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Mansion of Mystery

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<h2 id="id01141" style="margin-top: 4em">CHAPTER XIV</h2> <h5 id="id01142">IS THIS MADNESS?</h5> Instantly there was wild confusion, and half a dozen persons sprang forward to assist Raymond with his burden. But he waved them back. "Let her have air," he said. "Don't crowd so close. She must have air," and he moved towards a window. The crowd separated to let him pass and allowed him the use of an entire bench, while more water was brought and the bottle of smelling salts was again produced. In the meantime the coroner whispered to the chief of police, who in turn whispered to a policeman, and the two minions of the law followed Raymond. Margaret lay like one dead, every particle of color having forsaken her cheeks. Raymond waited anxiously, and then applied his ear to her heart. "A doctor!" he cried hoarsely. "A doctor, for Heaven's sake! She is dying!" Doctor Bardon came forward, followed by Doctor Bird, and both looked at the unconscious one closely and critically. There was no shamming here—the shock had been heavy—the bolt had struck home. "This is serious, truly," murmured the older physician. "We had better remove her to a side room and loosen up her garments." Many were willing to assist, but Raymond shook them off and he and Doctor Bird carried Margaret into the room where the jury had arrived at the verdict which had so stunned her. Then a nurse who happened to be in the court-room was called in, and she and the physician began to work over the suffering girl. "Doctor—" Raymond could scarcely speak. "She will—will come around all right?" "Why, I guess so. She has swooned, that is all. The trial was too much for her. And then there was such a crowd, and the ventilation being poor—" The young man waited, five, ten, fifteen minutes—it was as an eternity. The doctor still continued to work, and so did the nurse. Then the latter whispered something and Raymond caught the words, "a mental shock, by her eyes." "What's that?" he questioned. He looked at Margaret and saw that her eyes were wide open and she was staring hard at him. "Margaret!" She did not answer, but continued to stare, turning from him to the nurse and then to the old doctor. The chief of police was at the doorway and she gave him a look that fairly froze his blood. "Who—" she began and stopped short. "How light it is! What struck me? Why are you all staring at me in this manner? What have I done? Where am I? Have I been sick?" "Margaret!" Raymond came closer and took her hand. "Margaret!" She stared at him and flung his hand away. "I've had a horrible dream—I dreamed papa was murdered—that somebody had strangled him! Strangled him to get my engagement ring from me! And there was blood there, blood, and nobody could come to the lawn party. Oh, if they knew—and my poor head—it swims so! And the bottle—the handkerchief—" "Margaret, Margaret! Don't go on so!" He caught her hand again and sank down on his knees beside her. "Be calm. It will all come out right. You fainted, that's all. Don't you remember, Margaret?" "Yes, yes, I remember. You said you would marry me, and then you said, you," she tore her hand away and pointed her finger at him, "you said I had murdered papa and murdered her! Oh, the shame of it, the shame!" And then she gave a shriek and began to rave, tearing at her clothes and her hair, until the latter fell all over her face. The paroxysm lasted for several minutes and then she fainted once more. "I shall have to give her something to quiet her," said the doctor. "She is in a worse state than I at first imagined. The strain has been entirely too much for her nervous system. We must get her to some quiet spot." "Shall we take her home?" asked Raymond. "No, I would not advise that, Mr. ——" "My name is Raymond Case." "My home is a quiet one," spoke up the nurse. "If you wish you can take her there. It is not very far from here." "Besides," the old doctor paused. "The coroner has something to say about it." "Coroner Busby has turned the prisoner over to me," came from the chief of police, and he advanced a few feet into the room. "The prisoner!" faltered Raymond. "Oh, yes, I suppose that is right. But you can't take her to jail. I'll go her ball for any amount he may fix." "Sorry, Mr. Case, but they don't take bail on such a charge as murder." "But you can't lock her up in this condition—it would be inhuman. I'll have her taken to some quiet place and you can have a guard set—I'll pay all the bills. Ask the coroner if that won't do. She isn't going to run away. She looks now more as if she might die!" and