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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/18761-8.txt b/18761-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..83c41d8 --- /dev/null +++ b/18761-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6675 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Circular Study, by Anna Katharine Green + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Circular Study + +Author: Anna Katharine Green + +Release Date: July 5, 2006 [EBook #18761] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CIRCULAR STUDY *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + THE CIRCULAR STUDY + + BY ANNA KATHARINE GREEN + + 1900 + + DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY + GARDEN CITY NEW YORK + 1914 + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + BOOK I.--A STRANGE CRIME. + + I.--Red Light + + II.--Mysteries + + III.--The Mute Servitor + + IV.--A New Experience for Mr. Gryce + + V.--Five Small Spangles + + VI.--Suggestions From an Old Friend + + VII.--Amos's Son + + VIII.--In the Round of the Staircase + + IX.--High and Low + + X.--Bride Roses + + XI.--Misery + + XII.--Thomas Explains + + XIII.--Despair + + XIV.--Memoranda + + + BOOK II.--REMEMBER EVELYN. + + I.--The Secret of the Cadwaladers + + II.--The Oath + + III.--Eva + + IV.--Felix + + V.--Why the Iron Slide Remained Stationary + + VI.--Answered + + VII.--Last Words + + + + +BOOK I + +A STRANGE CRIME + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +RED LIGHT. + + +Mr. Gryce was melancholy. He had attained that period in life when the +spirits flag and enthusiasm needs a constant spur, and of late there had +been a lack of special excitement, and he felt dull and superannuated. +He was even contemplating resigning his position on the force and +retiring to the little farm he had bought for himself in Westchester; +and this in itself did not tend to cheerfulness, for he was one to whom +action was a necessity and the exercise of his mental faculties more +inspiring than any possible advantage which might accrue to him from +their use. + +But he was not destined to carry out this impulse yet. For just at the +height of his secret dissatisfaction there came a telephone message to +Headquarters which roused the old man to something like his former vigor +and gave to the close of this gray fall day an interest he had not +expected to feel again in this or any other kind of day. It was sent +from Carter's well-known drug store, and was to the effect that a lady +had just sent a boy in from the street to say that a strange crime had +been committed in ----'s mansion round the corner. The boy did not know +the lady, and was shy about showing the money she had given him, but +that he had money was very evident, also, that he was frightened enough +for his story to be true. If the police wished to communicate with him, +he could be found at Carter's, where he would be detained till an order +for his release should be received. + +A _strange_ crime! That word "strange" struck Mr. Gryce, and made him +forget his years in wondering what it meant. Meanwhile the men about him +exchanged remarks upon the house brought thus unexpectedly to their +notice. As it was one of the few remaining landmarks of the preceding +century, and had been made conspicuous moreover by the shops, +club-houses, and restaurants pressing against it on either side, it had +been a marked spot for years even to those who knew nothing of its +history or traditions. + +And now a crime had taken place in it! Mr. Gryce, in whose ears that +word "strange" rang with quiet insistence, had but to catch the eye of +the inspector in charge to receive an order to investigate the affair. +He started at once, and proceeded first to the drug store. There he +found the boy, whom he took along with him to the house indicated in the +message. On the way he made him talk, but there was nothing the poor +waif could add to the story already sent over the telephone. He +persisted in saying that a lady (he did not say woman) had come up to +him while he was looking at some toys in a window, and, giving him a +piece of money, had drawn him along the street as far as the drug store. +Here she showed him another coin, promising to add it to the one he had +already pocketed if he would run in to the telephone clerk with a +message for the police. He wanted the money, and when he grabbed at it +she said that all he had to do was to tell the clerk that a strange +crime had been committed in the old house on ---- Street. This scared +him, and he was sliding off, when she caught him again and shook him +until his wits came back, after which he ran into the store and +delivered the message. + +There was candor in the boy's tone, and Mr. Gryce was disposed to +believe him; but when he was asked to describe the lady, he showed that +his powers of observation were no better than those of most of his +class. All he could say was that she was a stunner, and wore shiny +clothes and jewels, and Mr. Gryce, recognizing the lad's limitations at +the very moment he found himself in view of the house he was making for, +ceased to question him, and directed all his attention to the building +he was approaching. + +Nothing in the exterior bespoke crime or even disturbance. A shut door, +a clean stoop, heavily curtained windows (some of which were further +shielded by closely drawn shades) were eloquent of inner quiet and +domestic respectability, while its calm front of brick, with brownstone +trimmings, offered a pleasing contrast to the adjoining buildings +jutting out on either side, alive with signs and humming with business. + +"Some mistake," muttered Gryce to himself, as the perfect calm reigning +over the whole establishment struck him anew. But before he had decided +that he had been made the victim of a hoax, a movement took place in the +area under the stoop, and an officer stepped out, with a countenance +expressive of sufficient perplexity for Mr. Gryce to motion him back +with the hurried inquiry: "Anything wrong? Any blood shed? All seems +quiet here." + +The officer, recognizing the old detective, touched his hat. "Can't get +in," said he. "Have rung all the bells. Would think the house empty if I +had not seen something like a stir in one of the windows overhead. Shall +I try to make my way into the rear yard through one of the lower windows +of Knapp & Co.'s store, next door?" + +"Yes, and take this boy with you. Lock him up in some one of their +offices, and then break your way into this house by some means. It ought +to be easy enough from the back yard." + +The officer nodded, took the boy by the arm, and in a trice had +disappeared with him into the adjoining store. Mr. Gryce remained in the +area, where he was presently besieged by a crowd of passers-by, eager to +add their curiosity to the trouble they had so quickly scented. The +opening of the door from the inside speedily put an end to importunities +for which he had as yet no reply, and he was enabled to slip within, +where he found himself in a place of almost absolute quiet. Before him +lay a basement hall leading to a kitchen, which, even at that moment, he +noticed to be in trimmer condition than is usual where much housework is +done, but he saw nothing that bespoke tragedy, or even a break in the +ordinary routine of life as observed in houses of like size and +pretension. + +Satisfied that what he sought was not to be found here, he followed the +officer upstairs. As they emerged upon the parlor floor, the latter +dropped the following information: + +"Mr. Raffner of the firm next door says that the man who lives here is +an odd sort of person whom nobody knows; a bookworm, I think they call +him. He has occupied the house six months, yet they have never seen any +one about the premise but himself and a strange old servant as peculiar +and uncommunicative as his master." + +"I know," muttered Mr. Gryce. He did know, everybody knew, that this +house, once the seat of one of New York's most aristocratic families, +was inhabited at present by a Mr. Adams, noted alike for his more than +common personal attractions, his wealth, and the uncongenial nature of +his temperament, which precluded all association with his kind. It was +this knowledge which had given zest to this investigation. To enter the +house of such a man was an event in itself: to enter it on an errand of +life and death--Well, it is under the inspiration of such opportunities +that life is reawakened in old veins, especially when those veins +connect the heart and brain of a sagacious, if octogenarian, detective. + +The hall in which they now found themselves was wide, old-fashioned, and +sparsely furnished in the ancient manner to be observed in such +time-honored structures. Two doors led into this hall, both of which now +stood open. Taking advantage of this fact, they entered the nearest, +which was nearly opposite the top of the staircase they had just +ascended, and found themselves in a room barren as a doctor's outer +office. There was nothing here worth their attention, and they would +have left the place as unceremoniously as they had entered it if they +had not caught glimpses of richness which promised an interior of +uncommon elegance, behind the half-drawn folds of a portière at the +further end of the room. + +Advancing through the doorway thus indicated, they took one look about +them and stood appalled. Nothing in their experience (and they had both +experienced much) had prepared them for the thrilling, the solemn nature +of what they were here called upon to contemplate. + +Shall I attempt its description? + +A room small and of circular shape, hung with strange tapestries +relieved here and there by priceless curios, and lit, although it was +still daylight, by a jet of rose-colored light concentrated, not on the +rows and rows of books around the lower portion of the room, or on the +one great picture which at another time might have drawn the eye and +held the attention, but on the upturned face of a man lying on a +bearskin rug with a dagger in his heart and on his breast a cross whose +golden lines, sharply outlined against his long, dark, swathing garment, +gave him the appearance of a saint prepared in some holy place for +burial, save that the dagger spoke of violent death, and his face of an +anguish for which Mr. Gryce, notwithstanding his lifelong experience, +found no name, so little did it answer to a sensation of fear, pain, or +surprise, or any of the emotions usually visible on the countenances of +such as have fallen under the unexpected stroke of an assassin. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +MYSTERIES. + + +A moment of indecision, of awe even, elapsed before Mr. Gryce recovered +himself. The dim light, the awesome silence, the unexpected surroundings +recalling a romantic age, the motionless figure of him who so lately had +been the master of the house, lying outstretched as for the tomb, with +the sacred symbol on his breast offering such violent contradiction to +the earthly passion which had driven the dagger home, were enough to +move even the tried spirit of this old officer of the law and confuse a +mind which, in the years of his long connection with the force, had had +many serious problems to work upon, but never one just like this. + +It was only for a moment, though. Before the man behind him had given +utterance to his own bewilderment and surprise, Mr. Gryce had passed in +and taken his stand by the prostrate figure. + +That it was that of a man who had long since ceased to breathe he could +not for a moment doubt; yet his first act was to make sure of the fact +by laying his hand on the pulse and examining the eyes, whose expression +of reproach was such that he had to call up all his professional +sangfroid to meet them. + +He found the body still warm, but dead beyond all question, and, once +convinced of this, he forbore to draw the dagger from the wound, though +he did not fail to give it the most careful attention before turning his +eyes elsewhere. It was no ordinary weapon. It was a curio from some +oriental shop. This in itself seemed to point to suicide, but the +direction in which the blade had entered the body and the position of +the wound were not such as would be looked for in a case of self-murder. + +The other clews were few. Though the scene had been one of bloodshed and +death, the undoubted result of a sudden and fierce attack, there were no +signs of struggle to be found in the well-ordered apartment. Beyond a +few rose leaves scattered on the floor, the room was a scene of peace +and quiet luxury. Even the large table which occupied the centre of the +room and near which the master of the house had been standing when +struck gave no token of the tragedy which had been enacted at its side. +That is, not at first glance; for though its large top was covered with +articles of use and ornament, they all stood undisturbed and presumably +in place, as if the shock which had laid their owner low had failed to +be communicated to his belongings. + +The contents of the table were various. Only a man of complex tastes and +attainments could have collected and arranged in one small compass +pipes, pens, portraits, weights, measures, Roman lamps, Venetian glass, +rare porcelains, medals, rough metal work, manuscript, a scroll of +music, a pot of growing flowers, and--and--(this seemed oddest of all) a +row of electric buttons, which Mr. Gryce no sooner touched than the +light which had been burning redly in the cage of fretted ironwork +overhead changed in a twinkling to a greenish glare, filling the room +with such ghastly tints that Mr. Gryce sought in haste another button, +and, pressing it, was glad to see a mild white radiance take the place +of the sickly hue which had added its own horror to the already solemn +terrors of the spot. + +"Childish tricks for a man of his age and position," ruminated Mr. +Gryce; but after catching another glimpse of the face lying upturned at +his feet he was conscious of a doubt as to whether the owner of that +countenance could have possessed an instinct which was in any wise +childish, so strong and purposeful were his sharply cut features. +Indeed, the face was one to make an impression under any circumstances. +In the present instance, and with such an expression stamped upon it, it +exerted a fascination which disturbed the current of the detective's +thoughts whenever by any chance he allowed it to get between him and his +duty. To attribute folly to a man with such a mouth and such a chin was +to own one's self a poor judge of human nature. Therefore, the lamp +overhead, with its electric connection and changing slides, had a +meaning which at present could be sought for only in the evidences of +scientific research observable in the books and apparatus everywhere +surrounding him. + +Letting the white light burn on, Mr. Gryce, by a characteristic effort, +shifted his attention to the walls, covered, as I have said, with +tapestries and curios. There was nothing on them calculated to aid him +in his research into the secret of this crime, unless--yes, there _was_ +something, a bent-down nail, wrenched from its place, the nail on which +the cross had hung which now lay upon the dead man's heart. The cord by +which it had been suspended still clung to the cross and mingled its red +threads with that other scarlet thread which had gone to meet it from +the victim's wounded breast. Who had torn down that cross? Not the +victim himself. With such a wound, any such movement would have been +impossible. Besides, the nail and the empty place on the wall were as +far removed from where he lay as was possible in the somewhat +circumscribed area of this circular apartment. Another's hand, then, had +pulled down this symbol of peace and pardon, and placed it where the +dying man's fleeting breath would play across it, a peculiar exhibition +of religious hope or mad remorse, to the significance of which Mr. Gryce +could not devote more than a passing thought, so golden were the moments +in which he found himself alone upon this scene of crime. + +Behind the table and half-way up the wall was a picture, the only large +picture in the room. It was the portrait of a young girl of an extremely +interesting and pathetic beauty. From her garb and the arrangement of +her hair, it had evidently been painted about the end of our civil war. +In it was to be observed the same haunting quality of intellectual charm +visible in the man lying prone upon the floor, and though she was fair +and he dark, there was sufficient likeness between the two to argue some +sort of relationship between them. Below this picture were fastened a +sword, a pair of epaulettes, and a medal such as was awarded for valor +in the civil war. + +"Mementoes which may help us in our task," mused the detective. + +Passing on, he came unexpectedly upon a narrow curtain, so dark of hue +and so akin in pattern to the draperies on the adjoining walls that it +had up to this time escaped his attention. It was not that of a window, +for such windows as were to be seen in this unique apartment were high +upon the wall, indeed, almost under the ceiling. It must, therefore, +drape the opening into still another communicating room. And such he +found to be the case. Pushing this curtain aside, he entered a narrow +closet containing a bed, a dresser, and a small table. The bed was the +narrow cot of a bachelor, and the dresser that of a man of luxurious +tastes and the utmost nicety of habit. Both the bed and dresser were in +perfect order, save for a silver-backed comb, which had been taken from +the latter, and which he presently found lying on the floor at the other +end of the room. This and the presence of a pearl-handled parasol on a +small stand near the door proclaimed that a woman had been there within +a short space of time. The identity of this woman was soon established +in his eyes by a small but unmistakable token connecting her with the +one who had been the means of sending in the alarm to the police. The +token of which I speak was a little black spangle, called by milliners +and mantua-makers a sequin, which lay on the threshold separating this +room from the study; and as Mr. Gryce, attracted by its sparkle, stooped +to examine it, his eye caught sight of a similar one on the floor +beyond, and of still another a few steps farther on. The last one lay +close to the large centre-table before which he had just been standing. + +The dainty trail formed by these bright sparkling drops seemed to affect +him oddly. He knew, minute observer that he was, that in the manufacture +of this garniture the spangles are strung on a thread which, if once +broken, allows them to drop away one by one, till you can almost follow +a woman so arrayed by the sequins that fall from her. Perhaps it was the +delicate nature of the clew thus offered that pleased him, perhaps it +was a recognition of the irony of fate in thus making a trap for unwary +mortals out of their vanities. Whatever it was, the smile with which he +turned his eye upon the table toward which he had thus been led was very +eloquent. But before examining this article of furniture more closely, +he attempted to find out where the thread had become loosened which had +let the spangles fall. Had it caught on any projection in doorway or +furniture? He saw none. All the chairs were cushioned and--But wait! +there was the cross! That had a fretwork of gold at its base. Might not +this filagree have caught in her dress as she was tearing down the cross +from the wall and so have started the thread which had given him this +exquisite clew? + +Hastening to the spot where the cross had hung, he searched the floor at +his feet, but found nothing to confirm his conjecture until he had +reached the rug on which the prostrate man lay. There, amid the long +hairs of the bearskin, he came upon one other spangle, and knew that the +woman in the shiny clothes had stooped there before him. + +Satisfied on this point, he returned to the table, and this time +subjected it to a thorough and minute examination. That the result was +not entirely unsatisfactory was evident from the smile with which he +eyed his finger after having drawn it across a certain spot near the +inkstand, and also from the care with which he lifted that inkstand and +replaced it in precisely the same spot from which he had taken it up. +Had he expected to find something concealed under it? Who can tell? A +detective's face seldom yields up its secrets. + +He was musing quite intently before this table when a quick step behind +him made him turn. Styles, the officer, having now been over the house, +had returned, and was standing before him in the attitude of one who has +something to say. + +"What is it?" asked Mr. Gryce, with a quick movement in his direction. + +For answer the officer pointed to the staircase visible through the +antechamber door. + +"Go up!" was indicated by his gesture. + +Mr. Gryce demurred, casting a glance around the room, which at that +moment interested him so deeply. At this the man showed some excitement, +and, breaking silence, said: + +"Come! I have lighted on the guilty party. He is in a room upstairs." + +"He?" Mr. Gryce was evidently surprised at the pronoun. + +"Yes; there can be no doubt about it. When you see him--but what is +that? Is he coming down? I'm sure there's nobody else in the house. +Don't you hear footsteps, sir?" + +Mr. Gryce nodded. Some one was certainly descending the stairs. + +"Let us retreat," suggested Styles. "Not because the man is dangerous, +but because it is very necessary you should see him before he sees you. +He's a very strange-acting man, sir; and if he comes in here, will be +sure to do something to incriminate himself. Where can we hide?" + +Mr. Gryce remembered the little room he had just left, and drew the +officer toward it. Once installed inside, he let the curtain drop till +only a small loophole remained. The steps, which had been gradually +growing louder, kept advancing; and presently they could hear the +intruder's breathing, which was both quick and labored. + +"Does he know that any one has entered the house? Did he see you when +you came upon him upstairs?" whispered Mr. Gryce into the ear of the man +beside him. + +Styles shook his head, and pointed eagerly toward the opposite door. The +man for whose appearance they waited had just lifted the portière and in +another moment stood in full view just inside the threshold. + +Mr. Gryce and his attendant colleague both stared. Was this the +murderer? This pale, lean servitor, with a tray in his hand on which +rested a single glass of water? + +Mr. Gryce was so astonished that he looked at Styles for explanation. +But that officer, hiding his own surprise, for he had not expected this +peaceful figure, urged him in a whisper to have patience, and both, +turning toward the man again, beheld him advance, stop, cast one look at +the figure lying on the floor and then let slip the glass with a low cry +that at once changed to something like a howl. + +"Look at him! Look at him!" urged Styles, in a hurried whisper. "Watch +what he will do now. You will see a murderer at work." + +And sure enough, in another instant this strange being, losing all +semblance to his former self, entered upon a series of pantomimic +actions which to the two men who watched him seemed both to explain and +illustrate the crime which had just been enacted there. + +With every appearance of passion, he stood contemplating the empty air +before him, and then, with one hand held stretched out behind him in a +peculiarly cramped position, he plunged with the other toward a table +from which he made a feint of snatching something which he no sooner +closed his hand upon than he gave a quick side-thrust, still at the +empty air, which seemed to quiver in return, so vigorous was his action +and so evident his intent. + +The reaction following this thrust; the slow unclosing of his hand from +an imaginary dagger; the tottering of his body backward; then the moment +when with wide open eyes he seemed to contemplate in horror the result +of his own deed;--these needed no explanation beyond what was given by +his writhing features and trembling body. Gradually succumbing to the +remorse or terror of his own crime, he sank lower and lower, until, +though with that one arm still stretched out, he lay in an inert heap on +the floor. + +"It is what I saw him do upstairs," murmured Styles into the ear of the +amazed detective. "He has evidently been driven insane by his own act." + +Mr. Gryce made no answer. Here was a problem for the solution of which +he found no precedent in all his past experience. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE MUTE SERVITOR. + + +Meanwhile the man who, to all appearance, had just re-enacted before +them the tragedy which had so lately taken place in this room, rose to +his feet, and, with a dazed air as unlike his former violent expression +as possible, stooped for the glass he had let fall, and was carrying it +out when Mr. Gryce called to him: + +"Wait, man! You needn't take that glass away. We first want to hear how +your master comes to be lying here dead." + +It was a demand calculated to startle any man. But this one showed +himself totally unmoved by it, and was passing on when Styles laid a +detaining hand on his shoulder. + +"Stop!" said he. "What do you mean by sliding off like this? Don't you +hear the gentleman speaking to you?" + +This time the appeal told. The glass fell again from the man's hand, +mingling its clink (for it struck the floor this time and broke) with +the cry he gave--which was not exactly a cry either, but an odd sound +between a moan and a shriek. He had caught sight of the men who were +seeking to detain him, and his haggard look and cringing form showed +that he realized at last the terrors of his position. Next minute he +sought to escape, but Styles, gripping him more firmly, dragged him back +to where Mr. Gryce stood beside the bearskin rug on which lay the form +of his dead master. + +Instantly, at the sight of this recumbent figure, another change took +place in the entrapped butler. Joy--that most hellish of passions in the +presence of violence and death--illumined his wandering eye and +distorted his mouth; and, seeking no disguise for the satisfaction he +felt, he uttered a low but thrilling laugh, which rang in unholy echo +through the room. + +Mr. Gryce, moved in spite of himself by an abhorrence which the +irresponsible condition of this man seemed only to emphasize, waited +till the last faint sounds of this diabolical mirth had died away in the +high recesses of the space above. Then, fixing the glittering eye of +this strange creature with his own, which, as we know, so seldom dwelt +upon that of his fellow-beings, he sternly said: + +"There now! Speak! Who killed this man? You were in the house with him, +and should know." + +The butler's lips opened and a string of strange gutturals poured forth, +while with his one disengaged hand (for the other was held to his side +by Styles) he touched his ears and his lips, and violently shook his +head. + +There was but one interpretation to be given to this. The man was deaf +and dumb. + +The shock of this discovery was too much for Styles. His hand fell from +the other's arms, and the man, finding himself free, withdrew to his +former place in the room, where he proceeded to enact again and with +increased vivacity first the killing of and then the mourning for his +master, which but a few moments before had made so suggestive an +impression upon them. This done, he stood waiting, but this time with +that gleam of infernal joy in the depths of his quick, restless eyes +which made his very presence in this room of death seem a sacrilege and +horror. + +Styles could not stand it. "Can't you speak?" he shouted. "Can't you +hear?" + +The man only smiled, an evil and gloating smile, which Mr. Gryce thought +it his duty to cut short. + +"Take him away!" he cried. "Examine him carefully for blood marks. I am +going up to the room where you saw him first. He is too nearly linked to +this crime not to carry some trace of it away with him." + +But for once even this time-tried detective found himself at fault. No +marks were found on the old servant, nor could they discover in the +rooms above any signs by which this one remaining occupant of the house +could be directly associated with the crime which had taken place within +it. Thereupon Mr. Gryce grew very thoughtful and entered upon another +examination of the two rooms which to his mind held all the clews that +would ever be given to this strange crime. + +The result was meagre, and he was just losing himself again in +contemplation of the upturned face, whose fixed mouth and haunting +expression told such a story of suffering and determination, when there +came from the dim recesses above his head a cry, which, forming itself +into two words, rang down with startling clearness in this most +unexpected of appeals: + +"Remember Evelyn!" + +Remember Evelyn! Who was Evelyn? And to whom did this voice belong, in a +house which had already been ransacked in vain for other occupants? It +seemed to come from the roof, and, sure enough, when Mr. Gryce looked up +he saw, swinging in a cage strung up nearly to the top of one of the +windows I have mentioned, an English starling, which, in seeming +recognition of the attention it had drawn upon itself, craned its neck +as Mr. Gryce looked up, and shrieked again, with fiercer insistence than +before: + +"Remember Evelyn!" + +It was the last uncanny touch in a series of uncanny experiences. With +an odd sense of nightmare upon him, Mr. Gryce leaned forward on the +study table in his effort to obtain a better view of this bird, when, +without warning, the white light, which since his last contact with the +electrical apparatus had spread itself through the room, changed again +to green, and he realized that he had unintentionally pressed a button +and thus brought into action another slide in the curious lamp over his +head. + +Annoyed, for these changing hues offered a problem he was as yet too +absorbed in other matters to make any attempt to solve, he left the +vicinity of the table, and was about to leave the room when he heard +Styles's voice rise from the adjoining antechamber, where Styles was +keeping guard over the old butler: + +"Shall I let him go, Mr. Gryce? He seems very uneasy; not dangerous, you +know, but anxious; as if he had forgotten something or recalled some +unfulfilled duty." + +"Yes, let him go," was the detective's quick reply. "Only watch and +follow him. Every movement he makes is of interest. Unconsciously he may +be giving us invaluable clews." And he approached the door to note for +himself what the man might do. + +"Remember Evelyn!" rang out the startling cry from above, as the +detective passed between the curtains. Irresistibly he looked back and +up. To whom was this appeal from a bird's throat so imperatively +addressed? To him or to the man on the floor beneath, whose ears were +forever closed? It might be a matter of little consequence, and it might +be one involving the very secret of this tragedy. But whether important +or not, he could pay no heed to it at this juncture, for the old butler, +coming from the front hall whither he had hurried on being released by +Styles, was at that moment approaching him, carrying in one hand his +master's hat and in the other his master's umbrella. + +Not knowing what this new movement might mean, Mr. Gryce paused where he +was and waited for the man to advance. Seeing this, the mute, to whose +face and bearing had returned the respectful immobility of the trained +servant, handed over the articles he had brought, and then noiselessly, +and with the air of one who had performed an expected service, retreated +to his old place in the antechamber, where he sat down again and fell +almost immediately into his former dazed condition. + +"Humph! mind quite lost, memory uncertain, testimony valueless," were +the dissatisfied reflections of the disappointed detective as he +replaced Mr. Adams's hat and umbrella on the hall rack. "Has he been +brought to this state by the tragedy which has just taken place here, or +is his present insane condition its precursor and cause?" Mr. Gryce +might have found some answer to this question in his own mind if, at +that moment, the fitful clanging of the front door bell, which had +hitherto testified to the impatience of the curious crowd outside, had +not been broken into by an authoritative knock which at once put an end +to all self-communing. + +The coroner, or some equally important person, was at hand, and the +detective's golden hour was over. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +A NEW EXPERIENCE FOR MR. GRYCE. + + +Mr. Gryce felt himself at a greater disadvantage in his attempt to solve +the mystery of this affair than in any other which he had entered upon +in years. First, the victim had been a solitary man, with no household +save his man-of-all-work, the mute. Secondly, he had lived in a portion +of the city where no neighbors were possible; and he had even lacked, as +it now seemed, any very active friends. Though some hours had elapsed +since his death had been noised abroad, no one had appeared at the door +with inquiries or information. This seemed odd, considering that he had +been for some months a marked figure in this quarter of the town. But, +then, everything about this man was odd, nor would it have been in +keeping with his surroundings and peculiar manner of living for him to +have had the ordinary associations of men of his class. + +This absence of the usual means of eliciting knowledge from the +surrounding people, added to, rather than detracted from, the interest +which Mr. Gryce was bound to feel in the case, and it was with a feeling +of relief that a little before midnight he saw the army of reporters, +medical men, officials, and such others as had followed in the coroner's +wake, file out of the front door and leave him again, for a few hours at +least, master of the situation. + +For there were yet two points which he desired to settle before he took +his own much-needed rest. The first occupied his immediate attention. +Passing before a chair in the hall on which a small boy sat dozing, he +roused him with the remark: + +"Come, Jake, it's time to look lively. I want you to go with me to the +exact place where that lady ran across you to-day." + +The boy, half dead with sleep, looked around him for his hat. + +"I'd like to see my mother first," he pleaded. "She must be done up +about me. I never stayed away so long before." + +"Your mother knows where you are. I sent a message to her hours ago. She +gave a very good report of you, Jake; says you're an obedient lad and +that you never have told her a falsehood." + +"She's a good mother," the boy warmly declared. "I'd be as bad--as bad +as my father was, if I did not treat her well." Here his hand fell on +his cap, which he put on his head. + +"I'm ready," said he. + +Mr. Gryce at once led the way into the street. + +The hour was late, and only certain portions of the city showed any real +activity. Into one of these thoroughfares they presently came, and +before the darkened window of one of the lesser shops paused, while Jake +pointed out the two stuffed frogs engaged with miniature swords in +mortal combat at which he had been looking when the lady came up and +spoke to him. + +Mr. Gryce eyed the boy rather than the frogs, though probably the former +would have sworn that his attention had never left that miniature +conflict. + +"Was she a pretty lady?" he asked. + +The boy scratched his head in some perplexity. + +"She made me a good deal afraid of her," he said. "She had very splendid +clothes; oh, gorgeous!" he cried, as if on this question there could be +no doubt. + +"And she was young, and carried a bunch of flowers, and seemed troubled? +What! not young, and carried no flowers--and wasn't even anxious and +trembling?" + +The boy, who had been shaking his head, looked nonplussed. + +"I think as she was what you might call troubled. But she wasn't crying, +and when she spoke to me, she put more feeling into her grip than into +her voice. She just dragged me to the drug-store, sir. If she hadn't +given me money first, I should have wriggled away in spite of her. But I +likes money, sir; I don't get too much of it." + +Mr. Gryce by this time was moving on. "Not young," he repeated to +himself. "Some old flame, then, of Mr. Adams; they're apt to be +dangerous, very dangerous, more dangerous than the young ones." + +In front of the drug-store he paused. "Show me where she stood while you +went in." + +The boy pointed out the identical spot. He seemed as eager as the +detective. + +"And was she standing there when you came out?" + +"Oh, no, sir; she went away while I was inside." + +"Did you see her go? Can you tell me whether she went up street or +down?" + +"I had one eye on her, sir; I was afraid she was coming into the shop +after me, and my arm was too sore for me to want her to clinch hold on +it again. So when she started to go, I took a step nearer, and saw her +move toward the curbstone and hold up her hand. But it wasn't a car she +was after, for none came by for several minutes." + +The fold between Mr. Gryce's eyes perceptibly smoothed out. + +"Then it was some cabman or hack-driver she hailed. Were there any empty +coaches about that you saw?" + +The boy had not noticed. He had reached the limit of his observations, +and no amount of further questioning could elicit anything more from +him. This Mr. Gryce soon saw, and giving him into the charge of one of +his assistants who was on duty at this place, he proceeded back to the +ill-omened house where the tragedy itself had occurred. + +"Any one waiting for me?" he inquired of Styles, who came to the door. + +"Yes, sir; a young man; name, Hines. Says he's an electrician." + +"That's the man I want. Where is he?" + +"In the parlor, sir." + +"Good! I'll see him. But don't let any one else in. Anybody upstairs?" + +"No, sir, all gone. Shall I go up or stay here?" + +"You'd better go up. I'll look after the door." + +Styles nodded, and went toward the stairs, up which he presently +disappeared. Mr. Gryce proceeded to the parlor. + +A dapper young man with an intelligent eye rose to meet him. "You sent +for me," said he. + +The detective nodded, asked a few questions, and seeming satisfied with +the replies he received, led the way into Mr. Adams's study, from which +the body had been removed to an upper room. As they entered, a mild +light greeted them from a candle which, by Mr. Gryce's orders, had been +placed on a small side table near the door. But once in, Mr. Gryce +approached the larger table in the centre of the room, and placing his +hand on one of the buttons before him, asked his companion to be kind +enough to blow out the candle. This he did, leaving the room for a +moment in total darkness. Then with a sudden burst of illumination, a +marvellous glow of a deep violet color shot over the whole room, and the +two men turned and faced each other both with inquiry in their looks, so +unexpected was this theatrical effect to the one, and so inexplicable +its cause and purpose to the other. + +"That is but one slide," remarked Mr. Gryce. "Now I will press another +button, and the color changes to--pink, as you see. This one produces +green, this one white, and this a bilious yellow, which is not becoming +to either of us, I am sure. Now will you examine the connection, and see +if there is anything peculiar about it?" + +Mr. Hines at once set to work. But beyond the fact that the whole +contrivance was the work of an amateur hand, he found nothing strange +about it, except the fact that it worked so well. + +Mr. Gryce showed disappointment. + +"He made it, then, himself?" he asked. + +"Undoubtedly, or some one else equally unacquainted with the latest +method of wiring." + +"Will you look at these books over here and see if sufficient knowledge +can be got from them to enable an amateur to rig up such an arrangement +as this?" + +Mr. Hines glanced at the shelf which Mr. Gryce had pointed out, and +without taking out the books, answered briefly: + +"A man with a deft hand and a scientific turn of mind might, by the aid +of these, do all you see here and more. The aptitude is all." + +"Then I'm afraid Mr. Adams had the aptitude," was the dry response. +There was disappointment in the tone. Why, his next words served to +show. "A man with a turn for mechanical contrivances often wastes much +time and money on useless toys only fit for children to play with. Look +at that bird cage now. Perched at a height totally beyond the reach of +any one without a ladder, it must owe its very evident usefulness (for +you see it holds a rather lively occupant) to some contrivance by which +it can be raised and lowered at will. Where is that contrivance? Can you +find it?" + +The expert thought he could. And, sure enough, after some ineffectual +searching, he came upon another button well hid amid the tapestry on the +wall, which, when pressed, caused something to be disengaged which +gradually lowered the cage within reach of Mr. Gryce's hand. + +"We will not send this poor bird aloft again," said he, detaching the +cage and holding it for a moment in his hand. "An English starling is +none too common in this country. Hark! he is going to speak." + +But the sharp-eyed bird, warned perhaps by the emphatic gesture of the +detective that silence would be more in order at this moment than his +usual appeal to "remember Evelyn," whisked about in his cage for an +instant, and then subsided into a doze, which may have been real, and +may have been assumed under the fascinating eye of the old gentleman who +held him. Mr. Gryce placed the cage on the floor, and idly, or because +the play pleased him, old and staid as he was, pressed another button on +the table--a button he had hitherto neglected touching--and glanced +around to see what color the light would now assume. + +But the yellow glare remained. The investigation which the apparatus had +gone through had probably disarranged the wires. With a shrug he was +moving off, when he suddenly made a hurried gesture, directing the +attention of the expert to a fact for which neither of them was +prepared. The opening which led into the antechamber, and which was the +sole means of communication with the rest of the house, was slowly +closing. From a yard's breadth it became a foot; from a foot it became +an inch; from an inch---- + +"Well, that is certainly the contrivance of a lazy man," laughed the +expert. "Seated in his chair here, he can close his door at will. No +shouting after a deaf servant, no awkward stumbling over rugs to shut it +himself. I don't know but I approve of this contrivance, only----" here +he caught a rather serious expression on Mr. Gryce's face--"the slide +seems to be of a somewhat curious construction. It is not made of wood, +as any sensible door ought to be, but of----" + +"Steel," finished Mr. Gryce in an odd tone. "This is the strangest thing +yet. It begins to look as if Mr. Adams was daft on electrical +contrivances." + +"And as if we were prisoners here," supplemented the other. "I do not +see any means for drawing this slide back." + +"Oh, there's another button for that, of course," Mr. Gryce carelessly +remarked. + +But they failed to find one. + +"If you don't object," observed Mr. Gryce, after five minutes of useless +search, "I will turn a more cheerful light upon the scene. Yellow does +not seem to fit the occasion." + +"Give us rose, for unless you have some one on the other side of this +steel plate, we seem likely to remain here till morning." + +"There is a man upstairs whom we may perhaps make hear, but what does +this contrivance portend? It has a serious look to me, when you consider +that every window in these two rooms has been built up almost under the +roof." + +"Yes; a very strange look. But before engaging in its consideration I +should like a breath of fresh air. I cannot do anything while in +confinement. My brain won't work." + +Meanwhile Mr. Gryce was engaged in examining the huge plate of steel +which served as a barrier to their egress. He found that it had been +made--certainly at great expense--to fit the curve of the walls through +which it passed. This was a discovery of some consequence, causing Mr. +Gryce to grow still more thoughtful and to eye the smooth steel plate +under his hand with an air of marked distrust. + +"Mr. Adams carried his taste for the mechanical to great extremes," he +remarked to the slightly uneasy man beside him. "This slide is very +carefully fitted, and, if I am not mistaken, it will stand some +battering before we are released." + +"I wish that his interest in electricity had led him to attach such a +simple thing as a bell." + +"True, we have come across no bell." + +"It would have smacked too much of the ordinary to please him." + +"Besides, his only servant was deaf." + +"Try the effect of a blow, a quick blow with this silver-mounted +alpenstock. Some one should hear and come to our assistance." + +"I will try my whistle first; it will be better understood." + +But though Mr. Gryce both whistled and struck many a resounding knock +upon the barrier before them, it was an hour before he could draw the +attention of Styles, and five hours before an opening could be effected +in the wall large enough to admit of their escape, so firmly was this +barrier of steel fixed across the sole outlet from this remarkable room. