University of Virginia Library

33. CHAPTER XXXIII.
JANET.

Janet was employed in Mrs. Shaw's family to
make herself generally useful. She was now to
serve as an experiment. This line of usefulness
was not in her original compact of service, but
it must be urged in justification of the experimentors
that she was suspected of having volunteered
in a domestic role entirely foreign to
the proper performance of the duties for which
she was engaged.

Mr. Gray had often seen Janet, but he had
never really looked at her. She had appeared to
him as an every-day sort of person, young and
passably pretty, but not in any way designed to
arrest the attention of a well-regulated masculine
mind.

The next day he brought a little more intelligence
to bear upon an examination of the chamber
maid. He discovered a plump, well-developed
person, quiet if not stealthy in movement, a face
remarkable only for the extreme pallor of its
complexion, eyes which withdrew their gaze
when they met other eyes, leaving an impression
that they were extremely reticent eyes,
and might be made useful to their owner on occasion.

As a result of this examination two special policemen
were detailed to exercise the proverbial vigilance
of their profession in the locality of Mrs. Shaw's residence,
especially between the hours of eleven in the
evening and four in the morning.

Leaving the house in this efficient guardianship, Mr.
Gray returned to his hotel.

The specials reported every day, but for eleven days
their report was brief. They had discovered nothing.
Mr. Gray was left to infer that there was nothing to
discover, though the fresh and amiable countenances
of the specials awoke the unworthy suspicion that the
vigilance of his agents were directed to the selfish
pursuits of their own comfort.

Acting under this unworthy suspicion, he intimated
to the efficient guardians of the peace that after two
nights their services would be dispensed with. Mr.
Gray's faith in spirit agencies was rapidly waning,
possibly however because he had placed so much faith
in human agencies.

But the following night, at the dread hour
which spirits are said to prepare for a terrestial ramble,
a knock sounded on Mr. Gray's parlor door.
When the door was opened, one of the vigilant specials
stood in the aperture.

“Got him,” he said. “Safe.”

Mr. Gray took his hat, overcoat and pistol, and the
two proceeded toward the residence of Mrs. Shaw.
On the way Mr. Gray was informed that at a quarter
past eleven a man entered the premises through the
rear gate, and had not reappeared at the expiration of
half an hour. One special remained to watch the
premises while the other went to inform Mr. Gray.

Arrived at the place of their destination the waiting
special informed them that the man had not reappeared.
He had been in the house more than an hour.

Mr. Gray had means of entrance without disturbing
the family. Leaving one policeman outside, he entered
the house with the other. The two servants had
separate rooms over the kitchen, which were approached
by staircases both in front and back of the
house.

The two men ascended the back stairs, and Mr.
Gray knocked gently at Janet's door. The knock
called forth no response. He knocked again, still
gently but with more emphasis. The policy of masterly
inactivity still prevailed within the room. He
knocked a third time. A moment after the door was
opened just enough to disclose a pale face and two
shining eyes.

“Dress yourself, Janet.”

The face grew paler, the eyes more shining.

“Don't ask questions. Dress yourself. In ten
minutes I will come again.”

Mr. Gray retired, thinking the nocturnal visitor
might avail himself of the opportunity to make his
escape. He anticipated the nocturnal visitor's movements
correctly. In two minutes Janet's pale face
looked into the ball, and seeing all clear, a dark form
emerged, descending the back stairs, opened the
kitchen door and stepped out to find itself covered by
two pistols in the hands of two vigilant guardians of
the peace.

The man threw up his hands in sign of surrender.
The policemen took him in charge. Mr. Gray again
ascended to Janet's door, and gently knocked. The
door was opened promptly and Janet, dressed as
usual, stood before him.”

“I beg you will excuse me for disturbing you,” he
said, in his mildest tone; “it was a false alarm.”

Janet looked at him a second, and then her eyes
dropped, and a blush overspread her face.”

“Don't be frightened, Janet. There is no danger
whatever. You need not tell Mrs. or Miss Shaw to-morrow
that I was here to-night.”

The girl regarded him half defiantly, yet with an appealing
look in the depths of her eyes. The young
man again assured her she had nothing to fear. Thou
her regard became softer. Her eyes dropped, and
rested a moment on a neat foot that protruded from
beneath her dark dress. Then the eyelids raised slowly,
and the pretty chambermaid stole an upward glance
at the face of her judge.

“I want to see you to-morrow, Janet,” he said.
“Can you call at the office at four?”

She smiled now and blushed. In her mind the result
of an interview that seemed so threatening was
not unnatural. One offense might be condoned by
another.

Mr. Gray understood very well that if Janet had
ever regarded him as a man of unapproachable morals,
he was sinking rapidly in her estimation. It was better,
however, for his purpose that the girl should arrive
at a conclusion only partially justified by what
had occurred. There would be a chance to retrieve
himself on the morrow.

