Initials Only | Page 2

the man rose and hurried away from us down the street,
"I should like to follow him. I do believe--"
But here we became aware of a quick rush and sudden clamour around
the corner we had just left, and turning quickly, saw that something had
occurred on Broadway which was fast causing a tumult.
"What's the matter?" I cried. "What can have happened? Let's go see,
George. Perhaps it has something to do with our man."
My husband, with a final glance down the street at the fast disappearing
figure, yielded to my importunity, and possibly to some new curiosity
of his own.
"I'd like to stop that man first," said he. "But what excuse have I? He
may be nothing but a crank, with some crack-brained idea in his head.
We'll soon know; for there's certainly something wrong there on
Broadway."
"He came out of the Clermont," I suggested.
"I know. If the excitement isn't there, what we've just seen is simply a
coincidence." Then, as we retraced our steps to the corner "Whatever

we hear or see, don't say anything about this man. It's after eight,
remember, and we promised Adela that we would be at the house
before nine."
"I'll be quiet."
"Remember."
It was the last word he had time to speak before we found ourselves in
the midst of a crowd of men and women, jostling one another in
curiosity or in the consternation following a quick alarm. All were
looking one way, and, as this was towards the entrance of the Clermont,
it was evident enough to us that the alarm had indeed had its origin in
the very place we had anticipated. I felt my husband's arm press me
closer to his side as we worked our way towards the entrance, and
presently caught a warning sound from his lips as the oaths and
confused cries everywhere surrounding us were broken here and there
by articulate words and we heard:
"Is it murder?"
"The beautiful Miss Challoner!"
"A millionairess in her own right!"
"Killed, they say."
"No, no! suddenly dead; that's all."
"George, what shall we do?" I managed to cry into my husband's ear.
"Get out of this. There is no chance of our reaching that door, and I
can't have you standing round any longer in this icy slush."
"But--but is it right?" I urged, in an importunate whisper. "Should we
go home while he--"
"Hush! My first duty is to you. We will go make our visit; but
to-morrow--"

"I can't wait till to-morrow," I pleaded, wild to satisfy my curiosity in
regard to an event in which I naturally felt a keen personal interest.
He drew me as near to the edge of the crowd as he could. There were
new murmurs all about us.
"If it's a case of heart-failure, why send for the police?" asked one.
"It is better to have an officer or two here," grumbled another.
"Here comes a cop."
"Well, I'm going to vamoose."
"I'll tell you what I'll do," whispered George, who, for all his bluster
was as curious as myself. "We will try the rear door where there are
fewer persons. Possibly we can make our way in there, and if we can,
Slater will tell us all we want to know."
Slater was the assistant manager of the Clermont, and one of George's
oldest friends.
"Then hurry," said I. "I am being crushed here."
George did hurry, and in a few minutes we were before the rear
entrance of the great hotel. There was a mob gathered here also, but it
was neither so large nor so rough as the one on Broadway. Yet I doubt
if we should have been able to work our way through it if Slater had
not, at that very instant, shown himself in the doorway, in company
with an officer to whom he was giving some final instructions. George
caught his eye as soon as he was through with the man, and ventured
on what I thought a rather uncalled for plea.
"Let us in, Slater," he begged. "My wife feels a little faint; she has been
knocked about so by the crowd."
The manager glanced at my face, and shouted to the people around us
to make room. I felt myself lifted up, and that is all I remember of this
part of our adventure. For, affected more than I realised by the

excitement of the event, I no sooner saw the way cleared for our
entrance than I made good my husband's words by fainting away in
earnest.
When I came to, it was suddenly and with perfect recognition of my
surroundings. The small reception room to which I had been taken was
one I had often visited, and its familiar features did not hold