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +FIVE SMALL SPANGLES. + + +Such an experience could not fail to emphasize Mr. Gryce's interest in +the case and heighten the determination he had formed to probe its +secrets and explain all its extraordinary features. Arrived at +Headquarters, where his presence was doubtless awaited with some anxiety +by those who knew nothing of the cause of his long detention, his first +act was to inquire if Bartow, the butler, had come to his senses during +the night. + +The answer was disappointing. Not only was there no change in his +condition, but the expert in lunacy who had been called in to pass upon +his case had expressed an opinion unfavorable to his immediate recovery. + +Mr. Gryce looked sober, and, summoning the officer who had managed +Bartow's arrest, he asked how the mute had acted when he found himself +detained. + +The answer was curt, but very much to the point. + +"Surprised, sir. Shook his head and made some queer gestures, then went +through his pantomime. It's quite a spectacle, sir. Poor fool, he keeps +holding his hand back, so." + +Mr. Gryce noted the gesture; it was the same which Bartow had made when +he first realized that he had spectators. Its meaning was not wholly +apparent. He had made it with his right hand (there was no evidence that +the mute was left-handed), and he continued to make it as if with this +movement he expected to call attention to some fact that would relieve +him from custody. + +"Does he mope? Is his expression one of fear or anger?" + +"It varies, sir. One minute he looks like a man on the point of falling +asleep; the next he starts up in fury, shaking his head and pounding the +walls. It's not a comfortable sight, sir. He will have to be watched +night and day." + +"Let him be, and note every change in him. His testimony may not be +valid, but there is suggestion in every movement he makes. To-morrow I +will visit him myself." + +The officer went out, and Mr. Gryce sat for a few moments communing with +himself, during which he took out a little package from his pocket, and +emptying out on his desk the five little spangles it contained, regarded +them intently. He had always been fond of looking at some small and +seemingly insignificant object while thinking. It served to concentrate +his thoughts, no doubt. At all events, some such result appeared to +follow the contemplation of these five sequins, for after shaking his +head doubtfully over them for a time, he made a sudden move, and +sweeping them into the envelope from which he had taken them, he gave a +glance at his watch and passed quickly into the outer office, where he +paused before a line of waiting men. Beckoning to one who had followed +his movements with an interest which had not escaped the eye of this old +reader of human nature, he led the way back to his own room. + +"You want a hand in this matter?" he said interrogatively, as the door +closed behind them and they found themselves alone. + +"Oh, sir--" began the young man in a glow which made his more than plain +features interesting to contemplate, "I do not presume----" + +"Enough!" interposed the other. "You have been here now for six months, +and have had no opportunity as yet for showing any special adaptability. +Now I propose to test your powers with something really difficult. Are +you up to it, Sweetwater? Do you know the city well enough to attempt to +find a needle in this very big haystack?" + +"I should at least like to try," was the eager response. "If I succeed +it will be a bigger feather in my cap than if I had always lived in New +York. I have been spoiling for some such opportunity. See if I don't +make the effort judiciously, if only out of gratitude." + +"Well, we shall see," remarked the old detective. "If it's difficulty +you long to encounter, you will be likely to have all you want of it. +Indeed, it is the impossible I ask. A woman is to be found of whom we +know nothing save that she wore when last seen a dress heavily +bespangled with black, and that she carried in her visit to Mr. Adams, +at the time of or before the murder, a parasol, of which I can procure +you a glimpse before you start out. She came from, I don't know where, +and she went--but that is what you are to find out. You are not the only +man who is to be put on the job, which, as you see, is next door to a +hopeless one, unless the woman comes forward and proclaims herself. +Indeed, I should despair utterly of your success if it were not for one +small fact which I will now proceed to give you as my special and +confidential agent in this matter. When this woman was about to +disappear from the one eye that was watching her, she approached the +curbstone in front of Hudson's fruit store on 14th Street and lifted up +her right hand, so. It is not much of a clew, but it is all I have at my +disposal, except these five spangles dropped from her dress, and my +conviction that she is not to be found among the questionable women of +the town, but among those who seldom or never come under the eye of the +police. Yet don't let this conviction hamper you. Convictions as a rule +are bad things, and act as a hindrance rather than an inspiration." + +Sweetwater, to whom the song of the sirens would have sounded less +sweet, listened with delight and responded with a frank smile and a gay: + +"I'll do my best, sir, but don't show me the parasol, only describe it. +I wouldn't like the fellows to chaff me if I fail; I'd rather go quietly +to work and raise no foolish expectations." + +"Well, then, it is one of those dainty, nonsensical things made of gray +chiffon, with pearl handle and bows of pink ribbon. I don't believe it +was ever used before, and from the value women usually place on such +fol-de-rols, could only have been left behind under the stress of +extraordinary emotion or fear. The name of the owner was not on it." + +"Nor that of the maker?" + +Mr. Gryce had expected this question, and was glad not to be +disappointed. + +"No, that would have helped us too much." + +"And the hour at which this lady was seen on the curbstone at Hudson's?" + +"Half-past four; the moment at which the telephone message arrived." + +"Very good, sir. It is the hardest task I have ever undertaken, but +that's not against it. When shall I see you again?" + +"When you have something to impart. Ah, wait a minute. I have my +suspicion that this woman's first name is Evelyn. But, mind, it is only +a suspicion." + +"All right, sir," and with an air of some confidence, the young man +disappeared. + +Mr. Gryce did not look as if he shared young Sweetwater's cheerfulness. +The mist surrounding this affair was as yet impenetrable to him. But +then he was not twenty-three, with only triumphant memories behind him. + +His next hope lay in the information likely to accrue from the published +accounts of this crime, now spread broadcast over the country. A man of +Mr. Adams's wealth and culture must necessarily have possessed many +acquaintances, whom the surprising news of his sudden death would +naturally bring to light, especially as no secret was made of his means +and many valuable effects. But as if this affair, destined to be one of +the last to engage the powers of this sagacious old man, refused on this +very account to yield any immediate results to his investigation, the +whole day passed by without the appearance of any claimant for Mr. +Adams's fortune or the arrival on the scene of any friend capable of +lifting the veil which shrouded the life of this strange being. To be +sure, his banker and his lawyer came forward during the day, but they +had little to reveal beyond the fact that his pecuniary affairs were in +good shape and that, so far as they knew, he was without family or kin. + +Even his landlord could add little to the general knowledge. He had +first heard of Mr. Adams through a Philadelphia lawyer, since dead, who +had assured him of his client's respectability and undoubted ability to +pay his rent. When they came together and Mr. Adams was introduced to +him, he had been struck, first, by the ascetic appearance of his +prospective tenant, and, secondly, by his reserved manners and quiet +intelligence. But admirable as he had found him, he had never succeeded +in making his acquaintance. The rent had been uniformly paid with great +exactitude on the very day it was due, but his own visits had never been +encouraged or his advances met by anything but the cold politeness of a +polished and totally indifferent man. Indeed, he had always looked upon +his tenant as a bookworm, absorbed in study and such scientific +experiments as could be carried on with no other assistance than that of +his deaf and dumb servant. + +Asked if he knew anything about this servant, he answered that his +acquaintance with him was limited to the two occasions on which he had +been ushered by him into his master's presence; that he knew nothing of +his character and general disposition, and could not say whether his +attitude toward his master had been one of allegiance or antagonism. + +And so the way was blocked in this direction. + +Taken into the room where Mr. Adams had died, he surveyed in amazement +the huge steel plate which still blocked the doorway, and the high +windows through which only a few straggling sunbeams could find their +way. + +Pointing to the windows, he remarked: + +"These were filled in at Mr. Adams's request. Originally they extended +down to the wainscoting." + +He was shown where lath and plaster had been introduced and also how the +plate had been prepared and arranged as a barrier. But he could give no +explanation of it or divine the purpose for which it had been placed +there at so great an expense. + +The lamp was another curiosity, and its varying lights the cause of +increased astonishment. Indeed he had known nothing of these +arrangements, having been received in the parlor when he visited the +house, where there was nothing to attract his attention or emphasize the +well-known oddities of his tenant. + +He was not shown the starling. That loquacious bird had been removed to +police headquarters for the special delectation of Mr. Gryce. + +Other inquiries failed also. No clew to the owner of the insignia found +on the wall could be gained at the pension office or at any of the G. A. +R. posts inside the city. Nor was the name of the artist who had painted +the portrait which adorned so large a portion of the wall a recognized +one in New York City. Otherwise a clew might have been obtained through +him to Mr. Adams's antecedents. All the drawers and receptacles in Mr. +Adams's study had been searched, but no will had been found nor any +business documents. It was as if this strange man had sought to suppress +his identity, or, rather, as if he had outgrown all interest in his kind +or in anything beyond the walls within which he had immured himself. + +Late in the afternoon reports began to come in from the various +tradesmen with whom Mr. Adams had done business. They all had something +to say as to the peculiarity of his habits and the freaks of his mute +servant. They were both described as hermits, differing from the rest of +their kind only in that they denied themselves no reasonable luxury and +seemed to have adopted a shut-in life from a pure love of seclusion. The +master was never seen at the stores. It was the servant who made the +purchases, and this by means of gestures which were often strangely +significant. Indeed, he seemed to have great power of expressing himself +by looks and actions, and rarely caused a mistake or made one. He would +not endure cheating, and always bought the best. + +Of his sanity up to the day of his master's death there was no question; +but more than one man with whom he had had dealings was ready to testify +that there had been a change in his manner for the past few weeks--a +sort of subdued excitement, quite unlike his former methodical bearing. +He had shown an inclination to testiness, and was less easily pleased +than formerly. To one clerk he had shown a nasty spirit under very +slight provocation, and was only endured in the store on account of his +master, who was too good a customer for them to offend. Mr. Kelly, a +grocer, went so far as to say he acted like a man with a grievance who +burned to vent his spite on some one, but held himself in forcible +restraint. + +Perhaps if no tragedy had taken place in the house on ---- Street these +various persons would not have been so ready to interpret thus +unfavorably a nervousness excusable enough in one so cut off from all +communication with his kind. But with the violent end of his master in +view, and his own unexplained connection with it, who could help +recalling that his glance had frequently shown malevolence? + +But this was not evidence of the decided character required by the law, +and Mr. Gryce was about to regard the day as a lost one, when Sweetwater +made his reappearance at Headquarters. The expression of his face put +new life into Mr. Gryce. + +"What!" he cried, "you have not found her?" + +Sweetwater smiled. "Don't ask me, sir, not yet. I've come to see if +there's any reason why I should not be given the loan of that parasol +for about an hour. I'll bring it back. I only want to make a certain +test with it." + +"What test, my boy? May I ask, what test?" + +"Please to excuse me, sir; I have only a short time in which to act +before respectable business houses shut up for the night, and the test I +speak of has to be made in a respectable house." + +"Then you shall not be hindered. Wait here, and I will bring you the +parasol. There! bring it back soon, my boy. I have not the patience I +used to have." + +"An hour, sir; give me an hour, and then----" + +The shutting of the door behind his flying figure cut short his +sentence. + +That was a long hour to Mr. Gryce, or would have been if it had not +mercifully been cut short by the return of Sweetwater in an even more +excited state of mind than he had been before. He held the parasol in +his hand. + +"My test failed," said he, "but the parasol has brought me luck, +notwithstanding. I have found the lady, sir, and----" + +He had to draw a long breath before proceeding. + +"And she is what I said," began the detective; "a respectable person in +a respectable house." + +"Yes, sir; very respectable, more respectable than I expected to see. +Quite a lady, sir. Not young, but----" + +"Her name, boy. Is it--Evelyn?" + +Sweetwater shook his head with a look as naive in its way as the old +detective's question. + +"I cannot say, sir. Indeed, I had not the courage to ask. She is +here----" + +"Here!" Mr. Gryce took one hurried step toward the door, then came +gravely back. "I can restrain myself," he said. "If she is here, she +will not go till I have seen her. Are you sure you have made no mistake; +that she is the woman we are after; the woman who was in Mr. Adams's +house and sent us the warning?" + +"Will you hear my story, sir? It will take only a moment. Then you can +judge for yourself." + +"Your story? It must be a pretty one. How came you to light on this +woman so soon? By using the clew I gave you?" + +Again Sweetwater's expression took on a touch of naïveté. + +"I'm sorry, sir; but I was egotistical enough to follow my own idea. It +would have taken too much time to hunt up all the drivers of hacks in +the city, and I could not even be sure she had made use of a public +conveyance. No, sir; I bethought me of another way by which I might +reach this woman. You had shown me those spangles. They were portions of +a very rich trimming; a trimming which has only lately come into vogue, +and which is so expensive that it is worn chiefly by women of means, and +sold only in shops where elaborate garnitures are to be found. I have +seen and noticed dresses thus trimmed, in certain windows and on certain +ladies; and before you showed me the spangles you picked up in Mr. +Adams's study could have told you just how I had seen them arranged. +They are sewed on black net, in figures, sir; in scrolls or wreaths or +whatever you choose to call them; and so conspicuous are these wreaths +or figures, owing to the brilliance of the spangles composing them, that +any break in their continuity is plainly apparent, especially if the net +be worn over a color, as is frequently the case. Remembering this, and +recalling the fact that these spangles doubtless fell from one of the +front breadths, where their loss would attract not only the attention of +others, but that of the wearer, I said to myself, 'What will she be +likely to do when she finds her dress thus disfigured?' And the answer +at once came: 'If she is the lady Mr. Gryce considers her, she will seek +to restore these missing spangles, especially if they were lost on a +scene of crime. But where can she get them to sew on? From an extra +piece of net of the same style. But she will not be apt to have an extra +piece of net. She will, therefore, find herself obliged to buy it, and +since only a few spangles are lacking, she will buy the veriest strip.' +Here, then, was my clew, or at least my ground for action. Going the +rounds of the few leading stores on Broadway, 23d Street, and Sixth +Avenue, I succeeded in getting certain clerks interested in my efforts, +so that I speedily became assured that if a lady came into these stores +for a very small portion of this bespangled net, they would note her +person and, if possible, procure some clew to her address. Then I took +up my stand at Arnold's emporium. Why Arnold's? I do not know. Perhaps +my good genius meant me to be successful in this quest; but whether +through luck or what not, I was successful, for before the afternoon was +half over, I encountered a meaning glance from one of the men behind the +counter, and advancing toward him, saw him rolling a small package which +he handed over to a very pretty and rosy young girl, who at once walked +away with it. 'For one of our leading customers,' he whispered, as I +drew nearer. 'I don't think she is the person you want.' But I would +take no chances. I followed the young girl who had carried away the +parcel, and by this means came to a fine brownstone front in one of our +most retired and aristocratic quarters. When I had seen her go in at the +basement door, I rang the bell above, and then--well, I just bit my lips +to keep down my growing excitement. For such an effort as this might +well end in disappointment, and I knew if I were disappointed now--But +no such trial awaited me. The maid who came to the door proved to be the +same merry-eyed lass I had seen leave the store. Indeed, she had the +identical parcel in her hand which was the connecting link between the +imposing house at whose door I stood and the strange murder in ---- +Street. But I did not allow my interest in this parcel to become +apparent, and by the time I addressed her I had so mastered myself as to +arouse no suspicion of the importance of my errand. You, of course, +foresee the question I put to the young girl. 'Has your mistress lost a +parasol? One has been found--' I did not finish the sentence, for I +perceived by her look that her mistress had met with such a loss, and as +this was all I wanted to know just then, I cried out, 'I will bring it. +If it is hers, all right,' and bounded down the steps. + +"My intention was to inform you of what I had done and ask your advice. +But my egotism got the better of me. I felt that I ought to make sure +that I was not the victim of a coincidence. Such a respectable house! +Such a respectable maidservant! Should she recognize the parasol as +belonging to her mistress, then, indeed, I might boast of my success. So +praying you for a loan of this article, I went back and rang the bell +again. The same girl came to the door. I think fortune favored me +to-day. 'Here is the parasol,' said I, but before the words were out of +my mouth I saw that the girl had taken the alarm or that some grievous +mistake had been made. 'That is not the one my mistress lost,' said she. +'She never carries anything but black.' And the door was about to close +between us when I heard a voice from within call out peremptorily: 'Let +me see that parasol. Hold it up, young man. There! at the foot of the +stairs. Ah!' + +"If ever an exclamation was eloquent that simple 'ah!' was. I could not +see the speaker, but I knew she was leaning over the banisters from the +landing above. I listened to hear her glide away. But she did not move. +She was evidently collecting herself for the emergency of the moment. +Presently she spoke again, and I was astonished at her tone: 'You have +come from Police Headquarters,' was the remark with which she hailed me. + +"I lowered the parasol. I did not think it necessary to say yes. + +"'From a man there, called Gryce,' she went on, still in that strange +tone I can hardly describe, sir. + +"'Since you ask me,' I now replied, 'I acknowledge that it is through +his instructions I am here. He was anxious to restore to you your lost +property. Is not this parasol yours? Shall I not leave it with this +young girl?' + +"The answer was dry, almost rasping: 'Mr. Gryce has made a mistake. The +parasol is not mine; yet he certainly deserves credit for the use he has +made of it, in this search. I should like to tell him so. Is he at his +office, and do you think I would be received?' + +"'He would be delighted,' I returned, not imagining she was in earnest. +But she was, sir. In less time than you would believe, I perceived a +very stately, almost severe, lady descend the stairs. She was dressed +for the street, and spoke to me with quite an air of command. 'Have you +a cab?' she asked. + +"'No,' said I. + +"'Then get one.' + +"Here was a dilemma. Should I leave her and thus give her an opportunity +to escape, or should I trust to her integrity and the honesty of her +look, which was no common one, sir, and obey her as every one about her +was evidently accustomed to do? + +"I concluded to trust to her integrity, and went for the cab. But it was +a risk, sir, which I promise not to repeat in the future. She was +awaiting me on the stoop when I got back, and at once entered the hack +with a command to drive immediately to Police Headquarters. I saw her as +I came in just now sitting in the outer office, waiting for you. Are you +ready to say I have done well?" + +Mr. Gryce, with an indescribable look of mingled envy and indulgence, +pressed the hand held out to him, and passed out. His curiosity could be +restrained no longer, and he went at once to where this mysterious woman +was awaiting him. Did he think it odd that she knew him, that she sought +him? If so, he did not betray this in his manner, which was one of great +respect. But that manner suddenly changed as he came face to face with +the lady in question. Not that it lost its respect, but that it betrayed +an astonishment of a more pronounced character than was usually indulged +in by this experienced detective. The lady before him was one well known +to him; in fact, almost an associate of his in certain bygone matters; +in other words, none other than that most reputable of ladies, Miss +Amelia Butterworth of Gramercy Park. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +SUGGESTIONS FROM AN OLD FRIEND. + + +The look with which this amiable spinster met his eye was one which a +stranger would have found it hard to understand. He found it hard to +understand himself, perhaps because he had never before seen this lady +when she was laboring under an opinion of herself that was not one of +perfect complacency. + +"Miss Butterworth! What does this mean? Have you----" + +"There!" The word came with some sharpness. "You have detected me at my +old tricks, and I am correspondingly ashamed, and you triumphant. The +gray parasol you have been good enough to send to my house is not mine, +but I was in the room where you picked it up, as you have so cleverly +concluded, and as it is useless for me to evade your perspicacity, I +have come here to confess." + +"Ah!" The detective was profoundly interested at once. He drew a chair +up to Miss Butterworth's side and sat down. "You were there!" he +repeated; "and when? I do not presume to ask for what purpose." + +"But I shall have to explain my purpose not to find myself at too great +a disadvantage," she replied with grim decision. "Not that I like to +display my own weakness, but that I recognize the exigencies of the +occasion, and fully appreciate your surprise at finding that I, a +stranger to Mr. Adams, and without the excuse which led to my former +interference in police matters, should have so far forgotten myself as +to be in my present position before you. This was no affair of my +immediate neighbor, nor did it seek me. I sought it, sir, and in this +way. I wish I had gone to Jericho first; it might have meant longer +travel and much more expense; but it would have involved me in less +humiliation and possible publicity. Mr. Gryce, I never meant to be mixed +up with another murder case. I have shown my aptitude for detective work +and received, ere now, certain marks of your approval; but my head was +not turned by them--at least I thought not--and I was tolerably sincere +in my determination to keep to my own _metier_ in future and not suffer +myself to be allured by any inducements you might offer into the +exercise of gifts which may have brought me praise in the past, but +certainly have not brought me happiness. But the temptation came, not +through you, or I might have resisted it, but through a combination of +circumstances which found me weak, and, in a measure, unprepared. In +other words, I was surprised into taking an interest in this affair. Oh, +I am ashamed of it, so ashamed that I have made the greatest endeavor to +hide my participation in the matter, and thinking I had succeeded in +doing so, was congratulating myself upon my precautions, when I found +that parasol thrust in my face and realized that you, if no one else, +knew that Amelia Butterworth had been in Mr. Adams's room of death prior +to yourself. Yet I thought I had left no traces behind me. Could you +have seen----" + +"Miss Butterworth, you dropped five small spangles from your robe. You +wore a dress spangled with black sequins, did you not? Besides, you +moved the inkstand, and--Well, I will never put faith in circumstantial +evidence again. I saw these tokens of a woman's presence, heard what the +boy had to say of the well-dressed lady who had sent him into the +drug-store with a message to the police, and drew the conclusion--I may +admit it to you--that it was this woman who had wielded the assassin's +dagger, and not the deaf-and-dumb butler, who, until now, has borne the +blame of it. Therefore I was anxious to find her, little realizing what +would be the result of my efforts, or that I should have to proffer her +my most humble apologies." + +"Do not apologize to me. I had no business to be there, or, at least, to +leave the five spangles you speak of, behind me on Mr. Adams's miserable +floor. I was simply passing by the house; and had I been the woman I +once was, that is, a woman who had never dipped into a mystery, I should +have continued on my way, instead of turning aside. Sir, it's a curious +sensation to find yourself, however innocent, regarded by a whole city +full of people as the cause or motive of a terrible murder, especially +when you have spent some time, as I have, in the study of crime and the +pursuit of criminals. I own I don't enjoy the experience. But I have +brought it on myself. If I had not been so curious--But it was not +curiosity I felt. I will never own that I am subject to mere curiosity; +it was the look on the young man's face. But I forget myself. I am +rambling in all directions when I ought to be telling a consecutive +tale. Not my usual habit, sir; this you know; but I am not quite myself +at this moment. I declare I am more upset by this discovery of my +indiscretion than I was by Mr. Trohm's declaration of affection in Lost +Man's Lane! Give me time, Mr. Gryce; in a few minutes I will be more +coherent." + +"I am giving you time," he returned with one of his lowest bows. "The +half-dozen questions I long to ask have not yet left my lips, and I sit +here, as you must yourself acknowledge, a monument of patience." + +"So you thought this deed perpetrated by an outsider," she suddenly +broke in. "Most of the journals--I read them very carefully this +morning--ascribed the crime to the man you have mentioned. And there +seems to be good reason for doing so. The case is not a simple one, Mr. +Gryce; it has complications--I recognized that at once, and that is +why--but I won't waste another moment in apologies. You have a right to +any little fact I may have picked up in my unfortunate visit, and there +is one which I failed to find included in any account of the murder. Mr. +Adams had other visitors besides myself in those few fatal minutes +preceding his death. A young man and woman were with him. I saw them +come out of the house. It was at the moment I was passing----" + +"Tell your story more simply, Miss Butterworth. What first drew your +attention to the house?" + +"There! That is the second time you have had to remind me to be more +direct. You will not have to do so again, Mr. Gryce. To begin, then, I +noticed the house, because I always notice it. I never pass it without +giving a thought to its ancient history and indulging in more or less +speculation as to its present inmates. When, therefore, I found myself +in front of it yesterday afternoon on my way to the art exhibition, I +naturally looked up, and--whether by an act of providence or not, I +cannot say--it was precisely at that instant the inner door of the +vestibule burst open, and a young man appeared in the hall, carrying a +young woman in his arms. He seemed to be in a state of intense +excitement, and she in a dead faint; but before they had attracted the +attention of the crowd, he had placed her on her feet, and, taking her +on his arm, dragged her down the stoop and into the crowd of passers-by, +among whom they presently disappeared. I, as you may believe, stood +rooted to the ground in my astonishment, and not only endeavored to see +in what direction they went, but lingered long enough to take a peep +into the time-honored interior of this old house, which had been left +open to view by the young man's forgetting to close the front door +behind him. As I did so, I heard a cry from within. It was muffled and +remote, but unmistakably one of terror and anguish: and, led by an +impulse I may live to regret, as it seems likely to plunge me into much +unpleasantness, I rushed up the stoop and went in, shutting the door +behind me, lest others should be induced to follow. + +"So far, I had acted solely from instinct; but once in that semi-dark +hall, I paused and asked what business I had there, and what excuse I +should give for my intrusion if I encountered one or more of the +occupants of the house. But a repetition of the cry, coming as I am +ready to swear from the farthest room on the parlor floor, together with +a sharp remembrance of the wandering eye and drawn countenance of the +young man whom I had seen stagger hence a moment before, with an almost +fainting woman in his arms, drew me on in spite of my feminine +instincts; and before I knew it, I was in the circular study and before +the prostrate form of a seemingly dying man. He was lying as you +probably found him a little later, with the cross on his breast and a +dagger in his heart; but his right hand was trembling, and when I +stooped to lift his head, he gave a shudder and then settled into +eternal stillness. I, a stranger from the street, had witnessed his last +breath while the young man who had gone out----" + +"Can you describe him? Did you encounter him close enough for +recognition?" + +"Yes, I think I would know him again. I can at least describe his +appearance. He wore a checked suit, very natty, and was more than +usually tall and fine-looking. But his chief peculiarity lay in his +expression. I never saw on any face, no, not on the stage, at the climax +of the most heart-rending tragedy, a greater accumulation of mortal +passion struggling with the imperative necessity for restraint. The +young girl whose blond head lay on his shoulder looked like a saint in +the clutch of a demon. She had seen death, but he--But I prefer not to +be the interpreter of that expressive countenance. It was lost to my +view almost immediately, and probably calmed itself in the face of the +throng he entered, or we would be hearing about him to-day. The girl +seemed to be devoid of almost all feeling. I should not remember her." + +"And was that all? Did you just look at that recumbent man and vanish? +Didn't you encounter the butler? Haven't you some definite knowledge to +impart in his regard which will settle his innocence or fix his guilt?" + +"I know no more about him than you do, sir, except that he was not in +the room by the time I reached it, and did not come into it during my +presence there. Yet it was his cry that led me to the spot; or do you +think it was that of the bird I afterward heard shouting and screaming +in the cage over the dead man's head?" + +"It might have been the bird," admitted Mr. Gryce. "Its call is very +clear, and it seems strangely intelligent. What was it saying while you +stood there?" + +"Something about Eva. 