Part 12

We were interrupted then, by Miss Fielding's appearance--I dare not call her Edna, lest one forgets that in almost every outward aspect she was unchanged. Indeed, had her body, instead of her mind, been metamorphosed, I think it would have been easier to adjust one's self to the strangeness of it. But Edna's words and Edna's actions constantly gave the lie to Joy's voice and Joy's face. One could not even treat her as insane. It was definitely another person in masquerade. My soul went out to her at the sight, to return chilled at the revelation of that strangeness. I was constantly being tricked by my memory. When I had become so interested in the conversation as not to notice her appearance it was easy enough to feel that I was talking to quite another than Joy, but upon my first sight of her, or when, after having looked away for a while my eyes returned suddenly to her, the surprise of Edna's words coming from Joy's lips gave me a shock. But with all this I had begun to accept Edna as a perversion, a distortion of Joy's self, rather than as a separate individuality, and I was caring too much for Joy, now, not to witness the working of the spell without a constant, fiery protest in my heart.

After our first greetings Leah disappeared, and we went into the dining-room. Edna sat opposite me at the table as I breakfasted, her elbows on the cloth, her chin on the backs of her clasped hands, looking at me.

"Well," she began, "I've forgotten again, Chet."

I wondered what was coming. She seemed more absorbed, more introspective than usual, for what of this phase she had heretofore manifested had appeared usually later in the day. She watched me, too, with a curious intentness.

"But you're not so bad as you have been," I offered. "You know you only lost a day, this time."

"No, I'm getting hold of myself, I believe. The doctor is helping me, I'm sure. I used to lose four or five days every week."

"I congratulate you!" I said, falsely enough, I confess. But I must at any cost placate her.

"How was I yesterday, Chet?"

"What d'you mean?"

"How did I act? What did I do? Was I very different from what I am to-day, for instance? Tell me all about it!"

This staggered me. She had never betrayed so much curiosity before; she had always taken her lapses in her careless, thoughtless way, without much question. I saw Leah in the kitchen stop and listen, her lips parted, showing her white teeth.

"You were very lovely--as usual!" I said.

"I'm glad you found me so, Chet. You've never said that before, you know!"

"Well, I've thought so, often enough!"

"Did you like me any better than you usually do, then?" she insisted, keeping her eyes on mine.

"Oh, there are some times when I don't quite approve of you, I confess."

"When, Chet?"

"When you abuse the dogs--or Leah." Leah disappeared.

"But they abuse me, too, horrid things!" she complained peevishly. "And I can't for the life of me see why you're so fond of Leah. She's a great trial to me. I'm only keeping her on, now, on your account, and if you scold me, I'll be sorry I did."

"Oh, I'm not going to scold you. You're too charming."

"As charming as I was yesterday?"

"Almost." I hated myself for saying it.

"What did we do yesterday? You haven't told me yet."

"Why, we talked, mostly. We sat up in your study all the afternoon, and in the evening we played chess."

"Played chess? I must have played pretty badly!"

"Oh, no! In fact, you gave me a hard fight and beat me."

"Chess is stupid, though. I'd rather talk. What did we talk about?"

"Oh, about you, mostly."

"Did you make love to me?"

"No."

"Why not, if I was so very much nicer than usual?"

Her deliberate misquotation, a common enough feminine trait, was characteristic of Edna's newly acquired mental agility, but in addition I perceived that there was something behind even that. It was something new for her to proceed so categorically. It embarrassed me not a little, and yet I could not quite bring myself to lie to her outright, even to throw her off the track. It was almost impossible when I looked her straight in the face--Joy's face--nor, of course, could I reveal anything of what had really happened.

"Oh," I said, "you're very nice now, but I'm not making love to you, you see."

She further disconcerted me by saying, "Why not?"

There was nothing to do now but to carry the war into Africa.

"Because Doctor Copin seems to have that right--or privilege," I gave her boldly, making a good deal of it by my tone.

"Doctor Copin is very nice indeed to me; indeed, he's nicer than you are to me, Chet. He tells me things that you won't, and he's helping me to get my memory back. Why don't you help me?"

"How can I help?" I asked.

"Tell me how I was different yesterday, if I was different. Was I different toward him?"

"Of course, I don't know how you've been in the habit of treating him before I came."

"Well, how did he treat _me_, then?"

"Oh, you'd better ask _him_ about that! But," I added, to try her, "I think he's undoubtedly in love with you."

"And you're not? For shame, Chet!" She looked demurely at me, as if merely to impugn my taste. "He's not nearly so nice as you, Chet," she continued, "but he does treat me better. He's done a great deal for me, and, if I ever do get well, it will be through his advice."

"What does he do? How does he treat you--can you tell me?"

