Part 31 (1/2)

_CHAPTER XXII_

”_The Insane Root_”

During the next few days Elliott called frequently and apologetically.

Although he had suffered considerably at the hands of Hallen, he appreciated how much attention he had given me on the plains of Mona where was my Waterloo, and he kept me informed of the doings of our party in the search for the murderer. But it was several days before he brought me the information that both O'Brien and Maloney had been found--O'Brien in a farm-house, nursing his leg; Maloney walking about town, cool and collected, apparently with nothing to conceal. I was told that he was not yet under arrest, but had been coaxed back to the Mansion to give evidence against O'Brien, as he was led to believe.

”But why doesn't he suspect? He must realize that suspicion is against him.”

”Well, Dr. Moore told me recently that the criminal, if insane as we surmise, may be oblivious during his lucid intervals of what he has been through during his periods of aberration.”

”I see,” I answered, remembering that such had been often recorded; ”and as his attacks of mania may be unwitnessed, he escapes detection because he carries but little ordinary evidence of these during the interval of quiescence.”

Before my companion could frame an answer there was a sudden commotion below--a hurrying of feet, and the quiet, commanding voice of Oakes heard now and then above all. We knew the time had at last arrived for the closing scene; we both felt that the hour had come when the final settlement was to take place.

Next moment Oakes appeared. I had not seen him for many hours. He was changed, haggard, worn. His handsome face showed worry and loss of sleep, but his carriage and voice were as usual--vigorous, independent.

Grasping my hand firmly and turning a pleased glance of recognition at Elliott, he said, ”Come, Stone, you're strong enough”; and next moment he had thrown a coat over my shoulders and was helping me down the stairs to the dining-room. He seemed to me to have grown more serious, more quiet than was his wont; but his actions were, as ever, strong, quick, easy of execution, and I knew that it was the steadying of the mind and body for the final strain. Oakes's reputation was at stake, and he was fully cognizant that an error of judgment, a flaw in his reasonings, a mishap in the execution of his well-formulated plans, might readily result disastrously, not only to his reputation but to the cause of justice.

Then I stepped across the threshold of the dining-room, and beheld a scene that will always linger in my mind. At the head of the table sat Hallen, and to his right was Dr. Moore, whose dress contrasted strangely with the Chief's blue uniform and bra.s.s b.u.t.tons. Across the table from Moore was Dowd, and here and there about the room were some of Oakes's men, and some of Hallen's as well, lounging, looking out of the windows carelessly, but comprehensively.

As we entered, a deep guttural of welcome greeted me; and Oakes seated me by Moore's side, and Elliott went over and sat with Dowd. Then the detective took the chair at the foot of the table, near which was an empty one.

It was evident at a glance that Oakes was to be the chief actor, while to Hallen had been given the chief position.

There was a moment's silence, then Hallen turned to Dr. Moore: ”Are you positive,” he said, ”that Maloney is insane? I see no evidence.”

”I am not positive as yet,” was the reply. ”Some signs indicate that he may be in the so-called interval between outbreaks of mental disease; but he is clever, as are almost all the insane, and he covers his condition well. Still, we can, and will put him to the test; we will soon determine if we are dealing with the 'insane root that takes the reason prisoner.'”

”But how can it be? He is not violent. I do not comprehend.”

Moore glanced at the Chief. ”Let Mr. Oakes explain--I should be too technical, I fear; he has an easier flow of words.”

Hallen looked surprised. ”Well, how is it, Oakes? How can you suspect such a man? n.o.body ever saw him violent. What reason have you?”

Then Oakes turned. He was somewhat nettled, I thought, at Hallen's manner, but his voice did not betray him. His words came clearly, even curtly; but as he revealed his comprehensive knowledge of the matter in plain, every-day language, Hallen's manner changed wonderfully. Never before had he had such an opportunity to see the education of the man before him. Now it came as an overwhelming surprise.

”A lunatic does not necessarily rave or carry the ordinary signs of rending pa.s.sion,” began Oakes as he turned a quiet face of acknowledgment toward Dr. Moore. ”The one who hears voices, real to him, but really arising in the diseased mechanism of his own brain--ordering him to be a martyr, a saviour of his country, or to spend the millions he imagines he possesses, is usually melancholy, reserved, cautious, ever on the watch, deceptive, but doubtful sometimes as to his own brain-workings.

”Likewise, the man who possesses the homicidal mania may be cautious and quiet--to the ordinary observer a normal citizen. But the aura of insanity is around him; he lives and moves and deceives, and hides from the outside world the words that come to him day or night--the words that arise not in the voice of a living man, but in his own diseased mind. The sufferer says nothing of the voices that tell him he is persecuted--that the world's hands are against him. By accident, in a moment of unwariness, he may reveal that he hears such voices; but it is an even chance that he will be laughed at and the warning fall on ears that fail to understand. He is considered a 'crank.'

”Then the unfortunate shrinks more into himself, becomes absolutely dominated by the ideas and commands generated in his own false mind. He may become violent by degrees, may scare and haunt the places where he believes himself abused; and all the while the voices tell him he is foolish, being put upon, and finally he becomes controlled by the delusion that he is being persecuted. Then perhaps suddenly comes the incentive, usually a command of false origin within his own brain, that makes the worm turn that reveals to the world that he is a maniac--a 'killer.' He hears the word 'kill,' and his mind, no longer even suspicions of its own disease as it was at first, becomes frenzied. He sometimes attacks openly, but usually does so secretively, with the cunning of the tiger, and kills and slaughters. Then he returns to his dreams--quiet, satisfied, spent.”

Oakes paused. ”You understand, Hallen,” he said, ”I am no expert; but such cases have come to my notice--it is not easy for me to explain more fully.”

”Go on,” was Hallen's answer; ”go on, sir. I am deeply interested--it amazes me.”

The Chief showed his words were those of genuine interest and surprise.