The Storyteller

New Zealand Tablet, 8 February 1917, Page 3

The Storyteller

By Anna T. Sadlikr.

PHILEAS FOX, ATTORNEY

t [By Arrangement with : the Ave Maria ■ ■ - (Continued.) _ , .' ’ , XVII. ! • ' Father Driscoll - secured for Phileas a notification to wait upon John V orst for a■; second interview; The v worthy priest, glad of an opportunity -to pay a friendly visit to the lawyer from New York, brought the message himself to the hotel, in the big empty drawingroom of which the two were enabled to speak quite unreservedly. After a few moments of desultory conversation, during which no allusion whatever was made to the matter in hand, Phileas himself told what had passed at his interview with John Vorstj ’ and Father Driscoll evinced the liveliest satisfaction at the prospect of an amicable settlement of the long-standing difficulties. John Vorst deserves,’ he said, if ever a man deserved, to have a few years of tranquillity before his final departure. He has had such a long, harassing time of it. And I may tell you that I regard him as an ideal layman. But what is the next step to bo taken ?’ I ‘ I should advise,’ answered Phileas, ‘ that Mr. Vorst return to New York with me. lam quite satisfied that Mrs. Wilson is growing very feeble, and the sooner matters are settled the better for all parties.’ ‘ I am altogether of your way of thinking,’ said the priest. ‘ But can you make the necessary arrangements for his return in so short a time?’ I- ‘ I think so,’ declared Phileas. ‘ I chance to have been brought into contact, professionally, with Mr. Vorst’s former landlady, and his room at her house is still vacant. If he consents, I shall wire her. Then there need not be much delay in “fixing up things”; for Mrs. Wilson is only too anxious for a final adjustment. In fact, as a measure of precaution/ and acting on my advice, she signed most of the important papers before my departure.’ 1 Good !’ said Father Driscoll. ‘ Then you will call upon Mr. Vorst to-day, as he has expressed a desire to see you. But, if you wish, I shall go to the hotel now and prepare him for your suggestion.’ ‘I shall be very grateful,’ said Phileas: and he accompanied the priest to the door, where they stood a few moments, commenting on the buildings and the streets of the Puritan city. Father Driscoll said, in parting: ‘ You have a good profession, my boy. Honor it and it will honor you. v. It needs ideals, i you know: the higher the better.! .Then he added, softening the admonition by a laugh You ought to change your name when you’re dealing with honest men. I was a little afraid of you when I glanced at your card.’ : f i » • Phileas was somewhat sore upon : that point, but he joined in the laugh. i ‘ You will be quite a rarai avis -then iff an honest lawyer, and a fox that is not predatory.’ ; When Phileas was ushered into John Vorst’s . presence that afternoon, he found the old gentleman quite reconciled to the proposal, and even anxious to return to his old quarters. ' f. That good creature, Susan O’Rourke); made me so comfortable,’ he said, ‘she quite spoiled me for anything else; and, then, at my age one sighs'for,the old places that were familiar Ho. one’s youth. "" I don’t know precisely why that should be so, Mr. Fox,’ he went on, reflectively. ‘ One place, ought to be quite as good as another to those who have ; almost finished the great journey. For, wherever we - are, ' the mighty pageant—in which we no longer Have part-goes on

