Speaker 1: Midnight in Beauchampbreau by Anna Catherine Green. It was the
last house in Beauchampbreau, and it stood several rods away
from its nearest neighbor. It was a pretty house in
the daytime, but owing to its deep sloping roof and
small be diamond windows, it had a lonesome nook at night,
nonwithstanding the crimson hall light which shone through the leaves
of its vine covered doorway. Ned Chivers lived in it
with his six months married bride, and as he was
both a busy fellow and a gay one, there were
many evenings when pretty Lady Shiver sat alone until near midnight.
She was of an uncomplaining spirit, however, and said little,
though there were times when both the day and evening
seemed very long, and married life not altogether the paradise
she had expected. On this evening a memorable evening for her,
the twenty fourth of December eighteen ninety four, she had
expected her husband to remain with her, for it was
not only Christmas Eve, but the night when, as manager
of a large manufacturing concern, he brought up from New
York the money with which to pay off the men.
On the next working day, and he never left her
when there was any unusual amount of money in the house.
But from the first glimpse she had of him coming
up the road, she knew she was to be disappointed
in this hope and indignant. Alarmed almost at the prospect
of a lonesome evening under these circumstances, She ran hastily
down to the gate to meet him, crying, oh Nette,
you look so troubled. I know you have only come
home for hurried supper, but you cannot leave me to night. Kenny,
their only maid has gone for a holiday, and I
never can stay in this house alone with all that.
She pointed to the small bag he carried, which, as
she knew, was filled to bursting with banknotes. He certainly
looked troubled. It is hard to resist the entreaty in
a young bright's uplifted face. But this time he could
not help himself, and he said, I am dreadful sorry,
but I must ride over to Fairbanks to night. Mister
Pearson has given me an imperative order to conclude a
matter of business there, and it is very important that
it should be done. I should lose my position if
I neglect this matter, and no one but housebroken soft
for knows that we keep the money in the house.
I have always given hour that I entrusted to Hale's
safe overnight. But I cannot stand it, she persisted, you
have never left me on these nights. That is why
I let Tenny go. I will spend the evening at
the larches, or Petter still call in. Mister and missus
talkin to keep me company. But her husband did not
approve of her going out or of her having company.
The largest was too far away, and as for mister
and Missus Talcott, they were meddlesome people whom he had
never liked. Besides, Missus Talcott was delicate, and the night
threatened storm. It seemed hard to subject her to this ordeal,
and he showed that he thought so by his manner.
But as circumstances were, she would have to stay alone,
and he only hoped she would be brave and go
to bed like a good girl and think nothing about
the money, which she would take care to put away
in a very safe place, or said he kissing her
downcast face. Perhaps you would rather hide it yourself. Women
always have curious ideas about such things. Yes, let me
hide it she murmured, the money, I mean, not the bag.
Everyone knows the bag. I should never dare to leave
it in that, and begging him to unlock it, she
began to empty it with a feverish haste that rather
alarmed him, for he surveyed her anxiously and shook his
head as if he dreaded the effects of dis excitement
upon her. But as he saw no way of averting it,
he confined himself to using such soothing words as were
at his command, and then, humoring her weakness, helped her
to arrange the bills in the place she had chosen,
and restuffing the bag with old receipts till it acquired
its former dimensions, he put a few bills on top
to make the whole look natural, and, laughing at her
white face, relocked the bag and put the key back
in his pocket. There dear a notable scheme, and one nutured.
Relieve your mind entirely, he cried. If anyone should attend
burglary in my absence and should succeed in getting into
a as safely locked as this will be when I
leave it, then trust to their being satisfied when they
see this booty which I shall hide. Weear always hide
it in the cupboard above my desk. And when will
you be back, she murmured, trembling in spite of herself
at these preparations. By one o'clock, if possible, certainly by two,
and our neighbors go to bitter tend, she murmured. But
the words were low, and she was glad he did
not hear them, for if it was his duty to
obey the orders he had received, then it was her
duty to meet the position in which it left her
as bravely as she could. At supper, she was so
natural that his face rapidly brightened, and it was with
quite an air of cheerfulness that he rose at last
to lock up the house and make such preparations as
were necessary for his dismal ride over the mountains to Fairbanks.
