Tarlton Law Library
Jamail Center for Legal Research

         "Constant you are-- 
. . . And for secrecy 
No lady closer." 
                 Henry IV. 

         "No, 't is slander, 
Whose edge is sharper than the sword whose tongue 
Outvenoms all the worms of Nile." 
                                        Cymbeline. 

as immobile, she crouched with rigid hands frozen in forgotten entreaty 
before her, apparently insensible to sound, movement, or touch; a 
silent figure of despair in presence of an implacable fate. 
     Impressed by the scene, I stood with my hand upon the curtain, 
hesitating if to advance or retreat, when suddenly a sharp tremble 
shook her impassive frame, the rigid hands unlocked, the stony eyes 
softened, and, springing to her feet, she uttered a cry of satisfaction, 
and advanced towards me. 
     "Miss Leavenworth!" I exclaimed, starting at the sound of my own 
voice. 
     She paused, and pressed her hands to her face, as if the world and 
all she had forgotten had rushed back upon her at this simple utterance 
of her name. 
     "What is it?" I asked. 
     Her hands fell heavily. "Do you not know? They—they are beginning 
to say that I—" she paused, and clutched her throat. "Read!" she 
gasped, pointing to a newspaper lying on the floor at her feet. 
     I stooped and lifted what showed itself at first glance to be the 
Evening Telegram. It needed but a single look to inform me to what 
she referred. There, in startling characters, I beheld: 

     I was prepared for it; had schooled myself for this very thing, you 
might say; and yet I could not help recoiling. Dropping the paper from 
my hand, I stood before her, longing and yet dreading to look into her 
face. 
     "What does it mean?" she panted; "what, what does it mean? Is the 
world mad?" and her eyes, fixed and glassy, stared into mine as if she 
found it impossible to grasp the sense of this outrage. 
     I shook my head. I could not reply. 
     "To accuse me" she murmured; "me, me!" striking her breast 
with her clenched hand, "who loved the very ground he trod upon; who 
would have cast my own body between him and the deadly bullet if I had 
only known his danger. "Oh!" she cried, "it is not a slander they 
utter, but a dagger which they thrust into my heart!" 
     Overcome by her misery, but determined not to show my compassion 
until more thoroughly convinced of her complete innocence, I replied, 
after a pause: 
     "This seems to strike you with great surprise, Miss Leavenworth; 
were you not then able to foresee what must follow your determined 
reticence upon certain points? Did you know so little of human nature 
as to imagine that, situated as you are, you could keep silence in 
regard to any matter connected with this crime, without arousing the 
antagonism of the crowd, to say nothing of the suspicions of the police?" 
     "But—but—" 
     I hurriedly waved my hand. "When you defied the coroner to find 
any suspicious paper in your possession; when" — I forced myself to 
speak — "you refused to tell Mr. Gryce how you came in possession of 
the key — " 

     She drew hastily back, a heavy pall seeming to fall over her with my 
words. 
     "Don't," she whispered, looking in terror about her. "Don't! 
Sometimes I think the walls have ears, and that the very shadows 
listen." 
     "Ah," I returned; "then you hope to keep from the world what is 
known to the detectives?" 
     She did not answer. 
     "Miss Leavenworth," I went on, "I am afraid you do not 
comprehend your position. Try to look at the case for a moment in the 
light of an unprejudiced person; try to see for yourself the necessity 
of explaining—" 
     "But I cannot explain," she murmured huskily. 
     "Cannot!" 
     I do not know whether it was the tone of my voice or the word 
itself, but that simple expression seemed to affect her like a blow. 
     "Oh!" she cried, shrinking back: "you do not, cannot doubt me, 
too? I thought that you—" and stopped. "I did not dream that I—" 
and stopped again. Suddenly her whole form quivered. "Oh, I see! You 
have mistrusted me from the first; the appearances against me have been 
too strong"; and she sank inert, lost in the depths of her shame and 
humiliation. "Ah, but now I am forsaken!" she murmured. 
     The appeal went to my heart. Starting forward, I exclaimed: "Miss 
Leavenworth, I am but a man; I cannot see you so distressed. Say that 
you are innocent, and I will believe you, without regard to 
appearances." 
     Springing erect, she towered upon me. "Can any one look in my face 
and accuse me of guilt?" Then, as I sadly shook my head, she 

hurriedly gasped: "You want further proof!" and, quivering with an 
extraordinary emotion, she sprang to the door. 
     "Come, then," she cried, "come!" her eyes flashing full of 
resolve upon me. 
     Aroused, appalled, moved in spite of myself, I crossed the room to 
where she stood; but she was already in the hall. Hastening after her, 
filled with a fear I dared not express, I stood at the foot of the 
stairs; she was half-way to the top. Following her into the hall
above, I saw her form standing erect and noble at the door of her 
uncle's bedroom. 
     "Come!" she again cried, but this time in a calm and reverential 
tone; and flinging the door open before her, she passed in. 
     Subduing the wonder which I felt, I slowly followed her. There was 
no light in the room of death, but the flame of the gas-burner, at the 
far end of the hall, shone weirdly in, and by its glimmering I beheld 
her kneeling at the shrouded bed, her head bowed above that of the 
murdered man, her hand upon his breast. 
     "You have said that if I declared my innocence you would believe 
me," she exclaimed, lifting her head as I entered. "See here," and 
laying her cheek against the pallid brow of her dead benefactor, she 
kissed the clay-cold lips softly, wildly, agonizedly, then, leaping to 
her feet, cried, in a subdued but thrilling tone: "Could I do that if 
I were guilty? Would not the breath freeze on my lips, the blood 
congeal in my veins, and my heart faint at this contact? Son of a 
father loved and reverenced, can you believe me to be a woman stained 
with crime when I can do this?" and kneeling again she cast her arms 
over and about that inanimate form, looking in my face at the same time 

with an expression no mortal touch could paint, nor tongue describe.
     "In olden times," she went on, "they used to say that a dead body 
would bleed if its murderer came in contact with it. What then would 
happen here if I, his daughter, his cherished child, loaded with 
benefits, enriched with his jewels, warm with his kisses, should be the 
thing they accuse me of? Would not the body of the outraged dead burst 
its very shroud and repel me?" 
     I could not answer; in the presence of some scenes the tongue 
forgets its functions. 
     "Oh!" she went on, "if there is a God in heaven who loves 
justice and hates a crime, let Him hear me now. If I, by thought or 
action, with or without intention, have been the means of bringing this 
dear head to this pass; if so much as the shadow of guilt, let alone 
the substance, lies upon my heart and across these feeble woman's 
hands, may His wrath speak in righteous retribution to the world, and 
here, upon the breast of the dead, let this guilty forehead fall, never 
to rise again!" 
     An awed silence followed this invocation; then a long, long sigh of 
utter relief rose tremulously from my breast, and all the feelings 
hitherto suppressed in my heart burst their bonds, and leaning towards 
her I took her hand in mine. 
     "You do not, cannot believe me tainted by crime now?" she 
whispered, the smile which does not stir the lips, but rather emanates 
from the countenance, like the flowering of an inner peace, breaking 
softly out on cheek and brow. 
     "Crime!" The word broke uncontrollably from my lips; "crime!" 

     "No," she said calmly, "the man does not live who could accuse me 
of crime, here." 
     For reply, I took her hand, which lay in mine, and placed it on the 
breast of the dead. 
     Softly, slowly, gratefully, she bowed her head. 
     "Now let the struggle come!" she whispered. "There is one who 
will believe in me, however dark appearances may be."