very well without us. But I suppose it is in the same manner that we go back' to read the pages of a wellthumbed volume.: • Its familiarity is its charm.’ It was with evident reluctance that John Vorst entered upon the pecuniary details of the approaching > contest. _ ; : _ . .. / . - V ‘.I will confess,’ he said, ‘ perhaps to my shame, : that I have never had any great aptitude for affairs. It is true, at one time I hotly contested 7 that claim,— , ' or, rather, my counsel did,’ he added with a smile. * But that was on abstract grounds of justice, in order not to prove myself a swindler; and also because of a sentimental attraction toward that old house in Monroe street, where my boyhood had been passed. Moreover, then, as now, there were others to be considered, —a widowed sister, since dead, who has left children. - I have never seen them, because I faded out of active life before they had entered thereupon. There is also a brother df‘mine, who has taken Holy • Orders and resides in England. For their sakes nothing must be • left to chance.’ _ It was, therefore, agreed that Phileas should 7 wire at once to Mrs. O’Rourke and that, two days later, the two men should travel together to New York. •* Phileas Fox was fairly treading on air, in the height of his satisfaction. That long and tedious case, which he -had fancied might stretch out interminably, was thus in the way of being settled almost immediately. He sent from the office of the hotel a wire* addressed to Mrs. O’Rourke. It ran thus ‘ Have front parlor prepared for your old lodger, who returns on Thursday. ; ' : Phileas Fox.’ Then he went over to the Cathedral, and knelt in fervent prayer for the successful issue of what remained 3 to be done. After which he permitted himself the luxury of a carriage, and drove out to Mount Auburn and to those other lovely suburbs which have made Boston famous. His mind, relaxed and at rest somewhat from the strain of anxiety and suspense, turned instinctively to pleasanter things; and he recalled, amongst others, that trip to Staten Island which he had so recently made with the most charming girl in the world. For by this time he had come to regard Isabel in some such light; and he felt a real gratification at the thought that he was so soon to see her again, and to be brought into active relation with her. It occurred to him, with a sudden sinking of his spirits, that the cessation of the case would no doubt bring about the cessation of their intercourse. Their ways led so far apart; he a briefless barrister; while she had been brought up in a wealthy and exclusive sphere, to which he in no sense belonged. Then, with the optimism of youth . that gilds , all things just as the sun was then gilding and bringing out the iridescent colors of the lovely groups of flowers, he began to wonder if she were, after all, so far removed from him; or if she would be content in a year or two, or when he had made his way somewhat, to share his fortunes and struggle .upcward at his side. He smiled at the swiftness with $ which his thoughts had gone forward; and, awaking from his reverie, he strove to give his whole attention to the sights which the driver was showing him.. That . evening ,he dined at . the hotel with John Vorst; and, in fact, was so much in his society during those, two days that he felt as if he had known him for years. On board the boat returning to New York, the two, who had been so : strangely brought into each other s life, talked with a freedom which is not always the result of long acquaintanceship. Upon one subject alone John Vorst maintained an inviolable reserve, and that was wherever the plaintiff in the famous lawsuit was concerned. The name of Martha Spooner Wilson was never so much as mentioned; the relation ~V in which the'two had stood to each other, the reason of their separation, and all the rest of ; that tragic story, - remained as a sealed book. If he were aware that the attorney had been informed of all those . things, he gave no sign. And it was on only one occasion that he spoke of another matter that was dear to his heart

,V . 1- • 1. 1 1 . J * , , J ' J that religion which he had so faithfully loved and practised for nearly man's allotted span. ;r% ‘ Our faith,’ ho said,——' what a splendid heritage it is, and how worthy the consideration of reasoning man ! It meets us at every point during the journey of our life, and sets up landmarks. It controls, directs, satisfies and brightens intellectual aspirations; it feeds the heart. Enviable the young man who sets out in life under the guidance, of v. that true pilot, that alone can weather storms,’ They sat' and conversed thus until the night was far worn. The lights in the saloon were lowered, and the groups had gradually dispersed. There was. a solemnity there, under the stars; looking down from a deep, calm, azure, where the white clouds scudded here and there like wandering spirits in search of. a haven. -t ‘ I.have often said to myself,’ continued the elder man, ‘ “Look up at those stars and doubt if you can.” That sidereal world seems the vast witness of truth.’ ‘ And,’ thought. Phileas,. ‘some men, like this one . before me, are likewise witnesses of truth in the various positions which they fill in life.’ In the early morning, the two men breakfasted at a place on Broadway where the most delicious cream-topped coffee could be had, together with Vienna rolls, crisp, delicate bacon, strawberries and cream. It was an enjoyable meal, over which the pair lingered. John Vorst rejoiced at being back once more in the city which he had known and loved. ‘ I have been a traveller in my time, Mr. Fox,’ he said, ‘ but I am always well content to find myself in this curious, cosmopolitan thoroughfare, which boasts no beauty, and which, with its feverish bustle and haste, is unendurable to the cursory observer. But there are quiet portions of Manhattan, where tranquillity is almost as obtainable as in the country; and I see it, besides, through the glamor of years. I fancy myself once more thrilling at thought of exhibiting my new topcoat or beaver, my patent-leather boots, or any other article of finery, on the avenue of a Sunday morning- I always see Broadway as I first consciously remember it half a century ago.’ When Phileas rang the bell at Mrs. O’Rourke’s door, it was opened "by Susan herself. Her face was fairly beaming, though her eyes were streaming with tears. Every trace of care, of weariness, or of cynical doubt, was momentarily gone. - ‘You see I have brought him back to you !’ exclaimed Phileas, indicating his companion. ‘ And may God in heaven bless you for that same!’ answered Susan. To her late lodger, who was somewhat slower in reaching the upper step, she began a series of curtsies, as though the newly-arrived had been her feudal lord and she his tenant at will. ‘ Is it yourself, sir?’ she cried. ‘ It is indeed, Mrs, O’Rourke,’ replied Mr. Vorst, with corresponding warmth, and seizing the toilroughened hand of the landlady ,in a cordial - grip. ‘l’m glad to see you again.’ : And I’m as proud and glad as— * * -; : : She could find no apposite comparison, so she left her sentence unfinished, and fell to wiping "her eyes with her apron. ' ‘ v ...’ :■ ‘ But of course you got Mr. Fox’s: telegram V John Vorst inquired. : : : ‘I did indeed, sir; and here’s, your room ready for you just as the day you left it.’ She threw open the door of the same apartment into which upon a former, occasion' she had ushered Phileas, and showed the spacious room, clean, wellaired, and as shining as two days’ good cleaning could make it. “■,,, . . v-" . . ■ ‘ It’s myself is glad to see you in it once again! ’ the poor creature.» repeated • enthusiastically. , ; - tYou may thank Mr. Fox for that,’ laughed Mr. Vorst, expanding, under the warmth .of -her- greeting- -f *■: .4' ■" ‘I do thank him; and morning and night, when