She had the supper dishes to wash up in Tinny's absence,
and as she was a busy little housewife, she found
herself singing a snatch of a song as she passed
back and forth from dining room to kitchen. He heard it, too,
and smiled to himself as he bolted the windows on
the ground floor and examined the locks of the three
lower doors, and when he finally came into the kitchen
with his great coat on to give her his final kiss,
he had but one parting injunction to urge, and that
was that she should lock the front door after him,
and then forget the whole matter till she heard his
double knock at midnight. She smiled and held up her
ingenious face. Be careful of yourself, she murmured, I hate
this dark right for you, and on such a night too,
and she ran with him to the door to look out.
It is certainly very dark, he responded, but I am
to have one of Brown's safest horses. Do not worry
about me. I shall do well enough, and so will
you too, Or you are not the plucky little woman
I have always thought you. She laughed, but there was
a choking sound in her voice that made him look
at her again. But at sight of his anxiety, she
recovered herself, and, pointing to the clouds, said earnestly, it's
going to snow. Be careful as you ride by the gorge.
Ned it's very deceptive there in a snow storm. But
he vowed that it would not snow before morning, and
given her one final embrace, he dashed down the path
towards Brown's livery stable. Oh what is the matter with me?
She murmured to herself, as his steps died out in
the distance. I never knew I was such a coward,
And she paused for a moment, looking up and down
the road, as if in spite of her husband's command.
She had the desperate idea of running away to some neighbor,
but she was too loyal for that, and smothering as sight,
she retreated into the house. As she did so, the
first flakes fell off the storm that was not to
have come till morning. It took her an hour to
get to her kitchen in order, and nine o'clock struck
before she was ready to sit down. She had been
so busy she had not noticed how the wind had increased,
or how rapidly the snow was falling. But when she
went to the front door for another glance up and
down the road, she started back, appalled at the fierceness
of the gale and at the great pile of snow
that had already accumulated on the doorstep. Too delicate to
breast such a wind, She saw herself robbed of her
last hope of any companionship, and sighing heavily, she locked
and bolted the door for the night and went back
into her little sitting room, where a great fire was burning.
Here she sat down and determined now that she must
pass the evening alone, to do it as cheerfully as possible,
and so began to sew. Oh what a Christmas Eve,
she thought, and a picture of other homes rose before
her eyes, homes in which husband sat by wives, and
brothers by sisters, And a great wave of regret poured
over her, and a longing for something she hardly dared
say it, what lest her unhappiness should acquire a sting
that would leave traces beyond the passing moment. The room
in which she sat was the only one on the
ground floor except the dining room and kitchen. It was
therefore used both as parlor and sitting room, and held
not only her peace but her husband's desk. Communicating with
it was the tiny dining room. Between the two, however,
was an entry leading to a side entrance. A lamp
was in this entry, and she had left it burning,
as well as the one in the kitchen, that the
house might look cheerful and as if all the family
were at home. She was looking toward this entry and
wondering whether it was the mist made by her tears
that made it look so dismally dark to her, when
there came a faint sound from the door at its
furthest end. But no further sound came from that direction,
and after a few minutes of silent terror, she was
allowing herself to believe that she had been deceived by
her fears, when she suddenly heard the same sound at
the kitchen door, followed by a muffled knock. Frightened, now
in good earnest by still alive to the fact that
the intruder was as likely to be a friend as
a foe, she stepped to the door, and, with her
hand on the lock, stooped and asked boldly enough who
was there. But she received no answer, and, more affected
by this unexpected silence than by the knock she had heard,
she recoiled father and father till not only the width
of the kitchen but the dining room also lay between
her and the scene of her alarm, When, to her
utter confusion, the noise shifted again to the side of
the house, and the door, she thought so securely fastened,
flung violently open, as if blown in by a fierce gust,
and she saw precipitated into the entry the burly figure
of a man, covered with snow and shaking with the
violence of the storm that seemed at once to fill
the house. Her first thought was that it was her husband,
come back. But before she could clear her eyes from
the cloud of snow which had entered with him, he
had thrown off his outer covering, and she found herself
face to face with a man in whose powerful frame
and cynical visage she saw little to comfort her, and
much to surprise and alarm. Boog was his coarse and
rather familiar greeting, A hard night, missus enough to drive
any man indoors. Pardon the liberty, but I couldn't wait
for you to lift the latch. The wind drove me
right in. Was was not the door locked, she feebly asked,
thinking he must have staved it in with his foot
that looked only too well fitted for such a task.
