CHAPTER XXII.
BREAKING THE SPELL.
It was more than an hour from the time Mr. Dainty and Florence left to go in search of Mrs. Jeckyl, before they returned, bringing the woman with them. During all that period not a sign of life, beyond a feeble heart-beat, did Madeline exhibit. Mrs. Dainty was almost wild with distress, and sat over her child, weeping and wringing her hands. Agnes was calmer, but in deep grief; while Uncle John moved about the chamber in which Madeline lay, as restless as an unshrived ghost. Adele sat by the bedside, her face bent down, and hidden from view. Occasionally Uncle John or Mr. Dainty would ask her a question. Then she would look up, exhibiting a pale countenance, and answer in a low voice that was touchingly sad.
Many times had both the mother and Mr. Fleetwood renewed their efforts to break the fearful spell that lay upon the unconscious child. An age of suspense they endured until Mr. Dainty’s return.
At last a carriage was heard at the door. Uncle John went to the window.
“They have come!” he said, greatly excited, as he saw Mr. Dainty step to the pavement. “There is an officer!” he added. “And there is Mrs. Jeckyl! Oh, the wretch! yet how glad I am to see her!”
Breathless expectation followed. Adele arose from her place by the bedside, and shrunk away into a remote part of the room; while Agnes came nearer to Madeline, and laid her hand upon her. The mingled sounds of voices and footsteps were heard along the passage and on the stairs, and then the chamber-door opened, and Mr. Dainty entered, followed by Mrs. Jeckyl, the officer, and Florence.
On the stern face of the woman sat a dark, defiant scowl. She looked at Mrs. Dainty, at Agnes, and at Uncle John, with unflinching eyes, but did not speak. Quick glances were then thrown about the room, and Adele, half hidden by one of the window-curtains, was only partially seen, but not recognised.
“For what purpose am I here?” she asked, looking at Mr. Dainty.
“Simply to undo your evil work,” he replied. “You see that child?” and he pointed to the bed.
Mrs. Jeckyl turned her eyes upon the form of Madeline, though scarcely moving her head.
“Well, what of her?” she spoke, very coldly.
“She lies there wholly insensible, as you can see.”
“I am not a physician,” the woman retorted, with a sneer. “Why don’t you send for your doctor?”
“Right for once!” said Uncle John. “Why was not that thought of before?” And he went quickly from the room, and gave direction to one of the servants to go with all possible speed for the doctor.
“This is your work, as we are told,” Mr. Dainty replied, in answer to Mrs. Jeckyl’s remark. “And you are here to unbind what you have bound. And I pray you, in Heaven’s name, to do it speedily!”
Mrs. Jeckyl laughed a low, gurgling, malignant laugh.
“You give me credit for more than I claim,” said she. “I know nothing of your child. If she is sick, call in your physician, as I have already suggested.”
At this moment there was a sudden rustling of the window-curtain, and Adele came forward into the room, her eyes fixed steadily on the face of Mrs. Jeckyl, and her young lips compressed and resolute.
“You do know something of the child.” She spoke out boldly. “For you brought her to my mother’s house. Her present condition is the work of your hands, and you can restore her in a moment if you will.”
Mrs. Jeckyl’s countenance grew almost livid with rage; and she glared at Adele, as if seeking to blast her with her burning eyes. But the young girl stood without a quailing glance, and looked up steadily into her face.
“It is as I say, and you know it.” There was no sign of fear or embarrassment in the voice of the brave young girl.
“Then act quickly!” said Mr. Dainty.
“Oh, Mrs. Jeckyl, help us if you can! Break the spell that rests on our dear child!” Mrs. Dainty clasped her hands and spoke imploringly.
But the woman stirred not from the place where she stood.
“She can do it if she will.” It was Adele who spoke, and her voice was clear and confident.
Mrs. Jeckyl again scowled upon her, like a wild animal at bay.
“I have sent for the doctor,” said Mr. Fleetwood, returning to the room where the excited family stood hovering around the bed on which Madeline lay. “We were simpletons not to have done this before. My faith is stronger in him than in this impostor. It will be found, I think, that Madeline’s unnatural sleep is the effect of some drug, or of fright, or injury.”
