The House Opposite: A Mystery

“You know, Doctor Fortescue, how I have tried lately to keep everything away from my daughter which could possibly agitate her. However, when she suggested that she would like to walk to the village I gladly acquiesced, never dreaming that on a quiet country road anything could occur to frighten her, nervous as she was. With the exception of last Sunday, this was the first time since her return from New York that she had been willing to go outside the gate; therefore I was especially glad she should have this little change. I offered to accompany her or rather them (for Mr. Norman, of course, joined us), and we all three started off together. When we had gone some distance from the house, Mr. Norman remembered an important letter which he had left on his writing-table and which he was most anxious should catch the mid-day mail. So he turned back to get it. I noticed at the time that May appeared very reluctant to have him go. I even thought that she was on the point of asking him not to leave her, but I was glad to see that she controlled herself, for her horror of being separated from that young man has seemed to me not only silly, but very compromising. So we walked on alone, but very slowly, so that he could easily overtake us. The road was pretty, the day heavenly, and my shaken spirits were lighter than they had been for some time.” Mrs. Derwent paused a moment to wipe her eyes. “Did you happen to notice,” she continued, “that clump of bushes near the bend of the road?”

“Certainly.”

“Well, just as we were passing those I caught sight of a horrid-looking tramp, lying on his back, half hidden by the undergrowth. May was sauntering along swinging her parasol, which she had not opened, as our whole way had lain in the shade. She evidently did not see the fellow, but I watched him get up and follow us on the other side of the bushes. I was a little frightened, but before I could decide what I had better do he had approached May and said something to her which I was unable to catch. It must have been something very dreadful, for she uttered a piercing shriek, and turning on him like a young tigress hit him several times violently over the head with her sunshade. Dropping everything, she fled from the scene. You know the rest.”

The last words were spoken a trifle austerely, and I saw that Mrs. Derwent had not forgotten the position in which she had found her daughter, although she probably considered that that position was entirely due to May’s hysterical condition and that I had been an innocent factor in the situation.

“What became of the tramp?” I inquired, eagerly. “I saw no one following your daughter.”

“He did not do so. I stood for a moment watching her tear down the road, and when again I remembered the man I found he had disappeared.”

“Would you know the fellow, if you saw him again?”

“Certainly! He was an unusually repulsive specimen of his tribe.”

As Mrs. Derwent had failed to recognise him, the man could not have been her son, as I had for a moment feared.

“By the way, Doctor, May is still bent on going to New York.”

“Well, perhaps it is advisable that she should do so.”

“But why?”

“The quiet of the country does not seem to be doing her much good, does it? Let us, therefore, try the excitement of New York, and see what effect that will have. Besides, I am very anxious to have Miss Derwent see some great nerve specialist. I am still a very young practitioner, and I confess her case baffles me.”

“I see that you fear that she is insane!” cried Mrs. Derwent.

“Indeed, I do not,” I assured her, “but I think her nerves are very seriously out of order. If she goes on like this, she will soon be in a bad way. If you wish me to do so, I will find out what specialist I can most easily get hold of, and make arrangements for his seeing your daughter with as little delay as possible.”

“Thank you.”

My time was now almost up, so I asked to see my patient again, so as to assure myself that she was none the worse for her fright.

I found her with her eyes open, staring blankly at the ceiling, and, from time to time, her body would still twitch convulsively. However, she welcomed us with a smile, and her pulse was decidedly stronger. It was a terrible trial to me to see that lovely girl lying there, and to feel that, so far, I had been powerless to help her. I thought that, perhaps, if she talked of her recent adventure it would prevent her brooding over it. So, after sympathising with her in a general way, I asked what the tramp had said to terrify her so much. She shook her head feebly.

“I could not make out what he was saying.”

I glanced upwards, and caught a look of horror on her mother’s face.

“Oh, indeed,” I said; “it was just his sudden appearance which frightened you so much?”

“Yes,” she answered, wearily. “Oh, I wish I could go to New York,” she sighed.

“I have just persuaded your mother to spend a few days there.”

She glanced quickly from one to the other.

“Really?”

Mrs. Derwent nodded a tearful assent.

“And when are we going?” she demanded.

“To-morrow, if you are well enough.”

“Oh! thank you.”

“But what will you do with your guest?”

“Mr. Norman? Oh, he will come, too;” but she had the grace to look apologetic.

Once outside the room, Mrs. Derwent beckoned me into her boudoir.

“Well, Doctor Fortescue,” she exclaimed, “what do you think of that? May turns on a harmless beggar, who has done nothing to annoy her, and beats him! She is not at all ashamed of her behaviour, either.”

“I confess, Mrs. Derwent, I am surprised.”

“Oh, she must be crazy,” wailed the poor lady.

“No, madam—simply hysterical—I am sure of it. Still, this makes me more than ever wishful to have another opinion about her case.”

Before we parted, it had been decided that the choice of suitable rooms should be left to me.

Back again in New York, I went immediately in search of them. I was so difficult to satisfy that it was some time before I selected a suite overlooking the Park, which seemed to me to answer all demands.

May and her mother were not expected till the following afternoon, so I tried to kill the intervening time by making the place look homelike, and I succeeded, I think. Masses of flowers and palms filled every nook, and the newest magazines and books lay on the tables.

I met the ladies at the station, where they parted from Norman, whom I had begun to regard as inevitable. It was, therefore, with a feeling of exultation that I drove alone with them to their hotel.

When May saw the bower I had prepared for her she seemed really pleased, and thanked me very prettily.

I left them, after a few minutes, but not until they had promised to dine with me at a restaurant that evening.

CHAPTER XV

A SUDDEN FLIGHT

ONE of the many things and people which I am sorry to say my new occupation as Squire of Dames had caused me to neglect, was poor Madame Argot. On leaving the Derwents, I determined to call on her at once. To my surprise, I found Mrs. Atkins there before me. The poor Frenchwoman was crying bitterly.

“Look here!” I said, after we had exchanged greetings; “this will never do. My patient must not be allowed to excite herself in this way.”

“Ah, mais monsieur,” she cried, “what vill you? I mus’ veep; zink only; vone veek ago an’ I ’appy voman; now all gone. My ’usban’, ’e mad, and zey zay ’e murderer too, but I zay, No, no.”

Mrs. Atkins patted her hand gently.

“Monsieur Stuah, ’e tell me to go,” she continued, “an’ I don’ know vere; me not speak English vera good, an’ I mus’ go alone vid peoples zat speak no French. Ah, I am a miserable, lonely woman,” she sobbed.

Mrs. Atkins consoled her as best she could, and promised to get her a congenial place. It was a pretty sight to see the dashing little woman in that humble bed-room, and I had never admired her so much. When she got up to leave, I rose also, and, not wishing to pass through Mr. Stuart’s apartments, we left the building by the back way. When we were in the street, Mrs. Atkins started to walk up town.