Free Manly Wade Wellman - Judge Pursuivant 01 by The Hairy Ones Shall Dance (v1.1) Page B

             I fairly sprang to my feet, dropping my book
upon the desk. She advanced slowly into the room, her pale face grave but
friendly. I saw that her eyes were darkly circled, and that her cheeks showed
gaunt, as if with strain and weariness. She put out a hand, and I took it.
                   "A message?" I repeated William's words.
                   "Why, yes." She achieved a smile,
and I was glad to see it, for both our sakes. "Judge Pursuivant got me to
one side and said for me to come here. You and I are to talk the thing
over."
                   "You mean, last night?" She nodded,
and I asked further, "How did you get here?"
                   "Your car. I
don't drive very well, but I managed."
                   I asked her to sit down and talk.
                   She told me that she remembered being in the
parlor, with Constable O'Bryant questioning me. At the time she had had
difficulty remembering even the beginning of the seance, and it was not until I
had been taken away that she came to realize what had happened to her father.
That, of course, distressed and distracted her further, and even now the whole
experience was wretchedly hazy to her.
                   "I do recall sitting down with you,"
she said finally, after I had urged her for the twentieth time to think hard.
"You chained me, yes, and Doctor Zoberg. Then yourself. Finally I seemed to float away, as if in a dream. I'm not even sure about how
long it was."
                   "Had the light been out very long?"
I asked craftily.
                   "The light out?" she echoed,
patently mystified. "Oh, of course. The light was
turned out, naturally. I don't remember, but I suppose you attended to
that."
                   "I asked to try you," I confessed.
"I didn't touch the lamp until after you had seemed to drop ofl'to
sleep."
                   She did recall to memory her father's protest
at his manacles, and Doctor Zoberg's gentle inquiry if she were ready. That was
all.
                   "How is Doctor Zoberg?" I asked her.
                   "Not very well, I'm afraid. He was
exhausted by the experience, of course, and for a time seemed ready to break
down. When the trouble began about you - the crowd gathered at the town hall -
he gathered his strength and went out, to see if he could help defend or rescue
you. He was gone about an hour and then he returned, bruised about the face.
Somebody of the mob had handled him roughly, I think. He's resting at our place
now, with a hot compress on his eye."
                   "Good man!" I applauded. "At
least he did his best for me."
                   She was not finding much pleasure in her
memories, however, and I suggested a change of the subject. We had lunch
together, egg sandwiches and coffee, then played
several hands of casino. Tiring of that, we turned to the books and she read
aloud to me from Keats. Never has The Eve of St. Agnes sounded better to me.
Evening fell, and we were preparing to take yet another meal - a meat pie,
which William assured us was one of his culinary
triumphs - when the door burst open and Judge Pursuivant came in.
                   "You've been together all the time?"
he asked us at once.
                   "Why, yes," I said.
                   "Is that correct, Miss Susan? You've been
in the house, every minute?"
                   "That is right," she seconded me.
                   "Then," said the
judge. "You two are cleared, at last."
                   He paused, looking
from Susan's questioning face to mine, then went on:
                   "That rending beast-thing in the Croft
got another victim, not more than half an hour ago. O'Bryant was feeling
better, ready to get back on duty. His deputy-brother, anxious to get hold of
Wills first,