I go on my knees, - I’ll always remember him for that same, as well as for the kind acts he 1 did - to me.’ S John Vorst turned a glance of warm approval upon the young attorney: I■■ You must tell me all about it, he said to Susan ; tor you and I both are feeling very grateful to him.’ ?- ‘;*: can not wait for. that recital,’. said Phileas, j joyously. .He, too, was in excellent spirits at the ? result of his journey. ‘ I have to get back to sober ate, and I must not have my head turned.' Phileas, having seen his new friend, for whom he felt a real attachment and a boundless admiration, installed in his old quarters, took the subway down town to his long-neglected office. He threw open the door with a new feeling of importance; he aired the room, which had a close smell, as though it had been long unused;. he arranged the chairs and tables, and dusted ' the folios. . When at last he sat down at the desk, he felt as = if he had been dreaming, and . was still a briefless barrister, with no work to do save dozing over an imaginary case. He reviewed in swift succession all that had taken place since that first day when he took possession ■ of this legal sanctum; and his thoughts lingered oftenest and longest upon Isabel Yentnor. He brought her image before him with a delight which no longer left him any illusion- as to his sentiments toward her. Her face, fresh, laughing, yet mobile and sensitive, had a far greater charm for him— so he said to his impressionable heart— many a one more perfect in coloring or outline. Her slender, well-proportioned figure, dressed always with that harmony of detail that far .surpasses costliness of material, seemed to him the most delightful and the most attractive in the whole range of femininity. He hoped that he should see her again very soon and very often. ■ * He was roused from his reverie by the opening of this office door, and a voice demanding if Mr. Fox was back yet. - He answered that question in the affirmative ; and during the next few hours the door continued to open and to admit an almost continuous stream of people. They were mostly petty clients such as build up a practice. Each was, however, in as great a hurry as though his - particular affairs were of paramount importance, and as if it were impossible fo£ him to wait an instant. Hence there was not a moment wherein the lawver found himself free to wait upon Mrs. Wilson ; but he decided that if he did not go thither that evening, he would certainly go the following day. And the following day he went under circumstances which he could not have foreseen. It was immediately after luncheon ; and Phileas had just come in from the crowded streets, hot, dusty, and tired, when the telephone rang. Isabel Ventnor, in a voice so agitated as to be barely recognisable, asked: ‘ Has Mr. Fox returned ’ Yes,’ said Phileas. ‘He is speaking'.’ ‘For God’s sake come at once! Don’t lose an ; instant. It is Isabel Yentnor.’ Before he could ask any questions the instrument was shut off. It took Phileas scarcely an appreciable time to reach the street and hail a passing cab, in which he caused himself to be bowled along at a breakneck pace by the quietest ways, through which there might be the least obstruction. 7 ; yThe mansion lay in a sort of repose that seemed more pronounced than usual. The sun fell in long, slanting beams over the trees where they stood in their prim rows or waved in swaying curves. Cadwallader, with face that was ashen gray and eyes rolling wildly, opened the door without a word. He brought the lawyer to the library. - Phileas paused, spellbound, upon the threshold. Isabel, with pallid, terror-stricken face, pointed to a figure in the chair, —the same that had‘fascinated the young man on the opening of the door. Seated before the table, as he had seen her last, her eyes wide open and burning in their sockets, with their unseeing gaze fixed upon an unoccupied corner of the room, was tjie mistress of the mansion,

