Ruth Morton had received a fearful shock the evening before, but by the morning she had recovered from the immediate effects of it, although she still felt extremely weak. When Duvall and his little party arrived at the apartment on Fifty-seventh Street, they were received in the library by Mrs. Morton. She greeted both Grace and Duvall cordially, but it was evident, from her manner, that she found the presence of the Norman woman and Miss Ford highly distasteful to her. Duvall drew her to one side, leaving the two women in charge of Leary and Grace. "How is your daughter now, Mrs. Morton?" he asked. "Better, I think." "May I see her for a few moments?" "Yes. She is expecting you. Come this way, please. She is occupying my room at present. She still has a fear of the other one—the one she formerly used." "I see. But she need not have it now. There will be no further trouble." He followed Mrs. Morton into her bedroom. Ruth, looking very haggard and white, was sitting in an easy chair by the window. Duvall was amazed to note how terribly the shock of the night before had affected her. "How do you do, Miss Morton," he said, offering his hand. "I am glad to find you almost yourself The girl looked up with a faint smile. "Thank you, Mr. Duvall. I am much better. I understand that you have found out who has been causing me all this trouble." "I think I have. But before I go ahead I want you to give me a little assistance. Do you think you would know the woman who came to your rooms last night, in case you should see her again?" Miss Morton shuddered. "I—I don't know. I do not think I saw her face. It was all so very sudden——" "Tell me about it," Duvall said. "It may help me to get at the facts. That is, if you feel able to do so." "I think I do. What shall I tell you?" "Just describe, in a few words, what happened." "Well, as you know, I had been feeling rather better yesterday, and had begun to rather laugh at my fears. Mother was with me constantly, and Nora as well, and I began to feel quite cheerful again, especially as I knew that you were making splendid progress and had found the woman who had been writing me. Mother told me that you expected to arrest her before the day was over. She said your wife had been helping you, too. "After dinner Nora, who had been in the hotel all day, asked permission to go out for awhile and mother told her she might go. The poor girl had been almost a prisoner since we arrived at the hotel. That was about eight o'clock. "About half past eight a boy came to the room with a card, upon which was written your wife's name, and a note asking if she might see mother for a few moments. We both looked at the card and then mother decided to go down and see her. She instructed me to lock the door while she was out, and of course I did so. "In a few minutes mother came back. She seemed greatly excited, said that she had seen Mrs. Duvall and that you had sent a message to the effect that you had arrested the woman who had been threatening me and wanted mother to come to your hotel at once to appear against her in court. It was necessary, the woman who pretended to be your wife said, that mother should come at once, as otherwise the woman couldn't be held. "We talked the matter over for a few moments and I told her that I thought she ought to go. She seemed rather afraid to leave me alone, but I promised to keep the door locked, and anyway, as I pointed out to her, if the woman was arrested I had nothing further to fear. "At last mother decided she would go, and left me. I locked the door as soon as she went out. "It seemed to me a very few moments before I heard some one rapping. At first I supposed that mother had come back for some reason or other. Then I thought it might be Nora who had said she was only going out for a breath of air. So, suspecting nothing, I unlocked the door and opened it. "A woman came in, very quickly, before I realized it. She was not tall, and rather slight, and I think she had light hair. I couldn't see her face well because she had twisted a black veil across it, hiding her eyes and the upper part of her features. She turned as soon as she got in the room and locked the door. "I was too surprised for a moment to speak, then I asked her what she wanted. "'I want you,' she said in a terrible voice, and I saw that she was taking a bottle from her handbag. "I was so frightened that I could not cry out, although I tried. You see, the warnings I had received had gotten me so worked up that my nerves were all on edge, and as soon as I saw the bottle, I concluded that the woman was about to throw vitriol in my face. So I put my hands to my eyes and ran into the bedroom. "The woman came behind me, saying that my looks would soon be gone, that my days as an actress were over, and other things like that which I scarcely heard I was so frightened. When she got to me she caught hold of my arm and pulled me around, facing her. "I couldn't keep my eyes closed now, for I simply had to see what she was doing. It seemed worse not looking at her, and then I thought I might take the bottle away from her and save myself in that way. So