May 27, 2025 • 14 mins
Get entranced with The Hemlock Avenue Mystery, a thrilling piece from the mystery series penned by Lily Augusta Long under the alias Roman Doubleday. A lawyer finds himself in the thick of a murder accusation, having allegedly killed a legal adversary. Amidst the tumult, a persistent newspaper reporter decides to delve into the mysterious case. Complicating the plot are two women under suspicion, and another seemingly oblivious to the crime. With limited clues at his disposal, the reporter transitions into a detective, unwinding one enigma at a time. This gripping narrative is brought to life by the compelling narration of Roger Melin.
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Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter nineteen of The Hemlock Avenue Mystery by Roman double Day.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter nineteen.
The radiance of Missus Wolcott's face was still lingering in
Lyon's mind and diffusing a glow over his imagination when
he crossed the few steps that separated her house from Broughton's.
(00:25):
Broughton opened the door for him, as he had formed
the habit of doing. The anguished and despairing inquiry in
his eyes pulled Lion up sharply. He had come from
the morning to night, from the hope of youth to
the sorrow of age, from those whose story was to
end happily, to those who knew in their own hearts
(00:47):
the tragedy of life. You have nothing to tell me,
Broughton asked, though his tone showed he expected nothing. Lion
shook his head. No, you have heard nothing, nothing, nothing,
nothing from habit. He led Lyon into the dining room,
(01:07):
where they had always sat to smoke before retiring. But
the room showed no preparations for an evening of good cheer.
It was as blank and forlorn as Broughton's face. Where
can she be? He demanded, stopping in his restless walk
to face Lyon, imperiously ill as she was with God
(01:29):
knows what trouble on her mind and conscience. Where can
she have gone? Did she feel that it was impossible
to live? Did she go to her death? Or to
hide and wait for him? If you mean Lawrence, that's
all nonsense, said Lyon, calmly. I may tell you now
(01:49):
there were reasons why I couldn't before that. Lawrence is
deeply in love with miss Wolcott, who lives next door,
and she returns his sentiment. I am satisfied that their
formal engagement will be announced as soon as he is
cleared of this accusation. What of that, said Broughton, Dully,
(02:10):
he may be playing with a dozen women, for all
I know. He isn't that sort. He is the sort
that keeps up a secret correspondence with another man's wife
and lures her from her home and her husband. That
I know, and knowing that, I can't believe very much
good of him. In other ways, he knows where my
(02:32):
wife is now, I don't believe it. Well, he will
know before I do, said Broughton, sullenly. She has fled
because she was connected with that affair in some way.
It is even possible that she discovered I was watching.
And if she hasn't destroyed herself, she is gone where
(02:54):
she can wait for him. Lion felt helpless. The unreasoned
of jealousy comes so near to insanity that argument and
common sense are helpless before it. It can only be
mastered by authority or by an appeal to the emotions,
and Lion did not feel himself in position to offer
(03:14):
either to a man of woods Broughton's age and personal force. Well,
good night, he said, lamely. I'm going to bed, Go,
said Broughton. There is no reason why you should not sleep.
I shall not sleep until I know where she is.
Good God, this very minute, she may be a helpless
(03:37):
prisoner in some terrible den of infamy. She may be suffering,
though she cannot suffer as I do. Lion got away
from him and went up to the little back bedroom,
which had come to seem so homelike in the short
week that he had been there. Kitty's curtains were both down.
(03:57):
Of course, her faithfulness to their even to this disastrous end,
struck him as pathetic. Dear little girl, he murmured, and
blew a kiss across the night to her. One can
venture so much more in the night than in the
unsympathetic blaze of common day. How much farther he might
(04:19):
have gone on his excursion into sentiment can only be guessed,
For just then his eye was caught and his mind
diverted by something which, in a moment took on more
than a momentary importance. It was nothing more pretentious than
a lighted window in Miss Wolcott's home. The curious thing
(04:39):
about it was that he had never seen a light
in that second story window before. Every evening, when he
had looked for Kitty's signal, Miss Wolcott's house had presented
a perfectly blank and unobservant side to his view. Now
some one was occupying a room which corresponded with his
own room in this neighboring house. While his eye lingered
(05:03):
on the light in idle speculation, he saw and distinctly
recognized Miss Wolcott as she passed between the window and
the light in the room. The sight was not in
itself startling, and yet he started and metaphorically rubbed his eyes.