'Lovely Eva, maddening Eva! I love Eva! Eva! +Eva!'" + +"Eva? Wasn't it 'Evelyn? Poor Evelyn?'" + +"No, it was Eva. I thought he might mean the girl I had just seen +carried out. It was an unpleasant experience, hearing this bird shriek +out these cries in the face of the man lying dead at my feet." + +"Miss Butterworth, you didn't simply stand over that man. You knelt down +and looked in his face." + +"I acknowledge it, and caught my dress in the filagree of the cross. +Naturally I would not stand stock still with a man drawing his last +breath under my eye." + +"And what else did you do? You went to the table----" + +"Yes, I went to the table." + +"And moved the inkstand?" + +"Yes, I moved the inkstand, but very carefully, sir, very carefully." + +"Not so carefully but that I could see where it had been sitting before +you took it up: the square made by its base in the dust of the table did +not coincide with the place afterwards occupied by it." + +"Ah, that comes from your having on your glasses and I not. I endeavored +to set it down in the precise place from which I lifted it." + +"Why did you take it up at all? What were you looking for?" + +"For clews, Mr. Gryce. You must forgive me, but I was seeking for clews. +I moved several things. I was hunting for the line of writing which +ought to explain this murder." + +"The line of writing?" + +"Yes. I have not told you what the young girl said as she slipped with +her companion into the crowd." + +"No; you have spoken of no words. Have you any such clew as that? Miss +Butterworth, you are fortunate, very fortunate." + +Mr. Gryce's look and gesture were eloquent, but Miss Butterworth, with +an access of dignity, quietly remarked: + +"I was not to blame for being in the way when they passed, nor could I +help hearing what she said." + +"And what was it, madam? Did she mention a paper?" + +"Yes, she cried in what I now remember to have been a tone of affright: +'You have left that line of writing behind!' I did not attach much +importance to these words then, but when I came upon the dying man, so +evidently the victim of murder, I recalled what his late visitor had +said and looked about for this piece of writing." + +"And did you find it, Miss Butterworth? I am ready, as you see, for any +revelation you may now make." + +"For one which would reflect dishonor on me? If I had found any paper +explaining this tragedy, I should have felt bound to have called the +attention of the police to it. I did notify them of the crime itself." + +"Yes, madam; and we are obliged to you; but how about your silence in +regard to the fact of two persons having left that house immediately +upon, or just preceding, the death of its master?" + +"I reserved that bit of information. I waited to see if the police would +not get wind of these people without my help. I sincerely wished to keep +my name out of this inquiry. Yet I feel a decided relief now that I have +made my confession. I never could have rested properly after seeing so +much, and----" + +"Well?" + +"Thinking my own thoughts in regard to what I saw, if I had found myself +compelled to bridle my tongue while false scents were being followed and +delicate clews overlooked or discarded without proper attention. I +regard this murder as offering the most difficult problem that has ever +come in my way, and, therefore----" + +"Yes, madam." + +"I cannot but wonder if an opportunity has been afforded me for +retrieving myself in your eyes. I do not care for the opinion of any one +else as to my ability or discretion; but I should like to make you +forget my last despicable failure in Lost Man's Lane. It is a sore +remembrance to me, Mr. Gryce, which nothing but a fresh success can make +me forget." + +"Madam, I understand you. You have formulated some theory. You consider +the young man with the tell-tale face guilty of Mr. Adams's death. Well, +it is very possible. I never thought the butler was rehearsing a crime +he had himself committed." + +"Do you know who the young man is I saw leaving that house so +hurriedly?" + +"Not the least in the world. You are the first to bring him to my +attention." + +"And the young girl with the blonde hair?" + +"It is the first I have heard of her, too." + +"I did not scatter the rose leaves that were found on that floor." + +"No, it was she. She probably wore a bouquet in her belt." + +"Nor was that frippery parasol mine, though I did lose a good, stout, +serviceable one somewhere that day." + +"It was hers; I have no doubt of it." + +"Left by her in the little room where she was whiling away the time +during which the gentlemen conversed together, possibly about that bit +of writing she afterward alluded to." + +"Certainly." + +"Her mind was not expectant of evil, for she was smoothing her hair when +the shock came----" + +"Yes, madam, I follow you." + +"And had to be carried out of the place after----" + +"What?" + +"She had placed that cross on Mr. Adams's breast. That was a woman's +act, Mr. Gryce." + +"I am glad to hear you say so. The placing of that cross on a layman's +breast was a mystery to me, and is still, I must own. Great remorse or +great fright only can account for it." + +"You will find many mysteries in this case, Mr. Gryce." + +"As great a number as I ever encountered." + +"I have to add one." + +"Another?" + +"It concerns the old butler." + +"I thought you did not see him." + +"I did not see him in the room where Mr. Adams lay." + +"Ah! Where, then?" + +"Upstairs. My interest was not confined to the scene of the murder. +Wishing to spread the alarm, and not being able to rouse any one below, +I crept upstairs, and so came upon this poor wretch going through the +significant pantomime that has been so vividly described in the papers." + +"Ah! Unpleasant for you, very. I imagine you did not stop to talk to +him." + +"No, I fled. I was extremely shaken up by this time and knew only one +thing to do, and that was to escape. But I carried one as yet unsolved +enigma with me. How came I to hear this man's cries in Mr. Adams's +study, and yet find him on the second floor when I came to search the +house? He had not time to mount the stairs while I was passing down the +hall." + +"It is a case of mistaken impression. Your ears played you false. The +cries came from above, not from Mr. Adams's study." + +"My ears are not accustomed to play me tricks. You must seek another +explanation." + +"I have ransacked the house; there are no back stairs." + +"If there were, the study does not communicate with them." + +"And you heard his voice in the study?" + +"Plainly." + +"Well, you have given me a poser, madam." + +"And I will give you another. If he was the perpetrator of this crime, +how comes it that he was not detected and denounced by the young people +I saw going out? If, on the contrary, he was simply the witness of +another man's blow--a blow which horrified him so much that it unseated +his reason--how comes it that he was able to slide away from the door +where he must have stood without attracting the attention and bringing +down upon himself the vengeance of the guilty murderer?" + +"He may be one of the noiseless kind, or, rather, may have been such +before this shock unsettled his mind." + +"True, but he would have been seen. Recall the position of the doorway. +If Mr. Adams fell where he was struck, the assailant must have had that +door directly before him. He could not have helped seeing any one +standing in it." + +"That is true; your observations are quite correct. But those young +people were in a disordered state of mind. The condition in which they +issued from the house proves this. They probably did not trouble +themselves about this man. Escape was all they sought. And, you see, +they did escape." + +"But you will find them. A man who can locate a woman in this great city +of ours with no other clew than five spangles, dropped from her gown, +will certainly make this parasol tell the name of its owner." + +"Ah, madam, the credit of this feat is not due to me. It was the initial +stroke of a young man I propose to adopt into my home and heart; the +same who brought you here to-night. Not much to look at, madam, but +promising, very promising. But I doubt if even he can discover the young +lady you mean, with no other aid than is given by this parasol. New York +is a big place, ma'am, a big place. Do you know how Sweetwater came to +find you? Through your virtues, ma'am; through your neat and methodical +habits. Had you been of a careless turn of mind and not given to mending +your dresses when you tore them, he might have worn his heart out in a +vain search for the lady who had dropped the five spangles in Mr. +Adams's study. Now luck, or, rather, your own commendable habit, was in +his favor this time; but in the prospective search you mentioned, he +will probably have no such assistance." + +"Nor will he need it. I have unbounded faith in your genius, which, +after all, is back of the skilfulness of this new pupil of yours. You +will discover by some means the lady with the dove-colored plumes, and +through her the young gentleman who accompanied her." + +"We shall at least put our energies to work in that direction. +Sweetwater may have an idea----" + +"And I may have one." + +"You?" + +"Yes; I indulged in but little sleep last night. That dreadful room with +its unsolved mystery was ever before me. Thoughts would come; +possibilities would suggest themselves. I imagined myself probing its +secrets to the bottom and----" + +"Wait, madam; how many of its so-called secrets do you know? You said +nothing about the lantern." + +"It was burning with a red light when I entered." + +"You did not touch the buttons arranged along the table top?" + +"No; if there is one thing I do not touch, it is anything which suggests +an electrical contrivance. I am intensely feminine, sir, in all my +instincts, and mechanisms of any kind alarm me. To all such things I +give a wide berth. I have not even a telephone in my house. Some +allowance must be made for the natural timidity of woman." + +Mr. Gryce suppressed a smile. "It is a pity," he remarked. "Had you +brought another light upon the scene, you might have been blessed with +an idea on a subject that is as puzzling as any connected with the whole +affair." + +"You have not heard what I have to say on a still more important +matter," said she. "When we have exhausted the one topic, we may both +feel like turning on the fresh lights you speak of. Mr. Gryce, on what +does this mystery hinge? On the bit of writing which these young people +were so alarmed at having left behind them." + +"Ah! It is from that you would work! Well, it is a good point to start +from. But we have found no such bit of writing." + +"Have you searched for it? You did not know till now that any importance +might be attached to a morsel of paper with some half-dozen words +written on it." + +"True, but a detective searches just the same. We ransacked that room as +few rooms have been ransacked in years. Not for a known clew, but for an +unknown one. It seemed necessary in the first place to learn who this +man was. His papers were consequently examined. But they told nothing. +If there had been a scrap of writing within view or in his desk----" + +"It was not on his person? You had his pockets searched, his +clothes----" + +"A man who has died from violence is always searched, madam. I leave no +stone unturned in a mysterious case like this." + +Miss Butterworth's face assumed an indefinable expression of +satisfaction, which did not escape Mr. Gryce's eye, though that member +was fixed, according to his old habit, on the miniature of her father +which she wore, in defiance of fashion, at her throat. + +"I wonder," said she, in a musing tone, "if I imagined or really saw on +Mr. Adams's face a most extraordinary expression; something more than +the surprise or anguish following a mortal blow? A look of +determination, arguing some superhuman resolve taken at the moment of +death, or--can you read that face for me? Or did you fail to perceive +aught of what I say? It would really be an aid to me at this moment to +know." + +"I noted that look. It was not a common one. But I cannot read it for +you----" + +"I wonder if the young man you call Sweetwater can. I certainly think it +has a decided bearing on this mystery; such a fold to the lips, such a +look of mingled grief and--what was that you said? Sweetwater has not +been admitted to the room of death? Well, well, I shall have to make my +own suggestion, then. I shall have to part with an idea that may be +totally valueless, but which has impressed me so that it must out, if I +am to have any peace to-night. Mr. Gryce, allow me to whisper in your +ear. Some things lose force when spoken aloud." + +And leaning forward, she breathed a short sentence into his ear which +made him start and regard her with an amazement which rapidly grew into +admiration. + +"Madam!" he cried, rising up that he might the better honor her with one +of his low bows, "your idea, whether valueless or not, is one which is +worthy of the acute lady who proffers it. We will act on it, ma'am, act +at once. Wait till I have given my orders. I will not keep you long." + +And with another bow, he left the room. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +AMOS'S SON. + + +Miss Butterworth had been brought up in a strict school of manners. When +she sat, she sat still; when she moved, she moved quickly, firmly, but +with no unnecessary disturbance. Fidgets were unknown to her. Yet when +she found herself alone after this interview, it was with difficulty she +could restrain herself from indulging in some of those outward +manifestations of uneasiness which she had all her life reprobated in +the more nervous members of her own sex. She was anxious, and she showed +it, like the sensible woman she was, and was glad enough when Mr. Gryce +finally returned and, accosting her with a smile, said almost gayly: + +"Well, that is seen to! And all we have to do now is to await the +result. Madam, have you any further ideas? If so, I should be glad to +have the benefit of them." + +Her self-possession was at once restored. + +"You would?" she repeated, eying him somewhat doubtfully. "I should like +to be assured of the value of the one I have already advanced, before I +venture upon another. Let us enter into a conference instead; compare +notes; tell, for instance, why neither of us look on Bartow as the +guilty man." + +"I thought we had exhausted that topic. Your suspicions were aroused by +the young couple you saw leaving the house, while mine--well, madam, to +you, at least, I may admit that there is something in the mute's +gestures and general manner which conveys to my mind the impression that +he is engaged in rehearsing something he has seen, rather than something +he has done; and as yet I have seen no reason for doubting the truth of +this impression." + +"I was affected in the same way, and would have been, even if I had not +already had my suspicions turned in another direction. Besides, it is +more natural for a man to be driven insane by another's act than by his +own." + +"Yes, if he loved the victim." + +"And did not Bartow?" + +"He does not mourn Mr. Adams." + +"But he is no longer master of his emotions." + +"Very true; but if we take any of his actions as a clew to the +situation, we must take all. We believe from his gestures that he is +giving us a literal copy of acts he has seen performed. Then, why pass +over the gleam of infernal joy that lights his face after the whole is +over? It is as if he rejoiced over the deed, or at least found +immeasurable satisfaction in it." + +"Perhaps it is still a copy of what he saw; the murderer may have +rejoiced. But no, there was no joy in the face of the young man I saw +rushing away from this scene of violence. Quite the contrary. Mr. Gryce, +we are in deep waters. I feel myself wellnigh submerged by them." + +"Hold up your head, madam. Every flood has its ebb. If you allow +yourself to go under, what will become of me?" + +"You are disposed to humor, Mr. Gryce. It is a good sign. You are never +humorous when perplexed. Somewhere you must see daylight." + +"Let us proceed with our argument. Illumination frequently comes from +the most unexpected quarter." + +"Very well, then, let us put the old man's joy down as one of the +mysteries to be explained later. Have you thought of him as a possible +accomplice?" + +"Certainly; but this supposition is open to the same objection as that +which made him the motive power in this murder. One is not driven insane +by an expected horror. It takes shock to unsettle the brain. He was not +looking for the death of his master." + +"True. We may consider that matter as settled. Bartow was an innocent +witness of this crime, and, having nothing to fear, may be trusted to +reproduce in his pantomimic action its exact features." + +"Very good. Continue, madam. Nothing but profit is likely to follow an +argument presented by Miss Butterworth." + +The old detective's tone was serious, his manner perfect; but Miss +Butterworth, ever on the look-out for sarcasm from his lips, bridled a +little, though in no other way did she show her displeasure. + +"Let us, then, recall his precise gestures, remembering that he must +have surprised the assailant from the study doorway, and so have seen +the assault from over his master's shoulder." + +"In other words, directly in front of him. Now what was his first move?" + +"His first move, as now seen, is to raise his right arm and stretch it +behind him, while he leans forward for the imaginary dagger. What does +that mean?" + +"I should find it hard to say. But I did not see him do that. When I +came upon him, he was thrusting with his left hand across his own +body--a vicious thrust and with his left hand. That is a point, Mr. +Gryce." + +"Yes, especially as the doctors agree that Mr. Adams was killed by a +left-handed blow." + +"You don't say! Don't you see the difficulty, then?" + +"The difficulty, madam?" + +"Bartow was standing face to face with the assailant. In imitating him, +especially in his unreasoning state of mind, he would lift the arm +opposite to the one whose action he mimics, which, in this case, would +be the assailant's right. Try, for the moment, to mimic my actions. See! +I lift this hand, and instinctively (nay, I detected the movement, sir, +quickly as you remembered yourself), you raise the one directly opposite +to it. It is like seeing yourself in a mirror. You turn your head to the +right, but your image turns to the left." + +Mr. Gryce's laugh rang out in spite of himself. He was not often caught +napping, but this woman exercised a species of fascination upon him at +times, and it rather amused than offended him, when he was obliged to +acknowledge himself defeated. + +"Very good! You have proved your point quite satisfactorily; but what +conclusions are to be drawn from it? That the man was not left-handed, +or that he was not standing in the place you have assigned to him?" + +"Shall we go against the doctors? They say that the blow was a +left-handed one. Mr. Gryce, I would give anything for an hour spent with +you in Mr. Adams's study, with Bartow free to move about at his will. I +think we would learn more by watching him for a short space of time than +in talking as we are doing for an hour." + +It was said tentatively, almost timidly. Miss Butterworth had some sense +of the temerity involved in this suggestion even if, according to her +own declaration, she had no curiosity. "I don't want to be +disagreeable," she smiled. + +She was so far from being so that Mr. Gryce was taken unawares, and for +once in his life became impulsive. + +"I think it can be managed, madam; that is, after the funeral. There are +too many officials now in the house, and----" + +"Of course, of course," she acceded. "I should not think of obtruding +myself at present. But the case is so interesting, and my connection +with it so peculiar, that I sometimes forget myself. Do you think"--here +she became quite nervous for one of her marked self-control--"that I +have laid myself open to a summons from the coroner?" + +Mr. Gryce grew thoughtful, eyed the good lady, or rather her folded +hands, with an air of some compassion, and finally replied: + +"The facts regarding this affair come in so slowly that I doubt if the +inquest is held for several days. Meanwhile we may light on those two +young people ourselves. If so, the coroner may _overlook_ your share in +bringing them to our notice." + +There was a sly emphasis on the word, and a subtle humor in his look +that showed the old detective at his worst. But Miss Butterworth did not +resent it; she was too full of a fresh confession she had to make. + +"Ah," said she, "if they had been the only persons I encountered there. +But they were not. Another person entered the house before I left it, +and I may be obliged to speak of him." + +"Of him? Really, madam, you are a mine of intelligence." + +"Yes, sir," was the meek reply; meek, when you consider from whose lips +it came. "I ought to have spoken of him before, but I never like to mix +matters, and this old gentleman----" + +"Old gentleman!" + +"Yes, sir, very old and very much of a gentleman, did not appear to have +any connection with the crime beyond knowing the murdered man." + +"Ah, but that's a big connection, ma'am. To find some one who knew Mr. +Adams--really, madam, patience has its limits, and I must press you to +speak." + +"Oh, I will speak! The time has come for it. Besides, I'm quite ready to +discuss this new theme; it is very interesting." + +"Suppose we begin, then, by a detailed account of your adventures in +this house of death," dryly suggested the detective. "Your full +adventures, madam, with nothing left out." + +"I appreciate the sarcasm, but nothing has been left out except what I +am about to relate to you. It happened just as I was leaving the house." + +"What did? I hate to ask you to be more explicit. But, in the interests +of justice----" + +"You are quite right. As I was going out, then, I encountered an elderly +gentleman coming in. His hand had just touched the bell handle. You will +acknowledge that it was a perplexing moment for me. His face, which was +well preserved for his years, wore an air of expectation that was almost +gay. He glanced in astonishment at mine, which, whatever its usual +serenity, certainly must have borne marks of deep emotion. Neither of us +spoke. At last he inquired politely if he might enter, and said +something about having an appointment with some one in the study. At +which I stepped briskly enough aside, I assure you, for this might +mean--What did you say? Did I close the door? I assuredly did. Was I to +let the whole of ---- Street into the horrors of this house at a moment +when a poor old man--No, I didn't go out myself. Why should I? Was I to +leave a man on the verge of eighty--excuse me, not every man of eighty +is so hale and vigorous as yourself--to enter such a scene alone? +Besides, I had not warned him of the condition of the only other living +occupant of the house." + +"Discreet, very. Quite what was to be expected of you, Miss Butterworth. +More than that. You followed him, no doubt, with careful supervision, +down the hall." + +"Most certainly! What would you have thought of me if I had not? He was +in a strange house; there was no servant to guide him, he wanted to know +the way to the study, and I politely showed him there." + +"Kind of you, madam,--very. It must have been an interesting moment to +you." + +"Very interesting! Too interesting! I own that I am not made entirely of +steel, sir, and the shock he received at finding a dead man awaiting +him, instead of a live one, was more or less communicated to me. Yet I +stood my ground." + +"Admirable! I could have done no better myself. And so this man who had +an appointment with Mr. Adams was shocked, really shocked, at finding +him lying there under a cross, dead?" + +"Yes, there was no doubting that. Shocked, surprised, terrified, and +something more. It is that something more which has proved my +perplexity. I cannot make it out, not even in thinking it over. Was it +the fascination which all horrible sights exert on the morbid, or was it +a sudden realization of some danger he had escaped, or of some +difficulty yet awaiting him? Hard to say, Mr. Gryce, hard to say; but +you may take my word for it that there was more to him in this meeting +than an unexpected stumbling upon a dead man where he expected to find a +live one. Yet he made no sound after that first cry, and hardly any +movement. He just stared at the figure on the floor; then at his face, +which he seemed to devour, at first with curiosity, then with hate, then +with terror, and lastly--how can I express myself?--with a sort of +hellish humor that in another moment might have broken into something +like a laugh, if the bird, which I had failed to observe up to this +moment, had not waked in its high cage, and, thrusting its beak between +the bars, shrilled out in the most alarming of tones: 'Remember Evelyn!' +That startled the old man even more than the sight on the floor had +done. He turned round, and I saw his fist rise as if against some +menacing intruder, but it quickly fell again as his eyes encountered the +picture which hung before him, and with a cringe painful to see in one +of his years, he sidled back till he reached the doorway. Here he paused +a minute to give another look at the man outstretched at his feet, and I +heard him say: + +"'It is Amos's son, not Amos! Is it fatality, or did he plan this +meeting, thinking----' + +"But here he caught sight of my figure in the antechamber beyond, and +resuming in an instant his former debonair manner, he bowed very low and +opened his lips as if about to ask a question. But he evidently thought +better of it, for he strode by me and made his way to the front door +without a word. Being an intruder myself, I did not like to stop him. +But I am sorry now for the consideration I showed him; for just before +he stepped out, his emotion--the special character of which, I own to +you, I find impossible to understand--culminated in a burst of raucous +laughter which added the final horror to this amazing adventure. Then he +went out, and in the last glimpse I had of him before the door shut he +wore the same look of easy self-satisfaction with which he had entered +this place of death some fifteen minutes before." + +"Remarkable! Some secret history there! That man must be found. He can +throw light upon Mr. Adams's past. 'Amos's son,' he called him? Who is +Amos? Mr. Adams's name was Felix. Felix, the son of Amos. Perhaps this +connection of names may lead to something. It is not a common one, and +if given to the papers, may result in our receiving a clew to a mystery +which seems impenetrable. Your stay in Mr. Adams's house was quite +productive, ma'am. Did you prolong it after the departure of this old +man?" + +"No, sir, I had had my fill of the mysterious, and left immediately +after him. Ashamed of the spirit of investigation which had led me to +enter the house, I made a street boy the medium of my communication to +the police, and would have been glad if I could have so escaped all +responsibility in the matter. But the irony of fate follows me as it +does others. A clew was left of my presence, which involves me in this +affair, whether I will or no. Was the hand of Providence in this? +Perhaps. The future will tell. And now, Mr. Gryce, since my budget is +quite empty and the hour late, I will take my leave. If you hear from +that bit of paper----" + +"If I hear from it in the way you suggest I will let you know. It will +be the least I can do for a lady who has done so much for me." + +"Now you flatter me--proof positive that I have stayed a minute longer +than was judicious. Good evening, Mr. Gryce. What? I have not stayed too +long? You have something else to ask." + +"Yes, and this time it is concerning a matter personal to yourself. May +I inquire if you wore the same bonnet yesterday that you do to-day?" + +"No, sir. I know you have a good reason for this question, and so will +not express my surprise. Yesterday I was in reception costume, and my +bonnet was a jet one----" + +"With long strings tied under the chin?" + +"No, sir, short strings; long strings are no longer the fashion." + +"But you wore something which fell from your neck?" + +"Yes, a boa--a feather boa. How came you to know it, sir? Did I leave my +image in one of the mirrors?" + +"Hardly. If so, I should not have expected it to speak. You merely wrote +the fact on the study table top. Or so I have dared to think. You or the +young lady--did she wear ribbons or streamers, too?" + +"That I cannot say. Her face was all I saw, and the skirt of a +dove-colored silk dress." + +"Then you must settle the question for me in this way. If on the tips of +that boa of yours you find the faintest evidence of its having been +dipped in blood, I shall know that the streaks found on the top of the +table I speak of were evidences of your presence there. But if your boa +is clean, or was not long enough to touch that dying man as you leaned +over him, then we have proof that the young lady with the dove-colored +plumes fingered that table also, instead of falling at once into the +condition in which you saw her carried out." + +"I fear that it is my boa which will tell the tale: another proof of the +fallibility of man, or, rather, woman. In secret search for clews I left +behind me traces of my own presence. I really feel mortified, sir, and +you have quite the advantage of me." + +And with this show of humility, which may not have been entirely +sincere, this estimable lady took her departure. + +Did Mr. Gryce suffer from any qualms of conscience at having elicited so +much and imparted so little? I doubt it. Mr. Gryce's conscience was +quite seared in certain places. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +IN THE ROUND OF THE STAIRCASE. + + +The next morning Mr. Gryce received a small communication from Miss +Butterworth at or near the very time she received one from him. Hers +ran: + + You were quite correct. So far as appears, I was the only person to + lean over Mr. Adams's study table after his unfortunate death. I + have had to clip the ends of my boa. + +His was equally laconic: + + My compliments, madam! Mr. Adams's jaws have been forced apart. A + small piece of paper was found clinched between his teeth. This + paper has been recovered, and will be read at the inquest. Perhaps + a few favored persons may be granted the opportunity of reading it + before then, notably yourself. + +Of the two letters the latter naturally occasioned the greater +excitement in the recipient. The complacency of Miss Butterworth was +superb, and being the result of something that could not be communicated +to those about her, occasioned in the household much speculation as to +its cause. + +At Police Headquarters more than one man was kept busy listening to the +idle tales of a crowd of would-be informers. The results which had +failed to follow the first day's publication of the crime came rapidly +in during the second. There were innumerable persons of all ages and +conditions who were ready to tell how they had seen this and that one +issue from Mr. Adams's house on the afternoon of his death, but when +asked to give a description of these persons, lost themselves in +generalities as tedious as they were unprofitable. One garrulous old +woman had observed a lady of genteel appearance open the door to an +elderly gentleman in a great-coat; and a fashionably dressed young woman +came in all breathless to relate how a young man with a very pale young +lady on his arm ran against her as she was going by this house at the +very hour Mr. Adams was said to have been murdered. She could not be +sure of knowing the young man again, and could not say if the young lady +was blonde or brunette, only that she was awfully pale and had a +beautiful gray feather in her hat. + +Others were ready with similar stories, which confirmed, without adding +to, the facts already known, and night came on without much progress +having been made toward the unravelling of this formidable mystery. + +On the next day Mr. Adams's funeral took place. No relatives or intimate +friends having come forward, his landlord attended to these rites and +his banker acted the part of chief mourner. As his body was carried out +of the house, a half-dozen detectives mingled with the crowd blocking +the thoroughfare in front, but nothing came of their surveillance here +or at the cemetery to which the remains were speedily carried. The +problem which had been presented to the police had to be worked out from +such material as had already come to hand; and, in forcible recognition +of this fact, Mr. Gryce excused himself one evening at Headquarters and +proceeded quite alone and on foot to the dark and apparently closed +house in which the tragedy had occurred. + +He entered with a key, and once inside, proceeded to light up the whole +house. This done, he took a look at the study, saw that the cross had +been replaced on the wall, the bird-cage rehung on its hook under the +ceiling, and everything put in its wonted order, with the exception of +the broken casings, which still yawned in a state of disrepair on either +side of the doorway leading into the study. The steel plate had been +shoved back into the place prepared for it by Mr. Adams, but the +glimpses still to be seen of its blue surface through the hole made in +the wall of the antechamber formed anything but an attractive feature +in the scene, and Mr. Gryce, with something of the instinct and much of +the deftness of a housewife, proceeded to pull up a couple of rugs from +the parlor floor and string them over these openings. Then he consulted +his watch, and finding that it was within an hour of nine o'clock, took +up his stand behind the curtains of the parlor window. Soon, for the +person expected was as prompt as himself, he saw a carriage stop and a +lady alight, and he hastened to the front door to receive her. It was +Miss Butterworth. + +"Madam, your punctuality is equal to my own," said he. "Have you ordered +your coachman to drive away?" + +"Only as far as the corner," she returned, as she followed him down the +hall. "There he will await the call of your whistle." + +"Nothing could be better. Are you afraid to remain for a moment alone, +while I watch from the window the arrival of the other persons we +expect? At present there is no one in the house but ourselves." + +"If I was subject to fear in a matter of this kind, I should not be here +at all. Besides, the house is very cheerfully lighted. I see you have +chosen a crimson light for illuminating the study." + +"Because a crimson light was burning when Mr. Adams died." + +"Remember Evelyn!" called out a voice. + +"Oh, you have brought back the bird!" exclaimed Miss Butterworth. "That +is not the cry with which it greeted me before. It was 'Eva! Lovely +Eva!' Do you suppose Eva and Evelyn are the same?" + +"Madam, we have so many riddles before us that we will let this one go +for the present. I expect Mr. Adams's valet here in a moment." + +"Sir, you relieve me of an immense weight. I was afraid that the +privilege of being present at the test you propose to make was not to be +accorded me." + +"Miss Butterworth, you have earned a seat at this experiment. Bartow has +been given a key, and will enter as of old in entire freedom to do as he +wills. We have simply to watch his movements." + +"In this room, sir? I do not think I shall like that. I had rather not +meet this madman face to face." + +"You will not be called upon to do so. We do not wish him to be startled +by encountering any watchful eye. Irresponsible as he is, he must be +allowed to move about without anything to distract his attention. +Nothing must stand in the way of his following those impulses which may +yield us a clew to his habits and the ways of this peculiar household. I +propose to place you where the chances are least in favor of your being +seen by him--in this parlor, madam, which we have every reason to +believe was seldom opened during Mr. Adams's lifetime." + +"You must put out the gas, then, or the unaccustomed light will attract +his attention." + +"I will not only put out the gas, but I will draw the portières close, +making this little hole for your eye and this one for mine. A common +expedient, madam; but serviceable, madam, serviceable." + +The snort which Miss Butterworth gave as she thus found herself drawn up +in darkness before a curtain, in company with this plausible old man, +but feebly conveyed her sensations, which were naturally complex and a +little puzzling to herself. Had she been the possessor of a lively +curiosity (but we know from her own lips that she was not), she might +have found some enjoyment in the situation. But being where she was +solely from a sense of duty, she probably blushed behind her screen at +the position in which she found herself, in the cause of truth and +justice; or would have done so if the opening of the front door at that +moment had not told her that the critical moment had arrived and that +the deaf-and-dumb valet had just been introduced into the house. + +The faintest "Hush!" from Mr. Gryce warned her that her surmise was +correct, and, bending her every energy to listen, she watched for the +expected appearance of this man in the antechamber of Mr. Adams's former +study. + +He came even sooner than she was prepared to see him, and laying down +his hat on a table near the doorway, advanced with a busy air toward the +portière he had doubtless been in the habit of lifting twenty times a +day. But he barely touched it this time. Something seen, or unseen, +prevented him from entering. Was it the memory of what he had last +beheld there? Or had he noticed the rugs hanging in an unaccustomed way +on either side of the damaged casings? Neither, apparently, for he +simply turned away with a meek look, wholly mechanical, and taking up +his hat again, left the antechamber and proceeded softly upstairs. + +"I will follow him," whispered Mr. Gryce. "Don't be afraid, ma'am. This +whistle will bring a man in from the street at once." + +"I am not afraid. I would be ashamed----" + +But it was useless for her to finish this disclaimer. Mr. Gryce was +already in the hall. He returned speedily, and saying that the +experiment was likely to be a failure, as the old man had gone to his +own room and was preparing himself for bed, he led the way into the +study, and with purpose, or without a purpose--who knows?--idly touched +a button on the table top, thus throwing a new light on the scene. It +was Miss Butterworth's first experience of this change of light, and she +was observing the effect made by the violet glow now thrown over the +picture and the other rich articles in the room when her admiration was +cut short, and Mr. Gryce's half-uttered remark also, by the faint sound +of the valet's descending steps. + +Indeed, they had barely time to regain their old position behind the +parlor portières when Bartow was seen hurrying in from the hall with his +former busy air, which this time remained unchecked. + +Crossing to his master's study, he paused for an infinitesimal length of +time on the threshold, as if conscious of something being amiss, then +went into the room beyond, and, without a glance in the direction of the +rug, which had been carefully relaid on the spot where his master had +fallen, began to make such arrangements for the night as he was in the +habit of making at this hour. He brought a bottle of wine from the +cupboard and set it on the table, and then a glass, which he first wiped +scrupulously clean. Then he took out his master's dressing gown and +slippers, and, placing them to hand, went into the bedroom. + +By this time the two watchers had crept from their concealment near +enough to note what he was doing in the bedroom. He was stooping over +the comb which Mr. Gryce had left lying on the floor. This small object +in such a place seemed to surprise him. He took it up, shook his head, +and put it back on the dresser. Then he turned down his master's bed. + +"Poor fool!" murmured Miss Butterworth as she and her companion crept +back to their old place behind the parlor curtains, "he has forgotten +everything but his old routine duties. We shall get nothing from this +man." + +But she stopped suddenly; they both stopped. Bartow was in the middle of +the study, with his eyes fixed on his master's empty chair in an +inquiring way that spoke volumes. Then he turned, and gazed earnestly at +the rug where he had last seen that master lying outstretched and +breathless; and awakening to a realization of what had happened, fell +into his most violent self and proceeded to go through the series of +actions which they were now bound to consider a reproduction of what he +had previously seen take place there. Then he went softly out, and crept +away upstairs. + +Mr. Gryce and Miss Butterworth stepped at once into the light, and +surveyed each other with a look of marked discouragement. Then the +latter, with a sudden gleam of enthusiasm, cried quickly: + +"Turn on another color, and let us see what will happen. I have an idea +it will fetch the old man down again." + +Mr. Gryce's brows went up. + +"Do you think he can see through the floor?" + +But he touched a button, and a rich blue took the place of the violet. + +Nothing happened. + +Miss Butterworth looked disturbed. + +"I have confidence in your theories," began Mr. Gryce, "but when they +imply the possibility of this man seeing through blank walls and obeying +signals which can have no signification to any one on the floor +above----" + +"Hark!" she cried, holding up one finger with a triumphant air. The old +man's steps could be heard descending. + +This time he approached with considerable feebleness, passed slowly into +the study, advanced to the table, and reached out his hands as if to +lift something which he expected to find there. Seeing nothing, he +glanced in astonishment up at the book shelves and then back to the +table, shook his head, and suddenly collapsing, sank in a doze on the +nearest chair. + +Miss Butterworth drew a long breath, eyed Mr. Gryce with some curiosity, +and then triumphantly exclaimed: + +"Can you read the meaning of all that? I think I can. Don't you see that +he came expecting to find a pile of books on the table which it was +probably his business to restore to their shelves?" + +"But how can he know what light is burning here? You can see for +yourself that there is no possible communication between this room and +the one in which he has always been found by any one going above." + +Miss Butterworth's manner showed a hesitation that was almost naive. She +smiled, and there was apology in her smile, though none in her voice, as +she remarked with odd breaks: + +"When I went upstairs--you know I went upstairs when I was here +before--I saw a little thing--a very little thing--which you doubtless +observed yourself and which may explain, though I do not know how, why +Bartow can perceive these lights from the floor above." + +"I shall be very glad to hear about it, madam. I thought I had +thoroughly searched those rooms----" + +"And the halls?" + +"And the halls; and that nothing in them could have escaped my eyes. But +if you have a more patient vision than myself----" + +"Or make it my business to look lower----" + +"How?" + +"To look lower; to look on the floor, say." + +"On the floor?" + +"The floor sometimes reveals much: shows where a person steps the +oftenest, and, therefore, where he has the most business. You must have +noticed how marred the woodwork is at the edge of the carpeting on that +little landing above." + +"In the round of the staircase?" + +"Yes." + +Mr. Gryce did not think it worth his while to answer. Perhaps he had not +time; for leaving the valet where he was, and Miss Butterworth where she +was (only she would not be left, but followed him), he made his way +upstairs, and paused at the place she had mentioned, with a curious look +at the floor. + +"You see, it has been much trodden here," she said; at which gentle +reminder of her presence he gave a start; possibly he had not heard her +behind him, and after sixty years of hard service even a detective may +be excused a slight nervousness. "Now, why should it be trodden here? +There is no apparent reason why any one should shuffle to and fro in +this corner. The stair is wide, especially here, and there is no +window----" + +Mr. Gryce, whose eye had been travelling over the wall, reached over her +shoulder to one of the dozen pictures hanging at intervals from the +bottom to the top of the staircase, and pulling it away from the wall, +on which it hung decidedly askew, revealed a round opening through which +poured a ray of blue light which could only proceed from the vault of +the adjoining study. + +"No window," he repeated. "No, but an opening into the study wall which +answers the same purpose. Miss Butterworth, your eye is to be trusted +every time. I only wonder you did not pull this picture aside yourself." + +"It was not hanging crooked then. Besides I was in a hurry. I had just +come from my encounter with this demented man. I had noticed the marks +on the landing, and the worn edges of the carpet, on my way upstairs. I +was in no condition to observe them on my way down." + +"I see." + +Miss Butterworth ran her foot to and fro over the flooring they were +examining. + +"Bartow was evidently in the habit of coming here constantly," said she, +"probably to learn whether his master had need of him. Ingenious in Mr. +Adams to contrive signals for communication with this man! He certainly +had great use for his deaf-and-dumb servant. So one mystery is solved!" + +"And if I am not mistaken, we can by a glance through this loophole +obtain the answer to another. You are wondering, I believe, how Bartow, +if he followed the movements of the assailant from the doorway, came to +thrust with his left hand, instead of with his right. Now if he saw the +tragedy from this point, he saw it over the assailant's shoulder, +instead of face to face. What follows? He would imitate literally the +movements of the man he saw, turn in the same direction and strike with +the same hand." + +"Mr. Gryce, we are beginning to untangle the threads that looked so +complicated. Ah, what is that? Why, it's that bird! His cage must be +very nearly under this hole." + +"A little to one side, madam, but near enough to give you a start. What +was it he cried then?" + +"Oh, those sympathetic words about Eva! 