IN THE DARK OF THE MOON

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXII, Issue XX, 20 May 1899, Page 697

IN THE DARK OF THE MOON

(By

Elizabeth Harman.)

I wore a gown that had been part of my husband’s great grandmother’s trousseau. It was of heavy white satin, embroidered in silver and pearls. In my hair I wore a beautiful diamond butterfly, that had been one of my wedding presents, and around my neck I wore my long string of pearls, that wound around and around and then fell in a long loop below my waist. In addition to this ample sufficient ornamentation I wore the diamond necklace that had been given to my mother on her marriage, and the diamond and pearl chain, and the frame holding a miniature of my late father-in-law, that he had given to my mother-in-law on her marriage. Around the square neck of the bodice I had fastened all the jewelled brooch* es and stick pins 1 possessed. We were spending the summer with my mother-in-law in Virginia, but she had gone away for a short visit, leaving us in charge, and I had thus bedecked myself in celebration of the first evening that we were alone together in the countrj' home of my husband’s ancestors.

‘Yes,’ I said to myself, as I stood in the big hall after tea, contemplating my reflection in the mirror, ‘I am a composite of brides. I wonder if in the far future some other young woman will be standing here looking at her image and thinking of me as a hazy, indistinct, pleasing person, because I left for her an antiquated handsome gown or a diamond butterfly?’ •Is the doctor in the house?’ said a voice with a decidedly foreign accent, breaking in on my sentimentalities. I turned and saw standing at the open door a short, broad-faced, swarthy man, with straight, black hair, heavy but well defined eyebrows, and shining black eyes. He held his hat in his hand, and was bowing to me, but under his respectful manner 1 could see the curiosity that my appearance roused. •The doctor is upstairs,’ I said. ‘What do you want?’

‘My wife vella sick; the doctor who live in the village, he gone; they tell me doctor at Hilltop. This Hilltop?’ ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I will tell the doctor about your wife.’ I went upstairs and found my husband in his room, ransacking his trunk for a special box of cigars. ‘A man wants to see you, Will.’ I said. ‘He is an Italian, and looks as if he had left his banana cart at the gate. He says his wife is “vella sick,” that the doctor in the village is away, and that he wants you to go to see her.’

‘But I can’t leave you alone,’ said Will.‘You know all of the servants are going to the camp meeting.’ ‘Uncle John isn’t,’ said I.

Uncle John was an old coloured retainer.

‘But Uncle John couldn’t hear away back in the quarters if you screamed yourself hoarse.’ ‘Oh, well, I’m not afraid, anyhow,’ I protested, ‘and, besides I’ll have Mike. You'll take car e of me, won’t you, old man?’ and I leaned over to pat my big Newfoundland as he lay snoozing on the floor. He half opened one eye and thumped his tail hard on the floor.

‘Well. I’ll go down and see the man,’ said Will.

In a few minutes he came up again looking worried. ‘l'll have to go,’ he said, taking up his little medicine case from the table. ‘From what the man says I suspect the woman is in the last stages of consumption. I’ll start as soon as they bring my horse around.’ ‘But why don’t you go in the cart and take him with von?’

‘Oh, he seemed in a hurry to get back, and I showed him the short cut across the fields. By going that way he will cut two miles, and whether I ride or drive I’ll have to follow the road and travel slowly, for it's nil

down hill and rocky and steep. He’ll beat me there. Sure you’re not the least bit nervous?’ ‘Absolutely sure,’ I maintained stoutly; and we went downstairs, Mike following us, and sat on the porch until the horse was brought. Then Will rode away. I watched him until he was out of sight. Then I went in, and locked the door behind me, leaving Mike on the porch. ‘Jenny,’ I said, going to the dining room, where the maid was scurrying about, clattering dishes in her anxiety to finish her work and be off. ‘I want you to be particularly careful about locking up the house before you go. Put Mike in as soon as you give him his drink of water, and take the baek door key with you. I will throw the front door key out to Mr Will when he comes. And, Jenny, don’t say anything to any one about my being alone.’ ‘Oh, no, Miss, I won't say nothin’ about it,’ said Jenny; and then, with a spirit of real self-sacrifice, she added, ‘lf you’re skeered, I'll stay with you.’

