A rustle of profound interest pa.s.sed over the court-room, and such shuffling of feet and murmur of voices arose that the bailiff rapped querulously on the railing with the handle of his mallet and glared, in a vain effort to restore silence. Even the judge, accustomed as he was to every phase of the human comedy, turned a sympathetic gaze upon the girl. He was a middle-aged man, with a pale and sensitive careworn face, and as he resumed his address to the men before him his gentle voice could be heard above the roar of the street in grave reprimand. The sodden convicts who stood unshaved and spiritless before him excited his pity not his wrath.
Victor sat down beside his mother, whispering, "What is it all about?"
Mr. Bartol answered: "Pettus, the president of the People"s Bank, has absconded; the bank is closed, and your mother has been arrested for complicity in his frauds."
Victor understood almost instantly, for this was exactly what Carew had warned him about on the night of his first dinner in Mrs. Joyce"s house.
"What can we do?" he asked.
"Leave that to me," replied Bartol. "I will see that your mother is protected."
As they sat thus, waiting, while the judge disposed of a wife-beating case, Victor thought of Altair and the mournful and exquisite smile with which she had greeted him. What a frightful gulf gaped between these savage and b.e.s.t.i.a.l men--these sullen, pinched, grimy, and malodorous street-walkers, these sottish, half-human creatures, torn and b.l.o.o.d.y with one another"s claws--and the celestial vision which his mother, by some inexplicable necromancy, had been able to create from the sunless world of her magic! What a measureless stretch lay between this clamorous, automatic, pitiless court (with its weary judge) and the sunny bank beside the lagoon, whereon the birds were singing and where he and Leo had so lately lain to gaze on the far horizon land of wedded happiness and love!
Upon his musing the sounding voice of the clerk broke. "_Thomas Aiken_ vs. _Lucile Ollnee._"
Led by Mr. Bartol, Mrs. Ollnee and Mrs. Joyce moved through the gate and stood before the judge, while from the right the complainant and his witnesses and his lawyer came to oppose them. Victor followed his mother and stood at the extreme left, with Leo by his side. He had no care of what the miserable spectators in the seats would think of them. He was only concerned with the judge and the opposing counsel.
Upon the motion of the clerk, the bailiff called out, "Hold up your hands, everybody," and so they all, including even Leo, held up their right hands and took the oath that what they were about to say would be the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help them G.o.d.
The judge, worn by the ceaseless stream of diseased, ineffectual, and halting humanity pa.s.sing daily before his eyes, gazed in surprise and growing interest upon this group of handsome and well-dressed people while the prosecuting attorney presented the claims of the complaining witness, charging the defendant with conspiring to rob or defraud one, Mary Aiken.
"Where is Mrs. Aiken?" asked the judge.
"She is too ill to appear, your honor," replied the prosecuting attorney, "but her granddaughter is here prepared to give in detail the story of how the defendant, who professes to be a medium, induced her aged and infirm grandmother to withdraw her money from certain investments in her native town and put them into the hands of another--namely, the absconding president of the People"s Bank, thereby impoverishing her. Thomas Aiken, the complainant, charges that the said defendant, Lucile Ollnee, has by her uncanny powers obtained large sums of money, and that she should be punished as a swindler."
The judge studied the faces of the witnesses before him, then asked, "What have you to say to this, Mrs. Ollnee?"
"It is false," she replied.
The prosecution put in a word. "You will not deny that you advised these investments?"
"I advised nothing," she retorted. "What my controls advised I only know in a general way."
"What do you mean by "controls"?" inquired the judge.
"I am a spirit medium, and sometimes a trance medium," she replied, facing him steadily. "Those whom men call the dead speak through me."
"In what way?"
"Partly by writing, partly by means of voices."
"Do you mean to say that the dead speak in voices audible to others than yourself?"
"Yes, your honor, they often speak so loud that any one may hear them.
For the most part they whisper."
