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4“
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS
One of the Greatest Mystery Stories Ever Written
By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN.
(Copyright, 1913, by Anna Katharine
Green.)
'TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
“And may I inquire who this person
is?” returned Mr. Gryce.
“A physician and a friend of mine;
Dr Walter Cameron, of No. Fifth
avenue. ’
No name could have awakened a
greater surprise in Mr. Gryce’s mind.
'Vhy, he could hardly have said. The
two doctors were practitioners in the
same school, and Dr. Cameron had
owned to an acquaintance with Moles-
worth. Yet he was the last person Mr.
Gryce had expected to hear mentioned
in this connection, and it seemed in
some way to lend quite a new aspect to
the affair.
“But Dr. Cameron is out of town. He
has gone with his bride to Washington,
and I do not think he has yet re
turned.”
A shadow passed over the other’s
stern face.
“I must see him, nevertheless,” he
insisted. “You have not yet shown me
your warrant. Consider me as a man
under your surveillance merely and go
with me to Washington. You will not
regret it.” Then seeming to recognize
the unreasonableness of what he asked,
he added: "You are following the com
mands of a superior. Let me see him.”
“You shall; but do you object to tell
ing me what you want of Dr. Camer
on?”
Julius Molesworth’s face lighted up, a
gleam flashed from that strange eye of
his and he looked almost handsome.
“I could not make you understand, but
—did you ever have any great ambi
tion?” he suddenly asked, with rather a
doubtful look at the elderly and some
what benevolent countenance before
him.
Mr. Gryce smiled.
“You may talk to me as if I had had,”
he rejoined.
His Secret.
“Listen, then. I am on the verge of
attaining mine. I have a case, pecul
iar, striking in its complications, known
to all the profession. It has hitherto
baffled the skill of every man who has
attempted to handle it. Even Dr. - s
interest was aroused, and he gave his
best attention, but to no avail, and now
I, i know that I have found the
requisite remedy, discovered the nec
essary course of treatment. You will
find it all on that paper. And with
this prospect before me, this certainty, I
may say, you ask me what I want of
Dr. Cameron, the ablest man I know
among the rising practitioners of the
day.”
“I think I understand,” said Mr.
Gryce, "but put it into words. I want
to know just what ground I am stand-
ing on.”
“Well, then, tf I must lose my liber
ty, this poor woman must not lose her
life nor science the prospect of a valua
ble discovery. Though I should have
preferred to make my own experiments,
I shall be at comparative ease if I can
get some one upon whose judgment I
can thoroughly rely to make them for
me. But where is-the man I can trust?
I can think of but one, Dr. Cameron.
Tie has the ambition and he has the
great qualities of mind necessary to
carry out the test 1 propose in the face
of all the opposition he will receive.
To him, then, I wish to consign this
case immediately. Have I made my
self clear to you and is there any hope
of my wishes being complied with?"
A carriage was at the door and they
rode to police headquarters. What
passed there it is not necessary to re
late. ‘Enough that in half an hour
they emerged, and, getting again into
the carriage, told the driver to take
them to Jersey City.
The journey to Washington was de
cided upon.
As Mr. Gryce was buying the tickets.
Dr. Molesworth whispered in his ear:
“One other thing is requisite'. We
must surprise the doctor in his room. I
am no favorite of his, and I doubt if he
would listen to me if he had oppor
tunity to escape my arguments. Prom
ise me you will take him unawares—
as you did me.”
The detective pocketed his change and
turned. The prospect of traveling was
evidently agreeable to him. He looked
quite young.
“We will surprise him,” he replied “I
have no wish to do anything else.
Did he anticipate making any discov
eries in Washington?
At. the Hotel in Washington.
T HERE are dark pictures and there
are bright ones. From the doc
tor’s dull qffiee let us pass to a
sunny room In Washington, where. In
the light cf a declining sun. Dr. Camer
on sits gazing with tender eyes upon
his bride as she toys with a card of in
vitation which has just been handed in.
“You will have to answer it.” she
averred, closing the fingers of her right
hand with a look of pain; "my rheuma
tism Is no better."
“And what shall that answer be?” he
inquired. “Yes or no.”
For a moment she looked thoughtful;
then she smiled.
“You enjoy these gayetles,” she re
marked; “let us make the most of
them.”
“And do not you enjoy them, too?”
She sighed, drew herself up proudly
and replied:
••I enjoy being with you anywhere,
even in crowds.”
He knew she did; he knew that, con
trary to all his expectations, he had a
loving wife, and his heart warmed
within him.
“Genevieve,” he remarked, “you are
coming out from under the shadow.
You look almost brilliant to-day.”
