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"No," replied the lawyer quickly, "we'll tell no one. I don't want the scoundrel to escape."
"I've told Miss Paula everything," said Tod gaily. Jokingly, he added: "Would you believe it? She's sorry to leave Sea Rest!"
Paula laughed, a frank, girlish peal of merriment unclouded by care or anxiety. It was the first laugh since she had come to the asylum, and she was surprised how good it felt. Her eyes sparkled with new joy and happiness. Thank G.o.d! Her troubles were at an end. Freedom was now only a question of minutes. The terrible nightmare was over, a thing of the past. No more would she be terrified by the sight of padded cells or haunted by Dr. Zacharie's cruel, diabolical smile. And as she clung more tightly to Tod's arm she thought with grat.i.tude in her heart how true and devoted a friend he had been through all these dark days. But for him, her uncle and Mr. Cooley might have succeeded in their design, they might have kept her confined in the asylum for years. The outside world would never have known or cared. She might have died there and no one been the wiser. She felt sorry for Mrs. Marsh, for she believed in the sincerity of the woman's repentance. Besides, she was ready to forgive her anything. Was she not the mother of the one being she loved better than anyone in the world?
Turning to Mrs. Marsh, she said with a sympathetic smile:
"It's fortunate for me--but is hard for you, isn't it?"
"Oh, never mind me," murmured Mrs. Marsh, averting her face. "You did not deserve to suffer. I do."
"Dr. McMutrie has been very kind," went on Paula; "he seemed to realize instinctively that Dr. Zacharie was against me. That fact alone enlisted his sympathy."
"Yes, my dear," said Mrs. Marsh, who had somewhat recovered from her agitation, "Dr. McMutrie is an exceptionally nice man. One doesn't often meet such men nowadays." With a mischievous glance at Tod, she added: "He's almost as nice as my son, don't you think so, Paula?"
Understanding her meaning, the girl blushed, and the alert Tod, quick to seize the psychological moment, thought this as good a time as any to put to words what his eyes had already told her eloquently enough:
"Paula," he whispered, "I----"
"Hush!" said Mr. Ricaby warningly. "Here's Mr. Cooley!"
Bascom Cooley, head erect and defiant as ever, came slowly down the stairs and glared savagely at each individual member of the group gathered in the office waiting for him. He knew that he was checkmated, that his reign of terror was ended, that the Marsh millions had slipped out of his grasp, but still he would not acknowledge defeat. They thought they had trapped him, did they? Well, he would show them that the old fox was too cunning for them. He stood in silence, waiting for someone to speak. Finally, Mr. Ricaby stepped forward. His face was pale, but his voice firm as he said:
"Bascom Cooley, I suppose Mr. Marsh has already told you that we know.
There is no use mincing matters. You and James Marsh will have to answer to the proper authorities for as d.a.m.nable and wicked a criminal conspiracy as was ever plotted in the history of the State. In your greed for gold you have deliberately done a great wrong. You have committed subornation of perjury, you have wilfully concocted and distorted evidence, all for the sordid miserable purpose of securing dishonestly the control of funds belonging to another. Believing that your political influence would hold you immune, you have outraged every law of order and decency. You have robbed both the public and the individual. You have become rich on the sufferings of those you have victimized. There is hardly a crime in the calendar that may not be laid at your door. Your past career is a matter of public record. Until now you have gone scot-free. People knew of your misdeeds, your turpitudes were a matter of common gossip, but everybody was afraid of you, afraid to denounce you. They lacked proof. But now it is different. We have the proofs at last. To-morrow your disgrace will be blazoned forth in flaming 'scareheads' on the front page of every newspaper in the land.
You are a contemptible person--not worthy to be called a man! You are a disgrace to the profession of which I myself have the honor to be an humble member. But your day of reckoning is close at hand. In the case of this poor unfortunate girl your greed has overreached itself. You went too far--so far that, at last, your fellow conspirator refused to follow you any longer. He has turned State's evidence. He will help convict you and put you behind the bars!"
Mr. Ricaby halted a moment, for sheer want of breath. The bystanders, trembling with excitement, crowded eagerly around, closely watching the chief figures in this sensational denunciation. They expected that the burly lawyer, rendered furious by all these insults, would attack his opponent. Physically he was more than a match for Mr. Ricaby, and the latter certainly had not spared his words. But there was no fight in Bascom Cooley. On his pasty white, bloated face, the sweat stood out like glistening beads. His fat, swine-like mouth quivered as, with clenched fists, he replied hoa.r.s.ely:
"What the h--ll are you talking about? Who'll believe all that rubbish?
