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THE MIDNIGH'

BY AMANDA

Author ot SYDNIE ADRIANCE; IN THE RANKS; THE OLD WOMAN WHO

STREET « SMITH { Nos. 27, 29, 31 Rose St.,
7. P. 0. Box 4896, New York.

 

Enterea According to Act of Congress, in the Year 1814, by Street & Smi

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

Librarian of Coneress, Was

NEW YORK, DEGEMBER 28, 1874,

ih. in the Ofloe of the

 

 

   
  

De &

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three Dollars Per Year. { FRANCIS S. STREET,
Two Copies Five Dollars.

FRANCIS S. SMITH.

No. 8.

ARRIAGE.

DOUGLAS,

VED IN A SHOE; [|KATHIE’S SUMMER AT CEDARWOOD; CLAUDIA, etc.
i ryt Hat

ONALD'S STORY.

 

 

PART L--DOCTOR MACD

CHAPTER I.
A MARRIAGE AND A MYSTERY.

It was 2 bitter, blustering, sleety March night, and
Ihad just bidden my friend Louis Bartholdy fare-
well and turned to my sleepy grate fire. A young
doctor, twenty odd years ago, waiting for a practice
that came so slowly, it was no wonder that I some-
times felt discouraged. I had studied hard, passed
an unusually brilliant examination, and taken a front
basement in a quiet, aristocratic neighborhood. I
had some money then, but it was rapidly drawing to
aclose. During the six months that I had been here
I had taken in about forty dollars, and half-a-dozen
bills were ready for collection.

Mrs. Warren>my landlady, was verging on to fifty,
a sensible, motherly-looking woman, with a low,
pleasant voice. And here I will confess that voices
always had a curious effect upon me, and frequently
biased my decision for or against. a person. I had
been strongly attractedtoward her. My own mother
had died in my infancy, and I had no sister or inti-
mate female friends. But it seemed that one might
go to her in an enfergency and be sure of sympathy
and comfort.

She was in rather straitened circumstances. Two
rooms on the second fioor were rented to a gentle-
man and his wife, and as he held a traveling agency
of some kind, they were away much of the time. A

poor relative, apparently of her own bntx00
hearty so-well power Ved asststed “her ithe

: r house-
hold duties for the sake of a comfortable home. So
we had a very quiet house as you may imagine, or-
thodox and respectable. eed

In those days I was strongly scientific. Every
year mysteries in medical experience are cleared up,
facts established that refute and overthrow old theo-
ries, and by degrees we come to golid truth. Asa
student I had been very fond of pu alos cases. Now
and thenI wrote an article that was laughed at in
certain quarters for its crudeness, and yet in others
received with approbation. om

Louis Bartholdy was a young physician with much
the same tastes. Of mixed German and Italian
origin, educated in his own country for a chemist,
an th a sort of half-belief in diablerie and those
monstrous old tales of the middle ages. Six years
my senior, he appeared fully as young, and was ex-
ceedingly handsome in that soft, winning, I had al-
most said languishing style, common to people under
Italian skies. But that was only in his face, the
silky, purplish hair, the large, deep eyes that could
fiash with fire or melt with tenderness, and the
sweet mouth, whose ripeness and bewitching curves
were never wholly hidden by the line of shady mus-
tache.

AsI said, [had just bidden him good-night, as he
had another engagement at nine. Coming back to
my sleepy fire, my mind also reverted to my former
subject of meditation—my fast-approaching poverty.
Latterly I had been trying hard to. economize, but
when I paid my rent, which I usually did in advance,
I would have just ten dollarsleft. Of course I could
porrow of Louis, but I hated that method.

I felt rather blue, I must confess. If I could only
et along until summer, when expenses would be
ight.

“A sudden and violent pull at my’ bell startled me.
So far I had not found a night summons very profit-
able. I shrugged my shoulders, contracted my
brows ominously, and .opened the door with a stern
inquiry on my lips. :

Before it could be uttered, a tall man, enveloped
from head to foot—I was’ going to say in a shaggy
white coat—pushed his way through the hall into my
office, guided probably by the light. ,

I shut out the bitter blast and followed, feeling
rather curious as to the nature of his demand.

