The Bronze Hand | Page 3

admission that it was no lover's
keepsake I was urged to recapture and return, I allowed the powerful
individuality of this woman to have its full effect upon me. Taking in
with one glance her beauty, the impassioned fervor of her nature, and
the subtle charm of a spirit she now allowed to work its full spell upon
me, I threw every practical consideration to the winds, and impetuously
replied:
"I will endeavor to regain this ring for you. Tell me where to go, and
whom to attack, and if human wit and strength can compass it, you
shall have the jewel back before morn-ing.
"Oh!" she protested, "I see that you anticipate a task of small difficulty.
You cannot recover this particular ring so easily as that. In the first
place, I do not in the least know who took it; I only know its destination.
Alas! if it is allowed to reach that destination, I am bereft of hope."

"No love token," I murmured, "and yet your whole peace depends on
its recovery."
"More than my peace," she answered; and with a quick movement she
closed the door which I had left open behind me. As its sharp bang rang
through the room, I realized into what a pitfall I had stumbled. Only a
political intrigue of the most desperate character could account for the
words I had heard and the actions to which I had been a witness. But I
was in no mood to recoil even from such dangers as these, and so my
look showed her as she leaned toward me with the words:
"Listen! I am burdened with a secret. I am in this house, in this city, for
a purpose. The secret is not my own and I cannot part with it; neither is
my purpose communicable. You therefore will be obliged to deal with
the greatest dangers blindfold. One encouragement only I can give you.
You will work for good ends. You are pitted against wrong, not right,
and if you succumb, it will be in a cause you yourself would call noble.
Do I make myself understood, Mr.--Mr. ------"
"Abbott," I put in, with a bow.
She took the bow for an affirmative, as indeed I meant she should.
"You do not recoil," she murmured, "not even when I say that you must
take no third party into your confidence, no matter to what extremity
you are brought."
"I would not be the man I think I am, if I recoiled," I said, smiling.
She waved her hand with almost a stern air.
"Swear!" she commanded; "swear that, from the moment you leave this
door till you return to it, you will breathe no word concerning me, your
errand, or even the oath I am now exacting from you."
"Ah!" thought I to myself, "this is serious." But I took the oath under
the spell of the most forceful personality I had ever met, and did not
regret it--then.

"Now let us waste no more time," said she.
"In the large building on ------ Street there is an office with the name of
Dr. Merriam on the door. See! I have written it on this card, so that
there may be no mistake about it. That office is open to patients from
ten in the morning until twelve at noon. During these hours any one can
enter there; but to awaken no distrust, he should have some ailment.
Have you not some slight disorder concerning which you might consult
a physician?"
"I doubt it," said I; "but I might manufacture one."
"That would not do with Dr. Merriam. He is a skilful man; he would
see through any imposture."
"I have a sick friend," I ruminated. "And by the way, his case is
obscure and curious. I could interest any doctor in it in five minutes."
"That is good; consult him in regard to your friend; meantime--while
you are waiting for the interview, I mean--take notice of a large box
you will find placed on a side-table. Do not seem to fix your attention
on it, but never let it be really out of your sight from the moment the
door is unlocked at ten till you are forced by the doctor's importunity to
leave the room at twelve. If you are alone there for one minute (and you
will be allowed to remain there alone if you show no haste to consult
the doctor) unlock that box--here is the key--and look carefully inside.
No one will interfere and no one will criticize you; there is more than
one person who has access to that box."
"But--" I put in.
"You will discover there," she whispered, "a hand of bronze lying on an
enamelled cushion. On the fingers of this hand there should