What Came Afterwards CHAPTER 12.

Ten minutes after one o'clock, on the day after his interview with his stepmother, Edwin Guyton ascended the steps leading to the Union Bank, holding a check of four thousand dollars clenched tightly in his hand. He had many doubts and misgivings in his heart, and glanced about him uneasily. Instead of meeting a prompt payment of his check, might he not encounter an officer? That was in the range of possibilities. More probable than this, he thought, might be the answer — "No funds."

As he entered, a lady swept past him, moving with quick steps. She was in the act of drawing down her veil; but he saw a portion of her face. It was Mrs. Larobe. If she saw him, she had no desire to make recognition of a detested persecutor — of one who had forced on her the bitterest necessity of her life; and that life, in these later years, had not been free from bitter necessities.

Had she made the required deposit? That was still the doubtful query. Edwin was in no state to linger, but moved on with a desperate hope that all was right, and, standing at the counter, presented his check. The teller glanced down at his face, let his eyes dwell upon it for a moment, and then looked across the counter at Edwin, regarding him with apparent scrutiny. Then turning to a book-keeper, he asked a question, and the book-keeper referred to an account on his ledger.

The teller came back, and handing the check to Edwin, said,

"No funds."

"Are you certain?" The young man lingered. "The drawer of this check said that funds to meet it would be on deposit by one o'clock, and it is past that time now."

The teller again reached his hand for the check and stepped to the counter where the receiving teller stood, asked a question, and received, as Edwin saw, an affirmative reply.

"How will you have it?" The teller's hands were over his money drawer.

"In hundred dollar bills," was answered.

Forty bills were counted out. Clutching them with ill-suppressed eagerness, Edwin Guyton left the bank and hurried into the street.

As Mrs. Guyton left the bank, only a few minutes before, she removed the veil which had been drawn quickly, on seeing Edwin, in order to get full draughts of the fresh air, for she felt like one about to suffocate. Slowly she moved up Charles Street, on her way homeward, weak in every limb, the effect of nervous exhaustion. As she came near St. Paul's Church, she saw, on the corner, an old man of such singular appearance, that he was attracting the attention of passengers on the street, some of whom stood still to observe him more narrowly. His dress was meager, worn and incongruous; his hair, of iron gray, was long and uncombed, his face covered with a white beard, that fell down from his chin to a distance of six or seven inches. He stooped considerably; and his garments hung loosely around an emaciated body. The upper part of his face, which could alone be seen, had a pale and sickly hue; but his deep set eyes, looking out of almost bony orbits, had a glitter and fire in them too bright for reason.

Mrs. Larobe had advanced along the pavement to within a few paces of this old man, whose appearance was that of an escaped pauper or lunatic, before he observed her approach. The sound of her footsteps, or the rustle of her garments, reaching his ears, he turned and looked into her face. As their eyes met, the old man gave a startle, moving back a pace or two, and muttering some incoherent ejaculation. Then advancing, he leaned forward, with his wild and fiery eyes fixed eagerly on Mrs. Larobe's face. Frightened at this unexpected encounter with what was evidently an insane man, Mrs. Larobe drew down her veil, and sweeping in a wide circle around him, hurried onward, without glancing back, lest her doing so should lead him to follow her.

He was following, nevertheless; but at so slow a pace, that when Mrs. Larobe reached Franklin Street, and looked back for the first time, he was not visible. Still excited, and inwardly trembling with a vague alarm, she kept on, without checking her speed, until she arrived at home.

Not for a long time had Mrs. Larobe felt so completely unnerved as now. The conviction which, for a year or two, had been haunting her mind, that the foundations of her peace were wholly insecure, and that it was too late in life to commence building again, if the present house fell — was now gaining confirmation. Edwin's visit and imperious demand, which she dared not refuse, though compliance did not remove all fear of the terrible consequences threatened, was an event of such a disturbing and depressing nature, that she could not rise above its influence. The night that followed this visit, had been almost sleepless. A dozen times she repented of compliance — yet, as often, in going back over her past life, and dwelling on certain events, a knowledge of which Edwin claimed to possess, she felt a sickening sense of the imperious necessity that was upon her, and saw that no other way of escape remained.

