The Bronze Hand | Page 3

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 be, and doubtless are, rings of forged steel of peculiar workmanship. If there is one on the middle finger, my cause is lost, and I can only await the end." Her cheek paled. "But if there is not, you may be sure that an attempt will be made by some one to-morrow--I do not know whom--to put one there before the office closes at noon.