The Doctor, his Wife, and the Clock Read online

direct a gazeas my position allowed. For her aspect bespoke a degree of emotion thatastonished me; and even before I spoke I perceived her to be trembling,though she was a woman of no little natural dignity and self-possession.

  "I seem to know your face," she said, advancing courteously towards me,"but your name"--and here she glanced at the card she held in herhand--"is totally unfamiliar to me."

  "I think you saw me some eighteen months ago," said I. "I am thedetective who gave testimony at the inquest which was held over theremains of Mr. Hasbrouck."

  I had not meant to startle her, but at this introduction of myself I sawher naturally pale cheek turn paler, and her fine eyes, which had beenfixed curiously upon me, gradually sink to the floor.

  "Great heaven!" thought I, "what is this I have stumbled upon!"

  "I do not understand what business you can have with me," she presentlyremarked, with a show of gentle indifference that did not in the leastdeceive me.

  "I do not wonder," I rejoined. "The crime which took place next door isalmost forgotten by the community, and even if it were not, I am sureyou would find it difficult to conjecture the nature of the question Ihave to put to you."

  "I am surprised," she began, rising in her involuntary emotion andthereby compelling me to rise also. "How can you have any question toask me on this subject? Yet if you have," she continued, with a rapidchange of manner that touched my heart in spite of myself, "I shall, ofcourse, do my best to answer you."

  There are women whose sweetest tones and most charming smiles only serveto awaken distrust in men of my calling; but Mrs. Zabriskie was not ofthis number. Her face was beautiful, but it was also candid in itsexpression, and beneath the agitation which palpably disturbed her, Iwas sure there lurked nothing either wicked or false. Yet I held fast bythe clue which I had grasped, as it were, in the dark, and withoutknowing whither I was tending, much less whither I was leading her, Iproceeded to say:

  "The question which I presume to put to you as the next-door neighbor ofMr. Hasbrouck, is this: Who was the woman who screamed out so loudlythat the whole neighborhood heard her on the night of that gentleman'sassassination?"

  The gasp she gave answered my question in a way she little realized,and, struck as I was by the impalpable links that had led me to thethreshold of this hitherto unsolvable mystery, I was about to press myadvantage and ask another question, when she quickly started forward andlaid her hand on my lips.

  Astonished, I looked at her inquiringly, but her head was turned aside,and her eyes, fixed upon the door, showed the greatest anxiety.Instantly I realized what she feared. Her husband was entering thehouse, and she dreaded lest his ears should catch a word of ourconversation.

  Not knowing what was in her mind, and unable to realize the importanceof the moment to her, I yet listened to the advance of her blindhusband with an almost painful interest. Would he enter the room wherewe were, or would he pass immediately to his office in the rear? Sheseemed to wonder too, and almost held her breath as he neared the door,paused, and stood in the open doorway, with his ear turned towards us.

  As for myself, I remained perfectly still, gazing at his face in mingledsurprise and apprehension. For besides its beauty, which was of a markedorder, as I have already observed, it had a touching expression whichirresistibly aroused both pity and interest in the spectator. This mayhave been the result of his affliction, or it may have sprung from somedeeper cause; but, whatever its source, this look in his face produced astrong impression upon me and interested me at once in his personality.Would he enter? Or would he pass on? Her look of silent appeal showed mein which direction her wishes lay, but while I answered her glance bycomplete silence, I was conscious in some indistinct way that thebusiness I had undertaken would be better furthered by his entrance.

  The blind have been often said to possess a sixth sense in place of theone they have lost. Though I am sure we made no noise, I soon perceivedthat he was aware of our presence. Stepping hastily forward he said, inthe high and vibrating tone of restrained passion:

  "Helen, are you here?"

  For a moment I thought she did not mean to answer, but knowingdoubtless from experience the impossibility of deceiving him, sheanswered with a cheerful assent, dropping her hand as she did so frombefore my lips.