The prosecution again struck in. "These voices are a part of the trick, a part of her method of luring her victims on to do her will."
The judge turned to the complainant, Thomas Aiken, a dark-faced, sullen young man. "Have you heard these voices, Mr. Aiken?"
"No, sir; I never had a seance; but my sister has had a number of interviews with this woman. I know that in spite of the advice of her friends my grandmother has been induced to give away her money to this woman and to that scoundrel, Pettus. We have been robbed by her. It amounts to that, and we intend to stop it."
The judge turned back to Mrs. Ollnee. "Do you wish to be tried here and now on this charge?"
Mr. Bartol interposed. "No, your honor, we do not. This case is a very peculiar one. My client is a lady, as you may see, and should never have been brought into this court in this fashion. That she is a medium is probably true; but there is no evidence of deceit on her part. She a.s.sures me of her absolute faith in these Voices, and her manner carries conviction. Her friends believe in her also. She claims to be nothing more than the means of communication between this world and the world of the dead."
The judge smiled faintly. "That is claiming a good deal--from my point of view. What have you to say to that?" he demanded, turning again to the complainants.
A clear, low, musical voice, the voice of a young woman, answered, "The case is not uncommon, your honor."
Victor, craning his head forward, found himself looking directly into the big, intense black eyes of the girl he had rebuffed on the stairway the first day of his stay. She was vivid, intense, and very indignant as she said: "The woman pretends to be possessed of the power of communication with the dead, and by her arts she convinced my grandmother that her dead husband wished the withdrawal of her money from a bank in Moline, and that he recommended its investment in this traction company. She played remorselessly upon the most sacred emotions of my poor old grandmother, and I have evidence to prove that this advice has been a part of a general scheme whereby this traction company, a fake concern, has been able to delude other credulous souls."
As she paused her lawyer said, wearily: "It is a plain case of swindling, your honor, and we desire to press the case to its limit at once, for Pettus cannot be found, and we fear the flight of the defendant."
Mr. Bartol spoke suavely. "Your honor, it is not "a plain case of swindling." Mrs. Ollnee is the personal friend of Mrs. John H. Joyce, whose name you know very well. It is true that messages were given advising the investment of funds in the traction company, but not only has this advice been followed by Mrs. Joyce, but by the defendant herself, who has kept all her own small savings in the same bank."
The judge turned to Mrs. Ollnee. "Is this true?"
"It is, your honor."
The judge spoke to Mrs. Joyce. "You believe in this woman"s Voices?"
"I do."
"Yet they have advised you to put your money into the hands of a swindler."
"Her Voices seem to have done this, yes, sir; but she herself has never advised in any way."
"You distinguish between the Voices of your friend and her own personality, do you?"
"I do, yes, sir."
The prosecuting attorney inserted a sneering word. "Your honor, Mrs.
Joyce is known to be credulous and under the influence of this trickster. She is not a competent witness. She has permitted herself to be deluded to the point where she will not believe anything ill of her medium. Thomas Aiken is not the only one ready to press this charge against the defendant. Four others to my knowledge stand ready to testify to this woman"s uncanny power for deluding and defrauding. My client finds herself stripped of her little fortune and helpless in her declining years. The acting of this medium is criminal, and we demand that she be punished."
The judge turned his musing eyes upon Mrs. Ollnee"s pale face. "Have you anything further to say, Mrs. Ollnee?"
"I have never been guilty of any deception, your honor. I claim no wisdom for myself. If it is true that the traction company is a fraud, then it must be that lying spirits have spoken impersonating my husband and my father."
"That is a subterfuge," interposed the young woman, Miss Aiken. "She is responsible for her Voices."
"You accept money for your services, do you not?" the judge asked of Mrs. Ollnee.
"Not now, no sir."
"Did you formerly?"
"Yes, sir, after my husband died, I was forced to do so in order to educate my son."
"Is this your son?"