“Do I?” her look seemed to say. And
moved by that look as he never ex
pected to be by that of any woman, he
arose and drew her down by his side,
where he could contemplate her beauty
to his heart’s content.
For Genevieve Cameron was beauti
ful. far beyond what Genevieve Oretorex
had ever promised to be. Even a
stranger must acknowledge this fact,
and how much more the husband, to
whose love and devotion this pleasing
<tt Fashions of the Moment H
change was undoubtedly due. Not
only was her glance brighter and her
smile more winning, but a physical
change had taken place in her which
altered her whole expression. He was
thinking of this change now as he
watched her color come and go under
his gaze. He was thinking of it and
wondering at its cause as he had often
done since it was first revealed to him
on the morning following his marriage.
Though he showed no evidence of ab
straction, but continued his conversa
tion with unabated animation, he was in
i reality living over the astonishment and
perplexity of that extraordinary mo
ment.
Let me state what he recalled. The
day was the one after his marriage and
the time noon. He had just come in
from a short walk. He had left his
bride asleep on the lounge, worn out
with the fatigues of their night Jour
ney and some trouble which he had not
been able to fathom. He thought her
still resting, so dark was the room and
so void of any sound of welcome. But
Just as he was about to approach on
tiptoe to the lounge where he had left
her, he heard a low and smothered ex
clamation at his side, and turning saw
the figure of his wife bending toward
the mirror that hung between the win
dows. She was looking at herself, and
the weird reflection of her counte
nance stared wildly out upon him as
her voice rose almost to a shriek, cry
ing:
An Amazing Change.
“Light! Give me more light!”
Astonished, and yet more troubled, for
he had not forgotten the fainting fit
with which she had sealed the varied
experiences of the night before, he
rushed to the windows and hastily
raised the shades. A low cry from his
wife drew him back to her side.
“Look at me!" she exclaimed, with
her two hands elapsed over her face
and her fingers buried deep in her hair.
“What Is it?” he asked, and then
gave utterance to an exclamation him
self, for the head thus bowed in seem
ing shame before him was white as
snow, white as a woman of ninety,
whereas on yesterday it had been a
glorious brown.
The exclamation made her drop her
hands, and for a moment they stood
looking wildly upon each other; then
he said:
“Genevieve, you have had a terrible
sorrow or some terrible pain to produce
^uch an effect as this. Which of the
two is it, my poor darling? Speak, for
I long to comfort you, whether It is
grief or some fearful, unknown com
plaint.”
Her answer had been a moan of joy,
followed by a sudden burst of tears.
“Good God!” she murmured, below her
breath, “how shall I account for these?”
The sweetness in her face had made
him her ardent lover. Stooping, he took i
up a tress of this lightly flowing hair j
and softly kissed it. “You will not need
account for them.” said he. “their beau- ;
tv is their best excuse;” and lifting her i
to her feet he led her before the mirror j
and bade her look.
She did so, and thus started at the 1
transformation she beheld. From being
a woman of simply fine appearance and
noble air, she had leaped, as it were
into magnificent beauty: the fair skin,
the dark eyes, the white hair forming |
a combination that could never be 1
passed again in street or parlor without j
leaving an Impression behind of mar
velous loveliness. She saw it and be
saw it, and while neither spoke there j
was a subtle interchange of thought |
between them which called out a wary
dimple in her cheek which to his eyes ■
finished the picture. He smiled over
her shoulder and in one breath both :
said:
“My own mother would not know
me.”
“I must show you to my friends.
When shall we go back to New York?”
A shallow fell upon the brightness of
her face. “O, must we go hack?” she
cried. "I wish we could live here al
ways.” Then, observing his astonish
ment, she added, “I hate New York; I
should be glad If we never had to see
it again. There, I shall have only a
part of you, here I have the whole.”
What could any man but two weeks
married say in answer. He stooped
over and gave # her a kiss, and then with
that strange sensation %ve sometimes
have of an intruding presence, he lift
ed his head and was startled to perceive
a dark figure gazing on him from the
doorway, whose countenance he did not
at once recognize, so great was his an
ger and chagrin.
“Who are you?” he cried, leaping to
his feet. 4 T thought our door was
shut—” But here the figure, stepping
forward, he beheld a face he knew, but
little expected to see in this spot, and
greatly astonished, he paused and wait
ed, while the other, advancing still fur
ther, said:
“Your pardon. We understood from
the hall boy that this was a public re
ception room.” And with this Dr. Cam
eron became aware that a second in
truder had entered and was standing
behind the first comer. The face was
unknown to him, nor did he look at It
twice, his attention being directed to
ward Dr. Molesworth, who was saying:
“I have some business with you, Dr.