"Why, he hypnotizes me, you know. I told you that before."

"And gives you suggestions, I suppose?"

"I don't know what you mean. I just go to sleep, and after a while I wake up again. He hasn't been able to do it till quite lately, and I don't understand it very well, anyway. I don't care, so long as I recover. He says I'm a remarkably interesting case."

"So you are, Edna, most assuredly," I replied. "You would be, even if you were all right."

"Thank you for that. I'll put down one good mark to your credit. But tell me--was I pretty yesterday, Chet?" She looked up at me earnestly under her brows.

"Very pretty--beautiful!"

"Was I clever, too?"

"Very!"

"More than usual? More pretty and more clever than I am to-day?"

Wishing to see what she was driving at, I risked a chance shot. "Yes," I said.

"Oh, I _hate_ you!" she cried, and she got up in a pet and threw herself out of the room, scowling.

I hurried after to propitiate her, but she was already outdoors. I overtook her in the lane and tried to take her hand and get her back, but she flung away from me and walked on without answering me. Giving up the chase, I returned to the library, very sorry to have aroused her temper. I knew I should have lied to her for Joy's sake, for the sake of peace, for the sake of final victory.

I was pretty well convinced, by this time, that Edna's eyes were opened, and she knew what was going on. She must undoubtedly have been informed by the doctor the day before. That would account for her behavior at dinner and in the evening. For the first time in her life, she had become aware that, during those lapses when she lost days at a time, some one else lived for her, animating the same body. If, as I was not too modest to imagine, she cared for me, the reason for her anger was evident. Edna was now probably definitely pitted against Joy in the conflict that was doubtless already on. I was determined, therefore, to bring the thing to a crisis, that we might, at least, know where we stood.

I had not been alone fifteen minutes when I saw Leah approaching the house. She was sobbing, her head bent down, her handkerchief to her eyes. I ran out to meet her, my heart in my mouth.

She stopped and told me, trembling convulsively as she spoke, that while on the way with a broom to the cabin, intending to make it fit for temporary occupancy, Edna had met her and questioned her. At Leah's attempt to conceal the truth, Edna, who was already in an angry mood, burst into a fury and struck Leah across the face with such force that her cheek was badly cut, inside, by her teeth. The revolver had dropped from Leah's pocket; Edna had picked it up, accused Leah of stealing it, and had gone on down the lane.

"Oh!" Leah cried passionately, "I don't care how much she hurt me--she's not responsible, I'm sure--but I'm afraid that now she'll send me away again. Then what will become of Miss Joy? If she'll strike me, she'll do worse. If we don't do something pretty soon, it will be too late!"

"You must keep out of sight as much as possible for the rest of the day," I said, "especially as the doctor will probably come down. If we could only prevent that!" At the words, an idea occurred to me. "What train does he usually come down on?"

"The ten o'clock from the city. He usually takes luncheon here."

"Then there's just time, perhaps, to catch him. Come up-stairs. I'm going to try to see if we can't find out something. It's a desperate chance, but I'll take it. The thing can't be much worse, even if we're found out."

We went up into the study and I called up the doctor's number. While we were waiting for it I gave Leah her instructions.

"Don't speak loud, just barely loud enough so that he may hear with difficulty, and let him do most of the talking. Pitch your voice as high as you can. Ask him what train he's coming down on. I'll take the receiver and listen, and tell you what else to say."

In a few minutes the bell rang and we were connected with the doctor's office. I heard him say, "Hello! Is that you, Miss Fielding?"

"Say 'yes,'" I whispered. Leah did so.

"Anything the matter?" he asked. Leah said "No."

"What did you want, then?" was his next question.

Leah put the question about the train.

"I'm going to take the ten. I'm starting right off. What's the matter with your voice? It sounds different, and it's so weak anyway, I can hardly hear it!"

I told Leah to say, "What?"

"Oh, never mind," he exclaimed impatiently. "There must be some trouble over the line. I'd never recognize your voice at all. Can you hear me plainly?"

"Yes," said Leah.

"Well, look out for Castle," he went on, "Don't let him know that you suspect anything, will you?"

"No," from Leah, at my prompting.

"He's trying to make trouble for you; and he will, if we don't look out. He's in love with _the other one_, and you'd better try and see if you can't get rid of him! Now, Edna!"

"Yes!" Leah again repeated my whispered word.

"Are you listening?"

"Yes."

"Are you listening?" Why was he repeating the question?

"Yes!"

"Are you listening?"

At this, I suspected a formula he might be using for some hypnotic suggestion. I whispered to Leah to say "Yes, yes," faintly.

"Meet me at the station, sure. You will come alone. Good-by!"