he gave a groan that came straight from his heart. The chief of police had once been young and in love with a pretty girl and his face softened. Then he remembered what Raymond had said about paying the bills. "I'll fix it up with Busby," he said. "Go ahead and do what you wish, only don't take her out of town." A little later a carriage was brought around and Margaret was placed inside and driven rapidly to the home of Martha Sampson, the nurse. She began to rave again, but the physician gave her a quieting potion, which put her in a sound but unnatural sleep. She was placed in a pretty and comfortable bedroom on the second floor in the rear, so that she might not be annoyed by those passing the house in front. Two policemen, in plain clothes, were put on guard, one relieving the other. In the meantime the news that Margaret had been adjudged guilty by the coroner's jury spread like wild-fire, and the curiosity seekers could scarcely be kept away from the place to which the poor girl had been taken. "The grand jury can't do anything but indict her," said more than one. "And, if there is any justice left, she'll surely be electrocuted." It was a bitter blow to Raymond, to have Margaret thought guilty, but he did not think of that as he sat by her side, or walked up and down in the little hallway just outside of her door. Her staring eyes haunted him and he longed for a look that should tell him her reason had once more asserted itself. The doctor had come and gone twice and had promised to come again that evening. Slowly the hours wore away. The nurse had gone below to prepare herself something to eat, and Raymond stood by the suffering one's bedside. He saw the eyelids of the one he loved quiver slightly. "Margaret!" he said softly, bending over her. There was no response and he repeated the name several times. Then her eyes opened full. "Where am I?" she asked vacantly. "You are safe, with me," he answered and took her hand. "With you, Raymond? Where?" "At the home of a lady who is going to take care of you for the present." "How queer! I thought I was at my own home." "We thought it best to bring you here. Miss Sampson will do all she can for you. The doctor said you must be kept very quiet." He smoothed down her hair. "You have had a terrible trial, my dear." "A trial? I don't remember it. What was it?" She stared vacantly at him. "Oh, how queer my head feels!" And she put one cold hand to her temple. "Never mind trying to think now, Margaret. Just take it easy. The doctor will come back in a little while and he will give you something that will make you all right again." "How long have I been here?" "Only four hours. Now please, don't worry." "I can't—I can't think—it's all like a terribly dark cloud, Raymond." She stared in a wild fashion and then a look of untold horror crossed her drawn features. "Ah! Yes, yes, I remember now! I remember!" She shook from head to foot. "I remember! The courtroom! And those many men and women! And the ring—our engagement ring—think of that, Raymond! They found blood on it, blood!" And she shivered again. "Margaret, dearest, you must try to keep quiet," he interrupted soothingly. "It will all come out right, I feel certain of it." "Right? I don't know what you mean by that word. Was I on trial, or what?" "No, not on trial. It was simply the coroner's inquest. But don't think of it, dear." He tried to brush back her hair, but she stopped him. The wild look in her eyes was increasing. "The inquest? Oh, yes, I know now, and they said—they said—" She gave a piercing scream. "They said I had killed her and killed my own father! Yes, that I had killed them! Do you hear, Raymond, I had killed them!" She sat up and motioned him away. "Do not touch me! Do not come near me!" "Margaret!" he interrupted appealingly. "No! no! It is too late, too late!" Her voice sank to a hoarse whisper. "I see it all—the blood on the ring, the chloroform, our quarrels, and what she said to me, and then, and then—" She gave another scream. "Go away! go away! You must not come near me again!" "But Margaret, dear—" "No, I cannot listen! You must go away, and let them take me to prison, let them hang me if they will!" Her voice sank still lower. "There is nothing else to do—I see the end. They have cornered me, have found me out! Yes, they have found me out!" She gave a wild, uncanny laugh that made his flesh creep. "Ha! ha! I thought they could not do it, but they did. They have found me out! They have found me out!" And then, with another scream, she pitched back and lay again like one dead. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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