The White Rose of Memphis
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“When I arrived at New York I learned that no clew to the missing girl had been discovered, and that the police and detectives had given up the contest. I went to work in earnest, determined to exhaust every plan I could think of to find Viola. But at the end of ten days hope died in my breast, and I was compelled to conclude that Viola had drowned herself. I remained in New York a month, and it was with a sad heart I started home, when I thought of the distressing news that I would be compelled to communicate to Lottie. I had not been back home but a short time when Harry returned from California looking more like a ghost than a man.
“‘Is she found?’ he gasped, as he staggered into my office and dropped into a chair.
“‘No, but we still have hopes. You are ill, Harry; let me go home with you – Lottie is looking for you.’
“‘No, I will not go home – I cannot bear to look into dear Lottie’s face now. I am going immediately on to New York, to spend the remnant of my life in searching for poor Viola; though I have but little hope of ever seeing her dear face again.’
“‘What about your uncle’s will?’
“‘Oh! don’t let us talk about that now; money has been my ruin. I am a rich man now, but it comes too late. Fortune still continues to hurl her deadly missiles with unerring aim at me. Everything goes wrong with me; my uncle did make another will, and placed it in the hands of a trusted friend, who happened to be traveling in Europe when my uncle died. If that friend had been at home all would have been well, but my luck would not have it so. The man with whom the will had been left fell ill and died in Scotland, and when his administrator took charge of his effects in San Francisco, my uncle’s will came to the surface, giving his property to Lottie and myself. Curse the will – curse the money – curses on my luck – a double curse on my foolish pride! Why did I not take Viola with me as my wife? Because I never was known to do anything that ought to be done. Viola told me that if I went to California we never would meet again. I did not understand her meaning then, but it is plain to me now. She was contemplating suicide then, and she has since carried out her intention. Here, Eddie, take this envelope, and when you know I am dead you may open it. Don’t stare at me that way, please – it is nothing but my will, giving all my property to Lottie. She has the good sense to make the proper use of it. Give my love to my darling sister, and tell her when I find Viola she shall see me, but never until I do. Comfort my darling sister, and don’t let her grieve about her unfortunate brother. She will make you happy, as you deserve. I would give all the world if I had your happy disposition; but alas, it cannot be so! Good-by, old fellow; we may meet again, but never until I find Viola.’
“Before I could muster courage to answer, he was gone.
* * * * * *CHAPTER XXXIX
“Nearly a year has elapsed since I last parted with Harry Wallingford under very peculiar circumstances. It was at the cemetery in the city of New York, where I took my painful leave of him, and I never have seen him since, though we have received several letters from him. I believe it was on the next Monday after Wallingford set out on his journey to New York, that Mr. Rockland received a letter from Mr. Dalmaxim, which furnished a solution of the mystery connected with Miss Bramlett’s sad fate. In order to enlighten my audience as much as possible in connection with that distressing affair, I will read you the letter:
“‘NATHANIEL ROCKLAND:
“‘DEAR SIR – It is with feelings of the deepest sorrow that I perform the sad duty of conveying to you the news of Miss Bramlett’s death. The body of that unfortunate young lady was discovered on yesterday floating in East river, where it had evidently remained a considerable length of time, for it was in an advanced stage of decomposition. The features were very much disfigured, probably occasioned by being eaten by the fish, but her friends here readily recognized the drab silk dress as the one worn by Miss Bramlett on the day of her disappearance. A large gold ring with a diamond set was found on one of her fingers, which was also identified by her friends as the property of Miss Bramlett. On the inside of the ring the letters “From Harry to Viola,” appeared, plainly engraved, which settles the question of identity beyond the possibility of a doubt. The body was found under the wharf, where it had been held by a large iron spike that projected from one of the piles, which had caught in the skirt of the silk dress, thus preventing the corpse from floating out. A white handkerchief of very costly fabric, bordered with lace, was found in the left-hand pocket of her dress, which was found to be marked in one corner with the letters “V. B.,” plainly wrought with green silk thread. The handkerchief was also identified as the property of Miss Bramlett. That the poor girl committed suicide there seems to be no room for doubt, as upon critical examination, made by experienced surgeons, no marks of violence could be discovered. A large number of witnesses were examined before the jury of inquest, including many friends and relatives of Miss Bramlett; all of them recognized the dress, ring, and handkerchief as her property. Notwithstanding the vigorous efforts made by Miss Bramlett’s friends to ascertain the cause that induced her to destroy herself, nothing definite has been developed; though I hear it suggested that it was a disappointment in a love affair with Mr. Wallingford. I am thoroughly convinced that it was not the loss of her fortune that caused it, for all concur in the idea that she despised money, and was often heard to say that she regretted being a rich heiress. With many wishes for your health and success, I am, sir, yours very respectfully,
“‘ALBERT DALMAXIM’“Before Harry Wallingford arrived at New York, the remains of the drowned girl had been deposited in the grave.
