The Ivory Snuff Box Part 19

CHAPTER XX

Grace had remained upon her knees beside the prostrate figure of her husband but a moment, when she was torn away by Hartmann and his a.s.sistant, and before she realized their intention, the former had slipped about her waist the broad leather strap he had brought from the room above, and was busy securing it to an iron staple fixed in the wall at one side of the room. Then he stood back and surveyed the scene with a smile of satisfaction.

"You see, Mayer," he observed, grimly, "my purpose. The wife sees the husband's suffering. If he refuses to speak, she will speak. One or the other will tell us what we want to know, of that you may be sure. Let us leave them to talk matters over." He and his man at once left the room, and in a few moments Grace heard their footsteps upon the floor of the laboratory above.

"Richard," she cried, softly, "are you suffering very much?"

"Never mind, dear," he said, trying vainly to turn his head so that he might see her. "What has happened--why have they brought you here?"

She told him her story, brokenly, with many sobs. "I could not help it, Richard," she moaned. "I did my best. I could not help their finding out everything."

"I know it, dear. You have done all you could. Is there any news from outside?"

"None. They told me to play the phonograph to send you a message. Did you hear it?"

"Yes, I heard, and understood."

"Understood? Then you know something--you have some hope?"

"I do not know. It may be, although I cannot see what to do now. I dare not tell you more than that--these scoundrels are undoubtedly listening in the room above."

"Richard, what is that light? What is it they mean to do to you? Dr.

Hartmann showed me his hand--it was all scarred and burned. He said it came from that." She looked toward the glowing cone of light with bitter anger.

"I do not know--exactly. I am not sure. The agony of the thing is very great--it burns into my eyes--into my brain. Hartmann says it will produce insanity. I do not know whether this is true or not. I begin to feel that perhaps it may be--not that the light itself can produce it, but that inability to sleep, pain, nervous exhaustion, the constant glare and brilliance before my eyes--those things might cause a man to go insane, if they were kept up long enough."

"But--he--he will not dare to do that."

Duvall groaned, striving in vain to turn his head to one side. "He intends to keep me here, until I tell him where he can find the snuff box," he gasped.

"Richard!" Grace fairly screamed out his name. "Then you must tell--you _must_! You cannot let yourself go mad--not even for Monsieur Lefevre."

"I shall not tell--no matter what comes," he replied.

"Then _I_ will. I refuse to let you suffer like this. I can't do it, I won't. If you do not speak, I shall. Oh, my G.o.d! Don't you see--I love you--I love you so--what do I care about this foolish snuff box? I want you--you--and I _won't_ let them take you away from me."

"Grace, you shall not tell them."

"I will."

"I forbid it."

"I cannot help it, Richard. I am ready to disobey you--if I must, to save your life. Even if you turn from me--afterward--I cannot help it. I refuse to let them go ahead with this thing."

He groaned in desperation. "Please--please--my girl--listen to me. You must not speak. We must think of our duty to those who have trusted us.

Wait, I implore you. Don't do this!"

"I will. I have a duty to you which is greater than my duty to them. Dr.

Hartmann!" she screamed. "I will tell everything--everything." She collapsed against the wall and sobbed as though her heart would break.

In a few moments they heard Hartmann and Mayer descending the steps, and the door was thrown open.

"Ah, so you have come to your senses, have you?" the doctor cried.

"Well, what have you to say?"

Grace raised her head. "If I tell you where the ivory snuff box is hidden," she said, "will you let my husband go?"

"Yes. Your husband, and yourself, and the rat we've just caught sneaking around outside. He's up in the laboratory now. You can all take yourselves off as quickly as you like, when once the snuff box is in my hands. Now speak."

"First, let my husband up."

Hartmann went to the wall, and switching off the violet rays, turned on the electric lamp, then nodded to Mayer. "Unbind him," he said.

Duvall staggered to his feet, half-blinded. As he did so, Hartmann turned to Grace. "Speak!" he commanded. "We are wasting time."

Before Grace could reply, Duvall turned to her.

"I forbid you," he cried. "If you do this thing, I will never see you again as long as I live. You are destroying my honor. I refuse to let you do it. Stop!"

The girl hesitated, and Hartmann swore a great oath. "Take her out of here, Mayer," he cried. "She'll never speak, as long as her husband is present to dissuade her. Up with her to the laboratory. She'll talk there, quick enough."

"No!" Duvall staggered toward her. "You shall not." His movements were slow and uncertain, due to the blinding pain in his eyes, and his stiffened, nerve-racked limbs. Hartmann pushed him aside angrily. "Be quiet," he growled. "Let the woman alone."

Meanwhile Hartmann's companion had torn away the strap which bound Grace to the wall and was leading her to the door. Her husband's efforts to detain her, weak and uncertain, were easily frustrated by Hartmann. In a few moments the door had swung shut upon the detective, and she was being led up the steps to the room above.

Here she fell into a chair, and looking about, saw huddled on a couch in the far corner of the room a little, bent old man, who sat with his white head bowed upon his breast, his hands tied behind his back.

Hartmann went over to him and unfastened his bonds. "You will be happier in a moment, my friend," he laughed. "This lady is going to set you free."

Dufrenne--for it was he--sprang to his feet. "How?" he demanded. "How?"

As he spoke, he crossed the room, his eyes gleaming, and faced Grace as she sat in the chair.

"Wait and see, old man," said Hartmann, roughly. "Stand aside, please."

He pushed Dufrenne impatiently away. "Now, young woman, where is the ivory snuff box?"

Grace raised her head to reply, when the little old Frenchman turned to her, pale with anger. "No!" he shouted, starting forward. "You shall not do this thing. Would you be a traitor to France!"

Grace looked at him and shuddered. His face was quivering with emotion--his eyes burned with piercing brightness, he seemed about to spring at her, in his rage. In a moment Hartmann had turned on him. "Be quiet!" he roared. "I want no interference from you. Mayer!" He pointed a trembling forefinger at the old Frenchman. "Take this fellow away."

Mayer took Dufrenne by the arm and twisted it cruelly. "No nonsense, now!" he growled, thrusting the old man toward the couch upon which he had been sitting. "Hold your tongue, or it will be worse for you."

Dufrenne resisted him as best he could, but his age and feebleness rendered him helpless. He sank upon the couch, with tears of anger starting to his eyes.

Grace dared not look at him. The enormity of the thing she was about to do appalled her. Yet there was Richard, her husband; Richard, whom she loved with all her soul, in the room below, facing madness, death. The love she felt for him overmastered all other considerations. She turned to Hartmann with quivering face. "The box is in the room below," she cried, in a voice shaking with emotion.

"_Mon Dieu--mon Dieu!_" she heard Dufrenne gasp, as he started from the couch. "You have ruined us all."

Hartmann and Mayer gazed at each other incredulously. "Impossible!" the former gasped. "Impossible!" Then he turned to Grace. "Girl, are you telling me the truth?"