I took my hands from my face and rushed toward her. "Then she raised the bottle and dashed something into my face. "It seemed hot, stinging, and made my eyes burn frightfully. I was sure it was vitriol, and the thought was too much for me I guess, for I felt myself falling and—well, that's all I remember until I woke up and found the doctor and mother there. It was a terrible experience. I could scarcely believe them, when they told me, after I came to, that I wasn't really hurt at all." Duvall looked at the girl's face. It showed no signs of injury, although her eyes were red and inflamed. "Then it wasn't vitriol after all?" he asked, wondering. "No, it apparently wasn't. The doctor said he thought it must have been ammonia." "Remarkable!" Duvall muttered to himself. "Why should she have gone to all that trouble, just to frighten you?" "That's apparently all she intended to do from the start. Do you know, Mr. Duvall, I've been thinking this thing over, and I believe her whole plan from the beginning was merely to ruin me in my work by fear. And I must say that she very nearly succeeded." "Very nearly," said Duvall, with a frown. "If this thing had kept up for another week or two, you would have been a complete nervous wreck." "I am now, I'm afraid," Miss Morton said, sadly. "I don't feel as though I could act again for a long time." "Oh, yes, you will. You have youth, and that is everything. And now, tell me, do you think if you took a look at this woman you might recognize her?" The girl shuddered. "Is she—here?" she asked. "Yes. In the library." "You think it would be quite safe?" "Quite. She can do you no harm while I am here." "Very well. I will see her if you wish it, but I am very much afraid that I shall not be able to identify her." Duvall held out his hand. "Come," he said. "I will take you in." Miss Morton rose, and walking slowly and with considerable effort, went with him into the front room. Standing in the doorway, with the detective beside her, she confronted the two women. They regarded her with stony indifference. "Miss Morton," Duvall said, "do you recognize either of these two women as the one who attacked you in your rooms last night?" The girl gazed helplessly from Miss Ford to her companion and back again. Then she slowly shook her head. "No," she said. "It might have been either of them. They look somewhat alike. But as for saying which one it was, if it was either of them, I'm afraid I can't. The woman was veiled. The room was not brightly lighted. And I was very much frightened." The look of disappointment in Duvall's face was reflected in that of both Grace and Mrs. Morton. The two women, on the contrary, seemed vastly relieved. Miss Norman's mouth curled in rather an ironical smile. "Are you through with this inquisition now?" she asked. "For if you are, my friend and myself would like to continue our journey. You have had no right to bring us here in the first place, and I am strongly considering making a complaint against you for having done so." She grasped firmly the umbrella she had held in her hand all the morning, and turned as though to go. Leary, however, stood before the door. "You apparently have forgotten," Duvall remarked, going toward her, "that I still have a charge against you for attacking my wife." "Very well; make it. I can prove that your wife forcibly entered my apartment under false pretense, saying that she was collecting money for the war sufferers in Poland. If I attacked her, it was in self-defense." "That isn't true," cried Grace. "You sprang at me——" "My word is as good as yours," Miss Norman interrupted. "And my friend here will bear out what I say." She nodded to Miss Ford. "You also," she again faced Duvall, "broke into my apartment without warrant and killed my pet monkey. You will have to answer for that as well. You have accused me of sending threatening letters to this girl here. I defy you to prove it." Duvall, who had been coming nearer the woman all the time, reached out and snatched from her hands the umbrella she held. The others in the room regarded him with astonishment. The woman herself gave a cry of anger, and starting forward tried to recover her lost property. Duvall yielded it to her at once, but not before he had torn from the handle two small round balls covered with knitted silk that hung from it by a heavy silken cord. Miss Norman, seeing what he had done, drew back with a cry of anger. A few incoherent words trailed from her lips. Duvall, paying no attention to her, ripped open one of the silk-meshed coverings and extracted from it a small, round black object about the size of a hickory nut. He gazed at it for a moment, then going quickly to the table in the center of the room brought the thing down smartly upon its surface. There was a crackling sound, and bits of some black substance flew in every direction. A moment later the detective raised in his hand a glittering bit of metal and held it up so that the others might see it. "The death's-head seal," he said, quietly. Miss Norman fell on her knees before Ruth Morton, her hands upraised. "Forgive me—forgive me!" she sobbed. |