I came here to talk business.” “Talk away, very quickly, then. You are wasting my time.” “Ah, indeed ! I dare say I will waste more of it before we say good-bye again. So you are master here now are you ?” she questioned. «T ...... » 1 am. “Have you been up to some of your old tricks ? I would be willing to stake my life that you have.” “What are you talking about, woman ?” “You know as well as I, monsier. I heard that you had come into this inheritance rather suddenly, and drew my own conclusions, and they are seldom wrong. As I was rather in need, I thought I would help you enjoy your newly gotten wealth,” she said complacently, taking off her hat and gloves with an air of one who had come to stay. What are you going to do ? I will not have you here ! he stormed. “Yes you will, too. You dare not refuse to give me a home here. If you do I shall have you in jail within twenty-four hours.” What could you prove ?” he asked hoarsely. Everything. I could also have you arrested on sus- picion,” she answered blandly. THK DARKWOOD TRAGEDY 35 “Suspicion ! Suspicion of what ?” “Of what ? Why of the murder of the late John Darkwood, to be sure/’ “You had better be careful how you speak,” he said, advancing toward her menacingly. “O, I am not afraid of you,” she replied. “Never- theless, Philip Darkwood, you had better keep your distance. I am not unarmed, you see,” oisplaying a small revolver. “What are you doing with that ?” “I merely keep it about me in case of an emergency. I have lived and learned that when one has to deal with murderers and such people, it is wise to be pre- pared.” “Quit that ! I think we can come to terms.” “Ah, you are coming around, are you ? You dis- play more wisdom than I gave you credit for. Per- haps experience has taught you that, too,” “Well what is it you want ?” he asked. “I want a home here, and what money I may need. You may introduce me as your housekeeper or your relative. I must have my own private apartments and I shall have nothing whatever to do with you.” “I suppose you must have all that you demand, but do not cut up any of your rustics or it will not be good for you,” he returned angrily. “Ha, ha ! You amuse me greatly. Cut up my rus- tics ! Pray what may they be ?” This will do ! I have had enough of your society for one day. If you are determined to stay, please make yourself invisible.” “Very well, monsieur, the feeling is mutual, I assure you.” 36 THE DARKWOOD TRAGEDY She went up the staircase, laughing just loud enough for him to hear, and made her way to the suite she was to occupy. CHAPTER V. “And if we do but watch the hour, There never yet was human power Which could evade, if unforgiven, The patient search and vigil long Of him who treasures up a wrong/' When the door closed behind Cora Demar the smile faded from her face and was replaced by a look of intense hatred, as she took a survey of her sur- roundings. “So he is master here," she murmured, gazing from the window on the surrounding landscape, which would have made a good subject for an artist's brush. “A fine place this is, and I am lucky to have stepped in so nicely, but how I hate him!" she exclaimed, as her thoughts reverted to an incident two years pre- vious. It was in a little village on the coast of France that she had first met Philip Darkwood, or Gerald Seville, as he then called himself. It was there that she met and loved him. 