“I was induced by Lottie to make a second trip to New York to bring Harry home. Upon my arrival at the city, I was not a little surprised to learn that Wallingford had caused a costly monument to be erected at the head of the grave, with a suitable inscription made in plain Italian letters.
“When I inquired for Harry at his hotel, I was told by the clerk that I would probably find him at the cemetery, as he had been in the habit of making diurnal visits there. I encountered many difficulties in threading my way through the city of the dead. But after making several mistakes, and traveling many hundreds of yards unnecessarily, I at length succeeded in finding the spot I sought.
“Harry was busily engaged with a florist in arranging some pinks and geraniums at the foot of the grave, and consequently did not observe me until I had stood leaning against the palings gazing at him for several minutes. When he looked up and saw me he dropped the trowel with which he had been transplanting the flowers, and walked briskly toward me, saying as he held out his hand:
“‘Ah, Edward, I have killed her at last! Here lies my poor victim – driven into the grave by an unworthy wretch who is himself unfit to live, and not prepared to die. You told me I would kill her, and alas! how true it has come to pass.’
“‘I am sent by Lottie to bring you home,’ I at length managed to say. ‘Your sister is almost driven to despair by this distressing occurrence, and it is your duty to go to her as speedily as possible.’
“‘No, Edward, it would only serve to increase my darling sister’s sorrow for me to be with her. Tell my beloved sister that it is my wish to remain in New York, where I can water the grave of my victim with my tears, and commune with her gentle spirit.’
“Now, my good friends, here I am at the end of my awkward story, and if I have bored you with the telling of it, I am truly sorry for it; but if I knew I had been so fortunate as to interest you, I should be very much gratified. To all of my good friends who have been so kind as to honor me with their attention, I beg permission to express my grateful thanks; and by way of winding up the entertainment, I suggest the idea that we now adjourn to the saloon and engage in a quadrille.”
“Wait a moment, sir, if you please,” said Ivanhoe, as he threw himself in front of Ingomar, as if he was determined to force him to halt; “you have not yet finished your story, and we do not intend to permit you to retire until you have told us what has become of Lottie Wallingford.”
“Yes, yes, yes!” exclaimed a dozen voices at once. “Let us know what has become of Lottie Wallingford.”
“My friends,” replied Ingomar, “I pledge you my word that there is no such person as Lottie Wallingford now living, so far as I know or believe; but if her Majesty will remove her mask, I will be very glad to introduce to you Mrs. Lottie Demar, my beloved wife, of whom I am exceedingly proud.”
By the time Ingomar concluded the sentence, the mask was removed, and Lottie stood, radiant, beautiful, and blushing before the admiring multitude.
For a moment the spectators gazed in breathless wonder at the angelic loveliness of the beautiful creature who stood before them; then the audience began to press around the charming object, eager to offer their congratulations. Captain Quitman, in whose eyes tears of joy trembled, leaped on a box, and brandishing his cane in the air, called out, “Three cheers for the Barbarian Chief and his beautiful Parthenia!” Then rose such a joyous shout as to drown the great noise caused by the machinery of the boat. A proposition was made by Ingomar, and indorsed unanimously by the crowd, that all disguises should instantly be laid aside. When Don Quixote removed his mask, Lottie sprang forward, and seizing both of his hands, exclaimed:
“Oh, bless us! it is Doctor Plaxico, and I am so much delighted to meet my valued friend! And here is Captain Burk, too! I am really ashamed to acknowledge that I did not recognize either of you.”
