Talma Gordon

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It was shown that Talma had been allowed to go abroadto study because she and Mrs. Gordon did not get onwell together. From the testimony of Jenkins it seemedthat Talma and her father had quarreled bitterly abouther lover, a young artist whom she had met at Rome,who was unknown to fame, and very poor.

There hadbeen terrible things said by each, and threats even hadTalma Gordon 9passed, all of which now rose up in judgment against theunhappy girl. The examination of the family solicitor re-vealed the fact that Captain Gordon intended to leavehis daughters only a small annuity, the bulk of the for-tune going to his son Jonathan, junior.

This was a mon-strous injustice, as everyone felt. In vain Talma protestedher innocence. Someone must have done it. No onewould be benefited so much by these deaths as she andher sister. Moreover, the will, together with other pa-pers, was nowhere to be found. Not the slightest cluebearing upon the disturbing elements in this family, ifany there were, was to be found. As the only survivingrelatives, Jeannette and Talma became joint heirs to animmense fortune, which only for the bloody tragedy justenacted would, in all probability, have passed them by.

Here was the motive. The case was very black againstTalma. The foreman stood up. The silence was intense: Gor-don, and Jonathan Gordon, junior, all deceased, came totheir deaths by means of a knife or other sharp instru-ment in the hands of Talma Gordon. The girl was likeone stricken with death.

The flowerlike mouth was drawnand pinched; the great sapphire-blue eyes were blackwith passionate anguish, terror, and despair. She wasplaced in jail to await her trial at the fall session of thecriminal court. The excitement in the hitherto quiet townrose to fever heat. Many points in the evidence seemedincomplete to thinking men. The weapon could not befound, nor could it be divined what had become of it. No reason could be given for the murder except the quar-rel between Talma and her father and the ill will whichexisted between the girl and her stepmother.

Talma was pale and careworn, but seemed uplifted,spiritualized, as it were. Upon Jeannette the full realiza-tion of her sisters peril seemed to weigh heavily. She hadchanged much too: From far-off Italy Edward Turner, growing famousin the art world, came to stand beside his girl-love in thishour of anguish. The trial was a memorable one. No additionalevidence had been collected to strengthen the prosecu-tion; when the attorney-general rose to open the caseagainst Talma he knew, as everyone else did, that hecould not convict solely on the evidence adduced.

Whatwas given did not always bear upon the case, and broughtout strange stories of Captain Jonathans methods. Taleswere told of sailors who had sworn to take his life, inrevenge for injuries inflicted upon them by his hand. One or two clues were followed, but without avail. Thejudge summed up the evidence impartially, giving theprisoner the benefit of the doubt.

The points in handfurnished valuable collateral evidence, but were notdirect proof. Although the moral presumption wasagainst the prisoner, legal evidence was lacking to actu-ally convict. The jury found the prisoner Not Guilty,owing to the fact that the evidence was entirely cir-cumstantial. The verdict was received in painful silence;then a murmur of discontent ran through the greatcrowd.

She must have done it, said one; who else has beenbenefited by the horrible deed? Talma Gordon 11A poor woman would not have fared so well at thehands of the jury, nor a homely one either, for that mat-ter, said another. The great Gordon trial was ended; innocent orguilty, Talma Gordon could not be tried again. She wasfree; but her liberty, with blasted prospects and fair famegone forever, was valueless to her. She seemed to have butone object in her mind: By her direction theshrewdest of detectives were employed and money flowedlike water, but to no purpose; the Gordon tragedy re-mained a mystery.

I had consented to act as one of thetrustees of the immense Gordon estates and business in-terests, and by my advice the Misses Gordon went abroad. A year later I received a letter from Edward Turner, sayingthat Jeannette Gordon had died suddenly at Rome, andthat Talma, after refusing all his entreaties for an earlymarriage, had disappeared, leaving no clue as to her where-abouts.

I could give the poor fellow no comfort, althoughI had been duly notified of the death of Jeannette by Talma,in a letter telling me where to forward her remittances,and at the same time requesting me to keep her presentresidence secret, especially from Edward. I had established a sanitarium for the cure of chronicdiseases at Gordonville, and absorbed in the cares of myprofession I gave little thought to the Gordons. I seemedfated to be involved in mysteries. A man claiming to be an Englishman, and fresh fromthe California gold fields, engaged board and professionalservice at my retreat.

I found him suffering in the grasp ofthe tubercle fiendthe last stages. He called himself SimonCameron. Seldom have I seen so fascinating and wicked a12 Talma Gordonface. The lines of the mouth were cruel, the eyes cold andsharp, the smile mocking and evil. He had money in plentybut seemed to have no friends, for he had received noletters and had had no visitors in the time he had beenwith us. He was an enigma to me; and his nationalitypuzzled me, for of course I did not believe his story ofbeing English. The peaceful influence of the house seemedto soothe him in a measure, and make his last steps to themysterious valley as easy as possible.

For a time he im-proved, and would sit or walk about the grounds and singsweet songs for the pleasure of the other inmates. Strangeto say, his malady only affected his voice at times.

