The night was quiet, except for the faint sound of distant music now and then, or the mellow laughter of some group of revelers. Ellis met but few pedestrians, but as he neared old Mr. Delamere’s, he saw two men walking in the same direction as his own, on the opposite side of the street. He had observed that they kept at about an equal distance apart, and that the second, from the stealthy manner in which he was making his way, was anxious to keep the first in sight, without disclosing his own presence. This aroused Ellis’s curiosity, which was satisfied in some degree when the man in advance stopped beneath a lamppost and stood for a moment looking across the street, with his face plainly visible in the yellow circle of light. It was a dark face, and Ellis recognized it instantly as that of old Mr. Delamere’s body servant, whose personal appearance had been very vividly impressed upon Ellis at the christening dinner at Major Carteret’s. He had seen Sandy once since, too, at the hotel cakewalk. The negro had a small bundle in his hand, the nature of which Ellis could not make out.
When Sandy had stopped beneath the lamppost, the man who was following him had dodged behind a tree-trunk. When Sandy moved on, Ellis, who had stopped in turn, saw the man in hiding come out and follow Sandy. When this second man came in range of the light, Ellis wondered that there should be two men so much alike. The first of the two had undoubtedly been Sandy. Ellis had recognized the peculiar, old-fashioned coat that Sandy had worn upon the two occasions when he had noticed him. Barring this difference, and the somewhat unsteady gait of the second man, the two were as much alike as twin brothers.
When they had entered Mr. Delamere’s house, one after the other—in the stillness of the night Ellis could perceive that each of them tried to make as little noise as possible—Ellis supposed that they were probably relatives, both employed as servants, or that some younger negro, taking Sandy for a model, was trying to pattern himself after his superior. Why all this mystery, of course he could not imagine, unless the younger man had been out without permission and was trying to avoid the accusing eye of Sandy. Ellis was vaguely conscious that he had seen the other negro somewhere, but he could not for the moment place him—there were so many negroes, nearly three negroes to one white man in the city of Wellington!
The subject, however, while curious, was not important as compared with the thoughts of his sweetheart which drove it from his mind. Clara had been kind to him the night before—whatever her motive, she had been kind, and could not consistently return to her attitude of coldness. With Delamere hopelessly discredited, Ellis hoped to have at least fair play—with fair play, he would take his chances of the outcome.
XX
A Shocking Crime
On Friday morning, when old Mrs. Ochiltree’s cook Dinah went to wake her mistress, she was confronted with a sight that well-nigh blanched her ebony cheek and caused her eyes almost to start from her head with horror. As soon as she could command her trembling limbs sufficiently to make them carry her, she rushed out of the house and down the street, bareheaded, covering in an incredibly short time the few blocks that separated Mrs. Ochiltree’s residence from that of her niece.
She hastened around the house, and finding the back door open and the servants stirring, ran into the house and up the stairs with the familiarity of an old servant, not stopping until she reached the door of Mrs. Carteret’s chamber, at which she knocked in great agitation.
Entering in response to Mrs. Carteret’s invitation, she found the lady, dressed in a simple wrapper, superintending the morning toilet of little Dodie, who was a wakeful child, and insisted upon rising with the birds, for whose music he still showed a great fondness, in spite of his narrow escape while listening to the mockingbird.
“What is it, Dinah?” asked Mrs. Carteret, alarmed at the frightened face of her aunt’s old servitor.
“O my Lawd, Mis’ ’Livy, my Lawd, my Lawd! My legs is trim’lin’ so dat I can’t ha’dly hol’ my han’s stiddy ’nough ter say w’at I got ter say! O Lawd have mussy on us po’ sinners! W’atever is gwine ter happen in dis worl’ er sin an’ sorrer!”
“What in the world is the matter, Dinah?” demanded Mrs. Carteret, whose own excitement had increased with the length of this preamble. “Has anything happened to Aunt Polly?”
“Somebody done broke in de house las’ night, Mis’ ’Livy, an’ kill’ Mis’ Polly, an’ lef’ her layin’ dead on de flo’, in her own blood, wid her cedar chis’ broke’ open, an’ eve’thing scattered roun’ de flo’! O my Lawd, my Lawd, my Lawd, my Lawd!”
Mrs. Carteret was shocked beyond expression. Perhaps the spectacle of Dinah’s unrestrained terror aided her to retain a greater measure of self-control than she might otherwise have been capable of. Giving the nurse some directions in regard to the child, she hastily descended the stairs, and seizing a hat and jacket from the rack in the hall, ran immediately with Dinah to the scene of the tragedy. Before the thought of this violent death all her aunt’s faults faded into insignificance, and only her good qualities were remembered. She had reared
