CHAPTER XXIV.
A STRAND OF RUDDY HAIR
At early daylight the next morning a servant tapped at Edmund Clarke's door with a message from Doctor Jay.
He found himself quite ill this morning, and must go home at once. Would Mr. Clarke grant him a few parting words?
Mr. Clarke was up and dressed. He had just said good-by to his wife and Roma, who had taken an early train to Boston.
He went at once to Doctor Jay's room, finding him seated by the window, looking ill and aged from a bad night.
"Good morning, my dear old friend. You look ill, and I fear you have not rested well."
"No; my night was troubled by ghastly dreams. I could scarcely wait till morning to bid you good-by."
"I am very sorry for this, for I had counted on a pleasant day with you. My wife and Roma are gone to Boston for the day, leaving their regrets for you, and kindly wishes to find you here on their return."
The doctor started with surprise, exclaiming:
"It must have been an unexpected trip."
Edmund Clarke then explained about Roma's midnight sufferings from toothache, necessitating a visit to her dentist.
"My wife would not have left me, but she felt sure I should not be lonely, having you for company," he added regretfully.
"My dear friend, I should like to remain with you, and, rather than disappoint you, I will wait until the late afternoon train; but—all my friendship for you could not tempt me to spend another night at Cliffdene!"
"You amaze me, doctor! This is very strange! Why do you look so pale and strange? Why did you spend so uncomfortable a night, when I tried to surround you with every comfort?"
"You did, my dear friend, and every luxury besides—even a key to my door, which I forgot to use," returned Doctor Jay, so significantly that Edmund Clarke reddened, exclaiming:
"It is not possible you have been robbed! I believe that all my servants are honest!"
He thought that the old physician must be losing his senses when he answered, with terrible gravity:
"Nevertheless, I was nearly robbed of my life last night!"
"Great heavens!"
Doctor Jay's brow was beaded with damp as he loosened his cravat and collar, and pointed to his bared neck.
Edmund Clarke leaned forward, and saw on the old man's throat some dark purple discolorations, like finger prints.
"Have you in your household any persons subject to vicious aberrations of mind?" demanded Doctor Jay.
"No one!" answered his startled host, and he was astounded when his guest replied:
"Nevertheless, a fiend in human form entered this room last night under cover of the darkness and attempted to murder me by vicious strangling!"
"Heavens! Is this so?"
"You have the evidence!" exclaimed the physician, pointing to his bared throat with the print of the strangler's fingers.
"This is most mysterious!" ejaculated Edmund Clarke, in wonder and distress, while the physician continued:
"Last night I retired and slept soundly until after midnight, when I was aroused by the horrible sensation of steely fingers gripping my throat with deadly force. Vainly gasping for my failing breath, I struggled with the intruder, who held on with a maniacal strength, panting with fury as I clutched in my arms a form that I immediately knew to be that of a woman, soft, warm, palpitating, though her strength was certainly equal to that of a man. We grappled in a terrible struggle, and I clutched my fingers in her long hair, causing her such pain that, with a stifled moan, she released my throat, struck me in the face, and fled before I could regain my senses, that deserted me at the critical moment."
"This is most mysterious, most shocking! No wonder you are anxious to leave Cliffdene, where you so nearly met your death. But this must be sifted to the bottom at once, and the lunatic identified, for it could be no other than a lunatic. I will have the whole household summoned. We will question every servant closely!" cried Clarke eagerly, turning to ring the bell.
But Doctor Jay stopped him, saying:
"Wait till I question you on the subject. Have you in your employ a woman with red hair?"
"What a question! But, no. My women servants are all gray-haired or black-haired, with one exception. That is Roma's maid, a pretty little blonde, with the palest flaxen curls."
He looked inquiringly at the doctor, who replied:
"After my struggle was over and I was able to light a lamp, I found entangled in my fingers some threads of hair—beautiful long strands of ruddy hair, copperish red in the full light."
He took an envelope from his breast, and drew from it a ruddy strand of long hair, holding it up to the light of the window, where it shone with a rich copper tint.
"My God!" groaned Edmund Clarke.
"You recognize the hair?" cried Doctor Jay.
"It is Roma's hair!" was the anguished answer.
"I thought so!"
"You thought so! Is the girl, then, a lunatic, or a fiend? And what motive could she have to take your life—an old man, who has never harmed her in his blameless life?" cried the host, in consternation.
Edmund Clarke had never been confronted with such a terrible problem of crime in his life. His face paled to an ashen hue, and his eyes almost glared as he stared helplessly at his friend.
"I have a theory!" cried Doctor Jay.
"What is it?"
"The girl must have overheard our conversation last night."
"Impossible!"
"Why?"
Mr. Clarke revolved the matter silently in his mind for a moment, then answered:
"Well, of course, not impossible, but quite improbable."
"Is there not a curtained alcove or anteroom next the library?"