When Scottie removed her mask, Captain Burk threw up his hands with surprise, as he moved rapidly to her side, while his handsome features lighted up with a delightful smile.
“Miss Darlington,” he ejaculated, “two years ago I considered you very pretty, but now I am ready to swear on the Bible and the Koran that you are the most beautiful girl on the globe!”
“Captain Burk,” replied Miss Darlington, as she smiled sweetly on him, “I beg to remind you that, notwithstanding all women are fond of flattery, they do not like to be praised in public.”
All of the maskers promptly complied with the agreement by immediately dispensing with their disguises, except Napoleon, Navarre, and the lady in the black domino, all three of whom abruptly retired from the deck as soon as the proposition was made.
Ingomar conducted Lottie down to the saloon, where they were immediately followed by all the passengers.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said the captain, “I have a communication to make to you, which I am happy to believe will be heartily indorsed by my young friends. We are now approaching a landing where we expect to take on a large lot of cotton bales, which will detain us at least six hours; and I have ordered the steward to prepare a picnic dinner to be served on shore, where you will find charming scenery, cool shade, and green turf. I have also ordered the band to be ready to make music for those who may wish to enjoy a rustic dance.”
The spot selected for the picnic was about two hundred yards from the river-bank, where the soft velvet turf was shaded by the thick green leaves of innumerable tall beech-trees, whose branches were covered with verdant vines.
The band struck up a lively waltz, and then a dozen couples went skipping over the greensward.
After the amusements had been progressing about an hour, a colored woman appeared on the grounds with a large hamper basket of flowers, which she offered for sale. Among the flowers there was a magnificent bouquet, containing every variety known to the South, which Demar immediately purchased and presented to Lottie. The young people began to crowd around Lottie, eager to behold the beautiful present, and each one, of course, was permitted to examine it. Napoleon, although still wearing his mask and refusing to participate in any of the amusements, condescended to handle and admire the beautiful bouquet. It was noticed that he retained it for a long time, apparently interested in the delicate workmanship and ingenuity of its construction, occasionally pulling the flowers apart, as if he wanted to see how it was held together. After he had inspected it for five minutes he handed it back to Lottie, who immediately held it close to her face and began to inhale the rich perfume afforded by the rare flowers.
“Oh! Edward,” she exclaimed as she let the bouquet fall to the ground, “the scent of those flowers has made me sick, and I must request you to take me aboard the boat as soon as you can.”
“Darling, are you very ill! Your cheeks have suddenly turned deadly pale! What is the matter?”
“I do not know, Edward. I never experienced such a strange feeling before. My throat and lungs feel as if they were full of burning fire, and my head is as light as air! You will have to carry me to my room immediately, for I do not believe I could walk a step unsupported.”
“Mrs. Demar,” said Doctor Plaxico, as he held his fingers on her pulse, “have you ever been subject to any sudden attacks of illness before?”
“I have never been ill at all but one time during the last ten years.”
“If you feel able to talk, I would be glad if you would give me a minute description of the first symptoms of the attack.”
“I was in perfect health when we went on shore – never felt better in my life. Edward purchased a large, handsome bouquet and gave it to me, and I buried my face among the fragrant flowers, inhaling the sweet odor until I was seized with a sudden faintness, and would have fallen to the ground, but Edward caught me in time to prevent it. Then my throat and lungs began to burn with an intolerable heat, and have been growing worse every moment. Oh! Edward, can you not give me something to quench this blazing fire in my lungs? You know I am not childish, or in the habit of complaining at trifles, but I cannot endure this intolerable suffering!”
“Plaxico, for Heaven’s sake give her something to stop her sufferings!” exclaimed Demar, as he knelt down by the bedside, wringing his hands in despair.
Plaxico made no reply to Demar’s request – in fact, he seemed to be perplexed, and full of hesitation, which was an unusual thing with him, for he generally acted promptly, and with energy.
“Doctor Plaxico,” said Demar, “do you know what is the matter with my wife?”
“No.”
“Have you no means by which you can ascertain the nature of her disease?”
“No.”
