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Mystery of the Hidden Room

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<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> <h3>THE SHOT</h3> The door was opened for me by Ruth herself, who drew me within, and locked it behind me. Then with a finger on her lip, she led the way in silence to the drawing-room, seeming to breathe only when the door of that room was closed against further intrusion. "What is it, Ruth?" I asked, more and more alarmed by all this secrecy coming on top of my own foolish fears. Instead of answering she drew me down beside her on the divan and touched with her fingers my graying temples. "Did I do that to you, Carlton?" she murmured, brokenly. "Oh, my dear, I wonder you had the courage to forgive me!" "Ruth!" I cried sharply and at the misery in my voice she slipped to her knees and buried her face in her arms. "Forgive me," she sobbed. "I should not have let myself go, but sometimes I feel I must go mad, alone night after night in this great silent house with only that horrible secretary of Phil's for company!" "Hush," I returned, drawing her to me, but she pushed me from her and raised her head in a startled way. "Listen!" she whispered, holding up her hand. "I thought I heard someone prowling around." More to satisfy Ruth and ease her fears, for I had heard no sound, I went to the door and flung it open. But the dimly lighted hall was empty save for the wavering shadows that lost themselves in the gloom of the stairwell. The utter silence and loneliness of the great house gave me an eerie feeling, and I was glad to close the door and return to Ruth. She had regained command of herself and was once more seated on the divan. As I approached she questioned me with her eyes. With a shake of the head and a reassuring smile, I resumed my place beside her. "I thought I could stand it," she said, after what seemed an interminable interval, "but you don't know what I have had to put up with. No, Carlton, please!" for I had caught her to me in my desire to shield her from all harm. "Forgive me," I returned humbly, rising and pacing the long room, "but I can't bear to hear you say such things when I love you so!" "I know, Carlton. I won't grieve you that way again. It was for another reason that I asked you here." She was so long, however, in telling me that reason that I had time to study her more closely, and my heart grew ever more bitter as I saw how thin she was and how the lines of suffering had gathered on her white brow and around her sweet, drooping mouth. Verily I cursed the day that Philip Darwin had crossed Ruth's path, and if he had entered the room at that moment I honestly believe I should have killed him. She must have read my thought for she cried out sharply, "No, no, Carlton, not that!" and when I flushed she added more quietly, "Won't you come and sit beside me, please?" When I had complied with her request, she lowered her voice until it was the merest thread, at the same time looking around her as if she feared the presence of someone else in the room. "You know I have a feeling that Mr. Orton, Phil's secretary, is always hanging around listening and spying upon me. Ugh, he makes me shiver with his prominent, near-sighted eyes, his eternal humility and mock grin. He reminds me of Uriah Heep in David Copperfield. I suppose I'm foolish, but I've been alone so much of late." "But, Ruth, I thought your father lived here with you?" "Yes, he did, but two weeks ago the doctor told him to take a vacation and he has been visiting friends out of town. I expect him home to-morrow or the next day at the latest. Then I shall be all right again." She clasped her hands in her lap and strove to keep back the tears. "Ruth, dear," I said, taking her little trembling hands in both my own, "why did you send for me? Surely there is something I can do!" She smiled faintly as she gently withdrew her hands and reclasped them in her lap. "It was for your sake I sent for you," she said, simply. "For my sake?" I asked puzzled. "You'd think that I had caused you enough suffering without adding needlessly to your sorrow," she continued, as if to herself. "Oh, Carlton," turning suddenly toward me, "forgive me, but I did a very foolish thing last night. I was so lonely and dispirited and nervous with hearing Mr. Orton prowling around and seeing him appear suddenly from shadowy corners that I locked myself in my room and poured out my heart to you." "Ruth, darling!" I murmured. "It was foolish, Carlton, nay more, it was imprudent, and realizing this last fact I tore up the letter and threw it in my waste basket. I would have done better to have kept it, for to-night about ten-thirty, when I was on the point of retiring, Mr. Orton knocked on my door and said that Phil desired my presence in his study." "You obeyed?" "Yes," she answered wearily. "It is only one of the many indignities I have had to endure. So I followed him to the study and there on the table the first thing I laid my eyes on was my letter—all those scraps pasted together on a larger sheet. Think of it, Carlton!" But I couldn't think. The petty sordidness of it was beyond me. I could only stare at her and speak a name below my breath. Orton was what I said. "Yes, he had found the letter. He examines my waste basket every day it seems," she continued, bitterly, "in hopes of finding just what he did find this morning. An unfaithful husband is always sure to be suspicious of his wife, and her moral superiority is equally sure to gall him." "I am not going to tell you what Phil said," she went on presently. "I couldn't, for most of it passed me by. But when he spoke of revenging himself upon you, of ruining you and breaking you, then I decided it was time to act. He told me he was going out, so I sent my maid with the note and instructions to my chauffeur. I had to warn you, to put you on your guard that you might be able to fight any rumors which he may spread. But, Carlton, please promise me that you will keep out of his way. Please, for my sake!" She clung to me as I shook my head impatiently. "It would only make it harder for me, Carlton!" she pleaded. "Never mind me, Ruth!" I said almost angrily. "Think of yourself for a few minutes. Why don't you get a divorce or at least a separation? You have more than enough grounds." "No, no. He would take it out on Dick. Don't you see he has me in his power?" It was useless to try to influence her, especially as I could well appreciate the justice of her remark. I slightly cursed Philip Darwin for a blackguard, and then turned the conversation into a side channel. "Ruth, do you think you could get that letter for me?" I asked. "Why, Carlton?" "Because it is a powerful weapon to hold over you if he should ever decide to cast you aside." Seeing that this had no effect upon her, I added—would that I had cut my tongue out ere it had uttered those words! "because he can use it as a weapon against me." Instantly she was on her feet. "He put it in the drawer of the table in his study. Stay here, dear, while I see if I can get it." She opened the door of the drawing-room and crossed the hall to the study. The drawing-room occupied about one-third of the lower floor of the main wing and lay to the right of the entrance hall, while the study was its exact counterpart on the left, so that the door of the study was directly opposite the door of the drawing-room which was now open before me. I saw Ruth try the door of the study and as it yielded to her hand she advanced timidly into the room, leaving the door barely ajar behind her. My view being thus effectually cut off I strained forward in an endeavor to catch the slightest sound, but was only rewarded by the most profound stillness, through which there presently echoed and re-echoed the voice of the old clock in the hall proclaiming the midnight hour. Then, as if that ancient time-piece had been the signal previously agreed upon, there rang through the house from the direction of the study the sharp report of a pistol, followed by silence, absolute, profound! A moment I remained petrified, then with a bound I gained the study door, my one thought for Ruth. But on the threshold I stood rooted to the spot by the sight that met my eyes! In the patch of light cast by a small lamp upon the study table, lying back in his chair with a sardonic grin on his face and an ever-widening stain upon his shirt front, was Philip Darwin, while beside him as if turned to stone, stood Ruth with a pistol in her hand! <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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