=■' Ghastly in the extreme was the appearance she presented. She was clad in a rich gown of brocade, and fairly ablaze with jewels, which, as Phileas quickly surmised belonged ttr the rbws of. cases that he had seen in the safe. Those receptacles, m fact; lay empty upon the table; while their glittering contents, chiefly diamonds in the - form of necklaces, tiaras, bracelets, rings, and aigrettes, had been employed to deck the shrunken frame of Mrs. Wilson. The resplendence of the stones fairly dazzled the eyes that looked at them. The lawyer s glance wandered to the safe in the corner, which stood wide open, staring with desolate blankness, its long-guarded secrets displayed to every comer. From , the lips of the strangely bedizened figure came forth inarticulate sounds, apparently addressed to some shadowy presentment of overwrought .fancy. It was a smgular, a weird scene, that sent a shudder through the attorney s frame and shook his healthy nerves. ~ What should iwe do?’ inquired Isabel, who, though white to the lips, stood ready for any emergency. I thought it better to wait till the doctor comes before making any effort to disturb her.* ‘Has she been long like this?’ Phileas asked. ' I scarcely know myself,’ the girl answered. ‘ I went out, as I often do, for a walk ; leaving Mrs: Wilson apparently in her usual health, taking her afternoon sleep upon the couch in her own room. I was not gone long ; and when I came in Cadwallader told me that she had dressed alone—a thing she never does,— and had come downstairs, also without assistance. The Negro met her, and offered his arm ; but she had passed mm by without a word, walking very straight, as he had not seen her for years. She had come into the library and closed the door, so that he had been afraid to follow. Of course I rushed in here as soon as I heard his story, and found things as you see them. I tried to bring her back to consciousness and to make her hear my voice, but it was all no use. I telephoned for the priest and the doctor. Both were out, but I am expecting them every moment. Then I thought of you, and I thank you so much for coming promptly.’ I wonder, said Phileas, ‘ if it would be better to try to rouse her, or to wait a little longer ?’.- ‘Perhaps we might try again,’ declared Isabel; and, kneeling down, she put her arm around the aged figure and said: ‘Don’t you know me, dear? It’s Isabel.’ ; - But the eyes looked past her with the same wild stare, and the lips continued to murmur inaudible words. ‘Perhaps if you were to try?’ said Isabel; and Phileas, bending down, took Mrs. Wilson’s withered hand, now burning with fever, into his own, so cool and firm. He spoke very distinctly. The unseeing eyes were turned on him an instant, and the voice, thick and husky, and altogether unlike its ordinary clear enunciation, managed to form the question : ‘Are you John Vorst?’ ‘No,’ answered the young man. ‘I am your attorney, Phileas.Fox.’ For an instant the face became disturbed, as with some effort of memory; it seemed as if reason were struggling back into the unnaturally distended eyes. But the expression almost instantaneously faded, though the hand rested in the cool, strong grasp. ‘ Are you tired, Mrs. Wilson ?’ asked Phileas, soothingly. The genuine pity and tenderness in the tone fell gratefully upon Isabel’s ear. It likewise seemed to please the delirious patient, whose gaze became less unnatural, while something like a smile hovered about the lips. ‘ If we could get her upstairs it might be better,’ Phileas declared to Isabel. But at that moment.the door opened, and the old family doctor entered, closely followed by Father Van Buren. The former examined the patient carefully. ‘lt is a singular case,’ he said; ‘but I do not think there is any immediate danger of death. It would be well, howeyer, if she squid be put to bed as

soon as possible, without;,unduly' exciting her. It is of the utmost importance that she be : kept quiet.’ '; r? V •- It was Phileas who took from her the jewels—, though she at first ■ resisted; the :: attempt, —and gave them into Father Van Buren’s keeping, that they might be locked away. Then the young lawyer raised - .... P- .. ...... . - ' • ' ii: i. i. i 1 j i ■ his client in his strong arms, as though she had been a little child, and carried her upstairs. > - (To be continued.)