Not much, he chuckled. I suppose you to hospital for that,
and his eyes passed from her face to the comfortable
fire light shining through the sea is it refuge you want,
she demanded, suppressing as much as possible all signs of fear. Sure, missus,
what else? A man can't live in a gale like that,
specially after a tramp of twenty miles or more? Shall
I shut the door for you? He asked, with a
mixture of pravado and good nature that frightened her more
and more. I will shudder, she replied, with half a
notion of escaping the sinister stranger by a flight through
the night, But one glance into the swirling snowstorm deterred her, and,
making the best of the alarming situation, she closed the door,
but did not lock it, being more afraid now of
what was inside the house than of anything left to
threaten her from without. The man, whose clothes were dripping
with water, watched her with a cynical smile, and then,
without any invitation, entered the dining room, crossed it, and
moved toward the kitchen fire. Uugh, uugh, but it's warm here,
he cried, his nostrils dilating with an animal like enjoyment
that in itself was repugnant to her womanly delicacies. Do
you know, missus, I shall have to stay here all night.
Can't go out in that gale again. Not such a fool. Then,
with a sly look at her trembling form and white face,
he insinulatingly added, all alone, missus. The sudden ness with
which this was put together, with the lead that accompanied it,
made her start alone. Yes, but should she acknowledge it?
Would it not be better to say that her husband
was upstairs? The man, evidently thought a struggle going on
in her mind for each other, buckle to himself and
called out, quite boldly, never mind, missus, it's all right.
Just give me a bit of cold meat and a
cup of tea or something, and we'll be very comfortable together.
You're a slender slip of a woman to be minding
a house like this. I'll keep you company if you
don't mind less twise than til the storm lets up
a bit, which ain't likely for some hours to come.
Rough night, missus, Rough night, I expect my husband at
home any time, she hastened to say, and, thinking she
saw a change in the man's countenance at this, she
put on quite an air of sudden satisfaction and bounded
towards the front of the house. There, I think I
hear him now, she cried. Her motive was to gain
time and, if possible, to obtain the opportunity of shifting
the money from the place where she had first put
it into another and safer one. I want to be able,
she thought of, swearing, that I have no money with
me in this house. If I can only get it
into my apron, I will drop it outside the door
into the snow bank. It will be as safe there
as in the bank it came from. And dashing into
the sitting room, she made a feign of dragging down
a shawl from a screen while she secretly filled her
skirt with the bills, which had been put between some
old pamphlets on the bookshelves. She could hear the man
grumbling in the kitchen, but he did not follow her front,
and taken advantage of the moment's respite from his non
to encouraging presence, she unbarred the door and cheerfully called
out her husband's name. The ruse was successful. She was
able to fling the notes where the falling flakes would
soon cover them from sight, and, feeling more courageous now
that the money was out of the house, she went
slowly back saying she had made a mistake and that
it was the wind she had heard. The man gave
a gruff but knowing guff all, and then resumed his
watch over her, following her steps as she proceeded to
set him out a meal with a persistency that reminded
her of a tiger just on the point of springing.
But the inviting looks of deviance with which she was
rapidly setting the table soon distracted his attention, and, allowing
himself one grunt of satisfaction, he drew up a chair
and set himself down to what to him was evidently
a most savory repast. No beer, no ale, not not
a soliday. Don't keep a bar, he growled, as his
teeth closed on a huge hunk of bread. She shook
her head, wishing she had a little cold poison bottled
up in a tight looking jog. Nothing but tea, she smiled,
astonished at her own ease of manner in the presence
of this alarming guest. Then let's have that, he grumbled,
taking the bow she handed him with an odd look
that made her glad to retreat to the other side
of the room. Just listen to the howling wind, he
went on between the huge mouthfuls of bread and cheese
with which he was gorging himself. But we are very comfortable,
we two. We don't mind the storm doom. We shocked
by his familiarity, and still more moved by the look
of mingled inquiry and curiosity with which his eyes now
began to wander over the walls and cupboards. She took
an anxious step towards the side of the house, looking
toward her neighbors, and lifting one of the shades, which
had all been religiously pulled down, She looked out a
swirl of snowflakes alone confronted her. She could neither see
her neighbors, nor could she be seen by them. A
shout from her to them would not be heard. She
was as completely isolated as if the house stood in
the center of a desolated western plain. I have no
trust but in God, she murmured as she came from
the window, and nerved to meet her fate. She crossed
through the kitchen. It was now half past ten, two
hours and a half must elapse before her husband could
possibly arrive. She set her teeth at the thought and
walked resolutely into the room. Are you done, she asked,
I am, ma'am he do you want me to wash
the dishes? I can, and I will, And he actually
carried his plate and cup to the sink, where he
turned the water upon them with another loud guffaw. If
only his fancy would take him into the pantry, she thought,
I could shut and lock the door upon him and
hold him prisoner till ned gets back. But his fancy
ended its flight at the sink, and before her hopes
had fully subsided, he was standing on the threshold of
the sitting room door. It's pretty here, he exclaimed, allowing
his eye to rove again over every hiding place within sight.