Miss Wolcott wore a hat. Instinctively, he looked at his watch,
(05:26):
it lacked a few minutes of eleven. Eleven o'clock in
Wainscott was an hour when respectable householders went to bed,
unless they went on a journey. Was it possible that
miss Wolcott was going out alone and unattended at this hour?
He had the greatest confidence in the innocence of her intentions,
(05:48):
whatever they were. But the story which she had told
had not given him the same prejudice in favor of
her discretion. What foolish plan might she have in her mind? Now?
Why had she said nothing of her intention when he
left her an hour ago? Distinctly worried, he reached for
the overcoat and hat, which he had thrown down on
(06:10):
a chair in his room, and then went back to
the window. If she was really bent on a midnight
errand he would escort her, whether she liked it or not,
he would quietly watch for the moment of her departure,
and then join her at her own front door. But
while he waited, another head crossed the lighted field of
(06:32):
the window, not Miss Wolcott's. She was not going alone, then,
for this woman also wore a hat, and about her
neck was the graceful line of an upturned fur collar.
He did not know Miss Wolcott's friends. He knew indeed,
very few women in Wainscott. And yet something teasingly familiar
(06:53):
about the lift of the head, the turn of the
neck puzzled him. Did he know her? And then suddenly
the solution of it all flashed upon him, That delicately
turned head belonged to Missus Broughton. Dolt idiot that he
was not to have reasoned it out before. Missus Broughton,
(07:16):
fleeing from Miss Eliot's by way of the secret panel
in the fence, had taken shelter at Miss Wolcott's. What
more natural, what more simple? And now under cover of
the night, she was preparing to continue her flight. In
a flash, without waiting for logical processes, Lion saw what
(07:37):
he must do. He hurled himself downstairs, three steps at
a time, and out of the front hall. As he
had expected, a carriage was waiting before Miss Wolcott's door.
He went up to the driver, ostentationally, looking at his watch.
When does the train leave? He asked, a seven forty five.
(08:01):
The man answered, oh, then there is time enough, he
said easily, and ran back to the house. Broughton, who
had been startled by Lion's noisy run through the hall,
was awaiting him at the front door. What's up, he
asked Lyon realized that the moment had come for the
(08:22):
autocratic dominance of the same mind. He put his hand
impressively on Broughton's shoulder and faced him sternly, imperiously. Mister Broughton,
if I could put you, at this moment face to
face with your wife, what would be your attitude toward her?
What do you mean? Gasped Broughton, too bewildered by this
(08:45):
new manner to really grasp Lion's words. Would you meet
her with accusation, doubt and coldness? Or will you hide
that unworthy side of your thought and let her see
the love that you really feel? Broughton's face darkened. If
she can satisfy my doubts, she must never know them,
(09:09):
and this for your sake more than hers. Think man,
how will you go through the years that lie before you?
If you must spend them with the constant knowledge that
you once failed her, that she knows it, and that
she can never more be proud of you or sure
of you. You will have made it necessary for her
to forgive you. Can you stand the humiliation of that knowledge?
(09:34):
She to forgive me, stammered Broughton. For what for doubting her?
You should have believed in her against every appearance. If
you want to hold your head up before her, never
let her know what traitor's doubts you have harbored. How
do you know that they are traitorers, asked Broughton, struggling
(09:56):
for a grip on his past passions. Because now listen
and understand exactly what this means. Because your wife, when
she fled from Miss Elliot's, took refuge with Miss Wolcott,
who is Lawrence's fiancee. Can you believe, for the thousandth
part of an instant that she would have gone to
(10:18):
that girl if there was anything between her and Lawrence?