A grim smile parted the lips of Mrs. Jeckyl.
“She can bring her to in a moment, if she will,” persisted Adele. “I’ve seen such things done many, many times.”
“No one asked you for information,” said Mrs. Jeckyl, turning in an excited manner toward the girl.
“This is mere trifling,” spoke out the police-officer, sternly, and he advanced to the side of Mrs. Jeckyl. “Why was she brought here?” And he looked toward Mr. Dainty.
“To remove from this child the spell she has cast upon her through some infernal art.”
“So I understood. Very well, madam, let it be done at once.”
Mrs. Jeckyl stood, in evident debate with herself, for some moments.
“If I do as you desire, what then?” She addressed Mr. Dainty.
“Quick! quick! Mrs. Jeckyl!” now broke in Mrs. Dainty. “Oh, save my child! She will die! Break this terrible sleep!”
“I will do it only on one condition,” said the woman.
“Name it,” replied Mr. Dainty.
“I am now in the hands of an officer?”
“You are; and arrested on the serious charge of child-stealing.”
“The condition is this: that I be permitted to leave your house, and that no effort be made to arrest me after my departure.”
“Make no conditions with her,” spoke out Mr. Fleetwood.
“As you like,” answered the woman, coldly.
“I am not sure that I can make conditions now,” said Mr. Dainty. “You are already in the hands of the law.”
“Then I will not touch your child. She may sleep until the day of doom, for me! And she will sleep until I choose to awaken her.”
“Wretch! Fiend! Devil!” ejaculated Uncle John, moving about the room, greatly excited.
“Thank you!” said Mrs. Jeckyl, with a quiet sneer.
Mr. Dainty now drew the police-officer aside, and held a low, hurried conversation with him.
“Restore this child, if it is in your power to do so,” said the latter, turning from Mr. Dainty and approaching Mrs. Jeckyl.
“Only on the terms I have stated,” replied the woman, resolutely.
“I will suffer you to depart from here alone.”
“That will not do. I must have an honorable pledge that no attempt will be made to arrest me after I leave.”
“I shall make no attempt, but simply report what has been done,” said the officer. “If the Chief of Police again issues orders for your arrest, they will be obeyed.”
The woman thought for some moments.
“I may depart at will?” she said, looking from the officer to Mr. Dainty.
“Yes.” Both replied.
She moved to the bedside, uncovered the face of Madeline, and stood for nearly a minute gazing down upon it. All was still as death in the room, and hearts beat in muffled measure. Repressed excitement was intense. Then the woman laid her hands upon the child’s temples, and held them there almost a minute longer, then took both of her hands and clasped them within her own, seemingly to impart the warmth of her own body. After that she began a few slow, upward passes, which were gradually increased in rapidity. A slight convulsive start was the first sign of returning animation; a shudder next ran through the child’s frame; then she moaned plaintively. The anxious group, now bending around the bed, held their breaths. Mrs. Dainty was close beside Mrs. Jeckyl, and the face of Florence Harper hung over Madeline, a little way from that of the necromancer. Now there came the flush of quickening pulses into the child’s face; now its expression began changing to one more pleasant to look upon; now a feeble smile played around the arching lips; and now the lids unclosed, opening slowly, as if just overcoming the pressure of a sweet slumber, and revealing the bright blue eyes beneath.
At this instant the face of Mrs. Jeckyl was withdrawn.
“Mother! Oh, mother! Dear mother!” said Madeline, stretching up her arms and clasping the neck of Mrs. Dainty, who in turn threw her arms around the child, caressing her in the wildest manner, and almost devouring her with kisses.
“Be calm, Madeline, for Heaven’s sake!” whispered Uncle John in the ears of his niece.
“Oh, I have had such a terrible dream!” said Madeline, sobbing, her face still hidden in her mother’s bosom.
“All leave the room but Florence and her mother,” said Mr. Fleetwood, in a whisper. “This crowd will only excite her mind. If she thinks it all a dream for the present, so much the better.”
Acting on this hint, all retired but Florence and Mrs. Dainty. Mrs. Jeckyl was not with them. She had already glided from the chamber, passed down the stairs, and was now hurrying away from the house with footsteps quickened by fear. The officer kept his word, and permitted her to escape.