“Have you no suspicions as to the cause of her sudden illness?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me then what you suspect.”
“I shall not do it without further investigation.”
“Oh, Edward,” exclaimed Lottie, as she tore the lace collar from her neck, “do, pray, give me something to cool my throat – I cannot endure this horrible torture much longer!”
She tore away the fastenings that confined the dress about her throat, and began to tear the skin with her finger nails, until the blood commenced to gush out.
“Plaxico,” exclaimed Demar indignantly, “I am sorry to say that your conduct on this awful occasion is to me inexplicable, and, I might say, inexcusable. Are you going to sit here with folded hands and see my darling die, without making an effort to save her?”
“By Heaven! I would gladly give my life to save her!”
“Why not give her an opiate?”
“Because I am afraid.”
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I say.”
“Doctor Plaxico, for Heaven’s sake have pity on me, and quit speaking in riddles!”
“I am not dealing in riddles – I do not know what is the matter with your wife.”
“Can you not suggest some harmless drug that would afford temporary relief?”
“Demar, why do you stare at me that way?”
“I am full of astonishment to witness such a lack of self-confidence in one possessing such unlimited knowledge of medical science as I know you do.”
It did not require the eye of science to see that death would soon step in to relieve the sufferer, unless she could be speedily relieved by other means. This fact was now patent to Edward Demar, who was so completely crazed with grief that he sank down by Lottie, and gave way to despair.
“Oh! Edward!” cried Lottie as she threw out both arms as if she were feeling for him, “where are you? I do believe I am going blind, for I cannot see you.”
Lottie was then seized with a frightful spasm that lasted five or six minutes, which, when it passed off, left her in a state of exhaustion. Her hands and feet became icy cold, while her throat and lungs were burning up with unnatural heat.
Captain Quitman, who had just heard of Lottie’s dangerous illness, came hurriedly into the room to make inquiries.
“How is she?”
“Bad enough. She will die inside of two hours unless a radical change sets in very soon.”
“Great Providence forbid!” exclaimed the kind-hearted man. “What is the matter with her?”
“Don’t know.”
“Have you never seen any one afflicted as she is?”
“Yes.”
“Why not try the same remedies now that you did then?”
“Because that other patient died.”
“What was the matter with the patient whose symptoms resembled these?”
“Poison.”
The old captain leaped over two chairs, dashing them to the other side of the room, and seizing Plaxico by both shoulders, fairly lifted him off of the floor, letting him down with a slam; then in a thundering tone exclaimed:
“Plaxico, by the great Jupiter, tell me what you mean!”
“I mean what I say.”
“See here, doctor, do you intend to insinuate that one of my passengers has been poisoned?”
“No, I insinuate nothing, for I know nothing.”
The old captain then rushed out of the room and hurried toward the cook house to have an interview with the steward, knocking over a dozen chairs as he went, and jostling a group of ladies who attempted to intercept him with a view of inquiring about Lottie.
“Dying, I believe,” he muttered, as he elbowed his way among the anxious crowd.
Lottie’s mind began to wander, and she would converse about occurrences that had transpired in the days of her childhood.
She suddenly regained her reason, and began to call for her husband.
“Here I am, darling; what can I do to relieve you?”
“Nothing, Edward; oh! I do not want to die now, because I have so much to live for. I am not afraid to die, but I was so happy with my darling that I wanted to remain with him; but if it is God’s will that I shall be taken away from him, I must not rebel.”
The lady in the black domino now came dashing into the room, and fell on her knees by the bedside and burst into a violent fit of weeping. Her conduct was so violent and mysterious that it filled the minds of all with wonder, and caused Doctor Plaxico to whisper a request to Demar to have her removed.
Captain Burk now made his appearance at the door, and requested an interview with Plaxico.
The doctor passed through the door and taking the captain’s arm, went with him out on the guards.
“Doctor Plaxico,” said Burk, “do you know what is the matter with Mrs. Demar?”
“No.”
“Have you no suspicions?”
“Yes.”
“Have you any objections to telling me what you suspect?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it would do no good, and might do much harm.”
“Would you be surprised if I were to guess exactly what you suspect?”
“Indeed, I would.”