'Poor Eva!'" + +"Well, give a glance to Bartow. You can see him very well from here." + +Miss Butterworth put her eye again to the opening, and gave a grunt, a +very decided grunt. With her a grunt was significant of surprise. + +"He is shaking his fist; he is all alive with passion. He looks as if he +would like to kill the bird." + +"Perhaps that is why the creature was strung up so high. You may be sure +Mr. Adams had some basis for his idiosyncrasies." + +"I begin to think so. I don't know that I care to go back where that man +is. He has a very murderous look." + +"And a very feeble arm, Miss Butterworth. You are safe under my +protection. My arm is not feeble." + +[Illustration: A-Table. B-Small Stand. C-Door to Bedroom. D-Evelyn's +Picture E-Loophole on Stair Landing. F-Entrance to Study.] [1] + +[Footnote 1: Since my readers may not understand how an opening above +the stairway might communicate with Mr. Adams's study, I here submit a +diagram of the same. The study walls were very high, forming a rounded +extension at the back of the house.] + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +HIGH AND LOW. + + +At the foot of the stairs, Mr. Gryce excused himself, and calling in two +or three men whom he had left outside, had the valet removed before +taking Miss Butterworth back into the study. When all was quiet again, +and they found an opportunity to speak, Mr. Gryce remarked: + +"One very important thing has been settled by the experiment we have +just made. Bartow is acquitted of participation in this crime." + +"Then we can give our full attention to the young people. You have heard +nothing from them, I suppose?" + +"No." + +"Nor from the old man who laughed?" + +"No." + +Miss Butterworth looked disappointed. + +"I thought--it seemed very probable--that the scrap of writing you found +would inform you who these were. If it was important enough for the +dying man to try to swallow it, it certainly should give some clew to +his assailant." + +"Unfortunately, it does not do so. It was a veritable scrawl, madam, +running something like this: 'I return your daughter to you. She is +here. Neither she nor you will ever see me again. Remember Evelyn!' And +signed, 'Amos's son.'" + +"Amos's son! That is Mr. Adams himself." + +"So we have every reason to believe." + +"Strange! Unaccountable! And the paper inscribed with these words was +found clinched between his teeth! Was the handwriting recognized?" + +"Yes, as his own, if we can judge from the specimens we have seen of his +signature on the fly-leaves of his books." + +"Well, mysteries deepen. And the retaining of this paper was so +important to him that even in his death throe he thrust it in this +strangest of all hiding-places, as being the only one that could be +considered safe from search. And the girl! Her first words on coming to +herself were: 'You have left that line of writing behind.' Mr. Gryce, +those words, few and inexplicable as they are, contain the key to the +whole situation. Will you repeat them again, if you please, sentence by +sentence?" + +"With pleasure, madam; I have said them often enough to myself. First, +then: 'I return your daughter to you!'" + +"So! Mr. Adams had some one's daughter in charge whom he returns. Whose +daughter? Not that young man's daughter, certainly, for that would +necessitate her being a small child. Besides, if these words had been +meant for his assailant, why make so remarkable an effort to hide them +from him?" + +"Very true! I have said the same thing to myself." + +"Yet, if not for him, for whom, then? For the old gentleman who came in +later?" + +"It is possible; since hearing of him I have allowed myself to regard +this as among the possibilities, especially as the next words of this +strange communication are: 'She is here.' Now the only woman who was +there a few minutes previous to this old gentleman's visit was the +light-haired girl whom you saw carried out." + +"Very true; but why do you reason as if this paper had just been +written? It might have been an old scrap, referring to past sorrows or +secrets." + +"These words were written that afternoon. The paper on which they were +scrawled was torn from a sheet of letter paper lying on the desk, and +the pen with which they were inscribed--you must have noticed where it +lay, quite out of its natural place on the extreme edge of the table." + +"Certainly, sir; but I had little idea of the significance we might come +to attach to it. These words are connected, then, with the girl I saw. +And she is not Evelyn or he would not have repeated in this note the +bird's catch-word, 'Remember Evelyn!' I wonder if she is Evelyn?" +proceeded Miss Butterworth, pointing to the one large picture which +adorned the wall. + +"We may call her so for the nonce. So melancholy a face may well suggest +some painful family secret. But how explain the violent part played by +the young man, who is not mentioned in these abrupt and hastily penned +sentences! It is all a mystery, madam, a mystery which we are wasting +time to attempt to solve." + +"Yet I hate to give it up without an effort. Those words, now. There +were some other words you have not repeated to me." + +"They came before that injunction, 'Remember Evelyn!' They bespoke a +resolve. 'Neither she nor you will ever see me again.'" + +"Ah! but these few words are very significant, Mr. Gryce. Could he have +dealt that blow himself? May he have been a suicide after all?" + +"Madam, you have the right to inquire; but from Bartow's pantomime, you +must have perceived it is not a self-inflicted blow he mimics, but a +maddened thrust from an outraged hand. Let us keep to our first +conclusions; only--to be fair to every possibility--the condition of Mr. +Adams's affairs and the absence of all family papers and such documents +as may usually be found in a wealthy man's desk prove that he had made +some preparation for possible death. It may have come sooner than he +expected and in another way, but it was a thought he had indulged in, +and--madam, I have a confession to make also. I have not been quite fair +to my most valued colleague. The study--that most remarkable of +rooms--contains a secret which has not been imparted to you; a very +peculiar one, madam, which was revealed to me in a rather startling +manner. This room can be, or rather could be, cut off entirely from the +rest of the house; made a death-trap of, or rather a tomb, in which this +incomprehensible man may have intended to die. Look at this plate of +steel. It is worked by a mechanism which forces it across this open +doorway. I was behind that plate of steel the other night, and these +holes had to be made to let me out." + +"Ha! You detectives have your experiences! I should not have enjoyed +spending that especial evening with you. But what an old-world tragedy +we are unearthing here! I declare"--and the good lady actually rubbed +her eyes--"I feel as if transported back to mediæval days. Who says we +are living in New York within sound of the cable car and the singing of +the telegraph wire?" + +"Some men are perfectly capable of bringing the mediæval into Wall +Street. I think Mr. Adams was one of those men. Romanticism tinged all +his acts, even the death he died. Nor did it cease with his death. It +followed him to the tomb. Witness the cross we found lying on his +bosom." + +"That was the act of another's hand, the result of another's +superstition. That shows the presence of a priest or a woman at the +moment he died." + +"Yet," proceeded Mr. Gryce, with a somewhat wondering air, "he must have +had a grain of hard sense in his make-up. All his contrivances worked. +He was a mechanical genius, as well as a lover of mystery." + +"An odd combination. Strange that we do not feel his spirit infecting +the very air of this study. I could almost wish it did. We might then be +led to grasp the key to this mystery." + +"That," remarked Mr. Gryce, "can be done in only one way. You have +already pointed it out. We must trace the young couple who were present +at his death struggle. If they cannot be found the case is hopeless." + +"And so," said she, "we come around to the point from which we +started--proof positive that we are lost in the woods." And Miss +Butterworth rose. She felt that for the time being she, at least, had +come to the end of her resources. + +Mr. Gryce did not seek to detain her. Indeed, he appeared to be anxious +to leave the place himself. They, however, stopped long enough to cast +one final look around them. As they did so Miss Butterworth's finger +slowly rose. + +"See!" said she, "you can hardly perceive from this side of the wall the +opening made by the removal of that picture on the stair landing. +Wouldn't you say that it was in the midst of those folds of dark-colored +tapestry up there?" + +"Yes, I had already located that spot as the one. With the picture hung +up on the other side, it would be quite invisible." + +"One needs to keep one's eyes moving in a case like this. That picture +must have been drawn aside several times while we were in this room. Yet +we failed to notice it." + +"That was from not looking high enough. High and low, Mr. Gryce! What +goes on at the level of the eye is apparent to every one." + +The smile with which he acknowledged this parting shot and prepared to +escort her to the door had less of irony than sadness in it. Was he +beginning to realize that years tell even on the most sagacious, and +that neither high places nor low would have escaped his attention a +dozen years before? + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +BRIDE ROSES. + + +"A blonde, you say, sir?" + +"Yes, Sweetwater; not of the usual type, but one of those frail, +ethereal creatures whom we find it so hard to associate with crime. He, +on the contrary, according to Miss Butterworth's description (and her +descriptions may be relied upon), is one of those gentlemanly athletes +whose towering heads and powerful figures attract universal attention. +Seen together, you would be apt to know them. But what reason have we +for thinking they will be found together?" + +"How were they dressed?" + +"Like people of fashion and respectability. He wore a brown-checked suit +apparently fresh from the tailor; she, a dove-colored dress with white +trimmings. The parasol shows the color of her hat and plumes. Both were +young, and (still according to Miss Butterworth) of sensitive +temperament and unused to crime; for she was in a fainting condition +when carried from the house, and he, with every inducement to +self-restraint, showed himself the victim of such powerful emotion that +he would have been immediately surrounded and questioned if he had not +set his burden down in the vestibule and at once plunged with the girl +into the passing crowd. Do you think you can find them, Sweetwater?" + +"Have you no clews to their identity beyond this parasol?" + +"None, Sweetwater, if you except these few faded rose leaves picked up +from the floor of Mr. Adams's study." + +"Then you have given me a problem, Mr. Gryce," remarked the young +detective dubiously, as he eyed the parasol held out to him and let the +rose-leaves drop carelessly through his fingers. "Somehow I do not feel +the same assurances of success that I did before. Perhaps I more fully +realize the difficulties of any such quest, now that I see how much +rests upon chance in these matters. If Miss Butterworth had not been a +precise woman, I should have failed in my former attempt, as I am likely +to fail in this one. But I will make another effort to locate the owner +of this parasol, if only to learn my business by failure. And now, sir, +where do you think I am going first? To a florist's, with these faded +rose-leaves. Just because every other young fellow on the force would +make a start from the parasol, I am going to try and effect one from +these rose-leaves. I may be an egotist, but I cannot help that. I can do +nothing with the parasol." + +"And what do you hope to do with the rose-leaves? How can a florist help +you in finding this young woman by means of them?" + +"He may be able to say from what kind of a rose they fell, and once I +know that, I may succeed in discovering the particular store from which +the bouquet was sold to this more or less conspicuous couple." + +"You may. I am not the man to throw cold water on any one's schemes. +Every man has his own methods, and till they are proved valueless I say +nothing." + +Young Sweetwater, who was now all nerve, enthusiasm, and hope, bowed. He +was satisfied to be allowed to work in his own way. + +"I may be back in an hour, and you may not see me for a week," he +remarked on leaving. + +"Luck to your search!" was the short reply. This ended the interview. In +a few minutes more Sweetwater was off. + +The hour passed; he did not come back; the day, and still no Sweetwater. +Another day went by, enlivened only by an interchange of notes between +Mr. Gryce and Miss Butterworth. Hers was read by the old detective with +a smile. Perhaps because it was so terse; perhaps because it was so +characteristic. + + Dear Mr. Gryce: + + I do not presume to dictate or even to offer a suggestion to the + New York police, but have you inquired of the postman in a certain + district whether he can recall the postmark on any of the letters + he delivered to Mr. Adams? + + A. B. + +His, on the contrary, was perused with a frown by his exacting colleague +in Gramercy Park. The reason is obvious. + + Dear Miss Butterworth: + + Suggestions are always in order, and even dictation can be endured + from you. The postman delivers too many letters on that block to + concern himself with postmarks. Sorry to close another + thoroughfare. + + E. G. + +Meanwhile, the anxiety of both was great; that of Mr. Gryce excessive. +He was consequently much relieved when, on the third morning, he found +Sweetwater awaiting him at the office, with a satisfied smile lighting +up his plain features. He had reserved his story for his special patron, +and as soon as they were closeted together he turned with beaming eyes +toward the old detective, crying: + +"News, sir; good news! I have found them; I have found them both, and by +such a happy stroke! It was a blind trail, but when the florist said +that those petals might have fallen from a bride rose--well, sir, I know +that any woman can carry bride roses, but when I remembered that the +clothes of her companion looked as though they had just come from the +tailor's, and that she wore gray and white--why, it gave me an idea, and +I began my search after this unknown pair at the Bureau of Vital +Statistics." + +"Brilliant!" ejaculated the old detective. "That is, if the thing +worked." + +"And it did, sir; it did. I may have been born under a lucky star, +probably was, but once started on this line of search, I went straight +to the end. Shall I tell you how? Hunting through the list of such +persons as had been married within the city limits during the last two +weeks, I came upon the name of one Eva Poindexter. Eva! that was a name +well-known in the house on ---- Street. I decided to follow up this +Eva." + +"A wise conclusion! And how did you set about it?" + +"Why, I went directly to the clergyman who had performed the ceremony. +He was a kind and affable dominie, sir, and I had no trouble in talking +to him." + +"And you described the bride?" + +"No, I led the conversation so that he described her." + +"Good; and what kind of a woman did he make her out to be? Delicate? +Pale?" + +"Sir, he had not read the service for so lovely a bride in years. Very +slight, almost fragile, but beautiful, and with a delicate bloom which +showed her to be in better health than one would judge from her dainty +figure. It was a private wedding, sir, celebrated in a hotel parlor; but +her father was with her----" + +"Her father?" Mr. Gryce's theory received its first shock. Then the old +man who had laughed on leaving Mr. Adams's house was not the father to +whom those few lines in Mr. Adams's handwriting were addressed. Or this +young woman was not the person referred to in those lines. + +"Is there anything wrong about that?" inquired Sweetwater. + +Mr. Gryce became impassive again. + +"No; I had not expected his attendance at the wedding; that is all." + +"Sorry, sir, but there is no doubt about his having been there. The +bridegroom----" + +"Yes, tell me about the bridegroom." + +"Was the very man you described to me as leaving Mr. Adams's house with +her. Tall, finely developed, with a grand air and gentlemanly manners. +Even his clothes correspond with what you told me to expect: a checked +suit, brown in color, and of the latest cut. Oh, he is the man!" + +Mr. Gryce, with a suddenly developed interest in the lid of his +inkstand, recalled the lines which Mr. Adams had written immediately +before his death, and found himself wholly at sea. How reconcile facts +so diametrically opposed? What allusion could there be in these lines to +the new-made bride of another man? They read, rather, as if she were his +own bride, as witness: + + I return your daughter to you. She is here. Neither she nor you + will ever see me again. Remember Evelyn! + + AMOS'S SON. + +There must be something wrong. Sweetwater must have been led astray by a +series of extraordinary coincidences. Dropping the lid of the inkstand +in a way to make the young man smile, he looked up. + +"I'm afraid it's been a fool chase, Sweetwater. The facts you relate in +regard to this couple, the fact of their having been married at all, +tally so little with what we have been led to expect from certain other +evidences which have come in----" + +"Pardon me, sir, but will you hear me out? At the Imperial, where they +were married, I learned that the father and daughter had registered as +coming from a small place in Pennsylvania; but I could learn nothing in +regard to the bridegroom. He had not appeared on the scene till the time +for the ceremony, and after the marriage was seen to take his bride away +in one carriage while the old gentleman departed in another. The latter +concerned me little; it was the young couple I had been detailed to +find. Employing the usual means of search, I tracked them to the +Waldorf, where I learned what makes it certain that I have been +following the right couple. On the afternoon of the very day of Mr. +Adams's death, this young husband and wife left the hotel on foot and +did not come back. Their clothes, which had all been left behind, were +taken away two days later by an elderly gentleman who said he was her +father and whose appearance coincides with that of the person +registering as such at the Imperial. All of which looks favorable to my +theory, does it not, especially when you remember that the bridegroom's +name----" + +"You have not told it." + +"Is Adams, Thomas Adams. Same family as the murdered man, you see. At +least, he has the same name." + +Mr. Gryce surveyed the young man with admiration, but was not yet +disposed to yield him entire credence. + +"Humph! I do not wonder you thought it worth your while to follow up the +pair, if one of them is named Adams and the other Eva. But, Sweetwater, +the longer you serve on the force the more you will learn that +coincidences as strange and unexpected as these do occur at times, and +must be taken into account in the elucidation of a difficult problem. +Much as I may regret to throw cold water on your hopes, there are +reasons for believing that the young man and woman whom we are seeking +are not the ones you have busied yourself about for the last two days. +Certain facts which have come to light would seem to show that if she +had a husband at all, his name would not be Thomas Adams, but Felix, and +as the facts I have to bring forward are most direct and unimpeachable, +I fear you will have to start again, and on a new tack." + +But Sweetwater remained unshaken, and eyed his superior with a vague +smile playing about his lips. + +"You have not asked me, sir, where I have spent all the time which has +elapsed since I saw you last. The investigations I have mentioned did +not absorb more than a day." + +"Very true. Where have you been, Sweetwater?" + +"To Montgomery, sir, to that small town in Pennsylvania from which Mr. +Poindexter and his daughter registered." + +"Ah, I see! And what did you learn there? Something directly to the +point?" + +"I learned this, that John Poindexter, father of Eva, had for a friend +in early life one Amos Cadwalader." + +"Amos!" repeated Mr. Gryce, with an odd look. + +"Yes, and that this Amos had a son, Felix." + +"Ah!" + +"You see, sir, we must be on the right track; coincidences cannot extend +through half a dozen names." + +"You are right. It is I who have made a mistake in drawing my +conclusions too readily. Let us hear about this Amos. You gathered +something of his history, no doubt." + +"All that was possible, sir. It is closely woven in with that of +Poindexter, and presents one feature which may occasion you no surprise, +but which, I own, came near nonplussing me. Though the father of Felix, +his name was not Adams. I say was not, for he has been dead six months. +It was Cadwalader. And Felix went by the name of Cadwalader, too, in the +early days of which I have to tell, he and a sister whose name----" + +"Well?" + +"Was Evelyn." + +"Sweetwater, you are an admirable fellow. So the mystery is ours." + +"The history, not the mystery; that still holds. Shall I relate what I +know of those two families?" + +"At once: I am as anxious as if I were again twenty-three and had been +in your shoes instead of my own for the last three days." + +"Very well, sir. John Poindexter and Amos Cadwalader were, in their +early life, bosom friends. They had come from Scotland together and +settled in Montgomery in the thirties. Both married there, but John +Poindexter was a prosperous man from the first, while Cadwalader had +little ability to support a family, and was on the verge of bankruptcy +when the war of the rebellion broke out and he enlisted as a soldier. +Poindexter remained at home, caring for his own family and for the two +children of Cadwalader, whom he took into his own house. I say his own +family, but he had no family, save a wife, up to the spring of '80. Then +a daughter was born to him, the Eva who has just married Thomas Adams. +Cadwalader, who was fitted for army life, rose to be a captain; but he +was unfortunately taken prisoner at one of the late battles and confined +in Libby Prison, where he suffered the tortures of the damned till he +was released, in 1865, by a forced exchange of prisoners. Broken, old, +and crushed, he returned home, and no one living in the town at that +time will ever forget the day he alighted from the cars and took his way +up the main street. For not having been fortunate enough, or unfortunate +enough, perhaps, to receive any communication from home, he advanced +with a cheerful haste, not knowing that his only daughter then lay dead +in his friend's house, and that it was for her funeral that the people +were collecting in the green square at the end of the street. He was so +pale, broken, and decrepit that few knew him. But there was one old +neighbor who recognized him and was kind enough to lead him into a quiet +place, and there tell him that he had arrived just too late to see his +darling daughter alive. The shock, instead of prostrating the old +soldier, seemed to nerve him afresh and put new vigor into his limbs. He +proceeded, almost on a run, to Poindexter's house, and arrived just as +the funeral cortège was issuing from the door. And now happened a +strange thing. The young girl had been laid on an open bier, and was +being carried by six sturdy lads to her last resting place. As the +father's eye fell on her young body under its black pall, a cry of +mortal anguish escaped him, and he sank on his knees right in the line +of the procession. + +"At the same minute another cry went up, this time from behind the bier, +and John Poindexter could be seen reeling at the side of Felix +Cadwalader, who alone of all present (though he was the youngest and the +least) seemed to retain his self-possession at this painful moment. +Meanwhile the bereaved father, throwing himself at the side of the bier, +began tearing away at the pall in his desire to look upon the face of +her he had left in such rosy health four years before. But he was +stopped, not by Poindexter, who had vanished from the scene, but by +Felix, the cold, severe-looking boy who stood like a guard behind his +sister. Reaching out a hand so white it was in itself a shock, he laid +it in a certain prohibitory way on the pall, as if saying no. And when +his father would have continued the struggle, it was Felix who +controlled him and gradually drew him into the place at his own side +where a minute before the imposing figure of Poindexter had stood; after +which the bearers took up their burden again and moved on. + +"But the dramatic scene was not over. As they neared the churchyard +another procession, similar in appearance to their own, issued from an +adjoining street, and Evelyn's young lover, who had died almost +simultaneously with herself, was brought in and laid at her side. But +not in the same grave: this was noticed by all, though most eyes and +hearts were fixed upon Cadwalader, who had escaped his loathsome prison +and returned to the place of his affections for _this_. + +"Whether he grasped then and there the full meaning of this double +burial (young Kissam had shot himself upon hearing of Evelyn's death), +or whether all explanations were deferred till he and Felix walked away +together from the grave, has never transpired. From that minute till +they both left town on the following day, no one had any word with him, +save Poindexter, whom he went once to see, and young Kissam's mother, +who came once to see him. Like a phantom he had risen upon the sight of +the good people of Montgomery, and like a phantom he disappeared, never +to be seen by any of them again, unless, as many doubt, the story is +true which was told some twenty years ago by one of the little village +lads. He says (it was six years after the tragic scene I have just +related) that one evening as he was hurrying by the churchyard, in great +anxiety to reach home before it was too dark, he came upon the figure of +a man standing beside a grave, with a little child in his arms. This man +was tall, long-bearded, and terrifying. His attitude, as the lad +describes it, was one of defiance, if not of cursing. High in his right +hand he held the child, almost as if he would hurl him at the village +which lies under the hill on which the churchyard is perched; and though +the moment passed quickly, the boy, now a man, never has forgotten the +picture thus presented or admitted that it was anything but a real one. +As the description he gave of this man answered to the appearance of +Amos Cadwalader, and as the shoe of a little child was found next +morning on the grave of Cadwalader's daughter, Evelyn, it has been +thought by many that the boy really beheld this old soldier, who for +some mysterious reason had chosen nightfall for this fleeting visit to +his daughter's resting-place. But to others it was only a freak of the +lad's imagination, which had been much influenced by the reading of +romances. For, as these latter reasoned, had it really been Cadwalader, +why did he not show himself at John Poindexter's house--that old friend +who now had a little daughter and no wife and who could have made him so +comfortable? Among these was Poindexter himself, though some thought he +looked oddly while making this remark, as if he spoke more from custom +than from the heart. Indeed, since the unfortunate death of Evelyn in +his house, he had never shown the same interest in the Cadwaladers. But +then he was a man much occupied with great affairs, while the +Cadwaladers, except for their many griefs and misfortunes, were regarded +as comparatively insignificant people, unless we except Felix, who from +his earliest childhood had made himself feared even by grown people, +though he never showed a harsh spirit or exceeded the bounds of decorum +in speech or gesture. A year ago news came to Montgomery of Amos +Cadwalader's death, but no particulars concerning his family or burial +place. And that is all I have been able to glean concerning the +Cadwaladers." + +Mr. Gryce had again become thoughtful. + +"Have you any reason to believe that Evelyn's death was not a natural +one?" + +"No, sir. I interviewed the old mother of the young man who shot himself +out of grief at Evelyn's approaching death, and if any doubt had existed +concerning a matter which had driven her son to a violent end, she could +not have concealed it from me. But there seemed to have been none. +Evelyn Cadwalader was always of delicate health, and when a quick +consumption carried her off no one marvelled. Her lover, who adored her, +simply could not live without her, so he shot himself. There was no +mystery about the tragic occurrence except that it seemed to sever an +old friendship that once was firm as a rock. I allude to that between +the Poindexters and Cadwaladers." + +"Yet in this tragedy which has just occurred in ---- Street we see them +brought together again. Thomas Adams marries Eva Poindexter. But who is +Thomas Adams? You have not mentioned him in this history." + +"Not unless he was the child who was held aloft over Evelyn's grave." + +"Humph! That seems rather far-fetched. What did you learn about him in +Montgomery? Is he known there?" + +"As well as any stranger can be who spends his time in courting a young +girl. He came to Montgomery a few months ago, from some foreign +city--Paris, I think--and, being gifted with every personal charm +calculated to please a cultivated young woman, speedily won the +affections of Eva Poindexter, and also the esteem of her father. But +their favorable opinion is not shared by every one in the town. There +are those who have a good deal to say about his anxious and unsettled +eye." + +"Naturally; he could not marry all their daughters. But this history you +have given me: it is meagre, Sweetwater, and while it hints at something +deeply tragic, does not supply the key we want. A girl who died some +thirty years ago! A father who disappeared! A brother who, from being a +Cadwalader, has become an Adams! An Eva whose name, as well as that of +the long-buried Evelyn, was to be heard in constant repetition in the +place where the murdered Felix lay with those inscrutable lines in his +own writing, clinched between his teeth! It is a snarl, a perfect snarl, +of which we have as yet failed to pull the right thread. But we'll get +hold of it yet. I'm not going to be baffled in my old age by +difficulties I would have laughed at a dozen years ago." + +"But this right thread? How shall we know it among the fifty I see +entangled in this matter?" + +"First, find the whereabouts of this young couple--but didn't you tell +me you had done so; that you know where they are?" + +"Yes. I learned from the postmaster in Montgomery that a letter +addressed to Mrs. Thomas Adams had been sent from his post-office to +Belleville, Long Island." + +"Ah! I know that place." + +"And wishing to be assured that the letter was not a pretense, I sent a +telegram to the postmaster at Belleville. Here is his answer. It is +unequivocal: 'Mr. Poindexter of Montgomery, Pa. Mr. Thomas Adams and +Mrs. Adams of the same place have been at the Bedell House in this place +five days.'" + +"Very good; then we have them! Be ready to start for Belleville by one +o'clock sharp. And mind, Sweetwater, keep your wits alert and your +tongue still. Remember that as yet we are feeling our way blindfold, and +must continue to do so till some kind hand tears away the bandage from +our eyes. Go! I have a letter to write, for which you may send in a boy +at the end of five minutes." + +This letter was for Miss Butterworth, and created, a half-hour later, +quite a stir in the fine old mansion in Gramercy Park. It ran thus: + + Have you sufficient interest in the outcome of a certain matter to + take a short journey into the country? I leave town at 1 + P.M. for Belleville, Long Island. If you choose to do the + same, you will find me at the Bedell House, in that town, early in + the afternoon. If you enjoy novels, take one with you, and let me + see you reading it on the hotel piazza at five o'clock. I may be + reading too; if so, and my choice is a book, all is well, and you + may devour your story in peace. But if I lay aside my book and take + up a paper, devote but one eye to your story and turn the other on + the people who are passing you. If after you have done so, you + leave your book open, I shall understand that you fail to recognize + these persons. But if you shut the volume, you may expect to see me + also fold up my newspaper; for by so doing you will have signaled + me that you have identified the young man and woman you saw leaving + Mr. Adams's house on the fatal afternoon of your first entrance. E. + G. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +MISERY. + + +It is to be hoped that the well-dressed lady of uncertain age who was to +be seen late that afternoon in a remote corner of the hotel piazza at +Belleville had not chosen a tale requiring great concentration of mind, +for her eyes (rather fine ones in their way, showing both keenness and +good nature) seemed to find more to interest them in the scene before +her than in the pages she so industriously turned over. + +The scene was one calculated to interest an idle mind, no doubt. First, +there was the sea, a wide expanse of blue, dotted by numerous sails; +then the beach, enlivened by groups of young people dressed like +popinjays in every color; then the village street, and, lastly, a lawn +over which there now and then strayed young couples with tennis rackets +in their hands or golf sticks under their arms. Children, too--but +children did not seem to interest this amiable spinster. (There could be +no doubt about her being a spinster.) She scarcely glanced at them +twice, while a young married pair, or even an old gentleman, if he were +only tall and imperious-looking, invariably caused her eyes to wander +from her book, which, by the way, she held too near for seeing, or such +might have been the criticism of a wary observer. + +This criticism, if criticism it would be called, could not have been +made of the spruce, but rather feeble octogenarian at the other end of +the piazza. He was evidently absorbed in the novel he held so +conspicuously open, and which, from the smiles now and then disturbing +the usual placidity of his benevolent features, we can take for granted +was sufficiently amusing. Yet right in the midst of it, and certainly +before he had finished his chapter, he closed his book and took out a +newspaper, which he opened to its full width before sitting down to +peruse its columns. At the same moment the lady at the other end of the +piazza could be seen looking over her spectacles at two gentlemen who +just at that moment issued from the great door opening between her and +the elderly person just alluded to. Did she know them, or was it only +her curiosity that was aroused? From the way she banged together her +book and rose, it looked as if she had detected old acquaintances in the +distinguished-looking pair who were now advancing slowly toward her. But +if so, she could not have been overjoyed to see them, for after the +first hint of their approach in her direction she turned, with an aspect +of some embarrassment, and made her way out upon the lawn, where she +stood with her back to these people, caressing a small dog in a way that +betrayed her total lack of sympathy with these animals, which were +evidently her terror when she was sufficiently herself to be swayed by +her natural impulses. + +The two gentlemen, on the contrary, with an air of total indifference to +her proximity, continued their walk until they reached the end of the +piazza, and then turned and proceeded mechanically to retrace their +steps. + +Their faces now being brought within view of the elderly person who was +so absorbed in his newspaper, the latter shifted that sheet the merest +trifle, possibly because the sun struck his eyes too directly, possibly +because he wished to catch sight of two very remarkable men. If so, the +opportunity was good, as they stopped within a few feet of his chair. +One of them was elderly, as old as, if not older than, the man watching +him; but he was of that famous Scotch stock whose members are tough and +hale at eighty. This toughness he showed not only in his figure, which +was both upright and graceful, but in the glance of his calm, cold eye, +which fell upon everybody and everything unmoved, while that of his +young, but equally stalwart companion seemed to shrink with the most +acute sensitiveness from every person he met, save the very mild old +reader of news near whom they now paused for a half-dozen words of +conversation. + +"I don't think it does me any good," was the young man's gloomy remark. +"I am wretched when with her, and doubly wretched when I try to forget +myself for a moment out of her sight. I think we had better go back. I +had rather sit where she can see me than have her wonder--Oh, I will be +careful; but you must remember how unnerving is the very silence I am +obliged to keep about what is destroying us all. I am nearly as ill as +she." + +Here they drew off, and their apparently disinterested hearer turned the +page of his paper. It was five minutes before they came back. This time +it was the old gentleman who was speaking, and as he was more discreet +than his companion or less under the influence of his feelings, his +voice was lower and his words less easy to be distinguished. + +"Escape? South coast--she will forget to watch you for--a clinging +nature--impetuous, but foolishly affectionate--you know that--no +danger--found out--time--a cheerful home--courage--happiness--all +forgotten." + +A gesture from the young man as he moved away showed that he did not +share these hopes. Meanwhile Miss Butterworth--you surely have +recognized Miss Butterworth--had her opportunities too. She was still +stooping over the dog, which wriggled under her hand, yet did not offer +to run away, fascinated perhaps by that hesitating touch which he may or +may not have known had never inflicted itself upon a dog before. But her +ears, and attention, were turned toward two girls chatting on a bench +near her as freely as if they were quite alone on the lawn. They were +gossiping about a fellow-inmate of the big hotel, and Miss Butterworth +listened intently after hearing them mention the name Adams. These are +some of the words she caught: + +"But she is! I tell you she is sick enough to have a nurse and a doctor. +I caught a glimpse of her as I was going by her room yesterday, and I +never saw two such big eyes or such pale cheeks. Then, look at him! He +must just adore her, for he won't speak to another woman, and just moves +about in that small, hot room all day. I wonder if they are bride and +groom? They are young enough, and if you have noticed her clothes----" + +"Oh, don't talk about clothes. I saw her the first day she came, and was +the victim of despair until she suddenly got sick and so couldn't wear +those wonderful waists and jackets. I felt like a dowdy when I saw that +pale blue----" + +"Oh, well, blue becomes blondes. You would look like a fright in it. I +didn't care about her clothes, but I did feel that it was all up with us +if she chose to talk, or even to smile, upon the few men that are good +enough to stay out a week in this place. Yet she isn't a beauty; she has +not a good nose, nor a handsome eye, nor even an irreproachable +complexion. It must be her mouth, which is lovely, or her walk--did you +notice her walk? It was just as if she were floating; that is, before +she fell down in that faint. I wonder why she fainted. Nobody was doing +anything, not even her husband. But perhaps that was what troubled her. +I noticed that for some cause he was looking very serious--and when she +had tried to attract his attention two or three times and failed, she +just fell from her chair to the floor. That roused him. He has hardly +left her since." + +"I don't think they look very happy, do you, for so rich and handsome a +couple?" + +"Perhaps he is dissipated. I have noticed that the old gentleman never +leaves them." + +"Well, well, he may be dissipated; handsome men are very apt to be. But +I wouldn't care if----" + +Here the dog gave a yelp and bolted. Miss Butterworth had unconsciously +pinched him, in her indignation, possibly, at the turn these +rattle-pated young ladies' conversation was taking. This made a +diversion, and the young girls moved off, leaving Miss Butterworth +without occupation. But a young man who at that moment crossed her path +gave her enough to think about. + +"You recognize them? There is no mistake?" he whispered. + +"None; the one this way is the young man I saw leave Mr. Adams's house, +and the other is the old gentleman who came in afterward." + +"Mr. Gryce advises you to return home. He is going to arrest the young +man." And Sweetwater passed on. + +Miss Butterworth strolled to a seat and sat down. She felt weak; she +seemed to see that young wife, sick, overwhelmed, struggling with her +great fear, sink under this crushing blow, with no woman near her +capable of affording the least sympathy. The father did not impress her +as being the man to hold up her fainting head or ease her bruised heart. +He had an icy look under his polished exterior which repelled this +keen-eyed spinster, and as she remembered the coldness of his ways, she +felt herself seized by an irresistible impulse to be near this young +creature when the blow fell, if only to ease the tension of her own +heartstrings, which at that moment ached keenly over the part she had +felt herself obliged to play in this matter. + +But when she rose to look for Mr. Gryce, she found him gone; and upon +searching the piazza for the other two gentlemen, she saw them just +vanishing round the corner in the direction of a small smoking-room. As +she could not follow them, she went upstairs, and, meeting a maid in the +upper hall, asked for Mrs. Adams. She was told that Mrs. Adams was sick, +but was shown the door of her room, which was at the end of a long hall. +As all the halls terminated in a window under which a sofa was to be +found, she felt that circumstances were in her favor, and took her seat +upon the sofa before her in a state of great complacency. Instantly a +sweet voice was heard through the open transom of the door behind which +her thoughts were already concentrated. + +"Where is Tom? Oh, where is Tom? Why does he leave me? I'm afraid of +what he may be tempted to do or say down on those great piazzas alone." + +"Mr. Poindexter is with him," answered a voice, measured, but kind. "Mr. +Adams was getting very tired, and your father persuaded him to go down +and have a smoke." + +"I must get up; indeed I must get up. Oh! the camphor--the----" + +There was a bustle; this poor young wife had evidently fainted again. + +Miss Butterworth cast very miserable glances at the door. + +Meanwhile in that small and retired smoking-room a terrible scene was in +progress. The two gentlemen had lit their cigars and were sitting in +certain forced attitudes that evinced their non-enjoyment of the weed +each had taken out of complaisance to the other, when an old man, +strangely serious, strangely at home, yet as strangely a guest of the +house like themselves, came in, and shut the door behind him. + +"Gentlemen," he at once announced, "I am Detective Gryce of the New York +police, and I am here--but I see that one of you at least knows why I am +here." + +One? Both of them! This was evident in a moment. No denial, no +subterfuge was possible. At the first word uttered in the strange, +authoritative tone which old detectives acquire after years of such +experiences, the young man sank down in sudden collapse, while his +companion, without yielding so entirely to his emotions, showed that he +was not insensible to the blow which, in one moment, had brought +destruction to all their hopes. + +When Mr. Gryce saw himself so completely understood, he no longer +hesitated over his duty. Directing his full attention to Mr. Adams, he +said, this time with some feeling, for the misery of this young man had +impressed him: + +"You are wanted in New York by Coroner D----, whose business it is to +hold an inquest over the remains of Mr. Felix Adams, of whose +astonishing death you are undoubtedly informed. As you and your wife +were seen leaving that gentleman's house a few minutes before he +expired, you are naturally regarded as valuable witnesses in determining +whether his death was one of suicide or murder." + +It was an accusation, or so nearly one, that Mr. Gryce was not at all +surprised to behold the dark flush of shame displace the livid terror +which but an instant before had made the man before him look like one of +those lost spirits we sometimes imagine as flitting across the open +mouth of hell. But he said nothing, seemingly had no power to do so, and +his father-in-law was about to make some effort to turn aside this blow +when a voice in the hall outside was heard inquiring for Mr. Adams, +saying that his wife had fainted again and required his help. + +The young husband started, cast a look full of despair at Mr. +Poindexter, and thrusting his hand against the door as if to hold it +shut, sank on his knees before Mr. Gryce, saying: + +"She knows! She suspects! Her nature is so sensitive." + +This he managed to utter in gasps as the detective bent compassionately +over him. "Don't, don't disturb her! She is an angel, a saint from +heaven. Let me bear the blame--he was my brother--let me go with you, +but leave her in ignorance----" + +Mr. Gryce, with a vivid sense of justice, laid his hand on the young +man's arm. + +"Say nothing," he enjoined. "My memory is good, and I would rather hear +nothing from your lips. As for your wife, my warrant does in no way +include her; and if you promise to come with me quietly, I will even let +you bid her adieu, so that you do it in my presence." + +The change which passed over the young man's face at these significant +words was of a nature to surprise Mr. Gryce. Rising slowly, he took his +stand by Mr. Poindexter, who, true to his inflexible nature, had +scarcely moved in limb and feature since Mr. Gryce came in. + +"What have you against me?" he demanded. And there was a surprising ring +to his voice, as if courage had come with the necessity of the moment. +"Of what am I accused? I want you to tell me. I had rather you would +tell me in so many words. I cannot leave in peace until you do." + +Mr. Poindexter made a movement at this, and cast a half-suspicious, +half-warning glance at his son-in-law. But the young man took no notice +of his interference. He kept his eye on the detective, who quietly took +out his warrant. + +At this instant the door shook. + +"Lock it!" was the hoarse command of the accused man. "Don't let any one +pass that door, even if it is to bring the tidings of my wife's death." + +Mr. Gryce reached out his hand, and turned the key in the lock. Young +Adams opened the paper which he had taken from the detective's hand, and +while his blood-shot eyes vainly sought to master the few lines there +written, Mr. Poindexter attracted the attention of Mr. Gryce, and, +fixing him with his eye, formed his lips with three soundless words: + +"For murder? Him?" + +The detective's bow and a very long-drawn sigh from his son-in-law +answered him simultaneously. With a curious lift of his upper lip, which +showed his teeth somewhat unpleasantly for a moment, he drew back a +step, and sank into his previous immobility. + +"I am indebted to you," declared the young man. "Now I know where I +stand. I am quite ready to go with you and stand trial, if such be +deemed necessary by the officials in New York. You," he cried, turning +with almost an air of command to the old gentleman beside him, "will +watch over Eva. Not like a father, sir, but like a mother. You will be +at her side when she wakes, and, if possible, leave her only when she +sleeps. Do not let her suffer--not too much. No newspapers, no gossiping +women. Watch! watch! as I would watch, and when I come back--for I will +come back, will I not?" he appealed to Mr. Gryce, "my prayers will bless +you and----" A sob stuck in his throat, and he turned for a minute +aside; then he took the detective's arm quite calmly and remarked: + +"I do not want to say good-by to my wife. I cannot bear it. I had rather +go straight from here without another glance at her unconscious face. +When I have told my story, for I shall tell it to the first man who asks +me, I may find courage to write her. Meanwhile, get me away as quickly +as you can. Time enough for the world to know my shame to-morrow." + +Mr. Gryce tapped on the window overlooking the piazza. A young man +stepped in. + +"Here is a gentleman," he cried, "who finds himself forced to return in +great haste to New York. See that he gets to the train in time, without +fuss and without raising the least comment. I will follow with his +portmanteau. Mr. Poindexter, you are now at liberty to attend your +suffering daughter." And with a turn of the key, he unlocked the door, +and one of the most painful scenes of his long life was over. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THOMAS EXPLAINS. + + +Mr. Gryce was not above employing a little finesse. He had expressed his +intention of following Mr. Adams, and he did follow him, but so +immediately that he not only took the same train, but sat in the same +car. He wished to note at his leisure the bearing of this young man, who +interested him in quite a different way from what he had anticipated, a +way that vaguely touched his own conscience and made him feel his years +as he had no right to feel them when he had just brought to an end an +intricate and difficult pursuit. + +Seated at a distance, he watched with increasing interest the changes +which passed over his prisoner's handsome countenance. He noted the +calmness which now marked the features he had so lately seen writhing in +deepest agony, and wondered from what source the strength came which +enabled this young man to sit so stoically under the eyes of people from +whose regard, an hour before, he had shrunk with such apparent +suffering. Was it that courage comes with despair? Or was he too +absorbed in his own misery to note the shadow it cast about him? His +brooding brow and vacant eye spoke of a mind withdrawn from present +surroundings. Into what depths of remorse, who could say? Certainly not +this old detective, seasoned though he was by lifelong contact with +criminals, some of them of the same social standing and cultured aspect +as this young man. + +At the station in Brooklyn he rejoined his prisoner, who scarcely looked +up as he approached. In another hour they were at Police Headquarters +and the serious questioning of Mr. Adams had begun. + +He did not attempt to shirk it. Indeed, he seemed anxious to talk. He +had a burden on his mind, and longed to throw it off. But the burden was +not of the exact nature anticipated by the police. He did not +acknowledge having killed his brother, but confessed to having been the +incidental cause of that brother's death. The story he told was this: + +"My name is Cadwalader, not Adams. My father, a Scotchman by birth, was +a naturalized citizen of Pennsylvania, having settled in a place called +Montgomery when a young married man. He had two children then, one of +whom died in early life; the other was my brother Felix, whose violent +death under the name of Adams you have called me here to explain. I am +the fruit of a later marriage, entered into by my father some years +after leaving Montgomery. When I was born he was living in Harrisburg, +but, as he left there shortly after I had reached my third year, I have +no remembrances connected with that city. Indeed, my recollections are +all of very different scenes than this country affords. My mother having +died while I was still an infant, I was sent very early in life to the +Old World, from which my father had originally come. When I returned, +which was not till this very year, I found my father dying, and my +brother a grown man with money--a great deal of money--which I had been +led to think he was ready to share with me. But after my father was laid +away, Felix" (with what effort he uttered that name!) "Felix came to New +York, and I was left to wander about without settled hopes or any +definite promise of means upon which to base a future or start a career. +While wandering, I came upon the town where my father had lived in early +youth, and, hunting up his old friends, I met in the house of one who +had come over from Scotland with my father a young lady" (how his voice +shook, and with what a poignant accent he uttered that beloved name) "in +whom I speedily became interested to the point of wishing to marry her. +But I had no money, no business, no home to give her, and, as I was fain +to acknowledge, no prospects. Still I could not give up the hope of +making her my wife. So I wrote to my brother, Felix Cadwalader, or, +rather, Felix Adams, as he preferred to be called in later years for +family reasons entirely disconnected with the matter of his sudden +demise, and, telling him I had become interested in a young girl of good +family and some wealth, asked him to settle upon me a certain sum which +would enable me to marry her with some feeling of self-respect. My only +answer was a repetition of the vague promise he had thrown out before. +But youth is hopeful, even to daring, and I decided to make her mine +without further parley, in the hope that her beauty and endearing +qualities would win from him, at first view, the definite concession he +had so persistently denied me. + +"This I did, and the fault with which I have most to reproach myself is +that I entered into this alliance without taking her or her father into +my confidence. They thought me well off, possibly rich, and while Mr. +Poindexter is a man of means, I am sure, if he had known I had nothing +but the clothes I wore and the merest trifle in the way of pocket money, +he would have cried halt to the marriage, for he is a very ambitious man +and considers his daughter well worth a millionaire's devotion--as she +is. + +"Felix (you must pardon me if I show no affection for my brother--he was +a very strange man) was notified of my marriage, but did not choose to +witness it, neither did he choose to prohibit it; so it was conducted +quietly, with strangers for witnesses, in a hotel parlor. Then, with +vague hopes, as well as certain vague fears, I prepared to take my young +bride into the presence of my brother, who, hardened as he was by years +of bachelorhood, could not be so entirely impervious to feminine charms +as not to recognize my wife as a woman deserving of every consideration. + +"But I had counted without my host. When, two days after the ceremony +which had made us one, I took her to the house which has since become so +unhappily notorious, I found that my brother had but shown me one facet, +and that the least obdurate, of his many-sided nature. + +"Brilliant as steel, he was as hard, and not only professed himself +unmoved by my wife's many charms, but also as totally out of sympathy +with such follies as love and marriage, which were, he said, the fruit +of unoccupied minds and a pastime wholly unworthy of men boasting of +such talents and attainments as ourselves. Then he turned his back upon +us, and I, moved by an anger little short of frenzy, began an abuse for +which he was so little prepared that he crouched like a man under blows, +and, losing minute by minute his self-control, finally caught up a +dagger lying close at hand, and crying, 'You want my money? Well, then, +take it!' stabbed himself to the heart with one desperate blow. + +"I fear I shall not be believed, but that is the story of this crime, +gentlemen." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +DESPAIR. + + +Was it? Tragedies as unpremeditated as this had doubtless occurred, and +inconsistencies in character shown themselves in similar impetuosities, +from the beginning of time up till now. Yet there was not a man present, +with or without the memory of Bartow's pantomime, which, as you will +recall, did not tally at all with this account of Mr. Adams's violent +end, who did not show in a greater or less degree his distrust and +evident disbelief in this tale, poured out with such volubility before +them. + +The young man, gifted as he was with the keenest susceptibilities, +perceived this, and his head drooped. + +"I shall add nothing to and take nothing from what I have said," was his +dogged remark. "Make of it what you will." + +The inspector who was conducting the inquiry glanced dubiously at Mr. +Gryce as these words left Thomas Adams's lips; whereupon the detective +said: + +"We are sorry you have taken such a resolution. There are many things +yet left to be explained, Mr. Adams; for instance, why, if your brother +slew himself in this unforeseen manner, you left the house so +precipitately, without giving an alarm or even proclaiming your +relationship to him?" + +"You need not answer, you know," the inspector's voice broke in. "No man +is called upon to incriminate himself in this free and independent +country." + +A smile, the saddest ever seen, wandered for a minute over the +prisoner's pallid lips. Then he lifted his head and replied with a +certain air of desperation: + +"Incrimination is not what I fear now. From the way you all look at me I +perceive that I am lost, for I have no means of proving my story." + +This acknowledgment, which might pass for the despairing cry of an +innocent man, made his interrogator stare. + +"You forget," suggested that gentleman, "that you had your wife with +you. She can corroborate your words, and will prove herself, no doubt, +an invaluable witness in your favor." + +"My wife!" he repeated, choking so that his words could be barely +understood. "Must she be dragged into this--so sick, so weak a woman? It +would kill her, sir. She loves me--she----" + +"Was she with you in Mr. Adams's study? Did she see him lift the dagger +against his own breast?" + +"No." And with this denial the young man seemed to take new courage. +"She had fainted several moments previously, while the altercation +between my brother and myself was at its height. She did not see the +final act, and--gentlemen, I might as well speak the truth (I have +nothing to gain by silence), she finds it as difficult as you do to +believe that Mr. Adams struck himself. I--I have tried with all my arts +to impress the truth upon her, but oh, what can I hope from the world +when the wife of my bosom--an angel, too, who loves me--oh, sirs, she +can never be a witness for me; she is too conscientious, too true to her +own convictions. I should lose--she would die----" + +Mr. Gryce tried to stop him; he would not be stopped. + +"Spare me, sirs! Spare my wife! Write me down guilty, anything you +please, rather than force that young creature to speak----" + +Here the inspector cut short these appeals which were rending every +heart present. "Have you read the newspapers for the last few days?" he +asked. + +"I? Yes, yes, sir. How could I help it? Blood is blood; the man was my +brother; I had left him dying--I was naturally anxious, naturally saw my +own danger, and I read them, of course." + +"Then you know he was found with a large cross on his breast, a cross +which was once on the wall. How came it to be torn down? Who put it on +his bosom?" + +"I, sir. I am not a Catholic but Felix was, and seeing him dying without +absolution, without extreme unction, I thought of the holy cross, and +tore down the only one I saw, and placed it in his arms." + +"A pious act. Did he recognize it?" + +"I cannot say. I had my fainting wife to look after. She occupied all my +thoughts." + +"I see, and you carried her out and were so absorbed in caring for her +you did not observe Mr. Adams's valet----" + +"He's innocent, sir. Whatever people may think, he had nothing to do +with this crime----" + +"You did not observe him, I say, standing in the doorway and watching +you?" + +Now the inspector knew that Bartow had not been standing there, but at +the loophole above; but the opportunity for entrapping the witness was +too good to lose. + +Mr. Adams was caught in the trap, or so one might judge from the beads +of perspiration which at that moment showed themselves on his pale +forehead. But he struggled to maintain the stand he had taken, crying +hotly: + +"But that man is crazy, and deaf-and-dumb besides! or so the papers give +out. Surely his testimony is valueless. You would not confront me with +him?" + +"We confront you with no one. We only asked you a question. You did not +observe the valet, then?" + +"No, sir." + +"Or understand the mystery of the colored lights?" + +"No, sir." + +"Or of the plate of steel and the other contrivances with which your +brother enlivened his solitude?" + +"I do not follow you, sir." But there was a change in his tone. + +"I see," said the inspector, "that the complications which have +disturbed us and made necessary this long delay in the collection of +testimony have not entered into the crime as described by you. Now this +is possible; but there is still a circumstance requiring explanation; a +little circumstance, which is, nevertheless, one of importance, since +your wife mentioned it to you as soon as she became conscious. I allude +to the half dozen or more words which were written by your brother +immediately preceding his death. The paper on which they were written +has been found, and that it was a factor in your quarrel is evident, +since she regretted that it had been left behind you, and he--Do you +know where we found this paper?" + +The eyes which young Adams raised at this interrogatory had no +intelligence in them. The sight of this morsel of paper seemed to have +deprived him in an instant of all the faculties with which he had been +carrying on this unequal struggle. He shook his head, tried to reach out +his hand, but failed to grasp the scrap of paper which the inspector +held out. Then he burst into a loud cry: + +"Enough! I cannot hold out, with no other support than a wicked lie. I +killed my brother for reasons good as any man ever had for killing +another. But I shall not impart them. I would rather be tried for murder +and hanged." + +It was a complete breakdown, pitiful from its contrast with the man's +herculean physique and fine, if contracted, features. If the end, it was +a sad end, and Mr. Gryce, whose forehead had taken on a deep line +between the eyebrows, slowly rose and took his stand by the young man, +who looked ready to fall. The inspector, on the contrary, did not move. +He had begun a tattoo with his fingers on the table, and seemed bound to +beat it out, when another sudden cry broke from the young man's lips: + +"What is that?" he demanded, with his eyes fixed on the door, and his +whole frame shaking violently. + +"Nothing," began the inspector, when the door suddenly opened and the +figure of a woman white as a wraith and wonderful with a sort of holy +passion darted from the grasp of a man who sought to detain her, and +stood before them, palpitating with a protest which for a moment she +seemed powerless to utter. + +It was Adams's young, invalid wife, whom he had left three hours before +at Belleville. She was so frail of form, so exquisite of feature, that +she would have seemed some unearthly visitant but for the human anguish +which pervaded her look and soon found vent in this touching cry: + +"What is he saying? Oh, I know well what he is saying. He is saying that +he killed his brother, that he held the dagger which rid the world of a +monster of whose wickedness none knew. But you must not heed him. Indeed +you must not heed him. He is innocent; I, his wife, have come twenty +miles, from a bed of weakness and suffering, to tell you so. He----" + +But here a hand was laid gently, but firmly on her mouth. She looked up, +met her husband's eyes filled with almost frantic appeal, and giving him +a look in return that sank into the heart of every man who beheld it, +laid her own hand on his and drew it softly away. + +"It is too late, Tom, I must speak. My father, my own weakness, or your +own peremptory commands could not keep me at Belleville when I knew you +had been brought here. And shall I stop now, in the presence of these +men who have heard your words and may believe them? No, that would be a +cowardice unworthy of our love and the true lives we hope to lead +together. Sirs!" and each man there held his breath to catch the words +which came in faint and fainter intonation from her lips, "I know my +husband to be innocent, because the hand that held the dagger was mine. +I killed Felix Cadwalader!" + + * * * * * + +The horror of such a moment is never fully realized till afterward. Not +a man there moved, not even her husband, yet on every cheek a slow +pallor was forming, which testified to the effect of such words from +lips made for smiles and showing in every curve the habit of gentle +thought and the loftiest instincts. Not till some one cried out from the +doorway, "Catch her! she is falling!" did any one stir or release the +pent-up breath which awe and astonishment had hitherto held back on +every lip. Then he in whose evident despair all could read the real +cause of the great dread which had drawn him into a false confession, +sprang forward, and with renewed life showing itself in every feature, +caught her in his arms. As he staggered with her to a sofa and laid her +softly down, he seemed another man in look and bearing; and Mr. Gryce, +who had been watching the whole wonderful event with the strongest +interest, understood at once the meaning of the change which had come +over his prisoner at that point in his memorable arrest when he first +realized that it was for himself they had come, and not for the really +guilty person, the idolized object of his affections. + +Meanwhile, he was facing them all, with one hand laid tenderly on that +unconscious head. + +"Do not think," he cried, "that because this young girl has steeped her +hand in blood, she is a wicked woman. There is no purer heart on earth +than hers, and none more worthy of the worship of a true man. See! she +killed my brother, son of my father, beloved by my mother, yet I can +kiss her hand, kiss her forehead, her eyes, her feet, not because I hate +him, but because I worship her, the purest--the best----" He left her, +and came and stood before those astonished men. "Sirs!" he cried, "I +must ask you to listen to a strange, a terrible tale." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +MEMORANDA. + + +"It is like and unlike what I have just related to you," began young +Adams. "In my previous confession I mixed truth and falsehood, and to +explain myself fully and to help you to a right understanding of my +wife's act, I shall have to start afresh and speak as if I had already +told you nothing." + +"Wait!" cried Mr. Gryce, in an authoritative manner. "We will listen to +you presently;" and, leaning over the inspector, he whispered a few +words, after which he took out a pencil and jotted down certain +sentences, which he handed over to this gentleman. + +As they had the appearance of a memorandum, and as the inspector glanced +more than once at them while Mr. Adams (or Cadwalader, as he should now +rightfully be called) was proceeding with his story, I will present them +to you as written. + +Points to be made clear by Mr. Adams in his account of this crime: + +1. Why a woman who was calm enough to stop and arrange her hair during +the beginning of an interview should be wrought up to such a pitch of +frenzy and exasperation before it was over as to kill with her own hand +a man against whom she had evidently no previous grudge. (Remember the +comb found on the floor of Mr. Adams's bedroom.) + +2. What was the meaning of the following words, written just previous to +this interview by the man thus killed: "I return you your daughter. +Neither you nor she shall ever see me again. Remember Evelyn!" + +3. Why was the pronoun "I" used in this communication? What position did +Mr. Felix Adams hold toward this young girl qualifying him to make use +of such language after her marriage to his brother? + +4. And having used it, why did he, upon being attacked by her, attempt +to swallow the paper upon which he had written these words, actually +dying with it clinched between his teeth? + +5. If he was killed in anger and died as monsters do (her own word), why +did his face show sorrow rather than hate, and a determination as far as +possible removed from the rush of over-whelming emotions likely to follow +the reception of a mortal blow from the hand of an unexpected +antagonist? + +6. Why, if he had strength to seize the above-mentioned paper and convey +it to his lips, did he not use that strength in turning on a light +calculated to bring him assistance, instead of leaving blazing the +crimson glow which, according to the code of signals as now understood +by us, means: "Nothing more required just now. Keep away." + +7. What was the meaning of the huge steel plate found between the +casings of the doorway, and why did it remain at rest within its socket +at this, the culminating moment of his life? + +8. An explanation of how old Poindexter came to appear on the scene so +soon after the event. His words as overheard were: "It is Amos's son, +not Amos!" Did he not know whom he was to meet in this house? Was the +condition of the man lying before him with a cross on his bosom and a +dagger in his heart less of a surprise to him than the personality of +the victim? + +9. Remember the conclusions we have drawn from Bartow's pantomime. Mr. +Adams was killed by a left-handed thrust. Watch for an acknowledgment +that the young woman is left-handed, and do not forget that an +explanation is due why for so long a time she held her other arm +stretched out behind her. + +10. Why did the bird whose chief cry is "Remember Evelyn!" sometimes +vary it with "Poor Eva! Lovely Eva! Who would strike Eva?" The story of +this tragedy, to be true, must show that Mr. Adams knew his brother's +bride both long and well. + +11. If Bartow is, as we think, innocent of all connection with this +crime save as witness, why does he show such joy at its result? This may +not reasonably be expected to fall within the scope of Thomas Adams's +confession, but it should not be ignored by us. This deaf-and-dumb +servitor was driven mad by a fact which caused him joy. Why? + +12. Notice the following schedule. It has been drawn up after repeated +experiments with Bartow and the various slides of the strange lamp which +cause so many different lights to shine out in Mr. Adams's study: + + White light--Water wanted. + Green light--Overcoat and hat to be brought. + Blue light--Put back books on shelves. + Violet light--Arrange study for the night. + Yellow light--Watch for next light. + Red light--Nothing wanted; stay away. + +The last was on at the final scene. Note if this fact can be explained +by Mr. Adams's account of the same. + +With these points in our mind, let us peruse the history of this crime +and of the remote and possibly complicated causes which led to it. + + + + +BOOK II + +REMEMBER EVELYN + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE SECRET OF THE CADWALADERS. + + +Thomas Cadwalader suggested rather than told his story. We dare not +imitate him in this, nor would it be just to your interest to relate +these facts with all the baldness and lack of detail imposed upon this +unhappy man by the hurry and anxiety of the occasion. Remarkable +tragedies have their birth in remarkable facts, and as such facts are +but the outcome of human passions, we must enter into those passions if +we would understand either the facts or their appalling consequences. In +this case, the first link of the chain which led to Felix Adams's +violent death was forged before the birth of the woman who struck him. +We must begin, then, with almost forgotten days, and tell the story, as +her pleader did, from the standpoint of Felix and Thomas Cadwalader. + +Thomas Cadwalader--now called Adams--never knew his mother; she died in +his early infancy. Nor could he be said to have known his father, having +been brought up in France by an old Scotch lawyer, who, being related to +his mother, sometimes spoke of her, but never of his father, till Thomas +had reached his fifteenth year. Then he put certain books into his +hands, with this remarkable injunction: + +"Here are romances, Thomas. Read them; but remember that none of them, +no matter how thrilling in matter or effect, will ever equal the story +of your father's bitterly wronged and suffering life." + +"My father!" he cried; "tell me about him; I have never heard." + +But his guardian, satisfied with an allusion which he knew must bear +fruit in the extremely susceptible nature of this isolated boy, said no +more that day, and Thomas turned to the books. But nothing after that +could ever take his mind away from his father. He had scarcely thought +of him for years, but now that that father had been placed before him in +the light of a wronged man, he found himself continually hunting back in +the deepest recesses of his memory for some long-forgotten recollection +of that father's features calculated to restore his image to his eyes. +Sometimes he succeeded in this, or thought he did; but this image, if +image it was, was so speedily lost in a sensation of something strange +and awe-compelling enveloping it, that he found himself more absorbed by +the intangible impressions associated with this memory than by the +memory itself. What were these impressions, and in what had they +originated? In vain he tried to determine. They were as vague as they +were persistent. A stretch of darkness--two bars of orange light, always +shining, always the same--black lines against these bars, like the tops +of distant gables--an inner thrill--a vague affright--a rush about him +as of a swooping wind--all this came with his father's image, only to +fade away with it, leaving him troubled, uneasy, and perplexed. Finding +these impressions persistent, and receiving no explanation of them in +his own mind, he finally asked his guardian what they meant. But that +guardian was as ignorant as himself on this topic; and satisfied with +having roused the boy's imagination, confined himself to hints, dropped +now and then with a judiciousness which proved the existence of a +deliberate purpose, of some duty which awaited him on the other side of +the water, a duty which would explain his long exile from his only +parent and for which he must fit himself by study and the acquirement of +such accomplishments as render a young man a positive power in society, +whether that society be of the Old World or the New. He showed his +shrewdness in thus dealing with this pliable and deeply affectionate +nature. From this time forth Thomas felt himself leading a life of +mystery and interest. + +To feel himself appointed for a work whose unknown character only +heightened its importance gave point to every effort now made by this +young man, and lent to his studies that vague touch of romance which +made them a delight, and him an adept in many things he might otherwise +have cared little about. At eighteen he was a graduate from the +Sorbonne, and a musical virtuoso as well. He could fence, ride, and +carry off the prize in games requiring physical prowess as well as +mental fitness. He was, in fact, a prodigy in many ways, and was so +considered by his fellow-students. He, however, was not perfect; he +lacked social charm, and in so far failed of being the complete +gentleman. This he was made to realize in the following way: + +One morning his guardian came to him with a letter from his father, in +which, together with some words of commendation for his present +attainments, that father expressed a certain dissatisfaction with his +general manner as being too abrupt and self-satisfied with those of his +own sex, and much too timid and deprecatory with those of the other. +Thomas felt the criticism and recognized its justice; but how had his +father, proved by his letter to be no longer a myth, become acquainted +with defects which Thomas instinctively felt could never have attracted +the attention of his far from polished guardian? + +His questions on this point elicited a response that confounded him. He +was not the only son of his father; he had a brother living, and this +brother, older than himself by some twenty years or more, had just been +in Paris, where, in all probability, he had met him, talked with him, +and perhaps pressed his hand. + +It was a discovery calculated to deepen the impression already made upon +Thomas's mind. Only a purpose of the greatest importance could account +for so much mystery. What could it be? What was he destined to do or say +or be? He was not told, but while awaiting enlightenment he was resolved +not to be a disappointment to the two anxious souls who watched his +career so eagerly and exacted from him such perfection. He consequently +moderated his manner, and during the following year acquired by constant +association with the gilded youth about him that indescribable charm of +the perfect gentleman which he was led to believe would alone meet with +the approval of those he now felt bound to please. At the end of the +year he found himself a finished man of the world. How truly so, he +began to realize when he noted the blush with which his presence was +hailed by women and the respect shown him by men of his own stamp. In +the midst of the satisfaction thus experienced his guardian paid him a +final visit. + +"You are now ready," said he, "for your father's summons. It will come +in a few weeks. Be careful, then. Form no ties you cannot readily break; +for, once recalled from France, you are not likely to return here. What +your father's purpose concerning you may be I do not know, but it is no +ordinary one. You will have money, a well-appointed home, family +affection, all that you have hitherto craved in vain, and in return you +will carry solace to a heart which has awaited your healing touch for +twenty years. So much I am ordered to say; the rest you will hear from +your father's own lips." + +Aroused, encouraged, animated by the wildest hopes, the most extravagant +anticipations, Thomas awaited his father's call with feverish +impatience, and when it came, hastened to respond to it by an immediate +voyage to America. This was some six months previous to the tragedy in +---- Street. On his arrival at the wharf in New York he was met, not by +his brother, as he had every reason to expect, but by a messenger in +whose face evil tidings were apparent before he spoke. Thomas was soon +made acquainted with them. His father, who he now learned was called +Cadwalader (he himself had always been called Adams), was ill, possibly +dying. He must therefore hasten, and, being provided with minute +instructions as to his way, took the train at once for a small village +in northern Pennsylvania. + +All that followed was a dream to him. He was hurried through the night, +with the motion of the ship still in his blood, to meet--what? He dared +not think. He swam in a veritable nightmare. Then came a stop, a +hurrying from the train, a halt on a platform reeking with rain (for the +night was stormy), a call from some one to hurry, the sight of a panting +horse steaming under a lamp whose blowing flame he often woke in after +nights to see, a push from a persuasive hand, then a ride over a country +road the darkness of which seemed impenetrable, and, finally, the +startling vision of an open door, with a Meg Merrilies of a woman +standing in it, holding a flaming candle in her hand. The candle went +out while he looked at it, and left only a voice to guide him--a voice +which, in tones shaken by chill or feeling, he could not tell which, +cried eagerly: + +"Is that you, laddie? Come awa in. Come awa in. Dinna heed the rain. The +maister's been crying on you a' day. I'm glad you're no ower late." + +He got down, followed the voice, and, stumbling up a step or two, +entered a narrow door, which was with difficulty held open behind him, +and which swung to with a loud noise the minute he crossed the +threshold. This or the dreariness of the place in which he found himself +disturbed him greatly. Bare floors, stained walls, meagre doorways, and +a common pine staircase, lighted only by the miserable candle which the +old woman had relit--were these the appointments of the palatial home he +had been led to expect? These the surroundings, this the abode of him +who had exacted such perfection on his part, and to satisfy whose +standard he had devoted years of hourly, daily effort, in every +department of art and science? A sickening revolt seized him, aggravated +by the smiles of the old woman, who dipped and courtesied before him in +senile delight. She may have divined his feelings, for, drawing him +inside, she relieved him of his overcoat, crying all the while, with an +extravagant welcome more repulsive than all the rest: + +"O the fine laddie! Wad your puir mither could see you the noo! Bonnie +and clever! No your faither's bairn ava! All mither, laddie, all +mither!" + +The room was no better than the hall. + +"Where is my father?" he asked, authoritatively, striving to keep down +his strong repugnance. + +"Dinna ye hear him? He's crying on ye. Puir man, he's wearying to see +ye." + +Hear him? He could scarcely hear her. The driving rain, the swish of +some great boughs against the house, the rattling of casements and +doors, and the shrieking of wind in the chimney made all other sounds +wellnigh inaudible. Yet as he listened he seemed to catch the accents of +a far-off voice calling, now wistfully, now imperatively, "Thomas! +Thomas!" And, thrilled with an emotion almost superstitious in its +intensity, he moved hastily toward the staircase. + +But the old woman was there before him. "Na! Na!" she cried. "Come in by +and eat something first." + +But Thomas shook his head. It seemed to him at that moment as if he +never could eat or sleep again, the disillusion was so bitter, his +disappointment so keen. + +"You will na? Then haste ye--haste ye. But it's a peety you wadna ha'e +eaten something. Ye'll need it, laddie; ye'll need it." + +"Thomas! Thomas!" wailed the voice. + +He tore himself away. He forced himself to go upstairs, following the +cry, which at every moment grew louder. At the top he cast a final +glance below. The old woman stood at the stair-foot, shading the candle +from the draught with a hand that shook with something more than age. +She was gazing after him in vague affright, and with the shadow of this +fear darkening her weazen face, formed a picture from which he was glad +to escape. + +Plunging on, he found himself before a window whose small panes dripped +and groaned under a rain that was fast becoming a torrent. Chilled by +the sight, he turned toward the door faintly outlined beside it, and in +the semi-darkness seized an old-fashioned latch rattling in the wind +that permeated every passageway, and softly raised it. + +Instantly the door fell back, and two eyes blazing with fever and that +fire of the soul of which fever is the mere physical symbol greeted him +from the midst of a huge bed drawn up against the opposite wall. Then +two arms rose, and the moaning cry of "Thomas! Thomas!" changed to a +shout, and he knew himself to be in the presence of his father. + +Falling on his knees in speechless emotion, he grasped the wasted hands +held out to him. Such a face, rugged though it was and far from +fulfilling the promise held out to him in his dreams, could not but move +any man. As he gazed into it and pressed the hands in which the life +blood only seemed to linger for this last, this only embrace, all his +filial instincts were aroused and he forgot the common surroundings, the +depressing rain, his own fatigue and bitter disappointment, in his +lifelong craving for love and family recognition. + +But the old man on whose breast he fell showed other emotions than those +by which he was himself actuated. It was not an embrace he craved, but +an opportunity to satisfy an almost frenzied curiosity as to the +appearance and attributes of the son who had grown to manhood under +other eyes. Pushing him gently back, he bade him stand in the light of +the lamp burning on a small pine table, and surveyed him, as it were, +from the verge of his own fast failing life, with moans of mingled pain +and weariness, amid which Thomas thought he heard the accents of a +supreme satisfaction. + +Meanwhile in Thomas himself, as he stood there, the sense of complete +desolation filled his breast almost to bursting. To have come home for +this! To find a father only to be weighed in the scales of that father's +judgment! To be admired, instead of loved! + +As he realized his position and listened to the shrieking of the wind +and rain, he felt that the wail of the elements but echoed the cry of +his own affections, thus strangled in their birth. Indeed the sensations +of that moment made so deep an impression upon him that he was never +afterward able to hear a furious gust of wind or rain without the +picture rising up before him of this great hollow room, with the +trembling figure of his father struggling in the grasp of death and +holding it at bay, while he gauged with worldly wisdom the physical, +mental, and moral advantages of the son so long banished and so lately +restored to his arms. + +A rush of impetuous words followed by the collapse of his father's form +upon the pillow showed that the examination was over. Rushing forward, +he grasped again that father's hands, but soon shrank back, stunned by +what he heard and the prospect it opened before him. A few of his +father's words will interpret the rest. They came in a flood, and among +others Thomas caught these: + +"The grace of God be thanked! Our efforts have not failed. Handsome, +strong, noble in look and character, we could ask nothing more, hope for +nothing more. My revenge will succeed! John Poindexter will find that he +has a heart, and that that heart can be wrung. I do not need to live to +see it. For me it exists now; it exists here!" And he struck his breast +with hands that seemed to have reserved their last strength for this +supreme gesture. + +John Poindexter! Who was he? It was a new name to Thomas. Venturing to +say so, he reeled under the look he received from his father's eyes. + +"You do not know who John Poindexter is, and what he has done to me and +mine? They have kept their promise well, too well, but God will accord +me strength to tell you what has been left unsaid by them. He would not +bring me up to this hour to let me perish before you have heard the +story destined to make you the avenger of innocence upon that enemy of +your race. Listen, Thomas. With the hand of death encircling my heart, I +speak, and if the story find you cold--But it will not. Your name is +Cadwalader, and it will not." + +Constrained by passions such as he had never imagined even in dreams, +Thomas fell upon his knees. He could not listen otherwise. His father, +gasping for breath, fixed him with his hollow eyes, in which the last +flickering flames of life flared up in fitful brightness. + +"Thomas"--the pause was brief--"you are not my only child." + +"I know it," fell from Thomas's white lips. "I have a brother; his name +is Felix." + +The father shook his head with a look suggestive of impatience. + +"Not him! Not him!" he cried. "A sister! a sister, who died before you +were born--beautiful, good, with a voice like an angel's and a +heart--she should be standing by my side to-day, and she would have been +if--if he--but none of that. I have no breath to waste. Facts, facts, +just facts! Afterward may come emotions, hatred, denunciation, not now. +This is my story, Thomas. + +"John Poindexter and I were friends. From boyhood we shared each other's +bed, food, and pleasures, and when he came to seek his fortune in +America I accompanied him. He was an able man, but cold. I was of an +affectionate nature, but without any business capacity. As proof of +this, in fifteen years he was rich, esteemed, the master of a fine +house, and the owner of half a dozen horses; while I was the same nobody +I had been at first, or would have been had not Providence given me two +beautiful children and blessed, or rather cursed, me with the friendship +of this prosperous man. When Felix was fourteen and Evelyn three years +older, their mother died. Soon after, the little money I had vanished in +an unfortunate enterprise, and life began to promise ill, both for +myself and for my growing children. John Poindexter, who was honest +enough then, or let me hope so, and who had no children of his own, +though he had been long married, offered to take one of mine to educate. +But I did not consent to this till the war of the rebellion broke out; +then I sent him both son and daughter, and went into the army. For four +years I fought for the flag, suffering all that a man can suffer and +live, and being at last released from Libby Prison, came home with a +heart full of gratitude and with every affection keyed up by a long +series of unspeakable experiences, to greet my son and clasp once more +within my wasted arms the idolized form of my deeply loved daughter. +What did I find? A funeral in the streets--hers--and Felix, your +brother, walking like a guard between her speechless corpse and the man +under whose protection I had placed her youth and innocence. + +"Betrayed!" shrieked the now frenzied parent, rising on his pillow. "Her +innocence! Her sweetness! And he, cold as the stone we laid upon her +grave, had seen her perish with the anguish and shame of it, without a +sign of grief or a word of contrition." + +"O God!" burst from lips the old man was watching with frenzied cunning. + +"Ay, God!" repeated the father, shaking his head as if in defiance +before he fell back on his pillow. "He allowed it and I--But this does +not tell the story. I must keep to facts as Felix did--Felix, who was +but fifteen years old and yet found himself the only confidant and +solace of this young girl betrayed by her protector. It was after her +burial----" + +"Cease!" cried a voice, smooth, fresh, and yet strangely commanding, +from over Thomas's shoulder. "Let me tell the rest. No man can tell the +rest as I can." + +"Felix!" ejaculated Amos Cadwalader below his breath. + +"Felix!" repeated Thomas, shaken to his very heart by this new presence. +But when he sought to rise, to turn, he felt the pressure of a hand on +his shoulder and heard that voice again, saying softly, but +peremptorily: + +"Wait! Wait till you hear what I have to say. Think not of me, think +only of her. It is she you are called upon to avenge; your sister, +Evelyn." + +Thomas yielded to him as he had to his father. He sank down beneath that +insistent hand, and his brother took up the tale. + +"Evelyn had a voice like a bird. In those days before father's return, +she used to fill old John Poindexter's house with melody. I, who, as a +boy, was studious, rather than artistic, thought she sang too much for a +girl whose father was rotting away in a Southern prison. But when about +to rebuke her, I remembered Edward Kissam, and was silent. For it was +his love which made her glad, and to him I wished every happiness, for +he was good, and honest, and kind to me. She was eighteen then, and +beautiful, or so I was bound to believe, since every man looked at her, +even old John Poindexter, though he never looked at any other woman, not +even his own wife. And she was good, too, and pure, I swear, for her +blue eyes never faltered in looking into mine until one day when--my +God! how well I remember it!