Bidding Janet “good-night” in a tone that greatly
relieved her apprehensions, Mr. Gray descended to the

street. He found the two policemen holding in a close
if not affectionate embrace a brawny fellow, quite as
well adapted to the service of Mars as that of Venus.
He had the limbs of a young Hercules, the face of a
Satyr. Faith in spirits was again in the ascendant.
The distinction such a fellow would make between
opening a door to burglars and opening a tender
maiden's jugular vein would be one of price.

The young Hercules was walked down to Mr. Gray's
office between his captiors. The gas was lighted, the
young fellow introduced into the lawyer's private office,
the two policemen standing guard outside the
door.

Mr. Gray invited his visitor to a seat. The former
was not a timid man, but his proverbial equanimity
was sustained somewhat on this occasion by the knowledge
that payment had not been made to his auxiliaries
for the service already rendered. The system of tactics
would unquestionably insure their aid in an emergency.

“Seems to me yer're making a mighty fuss about
nothing,” muttered Hercules. “'Spect I ain't the
first fellow that has been caught sparking a pretty
girl.”

“Is your memory of dates pretty good, Jake?”
asked the lawyer, quietly.

“How d'ye know my name's Jake?” asked the fellow,
with a little apprehension in his eyes.

“You are here to answer questions, not to ask them.
Is your memory of dates pretty good?”

“Yes, from fair to middling. Don't keep a di'ry.”

“You can tell, perhaps, on what evenings in the
past month you called to see your friend Janet.”

“I put it to you as a gentleman,” said Jake, with an
injured air, “if you ought to take an advantage of
circumstances to ask sich questions.”

“Please to answer as correctly as possible. It may
stimulate your memory, perhaps, if you know that I
have a little memorandum before me, and that it will
be much to your advantage if your recollection tallies
with that memorandum.”

“Recken I've dropped in once a week or there-abouts.”

To-day is the fourteenth of May. What was the
date of your last previous visit?”

“Don't remember exactly. P'r'aps a week ago.”

“If you cannot remember dates with more precision,
I have nothing more to say to you. The gentlemen
outside will conduct you to the office of the
Chief of Police.”

“Don't be hard on a feller, Mr. Gray. Yer're a
young man yourself.”

“I believe I am not the party under arrest.”

“What for do yer want to scare a fellow for?
'Ta'nt a San Quentin affair, no how.”

“You are mistaken in that, Jake. It is a San Quentin
affair.”

The air of assurance the young fellow had assumed
was tempered somewhat by this opinion, which, coming
from a lawyer, might be regarded as at least semi-legal.”

“Suppose'n I remember dates, what then?” he
asked.

“In that case, if you remember correctly, and give
a faithful account of events which took place on one
of these nights—events which will not compromise
your friend more than she is already compromised—
you will have my influence exerted in your behalf instead
of against you. It will probably make a difference
of three years in your residence at San Quentin.”

“Won't split on anybody, unless I'm off scot free,”
said Jake doggedly.

Mr. Gray touched a bell, and one of the policemen
opened the door.

“Conduct this young man to the Chief's office.”

Jake sprang to his feet and seemed to calculate the
chances of an encounter. They were three to one,
and they had pistols.

“Yer damned rough on a feller,” he muttered.
“What do you want to know, anyhow?”

“I have asked you what I want to know.”

“Well, send that mousing cop out of the room.”

The lawyer made a sign and the officer retired.

“I have nothing to do with your love affairs, Jake.
I don't want to know in what part of the house you
were, but on what nights. Make haste, now, for it is
past my usual hour for retiring.”

Jake gave five dates, but neither of them was the
night of the disappearance of Mliss.

“You have not answered correctly, Jake. You
were there on the twenty-first of April.”

The observant eye of the lawyer detected a change
in the ruffian's face. At this moment he more than
half believed in spirits.

“I don't think I was,” he muttered.

“I know you were. On that night the doors of Mrs.
Shaw's house were opened to two ruffians who carried
off a young girl who happened to be my ward.”

“That cock won't fight, Mr. Gray. Everybody says
you carried off the girl, 'cause things wasn't handy at
Shaw's house, and now you want to fasten it on me.”

“I've heard all I want from you, Jake. You mus
go to prison, and I'll do my utmost to keep you in secure
retirement for the next ten years.”

“If you do I'll kill you afore I've been out a week.”

“Two or three others who will be out before you
have sworn to do the same thing.”

“Tell yer what, Mr. Gray, we'd better not go agin
one another. You might miss, and then yer wouldn't
have much time for prayers. If yer'll let up on me
I'll tell yer in confidence, 'cause you can't use what I
say as evidence against me.”

“That's true, Jake. But I know who bribed you to
open the doors. I know who the parties are and
where to find one of them. I know, too, that this
man is an arrant coward. I'll tell you in confidence
that one of the names he is known by is Waters.”

“'Spect yer knows all about it then,” said Jake,
coolly. “Don't know how yer found it out. Janet
didn't know.”

“I know she didn't. Janet was rather imprudent
than guilty.”

“Well, since yer knows so much there's no use in
keeping a close mouth. I did open the door, but
Waters swore he didn't mean to harm the girl. He
said you were keeping her for yourself.”