What proofs have you got?"
Thus challenged, Mr. Ricaby returned to the attack.
"Proofs?" he almost shouted. "We've got all the proofs any jury will want. Not only shall we have the sworn testimony of James Marsh, your accomplice, but we have had you yourself shadowed. Yes, Mr. Cooley, we have had detectives on your track. Unknown to you, unsuspected by you, our men have watched your every movement for weeks past. You have not made a call, you have not sent a message without it being instantly faithfully reported to me. We know now who your political friends are, we know so well that they will not dare come to your rescue, for if they have the temerity to interfere in your just punishment, we will ruin them as well. They shall share in your downfall. Corrupt servants of the public, they have accepted your bribes and they shall share your fate!"
Mr. Cooley grew whiter and visibly more nervous. His defiant manner had completely disappeared. His att.i.tude was more humble and conciliatory.
Shuffling his feet nervously on the floor, he said:
"I don't see why there should be any misunderstanding. I am ready to make amends for any inconvenience I may have caused Miss Marsh. My client, Mr. James Marsh, has informed me of his intentions to withdraw all opposition to your writ of _habeas corpus_.
"Miss Paula may go when she pleases--the authorities have instructions.
Furthermore, it is Mr. Marsh's intention to withdraw from the guardianship of his niece--and to return to her the estate intact--intact--with interest if she asks it."
He stopped and looked around for approval, but everybody was dumb. A dead silence reigned. He went on:
"As to the question of conspiracy--criminal conspiracy--let me remind my client's wife----"
Mrs. Marsh started nervously.
"Yes, madam," he said, pointing his finger at her. "You and your son both! If Mr. Marsh and I go to prison you will go with us. If we are guilty so are you. If my unfortunate client has made any remarks about me they are insinuations based on motives of self-interest-- Now, I've warned you--Ricaby--you young reformers must learn to let sleeping dogs lie. Conspiracy is an edged tool--it not only cuts both ways, but sometimes it cuts the hand that holds it."
Turning to Mr. Ricaby, he continued:
"Go to the district attorney, have me indicted, but if you do I swear to G.o.d that I'll tell some truths about this woman's husband that will make her regret her action. Do your worst, Mr. Ricaby. Now I have the honor to wish you all good day!"
Turning on his heel, he took his departure. No one attempted to stop him, all rejoiced to see him go. Paula turned to Mrs. Marsh who, overcome with emotion, was weeping bitterly. Tod putting his arm around her, attempted to comfort her, while Paula knelt by her side.
"In order to protect themselves," said Paula gently, "these men have accused you. We can't reach them without hurting you. Isn't that what Mr. Cooley meant, Mr. Ricaby?"
"Yes," replied the lawyer grimly.
"They will accuse you of conspiring with them, too! Oh, that's horrible!"
"We'll be all right, Paula," said Tod rea.s.suringly.
"Yes, but they may believe this man Cooley. They may believe my uncle.
They may put your mother in prison!"
"We must prosecute them, Paula," insisted Mr. Ricaby. "We cannot compound a felony even if----"
"Yes," she retorted, "but why should the innocent suffer for the guilty?
Why should--Tod----Why should he suffer? No, I won't appear against them-- I refuse! Do you hear, Mr. Ricaby, I won't!"
"They can't do anything to us, Paula," said Tod. "We shall be all right.
They must be punished as a warning to others-- I don't feel so hard against Marsh--but Cooley--he's the real criminal."
"He must go to prison," insisted Mr. Ricaby. "Marsh is only a figurehead--but Cooley represents the System--an iniquitous organization of crooks----"
"What do I care for the System and warning to others if he is to suffer, too?" retorted Paula. "No, I--I care only for----"
She stopped suddenly, and her face flushed and then turned pale. She realized that she was betraying herself, but Tod had heard the exclamation. Silently he pressed her hand and she returned the pressure.
Without exchanging a word they understood each other.
"Mr. Chase," said Mr. Ricaby, "will you pardon me a moment? I wish to speak to Miss Marsh alone."
"Certainly," he replied. "Come, mother, we'll prosecute those men, and she will appear against them. Wait out there----"
"Do whatever you think is right, Mr. Ricaby," said Mrs. Marsh.
"Whatever is right," he echoed; "that shall be to them----"
When they had disappeared, Paula said quickly:
"No, I will not-- I refuse."
"You must!" insisted the lawyer, unwilling to be balked of his prey now in his hour of triumph.