‘Doctor,” he began in a quick, peculiar voice, that
had a faint strand of huskiness in it, ‘thave you any
powerful stimulants that might keep a person alive
a few hours, who was in the very grasp of death!”

I tried to study the face, but what with the coat
collar, a flowing beard, and a cap crushed down over
the forehead, I saw only a Grecian nose and flashing
eyes of some dark color.

‘What is the disease?” I asked gravely.

‘Consumption as much as anything.

Then he eyed me sharply, as if taking mental and
physical measure.

“Can you do it?” impatiently.

“Do you mean me to give you the remedy?”

“Tf you could be sure——”

“T cannot,” I replied. ‘Different remedies may be
needed.”

‘““Then you had better come.”

I kicked off my slippers and stepped into my boots.
This man gave me the strangest and most uncom-
fortable feeling that I had ever experienced.

‘*Where is it?” I asked briefly.

"I have a carriage here at the door and will take
ou.

» I gathered my most powerful stimulants and slipped
them into a case, and followed him, locking my door
behind me. The carriage stood two doors farther
down the street. . :

We entered and were driven rapidly away, It was
some moments before I could collect my scattered
senses. I had no perception of fear, and yet I felt
there was something peculiar about the case. Iwas
rather hasty at conclusions, and I thought I could
solve the mystery easily when I came to it.

“Has the person been ill long?” I asked.

“Some six or eight months—after the fashion of
consumptives; and that disease, you know, flatters
to the very last.” .

“In that case,” I said, following out my own train
of thonght, ‘‘a person should attend to such neces-
sary matters as the making of wills and any legal
business.”

“Yes,” ina dry, uncommunicative tone.
is not always possible.”

The carriage jolted hard over the rough street. It
was 80 dark that I could distinguish nothing, though
I fancied there was hardly a locality in How York
entirely unknown to me.

When we alighted I took out my watch and found
that we had ridden just fifteen minutes, though it
seemed at least halffan hour.

There was a row of houses very much alike. The

“But it

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“OH, IF I COULD ONLY LIVE!

-_
. J

 

 

     

 

————

IT 18 80 HARD TO DIEY

 

 

one we entered stood about in the middle ofthe
block, as near as I could judge. Iwas ushered into
a handsome but rather old-fashioned room, and my
guide said hurriedly:

‘‘Excuse me for a moment.
arrival.”

I fancied my patient @n elderly gentleman, and
perhaps this tall, stylish young fellow was a rather
wayward son, who had been taken into grace at the
eleventh hour. Icould make no remarkable cure,
but I was selfish enough to think of a generous fee.

An astrallamp burned dimly on the center table.
Overhead I heard hurried steps. There was some-
thing weird and out of the common order of things
ingthis affair—of that I felt assured.

e guide returned presently, divested of cap and
coat. A handsome and yet evil-looking man—the
kind of person who makes you feel as if a keen blast
had nipped you in some sensitive spot, I would have
shivered, but absolute fear restrained me.

“T must make'a few explanations,” he began.
‘Your patient is a young lady, and it is most neces-
sary that she should be kept alive until midnight. It
fe her wish, Heaven, grant that it may not be too
ate!

There was an intense anxiety in look and voice. I
started with surprise and stammered:

I will announce your

“tA lady!”
‘ “Yes!” in an impatient tone. ‘Oh, doctor, try!
ry!

With that Iwas led up stairs. The light in the
hall was very dim, also, I remarked.

The room into which I was ushered was pervaded
with a faint, subtle fragrance. Large, with a carpet
that felt like:down to the feet; flowing curtains of
lace, pictures, and two or three statues, but other-
wise with the usual appointments of a sleeping
room, though these were of the most elegant order.

With my senses sharpened into an almost electric
state I noted everything at a glance. On one end of
the mantel stood an exquisite bust of Proserpine, on
the other that ever lovely Clytie. The air was so
heavy that it stifled me, and I seemed like one in a
dream. .

