Read Online Heaven and Hell by John Jakes - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: John Jakes
Tags: United States, Fiction, Historical fiction, General, Romance, Historical, United States - History - 1865-1898
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didn't see him. I did. Not every man who goes to war comes back sane." He didn't notice her mournful glance, or recall his own mental disarray in the weeks following their son's drowning.
"I'm going to warn Madeline in a letter," he said.
WINTER GARDEN
Broadway, between Bleecker and Amity sts.
THIS EVENING,
commencing at 7V2 o'clock,
Richelieu; The Conspiracy.
Characters by Edwin Booth,
Charles Barron, J. H. Taylor, John Dyott,
W. A. Donaldson, C. Kemble Mason,
Miss Rose Eytange, Mrs. Marie Wilkins, &c. . . .
Willa woke suddenly. She heard a noise and a voice, neither of which she could identify.
Memory flooded back. Claudius Wood--the Macbeth dagger. She'd fled along Chambers Street in the rain and almost been run down by the horse of a fast hansom when she slipped and fell at an intersection. Only after four blocks had she dared look back at the dim lamplit street.
Page 48
No sign of Wood. No pursuit of any kind. She had turned and run on.
The noise was a fist pounding the door. The unfamiliar voice belonged to a man.
"Miss Parker, the landlady saw you come in. Open the door, or I'll force it."
"Ruin a good door? I won't permit it."
That was the voice of the harpy who ran the lodging house. Earlier, when Willa had come dashing in from the rainy street, the woman had peered at her from the dining room, where she presided over bad food and the four shabby gentlemen who occupied the other rooms.
Willa had raced away from those hostile eyes and up the stairs to her sleeping room, with its tiny alcove crowded with her books, theater mementos, and two trunks of clothing. Safe inside the room, she'd thrown the bolt over and fallen on the bed, trembling. There she had lain listening for nearly an hour. At last, exhaustion had pulled her into sleep.
Now she heard the man in the hall tell the landlady, "You've got nothing to say about it. The girl's wanted for questioning about an assault on her employer." He pounded again. "Miss Parker!"
Willa hugged herself, not breathing.
The man shouted: "It's a police matter. I ask you one last time to open the door."
44
Lost Causes 45
She was already dressed. A swift look into the dark alcove was her brief farewell to her few possessions. She snatched her shawl and raised the window. The man heard and started to break the door with his shoulder.
Fighting for breath, fighting terror, Willa climbed over the sill, lowered herself, holding on with both hands, then let go. She plunged downward through rainy blackness. An anguished cry went unheard as the door splintered and caved in.
Page 49
"God--my God--I've never been through anything like this in my life, Eddie."
"There, there." He pulled her close to his shoulder. His velvet smoking coat had a nubby, comforting feel. While her clothes dried, she wore one of his robes, golden silk and quite snug; he was a small man. A strand of pale blond hair straggled across her forehead. Her bare legs rested on a stool in front of her. He'd wrapped her left ankle in a tight" bandage. She had twisted it when she dropped to the alley, and she had been in pain as she hobbled all the way to his brownstone townhouse, Number 28 East Nineteenth Street.
"The policeman nearly caught me. Wood sent him, didn't he?"
"Undoubtedly," Booth said. He was thirty-two, slim and handsome, and had a rich voice critics called "a glorious instrument." His expressive eyes held a look of abiding pain.
Rain poured down on the townhouse and streaked its tall windows.
It was half after one in the morning. Willa shivered in the silk robe as Booth continued. "Wood's a foul man. A discredit to our profession.
He drinks far too much--on that habit I am an expert. Combine that with his temper and the result is catastrophic. Last year, he nearly crippled a gas-table operator who didn't light the stage precisely as he wanted it. Then there was his late wife--"
"I didn't know he was ever married."
"He doesn't talk about it, with reason. On a crossing for a
"I'm going to warn Madeline in a letter," he said.
WINTER GARDEN
Broadway, between Bleecker and Amity sts.
THIS EVENING,
commencing at 7V2 o'clock,
Richelieu; The Conspiracy.
Characters by Edwin Booth,
Charles Barron, J. H. Taylor, John Dyott,
W. A. Donaldson, C. Kemble Mason,
Miss Rose Eytange, Mrs. Marie Wilkins, &c. . . .
Willa woke suddenly. She heard a noise and a voice, neither of which she could identify.
Memory flooded back. Claudius Wood--the Macbeth dagger. She'd fled along Chambers Street in the rain and almost been run down by the horse of a fast hansom when she slipped and fell at an intersection. Only after four blocks had she dared look back at the dim lamplit street.
Page 48
No sign of Wood. No pursuit of any kind. She had turned and run on.
The noise was a fist pounding the door. The unfamiliar voice belonged to a man.
"Miss Parker, the landlady saw you come in. Open the door, or I'll force it."
"Ruin a good door? I won't permit it."
That was the voice of the harpy who ran the lodging house. Earlier, when Willa had come dashing in from the rainy street, the woman had peered at her from the dining room, where she presided over bad food and the four shabby gentlemen who occupied the other rooms.
Willa had raced away from those hostile eyes and up the stairs to her sleeping room, with its tiny alcove crowded with her books, theater mementos, and two trunks of clothing. Safe inside the room, she'd thrown the bolt over and fallen on the bed, trembling. There she had lain listening for nearly an hour. At last, exhaustion had pulled her into sleep.
Now she heard the man in the hall tell the landlady, "You've got nothing to say about it. The girl's wanted for questioning about an assault on her employer." He pounded again. "Miss Parker!"
Willa hugged herself, not breathing.
The man shouted: "It's a police matter. I ask you one last time to open the door."
44
Lost Causes 45
She was already dressed. A swift look into the dark alcove was her brief farewell to her few possessions. She snatched her shawl and raised the window. The man heard and started to break the door with his shoulder.
Fighting for breath, fighting terror, Willa climbed over the sill, lowered herself, holding on with both hands, then let go. She plunged downward through rainy blackness. An anguished cry went unheard as the door splintered and caved in.
Page 49
"God--my God--I've never been through anything like this in my life, Eddie."
"There, there." He pulled her close to his shoulder. His velvet smoking coat had a nubby, comforting feel. While her clothes dried, she wore one of his robes, golden silk and quite snug; he was a small man. A strand of pale blond hair straggled across her forehead. Her bare legs rested on a stool in front of her. He'd wrapped her left ankle in a tight" bandage. She had twisted it when she dropped to the alley, and she had been in pain as she hobbled all the way to his brownstone townhouse, Number 28 East Nineteenth Street.
"The policeman nearly caught me. Wood sent him, didn't he?"
"Undoubtedly," Booth said. He was thirty-two, slim and handsome, and had a rich voice critics called "a glorious instrument." His expressive eyes held a look of abiding pain.
Rain poured down on the townhouse and streaked its tall windows.
It was half after one in the morning. Willa shivered in the silk robe as Booth continued. "Wood's a foul man. A discredit to our profession.
He drinks far too much--on that habit I am an expert. Combine that with his temper and the result is catastrophic. Last year, he nearly crippled a gas-table operator who didn't light the stage precisely as he wanted it. Then there was his late wife--"
"I didn't know he was ever married."
"He doesn't talk about it, with reason. On a crossing for a
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