It is unthinkable. Now hold that one fact firmly, Do
not forget it for a moment, and come with me
to your wife. He crushed Broughton's hat upon the bewildered
man's head and dragged him out and across the dividing
yards to Miss Wolcott's door. The whole episode had only
(10:42):
taken a few moments, but he breathed more freely when
he had actually got Broughton to the steps of the
other house before the women came out. There was no
time to spare. However, the door knob turned softly, the
door opened noiselessly, and the two women stood there, cloaked
and veiled, ready to set forth. Instead, Lion drew Broughton inside,
(11:09):
as though the door had been opened for the purpose
of admitting them. I must beg that you give me
a few moments, Miss Wolcot, Lion began, but the need
of making any explanation was taken from him. The lady,
who at their first appearance had shrunk back of Miss Wolcott,
suddenly gave a little inarticulate cry and threw herself upon
(11:32):
Broughton's breast. Woods, Oh woods, where did you come from?
She cried, and burst into tears. Lion held his breath
in suspense. But it is not in masculine nature to
thrust away a beautiful, sobbing woman. Broughton's arms lifted to
enclose her, and his voice murmured, not ungently, there there, grace,
(11:58):
control yourself. Lion turned to Miss Wolcott, trying to leave
the reunited husband and wife in as much privacy as
the situation, admitted, What is your plan? Where are you going?
He asked urgently. She had thrown back her veil, and
her face was pale but resolute. We were trying to escape,
(12:21):
she said, from whom that terrible detective he had found,
missus Broughton. He went to see her yesterday and told her.
She stopped abruptly, and a shudder shook her visibly. What
did he tell her? In charity? Let me know? He
(12:44):
told her she would have to appear as a witness
at the trial and give testimony against me, against you.
The room reeled before Lyon's eyes, but he pulled himself together.
Let me dismt miss your carriage, and then you must
tell me what you mean. It was wild of you
(13:05):
to try to run away in the first place. You
would not be able to take any train without being stopped.
The police know of missus Broughton's disappearance and are watching
all outgoing trains, of course, besides, but let us dispose
of the carriage first. He went to the door and
(13:26):
dismissed the coachman. As he came back, he saw that
Broughton had disengaged his wife's arms and was facing her
with that jealous sternness in his eyes that Lyon had dreaded.
But to leave my home secretly at the urging of
anyone was not what I had a right to expect
(13:48):
of my wife. I have reason to demand an explanation.
The tears were still sparkling on missus Broughton's lashes, but
she looked up at him with a steady glance. I'm
not your wife, she said quietly. End of Chapter nineteen.
Chapter nineteen of The Hemlock Avenue Mystery by Roman double Day.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter nineteen.
The radiance of Missus Wolcott's face was still lingering in
Lyon's mind and diffusing a glow over his imagination when
he crossed the few steps that separated her house from Broughton's.
(00:25):
Broughton opened the door for him, as he had formed
the habit of doing. The anguished and despairing inquiry in
his eyes pulled Lion up sharply. He had come from
the morning to night, from the hope of youth to
the sorrow of age, from those whose story was to
end happily, to those who knew in their own hearts
(00:47):
the tragedy of life. You have nothing to tell me,
Broughton asked, though his tone showed he expected nothing. Lion
shook his head. No, you have heard nothing, nothing, nothing,
nothing from habit. He led Lyon into the dining room,
(01:07):
where they had always sat to smoke before retiring. But
the room showed no preparations for an evening of good cheer.
It was as blank and forlorn as Broughton's face. Where
can she be? He demanded, stopping in his restless walk
to face Lyon, imperiously ill as she was with God
(01:29):
knows what trouble on her mind and conscience. Where can
she have gone? Did she feel that it was impossible
to live? Did she go to her death? Or to
hide and wait for him? If you mean Lawrence, that's
all nonsense, said Lyon, calmly. I may tell you now
(01:49):
there were reasons why I couldn't before that. Lawrence is
deeply in love with miss Wolcott, who lives next door,
and she returns his sentiment. I am satisfied that their
formal engagement will be announced as soon as he is
cleared of this accusation. What of that, said Broughton, Dully,
(02:10):
he may be playing with a dozen women, for all
I know. He isn't that sort. He is the sort
that keeps up a secret correspondence with another man's wife
and lures her from her home and her husband. That
I know, and knowing that, I can't believe very much
good of him. In other ways, he knows where my
(02:32):
wife is now, I don't believe it. Well, he will
know before I do, said Broughton, sullenly. She has fled
because she was connected with that affair in some way.