“And he gave you a nice little sum to believe in his
lies. If you had thought of it you'd have found me a
more liberal paymaster than he.”

“P'raps I would. Couldn't count on that. Think of
you next time.”

“Do so. You are free.”

Jake opened his small eyes in astonishment.

“You are free,” repeated Mr. Gray. “If you are
wise you will be of more use to me outside a prison
than in.”

“Well, you are a gentleman, after all. Hope you
won't be hard on Janet.”

“Janet will probably find some more congenial
place of service. If you have any regard for her, or
any desire to retain a place in her affections, you will
say nothing of the events of this night.”

“Reckon I won't. Isn't anything to blow about—
for me.”

Mr. Gray gave the order for Jake to go free, paid the
officers for their services, and returned to his hotel.
For some bours his faith in spirits was strong.

The next morning, however, doubts arose in his
mind. Might it not be a preconcerted plan? Might
not Mrs. Rhodes have obtained by some means the information
which purported to come from the other
world. The appearance and conversation of that lady
were all in her favor, but the keenest physiognomist
and best judges of character are sometimes deceived.
On the witness stand he would have beheved Mrs.
Rhodes implicitly, no matter how strange or how
much at variance with supposed facts her testimony
might be. But to believe it in broad daylight, and
most of all, in the atmosphere of a court room, was a
demand on his credulity he was not yet quite prepared
to honor.

He determined not to confide his discovery to Miss
Shaw. The subject was not a pleasant one to discuss
with a young lady, involving as it did a degree of
criminality on the part of her own attendant. He
would wait and see what came of it.

Janet kept her appointment. Janet entered smiling
and serene. Janet was dressed becomingly, almost
elegantly, and looked as she felt, a lady. Janet's
shapely hands were nicely gloved, and Janet's round
wrists were clasped by gold bracelets. Janet's conscience
was at ease. It was a worldly conscience and
spoke most emphatically when inspired by fear of detection.
Janet's face was touched with rouge and
Janet's hair fell in shining curls down Janet's back.

By license of speech we may say that Mr. Gray took
the girl in at a glance. He felt inclined to smile, but
restrained the inclination.

“Sit here, close by me. Our talk will be of a confidential
nature.

Janet adjusted herself in a chair in her most graceful
attitude. One plump hand resting on the arm
would have tempted a young man of a grasping disposition
to take it in soft and close imprisonment.

If Mr. Gray experienced an inclination of this nature,
he suppressed it also.

“You are not angry with me for disturbing you last
night, Janet?”

“O no, sir,” replied the girl, letting her eyes fall to
the carpet.

“I am glad you are not. I don't wish to injure you
in the least. But don't you think you were a little
imprudent?”

Janet's silence might fairly be construed into an ad
mission that she was not averse to imprudence on
general principles.

“I shall not lecture you, Janet. Saints don't flourish
in these days. In fact, there is little encouragement
to be good. Having settled with the past, let us
talk of the future.”

Janet made no answer, but her face indicated that
she was listening.

“If you allow me to advise you,” Mr. Gray continued,
“you will return home and inform Mrs.
Shaw that some private business which you need not
mention requires so much of your time that you
could not well perform the duties of your present
position. Mrs. Shaw will regret to part with you, but
you will be firm. A week's notice will be sufficient.”

Janet gracefully inclined her head in assent.

“During that week you will abstain from interviews
of a tender nature with your friend. Can you promise
that?” Janet promised.

“You will have a week in which to make arrangements
for the future. You think that sufficient?”

“But where shall I go when the week is up,” asked
Janet.

“I would not pressume to advise you in regard to
your future movements. If you wish to continue in
service, Mrs. Shaw will speak of you precisely as if
nothing had happened. In fact, as far as Mrs. Shaw
is concerned, nothing has happened.”

Janet rose, pale, furious, but calm. The interview
did not terminate as she had anticipated. The idea
was slowly dawning upon her mind that Mr. Gray had
been amusing himself at her expense.

“You are very, very kind,” she said, with a tinge of
sarcasm in her voice and a little temper in her eye.

“Pray don't speak of it. I have only done for you
what we all on occasion need to do for each other.”

If Janet had been a bright girl she would have withdrawn
without more words. But she was not bright
and was not used to men of Mr. Gray's calibre. So
she hesitated, drawing figures with her parasol on the
carpet.

“Is this all you have to say to me?” she asked at
last.

“I believe so. I expected you would reproach me
for saying too much.”

“You drive me out of my home and do not offer me
another. What am I to do?”

“I regret to say, Janet, that this question occurs
to you rather late. I will also venture the remark that
if you were speaking to Mrs. Shaw, instead of to me,
you would not expect her to provide you with a home
even for a week.”

Janet rose. The young man had not touched the tip
of her finger. He had not spoken tenderly in the
least. It was now evident that he did not care what
became of her. It was the way with these men. They
had no heart.

Janet returned very despondent.

“Well,” thought Mr. Gray, “if I have made a
friend of Jake, I have made an enemy of Lady Janet.
But the girl is simply a fool.”