What Came Afterwards CHAPTER 16.

On the same evening, sat Mr. and Mrs. Larobe, alone, in agitated conference. Mr. Larobe had said to his wife, in remonstrance —

"Jane, you must rally! Your appearance and conduct are attracting universal attention, and occasioning remarks and conjectures so nearly approaching the truth, that I am in terror every moment!"

"I try to rally," was answered, in a gloomy, depressed tone of voice; "but have lost command of myself. I seem to be like the Italian prisoner — in a cell, the walls of which contract around me every day. Imagination goes constantly forward to the moment, when flesh and bones will be crushed into a lifeless mass!"

"Madness, Jane! You are but holding out your hands to destruction. Be the calm, self-poised woman again. Throw off this nightmare. All eyes are upon you, and the word of wonder, concerning the change in your appearance, goes freely from lip to lip. People look at me in a strange, curious way, as I pass along the street; and I know it is because ofyou. Everything is safe now. In a day after tomorrow — he will be removed from the city."

"Only from the city." Mrs. Larobe's voice had in it something so icy, in its low, even utterance of this sentence, that her husband felt a chill along his nerves. He looked into her face; but her leaden eyes did not return his gaze — did not hold outward things on the sensitive retina.

"If my advice had prevailed, this would not have been," she said, with a slight quickening of the voice.

Mr. Larobe understood his wife, and shuddered inwardly. The movement of his chair a few inches back, was involuntary.

"There is no safety in these timid measures," she added, with stern emphasis, her voice rising to a fuller volume. "Unless strong enough to walk resolutely to the end, it is folly to enter a perilous way. I saw and urged this in the beginning; but you temporized and interposed, thus cursing our years with a perpetual menace. While he lives — we are in imminent danger. It is his life — or our lives! Shall we hesitate in our choice? Justin Larobe! — answer me! — would not the news of his death, so long as you were freed from any responsibility concerning the act — be the sweetest news that could this moment sound in your ears?"

"I will not deny it."

"You would not care as to how he died; whether by violence, or in the order of nature — just so long as you were not involved?"

"No — I would not care."

"The deed can be done swiftly and easily."

Larobe shuddered again, as if a cold wind had struck him.

"And it must be done!" Mrs. Larobe's pale face grew dark from sudden congestion of blood in the veins. She spoke like one fearfully in earnest.

"Murder will find us out, Jane!" answered her husband, in a voice so altered, that his own ears scarcely recognized the sound. "Murder will find us out! Blood stains are never washed away. Risk anything but that!"

"I am not superstitious," replied Mrs. Larobe, with covert contempt for this weakness, in her tones. "If the door is left unguarded — then murder will find us out; if the washing is careless — then blood will remain. But, there are locks and bolts a-plenty; and whole rivers for cleansing. Let the work be well done, and all signs removed; and it must be done! Death itself were better than this horrible life. He must not be taken from the city. A feeble, exhausted old man, the prick even of a needle would let life and misery out together. Why torment him longer? It is cruel! Let him die; and in his rest and peace — we shall find rest and peace also."

"The murderer never has rest and peace," answered Mr. Larobe, solemnly. "The world's criminal record is full of admonition. Call it superstition, or what you will, Jane — earth refuses to hide the blood of murder. No — no. This, depend on it, is not the way of safety; but the way to sure destruction!"

"I have made up my mind to walk in this way," said Mrs. Larobe, with a cruel resolution in her voice.

Her husband felt the shivering wind sweep over his spirit again; and, with an involuntary movement, receded to a greater distance. The dull, leaden hue had left her eyes which now had a steely glitter. Her body was more erect; her head drawn back; her lips shut firmly.

"This present life is intolerable, Justin!" she added. "I am not strong enough to bear the burden. You see that I am sinking under it, daily. I shall lose my senses in a month, and betray everything in my unconscious ravings. Even now, I catch myself muttering aloud, in the presence of servants, all of whom seem to be watching me with sharp suspicion. As surely as you live and as I live, Justin, there is but one way of safety. If that is not taken — we are lost. My poor brain cannot hold out much longer. I feel that it is giving way. If this terror is left hanging over me — madness is inevitable; and then, though I may be safe from punishment, you will be lost, for confession will drop from my unsealed lips. I am sure that I shall be moved to confess everything."

A change in Mr. Larobe's face, showed that his wife's last argument had reached him. He did not reply immediately, but took time to weigh the argument, and get to its real value.

"I am disappointed in you, Jane," he said, at last, in a voice that was hoarse and impeded. "I never expected to see you break down in this way. Self-reliant, unimpassioned, cool and wary, I thought you able to walk steadfastly to the end. What does it mean?"

"I cannot tell what it means," was answered, in a depressed tone. "But the fact is upon us, and we must deal with it as best we can. The nerves are not made of insensate brass. At least, not mine; and under the present strain, they must give way. When that calamity reaches me, I shall have stepped past all danger; but you, Justin Larobe, will be in most imminent peril! I warn you in time! Two ways are before you; both difficult to walk in — and it is for you to take that which is safest."

There was dead silence for nearly ten minutes. Both sat motionless.

"I must sleep on this," said Larobe, breaking, at length, the stillness. "Tonight, all my thoughts are confused. In the morning, they will be calmer and clearer."

"Sleep!" Ejaculated his wife, with an emphasis that made him startle. "Sleep, on the edge of a volcano! or over a mine with the train ablaze! There is no more sleep for me, until this terror is removed. Why hesitate, Justin? Why put off until tomorrow, what so needs to be done now. Let tonight's darkness hide from us, forever, this hideous skeleton, which is blasting our eyes at every turn."

"I cannot see the means," said Larobe. "Work like this may not be done with ordinary agencies. There is no living soul that I would trust with the power over me which anaccomplice in such a crime would possess. If he is to be taken out of our way, by whose hand shall it be done?"

There followed a long pause. "Is not Black to be trusted?"

"I would not trust him."

Another long pause.

"It might be done, and the mystery of the doing left impenetrable." Mrs. Larobe spoke slowly, but with confidence."

"How, and by whom?"

"First the will, and then the way. You had him taken to Black's, and can remove him at pleasure."

"Yes."

"Remove him tonight."

"Where?"

"To some place where he will be wholly in our power."

"You talk without reason," said Larobe, with some impatience. "The very fact of removing him tonight, and without previous notice of intention, would of itself create suspicion. Depend upon it, Jane, this deed cannot be done with safety. Every step will be in difficulty, and no matter how lightly and cautiously taken, footprints must remain behind; footprints, along which the bloodhound of justice will follow as surely as fate."

The brief animation died out of Mrs. Larobe's countenance. It grew pale, contracted, and shadowed again.

"I must sleep on this," resumed Mr. Larobe, repeating what he had said a little while before. "Tomorrow morning, I shall see clearer. To act now, would be to act blindly."

Mrs. Larobe made no response. Her husband did not look at her while he spoke. Indeed, he rarely looked into her face, for it had become a thing repulsive in his eyes; a sight to be avoided. For nearly a minute, he sat waiting her answer — but, as she still kept silence, he glanced towards her without turning his head. In doing so, he met a glance asstealthy as his own, watching him from the covert of half shut lids — snaky, cruel, and malignant! In an instant it was withdrawn; but, it left a strange shiver of fear in his heart. In all his life, he had never seen so remarkable an expression in any eye. It was as if a fiend had looked at him — a fiend thirsting with an insatiate desire to do him harm!

"Sleep if you can," said the woman, coldly, and rising, she left the room.

He did not sleep. And the long delayed morning found his brain no clearer than on the night before.

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