He sangquaint songs in a silvery tenor of great purity and sweet-ness that was delicious to the listening ear: A wet sheet and a flowing sea,A wind that follows fast,And fills the white and rustling sailAnd bends the gallant mast;And bends the gallant mast, my boys;While like the eagle free,Away the good ship flies, and leavesOld England on the lea. There are few singers on the lyric stage who couldsurpass Simon Cameron. One night, a few weeks after Camerons arrival, I satin my office making up my accounts when the door openedand closed; I glanced up, expecting to see a servant.

Alady advanced toward me. She threw back her veil, andthen I saw that Talma Gordon, or her ghost, stood beforeme. After the first excitement of our meeting was over, shetold me she had come direct from Paris, to place herself inTalma Gordon 13my care. I had studied her attentively during the firstmoments of our meeting, and I felt that she was right;unless something unforeseen happened to arouse her fromthe stupor into which she seemed to have fallen, the lastGordon was doomed to an early death.

The next day Itold her I had cabled Edward Turner to come to her.

It will do no good; I cannot marry him, was heronly comment. Have you no feeling of pity for that faithful fel-low? I asked her sternly, provoked by her seeming indif-ference.

I shall never forget the varied emotions depictedon her speaking face. Fully revealed to my gaze was thesight of a human soul tortured beyond the point of en-durance; suffering all things, enduring all things, in thesilent agony of despair.

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In a few days Edward arrived, and Talma consentedto see him and explain her refusal to keep her promise tohim. You must be present, Doctor; it is due your long,tried friendship to know that I have not been fickle, buthave acted from the best and strongest motives. I shall never forget that day. It was directly afterlunch that we met in the library.

I was greatly excited,expecting I knew not what. Edward was agitated, too. Talma was the only calm one. She handed me what seemedto be a letter, with the request that I would read it. Evennow I think I can repeat every word of the document, soindelibly are the words engraved upon my mind: When you read theselines I shall be no more, for I shall not live to see your lifeblasted by the same knowledge that has blighted mine. One evening, about a year before your expectedreturn from Rome, I climbed into a hammock in one cor Talma Gordonner of the veranda outside the breakfast-room windows,intending to spend the twilight hours in lazy comfort, forit was very hot, enervating August weather.

Iwas awakened by voices. Because of the heat the roomshad been left in semidarkness. As I lay there, lazily enjoy-ing the beauty of the perfect summer night, my wander-ing thoughts were arrested by words spoken by our fatherto Mrs. Gordon, for they were the occupants of the break-fast room. Never fear, Mary; Johnny shall have it allmoney,houses, land, and business. But if you do go first, Jonathan, what will happenif the girls contest the will?

People will think that theyought to have the money as it appears to be theirs by law. I never could survive the terrible disgrace of the story. Dont borrow trouble; all you would need to dowould be to show them papers I have drawn up, and theywould be glad to take their annuity and say nothing.

Af-ter all, I do not think it is so bad. Jeannette can teach;Talma can paint; six hundred dollars a year is quite enoughfor them. I had been somewhat mystified by the conversa-tion until now. This last remark solved the riddle. Teach, paint, six hundred a year! Withmy usual impetuosity I sprang from my resting place,and in a moment stood in the room confronting my fa-ther, and asking what he meant.

I could see plainly thatboth were disconcerted by my unexpected appearance. Butwhat could I expect of your mothers daughter? At these words I felt the indignant blood rush tomy head in a torrent. So it had been all my life. BeforeTalma Gordon 15you could remember, Talma, I had felt my little heartswell with anger at the disparaging hints and slurs con-cerning our mother.

Now was my time. I determined thattonight I would know why she was looked upon as anoutcast, and her children subjected to every humiliation. So I replied to my father in bitter anger: I was not listening; I fell asleep in the hammock. What do you mean by a paltry six hundred a year each toTalma and to me?

My mothers daughter demands anexplanation from you, sir, of the meaning of the mon-strous injustice that you have always practiced toward mysister and me. Speak more respectfully to your father, Jeannette,broke in Mrs. How is it, madam, that you look for respect fromone whom you have delighted to torment ever since youcame into this most unhappy family?

Hush, both of you, said Captain Gordon, whoseemed to have recovered from the dismay into which mysudden appearance and passionate words had plungedhim. I think I may as well tell you as to wait. Since youknow so much, you may as well know the whole miser-able story. He motioned me to a seat. I could see that hewas deeply agitated. I seated myself in a chair he pointedout, in wonder and expectationexpectation of I knewnot what. This was a supreme moment in mylife; I felt it.

The air was heavy with the intense stillnessthat had settled over us as the common sounds of daygave place to the early quiet of the rural evening. Gordons face as she sat within the radius of thelighted hallway. There was a smile of triumph upon it. Iclinched my hands and bit my lips until the blood came,16 Talma Gordonin the effort to keep from screaming. What was I about tohear? At last he spoke: I was disappointed at your birth, and also at thebirth of Talma. I wanted a male heir. When I knew that Ishould again be a father I was torn by hope and fear, but Icomforted myself with the thought that luck would be withme in the birth of the third child.