Isaw first of all a beautiful woman standing at
the side of the bed. Tall, elegantly formed, with
those graceful, willowly movements so enchanting
to the eye. Her hair was as black as midnight, her
complexion pale and clear, reminding ve of fine
bronze, relieved by brilliant scarlet lips and a
peculiar flush on the cheek. She was too beautiful!
She filled the room with a sense of oppression like
the perfume of some Oriental exotics that I have oc-
casionally met with, from which you could extract
deadly poisons. Unconsciously she took me back to
the days of sorcery, and witchcraft, and stories of
weird Eastern superstitions.

‘‘Here is your patient,” announced my guide.

I came slowly out of my reverie, that seemed half
a lifetime, and glanced toward the bed.

“I fear it is too late,” I exclaimed, with a sudden
spasm of chill apprehension.

She lay there on the bed, calm, lovely, angel-like.
Clouds of golden hair floated over the pillow. The
waxen eyelids drooped, their long fringe shading
the cheek, the. pure sweet mouth crossed witha
heavenly smile, the little hands lying listlessly over
the sheet, like carven alabaster,

 

“She is still alive,” said the watcher, studying me
intently.

I drew a strange, bewildered breath. What mys-
tery surrounded them all ?

“You must restore her to consciousness, if it is
only for ten minutes,” said the man. ‘Oh, Heaven!
to lose——”

The deep. eyes gave him a sudden, sharp glance—
a hint of warning, it appeared to me.

““We read an odd article of yours on catalepsy,” he
resumed, facing me; ‘'and it gave us hope.”

“She has had such sinking spells before,” said the
woman. ‘Her heart beats—she is not dead.”

‘“How long has this lasted 2?” I asked.

“Our family physician left us at six, and said she

gould not live beyond morning. She has been faint.

and sinking ever since. Butif you could keep her
alive until midnight, and restore her toa few minutes
of consciousness. She wished it so much. It is her
last prayer.” —

What a wonderful voice the woman had. Slow,
subtle and melodious, searching out every nerve and
thrilling it with mesmeric power.

And yet it was not one of sympathy and tender
grief. That she had some deep, underlying inter-
est at stake, one could see, but it was not the life
of this fair young girl. The mystery began to ex-
cite me.

I approached my patient and made a hasty exam-
ination. She certainly was not dead, but I was puz-
zled to find any clew to her present state, as it had
few marks of ordinary catalepsy.

They were both watching me breathlessly. I felt
the gleam of the dark and steely eyes like a sudden
flash of red heat along every nerve.

‘*You said she had been ill for some time.”

He signed to the woman to speak.

“‘T suppose she inherited consumption. She has
always been fragile, and the winter has told upon
her fearfully.”

‘‘Had she a cough?”

“A slight one. A continual hectic fever, loss of
appetite and strength, anda gradual wasting away.”

‘“What physician have you had ?” *

“This is spending precious moments for nought!”
the man interposed, almost angrily. ‘Restore her

ifyou can. We had placed great faith in you.”

mething in the peculiar intonation roused me.

“Open the window,” Lordered. ‘The air is stif-
ling! and take away that vase of heliotrope.”

It was luxuriantly grown and a mass of blos-
soms, standing quite high in a beautifully-carved
marble vase.

Both orders were obeyed.

Then I proceeded to a more minute examination,
bathing her face, chauging her position, and forcing
a few drops of powertul stimulant through her lips.
It had no effect whatever upon her.

‘Can it be done?” he asked, under his breath.
“Oh, doctor, don’t say no.”

His voice was full of some deep feeling, but I could
not decide what it was that swayed him the most
powerfully.

I begged him to retire. Then we went to work in
good earnest. I had her bathed andrubbed. I tried
restoratives and stimulants, but all in vain, it ap-
peared. The silvery chimes of the French clock on
the mantel told out eleven,

 

“Oh, doctor, try, try!” she urged. “For his sake!
for her sake! They were to be married. There isa
large fortune at stake, which will go to connections
that she did not like, if she should die unmar-
ried. She loved him passionately—she wants it to
be his.”

