He accompanied her to the door, where they bowed politely and formally to each other, and then the handsome woman swept out upon the street, as composed and self-possessed as if she had merely been purchasing some trifling article for the toilet, instead of rolling away the stone from a sepulcher where, for more than twenty years, a corroding secret had lain concealed.
Doctor Turner went back to his private office, where he sat a long time, musing over the wonderful mystery which had stood the test of nearly a quarter of a century, and wondering if he should ever learn the solution to it.
“It was the most perplexing, yet romantic, incident connected with my whole life as a physician,” he murmured. “If I could but get at the inside history of it I could write a book worth reading.
“It was almost too bad,” he added, some minutes afterward. “not to tell her about Huntress—it is possible no harm would have resulted from the knowledge; but if there had I should have blamed myself. It was better not.”
He watched the passers in the street for several days, hoping to get another glimpse at his visitor.
But he did not—he never saw her again.
CHAPTER XXXII.
GEOFFREY FINDS A RELIC.
Geoffrey Huntress arrived in Santa Fe late one evening, and in the midst of a driving storm, about a week after parting from Jack and Margery Henly.
He was glad to seek shelter in the nearest public house, which proved to be an adobe, and was kept by a goodnatured Spaniard and his wife, both of whom could speak English passably well.
Everything was in the most primitive style, yet comfortable, and the house was a most acceptable refuge from the raging tempest without.