When the doctor broughtme word that a son was born to the house of Gordon, I waswild with delight, and did not notice his disturbed counte-nance. In the midst of my joy he said to me: Captain Gordon, there is something strange aboutthis birth. I want you to see this child. Quelling my exultation I followed him to the nurs-ery, and there, lying in the cradle, I saw a child dark as amulatto, with the characteristic features of the Negro! Gradually it dawned upon me that therewas something radically wrong. I turned to the doctor foran explanation.

There is but one explanation, Captain Gordon;there is Negro blood in this child. There is no Negro blood in my veins, I saidproudly. Then I pausedthe mother! I glanced at thedoctor. He was watching me intently. The same thoughtwas in his mind. I must have lived a thousand years inthat cursed five seconds that I stood there confronting thephysician and trying to think. Come, said I to him, letus end this suspense. Without thinking of consequences,I hurried away to your mother and accused her of infidel-ity to her marriage vows. I raved like a madman. Yourmother fell into convulsions; her life was despaired of.

Franklin, and then I learned thetruth. One year while on a SouthernTalma Gordon 17tour, they befriended an octoroon girl who had been aban-doned by her white lover. Her child was a beautiful girlbaby. They, being Northern born, thought little of castedistinction because the child showed no trace of Negroblood.

They determined to adopt it. They went abroad,secretly sending back word to their friends at a propertime of the birth of a little daughter. No one doubted thetruth of the statement. They made Isabel their heiress,and all went well until the birth of your brother. Yourmother and the unfortunate babe died. This is the storywhich, if known, would bring dire disgrace upon theGordon family. To appease my righteous wrath, Mr. Franklin lefta codicil to his will by which all the property is left at mydisposal save a small annuity to you and your sister.

I sat there after he had finished the story, stunnedby what I had heard. I understood, now, Mrs. Gordonshalf contemptuous toleration and lack of considerationfor us both. As I rose from my seat to leave the room I saidto Captain Gordon: Still, in spite of it all, sir, I am a Gordon, legallyborn. I will not tamely give up my birthright. I left that room a broken-hearted girl, filled with adesire for revenge upon this man, my father, who by hismanner disowned us without a regret.

Not once in thatremarkable interview did he speak of our mother as hiswife; he quietly repudiated her and us with all the coldcruelty of relentless caste prejudice. I heard the treatmentof your lovers proposal; I knew why Captain Gordonsconsent to your marriage was withheld. The night of the reception and dance was the chancefor which I had waited, planned, and watched. I crept18 Talma Gordonfrom my window into the ivy vines, and so down, down,until I stood upon the windowsill of Captain Gordonsroom in the old left tower.

How did I do it, you ask? The house was silent after the revel; the dark-ness of the gathering storm favored me, too. The lawyerwas there that day. The will was signed and put safelyaway among my fathers papers.

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I was determined to havethe will and the other documents bearing upon the case,and I would have revenge, too, for the cruelties we hadsuffered. With the old East Indian dagger firmly graspedI entered the room and foundthat my revenge had beenforestalled! The horror of the discovery I made that nightrestored me to reason and a realization of the crime I medi-tated.

Scarce knowing what I did, I sought and found thepapers, and crept back to my room as I had come. Do youwonder that my disease is past medical aid? I looked at Edward as I finished. He sat, his facecovered with his hands. Finally he looked up with a glanceof haggard despair: Doctor, but this is too much. Icould stand the stigma of murder, but add to that thepollution of Negro blood! No man is brave enough to facesuch a situation. It is as I thought it would be, said Talma sadly,while the tears poured over her white face.

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I do not blameyou, Edward. He rose from his chair, wrung my hand in a convul-sive clasp, turned to Talma and bowed profoundly, withhis eyes fixed upon the floor, hesitated, turned, paused,bowed again, and abruptly left the room. So those twowho had been lovers parted. I turned to Talma, expectingher to give way. She smiled a pitiful smile, and said: Yousee, Doctor, I knew best. Talma Gordon 19From that on she failed rapidly. Ifonly I could rouse her to an interest in life, she might liveto old age. So rich, so young, so beautiful, so talented, sopure; I grew savage thinking of the injustice of the world.

I had not reckoned on the power that never sleeps. Some-thing was about to happen. On visiting Cameron next morning I found himapproaching the end. He had been sinking for a week veryrapidly. As I sat by the bedside holding his emaciatedhand, he fixed his bright, wicked eyes on me, and asked: How long have I got to live? Candidly, but a few hours.

Thank you; well, I want death; I am not afraid dodie. Doctor, Cameron is not my name. I never supposed it was. You are sharper than I thought. I heard allyour talk yesterday with Talma Gordon. He clasped his bony fingers around my arm andgasped: I murdered the Gordons!

Had I the pen of a Dumas I could not paintCameron as he told his story. It is a question with mewhether this wheedling planet, home of the suffering,doubting, dying, may not hold worse agonies on its smil-ing surface than those of the conventional hell. I sent forTalma and a lawyer.