John Marsh's Millions Part 19

It's for Annie. If you only knew what a good child she is, sir----"

She stopped short, choked by another fit of violent coughing.

"Don't worry," said Paula, soothingly and trying to keep back her own tears. "We'll take good care of Annie."

The sick woman raised herself with difficulty on one arm.

"The child's gone a long time," she said uneasily. "I'm always anxious when she's away."

The words were hardly out of her mouth when through the crack in the window came the sound of unusual commotion in the street below. There was the noise of an automobile stopping with a jerk, warning shouts, and then the shrieks and sobbing of women. Tod rushed to the window.

"It's an accident!" he said. "Some one has been run over."

Paula, her heart in her mouth, seized by an indefinable dread, leaned out of the window. All they could see was a surging crowd gathered round a big, red automobile. A burly policeman, and a tall, thin man in a linen duster were stooping over a prostrate form. Suddenly a wild cry from the bed behind them froze the blood in their veins. They looked back. Mrs. Hughes, livid, had raised herself to a sitting posture and was trying to get out of bed to come and see for herself. The mother's unerring instinct had told her what had happened--yet she dare not give expression to her dread. Her hollow eyes dilated wide with terror, she cried:

"Annie only went to the Dispensary. She ought to be back by now. Where can she be?"

Outside, the noise and excitement had been succeeded by an unnatural calm. Suddenly Tod, who was still hanging half out of the window, turned round, and before Paula could silence him, called out:

"They're coming into this house."

A cry from the mother answered him. She did not know why she called out.

Surely it was no misfortune of hers--this accident. She only knew that her child was out, and should have returned long ago.

Paula rushed to the top of the landing and looked down. Below, she saw a procession of people slowly ascending the stairs. First came the stalwart policeman bearing something white in his arms, then came the tall, thin man in the linen duster, followed by a number of women weeping and wailing. Paula felt herself grow pale. A vague intuition told her that a terrible tragedy had occurred. Her heart seemed to stop beating. Up and up, closer and closer, came the policeman with his burden.

"What is it?" cried Paula, scarcely able to control herself.

"A child run over, m'm," answered the officer stolidly. Tears were in his eyes as he added: "It's little Annie Hughes. I'm afraid it's all over."

The child's form was limp, the eyes were closed, her little dress was saturated with blood.

"Oh, G.o.d!"

With an involuntary shriek of horror, Paula staggered back into the attic. Her first thought was of the poor mother, to save her the shock of seeing the body of her mangled child, but as she crossed the threshold, she suddenly felt sick and dizzy. The room seemed to swim round. She called loudly:

"Mr. Chase! Come quick!"

Then she fainted, just as Tod reached her.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE AGONIZED SCREAM OF A MOTHER ROBBED OF HER YOUNG.]

But poor Mrs. Hughes had heard the shriek and she answered it with one even more terrible--the agonized scream of a mother robbed of her young.

Suddenly possessed of almost superhuman strength, she left the bed and staggered to the door while Tod, panicstricken, was das.h.i.+ng cold water into Paula's face, trying to revive her.

The policeman entered with his pathetic burden and laid the child gently on the bed.

"We've rung for an ambulance," he explained, "but----"

A fierce, hysterical outburst interrupted him. The wretched mother s.n.a.t.c.hed her child from his grasp and, fondling it to her almost naked breast, tried with wild, staring eyes and trembling hands to find its injuries. Not understanding, unable to help, crushed under the awful weight of this supreme blow which had stricken her, she frantically kissed the child's white face and called upon her by name.

The tall, thin man in the linen duster advanced, felt the child's pulse, and then tried to lead the mother away.

"Madam," he said, "I'm a doctor. There's nothing to be done. It's all over. I can't tell you how I deplore this accident. If money can help matters, I am willing to pay. The little girl ran right into my automobile as I was turning the corner." Turning to the policeman, he added: "It was an accident, officer, wasn't it? Thank G.o.d, you were a witness to that. Everybody saw how it happened."

The policeman glared angrily at him. Almost savagely he replied:

"You may thank your stars it was, or you'd never have got out of this neighborhood alive. They'd have strung you up to a lamppost sure as fate, and served you right. I guess it was an accident, all right, and you're not to blame, but I'll have to arrest you, anyway, on a technical charge of homicide."

The distracted mother, staring at the two men, had listened stupidly.

Suddenly she understood, and, pointing a scrawny finger at him, cried hysterically:

"Ah--you are the murderer! You killed my child! He killed my child! Oh, justice in Heaven!"

The effort was more than her weakened condition could stand. Sobbing violently, she fell prostrate over the body of her little daughter.

The stranger turned to Tod, who was still engaged in reviving Paula. It seemed to Tod that he had seen the pale, sardonic face, those piercing eyes and jet black hair before. He could not tell just where.

"You seem the only reasonable one here," said the stranger. "The woman's hysteria is only natural. I am entirely blameless in the matter. Of course, it is very sad, but these children of the tenements will run under the wheels of carriages. It is a wonder more are not killed."

Looking at Paula, who was slowly coming to, he inquired: "Fainted, eh?

One of the family?"

Tod did not like the man's cold, indifferent, almost brutal manner. It was with an effort that he replied civilly:

"No--this lady was merely paying a visit here. The child was one of her pupils. She is Miss Paula Marsh, teacher of the Rivington Street Settlement."

The stranger started and looked at Paula more closely.

"The niece of Mr. James Marsh?" he cried, in surprise.

Tod nodded.

"Yes."

"How strange!" muttered the stranger. Drawing a card from his pocket, he said: "I am Dr. Zacharie!"

Now Tod remembered where he had seen this man. It was through the keyhole of the library the night of that secret midnight meeting.

Paula opened her eyes. At first she saw only Tod. Then her gaze, wandering round the room suddenly rested on Dr. Zacharie, who stood staring with his black, piercing eyes and sardonic smile, silently studying her. For a moment she stared back at him, without making a movement or a sound. A look of repulsion and fright came into her face.

Suddenly she uttered a shriek:

"The man of my dreams!" she cried.

Then she fainted again.

Dr. Zacharie put his finger on her pulse and turned to Tod. It seemed to the latter that a smile of satisfaction hovered about his mouth.

"She's a highly nervous girl," he said, "and subject to strange hallucinations. I am a nerve specialist. Cases like this interest me.

Her condition is well known to her uncle. He asked me to call and see her. It is a curious coincidence that I should meet her under these tragic circ.u.mstances. You had better get her home at once. My automobile is at your disposal."