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"And now we must go back to him! We were to have telegraphed him; we won't now, will we?"
"My poor, poor Elizabeth!" cried the general brokenly.
"How shall we ever tell him!"
"I will go alone," said the general.
"No, no--I must see him! You are sure we have time to catch our train--if we should miss it--" and the thought gave her a sudden feverish energy.
"You need not hurry," her father a.s.sured her.
"But look at your watch!" she entreated.
"We have half an hour," he said.
"You can think of nothing more to do?" she asked, after another brief silence.
"Nothing, dear."
Little was said until they boarded the train, but in the drawing-room of the Pullman which her father had been able to secure, Elizabeth's restraint forsook her, and she abandoned herself to despair. Her father silently took his place at her side. Oppressed and preoccupied, the sting of defeat unmitigated, he was struggling with the problem of the future. The morrow with its hideous tragedy seemed both the end and the beginning. One thing was clear to him, they must go away from Idle Hour where North had been so much a part of Elizabeth's life. Nothing had been added to this decision when at length the train pulled into Mount Hope.
"We are home, dear," he said gently.
[Ill.u.s.tration: She abandoned herself to despair.]
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
THE LAST LONG DAY
A long day, the last of many long days he told himself, was ended, and John North stood by his window. Below in the yard into which he was looking, but within the black shadow cast by the jail, was the gallows.
Though indistinguishable in the darkness, its shape was seared on his brain, for he had lived in close fellowship with all it emphasized. It was his gallows, it had grown to completion under his very eyes that it might destroy him in the last hour.
There had been for him a terrible fascination in the gaunt thing that gave out the odor of new wood; a thing men had made with their own hands; a clumsy device to inflict a brutal death; a left-over from barbarism which denied every claim of civilization and Christianity!
Now, as the moon crept up from behind the distant hills, the black shadows retreated, and as he watched, timber by timber the gallows stood forth distinct in the soft clear light. In a few hours, unless the governor interfered, he would pa.s.s through the door directly below his window. He pictured the group of grave-faced nervous officials, he saw himself bound and blindfolded and helpless in their midst.
His fingers closed convulsively about the iron bars that guarded his window, but the feeling of horror that suddenly seized him was remote from self-pity. He was thinking of Elizabeth. What unspeakable wretchedness he had brought into her life, and he was still to bequeath her this squalid brutal death! It was the crowning shame and misery to the long months of doubt and fearful suspense.
Up from the earth came the scent of living growing things. The leaves of the great maples in the court-house grounds rustled in the spring breeze, there was the soft incessant hum of insect life, and over all the white wonderful moonlight. But he had no part in this universal renewal--he was to die his purposeless unheroic death in the morning.
For himself he could almost believe he no longer cared; he had fully accepted the idea. He had even taken his farewell of the few in Mount Hope who had held steadfast in their friendship, and there only remained for him to die decently; to meet the inevitable with whatever courage there was in his soul.
He heard Brockett's familar step and suddenly, intent and listening, he faced the door; but the deputy came slowly down the corridor and as he entered the cell, paused, and shook his head.
"No word yet, John," he said regretfully.
"Is the train in?" asked North.
"Yes, Conklin went down to meet it. He's just back; I guess they'll come on the ten-thirty."
North again turned listlessly toward the window.
"I wouldn't own myself beat yet, John!" said the deputy.
"I've gone down at every crisis! I didn't think the grand jury would indict me, I didn't think I would be convicted at the trial!" He made a weary gesture. "What right have I to think they will be able to influence the governor?"
There was a moment's silence broken by the deputy.
"I'll be outside, and if you want anything, let me know."
It was the death-watch, and poor Brockett was to keep it.
North fell to pacing his narrow bounds. Without, the wind had risen and presently there came the patter of rain on the roof. Thick darkness again enveloped the jail yard; and the gallows--his gallows--was no longer visible. For an hour or more the storm raged and then it pa.s.sed as swiftly as it had gathered. Once more he became aware of the incessant hum of the insect world, and the rustling of the great maples in the court-house grounds.
As he listened to these sounds, from somewhere off in the distance he heard the shriek of an engine's whistle. They were coming now if they came at all! In spite of himself, his hope revived. To believe that they had failed was out of the question, and the beat of his pulse and the throb of his heart quickened.
He endured twenty minutes of suspense, then he heard voices; Brockett threw open the door, and Elizabeth, white-faced and shaking, was before him.
"John!" she cried, with such anguish that in one terrible instant all hope went from him.
His soul seemed to stand naked at the very gates of death, and the vision of his brutal ending came before his burning eyes. Words of protest trembled on his lips. This endured but for an imperceptible s.p.a.ce of time, and then that larger pity which was not for himself but for Elizabeth, took him quickly to her side.
"John--" she cried again, and held out her arms.
"Do not speak--I know," he said.
Her head drooped on his shoulder, and her strength seemed to forsake her.
"I know, dear!" he repeated.
"We could do nothing!" she gasped.
"You have done everything that love and devotion could do!"
She looked up into his face.
"You are not afraid?" she whispered, clinging to him.
"I think not," he said simply.
"You are very brave, John--I shall try to be brave, also."
"My dear, dear Elizabeth!" he murmured sadly, and they were silent.
Without, in the corridor, an occasional whispered word pa.s.sed between General Herbert and the deputy.