I hung up the receiver, pretty sure that he had not suspected the deception. I went down-stairs again, and as, by eleven o'clock Edna had not returned to the house, I had no doubt that she had gone to the station of her own volition to meet the doctor. This was fortunate, as, seeing her evidently in obedience to his suggestion, he might be less likely to question her about telephoning and thereby discover our ruse. I was, however, nervous at the prospect of meeting them. Leah could scarcely be kept if the trick were discovered; I should have hard work brazening it out myself.

At about noon I started down the north lane to meet them, and discover the state of affairs in time to let Leah know. Half-way to the road, however, I happened to recall what Uncle Jerdon had told me about seeing the two, the day we had broken down in the automobile. I decided to hide and see what I could discover--in a word, to spy upon them. I was by this time in no mood to be nice about my choice of weapons, and I took the first one that came to hand.

I had not waited long before I heard voices approaching, and I concealed myself behind a clump of bushes to watch. I was too far away to hear distinctly, and, in fact, they did very little talking--an occasional exclamation from her, and the doctor's nasal replies. My eyes told me more than my ears--enough to prove that, however Edna regarded me, the doctor also came in for considerable more of affectionate demonstration than I had suspected, and either he was not so conscientious as I had been, or he was actually in love with her. Their actions were those of acknowledged lovers. Why, then, had she flirted with me? Was her behavior now, perhaps, mere pique caused by the jealousy I had aroused in the way I had spoken of Joy?

I went in as luncheon was served. Edna met me a little coolly, the doctor more so. I was decidedly uncomfortable at being now a guest in a house where I was, perhaps, not wanted, but I pretended not to notice anything amiss, and endured my position as well as I could. The doctor ignored my presence completely, addressing all his dull witticisms to Edna, who laughed at them as usual, doing her best, now and then, to drag me into the conversation. She could not keep any one mood for long, however, and before the end of the meal I flattered myself that she would, after all, prefer being with me alone; but the doctor's pop-eyes held her, and his interminable foolery kept her whole attention concentrated upon him, despite herself. Nothing at all was said about the telephoning.

Directly after luncheon was over the two went up-stairs into the study, without even the formality of an apology to me. As Leah was busy about her own work, I strolled out into the kitchen to see King. He was washing the dishes, and greeted me with his customary cryptic grin.

"Say, King," I said, "you got a joss in your room?"

His grin grew wider. "Yep!" he ejaculated, nodding.

"You no Christian, then? You not go to Sunday-school?"

"Aw, no good go to Sunday-school--I can talk Melican all light. Chlistian joss no good for Chinaman. You think so?"

"I guess you're right," I said. "But do you worship your joss? You burn punk-stick sometime? You trim him up with paper flowers, maybe?"

He laughed to himself as if it were a great joke, but kept on washing his dishes like a machine. "You likee see my joss?" he said, looking back over his shoulder. "Heap good joss--velly old. I bling him flom China."

"What d'you pray for, King?"

"Aw, sometime one thing, sometime other thing. I play for good luck, allee same Chlistian. You play, too?"

"Oh, sometimes," I said. "But go on, tell me, King. When do you pray? You pray to-day?"

He shook his head. "Aw, no; no play yet. Play all time at night."

"What did you ask for last night, then? Come on, tell me!"

"Aw, no, no!" He shook his head, still laughing sillily.

"Money, King? I'll bet you prayed for money!"

"Aw, no, no! I tell you. I play for Miss Fielding."

I had stumbled upon a live wire! Instantly I was aroused, and careful to say no tactless word. What I had already got from him was an extraordinary amount for a Chinese of his caste to discover to a white man. So I went witfully to lead him on to tell me more.

"That's good, King; I pray for Miss Fielding, too. I want her to get well. Don't you?"

"Yep. She good lady, you bet. Maybe she get well, I dunno."

"What you think the matter with her, King? I'm worried about her."

He emptied his dish-water out, and wiped his hands first. Then he stopped suddenly and said:

"Miss Fielding, she got one no-good debbil on inside. You know? Sometime he heap bad, sometime he keep still. Plenty people have debbil in China; all time go pliest, he dlive 'em away easy."

"The priest drives the devils away, King! How does he do it?"

"Oh, flighten debbil, tha's all. Stlike gong, burn fire-clackers, make all time heap loud noise and debbil go away flighten'."

"I wish Miss Fielding could be cured as easy as that, King!"

For the first time during the conversation his grin disappeared. He came up to me, gesticulating.

"You likee flighten away debbil? Maybe I help you sometime?"

"Could you do it?" I laughed.

"Sure! Aw! you no think so?" He returned to wipe his dishes philosophically. I smiled at his earnestness and walked away.