Cameron. May I venture to tell you
what It is?”
“Business with me?”
“Yes, sir.”
The answer was brief and slightly ab
stracted, for his gaze had fallen on Mrs.
Cameron and he evidently felt that
surprise and involuntary admiration
which every stranger now experienced
in seeing her for the first time.
“My wife!” was Dr. Cameron’s cold
Introduction.
Both gentlemen bowed and Genevieve
arose. A flush of indignation was on
her brow, and she looked almost threat
ening. But she contented herself with
a short bow, so icy and repellent that
Dr. Molesworth dropped his eyes, and
from that moment forward ignored her
very presence.
“I will not detain you long.” were the
words with which Dfr. Molesworth in
troduced his subject. “That my busi
ness is important I leave to you to in
fer from the fact that I have journeyed
all the way from New York to see you.’’
To Be Continued To-morrow.
No. 1.
Charming fall model in taupe cackemir
de soie. The double band drapery on the
skirt finishes in a heavy frill above the
waist front and back, and the wide arm-
holes are the distinctive features.
One Woman’s Story .
By VIRGINIA TERHUNE VAN DE WATER
CHAPTER XX.
M ARY DANFORTH thrust the
letter she had just received
Into her bag and climbed the
stairs to her apartment. She clung
to the banisters, for she felt weak
and giddy. Softly she let herself into
her own front door, but not so softly
that her mother did not hear her and
come out into the hall to greet her.
The daughter forestalled any question
by saying, as soon as she had kissed
the elderly woman:
“Mother, dear, I am tired. If I do
not stop to talk with you now’ I will
have a quarter of- an hour in which
to rest before supper. So I will go
right to my room and lie down. I
will see you later, dear.”
Without waiting for a reply, the
girl hurried on to her own room.
Here she locked her door noiselessly
that her mother might not hear the
click of the bolt and suspect that
something was wrong. She wanted
to be alone to read her letter slow
ly and carefully. She had read It
rapidly downstairs, after taking it
from the vestibule letter box.
Gordon Craig wished to Inform her
of his engagement to a girl in San
Antonio, a girl he had met six months
ago. He bad not forgotten the prem
ise he and Mary had given each oth
er that “if they continued to care for
each other” until he had “made good”
they would become formally en
gaged. But neither had he forgot
ten that other promise that they were
not to consider themselves bound if
any other love came Into the life of
either. The “understanding”—that is
what he called it—had been, after
all, but “a boy and girl affair,” yet
they had been such good friends that
he wanted her to know of his new
found happiness. If he thought for a
moment that she would be hurt by
his action In this matter, he would be
very sorry, but he was sure that she,
like himself, had outgrown what was.
after all, but a passing fancy. She
must have noticed the change in his
letters and that, for months, they had
been those of a friend; that he had
taken it for granted that now that
each had seen more of life, and had
been absent from the other long
enough to shake off a youthful infat
uation, friendship, and friendship
only, existed on either side.
The change in his letters! Mary
almost laughed aloud at the Irony of
the situation as she remembered the
construction she had put upon his
silence. She had been so sure of him,
so certain that he was silent on the
topic of their love only because he
was planning to surprise her with
the news that he would soon be able
to claim her fc
Bhe despised herself when she re
membered her thoughts, her mus
ing*—how she had whispered to her
self each night, “He will write the
the truth to me soon,” how her heart
had beaten high at the hope, and
how, only this afternoon, she had
said to herself that her practice as
stenographer and typewriter might
make her of assistance to him after
they were married.
She had even thought that if she
could help him In this way It might
spare him the expense of a private,'
stenographer later on, when his busi
ness had grown large, and that would
help pay for her mother’s board and
lodging In their home. Not that Gor-
don would think of that, she had
mused; he was so good, so generous!
Oh, what a blind fool she had been!
What a blind fool!”
Sinking into a chair she buried
her face in her hands. The window
:n her tiny room was open, and the
people in the apartment across tho
narrow court were talking. What
harsh voices some women had!
Then she remembered what dis
agreeable intonations Elizabeth Pres- ,
ton had and how patronizing she
had been. What was it that she.
Mary Danforth, had admitted to
Elizabeth only a few minutes ago?
Oh. yes, that she was going to give
up her work, that she was, perhaps,
going to he married! She started
to her feet and wrung her hands.
Wounded love, aching heart, shat
tered hopes, all were overwhelmed
in this supreme moment by tortured
pride.
Her mother knocked at the locked
door, tried the knob. said. “Oil.
please excuse me!” and went back
down the hall to the kitchen. Mary
knew- from the tones of the elderly
woman's voice that she was hurt or
offended at finding her daughter's
door closed against her. This
knowledge added a sense of annoy
ance and almost of guilt to the
wretched girl’s misery. From her
childhood It had worried her to know
that she had displeased her mother.