It is even possible that she discovered I was watching.
And if she hasn't destroyed herself, she is gone where
(02:54):
she can wait for him. Lion felt helpless. The unreasoned
of jealousy comes so near to insanity that argument and
common sense are helpless before it. It can only be
mastered by authority or by an appeal to the emotions,
and Lion did not feel himself in position to offer
(03:14):
either to a man of woods Broughton's age and personal force. Well,
good night, he said, lamely. I'm going to bed, Go,
said Broughton. There is no reason why you should not sleep.
I shall not sleep until I know where she is.
Good God, this very minute, she may be a helpless
(03:37):
prisoner in some terrible den of infamy. She may be suffering,
though she cannot suffer as I do. Lion got away
from him and went up to the little back bedroom,
which had come to seem so homelike in the short
week that he had been there. Kitty's curtains were both down.
(03:57):
Of course, her faithfulness to their even to this disastrous end,
struck him as pathetic. Dear little girl, he murmured, and
blew a kiss across the night to her. One can
venture so much more in the night than in the
unsympathetic blaze of common day. How much farther he might
(04:19):
have gone on his excursion into sentiment can only be guessed,
For just then his eye was caught and his mind
diverted by something which, in a moment took on more
than a momentary importance. It was nothing more pretentious than
a lighted window in Miss Wolcott's home. The curious thing
(04:39):
about it was that he had never seen a light
in that second story window before. Every evening, when he
had looked for Kitty's signal, Miss Wolcott's house had presented
a perfectly blank and unobservant side to his view. Now
some one was occupying a room which corresponded with his
own room in this neighboring house. While his eye lingered
(05:03):
on the light in idle speculation, he saw and distinctly
recognized Miss Wolcott as she passed between the window and
the light in the room. The sight was not in
itself startling, and yet he started and metaphorically rubbed his eyes.
Miss Wolcott wore a hat. Instinctively, he looked at his watch,
(05:26):
it lacked a few minutes of eleven. Eleven o'clock in
Wainscott was an hour when respectable householders went to bed,
unless they went on a journey. Was it possible that
miss Wolcott was going out alone and unattended at this hour?
He had the greatest confidence in the innocence of her intentions,
(05:48):
whatever they were. But the story which she had told
had not given him the same prejudice in favor of
her discretion. What foolish plan might she have in her mind? Now?
Why had she said nothing of her intention when he
left her an hour ago? Distinctly worried, he reached for
the overcoat and hat, which he had thrown down on
(06:10):
a chair in his room, and then went back to
the window. If she was really bent on a midnight
errand he would escort her, whether she liked it or not,
he would quietly watch for the moment of her departure,
and then join her at her own front door. But
while he waited, another head crossed the lighted field of
(06:32):
the window, not Miss Wolcott's. She was not going alone, then,
for this woman also wore a hat, and about her
neck was the graceful line of an upturned fur collar.
He did not know Miss Wolcott's friends. He knew indeed,
very few women in Wainscott. And yet something teasingly familiar
(06:53):
about the lift of the head, the turn of the
neck puzzled him. Did he know her? And then suddenly
the solution of it all flashed upon him, That delicately
turned head belonged to Missus Broughton. Dolt idiot that he
was not to have reasoned it out before. Missus Broughton,
(07:16):
fleeing from Miss Eliot's by way of the secret panel
in the fence, had taken shelter at Miss Wolcott's. What
more natural, what more simple? And now under cover of
the night, she was preparing to continue her flight. In
a flash, without waiting for logical processes, Lion saw what
(07:37):
he must do. He hurled himself downstairs, three steps at
a time, and out of the front hall. As he
had expected, a carriage was waiting before Miss Wolcott's door.
He went up to the driver, ostentationally, looking at his watch.
When does the train leave? He asked, a seven forty five.