I sat down in the library to wait till the doctor came down. I found that he would have to walk to the station, as Uncle Jerdon was away, and I determined to have another talk with him, if I could manage to see him alone. I had decided on a _coup d'etat_.

In a half-hour they reappeared, Edna showing traces of heaviness about her eyes, as if she had been asleep. The doctor looked at his watch, and found that he had just time to walk to the train. I offered to accompany him, and, though he appeared surprised, he assented with a good grace. Edna did not care to go with us. It seemed to me that she not only perceived the antagonism between the doctor and me, but fostered it for her own ends. It was as if we were fighting for her and she had decided to let the best man win. So we left her and started out.

I began as soon as we were round the turn of the lane.

"Doctor Copin," I said, "I wish you'd let me know exactly what Miss Fielding's condition is, and what hopes you have for her recovery."

"Did she ask you to interrogate me?" he asked blandly.

"In a way, she did. But I do so, nevertheless, quite on my own responsibility, as a friend who is very much interested in her case."

"Then I must decline to answer. You are aware, I suppose, that Miss Fielding has had her own reasons for not wishing the matter to be discussed?"

"I'm perfectly aware of that, but I think that, as I now know all the essential facts, it can't possibly matter to her. On the other hand, I can help, perhaps."

"I didn't know you were a specialist in nervous diseases--or even a psychologist," he answered in a sneering tone.

"I am neither, but I have common sense enough to perceive that her trouble is approaching a crisis. That, in fact, is my sole justification for staying on here."

"Oh, if that's all, you can go any time. I'm quite able to cope with the situation, I assure you."

"Doctor Copin, I insist upon having a statement of what you are doing in this matter. I speak as the representative of Miss Fielding--the real Miss Fielding."

He turned to me now with his thin lips drawn back, showing his even line of false teeth, in a cruel, selfish smile. "Insist?" he repeated. "You have hardly that right, whatever Miss Fielding has said."

"I certainly do have that right!" I maintained.

He stopped in his tracks and confronted me. "Why?" he demanded.

The time had come for me to play my bluff.

"Because I am engaged to Miss Fielding!" I announced curtly.

He scowled fiercely. "You are!" he retorted. "Very well, then, I have as good a right to refuse to answer you!"

It was my turn to say, "Why? What do you mean?"

"Because I am engaged to her myself. So there you are!" With that he walked off, leaving me standing, staring at him. I was literally bluffed to a standstill. I watched him striding down the lane in silence. I was in a labyrinth of thought. Then I turned slowly back toward the house and prepared for war. I should have to get it out of Edna, or give up and confess myself defeated.

As I walked up the lane I heard a rustling in the bushes, and peering through them, I saw Nokomis bounding along, her ears laid back, her brush trailing. She leaped down the bank a little way ahead of me and stood for a moment, pointing in the direction of the house. I called her, but she only turned her fine head for a moment, and then trotted on up the lane. I followed after her leisurely, preparing for my cross-examination of Edna.

Just before I came to the turn, I heard a quick, sharp yelp, and a woman's shrill cry. Then a shot rang out, echoing against the hillside. I ran round the bend at full speed.

There was Edna with a pistol smoking in her hand. In the path, in front of her, Nokomis lay dead. Leah, running up from the house, had stopped behind Edna, and stood horror-stricken, afraid to move. It was like the scene of a play.

I strode up. "What's happened?" I demanded.

Edna dropped the pistol to her side and looked down at the collie angrily.

"Nokomis tried to bite me," she said. "But she'll never try it again! I always thought she was dangerous."

"Give me that revolver!" I said sternly.

She met my look, shrinking a little, and handed over the weapon. I put it into my pocket. Leah retreated fearfully to the house.

First, I took Nokomis' body and carried it to a bed of ferns beside the path, patted her head and left her there till she could be buried. Then I took Edna's arm, gently, and led her away. She told me, a little frightened now at the impressiveness of my manner, that she had met Nokomis suddenly, and attempting to drive her away, the collie had snapped viciously at her. Edna had the revolver which she had taken from Leah earlier in the day, still in her jacket pocket, and, at the attack, had drawn it and fired immediately.

I had no reproaches for her--what was there to say? Even in speaking, she had recovered from her mood, and she became as blithe and inconsequent as if nothing had happened--the only effect apparent upon her was a whimsical pettishness at my implied rebuke. She began to attempt to cajole me childishly, patting my hand, looking saucily up into my face and pretending a sort of arch depreciation of her temper. It was evident that she was not at all sorry for what she had done; in fact, she seemed to be secretly altogether pleased at her prowess, though she covered it with considerable guile.

All the rest of the afternoon she was in an excited frame of mind. She treated me with all her former comradeship, but I could see that she was

## acting. It gave me a new insight into the rapidity of her development