She had found no difficulty in selling her stocks, though, in the negotiation with a broker, she was compelled to make a loss of three percent, besides commissions. Five thousand dollars were paid down, and she was to receive the balance next day, in order to make good the second check of four thousand dollars held by Edwin. Parting with these large sums, was like wringing drops of blood from her heart; not that she had a miser's love for money — she valued it for the position and power it gave her. The hardest thing to bear in this hard necessity, was the triumph gained over her by Edwin, whom she had hated with implacable hatred. Suddenly the tables were turned, and she found herself at his mercy. This was too hard for endurance. It seemed, at times, as if it would drive her mad.

How could she get him out of her way? For hours, in the darkness, she pondered this dark question, the will to compass murder fully formed in her heart. There were no doubts, nor hesitations, nor weak tremors at thought of dagger or poison; only at thoughts of safety to herself. If the power of invisibility could have been the gift of a demon — she would have accepted the blessing, and, with her own hidden hand, sent death to the heart of her step-son! But, certain immunity was impossible. She could not venture into this path of crime, without the encounter of risks too great to be accepted. And so, the question of how he was to be removed from her obstructed path was pondered in vain.

The visit and extortion of Edwin, made in the face of terrifying threats, the wild thoughts and heart-struggles of the night, and the constrained work of the morning, left Mrs. Larobe in that sensitive, nervous condition which is liable to disturbance from the most trifling causes. When she left the bank, after handing in the deposit which was to make good theextorted check, she was, as we have seen, in a state of nervous exhaustion. Except for this, her encounter with the strange looking old man, would have been an incident to be forgotten in a moment. But, as trifling as the incident was, it added largely to the disturbing forces by which she was now assailed.

As the street door of her own house closed behind her, Mrs. Larobe moved slowly and with weak steps along the hall, entering one of the parlors, and sinking in tremor and exhaustion upon a sofa. Over ten minutes elapsed, before rising to go upstairs. A few moments she stood in front of a large mirror, stretching from floor to ceiling, scarcely recognizing her own pale, troubled face. How had less than twenty-four hours of baffling contest with superior forces, marred the smooth repose of her countenance.

Turning from the mirror, she stood, for an instant, among the curtains that draped the long low windows; but, only for an instant. Back, as if a strong arm had drawn her away, she moved suddenly, catching her breath, and clasping her hands over her bosom. The strange old man had glanced up to her from the pavement, staring, as before, at her sudden apparition, and then bending towards her with a wild, eager look.

Mrs. Larobe shuddered, and sat down, again; sat down and listened breathlessly. Every moment she expected to hear the bell ring. But, five minutes passed, and no hand pulled at the wire. Then she breathed more freely. A stealthy reconnaissance from behind the window curtains, satisfied her that the insane man, for so she regarded him, was no longer in front of her house. This added excitement finished the work of exhaustion. When Mrs. Larobe readied her chamber, she had only enough strength left to remove her dress. For more than three hours, she lay in such apparent stupefaction, that both her children and servants became alarmed, and made efforts to arouse her. She gave no heed to them, beyond expressing a desire to be left alone, until an undertoned conversation about sending for a physician, aroused her to the necessity of regaining a portion of her lost mental and bodily equilibrium. So she spoke in firmer tones, saying that she was better, and would be down at tea time.

In this she kept her word. At the tea table, she appeared with little change from her ordinary manner, but was paler than usual, ate scarcely anything, and spoke but few sentences during the meal. After tea, she retired to her own chamber, into which only Blanche intruded. Mrs. Larobe sent her away, but she soon came back and insisted on remaining. Her presence, considering Mrs. Larobe's state of mind, was not now to be endured; so she was thrust violently from the room, and left to scream and beat the door in passion, until she grew tired.

About eight o'clock, a servant tapped for entrance, and was directed to come in.

"There's a gentleman in the parlor," she said.

"Who is it?" Mrs. Larobe knit her brows and looked annoyed.

"He didn't give me his name, ma'am," replied the servant.

"Why didn't you ask him?"

"I did, ma'am, but he said it was no difference."

"Was it the gentleman who was here last evening?'

"O no, ma'am. It isn't him."

"Very well. Say I'll be down."

The servant withdrew. Mrs. Larobe felt herself yielding to returning nervous tremors.

"Who can it be?" she asked herself. "I wish visitors would send up their names." She was about recalling the servant, and insisting on the person's name, when she changed her mind, and making a few changes of dress, went down to the parlors. She had been there for scarcely a minute, when a loud cry was heard, followed by a jarring sound, as if a heavy weight had fallen. Children and servants ran downstairs in alarm, and on entering the parlor, found Mrs. Larobe on the floor, insensible, and alone. The visitor had made good his escape!

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