--they not only faltered, but shrank before +me in such terror, that, boy though I was, I knew that something +terrible, something unprecedented had happened, and thinking my one +thought, I asked if she had received bad news from father. Her answer +was a horrified moan, but it might have been a shriek. 'Our father! Pray +God we may never see him or hear from him again. If you love him, if you +love me, pray he may die in prison rather than return here to see me as +I am now.' + +"I thought she had gone mad, and perhaps she had for a moment; for at my +look of startled distress a change took place in her. She remembered my +youth, and laughing, or trying to laugh away her frenzy, uttered some +hurried words I failed to understand, and then, sinking at my knee, laid +her head against my side, crying that she was not well; that she had +experienced for a long time secret pains and great inward distress, and +that she sometimes feared she was not going to live long, for all her +songs and merry ways and seeming health and spirits. + +"'Not live, Evelyn?' It was an inconceivable thought to me, a boy. I +looked at her, and seeing how pale, how incomprehensibly pale she was, +my heart failed me, for nothing but mortal sickness could make such a +change in any one in a week, in a day. Yet how could death reach her, +loved as she was by Edward, by her father, and by me. Thinking to rouse +her, I spoke the former's name. But it was the last word I should have +uttered. Crouching as if I had given her a blow, she put her two hands +out, shrieking faintly: 'Not that! Never that! Do not speak his name. +Let me never hear of him or see him again. I am dead--do you not +understand me?--dead to all the world from this day--except to you!' she +suddenly sobbed, 'except to you!' And still I did not comprehend her. +But when I understood, as I soon did, that no mention was to be made of +her illness; that her door was to be shut and no one allowed to enter, +not even Mrs. Poindexter or her guardian--least of all, her guardian--I +began to catch the first intimation of that horror which was to end my +youth and fill my whole after life with but one thought--revenge. But I +said nothing, only watched and waited. Seeing that she was really ill, I +constituted myself her nurse, and sat by her night and day till her +symptoms became so alarming that the whole household was aroused and we +could no longer keep the doctor from her. Then I sat at her door, and +with one ear turned to catch her lightest moan, listened for the step +she most dreaded, but which, though it sometimes approached, never +passed the opening of the hall leading to her chamber. For one whole +week I sat there, watching her life go slowly out like a flame, with +nothing to feed it; then as the great shadow fell, and life seemed +breaking up within me, I dashed from the place, and confronting him +where I found him walking, pale and disturbed, in his own hall, told him +that my father was coming; that I had had a dream, and in that dream I +had seen my father with his face turned toward this place. Was he +prepared to meet him? Had he an answer ready when Amos Cadwalader should +ask him what had become of his child? + +"I had meant to shock the truth from this man, and I did so. As I +mentioned my father's name, Poindexter blanched, and my fears became +certainty. Dropping my youthful manner, for I was a boy no longer, I +flung his crime in his face, and begged him to deny it if he could. He +could not, but he did what neither he nor any other man could do in my +presence now and live--he smiled. Then when he saw me crouching for a +spring--for, young as I was, I knew but one impulse, and that was to fly +at his throat--he put out his powerful hand, and pinning me to the +ground, uttered a few short sentences in my ear. + +"They were terrible ones. They made me see that nothing I might then do +could obliterate the fact that she was lost if the world knew what I +knew, or even so much as suspected it; that any betrayal on my part or +act of contrition on his would only pile the earth on her innocent +breast and sink her deeper and deeper into the grave she was then +digging for herself; that all dreams were falsities; that Southern +prisons seldom gave up their victims alive; and that if my father should +escape the jaws of Libby and return, it was for me to be glad if he +found a quiet grave instead of a dishonored daughter. Further, that if I +crossed him, who was power itself, by any boyish exhibition of hate, I +would find that any odium I might invoke would fall on her and not on +him, making me an abhorrence, not only to the world at large, but to the +very father in whose interest I might pretend to act. + +"I was young and without worldly experience. I yielded to these +arguments, but I cursed him where he stood. With his hand pressing +heavily upon me, I cursed him to his face; then I went back to my +sister. + +"Had she, by some supernatural power, listened to our talk, or had she +really been visited by some dream, that she looked so changed? There was +a feverish light in her eye, and something like the shadow of a smile on +her lips. Mrs. Poindexter was with her; Mrs. Poindexter, whose face was +a mask we never tried to penetrate. But when she had left us alone +again, then Evelyn spoke, and I saw what her dream had been. + +"'Felix,' she cried as I approached her trembling with my own emotions +and half afraid of hers, 'there is still one hope for me. It has come to +me while you have been away. Edward--he loves me--did--perhaps he would +forgive. If he would take me into his protection (I see you know it all, +Felix) then I might grow happy again--well--strong--good. Do you +think--oh, you are a child, what do you know?--but--but before I turn my +face forever to the wall try if he will see me--try, try--with your +boy's wit--your clever schemes, to get him here unknown to--to--the one +I fear, I hate--and then, then, if he bids me live, I will live, and if +he bids me die, I will die; and all will be ended.' + +"I was an ignorant boy. I knew men no more than I knew women, and +yielding to her importunities, I promised to see Edward and plan for an +interview without her guardian's knowledge. I was, as Evelyn had said, +keen in those days and full of resources, and I easily managed it. +Edward, who had watched from the garden as I had from the door, was +easily persuaded to climb her lattice in search of what he had every +reason to believe would be his last earthly interview with his darling. +As his eager form bounded into the room I tottered forth, carrying with +me a vision of her face as she rose to meet--what? I dared not think or +attempt to foresee. Falling on my knees I waited the issue. Alas! It was +a speedy one. A stifled moan from her, the sound of a hoarse farewell +from him, told me that his love had failed her, and that her doom was +sealed. Creeping back to her side as quickly as my failing courage +admitted, I found her face turned to the wall, from which it never again +looked back; while presently, before the hour was passed, shouts ringing +through the town proclaimed that young Kissam had shot himself. She +heard, and died that night. In her last hour she had fancies. She +thought she saw her father, and her prayers for mercy were +heart-rending. Then she thought she saw him, that demon, her +executioner, and cringed and moaned against the wall. + +"But enough of this. Two days after, I walked between him and her silent +figure outstretched for burial. I had promised that no eye but mine +should look upon her, no other hand touch her, and I kept my word, even +when the impossible happened and her father rose up in the street before +us. Quietly, and in honor, she was carried to her grave, and then--then, +in the solitude of the retreat I had found for him, I told our father +all, and why I had denied him the only comfort which seemed left to +him--a last look at his darling daughter's face." + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE OATH. + + +A sigh from the panting breast of Amos Cadwalader followed these words. +Plainer than speech it told of a grief still fresh and an agony still +unappeased, though thirty years had passed away since the unhappy hour +of which Felix spoke. + +Felix, echoing it, went quickly on: + +"It was dusk when I told my story, and from dark to dawn we sat with +eyes fixed on each other's face, without sleep and without rest. Then we +sought John Poindexter. + +"Had he shunned us we might have had mercy, but he met us openly, +quietly, and with all the indifference of one who cannot measure +feeling, because he is incapable of experiencing it himself. His first +sentence evinced this. 'Spare yourselves, spare me all useless +recriminations. The girl is dead; I cannot call her back again. Enjoy +your life, your eating and your drinking, your getting and your +spending; it is but for a few more years at best. Why harp on old +'griefs?' His last word was a triumph. 'When a man cares for nothing or +nobody, it is useless to curse him.' + +"Ah, that was it! That was the secret of his power. He cared for nothing +and for no one, not even for himself. We felt the blow, and bent under +it. But before leaving him and the town, we swore, your father and I, +that we would yet make that cold heart feel; that some day, in some way, +we would cause that impassive nature to suffer as he had made us suffer, +however happy he might seem or however closely his prosperity might +cling to him. That was thirty years ago, and that oath has not yet been +fulfilled." + +Felix paused. Thomas lifted his head, but the old man would not let him +speak. "There are men who forget in a month, others who forget in a +year. I have never forgotten, nor has Felix here. When you were born (I +had married again, in the hope of renewed joy) I felt, I know not why, +that Evelyn's avenger was come. And when, a year or so after this event, +we heard that God had forgotten John Poindexter's sins, or, perhaps, +remembered them, and that a child was given him also, after eighteen +years of married life, I looked upon your bonny face and saw--or thought +I saw--a possible means of bringing about the vengeance to which Felix +and I had dedicated our lives. + +"You grew; your ardent nature, generous temper, and facile mind promised +an abundant manhood, and when your mother died, leaving me for a second +time a widower, I no longer hesitated to devote you to the purpose for +which you seemed born. Thomas, do you remember the beginning of that +journey which finally led you far from me? How I bore you on my shoulder +along a dusty road, till arrived within sight of his home, I raised you +from among the tombs and, showing you those distant gables looming black +against the twilight's gold, dedicated you to the destruction of +whatever happiness might hereafter develop under his infant's smile? You +do? I did not think you could forget; and now that the time has come for +the promise of that hour to be fulfilled, I call on you again, Thomas. +Avenge our griefs, avenge your sister. _Poindexter's girl has grown to +womanhood._" + +At the suggestion conveyed in these words Thomas recoiled in horror. But +the old man failed to read his emotion rightly. Clutching his arm, he +proceeded passionately: + +"Woo her! Win her! They do not know you. You will be Thomas Adams to +them, not Thomas Cadwalader. Gather this budding flower into your bosom, +and then--Oh, he must love his child! Through her we have our hand on +his heart. Make her suffer--she's but a country girl, and you have lived +in Paris--make her suffer, and if, in doing so, you cause him to blench, +then believe I am looking upon you from the grave I go to, and be happy; +for you will not have lived, nor will I have died, in vain." + +He paused to catch his failing breath, but his indomitable will +triumphed over death and held Thomas under a spell that confounded his +instincts and made him the puppet of feelings which had accumulated +their force to fill him, in one hour, with a hate which it had taken his +father and brother a quarter of a century to bring to the point of +active vengeance. + +"I shall die; I am dying now," the old man panted on. "I shall never +live to see your triumph; I shall never behold John Poindexter's eye +glaze with those sufferings which rend the entrails and make a man +question if there is a God in heaven. But I shall know it where I am. No +mounded earth can keep my spirit down when John Poindexter feels his +doom. I shall be conscious of his anguish and shall rejoice; and when in +the depths of darkness to which I go he comes faltering along my way---- + +"Boy, boy, you have been reared for this. God made you handsome; man has +made you strong; you have made yourself intelligent and accomplished. +You have only to show yourself to this country girl to become the master +of her will and affection, and these once yours, remember _me_! +_Remember Evelyn!_" + +Never had Thomas been witness to such passion. It swept him along in a +burning stream against which he sought to contend and could not. Raising +his hand in what he meant as a response to that appeal, he endeavored to +speak, but failed. His father misinterpreted his silence, and bitterly +cried: + +"You are dumb! You do not like the task; are virtuous, perhaps--you who +have lived for years alone and unhampered in Paris. Or you have +instincts of honor, habits of generosity that blind you to wrongs that +for a longer space than your lifetime have cried aloud to heaven for +vengeance. Thomas, Thomas, if you should fail me now----" + +"He will not fail you," broke in the voice of Felix, calm, suave, and +insinuating. "I have watched him; I know him; he will not fail you." + +Thomas shuddered; he had forgotten Felix, but as he heard these words he +could no longer delay looking at the man who had offered to stand his +surety for the performance of the unholy deed his father exacted from +him. Turning, he saw a man who in any place and under any roof would +attract attention, awake admiration and--yes, fear. He was not a large +man, not so large as himself, but the will that expressed itself in +frenzy on his father's lips showed quiet and inflexible in the gray eye +resting upon his own with a power he could never hope to evade. As he +looked and comprehended, a steel band seemed to compress his heart; yet +he was conscious at the same time that the personality before which he +thus succumbed was as elegant as his own and as perfectly trained in all +the ways of men and of life. Even the air of poverty which had shocked +him in his father's person and surroundings was not visible here. Felix +was both well and handsomely clad, and could hold his own as the elder +brother in every respect most insisted upon by the Parisian gentleman. +The long and, to Thomas, mysterious curtain of dark-green serge which +stretched behind him from floor to ceiling threw out his pale features +with a remarkable distinctness, and for an instant Thomas wondered if it +had been hung there for the purpose of producing this effect. But the +demand in his brother's face drew his attention, and, bowing his head, +he stammered: + +"I am at your command, Felix. I am at your command, father. I cannot say +more. Only remember that I never saw Evelyn, that she died before I was +born, and that I----" + +But here Felix's voice broke in, kind, but measured: + +"Perhaps there is some obstacle we have not reckoned upon. You may +already love some woman and desire to marry her. If so, it need be no +impediment----" + +But here Thomas's indignation found voice. + +"No," said he; "I am heart-whole save for a few lingering fancies which +are fast becoming vanishing dreams." + +He seemed to have lived years since entering this room. + +"Your heart will not be disturbed now," commented Felix. "I have seen +the girl. I went there on purpose a year ago. She's as pale as a +snow-drop and as listless. You will not be obliged to recall to mind the +gay smiles of Parisian ladies to be proof against her charms." + +Thomas shrugged his shoulders. + +"She must be made to know the full intoxication of hope," Felix +proceeded in his clear and cutting voice. "To realize despair she must +first experience every delight that comes with satisfied love. Have you +the skill as well as heart to play to the end a rôle which will take +patience as well as dissimulation, courage as well as subtlety, and that +union of will and implacability which finds its food in tears and is +strengthened, rather than lessened, by the suffering of its victim?" + +"I have the skill," murmured Thomas, "but----" + +"You lack the incentive," finished Felix. "Well, well, we must have +patience with your doubts and hesitations. Our hate has been fostered by +memories of her whom, as you say, you have never seen. Look, then, +Thomas. Look at your sister as she was, as she is for us. Look at her, +and think of her as despoiled, killed, forgotten by Poindexter. Have you +ever gazed upon a more moving countenance, or one in which beauty +contends with a keener prophecy of woe?" + +Not knowing what to expect, anticipating almost to be met by her shade, +Thomas followed the direction of his brother's lifted hand, and beheld, +where but a minute before that dismal curtain had hung, a blaze of +light, in the midst of which he saw a charming, but tragic, figure, such +as no gallery in all Europe had ever shown him, possibly because no +other limned face or form had ever appealed to his heart. It did not +seem a picture, it seemed her very self, a gentle, loving self that +breathed forth all the tenderness he had vainly sought for in his living +relatives; and falling at her feet, he cried out: + +"Do not look at me so reproachfully, sweet Evelyn. I was born to avenge +you, and I will. John Poindexter shall never go down in peace to his +tomb." + +A sigh of utter contentment came from the direction of the bed. + +"Swear it!" cried his father, holding out his arms before him in the +form of a cross. + +"Yes, swear it!" repeated Felix, laying his own hand on those crossed +arms. + +Thomas drew near, and laid his hand beside that of Felix. + +"I swear," he began, raising his voice above the tempest, which poured +gust after gust against the house. "I swear to win the affections of Eva +Poindexter, and then, when her heart is all mine, to cast her back in +anguish and contumely on the breast of John Poindexter." + +"Good!" came from what seemed to him an immeasurable distance. Then the +darkness, which since the taking of this oath had settled over his +senses, fell, and he sank insensible at the feet of his dying father. + + * * * * * + +Amos Cadwalader died that night; but not without one awful scene more. +About midnight he roused from the sleep which had followed the exciting +incidents I have just related, and glancing from Thomas to Felix, +sitting on either side of the bed, fixed his eyes with a strange gleam +upon the door. + +"Ah!" he ejaculated, "a visitor! John Poindexter! He comes to ask my +forgiveness before I set out on my dismal journey." + +The sarcasm of his tone, the courtesy of his manner, caused the hair to +stir on the heads of his two sons. That he saw his enemy as plainly as +he saw them, neither could doubt. + +"Does he dread my meeting with Evelyn? Does he wish to placate me before +I am joined to that pathetic shade? He shall not be disappointed. I +forgive you, John Poindexter! I forgive you my daughter's shame, my +blighted life. I am dying; but I leave one behind who will not forgive +you. I have a son, an avenger of the dead, who yet lives to--to----" + +He fell back. With these words, which seemed to seal Thomas to his task, +Amos Cadwalader died. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +EVA. + + +Felix had not inherited his father's incapacity for making money. In the +twenty years that had passed since Thomas had been abroad he had built +up a fortune, which he could not induce his father to share, but which +that father was perfectly willing to see devoted to their mutual +revenge. There was meaning, therefore, in the injunction Felix gave his +brother on his departure for Montgomery: + +"I have money; spend it; spend what you will, and when your task is +completed, there will still be some left for your amusement." + +Thomas bowed. "The laborer is worthy of his hire," was his thought. "And +you?" he asked, looking about the scanty walls, which seemed to have +lost their very excuse for being now that his father had died. "Will you +remain here?" + +Felix's answer was abrupt, but positive. "No; I go to New York +to-morrow. I have rented a house there, which you may one day wish to +share. The name under which I have leased it is Adams, Felix Adams. As +such you will address me. Cadwalader is a name that must not leave your +lips in Montgomery, nor must you forget that my person is known there, +otherwise we might not have been dependent on you for the success of our +revenge." And he smiled, fully conscious of being the handsomer man of +the two. "And now how about those introductions we enjoined you to bring +from Paris?" + + * * * * * + +The history of the next few weeks can best be understood by reading +certain letters sent by Thomas to Felix, by examining a diary drawn up +by the same writer for his own relief and satisfaction. The letters will +be found on the left, and the diary on the right, of the double columns +hereby submitted. The former are a summary of facts; the latter is a +summary of feelings. Both are necessary to a right comprehension of the +situation. + + * * * * * + + +FIRST LETTER. + +DEAR FELIX: + +I am here; I have seen her. She is, as you have said, a pale blonde. +To-morrow I present my credentials to John Poindexter. From what I have +already experienced I anticipate a favorable reception. + +Yours aff., THOMAS. + + +FIRST ENTRY. + +I could not write Felix the true story of this day. Why? And why must I +write it here? To turn my mind from dwelling on it? Perhaps. I do not +seem to understand my own feelings, or why I begin to dread my task, +while ardently pressing forward to accomplish it. + +I have seen her. This much I wrote to Felix, but I did not say where our +meeting took place or how. How could I? Would he understand how one of +Poindexter's blood could be employed in a gracious act, or how I, filled +with a purpose that has made my heart dark as hell ever since I embraced +it, could find that heart swell and that purpose sink at my first +glimpse of the face whose beauty I have sworn to devote to agony and +tears? Surely, surely Felix would have been stronger, and yet---- + +I went from the cars to the cemetery. Before entering the town or seeing +to my own comfort, I sought Evelyn's grave, there to renew my oath in +the place where, nineteen years ago, my father held me up, a +four-year-old child, in threat, toward John Poindexter's home. I had +succeeded in finding the old and neglected stone which marked her +resting-place, and was bending in the sunset light to examine it, when +the rustle of a woman's skirts attracted my attention, and I perceived +advancing toward me a young girl in a nimbus of rosy light which seemed +to lift her from the ground and give to her delicate figure and +strangely illumined head an ethereal aspect which her pure features and +tender bearing did not belie. In her arms she carried a huge cluster of +snow-white lilies, and when I observed that her eyes were directed not +on me, but on the grave beside which I stood, I moved aside into the +shadow of some bushes and watched her while she strewed these +flowers--emblems of innocence--over the grave I had just left. + +What did it mean, and who was this young girl who honored with such +gracious memorials the grave of my long-buried sister? As she rose from +her task I could no longer restrain either my emotion or the curiosity +with which her act had inspired me. Advancing, I greeted her with all +the respect her appearance called for, and noting that her face was even +more beautiful when lifted in speech than when bent in gravity over her +flowers, I asked her, in the indifferent tone of a stranger, who was +buried in this spot, and why she, a mere girl, dropped flowers upon a +grave the mosses of whose stone proved it to have been dug long before +she was born. + +Her answer caused me a shock, full as my life has lately been of +startling experiences. "I strew flowers here," said she, "because the +girl who lies buried under this stone had the same birthday as myself. I +never saw her, it's true, but she died in my father's house when she was +no older than I am to-day, and since I have become a woman and realize +what loss there is in dying young, I have made it a custom to share with +her my birthday flowers. She was a lily, they say, in appearance and +character, and so I bring her lilies." + +It was Eva Poindexter, the girl I--And she was strewing flowers on +Evelyn's grave. + + * * * * * + +LETTER II. + +DEAR FELIX: + +I have touched the hand of John Poindexter. In order to win a place in +the good graces of the daughter I must please the father, or at least +attract his favorable notice. I have reason to think I have done this. + +Very truly, THOMAS. + + +ENTRY II. + +I no longer feel myself a true man. John Poindexter is cold in +appearance, hard in manner, and inflexible in opinion, but he does not +inspire the abhorrence I anticipated nor awaken in me the one thought +due to the memory of my sister. Is it because he is Eva's father? Has +the loveliness of the daughter cast a halo about the parent? If so, +Felix has a right to execrate me and my father to---- + + * * * * * + +LETTER III. + +DEAR FELIX: + +The introductions furnished me have made me received everywhere. There +is considerable wealth here and many fine houses. Consequently I find +myself in a congenial society, of which she is the star. Did I say that +he was, as of old, the chief man of the town? + +Yours truly, THOMAS. + + +ENTRY III. + +She is beautiful. She has the daintiness of the lily and the flush of +the rose. But it is not her beauty that moves me; it is the strange +sweetness of her nature, which, nevertheless, has no weakness in it; on +the contrary, it possesses peculiar strength, which becomes instantly +apparent at the call of duty. Could Felix have imagined such a +Poindexter? I cannot contemplate such loveliness and associate it with +the execrable sin which calls down vengeance upon this house. I cannot +even dwell upon my past life. All that is dark, threatening, secret, and +revengeful slips from me under her eye, and I dream of what is pure, +true, satisfying, and ennobling. And this by the influence of her smile, +rather than of her words. Have I been given an angel to degrade? Or am I +so blind as to behold a saint where others (Felix, let us say) would see +only a pretty woman with unexpected attractions? + + * * * * * + +LETTER IV. + +DEAR FELIX: + +Rides, dances, games, nonsense generally. My interest in this young girl +is beginning to be publicly recognized. She alone seems ignorant of it. +Sometimes I wonder if our scheme will fail through her impassibility and +more than conventional innocence. I am sometimes afraid she will never +love me. Yet I have exerted myself to please her. Indeed, I could not +have exerted myself more. To-day I went twenty-five miles on horseback +to procure her a trifle she fancied. + +Yours aff., THOMAS. + + +ENTRY IV. + +All will not go as easily as Felix imagines. Eva Poindexter may be a +country girl, but she has her standards, too, and mere grace and +attainment are not sufficient to win her. Have I the other qualities she +demands? That remains to be seen. I have one she never dreams of. Will +its shadow so overwhelm the rest that her naturally pure spirit will +shrink from me just at the moment when I think her mine? I cannot tell, +and the doubt creates a hell within me. Something deeper, stronger, more +imperious than my revenge makes the winning of this girl's heart a +necessity to me. I have forgotten my purpose in this desire. I have +forgotten everything except that she is the one woman of my life, and +that I can never rest till her heart is wholly mine. Good God! Have I +become a slave where I hoped to be master? Have I, Thomas Cadwalader, +given my soul into the keeping of this innocent girl? I do not even stop +to inquire. To win her--that is all for which I now live. + + * * * * * + +LETTER V. + +DEAR FELIX: + +She may not care for me, but she is interested in no one else. Of this I +am assured by John Poindexter, who seems very desirous of aiding me in +my attempt to win his daughter's heart. Hard won, close bound. If she +ever comes to love me it will be with the force of a very strong nature. +The pale blonde has a heart. + +Yours aff., THOMAS. + + +ENTRY V. + +If it were passion only that I feel, I might have some hope of +restraining it. But it is something more, something deeper, something +which constrains me to look with her eyes, hear with her ears, and throb +with her heart. My soul, rather than my senses, is enthralled. I want to +win her, not for my own satisfaction, but to make her happy. I want to +prove to her that goodness exists in this world--I, who came here to +corrode and destroy; I, who am still pledged to do so. Ah, Felix, Felix, +you should have chosen an older man for your purpose, or remembered that +he who could be influenced as I was by family affections possesses a +heart too soft for such infamy. + + * * * * * + +ENTRY VI. + +The name of Evelyn is never mentioned in this house. Sometimes I think +that he has forgotten her, and find in this thought the one remaining +spur to my revenge. Forgotten her! Strange, that his child, born long +after his victim's death, should remember this poor girl, and he forget! +Yet on the daughter the blow is planned to fall--if it does fall. Should +I not pray that it never may? That she should loathe instead of love me? +Distrust, instead of confide in my honor and affection? But who can pray +against himself? Eva Poindexter must love me, even if I am driven to +self-destruction by my own remorse, after she has confided her heart to +my keeping. + + * * * * * + +LETTER VI. + +DEAR FELIX: + +Will you send me a few exquisite articles from Tiffany's? I see that her +father expects me to give her presents. I think she will accept them. If +she does, we may both rest easy as to the state of her affections. + +Very truly, THOMAS. + + +ENTRY VII. + +I cannot bring myself to pass a whole day away from her side. If Felix +were here and could witness my assiduity, he would commend me in his +cold and inflexible heart for the singleness with which I pursue my +purpose. He would say to me, in the language of one of his letters: "You +are not disappointing us." Us! As if our father still hovered near, +sharing our purposes and hope. Alas! if he does, he must penetrate more +deeply than Felix into the heart of this matter; must see that with +every day's advantage--and I now think each day brings its advantage--I +shrink further and further from the end they planned for me; the end +which can alone justify my advance in her affections. I am a traitor to +my oath, for I now know I shall never disappoint Eva's faith in me. I +could not. Rather would I meet my father's accusing eyes on the verge of +that strange world to which he has gone, or Felix's recriminations here, +or my own contempt for the weakness which has made it possible for me to +draw back from the brink of this wicked revenge to which I have devoted +myself. + + * * * * * + +LETTER VII. + +DEAR FELIX: + +This morning I passed under the window you have described to me as +Evelyn's. I did it with a purpose. I wanted to test my own emotions and +to see how much feeling it would arouse in me. Enough. + +Eva accepted the brooch. It was the simplest thing you sent. + +Aff., THOMAS. + + +ENTRY VIII. + +I hate John Poindexter, yes, I hate him, but I can never hate his +daughter. Only Felix could so confound the father with the child as to +visit his anger upon this gentle embodiment of all that is gracious, all +that is trustworthy, all that is fascinating in woman. But am I called +upon to hate her? Am I not in a way required to love her? I will ask +Felix. No, I cannot ask Felix. He would never comprehend her charm or +its influence over me. He would have doubts and come at once to +Montgomery. Good God! Am I proving such a traitor to my own flesh and +blood that I cannot bear to think of Felix contemplating even in secret +the unsuspicious form of his enemy's daughter? + + * * * * * + +LETTER VIII. + +DEAR FELIX: + +A picnic on the mountains. It fell to me to escort Miss Poindexter down +a dangerous slope. Though no words of affection passed between us (she +is not yet ready for them), I feel that I have made a decided advance in +her good graces. + +Yours, THOMAS. + + +ENTRY IX. + +I have touched her hand! I have felt her sweet form thrilling against +mine as we descended the mountain ledges together! No man was near, no +eye--there were moments in which we were as much alone in the wide +paradise of these wooded slopes as if the world held no other breathing +soul. Yet I no more dared to press her hand, or pour forth the mad +worship of my heart into her innocent ears, than if the eyes of all +Paris had been upon us. How I love her! How far off and faint seem the +years of that dead crime my brother would invoke for the punishment of +this sweet soul! Yes, and how remote that awful hour in which I knelt +beneath the hand of my dying father and swore--Ah, that oath! That oath! + + * * * * * + +ENTRY X. + +The thing I dreaded, the thing I might have foreseen, has occurred. +Felix has made his appearance in Montgomery. I received a communication +to that effect from him to-day; a communication in which he commands me +to meet him to-night, at Evelyn's grave, at the witching hour of twelve. +I do not enjoy the summons. I have a dread of Felix, and begin to think +he calculates upon stage devices to control me. But the day has passed +for that. I will show him that I can be no more influenced in that place +and at that hour than I could be in this hotel room, with the sight of +her little glove--is there sin in such thefts?