Suddenly a figure started up in the midst of the flickering curtain of ice. It was there in a moment—waving its wild arms—wringing its hands—shrieking, I could have fancied, though no sound came to me. But, in the wonder and instant of its rising, I knew it to be Duke’s.
Hardly had I mastered the first shock of surprise when there came the sound of a great cry behind me. I turned, and there was my father sitting up in bed, and his face was ghastly.
“The wheel!” he shrieked, in a suffocating voice; “the wheel! I’m under it!” And fell back upon his pillow.
CHAPTER LI.
A MEETING ON THE BRIDGE.
It was not immediate death that had alighted, but death’s forerunner, paralysis. I realized this in a moment. The mute and stricken figure; the closed eyes; the darkly flushed face wrenched to the right and the flapping breath issuing one-sided from the lips—I needed no experience to read the meaning of these.
I ran to the head of the stairs and shrieked to old Peggy to come up. Then I hurried to the dressing-table and lighted a candle that stood thereon. As I took it in my hand to approach the bed, a pane in the lattice behind me went with a splintering noise, and something whizzed past my head like a hornet, and a fragment of plaster spun from the wall near. At the same instant a little muffled sound, no louder in the tumult of hail than the smack of an elastic band on paper, came from the street outside.
Instinctively I winced and dodged, not knowing for the moment what had happened, then in the midst of my distraction, fury seized me like a snake.
The blind was up; my figure plainly visible from the bridge as I crossed the room. The madman outside had shot at me, whether from pure deviltry or because he took me for Jason I neither knew nor cared. Coming on the head of my trouble, the deed seemed wantonly diabolical. Had I been master of my actions I think I should then and there have rushed forth and grappled with the evil creature and crushed the life out of him. As it was I ran to the window and dashed it open and leaned forth.
He was there on the bridge still; standing up in the pelting storm; bare-headed, fantastic—a thing of nameless expression.
I shrieked to him and cursed him. I menaced him with my fists. For the moment I was near as much madman as he.