‘Why were they not married before!” I asked in
the utmost amazement.

‘She could not marry untilshe was eighteen. To-
day is her birth-day, but her uncle insists that she
was born in the evening. Oh, doctor!”

She wrung her white hands in despair. The slen-
der fingers interlaced each other, and I seemed ac-
tually to enter into her feelings and desire the end
” which she prayed. But how was it to be brought
about? :

This was not the result of any disease that I had
ever known. She would breathe faintly, open her
eyes, or rather roll the balls uneasily as a person
does in illness, and then relapse into her former
state. Every few moments her lover looked in at
the door, his face growing pale with anxiety.

‘Is her guardian any connection?” I asked in one
of our pauses.

“Her uncle.
son.”

I began to have a vague perception of the matter.
Her uncle would not be anxious for her to live, and
ner eg was, ofcourse. There was something back
of it all. a

A stirin the hall roused us. My companion be-
came ashen pale.

el had taken the precaution to turn the key, but
foiled here, the person went round to the next room.
i heard voices in angry discussion, and one I recog-
nized as that of my guide.

“She is dead. Of what wse is all this mummery!”
; “She is not rigid, and there are some signs of

ife.”

“It is false, I say !

“Alarm then.”
oath.

The door opened. ,

“Doctor,” said my guide in that most peculiar
tone, ‘is your patient dead ?”

‘She is not,” I answered, clearly.

“There, you hear!. I shall stand by her until her
body is cold and stark, whetherI am ever husband
or not.”

What could Ido? Iwas almost wild. I fancied
the sweet, pale face put on an imploring look, and I
redoubled my energies. .

The property will go to him and his

I will alarm the street!”
The smothered sound was like an

“it up to the light.

What if this girl’s. death should be the result of my
experiment ?

it seemed asifshe must die in any event. A a
was creeping slowly over her. A sinking in the
lines about the mouth, and greenish tints stealing’
up the soft, white temples. The eyelids grew a trifle
more rigid, and the long fringe appeared as if set in
wax, instead of flesh. IfI could send for Bartholdy)
—but no, I:must act immediately. Great drops of
perspiration came out on my forehead, and it was 2
moment of the most intense. agony that I had ever

nown.

I lifted the tiny vial out of its velvet bed and held
The clear amber liquid sparkled
as if ithad been. charged, with grains of gold. I
dropped a little in a wine glass and added some wa-
ter, then: literally poured’a teaspoonful down my
patient's throat. It was a moment of sickening
anxiety.

All this time that: weird, wonderful woman was
watching me with glittering eyes. She stood now,
leaning her elbow on the corner of ‘the mantel, her
loose sleeve falling back and displaying an arm
worthy of some famous old sculptor. er dress was
a light’crimson, soft, heavy, and trailing around her
feet. I declare to you that I felt almost afraid of
being charmed or mesmerized.

Thardly took my‘eyes off “ patient, and yet I
Saw everything inthe room. One of those curious:
states of distinct consciousness that occur in times.

‘}ofgreat izentsl anxiety. My fingers were on my

was sure that I felt

+} pationt(reiseand presently
a tremor ‘fasking t <: eee EL as if

startled by electricity. E administered my remedy

- again, and found, after an interval, still ‘stronger
; Signs of returning animation.

Could it be possible ? The drooping lids quivered,.
the carven lips twitched, and a faint flush disturbed:
the deathly pallor. ;

Oh?’ her attendant said, “you will bring-her back;
to life. What did you give her ?”

She uttered this last in a‘sharp tone of command..

“That is my business,” I reptied, rather haughtily.

She turned on me the glance of a tigress or a
fiend. Just an instant, and then she was herown:
bewildering self, affluent in e and beauty.

‘*Pardon me. Will she live? Can she live?”

“That depends on circumstances,” I said, slowly.
For the life of me I could not tell which she most
desired.