The elderly woman must be pacified.
The daughter must summon all her
strength to face the catastrophe that
had befallen her, and yet to spare
the parent whom she loved.
Mary Danforth thrust Traig’r let
ter Into her desk, and, as she did so,
her eyes fell upon a postscript on
the back of the sheet. The words
stood out clear, yet the fingers that
j penned them must have been a bit
unsteady, for the chlrography wav
ered somewhat. Perhaps the writer’s
heart had failed him for a moment.
The girl read: “Send me a line,
plea sip, when you can. I want to be
assured that you understand the sit
uation. I would not hurt you for
worlds.”
Mary uttered an exclamation, half
sob, half laugh. Her hand shook
with anger as she held the letter to
the ga.M flame and watched it burn,
putting her foot upon the charred
fragmen's as they fell to the floor.
“I will w’rlte to him!” she mut
tered. “But not until I have some
news of my own to tell him.”
She remembered that she had not
I taken off her hat, and started to
draw out her hatpins, then paused,
a sudden look of almost savage tri
umph flashed across her face. She
unlocked her door and hurried down
the hall into the kitchen where her
mother stood awaiting her.
Two modern Evening Gowns—The one of heavy
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The white gown has a bolero of net done in an
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in a long angel sleeve design at the back and is
weighted down by a huge tassel of the iridescent
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AT THE MERCY OF THE INQUISITION
I T was growing dtisk when the high
priest of the inquisition, followed j
by a couple of henchmen, de- |
sc.ended the stone stairs leading to the
subterranean prison cells.
The door of one of the cells was
opened and the priest entered into the
presence of a man in rags, lying bloody
and almost unconscious on a dirty and
damp bed of straw. f
The prisoner was a Jew-, who, although
he had been tortured for a w’hole year,
still refused to give up the faith of his
fathers and allow himself to be chris
tened.
“Rejoice, my son,” said the priest.
“You are to be thrown into the fire,
that God alone may judge your soul.
Perhaps He will be merciful to you. To
morrow your body will be placed on a
grill and roasted over a slow fire. It
will only be two or three hours before
your soul leaves for the next world.
Then your suffering will end.”
With these words the priest kissed
the bloody, obstinate Jew, whereupon a
henchman relieved him of his chains.
Then they left him and the Jew gazed
at the closed door.
But was it really closed?
He suddenly thought he saw light
through the crack and dragged himself
painfully across the floor to see if this
was really so.
Yes, the door gave way, when ho
pressed against It. It was open. The
henchman must have forgotten to
lock it.
The Jew peered out, and saw a long
row of candles illuminating the hall
But in the distance everything was dark
and silent.
Crawling on his hands and knees he
felt his way along the wall. Not a
sound passed his lips, for at the end
of the hall he could just make out a
dim light, undoubtedly an opening
which meant freedom.
Suddenly his heart almost stopped
beating. He heard steps approaching
and pressed himself against the wall
while a jailer went by carrying instru
ments of torture.
He recovered from his fright. For a
moment he thought of returning to his
cell, but the hope of freedom gave him
fresh pourage Exhausted, he crawled
slowly toward the place where he
thought the opening must be. The cor
ridor seemed endless.
Once more he heard steps, slow and
firm. It was two inquisitors passing
by and talking together.
His heart beat wildly and he shut his
eyes. He lay flat on the floor, implor
ing Abraham's, Isaac’s and Jacob's
God to save him.
The men stopped at the very place
where he was lying One of them was
gesticulating excitedly, while the other
stood staring at the ground.
Was the torture to begin over again?
The Jew thought he felt once more
the red hot tongs tearing his flesh. Now
the inquisitor was looking at him, but he
seemed so taken up with listening to his
colleague’s words that he did not no
tice the trembling prisoner.
Slowly the two men went on. They
had not seen him.
Forward once more! He must hur
ry toward the goal which meant free
dom to him. On his hands and knees
he dragged himself along through the
endless corridor.
He felt cold air upon his face. There
was a small door. He pressed his shoul
der against it and it opened.
"Praise be the Lord!” he sighed, when
he saw the starlit sky above his head
He was saved.
Through the orange grove he would
be able to reach the mountains before
dawn.
Sudd*enly he felt himself seized by two
strong arms, and, horrified, he looked
into the face of the priest. His heart
stopped and a bloody foam covered his
Ups as he realized that what he had
passed through during the last hours
was a new devilish torture invented by
the inquisition, the torture of hope.
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