Within the Law | Page 3

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This etext was prepared by Charles Keller.

WITHIN THE LAW BY MARVIN DANA
FROM THE PLAY OF BAYARD VEILLER

CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
The Panel of Light II. A Cheerful Prodigal III. Only Three Years IV.
Kisses and Kleptomania V. The Victim of the Law VI. Inferno VII.
Within the Law VIII. A Tip from Headquarters X. A Legal Document
X. Marked Money XI. The Thief XII. A Bridegroom Spurned XIII. The

Advent of Griggs XIV. A Wedding Announcement XV. Aftermath of
Tragedy XVI. Burke Plots XVII. Outside the Law XVIII. The
Noiseless Death XIX. Within the Toils XX. Who Shot Griggs? XXI.
Aggie at Bay XXII. The Trap That Failed XXIII. The Confession
XXIV. Anguish and Bliss
CHAPTER I.
THE PANEL OF LIGHT
The lids of the girl's eyes lifted slowly, and she stared at the panel of
light in the wall. Just at the outset, the act of seeing made not the least
impression on her numbed brain. For a long time she continued to
regard the dim illumination in the wall with the same passive fixity of
gaze. Apathy still lay upon her crushed spirit. In a vague way, she
realized her own inertness, and rested in it gratefully, subtly fearful lest
she again arouse to the full horror of her plight. In a curious
subconscious fashion, she was striving to hold on to this deadness of
sensation, thus to win a little respite from the torture that had exhausted
her soul.
Of a sudden, her eyes noted the black lines that lay across the panel of
light. And, in that instant, her spirit was quickened once again. The
clouds lifted from her brain. Vision was clear now. Understanding
seized the full import of this hideous thing on which she looked.... For
the panel of light was a window, set high within a wall of stone. The
rigid lines of black that crossed it were bars--prison bars. It was still
true, then: She was in a cell of the Tombs.
The girl, crouching miserably on the narrow bed, maintained her fixed
watching of the window--that window which was a symbol of her utter
despair. Again, agony wrenched within her. She did not weep: long ago
she had exhausted the relief of tears. She did not pace to and fro in the
comfort of physical movement with which the caged beast finds a
mocking imitation of liberty: long ago, her physical vigors had been
drained under stress of anguish. Now, she was well-nigh incapable of
any bodily activity. There came not even so much as the feeblest moan

from her lips. The torment was far too racking for such futile fashion of
lamentation. She merely sat there in a posture of collapse. To all
outward seeming, nerveless, emotionless, an abject creature. Even the
eyes, which held so fixedly their gaze on the window, were quite
expressionless. Over them lay a film, like that which veils the eyes of
some dead thing. Only an occasional languid motion of the lids
revealed the life that remained.
So still the body. Within the soul, fury raged uncontrolled. For all the
desolate calm of outer seeming, the tragedy of her fate was being acted
with frightful vividness there in memory. In that dreadful remembrance,
her spirit was rent asunder anew by realization of that which had
become her portion.... It was then, as once again the horrible injustice
of her fate racked consciousness with its tortures, that the seeds of
revolt were implanted in her heart. The thought of revenge gave to her
the first meager gleam of comfort that had lightened her moods through
many miserable days and nights. Those seeds of revolt were to be
nourished well, were to grow into their flower--a poison flower,
developed through the three years of convict life to which the judge had
sentenced her.
The girl was appalled by the mercilessness of a destiny that had so
outraged right. She was wholly innocent of having done any wrong.
She had struggled through years of privation to keep herself clean and
wholesome, worthy of those gentlefolk from whom she drew