‘And miss camp meeting?’ I exclaimed. ‘No, indeed, Jenny, I couldn’t think of letting you stay. I’m not afraid—l just want to take reasonable precautions.' I examined my room for a possible thief, and locked the door. Then I examined and locked Will’s room; then, as I never had any love for sitting up by myself in a lonely house, I undressed, put all my jewels in an inlaid box on the dressing table, and went to bed, though the sky was not yet quite dark. Rather to my own surprise, I found myself growing drowsy, and was soon asleep. I must have been asleep for several hours when I woke with a start, conscious that there had been a noise in the hall.

‘ls that you, Mike?’ I called, and listened for the answering thump of his tail.

Instead, a man’s voice, trying palpably to be soft and reassuring, said: ‘Yes; letta me in.’

It was the Italian’s voice. For an instant terror mastered me. I was rigid from head to foot, and I could feel my hair rise on my head. Then the realisation of my frightful

position gave me a supernatural calm —1 saw everything in a flash. Jenny had forgotten to put Mike in, and he had probably followed her to camp meeting. The Italian had come to get the jewels—he had effected an entrance, and, thinking that Mike was my husband’s name.'had answered, in hopes that 1 would open the door; there seemed to be only one thing to do, and I did it. ■Come through the other door, dear,' 1 said sleepily. "You know this door doesn’t unlock.’

1 heard his hand sliding across the panels of the door as he felt his way down the hall. Then noiselessly I slid out of bed, swiftly went to the dressing table, caught up the jewel box, and climbed out of the window on to the sloping roof of the porch, A big wistaria vine twisted around one of the pillars, and threw its branches on to the roof. As if I had done it a hundred times, I went at once to the edge, and holding to the branches, clambered and fell to the ground. Just at that moment a crash upstairs told me that the door had been broken in; and now—what should I do? Should I run down the road, to meet my husband? Yes! I started off—but the Italian would know that 1 had gone that way and he would follow me! I darted into the shadow of a cluster of pine trees, dreading lest an evil face should even then be peering from the window. No. he did not yet realise that I had escaped from the room. I could distinctly hear matches being struck, and could see their flash, and their brief illumination; he was looking for the jewels—and for me! Where could 1 go? What could 1 do? 1 raised my eyes hopelessly to the trees that sheltered me; their branches had been cut off for five feet from the ground—but stdl, 1 saw that my only chance was to conceal myself in them. 1 reached up and placed the box as securely as 1 could in the tree nearest me. and after what seemed to me hours of ineffectual struggling. I managed to pull myself up into the tree. I tucked the box under my arm, and climbed as high as I could go, the branches closing under me. The other trees prevented my seeing into my room, but in a moment I heard muttered curses. The Italian was looking

out of the window for me. Then eaine a silence. Then 1 heard him drop on to the porch from one of the drawing-room windows. Was he going? No —he came directly toward the pine trees; he groped about under their shadows. 1 trembled so that I could hear the jewels clink lightly against each other; if he had looked up, he could not have failed to have seen me. but he did not raise his eyes. ‘lf 1 find her, she not tell!’ he muttered menacingly; then he went out on to the path, and stood for a moment. •She gone to meet the signior,’ he said, with conviction; and he laughed a wicked, cruel laugh, and started down the road at a run.

Then all my courage left me. 1 could scarcely keep myself together long enough to climb down to the ground, and there I fell in a limp, helpless heap. Good old Uncle John, hobbling about on a tour of inspection an hour later, found me, and called the servants. who had returned from camp meeting, and had me put to bed. My husband, coming home at eight o’clock in the morning, saw nothing unusual about the house as he came up to my room. •Well, you seem to have gotten along very comfortably,’ he said. ‘Did you think 1 was never coining? The woman was desperately ill, and died at about one o’clock. 1 left her with some coloured women, and started home. Her husband had not come back, and I rather expected to meet him on the road, and 1 did. He must have gotten my directions about the short cut confused, and wandered about in the fields until he finally came on the path, and then he evidently ran as hard as he could, and, not knowing that the path, where, it joins the main road, goes down a steep bank, he leaped right over the edge, and broke his neck. He was still warm when 1 found him. 1 had to go back a mile or so to the nearest cabin, to get some men to move him, and that is what made me so late. The man must have been a coward, for he had this in his hand.’ and he held out before me a long, slim, sharp knife. Involuntarily 1 raised my hand to mv throat.

I knew what the Italian had drawn it for!