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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 brocaded black satin has a fish-tail train, and the skirt is caught in a high-slit surplice to girdle that forms the foundation of the waist that finishes in shoulder pieces of black chantily. Silver edges the scarf of black chiffon and brightens the gown. 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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. 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