(08:01):
The man answered, oh, then there is time enough, he
said easily, and ran back to the house. Broughton, who
had been startled by Lion's noisy run through the hall,
was awaiting him at the front door. What's up, he
asked Lyon realized that the moment had come for the
(08:22):
autocratic dominance of the same mind. He put his hand
impressively on Broughton's shoulder and faced him sternly, imperiously. Mister Broughton,
if I could put you, at this moment face to
face with your wife, what would be your attitude toward her?
What do you mean? Gasped Broughton, too bewildered by this
(08:45):
new manner to really grasp Lion's words. Would you meet
her with accusation, doubt and coldness? Or will you hide
that unworthy side of your thought and let her see
the love that you really feel? Broughton's face darkened. If
she can satisfy my doubts, she must never know them,
(09:09):
and this for your sake more than hers. Think man,
how will you go through the years that lie before you?
If you must spend them with the constant knowledge that
you once failed her, that she knows it, and that
she can never more be proud of you or sure
of you. You will have made it necessary for her
to forgive you. Can you stand the humiliation of that knowledge?
(09:34):
She to forgive me, stammered Broughton. For what for doubting her?
You should have believed in her against every appearance. If
you want to hold your head up before her, never
let her know what traitor's doubts you have harbored. How
do you know that they are traitorers, asked Broughton, struggling
(09:56):
for a grip on his past passions. Because now listen
and understand exactly what this means. Because your wife, when
she fled from Miss Elliot's, took refuge with Miss Wolcott,
who is Lawrence's fiancee. Can you believe, for the thousandth
part of an instant that she would have gone to
(10:18):
that girl if there was anything between her and Lawrence?
It is unthinkable. Now hold that one fact firmly, Do
not forget it for a moment, and come with me
to your wife. He crushed Broughton's hat upon the bewildered
man's head and dragged him out and across the dividing
yards to Miss Wolcott's door. The whole episode had only
(10:42):
taken a few moments, but he breathed more freely when
he had actually got Broughton to the steps of the
other house before the women came out. There was no
time to spare. However, the door knob turned softly, the
door opened noiselessly, and the two women stood there, cloaked
and veiled, ready to set forth. Instead, Lion drew Broughton inside,
(11:09):
as though the door had been opened for the purpose
of admitting them. I must beg that you give me
a few moments, Miss Wolcot, Lion began, but the need
of making any explanation was taken from him. The lady,
who at their first appearance had shrunk back of Miss Wolcott,
suddenly gave a little inarticulate cry and threw herself upon
(11:32):
Broughton's breast. Woods, Oh woods, where did you come from?
She cried, and burst into tears. Lion held his breath
in suspense. But it is not in masculine nature to
thrust away a beautiful, sobbing woman. Broughton's arms lifted to
enclose her, and his voice murmured, not ungently, there there, grace,
(11:58):
control yourself. Lion turned to Miss Wolcott, trying to leave
the reunited husband and wife in as much privacy as
the situation, admitted, What is your plan? Where are you going?
He asked urgently. She had thrown back her veil, and
her face was pale but resolute. We were trying to escape,
(12:21):
she said, from whom that terrible detective he had found,
missus Broughton. He went to see her yesterday and told her.
She stopped abruptly, and a shudder shook her visibly. What
did he tell her? In charity? Let me know? He
(12:44):
told her she would have to appear as a witness
at the trial and give testimony against me, against you.
The room reeled before Lyon's eyes, but he pulled himself together.
Let me dismt miss your carriage, and then you must
tell me what you mean. It was wild of you
(13:05):
to try to run away in the first place. You
would not be able to take any train without being stopped.
The police know of missus Broughton's disappearance and are watching
all outgoing trains, of course, besides, but let us dispose
of the carriage first. He went to the door and
(13:26):
dismissed the coachman. As he came back, he saw that
Broughton had disengaged his wife's arms and was facing her
with that jealous sternness in his eyes that Lyon had dreaded.
But to leave my home secretly at the urging of
anyone was not what I had a right to expect
(13:48):
of my wife. I have reason to demand an explanation.
The tears were still sparkling on missus Broughton's lashes, but
she looked up at him with a steady glance. I'm
not your wife, she said quietly. End of Chapter nineteen.
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