The Mystery of the Hasty ArrowGreen, Anna Katharine
General
The Mystery of the Hasty Arrow
Green, Anna Katharine
Detective and mystery stories
"But the devil knew me better than I knew myself. Impelled by these
same instincts, I answered the letter sent me with the assurance that I
would surely see her, but I did not name any day, intuitively knowing
that what I dreamed of doing but certainly should not do required a
certain set of circumstances not easily to be met with. Instead, I bade
her show herself in the second section of the southern gallery, every
Tuesday and Friday at the exact hour of noon. If at the moment the two
hands of the clock came together, she saw me on the lower step of the
main staircase, she was to know that I was free to talk and would soon
join her. If she did not see me there, she was to return home and come
another day. She answered that she would come but once, and set the
day. This was startling to my pride, but in a way it brought me a sense
of relief. To wait till all was propitious might mean continual delays.
The very fact of my uncertainty as to whether or not I should have the
courage of my wishes at the critical moment made an indefinite
prolongation of my present condition undesirable. Better one straight
risk and be done with it.
"I was to wait two weeks. Why she exacted so long and seemingly
unnecessary a delay, I do not know. Before I saw her, I thought it was
from a sheer desire to make me suffer; now I know it was not for that.
However, it did make me suffer, from the alternate weakening and
strengthening of my resolve. When the day came, the most trivial of
circumstances would have deterred me from what still had the nature of
a dream to me. Unhappily, everything worked for its fulfillment. There
had never been fewer persons in the building at the noon hour; nor had
there been a time during the past two weeks when the Curator was more
completely occupied in a spot quite remote from his office. As I tried
the door leading up the little winding staircase to the one back of the
tapestry where the bow lay, and found it, just as I had left it,
unlocked, I had a sense for the first time that the courage concerning
which I had had so many doubts would hold. At that moment I was a
murderer in heart and purpose, whatever I was after or have been since.
As I recognized this fact, I felt my face go pale and my limbs shake
from sheer horror of myself. But this weakness was short-lived and I
felt my blood flowing evenly again when having slipped into my place
behind the upper pedestal I peered through my peep-hole in a search for
her figure in the spot where I had bidden her await me.
"She was not there, but then it was not quite twelve, though the noon
hour was so near she must be somewhere in the gallery and liable at any
minute to cross my line of vision.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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