Part 37 (2/2)
she murmured. ”I will try to second his efforts to clear my name, for death were better than shame. I shall, at least, try to deserve his respect.”
Then musingly she added, ”How can my friends have gained any information that would prove me innocent? Mother and Belle cannot know anything definite, nor can Mr. Wentworth. He promised in that brief whisper when he pa.s.sed me in the street that he would prove it. Can he have learned anything in his strange vigilance? It seems impossible. Alas, I fear that their best hope is to show that I have hitherto borne a good character, and yet if my present home and our poverty are described, if--worse than all--papa appears in the court-room, I fear they will think the worst,” and something of her old despair began to return when she heard approaching footsteps.
”Millie!” cried a loved and familiar voice. The key grated in the lock, and in another moment she was sobbing on her mother's breast, and her bruised heart was healed by the unutterable tenderness of a mother's love. It filled the dark cell with the abounding, undoubting, unquestioning spirit of unselfish devotion, which was akin to the fragrance diffused from the broken box of alabaster.
When sufficiently calm, Mildred told her mother what had happened, and she in turn whispered that Roger had strong hopes that he could prove her innocence on the following day, though how she did not know. ”And yet, Millie,” she concluded, ”for some reason he inspires me with confidence, for while he feels so deeply, he is quiet and thoughtful about the least thing. Nothing seems to escape his mind, and he says he has some information of which he does not think it best to speak at present. He entreats you to take courage, and says that if you will 'keep up and be your brave, true self, gentle and strong,' you can do much to aid him. We will all stand by you, and Mr. Wentworth will be with us.”
”Where--where is papa?” faltered Mildred, with a slight flush. ”I don't know,” responded the wife, with a deep sob.
”Alas, mother, it's cruel to say it, but it will be best that he should not appear at all. Keep him away if possible. I hope he may never know anything about it, unless you think this terrible result of his course may awaken him to a final struggle to do right. I would gladly suffer anything to save him.”
”No, Millie, he would not be his old self if he came into court,”
said her mother dejectedly, ”and his appearance and manner might turn the scale against you. Our best hope is to let Roger manage everything. And now, good-by, my darling. G.o.d sustain you. Do not fear anything to night. Roger says you are safe, and that his only dread is that you may become nervously prostrated, and he relies on your help to-morrow. I can't stay any longer. Oh, G.o.d, how glad I would be if I could hold you in my arms all night! Belle is strongly excited, and says she will never believe a word against you, nor will any of your true friends--alas! I wish we had more.”
”Time is up,” warned the doorman.
”Tell Mr. Atwood that I am deeply grateful for his aid, and more grateful for his trust,” said Mildred.
”Courage, Millie; you can sustain me by keeping up yourself. You will find us in the court-room waiting for you.”
With an embrace in which heart throbbed against heart they separated, and the poor girl was comforted and more hopeful in spite of herself, for while she would shrink from Roger, her confidence in his shrewdness and intelligence had made such growth that she half believed he would find some way of proving her innocent, although how he had obtained any evidence in her favor she could not imagine.
The bedding brought by her mother transformed the cellbunk into a comfortable couch, and she lay down and tried to rest, so as to be ready to do her part, and her overtaxed nature soon brought something like sleep. She was startled out of her half-consciousness by a shrill cry, and sprang to her feet. There was a confused sound of steps on the stairs, and then again the same wild cry that almost made her heart stand still. A moment later two policemen appeared, dragging a woman who was resisting and shrieking with demoniacal fury.
The sight was a horrible one. The faces of the great, stalwart men were reddened by exertion, for the woman seemed to possess supernatural strength, and their familiarity with crime was not so great as to prevent strong expressions of disgust. Little wonder, for if a fiend could embody itself in a woman, this demented creature would leave nothing for the imagination. Her dress was wet, torn, and bedraggled; her long black hair hung dishevelled around a white, bloated face, from which her eyes gleamed with a fierceness like that of insanity.
With no little difficulty they thrust her into a cell opposite the one in which Mildred was incarcerated, and as one of the men turned the key upon her he said roughly, ”Stay there now, you drunken she-devil, till you are sober,” and breathing heavily from their efforts they left the poor wretch to the care of the jailer.
Mildred shrank away. Not for the world would she encounter the woman's frenzied eyes. Then she stopped her ears that she might not hear the horrid din and shameful language, which made the place tenfold more revolting. The man in charge of the cells sat dozing stolidly by the stove, some distance away. His repose was not to be disturbed by such familiar sounds.
At last the woman became quiet, and Mildred breathed more freely, until some mysterious sounds, suggesting that her terrible neighbor was trying to open her door, awakened her fears, for even the thought of her coming any nearer made her tremble. She therefore sprang up and looked between the iron bars. At first she was perplexed by what she saw, and then her heart stood still, for she soon made out that the woman was hanging by the neck, from the highest bar of her cell door. ”Help,” Mildred shrieked; ”quick, if you would save life.”
The man by the stove sprang up and rushed forward.
”There, see--oh, be quick!”
The jailer comprehended the situation at once, unlocked the door, and cut the parts of her clothing which the woman had improvised into a halter. She soon revived, and cursed him for his interference.
He now watched her carefully, paying no heed to her horrible tongue, until the crazed stage of her intoxication pa.s.sed into stupor.
[Footnote: The writer saw the cell in which, on the evening before, the woman described tried twice to destroy herself. He also saw the woman herself, when brought before the police justice. She had seen twenty-five years, but in evil she seemed old indeed. According to her story, she was a daughter of the uritans.] To Mildred he said, rea.s.suringly, ”Don't be afraid; you're as safe as if you were at home.”
”Home, home, home!” moaned the poor girl. ”Oh, what a mockery that word has become! My best hope may soon be to find one in heaven.”
CHAPTER x.x.xIV
”A WISE JUDGE”
When the interminable night would end Mildred could not guess, for no dawning was visible from her bas.e.m.e.nt cell. The woman opposite gradually became stupid and silent. Other prisoners were brought in from time to time, but they were comparatively quiet. A young girl was placed in a cell not far away, and her pa.s.sionate weeping was pitiful to hear. The other prisoners were generally intoxicated or stolidly indifferent, and were soon making the night hideous with their discordant respiration.
The place had become so terrible to Mildred that she even welcomed the presence of the policeman who had arrested her, and who at last came to take her to the police court. Must she walk with him through the streets in the open light of day? She feared she would faint on what, in her weakness, would be a long journey, and her heart gave a great throb of grat.i.tude as she saw Eoger awaiting her in the large general room, or entrance, to the station-house.
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