  He heard the slight rustle which accompanied the movement, and a look Ifound it hard to comprehend flashed over his features, altering hisexpression so completely that he seemed another man.

  "You have some one with you," he declared, advancing another step butwith none of the uncertainty which usually accompanies the movements ofthe blind. "Some dear friend," he went on, with an almost sarcasticemphasis and a forced smile that had little of gaiety in it.

  The agitated and distressed blush which answered him could have but oneinterpretation. He suspected that her hand had been clasped in mine, andshe perceived his thought and knew that I perceived it also.

  Drawing herself up, she moved towards him, saying in a sweet womanlytone that to me spoke volumes:

  "It is no friend, Constant, not even an acquaintance. The person whom Inow present to you is an agent from the police. He is here upon atrivial errand which will be soon finished, when I will join you in youroffice."

  I knew she was but taking a choice between two evils. That she wouldhave saved her husband the knowledge of a detective's presence in thehouse, if her self-respect would have allowed it, but neither she nor Ianticipated the effect which this presentation produced upon him.

  "A police officer," he repeated, staring with his sightless eyes, as if,in his eagerness to see, he half hoped his lost sense would return. "Hecan have no trivial errand here; he has been sent by God Himself to----"

  "Let me speak for you," hastily interposed his wife, springing to hisside and clasping his arm with a fervor that was equally expressive ofappeal and command. Then turning to me, she explained: "Since Mr.Hasbrouck's unaccountable death, my husband has been laboring under anhallucination which I have only to mention for you to recognize itsperfect absurdity. He thinks--oh! do not look like that, Constant; youknow it is an hallucination which must vanish the moment we drag itinto broad daylight--that he--_he_, the best man in all the world, washimself the assailant of Mr. Hasbrouck."

  Good God!

  "I say nothing of the impossibility of this being so," she went on in afever of expostulation. "He is blind, and could not have delivered sucha shot even if he had desired to; besides, he had no weapon. But theinconsistency of the thing speaks for itself, and should assure him thathis mind is unbalanced and that he is merely suffering from a shock thatwas greater than we realized. He is a physician and has had many suchinstances in his own practice. Why, he was very much attached to Mr.Hasbrouck! They were the best of friends, and though he insists that hekilled him, he cannot give any reason for the deed."

  At these words the Doctor's face grew stern, and he spoke like anautomaton repeating some fearful lesson.

  "I killed him. I went to his room and deliberately shot him. I hadnothing against him, and my remorse is extreme. Arrest me, and let mepay the penalty of my crime. It is the only way in which I can obtainpeace."

  Shocked beyond all power of self-control by this repetition of what sheevidently considered the unhappy ravings of a madman, she let go his armand turned upon me in frenzy.

  "Convince him!" she cried. "Convince him by your questions that he nevercould have done this fearful thing."

  I was laboring under great excitement myself, for I felt my youthagainst me in a matter of such tragic consequence. Besides, I agreedwith her that he was in a distempered state of mind, and I hardly knewhow to deal with one so fixed in his hallucination and with so muchintelligence to support it. But the emergency was great, for he washolding out his wrists in the evident expectation of my taking him intoinstant custody; and the sight was killing his wife, who had sunk on thefloor between us, in terror and anguish.

  "You say you killed Mr. Hasbrouck," I began. "Where did you get yourpistol, and wh
at did you do with it after you left his house?"

  "My husband had no pistol; never had any pistol," put in Mrs.Zabriskie, with vehement assertion. "If I had seen him with such aweapon----"

  "I threw it away. When I left the house, I cast it as far from me aspossible, for I was frightened at what I had done, horribly frightened."

  "No pistol was ever found," I answered, with a smile, forgetting for themoment that he could not see. "If such an instrument had been found inthe street after a murder of such consequence it certainly would havebeen brought to the police."

  "You forget that a good pistol is valuable property," he went onstolidly. "Some one came along before the general alarm was given; andseeing such a treasure lying on the sidewalk, picked it up and