“I have a suspicion myself, and I propose that we both write down what we suspect and then compare notes, with the distinct understanding that this transaction is to remain a profound secret between us.”
“Agreed.”
The two men turned their backs together and with pencils hurriedly wrote something on their memorandum books; then facing each other, Captain Burk handed his book to Plaxico.
“Poison!” exclaimed Plaxico.
“Poison!” cried Burk.
Then both men stared wildly at each other.
“What caused you to suspect that she was poisoned?” inquired Captain Burk.
“The peculiar symptoms,” was the prompt reply. “What aroused your suspicions?”
“My poor Newfoundland dog has just died from the effects of poison; or at least such is my belief.”
“What led you to such a conclusion?”
“When Mrs. Demar was so suddenly taken ill, we were dancing on the green turf, but we all immediately ceased dancing and returned to the boat; before I had reached the shore some one of the ladies called my attention to the beautiful bouquet which Mrs. Demar had dropped, and requested me to bring it aboard. I was then about thirty yards from the spot where the bouquet had been dropped, and pointing at it, I commanded Don to fetch it to me. He started instantly, running swiftly to the spot, seized the bouquet in his mouth and soon deposited it at my feet. It was but a moment after he had deposited the flowers at my feet, when he began to whine and reel, and in three minutes he was dead.”
“Merciful God! Captain Burk, some treacherous, double-damned villain has intentionally murdered that poor lady. Where is the bouquet?”
“In my state-room.”
“Go bring it here – quick!”
Burk returned instantly with the flowers.
“Now get me a dog, cat or any live animal that you can find, so we may make a test.”
A deck hand was found who had a worthless dog that he had been trying to hire some one to kill. The dog’s nose was forced deep into the body of the bouquet and held there three minutes, and three minutes afterward he was dead. Then such a panic spread among the passengers as to beggar all powers of description. Several ladies were precipitated into hysterical fits, while brave men, who had often faced death on the battle field unmoved by fear, now trembled like pale-faced cowards. What motive could any one have for murdering the most beautiful, the most charming woman aboard the boat? Suspicion soon began to point her finger at the lady in the black domino, while the matter was discussed in low whispers by the passengers. Meantime Lottie’s condition was growing worse rapidly, and the doctor declared that there were no grounds for hope. Despair and horror were visible on every face, while tears began to stream from the eyes of many strong men who did not often weep.
“Who is the abandoned wretch?” inquired George, as he elbowed his way through the crowd near the door; “I handled that bouquet, I buried my face among the flowers, and for at least twenty seconds enjoyed the fragrance, yet it did not poison me, which proves beyond doubt that the fatal drug was placed in it after I handled it.”
“Who was the last one to handle it before it was returned to Lottie?” exclaimed Captain Burk.
“The lady in the black domino,” replied Scottie.
“You are mistaken there, I think, Miss Darlington,” said George, “for it is my recollection that Napoleon was the one who returned the bouquet to Lottie. I remember distinctly that he held it in his hand a long while, and that he kept pulling the flowers apart as if desirous to see how it was held together.”
“It is a settled fact,” said Captain Quitman, “that the one who returned that bouquet to Mrs. Demar is the one that deposited the poison on it; and if that person can be pointed out, we may be able to detect the poisoner.”
When the fact that Mrs. Demar was poisoned was first announced by Doctor Plaxico, the lady in the black domino (who had been expelled from Lottie’s room a short time before) uttered a loud, piercing scream, and ran rapidly toward her own state-room.
“What on earth does that mean?” exclaimed Captain Burk as the woman came dashing past him.
“I would risk my life on her being the poisoner,” said Scottie. “She has just now heard Doctor Plaxico say that Lottie would be dead in less than two hours. I was present when the announcement was made, and as soon as that woman heard it she uttered the scream and dashed away. It was not a scream of distress, but it was a shout of joy. She is the very wretch who deposited the poison in that bouquet, and it is my opinion that she is in love with Demar, and that she has murdered Lottie to get her out of the way.”
“That is the most plausible theory I have heard mentioned in connection with this horrible affair,” said Captain Burk, “for I cannot believe that such a charming woman as Mrs. Demar could have an enemy except such as are made by the green-eyed monster.”