THE APPEAL
Two weeks later the judge p.r.o.nounced the sentence of death. Again the dark figure was by the prisoner"s side, alert, erect, every faculty of mind and body at its highest tension, her cheeks aflame with defiance, her eyes gleaming with hidden fire.
She was sure the Court of Appeals would grant a new trial. She bade her beloved good-by at the gates of Sing Sing, and the door of the Chamber of Death closed upon him.
Day and night she worked with tireless energy. She systematically laid siege to the editors and owners of the papers in New York, and at last won every hostile critic by her patience, her beauty of character, and the infinite pathos of her love.
The moment sentence of death was p.r.o.nounced on Gordon, Kate sued for a divorce from him as a convicted felon, and it was granted.
The little dark woman became the toast of every hardened newspaper reporter who came in contact with her. The newsboys learned to recognise her from her pictures, and as she went in and out of the court-rooms and the lawyers" offices they would watch and wait for her, doff their dirty caps, smile, hand her a flower, and cry:
"She"s de queen!"
When Ruth saw the notice of Kate"s divorce, she asked her lawyers to arrange at once for her to remarry Gordon at Sing Sing.
The senior counsel shook his head.
"You must not dare, madam," he gravely said. "If we should not get a new trial, or fail on the second trial, the Governor at Albany is our only hope."
A wave of sickening terror swept Ruth"s soul. She recalled King"s strange reserve of the past months. His letters were kind and sympathetic, but there was something hidden between their lines that chilled her.
"We must not lose!" she answered, bitterly.
"I don"t think we will," the lawyer hastened to a.s.sure her. "But we must reserve every weapon."
The Court of Appeals decided in Gordon"s favour and ordered a new trial.
As the day approached, Ruth"s nervousness increased. His chances were better, but she could hear the awful words of Kate Ransom swearing away his life. Their echoes rang in her soul until she could no longer endure it.
She was at Gramercy Park at last.
When Kate swept proudly and coldly into the room, and extended her hand, she held it in her grasp timidly and nervously.
"I"ve come to beg you," she said, piteously, "not to say he made those wounds in his own breast. They fought a duel as men have often done. You were in a swoon. You thought he did it himself because he told you he was going to die with you. He did not hurt you. He only laid you tenderly on the lounge, smoothed your hair, kissed and left you. Surely you have brought me enough sorrow. Have pity on me!"
Kate led her to a seat and spoke with quiet decision. "I said what I believed to be the truth. I shall repeat it. I can feel his wild beast"s claws on my throat now in the night sometimes and wake with a scream."
"Ah, but he was mad," she cried, through her tears. "He is tender and gentle as a child. Surely you"--she paused and caught her breath--"who have slept with your head on his dear breast know this!"
"It is useless to talk to me," she answered, with anger. "He deserves to die. And it will be a good riddance for you, and for the world.
He was stirring the pa.s.sions of mobs that will yet make work for hangmen."
"But he is not on trial for this," she pleaded, "You should be the last to reproach him with it. Think of all the sacrifices for you--his career, his wife and children, his father, his friends.
Surely there is yet one spark of love for him in your heart?"
Kate shook her head.
"Then for my sake, I beg of you--you are a woman. You have loved.
Have mercy on me! You asked me once for help--did I fail you?"
The blond face softened.
"No, you didn"t. I"m sorry for you. If it were your life, I"d save it if I swore a thousand lies--but for him, the brute--I can feel him strangling me now--you have not felt his hands on your throat."
"No," said the soft contralto voice, "not on my throat; it would have been a relief to have felt them there. They were on my soul.
But I love him---"
Kate was relentless, and Ruth left, shivering with anguish and angry pride.
The new trial dragged its length to the second jury. Ruth spent and pledged the last dollar of her fortune.
Once more she heard the foreman, in tones that seemed far off in s.p.a.ce, say the fatal word--
"Guilty!"
She stood by his side again before the judge and heard the words of death fall from his lips, this time with blanched face and cold little fingers locked in agony.
Again the gates at Sing Sing closed, and a woman turned her footsteps toward the Governor"s Mansion at Albany.
CHAPTER x.x.xV
BETWEEN TWO FIRES
Ruth trembled at the thought of her appeal to King. She knew his iron will, his intense love, and the certainty with which he had long regarded their coming union. His ambitions were still mounting, and daily with better a.s.surances of success. His party had chosen another man their candidate for the Presidency, and had been overwhelmed in defeat, while he had been re-elected Governor by a larger plurality.
He received her with grave tenderness.
"Morris," she cried, pathetically, seizing his hand and holding it, "he is not guilty of murder. Everything has been against him in these trials. They were not fair. He killed that man in what men have always called a fair fight. You are a manly man. You believe in justice. You will not let them kill him!"
She could feel the strong man"s hand tremble in hers, looked up into his face, and saw a tear quiver on his lashes.
"Oh! Ruth," he cried, bitterly, "why do you cling to this man? He is regarded as the most dangerous firebrand in America. I could show you hundreds of letters piled on that desk begging me in the name of law and order and all the forces of civilised society not to interfere with his sentence. Come, you know how I love you.
This is horrible cruelty to me. The doors of the White House are opening. You know that what I have, am now, and ever may be, is yours. It will all be ashes without you. I offer you a deathless love, honour and glory, and you come here to tell me you prefer a convicted felon in his cell. My G.o.d, it is too much!"
The Governor leaned on his desk and shaded his face with his hands.