I wonder now, he stopped. His glance had fallen on
the cupboard over her husband's desk. Well, she asked, anxious
to break the thread of his thought, which was only
too plainly mirrored in his eager countenance. He started, dropped
his eyes and turning, looked at her with a momentary fierceness.
But as she did not let her own glance well,
but continued to look at him with what she meant
for a smile on her pale lips, he subdued this
outward manifestation of passion, and chuckling to hide his embarrassment,
began backing into the entry, leering an evident enjoyment of
the fears he caused with what she felt was a
most horrible smile. Once in the hall, he hesitated, however,
for a long time. Then he slowly went toward the
garment he had dropped on entering, and stooping, drew from
underneath its fold a wicked looking stick, giving a kick
to the coat, which sent it into a remote corner.
He bestowed upon her another smile, and still carrying the stick,
went slowly and reluctantly away into the kitchen. Oh God,
Almighty help me, was her prayer. There was nothing for
her to do now but endure, so, throwing herself into
a chair, she tried to calm the beating of her
heart and summon up courage for the struggle which she
felt was before her. That he had come to rob
and only waited to take her off her guard. She
now felt, certain and rapidly running over in her mind
all the expedients of self defense possible to one in
her situation. She suddenly remembered the pistol which Ned kept
in his desk. Oh, Why had she not thought of
it before? Why had she let herself grow mad with terror,
when here within reach of her hand lay such a
means of self defense? With a feeling of joy. She
had always hated pistols before, and scolded Ned when he
bought this one. She started to her feet and slid
her hand into the drawer, but it came back empty.
Ned had taken the weapon away with him for a moment,
as search of the bitterest feeling she had ever experienced
passed over her. Then she called reason to her aid,
and was obliged to acknowledge that the act was but natural,
and that from his standpoint, he was much more likely
to need it than herself. But the disappointment coming so
soon after hope unnerved her, and she sank back in
her chair, giving herself up for lust. How long she
sat there with her eyes on the door, through which
she momentarily expected her assailant to reappear, she never knew.
She was conscious only of a sort of apathy that
made movement difficult, and even breathing a task. In vain,
she tried to change her thoughts. In vain, she tried
to follow her husband in fancy over the snow covered
roads and into the gorge of the mountains. Imagination felt her,
at this point do what she would. All was misty
in her mind's eye, and she could not see that
wandering image. There was blankness between his form and her,
and no life or movement anywhere but here in the
scene of her terror. Her eyes were on a strip
of rug that covered the entry floor, and so strange
was the condition of her mind that she found herself
mechanically counting the tassels that finished its edge, growing wroth
over one that was worn till she hated that sixth tassel,
and mentally determined that if she ever outlived this night,
she would strip them all off and be done with them.
The wind had lessened, but the air had grow cooler,
and the snow made a sharp sound where it struck
the panes. She felt it falling, though she had cut
off all view of it. It seemed to her that
a paul was setting over the world, and that she
would soon be smothered under its folds. Meanwhile, no sound
came from the kitchen, only the dreadful sense of a
doom creeping upon her, a sense that grew in intensity
till she found herself watching for the shadow of that
lifted stick on the wall of the entry, and almost
imagined she saw the tip of it appearing, when without
any premonition, that fatal side door again blew in and
admitted another man of so threatening an aspect that she
scumped instantly before him and forgot all her former fears
in this new terror. The second intruder was a Negro
of powerful frame and glowering aspect, and as he came
forward and stood in the doorway, there was observable in
his fears and deustpered countenance now attempt at the insinuation
of the other, only a fearful resolution that made her
feel like a puppet before him, and drove her almost
without violition to her niece. Money is it money you want?
