The Woman Who Vowed Part 25

At last the janitor hesitated, and it seemed clear that Ariston was on the right scent.

"Who was it?"

"I don't know. I was sleepy, I did not insist."

"Did no one pa.s.s out next day whom you had not admitted on the previous night?"

"I did not notice any one particularly; I could not distinguish; so many come and go."

The janitor seemed to think a little and hesitate.

"Go on," said Ariston. "Of whom are you thinking?"

"A veiled woman pa.s.sed out that day and put a piece of money in my hand."

"Over-astute Neaera!" thought I.

"Did you not recognize the woman?" asked Ariston.

"No, she was veiled."

"Would you be surprised if I could guess at what hour she pa.s.sed out?"

The janitor looked at Ariston stupidly.

"She pa.s.sed out within an hour after Lydia."

"Yes," nodded the janitor, "just about that."

"Have you seen or talked with Masters's aunt since that day?"

"No."

Ariston then asked the magistrate to send for the messenger and Masters's aunt.

The janitor was asked to wait in case he should be needed, and we adjourned for lunch. While lunching Ariston and I agreed that we were going to get at the facts, and that it would be better not to let the editor know them till after to-morrow morning. "I mean to give him rope," said Ariston. "He'll hang himself, I think."

The messenger arrived shortly, and from him the ident.i.ty of the veiled lady was very soon elicited. He had evidently received his piece of money also, and endeavored to avoid a direct admission, but Ariston got the fact out of him with but little difficulty, and his hesitation to admit it only brought out the more clearly the means Neaera had adopted to cover her tracks.

Masters's aunt arrived a little later in a state of utmost trepidation.

She came up to Ariston at once and implored him to tell her what the matter was; had she done anything wrong; she would tell anything that was wanted, but there were some things she could not tell; really, was Ariston going to ask her to tell things she really could not tell?

But Ariston calmed her, and told her the magistrate was there to protect her.

She bustled up to the magistrate, who stopped her by handing her the Bible, upon which she was told to take her oath.

The judicial severity of the magistrate subdued her at once; she took the oath and sat down. Ariston whispered to the magistrate, begging him to conduct the examination, and pointing out that the object of it was to elicit what occurred at Masters's rooms and whether or not Chairo and Lydia had actually met there.

The magistrate asked her a few leading questions, and as soon as the witness had recovered from the subduing effect of the magistrate's presence the floodgates were opened, and she poured forth the whole story, leaving a strong presumption that Lydia had not seen Chairo, and that Chairo had ignored the presence of Lydia.

It was late in the afternoon before the examination was closed. We found Chairo resting after his bath. He told us that he had seen Arkles, shown him a copy of the letter Ariston had drawn, and agreed with Arkles that a similar letter be written by Lydia.

Ariston told Chairo that we had not been idle, but that we judged it wiser for the present not to disclose to him what we had done. It would be advantageous later to be able to say that we had acted upon our own responsibility. We took Chairo after dinner to hear some music, and tried to make him forget the dreadful incidents of the day, suspecting, as we did, that a still more bitter dose was awaiting him next morning.

And the editor did not disappoint us. We breakfasted earlier than usual in order to receive the papers in our rooms. "Sacrifice" contained Chairo's letter just as Ariston had submitted it. Next came a shorter letter from Lydia to the following effect:

"SIR: It is not true that I have met Chairo since his release, clandestinely or otherwise, whether at Masters's rooms between ten and eleven day before yesterday, or at any other time or place.

"LYDIA SECOND."

But an editorial carried out the editor's threat of the day before. It stated that in compliance with the law, letters signed by Chairo and Lydia respectively had been that day published denying the truth of the charge made against them on the previous day, but that a sense of the duty which the paper owed to the public made it impossible to comply with Chairo's order to refrain from further comment on the matter. It was not of a private nature. On the contrary, it was a matter of the gravest public concern. "No one," it went on to say, "is less interested in Chairo's private affairs than ourselves, and we fully appreciate the reasons why he should prefer that his private affairs be not at this moment, or any other, exposed to public scrutiny; but he is charged with having violated the sanct.i.ty of the cloister, with having outraged a Demetrian, and with having, in violation of his oath, sought to consummate the crime, the perpetration of which had been prevented by the vigilance of the Demetrian cult. Is this a matter of purely private concern?"

The editorial then proceeded to explain the carefulness with which it had verified the truth of the statement published, compared the circ.u.mstantial evidence produced by themselves with the bareness of the denial published by the parties incriminated, and closed with the following words:

"We have always stood, and we stand to-day, for peace, purity, and cleanliness of life. Chairo stands for violence, l.u.s.t, and turpitude. We shall not allow ourselves to be intimidated by him or diverted from our plain duty to brand his contradiction as a lie."

It was a paper containing this outrageous attack on Chairo that Ariston brought into our room, flouris.h.i.+ng it over his head with an air of triumph, and crying:

"We have him--we have him. Good-bye, 'Sacrifice'"; and making a semblance of blowing it into the air, he handed it to Chairo, but before Chairo could read it he held it away from him and said:

"This is going to exasperate you--but believe me it is the best thing that could happen. We have already secured sworn evidence taken before a magistrate that vindicates both you and Lydia--don't ask us what it is--I shall be responsible for all I do. The intemperance of the language you are going to read is going to do you more good than all the eloquence you can command in yourself or in others."

When Chairo read the article he insisted on Ariston's telling him what evidence we had, and Ariston explained the proceedings of the previous day at length; he added that he knew Chairo would object to bring home the responsibility to Neaera, but that what Chairo might have reasons for not doing he, Ariston, had no reason for not doing, and that he proposed to make it clear that he, Ariston, was responsible for the whole proceeding and not Chairo.

"Well," said Chairo, "you have gone beyond the point where I can either stop or help you."

"Exactly," argued Ariston, "and this is exactly where I wanted to put you. This last attack upon both you and Lydia--for, of course, she is as much included as yourself--leaves you no alternative but to prosecute the editor. I propose to present to-day's article to the magistrate who took the testimony yesterday. He will grant me an order of arrest against the editor for libel, and both you and Lydia will be vindicated as you deserve."

As Ariston spoke, a note was handed to me from Anna of Ann begging me urgently to go and see her that afternoon at tea time. I showed it to Ariston, and we wondered what new development things were taking that could include Anna of Ann.

"Harmes!" exclaimed Ariston.

I was puzzled.

"What do you mean?" asked I.

"Neaera is playing her last card."

Then it flashed upon me.

That afternoon I went to see Anna of Ann and found her in profound dejection. Ariston had guessed right. A few days before Harmes had received a letter from Neaera and absented himself the whole afternoon.

He had returned much absorbed, and the next afternoon he had absented himself again. Anna had asked him if he had not heard from Neaera, and he had answered indignantly that all were conspiring to make a scapegoat of her. Anna had protested, but every word she said had only contributed to increase his indignation. He was evidently caught in the siren's meshes and hopelessly under her influence. What, asked Anna, should be done?

I pointed out to Anna that Ariston was much better able to help her in such a matter, and asked to be allowed to send Ariston to her the following day, but she demurred. I guessed at the reason of her objection and suggested her father calling on Ariston. But her father knew nothing of the matter and Anna thought it unwise to let him know.