I gave her a third portion. The pulse grew
stronger. Her heart beat in wild, irregular bounds,
and there was every sign of returning animation.
She opened her eyes slowly.

“Harold!” exclaimed the
**She will live.” f

He took a step within the room. The dreamy
eyes must have caught the vision, for a soft sigh es-
caped the lips.

‘Not too near!” and I held up my hand warningly..

“Oh, doctor, Heaven bless you! To hear her speak.
once again.” ;

I was growing interested in Harold’s behalf.
Though he was personally repellent to me, 1f her
happiness was centered in him that was sufficient.

She sighed again, and the eyes moved restlessly.,
A strange, frightened look rose in their depths.

“You are better,” I said, reassuringly. ‘It was.a
very severe fainting fit.” :

‘*Raise me,” the weak voice whispered.

I touched the soft, silken hair with my fingers:as
I rearranged the pillow. How exceedingly lovely it
was.

She glanced about dreamily, and a smile parted
her lips.

“Harold!”

He leaned over the edge of the bed and covered
the hands with kisses. The next instant she was.
pillowed upon his bosom, uttering a convulsive
little cry.

“Be calm,” I exclaimed in alarm, “or I will not
answer for her safety.”

‘Muriel, darling, rouse and remember what you
ree todo. Itis twelve, and now surely you are

ree.

The clock struck at that instant.

I glanced up at Althea, as I learned afterward was
her name. mething in her face amazed me be-
yond expression. Her hands were tightly clenched,
her lips set together, and her, eyes fixed on the
lovers, clasped in each other’s arms. A look so
fierce and fell that I shivered in terror. She kated
one or both, mortally, and such a woman’s hate was.
not to be lightly despised. “I was stunned with the
oppressive sense of mystery.

‘We were married?” Muriel murmured.

“No, my darling. You fainted, you know. And
your uncle declared that we must wait, but the
clergyman is still here.”

“Oh, it was dreadful! Harold, save me! I am so
young. Ido not want to die.”

‘‘Hush, dear! you will exhaust yourself.”

Then ‘he laid her carefully down.

Tomy mind he was notatrue or ardent lover.
There was something abont him that I could not
fathom. He evidently wanted to marry her, but the
fortune might account for that.

“Doctor, do you consider this girlin the posses-
sion of all her senses, and capable of acting upen
her own responsibility?”

I glanced at Muriel. A beautiful vision indeed
with the pleading eyes and quivering lips.

‘What is your own will and desire?’ f said to her.

‘To marry him. Oh, let it be quick. Iam afraid

”

weird voice, exultantly..

Suddenly something came to mein the midst of ; ——

my despair. A strange story told by Louis Bartholdy,
and a rather curious case of poisoning that had oc-
curred some months before. Withone of his fervent
impulses he hadtaken up the subject of Toxicology,
discovering various subtle poisons and their anti-
dotes. Some of these he had been explaining to me
afew evenings previous, when he had mislaid the
case and accidentally left it. It contained several
powerful tests and antidotes. I had put it in the
breast pocket of my great coat and forgotten to give
it to him.

I had no time to consider whether this was a case
of poisoning or not. It certainly was similar to some
instances that Louis had been describing. I took
out the small leathern case with a strange sensation.

 

 

 

 

I gave her some more medicine.
‘Are you ready, dearest?’ asked Harold.
‘Yeg,??
“Summon them all.’? f
This was to Althea, who left the room. ;
‘You love him?’ I could not forbear saying to Muriel. |
“Love him. Oh, Heaven!’
“And you will bear witness to this, good friend, Muriel,”
interposed Harold, ‘‘that I have used uo arts to gain
ou?,
: Her only answer was a proud smile.
Three men entered the room, following Althea, who
might have been a priestess of high tragedy. First came
the clergyman, a rather meek, deprecating-looking per-
son, who had the appearance of having just been roused
from his nap. A sharp-faced, elderly gentleman, with
keen, restless eyes, thin, compressed lips, and a kind o£