Was a desperate greeting. If so, here's my purse, and
here are my rings, and watch take them and go.
But the stolid wretch did not even stretch out his hands.
His eyes went behind her, and the mingled anxiety and
resolve which he displayed would have cowed a stouter heart
and that of this poor woman. Keep the trash, he growled,
I want the company's money. You've got it two thousand dollars.
Show me where it is, that's all, and I want
trouble you long after I close on it. But it's
not in the house, she cried, I swear it is
not in the house. Do you think mister Shivers would
leave me here alone with two thousand dollars to guard?
But the negro, swearing that she light, leaped into the room, and,
tearing open the cupboard above her husband's desk, seized the
bag from the corner where they had put it. He
brought it in this he muttered, and tried to force
the bag open, but finding this impossible, he took out
a heavy knife and cut a big hole in its side. Instantly,
they fell out the pile of old receipts with which
they had stuffed it, And seeing these he stamped with
rage and flinging them in one great handful at her
rush to the drawers below, empty at them, and finding nothing,
attacked the bookcase. The money somewhere here. Fool me, he yelled.
I saw the spot your eyes lit on when I
first came into the room. Is it behind these books?
He growled, pulling them out and throwing them helter skelter
over the floor. Women is smart in the hiding business?
Is it behind these books? I say they had been,
or rather had been placed between the books, But she
had taken them away, as we know, And he soon
began to realize that his search was bringing him nothing.
For leaving the bookcase, he gave the books one kick, and,
seizing her by the arm, shook her with a murderous
glare on his strange and distorted features. Where's the money,
he hissed, Tell me, or you're a goner. He raised
his heavy fist. She crouched, and all seemed over. Then
with a rush and a cry, a figure dashed between them,
and he fell, struck down by the very stick she
had so long been expecting to see fall upon her
own head. The man who had been her terror for
hours had, at the moment of need, acted as her protector.
She must have fainted, but if so, her unconscious was
but momentary, for when she again recognized her surroundings, she
found the tramp still standing over her adversary. I hope
you don't mind, ma'am, he said, with an air of umbleness.
She certainly had not seen in him before. But I
think the man's dead, and he stirred with his foot
the heavy figure before him. Oh no, no, no, she cried,
that would be too fearful. He's shocked, stunned. You cannot
have killed him. But the tramp was persistent. I'm fraid
I have, he said. I'd done it before, and it's
been the same every time. But I couldn't see a
man of that color frightening a lady like you. My
supper was too warm in me, ma'am. Shall I throw
him outside the house, yes, she said, and then no,
let us first be sure there is no life in him. And,
hardly knowing what she did, she stooped down and peered
into the glassy eyes of the prostrate man. Suddenly she
turned pale, No, not pale, but ghastly, and cowering back,
shook so that the tramp, into whose feature a certain
refinement had passed since he had acted as her protector,
sought she had discovered life in those set orbs, and
was stooping down to make sure that this was so
when he saw her suddenly lean forward and impetuously plunging
her hand into the negro's throat, tear open the shirt
and give one look at his bare breast. It was white.
Oh God, oh God, she moaned, and lifting the head
in her two hands, she gave the motionless features a
long and searching look. Water. She cried, bring water, But
before the now obedient tramp could respond, she had torn
off the wooly wig, disfiguring the dead man's head, and
seeing the blonde curls beneath, had uttered such a shriek
that it rose above the gale and was heard by
her distant neighbors. It was the head and hair of
her husband. They found out afterwards that he had contemplated
this stuff for months, that each at every precaution possibly
to a successful issue, to this most daring undertaking had
been made use of, and that but for the unexpected
presence in the house of the tramp, he would doubtless
have not only extorted the money from his wife, but
have so covered up the deed by a plausible alibi
as to have retained her confidence and that of his employers.
Whether the tramp killed him out of sympathy for the
defenseless woman or enrage at being disappointed in his own
plans has never been determined. Missus Shivers herself thinks he
was actuated by a rude sort of gratitude, end of
midnight in Beauchampbreaux