--lying on the table +before us. Evelyn! She is a sacred memory. But the dead must not +interfere with the living. Eva shall never be sacrificed to Evelyn's +manes, not if John Poindexter lives out his life to his last hour in +peace; not if Felix--well; I need to play the man; Felix is a formidable +antagonist to meet, alone, in a spot of such rancorous memories, at an +hour when spirits--if there be spirits--haunt the precincts of the tomb. + + * * * * * + +ENTRY XI. + +I should not have known Felix had I met him in the street. How much of a +stranger he appeared, then, in the faint moonlight which poured upon +that shaded spot! His very voice seemed altered, and in his manner I +remarked a hesitation I had not supposed him capable of showing under +any circumstances. Nor were his words such as I expected. The questions +I dreaded most he did not ask. The recriminations I looked for he did +not utter. He only told me coldly that my courtship must be shortened; +that the end for which we were both prepared must be hastened, and gave +me two weeks in which to bring matters to a climax. Then he turned to +Evelyn's grave, and bending down, tried to read her name on the mossy +stone. He was so long in doing this that I leaned down beside him and +laid my hand on his shoulder. He was trembling, and his body was as cold +as the stone he threw himself against. Was it the memory of her whom +that stone covered which had aroused this emotion? If so, it was but +natural. To all appearance he has never in all his life loved any one as +he did this unhappy sister; and struck with a respect for the grief +which has outlived many a man's lifetime, I was shrinking back when he +caught my hand, and with a convulsive strain, contrasting strongly with +his tone, which was strangely measured, he cried, "Do not forget the +end! Do not forget John Poindexter! his sin, his indifference to my +father's grief; the accumulated sufferings of years which made Amos +Cadwalader a hermit amongst men. I have seen the girl; she has +changed--women do change at her age--and some men, I do not say you, but +some men might think her beautiful. But beauty, if she has it, must not +blind your eyes, which are fixed upon another goal. Overlook it; +overlook her--you have done so, have you not? Pale beauties cannot move +one who has sat at the feet of the most dazzling of Parisian women. Keep +your eyes on John Poindexter, the debt he owes us, and the suffering we +have promised him. That she is sweet, gentle, different from all we +thought her, only makes the chances of reaching his heart the greater. +The worthier she may be of affections not indigenous to that hard soul, +the surer will be our grip upon his nature and the heavier his +downfall." + +The old spell was upon me. I could neither answer nor assert myself. +Letting go my hand, he rose, and with his back to the village--I noticed +he had not turned his face to it since coming to this spot--he said: "I +shall return to New York to-morrow. In two weeks you will telegraph your +readiness to take up your abode with me. I have a home that will satisfy +you; and it will soon be all your own." + +Here he gripped his heart; and, dark as it was, I detected a strange +convulsion cross his features as he turned into the moonlight. But it +was gone before we could descend. + +"You may hear from me again," he remarked somewhat faintly as he grasped +my hand, and turned away in his own direction. I had not spoken a word +during the whole interview. + + * * * * * + +LETTER IX. + +DEAR FELIX: + +I do not hear from you. Are you well, or did your journey affect your +health? I have no especial advance to report. John Poindexter seems +greatly interested in my courtship. Sometimes he gives me very good +advice. How does that strike you, Felix? + +Aff., THOMAS. + + +ENTRY XII. + +I shall never understand Felix. He has not left the town, but is staying +here in hiding, watching me, no doubt, to see if the signs of weakening +he doubtless suspects in me have a significance deep enough to overthrow +his planned revenge. I know this, because I have seen him more than once +during the last week, when he thought himself completely invisible. I +have caught sight of him in Mr. Poindexter's grounds when Eva and I +stood talking together in the window. I even saw him once in church, in +a dark corner, to be sure, but where he could keep his eye upon us, +sitting together in Mr. Poindexter's pew. He seemed to me thin that day. +The suspense he is under is wearing upon him. Is it my duty to cut it +short by proclaiming my infidelity to my oath and my determination to +marry the girl who has made me forget it? + + * * * * * + +LETTER X. + +DEAR FELIX: + +Miss Poindexter has told me unreservedly that she cares for me. Are you +satisfied with me now? + +In haste, THOMAS. + + +ENTRY XIII. + +She loves me. Oh, ecstasy of life! Eva Poindexter loves me. I forced it +from her lips to-day. With my arms around her and her head on my +shoulder, I urged her to confession, and it came. Now let Felix do what +he will! What is old John Poindexter to me? Her father. What are Amos +Cadwalader's hatred and the mortal wrong that called so loudly for +revenge? Dead issues, long buried sorrows, which God may remember, but +which men are bound to forget. Life, life with her! That is the future +toward which I look; that is the only vengeance I will take, the only +vengeance Evelyn can demand if she is the angel we believe her. I will +write to Felix to-morrow. + + * * * * * + +ENTRY XIV. + +I have not written Felix. I had not the courage. + + * * * * * + +ENTRY XV. + +I have had a dream. I thought I saw the meeting of my father with the +white shade of Evelyn in the unimaginable recesses of that world to +which both have gone. Strange horrors, stranger glories met as their +separate paths crossed, and when the two forms had greeted and parted, a +line of light followed the footsteps of the one and a trail of gloom +those of the other. As their ways divided, I heard my father cry: + +"There is no spot on your garments, Evelyn. Can it be that the wrongs of +earth are forgotten here? That mortals remember what the angels forget, +and that our revenge is late for one so blessed?" + +I did not hear the answer, for I woke; but the echo of those words has +rung in my ears all day. "Is our revenge late for one so blessed?" + + * * * * * + +ENTRY XVI. + +I have summoned up courage. Felix has been here again, and the truth has +at last been spoken between us. I had been pressing Eva to name our +wedding day, and we were all standing--that is, John Poindexter, my dear +girl, and myself--in the glare of the drawing-room lights, when I heard +a groan, too faint for other ears to catch, followed by a light fall +from the window overlooking the garden. It was Felix. He had been +watching us, had seen my love, heard me talk of marriage, and must now +be in the grounds in open frenzy, or secret satisfaction, it was hard to +tell which. Determined to know, determined to speak, I excused myself on +some hurried plea, and searched the paths he knew as well as I. At last +I came upon him. He was standing near an old dial, where he had more +than once seen Eva and me together. He was very pale, deathly pale, it +seemed to me, in the faint starlight shining upon that open place; but +he greeted me as usual very quietly and with no surprise, almost, in +fact, as if he knew I would recognize his presence and follow him. + +"You are playing your rôle well," said he; "too well. What was that I +heard about your marrying?" + +The time had come. I was determined to meet it with a man's courage. But +I found it hard. Felix is no easy man to cross, even in small things, +and this thing is his life, nay, more--his past, present, and future +existence. + +I do not know who spoke first. There was some stammering, a few broken +words; then I heard myself saying distinctly, and with a certain hard +emphasis born of the restraint I put upon myself: + +"I love her! I want to marry her. You must allow this. Then----" + +I could not proceed. I felt the shock he had received almost as if it +had been communicated to me by contact. Something that was not of the +earth seemed to pass between us, and I remember raising my hand as if to +shield my face. And then, whether it was the blowing aside of some +branches which kept the moonlight from us, or because my eyesight was +made clearer by my emotion, I caught one glimpse of his face and became +conscious of a great suffering, which at first seemed the wrenching of +my own heart, but in another moment impressed itself upon me as that of +his, Felix's. + +I stood appalled. + +My weakness had uprooted the one hope of his life, or so I thought; and +that he expressed this by silence made my heart yearn toward him for the +first time since I recognized him as my brother. I tried to stammer some +excuse. I was glad when the darkness fell again, for the sight of his +bowed head and set features was insupportable to me. It seemed to make +it easier for me to talk; for me to dilate upon the purity, the goodness +which had robbed me of my heart in spite of myself. My heart! It seemed +a strange word to pass between us two in reference to a Poindexter, but +it was the only one capable of expressing the feeling I had for this +young girl. At last, driven to frenzy by his continued silence, which +had something strangely moving in it, I cried: + +"You have never loved a woman, Felix. You do not know what the passion +is when it seizes upon a man jaded with the hollow pleasures of an +irresponsible life. You cannot judge; therefore you cannot excuse. You +are made of iron----" + +"Hush!" It was the first word he had spoken since I had opened my heart +to him. "You do not know what you are saying, Thomas. Like all egotists, +you think yourself alone in experience and suffering. Will you think so +when I tell you that there was a time in my life when I did not sleep +for weeks; when the earth, the air, yes, and the heavens were full of +nothing but her name, her face, her voice? When to have held her in my +arms, to have breathed into her ear one word of love, to have felt her +cheek fall against mine in confidence, in passion, in hope, would have +been to me the heaven which would have driven the devils from my soul +forever? Thomas, will you believe I do not know the uttermost of all you +are experiencing, when I here declare to you that there has been an hour +in my life when, if I had felt she could have been brought to love me, I +would have sacrificed Evelyn, my own soul, our father's hope, John +Poindexter's punishment, and become the weak thing you are to-day, and +gloried in it, I, Felix Cadwalader, the man of iron, who has never been +known to falter? But, Thomas, I overcame that feeling. I crushed down +that love, and I call upon you to do the same. You may marry her, +but----" + +What stopped him? His own heart or my own impetuosity? Both, perhaps, +for at that moment I fell at his feet, and seizing his hand, kissed it +as I might a woman's. He seemed to grow cold and stiff under this +embrace, which showed both the delirium I was laboring under and the +relief I had gotten from his words. When he withdrew his hand, I feel +that my doom was about to be spoken, and I was not wrong. It came in +these words: + +"Thomas, I have yielded to your importunity and granted you the +satisfaction which under the same circumstances I would have denied +myself. But it has not made me less hard toward you; indeed, the steel +with which you say my heart is bound seems tightening about it, as if +the momentary weakness in which I have indulged called for revenge. +Thomas, go on your way; make the girl your wife--I had rather you would, +since she is--what she is--but after she has taken your name, after she +believes herself secure in her honorable position and your love, then +you are to remember our compact and your oath--back upon John +Poindexter's care she is to be thrown, shortly, curtly, without +explanation or excuse; and if it costs you your life, you are to stand +firm in this attitude, using but one weapon in the struggle which may +open between you and her father, and that is, your name of Cadwalader. +You will not need any other. Thomas, do you swear to this? Or must I +direct my own power against Eva Poindexter, and, by telling her your +motive in courting her, make her hate you forever?" + +"I will swear," I cried, overpowered by the alternative with which he +threatened me. "Give me the bliss of calling her mine, and I will follow +your wishes in all that concerns us thereafter." + +"You will?" There was a sinister tone in this ejaculation that gave a +shock to my momentary complacency. But we are so made that an +anticipated evil affects us less than an immediate one; and remembering +that weeks must yet elapse, during which he or John Poindexter or even +myself might die, I said nothing, and he went icily on: + +"I give you two months, alone and untrammelled. Then you are to bring +your bride to my house, there to hear my final decision. There is to be +no departure from this course. I shall expect you, Thomas; you and her. +You can say that you are going to make her acquainted with your +brother." + +"I will be there," I murmured, feeling a greater oppression than when I +took the oath at my father's death-bed. "I will be there." + +There was no answer. While I was repeating those four words, Felix +vanished. + + * * * * * + +LETTER XI. + +DEAR FELIX: + +Have a fresh draft made. I need cigars, clothes, and--a wedding ring. +But no, let me stop short there. We will be married without one, unless +you force it upon us. Eva's color is blue. + +Very truly, Thomas. + + +ENTRY XVII. + +To-day I wrote again to Felix. He is at home, must be, for I have +neither seen nor felt his presence since that fateful night. What did I +write? I don't remember. I seem to be living in a dream. Everything is +confused about me but Eva's face, Eva's smile. They are blissfully +clear. Sometimes I wish they were not. Were they confused amid these +shadows, I might have stronger hope of keeping my word to Felix. Now, I +shall never keep it. Eva once my wife, separation between us will become +impossible. John Poindexter is ill. + + * * * * * + +LETTER XII. + +DEAR FELIX: + +Congratulations: visits from my neighbors; all the éclat we could wish +or a true lover hate. The ring you sent fits as if made for her. I am +called in all directions by a thousand duties. I am on exhibition, and +every one's curiosity must be satisfied. + +In haste, THOMAS. + + +ENTRY XVIII. + +The wedding is postponed. John Poindexter is very ill. Pray God, Felix +hears nothing of this. He would come here; he would confront his enemy +on his bed of sickness. He would denounce him, and Eva would be lost to +me. + + * * * * * + +LETTER XIII. + +DEAR FELIX: + +Eva is not pleased with the arrangements which have been made for our +wedding. John Poindexter likes show; she does not. Which will carry the +day? + +Yours aff., THOMAS. + + +ENTRY XIX. + +Mr. Poindexter is better, but our plans will have to be altered. We now +think we will be married quietly, possibly in New York. + + * * * * * + +LETTER XIV. + +DEAR FELIX: + +A compromise has been effected. The wedding will be a quiet one, but not +celebrated here. As you cannot wish to attend it, I will not mention the +place or hour of my marriage, only say that on September 27th at 4 +P. M. you may expect my wife and myself at your house. + +Aff., THOMAS. + + +ENTRY XX. + +We have decided to be married in New York. Mr. Poindexter needs the +change, and Eva and I are delighted at the prospect of a private +wedding. Then we will be near Felix, but not to subject ourselves to his +will. Oh, no! + + * * * * * + +ENTRY XXI. + +Married! She is mine. And now to confront Felix with my determination to +hold on to my happiness. How I love her, and how I pity him! John +Poindexter's wickedness is forgotten, Evelyn but a fading memory. The +whole world seems to hold but three persons--Eva, Felix, and myself. How +will it end? We meet at his home to-morrow. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +FELIX. + + +Meanwhile there was another secret struggle going on in the depth of a +nature from which all sympathy was excluded both by the temperament of +the person concerned and the circumstances surrounding him. + +I can but hint at it. Some tragedies lie beyond the ken of man, and this +one we can but gather from stray scraps of torn-up letters addressed to +no one and betraying their authorship only through the writer's hand. +They were found long after the mystery of Felix Cadwalader's death had +been fully accounted for, tucked away under the flooring of Bartow's +room. Where or how procured by him, who can tell? + + * * * * * + +"Madness! + +"I have seen Eva Poindexter again, and heaven and hell have contended +for me ever since. Eva! Eva! the girl I thought of only as our prey. The +girl I have given to my brother. She is too lovely for him: she is too +lovely for any man unless it be one who has never before thrilled to any +woman's voice, or seen a face that could move his passions or awaken his +affection. Is it love I feel? Can I, Felix, who have had but one +thought, known but one enthusiasm, retain in this breast of iron a spot +however secret, however small, which any woman, least of all his +daughter, could reach? Never! I am the prey of frenzy or the butt of +devils. Yet only the inhabitants of a more celestial sphere brighten +around me when I think of those half-raised eyes, those delicately +parted lips, so devoid of guile, that innocent bearing, and the divine +tenderness, mingled with strength, by which she commands admiration and +awakens love. I must fly. I must never see her again. Thomas's purpose +is steady. He must never see that mine rocks like an idol smitten by a +thunderbolt. + +"If Thomas had not been reared in Paris, he too--But I am the only weak +one. Curses on my---- + +"Did I say I would fly? I cannot, not yet. One more glimpse of her face, +if only to satisfy myself that I have reason for this madness. Perhaps I +was but startled yesterday to find a celestial loveliness where I +expected to encounter pallid inanity. If my emotion is due to my own +weakness rather than to her superiority, I had better recognize my folly +before it proves my destruction. + +I will stay and---- + +Thomas will not, shall not---- + +dexter's daughter---- + +hate, hate for Thom---- + +"My self-esteem is restored. I have seen her again--him--they were +together--there was true love in his eye--how could I expect him not to +love her--and I was able to hide my anguish and impose his duty on him. +She loves him--or he thinks so--and the work goes on. But I will not +stay to watch its accomplishment. No, no. + +"I told him my story to-night, under the guise of a past experience. Oh, +the devils must laugh at us men! They have reason to. Sometimes I wonder +if my father in the clearness of his new vision does not join them in +their mirth. + +"Home with my unhappy secret! Home, where nothing comes to distract me +from my gnawing griefs and almost intolerable thoughts. I walk the +floors. I cry aloud her name. I cry it even under the portrait of +Evelyn. There are moments when I am tempted to write to Thomas--to +forbid him---- + +"Eva! Eva! Eva! Every fibre in my miserable body utters the one word. +But no man shall ever know. Thomas shall never know how the thought of +her fills my days and nights, making my life a torment and the +future---- + +"I wait for his letters (scanty they are and cold) as the doomed +criminal awaits his executioner. Does she really love him? Or will that +exquisite, that soulful nature call for a stronger mate, a more +concentrated temperament, a--a---- + +"I thought I saw in one of my dark hours my father rising up from his +grave to curse me. Oh! he might curse on if---- + +"What have I said about no man knowing? Bartow knows. In his dumbness, +his deafness, he has surprised my secret, and shows that he has done so +by his peering looks, his dissatisfied ways, and a jealousy at which I +could shout aloud in mirth, if I were not more tempted to shriek aloud +in torment. A dumb serving-man, picked up I have almost forgotten where, +jealous of my weakness for John Poindexter's daughter! He was never +jealous of my feeling for Evelyn. Yet till the day I dared fate by +seeking out and looking for the second time upon the woman whose charms +I had scorned, her name often resounded through these rooms, and my eyes +dwelt upon but one spot, and that was where her picture hangs in the +woeful beauty which has become my reproach. + +"I have had a great surprise. The starling, which has been taught to +murmur Evelyn's name, to-day shrieked out, 'Eva! Eva!' My first impulse +was to wring its neck, my next to take it from its cage and hide it in +my bosom. But I did neither. I am still a man. + +"Bartow will wring that bird's neck if I do not. This morning I caught +him with his hand on the cage and a murderous light in his eye, which I +had no difficulty in understanding. Yet he cannot hear the word the +wretched starling murmurs. He only knows it is a word, a name, and he is +determined to suppress it. Shall I string the cage up out of this old +fellow's reach? His deafness, his inability to communicate with others, +the exactness with which he obeys my commands as given him by my colored +slides, his attention to my every wish, consequent upon his almost +animal love for my person, are necessary to me now, while the bird--Ah! +there it goes again, 'Eva! Eva!' + +"Is it hate or love I feel, abhorrence or passion? Love would seek to +save, but I have no thought of saving her, since she has acknowledged +her love for Thomas, and since he--Oh, it is not now for Evelyn's sake I +plan revenge, but for my own! These nights and days of torture--the +revelation I have had of my own nature--the consent I was forced to give +to a marriage which means bliss to them and anguish beyond measure to +me--all this calls for vengeance, and they will not escape, these two. I +have laid my plans deep. I have provided for every contingency. It has +taken time, thought, money. But the result is good. If they cross the +threshold of my circular study, they must consent to my will or perish +here, and I with them. Oh, they shall never live and be happy! Thomas +need not think it. John Poindexter need not think it! I might have +forgotten the oath made on my father's crossed arms, but I will never +forget the immeasurable griefs of these past months or the humiliation +they have brought me. My own weakness is to be avenged--my unheard-of, +my intolerable weakness. Remember Evelyn? Remember Felix! Ah, again! +Eva! Eva! Eva!" + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +WHY THE IRON SLIDE REMAINED STATIONARY. + + +The rest must be told in Thomas's own words, as it forms the chief part +of the confession he made before the detectives: + +According to my promise, I took my young wife to Felix's house on the +day and at the hour proposed. We went on foot, for it was not far from +the hotel where we were then staying, and were received at the door by +an old servant who I had been warned could neither speak nor hear. At +sight of him and the dim, old-fashioned hall stretching out in +aristocratic gloom before us, Eva turned pale and cast me an inquiring +look. But I reassured her with a smile that most certainly contradicted +my own secret dread of the interview before us, and taking her on my +arm, followed the old man down the hall, past the open drawing-room door +(where I certainly thought we should pause), into a room whose plain +appearance made me frown, till Bartow, as I have since heard him called, +threw aside the portière at one end and introduced us into my brother's +study, which at that moment looked like fairyland, or would have, if +Felix, who was its sole occupant, had not immediately drawn our +attention to himself by the remarkable force of his personality, never +so impressive as at that moment. + +Eva, to whom I had said little of this brother, certainly nothing which +would lead her to anticipate seeing either so handsome a man or one of +such mental poise and imposing character, looked frightened and a trifle +awe-struck. But she advanced quite bravely toward him, and at my +introduction smiled with such an inviting grace that I secretly expected +to see him more or less disarmed by it. + +And perhaps he was, for his already pale features turned waxy in the +yellow glare cast by the odd lantern over our heads, and the hand he had +raised in mechanical greeting fell heavily, and he could barely stammer +out some words of welcome. These would have seemed quite inadequate to +the occasion if his eyes which were fixed on her face, had not betrayed +the fact that he was not without feeling, though she little realized the +nature of that feeling or how her very life (for happiness is life) was +trembling in the balance under that indomitable will. + +I who did know--or thought I did--cast him an imploring glance, and, +saying that I had some explanations to make, asked if Mrs. Adams might +not rest here while we had a few words apart. + +He answered me with a strange look. Did he feel the revolt in my tone +and understand then as well as afterward what the nature of my +compliance had been? I shall never know. I only know that he stopped +fumbling with some small object on the table before him, and, bowing +with a sarcastic grace that made me for the first time in my intercourse +with him feel myself his inferior, even in size, led the way to a small +door I had failed to notice up to this moment. + +"Your wife will find it more comfortable here," he observed, with slow +pauses in his speech that showed great, but repressed, excitement. And +he opened the door into what had the appearance of a small but elegant +sleeping-apartment. "What we have to say cannot take long. Mrs. Adams +will not find the wait tedious." + +"No," she smiled, with a natural laugh, born, as I dare hope, of her +perfect happiness. Yet she could not but have considered the proceeding +strange, and my manner, as well as his, scarcely what might be expected +from a bridegroom introducing his bride to his only relative. + +"I will call you--" I began, but the vision of her dimpled face above +the great cluster of roses she carried made me forget to complete my +sentence, and the door closed, and I found myself face to face with +Felix. + +He was breathing easier, and his manner seemed more natural now that we +were alone, yet he did not speak, but cast a strange, if not inquiring, +glance about the room (the weirdest of apartments, as you all well +know), and seeming satisfied with what he saw, why I could not tell, led +the way up to the large table which from the first had appeared to exert +a sort of uncanny magnetism upon him, saying: + +"Come further away. I need air, breathing place in this close room, and +so must you. Besides, why should she hear what we have to say? She will +know the worst soon enough. She seems a gentle-hearted woman." + +"An angel!" I began, but he stopped me with an imperious gesture. + +"We will not discuss your wi--Mrs. Adams," he protested. "Where is John +Poindexter?" + +"At the hotel," I rejoined. "Or possibly he has returned home. I no +longer take account of his existence. Felix, I shall never leave my +wife. I had rather prove recreant to the oath I took before I realized +the worth of the woman whose happiness I vowed to destroy. This is what +I have come to tell you. Make it easy for me, Felix. You are a man who +has loved and suffered. Let us bury the past; let us----" + +Had I hoped I could move him? Perhaps some such child's notion had +influenced me up to this moment. But as these words left my lips, nay, +before I had stumbled through them, I perceived by the set look of his +features, which were as if cast in bronze, that I might falter, but that +he was firm as ever, firmer, it seemed to me, and less easy to be +entreated. + +Yet what of that? At the worst, what had I to fear? A struggle which +might involve Eva in bitter unpleasantness and me in the loss of a +fortune I had come to regard almost as my own. But these were petty +considerations. Eva must know sooner or later my real name and the story +of her father's guilt. Why not now? And if we must start life poor, it +was yet life, while a separation from her---- + +Meanwhile Felix had spoken, and in language I was least prepared to +hear. + +"I anticipated this. From the moment you pleaded with me for the +privilege of marrying her, I have looked forward to this outcome and +provided against it. Weakness on the part of her bridegroom was to be +expected; I have, therefore, steeled myself to meet the emergency; for +your oath must be kept!" + +Crushed by the tone in which these words were uttered, a tone that +evinced power against which any ordinary struggle would end in failure, +I cast my eyes about the room in imitation of what I had seen him do a +few minutes before. There was nothing within sight calculated to awaken +distrust, and yet a feeling of distrust (the first I had really felt) +had come with the look he had thrown above and around the mosque-like +interior of the room he called his study. Was it the calm confidence he +showed, or the weirdness of finding myself amid Oriental splendors and +under the influence of night effects in high day and within sound of the +clanging street cars and all the accompanying bustle of every-day +traffic? It is hard to say; but from this moment on I found myself +affected by a vague affright, not on my own account, but on hers whose +voice we could plainly hear humming a gay tune in the adjoining +apartment. But I was resolved to suppress all betrayal of uneasiness. I +even smiled, though I felt the eyes of Evelyn's pictured countenance +upon me; Evelyn's, whose portrait I had never lost sight of from the +moment of entering the room, though I had not given it a direct look and +now stood with my back to it. Felix, who faced it, but who did not raise +his eyes to it, waited a moment for my response, and finding that my +words halted, said again: + +"That oath must be kept!" + +This time I found words with which to answer. "Impossible!" I burst out, +flinging doubt, fear, hesitancy, everything I had hitherto trembled at +to the winds. "It was in my nature to take it, worked upon as I was by +family affection, the awfulness of our father's approaching death, and a +thousand uncanny influences all carefully measured and prepared for this +end. But it is not in my nature to keep it after four months of natural +living in the companionship of a man thirty years removed from his +guilt, and of his guileless and wholly innocent daughter. And you cannot +drive me to it, Felix. No man can force another to abandon his own wife +because of a wicked oath taken long before he knew her. If you think +your money----" + +"Money?" he cried, with a contempt that did justice to my +disinterestedness as well as his own. "I had forgotten I had it. No, +Thomas, I should never weigh money against the happiness of living with +such a woman as your wife appears to be. But her life I might. Carry out +your threat; forget to pay John Poindexter the debt we owe him, and the +matter will assume a seriousness for which you are doubtless poorly +prepared. A daughter dead in her honeymoon will be almost as great a +grief to him as a dishonored one. And either dead or dishonored he must +find her, when he comes here in search of the child he cannot long +forget. Which shall it be? Speak!" + +Was I dreaming? Was this Felix? Was this myself? And was it in my ears +these words were poured? + +With a spring I reached his side where he stood close against the table, +and groaned rather than shrieked the words: + +"You would not kill her! You do not meditate a crime of blood--here--on +her--the innocent--the good----" + +"No," he said; "it will be you who will do that. You who will not wish +to see her languish--suffer--go mad--Thomas, I am not the raving being +you take me for. I am merely a keeper of oaths. Nay, I am more. I have +talents, skill. The house in which you find yourself is proof of this. +This room--see, it has no outlet save those windows, scarcely if at all +perceptible to you, above our heads, and that opening shielded now by a +simple curtain, but which in an instant, without my moving from this +place, I can so hermetically seal that no man, save he be armed with +crowbar and pickaxe, could enter here, even if man could know of our +imprisonment, in a house soon to be closed from top to bottom by my +departing servant." + +"May God protect us!" fell from my lips, as, stiff with horror, I let my +eyes travel from his determined face, first to the windows high over my +head and then to the opening of the door, which, though but a few steps +from where I stood, was as far as possible from the room into which my +darling had been induced to enter. + +Felix, watching me, uttered his explanations as calmly as if the matter +were one of every-day significance. "You are looking for the windows," +he remarked. "They are behind those goblin faces you see outlined on the +tapestries under the ceiling. As for the door, if you had looked to the +left when you entered, you would have detected the edge of a huge steel +plate hanging flush with the casing. This plate can be made to slide +across that opening in an instant just by the touch of my hand on this +button. This done, no power save such as I have mentioned can move it +back again, not even my own. I have forces at my command for sending it +forward, but none for returning it to its place. Do you doubt my +mechanical skill or the perfection of the electrical apparatus I have +caused to be placed here? You need not, Thomas; nor need you doubt the +will that has only to exert itself for an instant to--Shall I press the +button, brother?" + +"No, no!" I shouted in a frenzy, caused rather by my knowledge of the +nature of this man than any especial threat apparent in his voice or +gesture. "Let me think; let me know more fully what your requirements +are--what she must suffer if I consent--and what I." + +He let his hand slip back, that smooth white hand which I had more than +once surveyed in admiration. Then he smiled. + +"I knew you would not be foolish," he said. "Life has its charms even +for hermits like me; and for a _beau garçon_ such as you are----" + +"Hush!" I interposed, maddened into daring his full anger. "It is not my +life I am buying, but hers, possibly yours; for it seems you have +planned to perish with us. Is it not so?" + +"Certainly," was his cold reply. "Am I an assassin? Would you expect me +to live, knowing you to be perishing?" + +I stared aghast. Such resolve, such sacrifice of self to an idea was +beyond my comprehension. + +"Why--what?" I stammered. "Why kill us, why kill yourself----" + +The answer overwhelmed me. + +"Remember Evelyn!" shrilled a voice, and I paused, struck dumb with a +superstitious horror I had never believed myself capable of +experiencing. For it was not Felix who spoke, neither was it any +utterance of my own aroused conscience. Muffled, strange, and startling +it came from above, from the hollow spaces of that high vault lit with +the golden glow that henceforth can have but one meaning for me--death. + +"What is it?" I asked. "Another of your mechanical contrivances?" + +He smiled; I had rather he had frowned. + +"Not exactly. A favorite bird, a starling. Alas! he but repeats what he +has heard echoed through the solitude of these rooms. I thought I had +smothered him up sufficiently to insure his silence during this +interview. But he is a self-willed bird, and seems disposed to defy the +wrappings I have bound around him; which fact warns me to be speedy and +hasten our explanations. Thomas, this is what I require: John +Poindexter--you do not know where he is at this hour, but I do--received +a telegram but now, which, if he is a man at all, will bring him to this +house in a half-hour or so from the present moment. It was sent in your +name, and in it you informed him that matters had arisen which demanded +his immediate attention; that you were on your way to your brother's +(giving him this address), where, if you found entrance, you would await +his presence in a room called the study; but that--and here you will see +how his coming will not aid us if that steel plate is once started on +its course--if the possible should occur and your brother should be +absent from home, then he was to await a message from you at the Plaza. +The appearance of the house would inform him whether he would find you +and Eva within; or so I telegraphed him in your name. + +"Thomas, if Bartow fulfils my instructions--and I have never know him to +fail me--he will pass down these stairs and out of this house in just +five minutes. As he is bound on a long-promised journey, and as he +expects me to leave the house immediately after him, he has drawn every +shade and fastened every lock. Consequently, on his exit, the house will +become a tomb, to which, just two weeks from to-day, John Poindexter +will be called again, and in words which will lead to a demolition which +will disclose--what? Let us not forestall the future, our horrible +future, by inquiring. But Thomas, shall Bartow go? Shall I not by signs +he comprehends more readily than other men comprehend speech indicate to +him on his downward passage to the street that I wish him to wait and +open the door to the man whom we have promised to overwhelm in his hour +of satisfaction and pride? You have only to write a line--see! I have +made a copy of the words you must use, lest your self-command should be +too severely taxed. These words left on this table for his +inspection--for you must go and Eva remain--will tell him all he needs +to know from you. The rest can come from my lips after he has read the +signature, which in itself will confound him and prepare the way for +what I have to add. Have you anything to say against this plan? +Anything, I mean, beyond what you have hitherto urged? Anything that I +will consider or which will prevent my finger from pressing the button +on which it rests?" + +I took up the paper. It was lying on the table, where it had evidently +been inscribed simultaneously with or just before our entrance into the +house, and slowly read the few lines I saw written upon it. You know +them, but they will acquire a new significance from your present +understanding of their purpose and intent: + + I return you back your daughter. Neither she nor you will ever see + me again. Remember Evelyn! + + AMOS'S SON. + +"You wish me to sign these words, to put them into my own handwriting, +and so to make them mine? Mine!" I repeated. + +"Yes, and to leave them here on this table for him to see when he +enters. He might not believe any mere statement from me in regard to +your intentions." + +I was filled with horror. Love, life, human hopes, the world's +friendships--all the possibilities of existence, swept in one +concentrated flood of thought and feeling through my outraged +consciousness, and I knew I could never put my name to such a blasphemy +of all that was sacred to man's soul. Tossing the paper in his face, I +cried: + +"You have gone too far! Better her death, better mine, better the +destruction of us all, than such dishonor to the purest thing heaven +ever made. I refuse, Felix--I refuse. And may God have mercy on us all!" + +The moment was ghastly. I saw his face change, his finger tremble where +it hovered above the fatal button; saw--though only in imagination as +yet--the steely edge of that deadly plate of steel advancing beyond the +lintel, and was about to dare all in a sudden grapple with this man, +when a sound from another direction caught my ear, and looking around in +terror of the only intrusion we could fear, beheld Eva advancing from +the room in which we had placed her. + +That moment a blood-red glow took the place of the sickly yellow which +had hitherto filled every recess of this weird apartment. But I scarcely +noticed the change, save as it affected her pallor and gave to her +cheeks the color that was lacking in the roses at her belt. + +Fearless and sweet as in the hour when she first told me that she loved +me, she approached and stood before us. + +"What is this?" she cried. "I have heard words that sound more like the +utterances of some horrid dream than the talk of men and brothers. What +does it mean, Thomas? What does it mean, Mr. ----" + +"Cadwalader," announced Felix, dropping his eyes from her face, but +changing not a whit his features or posture. + +"Cadwalader?" The name was not to her what it was to her father. +"Cadwalader? I have heard that name in my father's house; it was +Evelyn's name, the Evelyn who----" + +"Whom you see painted there over your head," finished Felix, "my sister, +Thomas's sister--the girl whom your father--but I spare you, child +though you be of a man who spared nothing. From your husband you may +learn why a Cadwalader can never find his happiness with a Poindexter. +Why thirty or more years after that young girl's death, you who were not +then born are given at this hour the choice between death and dishonor. +I allow you just five minutes in which to listen. After that you will +let me know your joint decision. Only you must make your talk where you +stand. A step taken by either of you to right or left, and Thomas knows +what will follow." + +Five minutes, with such a justification to make, and such a decision to +arrive at! I felt my head swim, my tongue refuse its office, and stood +dumb and helpless before her till the sight of her dear eyes raised in +speechless trust to mine flooded me with a sense of triumph amid all the +ghastly terrors of the moment, and I broke out in a tumult of speech, in +excuses, explanations, all that comes to one in a more than mortal +crisis. + +She listened, catching my meaning rather from my looks than my words. +Then as the minutes fled and my brother raised a warning hand, she +turned toward him, and said: + +"You are in earnest? We must separate in shame or perish in this +prison-house with you?" + +His answer was mere repetition, mechanical, but firm: + +"You have said it. You have but one minute more, madam." + +She shrank, and all her powers seemed leaving her, then a reaction came, +and a flaming angel stood where but a moment before the most delicate of +women weakly faltered; and giving me a look to see if I had the courage +or the will to lift my hand against my own flesh and blood (alas for us +both! I did not understand her) caught up an old Turkish dagger lying +only too ready to her hand, and plunged it with one sideways thrust into +his side, crying: + +"We cannot part, we cannot die, we are too young, too happy!" + +It was sudden; the birth of purpose in her so unexpected and so rapid +that Felix, the ready, who was prepared for all contingencies, for the +least movement or suggestion of escape, faltered and pressed, not the +fatal button, but his heart. + +One impulsive act on the part of a woman had overthrown all the +fine-spun plans of the subtlest spirit that ever attempted to work its +will in the face of God and man. + +But I did not think of this then; I did not even bestow a thought upon +the narrowness of our escape, or the price which the darling of my heart +might be called upon to pay for this supreme act of self-defence. My +mind, my heart, my interest were with Felix, in whom the nearness of +death had called up all that was strongest and most commanding in his +strong and commanding spirit. + +Though struck to the heart, he had not fallen. It was as if the will +which had sustained him through thirty years of mental torture held him +erect still, that he might give her, Eva, one look, the like of which I +had never seen on mortal face, and which will never leave my heart or +hers until we die. Then as he saw her sink shudderingly down and the +delicate woman reappear in her pallid and shrunken figure, he turned his +eyes on me and I saw,--good God!--a tear well up from those orbs of +stone and fall slowly down his cheek, fast growing hollow under the +stroke of death. + +"Eva! Eva! I love Eva!" shrilled the voice which once before had +startled me from the hollow vault above. + +Felix heard, and a smile faint as the failing rush of blood through his +veins moved his lips and brought a revelation to my soul. He, too, loved +Eva! + +When he saw I knew, the will which had kept him on his feet gave way, +and he sank to the floor murmuring: + +"Take her away! I forgive. Save! Save! She did not know I loved her." + +Eva, aghast, staring with set eyes at her work, had not moved from her +crouching posture. But when she saw that speaking head fall back, the +fine limbs settle into the repose of death, a shock went through her +which I thought would never leave her reason unimpaired. + +"I've killed him!" she murmured. "I've killed him!" and looking wildly +about, her eyes fell on the cross that hung behind us on the wall. It +seemed to remind her that Felix was a Catholic. "Bring it!" she gasped. +"Let him feel it on his breast. It may bring him peace--hope." + +As I rushed to do her bidding, she fell in a heap on the floor. + +"Save!" came again from the lips we thought closed forever in death. And +realizing at the words both her danger and the necessity of her not +opening her eyes again upon this scene, I laid the cross in his arms, +and catching her up from the floor, ran with her out of the house. But +no sooner had I caught sight of the busy street and the stream of +humanity passing before us, than I awoke to an instant recognition of +our peril. Setting my wife down, I commanded life back into her limbs by +the force of my own energy, and then dragging her down the steps, +mingled with the crowd, encouraging her, breathing for her, living in +her till I got her into a carriage and we drove away. + +For the silence we have maintained from that time to this you must not +blame Mrs. Adams. When she came to herself--which was not for days--she +manifested the greatest desire to proclaim her act and assume its +responsibility. But I would not have it. I loved her too dearly to see +her name bandied about in the papers; and when her father was taken into +our confidence, he was equally peremptory in enjoining silence, and +shared with me the watch I now felt bound to keep over her movements. + +But alas! His was the peremptoriness of pride rather than love. John +Poindexter has no more heart for his daughter than he had for his wife +or that long-forgotten child from whose grave this tragedy has sprung. +Had Felix triumphed he would never have wrung the heart of this man. As +he once said, when a man cares for nothing and nobody, not even for +himself, it is useless to curse him. + +As for Felix himself, judge him not, when you realize, as you now must, +that his last conscious act was to reach for and put in his mouth the +paper which connected Eva with his death. At the moment of death his +thought was to save, not to avenge. And this after her hand had struck +him. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +ANSWERED. + + +A silence more or less surcharged with emotion followed this final +appeal. Then, while the various auditors of this remarkable history +whispered together and Thomas Adams turned in love and anxiety toward +his wife, the inspector handed back to Mr. Gryce the memorandum he had +received from him. + +It presented the following appearance: + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +1. Why a woman who was calm enough to stop and arrange her hair during +the beginning of an interview should be wrought up to such a pitch of +frenzy and exasperation before it was over as to kill with her own hand +a man she had evidently had no previous grudge against. (Remember the +comb found on the floor of Mr. Adams's bedroom.) + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +2. What was the meaning of the following words, written just previous to +this interview by the man thus killed: "I return you your daughter. +Neither you nor she will ever see me again. Remember Evelyn!" + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +3. Why was the pronoun "I" used in this communication? What position did +Mr. Felix Adams hold toward this young girl qualifying him to make use +of such language after her marriage to his brother? + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +4. And having used it, why did he, upon being attacked by her, attempt +to swallow the paper upon which he had written these words, actually +dying with it clinched between his teeth? + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +5. If he was killed in anger and died as monsters do (her own word), why +did his face show sorrow rather than hate, and a determination as far as +possible removed from the rush of over-whelming emotions likely to +follow the reception of a mortal blow from the hand of an unexpected +antagonist? + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +6. Why, if he had strength to seize the above-mentioned paper and convey +it to his lips, did he not use that strength in turning on a light +calculated to bring him assistance, instead of leaving blazing the +crimson glow which, according to the code of signals as now understood +by us, means: "Nothing more required just now. Keep away?" + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +7. What was the meaning of the huge steel plate found between the +casings of the doorway, and why did it remain at rest within its socket +at this, the culminating, moment of his life? + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +8. An explanation of how old Poindexter came to appear on the scene so +soon after the event. His words as overheard were: "It is Amos' son, not +Amos!" Did he not know whom he was to meet in this house? Was the +condition of the man lying before him with a cross on his bosom and a +dagger in his heart less of a surprise to him than the personality of +the victim? + +[Sidenote: Not Answered] + +9. Remember the conclusions we have drawn from Bartow's pantomime. Mr. +Adams was killed by a left-handed thrust. Watch for an acknowledgment +that the young woman is left-handed, and do not forget that an +explanation is due why for so long a time she held her other arm +stretched out behind her. + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +10. Why did the bird whose chief cry is "Remember Evelyn!" sometimes +vary it with "Poor Eva! Lovely Eva! Who would strike Eva?" The story of +this tragedy, to be true, must show that Mr. Adams knew his brother's +bride both long and well. + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +11. If Bartow is, as we think, innocent of all connection with this +crime save as witness, why does he show such joy at its result? This may +not reasonably be expected to fall within the scope of Thomas Adams's +confession, but it should not be ignored by us. This deaf-and-dumb +servitor was driven mad by the fact which caused him joy. Why?[2] + +[Footnote 2: It must be remembered that the scraps of writing in Felix's +hand had not yet been found by the police. The allusions in them to +Bartow show him to have been possessed by a jealousy which probably +turned to delight when he saw his master smitten down by the object of +that master's love and his own hatred. How he came to recognize in the +bride of another man the owner of the name he so often saw hovering on +the lips of his master, is a question to be answered by more astute +students of the laws of perception than myself. Probably he spent much +of his time at the loophole on the stairway, studying his master till he +understood his every gesture and expression.] + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +12. Notice the following schedule. It has been drawn up after repeated +experiments with Bartow and the various slides of the strange lamp which +cause so many different lights to shine out in Mr. Adams's study: + + White light--Water wanted. + Green light--Overcoat and hat to be brought. + Blue light--Put back books on shelves. + Violet light--Arrange study for the night. + Yellow light--Watch for next light. + Red light--Nothing wanted; stay away. + +The last was on at the final scene. Note if this fact can be explained +by Mr. Adams's account of the same. + + * * * * * + +Two paragraphs alone lacked complete explanation. The first, No. 9, was +important. The description of the stroke dealt by Mr. Adams's wife did +not account for this peculiar feature in Bartow's pantomime. Consulting +with the inspector, Mr. Gryce finally approached Mr. Adams and inquired +if he had strength to enact before them the blow as he had seen it dealt +by his wife. + +The startled young man looked the question he dared not ask. In common +with others, he knew that Bartow had made some characteristic gestures +in endeavoring to describe this crime, but he did not know what they +were, as this especial bit of information had been carefully held back +by the police. He, therefore, did not respond hastily to the suggestion +made him, but thought intently for a moment before he thrust out his +left hand and caught up some article or other from the inspector's table +and made a lunge with it across his body into an imaginary victim at his +right. Then he consulted the faces about him with inexpressible anxiety. +He found little encouragement in their aspect. + +"You would make your wife out left-handed," suggested Mr. Gryce. "Now I +have been watching her ever since she came into this place, and I have +seen no evidence of this." + +"She is not left-handed, but she thrust with her left hand, because her +right was fast held in mine. I had seized her instinctively as she +bounded forward for the weapon, and the convulsive clutch of our two +hands was not loosed till the horror of her act made her faint, and she +fell away from me to the floor crying: 'Tear down the cross and lay it +on your brother's breast. I would at least see him die the death of a +Christian.'" + +Mr. Gryce glanced at the inspector with an air of great relief. The +mystery of the constrained attitude of the right hand which made +Bartow's pantomime so remarkable was now naturally explained, and taking +up the blue pencil which the inspector had laid down, he wrote, with a +smile, a very decided "answered" across paragraph No. 9. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +LAST WORDS. + + +A few minutes later Mr. Gryce was to be seen in the outer room, gazing +curiously at the various persons there collected. He was seeking an +answer to a question that was still disturbing his mind, and hoped to +find it there. He was not disappointed. For in a quiet corner he +encountered the amiable form of Miss Butterworth, calmly awaiting the +result of an interference which she in all probability had been an +active agent in bringing about. + +He approached and smilingly accused her of this. But she disclaimed the +fact with some heat. + +"I was simply there," she explained. "When the crisis came, when this +young creature learned that her husband had left suddenly for New York +in the company of two men, then--why then, it became apparent to every +one that a woman should be at her side who understood her case and the +extremity in which she found herself. And I was that woman." + +"You are always that woman," he gallantly replied, "if by the phrase you +mean being in the right place at the right time. So you are already +acquainted with Mrs. Adams's story?" + +"Yes; the ravings of a moment told me she was the one who had handled +the dagger that slew Mr. Adams. Afterward, she was able to explain the +cause of what has seemed to us such a horrible crime. When I heard her +story, Mr. Gryce, I no longer hesitated either as to her duty or mine. +Do you think she will be called upon to answer for this blow? Will she +be tried, convicted?" + +"Madam, there are not twelve men in the city so devoid of intelligence +as to apply the name of crime to an act which was so evidently one of +self-defence. No true bill will be found against young Mrs. Adams. Rest +easy." + +The look of gloom disappeared from Miss Butterworth's eyes. + +"Then I may return home in peace," she cried. "It has been a desperate +five hours for me, and I feel well shaken up. Will you escort me to my +carriage?" + +Miss Butterworth did not look shaken up. Indeed, in Mr. Gryce's +judgment, she had never appeared more serene or more comfortable. But +she was certainly the best judge of her own condition; and after +satisfying herself that the object of her care was reviving under the +solicitous ministrations of her husband, she took the arm which Mr. +Gryce held out to her and proceeded to her carriage. + +As he assisted her in, he asked a few questions about Mr. Poindexter. + +"Why is not Mrs. Adams's father here? Did he allow his daughter to leave +him on such an errand as this without offering to accompany her?" + +The answer was curtness itself: + +"Mr. Poindexter is a man without heart. He came with us to New York, but +refused to follow us to Police Headquarters. Sir, you will find that the +united passions of three burning souls, and a revenge the most deeply +cherished of any I ever knew or heard of, have been thrown away on a man +who is positively unable to suffer. Do not mention old John Poindexter +to me. And now, if you will be so good, tell the coachman to drive me to +my home in Gramercy Park. I have put my finger in the police pie for the +last time, Mr. Gryce--positively for the last time." And she sank back +on the carriage cushions with an inexorable look, which, nevertheless, +did not quite conceal a quiet complacency which argued that she was not +altogether dissatisfied with herself or the result of her interference +in matters usually considered at variance with a refined woman's natural +instincts. + +Mr. Gryce, in repressing a smile, bowed lower even than his wont, and, +under the shadow of this bow, the carriage drove off. As he walked +slowly back, he sighed. Was he wondering if a case of similar interest +would ever bring them together again in consultation? + + +THE END. + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Circular Study, by Anna Katharine Green + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CIRCULAR STUDY *** + +***** This file should be named 18761-8.txt or 18761-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/7/6/18761/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Circular Study + +Author: Anna Katharine Green + +Release Date: July 5, 2006 [EBook #18761] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CIRCULAR STUDY *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/cover.jpg"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/></a> +</div> + +<h1>THE CIRCULAR STUDY</h1> + +<h2>BY ANNA KATHARINE GREEN</h2> + +<h4>DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY<br /> +GARDEN CITY NEW YORK<br /> +1914</h4> +<h4><i>Copyright, 1900, by</i><br /> +<span class="smcap">Anna Katharine Green Rohlfs</span></h4> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h3>CONTENTS.</h3> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#BOOK_I">BOOK I.—A STRANGE CRIME.</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.—<span class="smcap">Red Light</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.—<span class="smcap">Mysteries</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.—<span class="smcap">The Mute Servitor</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.—<span class="smcap">A New Experience for Mr. Gryce</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.—<span class="smcap">Five Small Spangles</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.—<span class="smcap">Suggestions From an Old Friend</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.—<span class="smcap">Amos's Son</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.—<span class="smcap">In the Round of the Staircase</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.—<span class="smcap">High and Low</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X.—<span class="smcap">Bride Roses</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.—<span class="smcap">Misery</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII.—<span class="smcap">Thomas Explains</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII.—<span class="smcap">Despair</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV.—<span class="smcap">Memoranda</span></a><br /><br /> +<a href="#BOOK_II">BOOK II.—REMEMBER EVELYN.</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_Ia">CHAPTER I.—<span class="smcap">The Secret of the Cadwaladers</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IIa">CHAPTER II.—<span class="smcap">The Oath</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IIIa">CHAPTER III.—<span class="smcap">Eva</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IVa">CHAPTER IV.—<span class="smcap">Felix</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_Va">CHAPTER V.—<span class="smcap">Why the Iron Slide Remained Stationary</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIa">CHAPTER VI.—<span class="smcap">Answered</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIIa">CHAPTER VII.—<span class="smcap">Last Words</span></a> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOOK_I" id="BOOK_I"></a>BOOK I</h2> + +<h3>A STRANGE CRIME</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>RED LIGHT.</h3> + + +<p>Mr. Gryce was melancholy. He had attained that period in life when the +spirits flag and enthusiasm needs a constant spur, and of late there had +been a lack of special excitement, and he felt dull and superannuated. +He was even contemplating resigning his position on the force and +retiring to the little farm he had bought for himself in Westchester; +and this in itself did not tend to cheerfulness, for he was one to whom +action was a necessity and the exercise of his mental faculties more +inspiring than any possible advantage which might accrue to him from +their use.</p> + +<p>But he was not destined to carry out this impulse yet. For just at the +height of his secret dissatisfaction there came a telephone message to +Headquarters which roused the old man to something like his former vigor +and gave to the close of this gray fall day an interest he had not +expected to feel again in this or any other kind of day. It was sent +from Carter's well-known drug store, and was to the effect that a lady +had just sent a boy in from the street to say that a strange crime had +been committed in ——'s mansion round the corner. The boy did not know +the lady, and was shy about showing the money she had given him, but +that he had money was very evident, also, that he was frightened enough +for his story to be true. If the police wished to communicate with him, +he could be found at Carter's, where he would be detained till an order +for his release should be received.</p> + +<p>A <i>strange</i> crime! That word "strange" struck Mr. Gryce, and made him +forget his years in wondering what it meant. Meanwhile the men about him +exchanged remarks upon the house brought thus unexpectedly to their +notice. As it was one of the few remaining landmarks of the preceding +century, and had been made conspicuous moreover by the shops, +club-houses, and restaurants pressing against it on either side, it had +been a marked spot for years even to those who knew nothing of its +history or traditions.</p> + +<p>And now a crime had taken place in it! Mr. Gryce, in whose ears that +word "strange" rang with quiet insistence, had but to catch the eye of +the inspector in charge to receive an order to investigate the affair. +He started at once, and proceeded first to the drug store. There he +found the boy, whom he took along with him to the house indicated in the +message. On the way he made him talk, but there was nothing the poor +waif could add to the story already sent over the telephone. He +persisted in saying that a lady (he did not say woman) had come up to +him while he was looking at some toys in a window, and, giving him a +piece of money, had drawn him along the street as far as the drug store. +Here she showed him another coin, promising to add it to the one he had +already pocketed if he would run in to the telephone clerk with a +message for the police. He wanted the money, and when he grabbed at it +she said that all he had to do was to tell the clerk that a strange +crime had been committed in the old house on —— Street. This scared +him, and he was sliding off, when she caught him again and shook him +until his wits came back, after which he ran into the store and +delivered the message.</p> + +<p>There was candor in the boy's tone, and Mr. Gryce was disposed to +believe him; but when he was asked to describe the lady, he showed that +his powers of observation were no better than those of most of his +class. All he could say was that she was a stunner, and wore shiny +clothes and jewels, and Mr. Gryce, recognizing the lad's limitations at +the very moment he found himself in view of the house he was making for, +ceased to question him, and directed all his attention to the building +he was approaching.</p> + +<p>Nothing in the exterior bespoke crime or even disturbance. A shut door, +a clean stoop, heavily curtained windows (some of which were further +shielded by closely drawn shades) were eloquent of inner quiet and +domestic respectability, while its calm front of brick, with brownstone +trimmings, offered a pleasing contrast to the adjoining buildings +jutting out on either side, alive with signs and humming with business.</p> + +<p>"Some mistake," muttered Gryce to himself, as the perfect calm reigning +over the whole establishment struck him anew. But before he had decided +that he had been made the victim of a hoax, a movement took place in the +area under the stoop, and an officer stepped out, with a countenance +expressive of sufficient perplexity for Mr. Gryce to motion him back +with the hurried inquiry: "Anything wrong? Any blood shed? All seems +quiet here."</p> + +<p>The officer, recognizing the old detective, touched his hat. "Can't get +in," said he. "Have rung all the bells. Would think the house empty if I +had not seen something like a stir in one of the windows overhead. Shall +I try to make my way into the rear yard through one of the lower windows +of Knapp & Co.'s store, next door?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and take this boy with you. Lock him up in some one of their +offices, and then break your way into this house by some means. It ought +to be easy enough from the back yard."</p> + +<p>The officer nodded, took the boy by the arm, and in a trice had +disappeared with him into the adjoining store. Mr. Gryce remained in the +area, where he was presently besieged by a crowd of passers-by, eager to +add their curiosity to the trouble they had so quickly scented. The +opening of the door from the inside speedily put an end to importunities +for which he had as yet no reply, and he was enabled to slip within, +where he found himself in a place of almost absolute quiet. Before him +lay a basement hall leading to a kitchen, which, even at that moment, he +noticed to be in trimmer condition than is usual where much housework is +done, but he saw nothing that bespoke tragedy, or even a break in the +ordinary routine of life as observed in houses of like size and +pretension.</p> + +<p>Satisfied that what he sought was not to be found here, he followed the +officer upstairs. As they emerged upon the parlor floor, the latter +dropped the following information:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Raffner of the firm next door says that the man who lives here is +an odd sort of person whom nobody knows; a bookworm, I think they call +him. He has occupied the house six months, yet they have never seen any +one about the premise but himself and a strange old servant as peculiar +and uncommunicative as his master."</p> + +<p>"I know," muttered Mr. Gryce. He did know, everybody knew, that this +house, once the seat of one of New York's most aristocratic families, +was inhabited at present by a Mr. Adams, noted alike for his more than +common personal attractions, his wealth, and the uncongenial nature of +his temperament, which precluded all association with his kind. It was +this knowledge which had given zest to this investigation. To enter the +house of such a man was an event in itself: to enter it on an errand of +life and death—Well, it is under the inspiration of such opportunities +that life is reawakened in old veins, especially when those veins +connect the heart and brain of a sagacious, if octogenarian, detective.</p> + +<p>The hall in which they now found themselves was wide, old-fashioned, and +sparsely furnished in the ancient manner to be observed in such +time-honored structures. Two doors led into this hall, both of which now +stood open. Taking advantage of this fact, they entered the nearest, +which was nearly opposite the top of the staircase they had just +ascended, and found themselves in a room barren as a doctor's outer +office. There was nothing here worth their attention, and they would +have left the place as unceremoniously as they had entered it if they +had not caught glimpses of richness which promised an interior of +uncommon elegance, behind the half-drawn folds of a portière at the +further end of the room.</p> + +<p>Advancing through the doorway thus indicated, they took one look about +them and stood appalled. Nothing in their experience (and they had both +experienced much) had prepared them for the thrilling, the solemn nature +of what they were here called upon to contemplate.</p> + +<p>Shall I attempt its description?</p> + +<p>A room small and of circular shape, hung with strange tapestries +relieved here and there by priceless curios, and lit, although it was +still daylight, by a jet of rose-colored light concentrated, not on the +rows and rows of books around the lower portion of the room, or on the +one great picture which at another time might have drawn the eye and +held the attention, but on the upturned face of a man lying on a +bearskin rug with a dagger in his heart and on his breast a cross whose +golden lines, sharply outlined against his long, dark, swathing garment, +gave him the appearance of a saint prepared in some holy place for +burial, save that the dagger spoke of violent death, and his face of an +anguish for which Mr. Gryce, notwithstanding his lifelong experience, +found no name, so little did it answer to a sensation of fear, pain, or +surprise, or any of the emotions usually visible on the countenances of +such as have fallen under the unexpected stroke of an assassin.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>MYSTERIES.</h3> + + +<p>A moment of indecision, of awe even, elapsed before Mr. Gryce recovered +himself. The dim light, the awesome silence, the unexpected surroundings +recalling a romantic age, the motionless figure of him who so lately had +been the master of the house, lying outstretched as for the tomb, with +the sacred symbol on his breast offering such violent contradiction to +the earthly passion which had driven the dagger home, were enough to +move even the tried spirit of this old officer of the law and confuse a +mind which, in the years of his long connection with the force, had had +many serious problems to work upon, but never one just like this.</p> + +<p>It was only for a moment, though. Before the man behind him had given +utterance to his own bewilderment and surprise, Mr. Gryce had passed in +and taken his stand by the prostrate figure.</p> + +<p>That it was that of a man who had long since ceased to breathe he could +not for a moment doubt; yet his first act was to make sure of the fact +by laying his hand on the pulse and examining the eyes, whose expression +of reproach was such that he had to call up all his professional +sangfroid to meet them.</p> + +<p>He found the body still warm, but dead beyond all question, and, once +convinced of this, he forbore to draw the dagger from the wound, though +he did not fail to give it the most careful attention before turning his +eyes elsewhere. It was no ordinary weapon. It was a curio from some +oriental shop. This in itself seemed to point to suicide, but the +direction in which the blade had entered the body and the position of +the wound were not such as would be looked for in a case of self-murder.</p> + +<p>The other clews were few. Though the scene had been one of bloodshed and +death, the undoubted result of a sudden and fierce attack, there were no +signs of struggle to be found in the well-ordered apartment. Beyond a +few rose leaves scattered on the floor, the room was a scene of peace +and quiet luxury. Even the large table which occupied the centre of the +room and near which the master of the house had been standing when +struck gave no token of the tragedy which had been enacted at its side. +That is, not at first glance; for though its large top was covered with +articles of use and ornament, they all stood undisturbed and presumably +in place, as if the shock which had laid their owner low had failed to +be communicated to his belongings.</p> + +<p>The contents of the table were various. Only a man of complex tastes and +attainments could have collected and arranged in one small compass +pipes, pens, portraits, weights, measures, Roman lamps, Venetian glass, +rare porcelains, medals, rough metal work, manuscript, a scroll of +music, a pot of growing flowers, and—and—(this seemed oddest of all) a +row of electric buttons, which Mr. Gryce no sooner touched than the +light which had been burning redly in the cage of fretted ironwork +overhead changed in a twinkling to a greenish glare, filling the room +with such ghastly tints that Mr. Gryce sought in haste another button, +and, pressing it, was glad to see a mild white radiance take the place +of the sickly hue which had added its own horror to the already solemn +terrors of the spot.</p> + +<p>"Childish tricks for a man of his age and position," ruminated Mr. +Gryce; but after catching another glimpse of the face lying upturned at +his feet he was conscious of a doubt as to whether the owner of that +countenance could have possessed an instinct which was in any wise +childish, so strong and purposeful were his sharply cut features. +Indeed, the face was one to make an impression under any circumstances. +In the present instance, and with such an expression stamped upon it, it +exerted a fascination which disturbed the current of the detective's +thoughts whenever by any chance he allowed it to get between him and his +duty. To attribute folly to a man with such a mouth and such a chin was +to own one's self a poor judge of human nature. Therefore, the lamp +overhead, with its electric connection and changing slides, had a +meaning which at present could be sought for only in the evidences of +scientific research observable in the books and apparatus everywhere +surrounding him.</p> + +<p>Letting the white light burn on, Mr. Gryce, by a characteristic effort, +shifted his attention to the walls, covered, as I have said, with +tapestries and curios. There was nothing on them calculated to aid him +in his research into the secret of this crime, unless—yes, there <i>was</i> +something, a bent-down nail, wrenched from its place, the nail on which +the cross had hung which now lay upon the dead man's heart. The cord by +which it had been suspended still clung to the cross and mingled its red +threads with that other scarlet thread which had gone to meet it from +the victim's wounded breast. Who had torn down that cross? Not the +victim himself. With such a wound, any such movement would have been +impossible. Besides, the nail and the empty place on the wall were as +far removed from where he lay as was possible in the somewhat +circumscribed area of this circular apartment. Another's hand, then, had +pulled down this symbol of peace and pardon, and placed it where the +dying man's fleeting breath would play across it, a peculiar exhibition +of religious hope or mad remorse, to the significance of which Mr. Gryce +could not devote more than a passing thought, so golden were the moments +in which he found himself alone upon this scene of crime.</p> + +<p>Behind the table and half-way up the wall was a picture, the only large +picture in the room. It was the portrait of a young girl of an extremely +interesting and pathetic beauty. From her garb and the arrangement of +her hair, it had evidently been painted about the end of our civil war. +In it was to be observed the same haunting quality of intellectual charm +visible in the man lying prone upon the floor, and though she was fair +and he dark, there was sufficient likeness between the two to argue some +sort of relationship between them. Below this picture were fastened a +sword, a pair of epaulettes, and a medal such as was awarded for valor +in the civil war.</p> + +<p>"Mementoes which may help us in our task," mused the detective.</p> + +<p>Passing on, he came unexpectedly upon a narrow curtain, so dark of hue +and so akin in pattern to the draperies on the adjoining walls that it +had up to this time escaped his attention. It was not that of a window, +for such windows as were to be seen in this unique apartment were high +upon the wall, indeed, almost under the ceiling. It must, therefore, +drape the opening into still another communicating room. And such he +found to be the case. Pushing this curtain aside, he entered a narrow +closet containing a bed, a dresser, and a small table. The bed was the +narrow cot of a bachelor, and the dresser that of a man of luxurious +tastes and the utmost nicety of habit. Both the bed and dresser were in +perfect order, save for a silver-backed comb, which had been taken from +the latter, and which he presently found lying on the floor at the other +end of the room. This and the presence of a pearl-handled parasol on a +small stand near the door proclaimed that a woman had been there within +a short space of time. The identity of this woman was soon established +in his eyes by a small but unmistakable token connecting her with the +one who had been the means of sending in the alarm to the police. The +token of which I speak was a little black spangle, called by milliners +and mantua-makers a sequin, which lay on the threshold separating this +room from the study; and as Mr. Gryce, attracted by its sparkle, stooped +to examine it, his eye caught sight of a similar one on the floor +beyond, and of still another a few steps farther on. The last one lay +close to the large centre-table before which he had just been standing.</p> + +<p>The dainty trail formed by these bright sparkling drops seemed to affect +him oddly. He knew, minute observer that he was, that in the manufacture +of this garniture the spangles are strung on a thread which, if once +broken, allows them to drop away one by one, till you can almost follow +a woman so arrayed by the sequins that fall from her. Perhaps it was the +delicate nature of the clew thus offered that pleased him, perhaps it +was a recognition of the irony of fate in thus making a trap for unwary +mortals out of their vanities. Whatever it was, the smile with which he +turned his eye upon the table toward which he had thus been led was very +eloquent. But before examining this article of furniture more closely, +he attempted to find out where the thread had become loosened which had +let the spangles fall. Had it caught on any projection in doorway or +furniture? He saw none. All the chairs were cushioned and—But wait! +there was the cross! That had a fretwork of gold at its base. Might not +this filagree have caught in her dress as she was tearing down the cross +from the wall and so have started the thread which had given him this +exquisite clew?</p> + +<p>Hastening to the spot where the cross had hung, he searched the floor at +his feet, but found nothing to confirm his conjecture until he had +reached the rug on which the prostrate man lay. There, amid the long +hairs of the bearskin, he came upon one other spangle, and knew that the +woman in the shiny clothes had stooped there before him.</p> + +<p>Satisfied on this point, he returned to the table, and this time +subjected it to a thorough and minute examination. That the result was +not entirely unsatisfactory was evident from the smile with which he +eyed his finger after having drawn it across a certain spot near the +inkstand, and also from the care with which he lifted that inkstand and +replaced it in precisely the same spot from which he had taken it up. +Had he expected to find something concealed under it? Who can tell? A +detective's face seldom yields up its secrets.</p> + +<p>He was musing quite intently before this table when a quick step behind +him made him turn. Styles, the officer, having now been over the house, +had returned, and was standing before him in the attitude of one who has +something to say.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked Mr. Gryce, with a quick movement in his direction.</p> + +<p>For answer the officer pointed to the staircase visible through the +antechamber door.</p> + +<p>"Go up!" was indicated by his gesture.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce demurred, casting a glance around the room, which at that +moment interested him so deeply. At this the man showed some excitement, +and, breaking silence, said:</p> + +<p>"Come! I have lighted on the guilty party. He is in a room upstairs."</p> + +<p>"He?" Mr. Gryce was evidently surprised at the pronoun.</p> + +<p>"Yes; there can be no doubt about it. When you see him—but what is +that? Is he coming down? I'm sure there's nobody else in the house. +Don't you hear footsteps, sir?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce nodded. Some one was certainly descending the stairs.</p> + +<p>"Let us retreat," suggested Styles. "Not because the man is dangerous, +but because it is very necessary you should see him before he sees you. +He's a very strange-acting man, sir; and if he comes in here, will be +sure to do something to incriminate himself. Where can we hide?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce remembered the little room he had just left, and drew the +officer toward it. Once installed inside, he let the curtain drop till +only a small loophole remained. The steps, which had been gradually +growing louder, kept advancing; and presently they could hear the +intruder's breathing, which was both quick and labored.</p> + +<p>"Does he know that any one has entered the house? Did he see you when +you came upon him upstairs?" whispered Mr. Gryce into the ear of the man +beside him.</p> + +<p>Styles shook his head, and pointed eagerly toward the opposite door. The +man for whose appearance they waited had just lifted the portière and in +another moment stood in full view just inside the threshold.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce and his attendant colleague both stared. Was this the +murderer? This pale, lean servitor, with a tray in his hand on which +rested a single glass of water?</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce was so astonished that he looked at Styles for explanation. +But that officer, hiding his own surprise, for he had not expected this +peaceful figure, urged him in a whisper to have patience, and both, +turning toward the man again, beheld him advance, stop, cast one look at +the figure lying on the floor and then let slip the glass with a low cry +that at once changed to something like a howl.</p> + +<p>"Look at him! Look at him!" urged Styles, in a hurried whisper. "Watch +what he will do now. You will see a murderer at work."</p> + +<p>And sure enough, in another instant this strange being, losing all +semblance to his former self, entered upon a series of pantomimic +actions which to the two men who watched him seemed both to explain and +illustrate the crime which had just been enacted there.</p> + +<p>With every appearance of passion, he stood contemplating the empty air +before him, and then, with one hand held stretched out behind him in a +peculiarly cramped position, he plunged with the other toward a table +from which he made a feint of snatching something which he no sooner +closed his hand upon than he gave a quick side-thrust, still at the +empty air, which seemed to quiver in return, so vigorous was his action +and so evident his intent.</p> + +<p>The reaction following this thrust; the slow unclosing of his hand from +an imaginary dagger; the tottering of his body backward; then the moment +when with wide open eyes he seemed to contemplate in horror the result +of his own deed;—these needed no explanation beyond what was given by +his writhing features and trembling body. Gradually succumbing to the +remorse or terror of his own crime, he sank lower and lower, until, +though with that one arm still stretched out, he lay in an inert heap on +the floor.</p> + +<p>"It is what I saw him do upstairs," murmured Styles into the ear of the +amazed detective. "He has evidently been driven insane by his own act."</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce made no answer. Here was a problem for the solution of which +he found no precedent in all his past experience.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>THE MUTE SERVITOR.</h3> + + +<p>Meanwhile the man who, to all appearance, had just re-enacted before +them the tragedy which had so lately taken place in this room, rose to +his feet, and, with a dazed air as unlike his former violent expression +as possible, stooped for the glass he had let fall, and was carrying it +out when Mr. Gryce called to him:</p> + +<p>"Wait, man! You needn't take that glass away. We first want to hear how +your master comes to be lying here dead."</p> + +<p>It was a demand calculated to startle any man. But this one showed +himself totally unmoved by it, and was passing on when Styles laid a +detaining hand on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Stop!" said he. "What do you mean by sliding off like this? Don't you +hear the gentleman speaking to you?"</p> + +<p>This time the appeal told. The glass fell again from the man's hand, +mingling its clink (for it struck the floor this time and broke) with +the cry he gave—which was not exactly a cry either, but an odd sound +between a moan and a shriek. He had caught sight of the men who were +seeking to detain him, and his haggard look and cringing form showed +that he realized at last the terrors of his position. Next minute he +sought to escape, but Styles, gripping him more firmly, dragged him back +to where Mr. Gryce stood beside the bearskin rug on which lay the form +of his dead master.</p> + +<p>Instantly, at the sight of this recumbent figure, another change took +place in the entrapped butler. Joy—that most hellish of passions in the +presence of violence and death—illumined his wandering eye and +distorted his mouth; and, seeking no disguise for the satisfaction he +felt, he uttered a low but thrilling laugh, which rang in unholy echo +through the room.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce, moved in spite of himself by an abhorrence which the +irresponsible condition of this man seemed only to emphasize, waited +till the last faint sounds of this diabolical mirth had died away in the +high recesses of the space above. Then, fixing the glittering eye of +this strange creature with his own, which, as we know, so seldom dwelt +upon that of his fellow-beings, he sternly said:</p> + +<p>"There now! Speak! Who killed this man? You were in the house with him, +and should know."</p> + +<p>The butler's lips opened and a string of strange gutturals poured forth, +while with his one disengaged hand (for the other was held to his side +by Styles) he touched his ears and his lips, and violently shook his +head.</p> + +<p>There was but one interpretation to be given to this. The man was deaf +and dumb.</p> + +<p>The shock of this discovery was too much for Styles. His hand fell from +the other's arms, and the man, finding himself free, withdrew to his +former place in the room, where he proceeded to enact again and with +increased vivacity first the killing of and then the mourning for his +master, which but a few moments before had made so suggestive an +impression upon them. This done, he stood waiting, but this time with +that gleam of infernal joy in the depths of his quick, restless eyes +which made his very presence in this room of death seem a sacrilege and +horror.</p> + +<p>Styles could not stand it. "Can't you speak?" he shouted. "Can't you +hear?"</p> + +<p>The man only smiled, an evil and gloating smile, which Mr. Gryce thought +it his duty to cut short.</p> + +<p>"Take him away!" he cried. "Examine him carefully for blood marks. I am +going up to the room where you saw him first. He is too nearly linked to +this crime not to carry some trace of it away with him."</p> + +<p>But for once even this time-tried detective found himself at fault. No +marks were found on the old servant, nor could they discover in the +rooms above any signs by which this one remaining occupant of the house +could be directly associated with the crime which had taken place within +it. Thereupon Mr. Gryce grew very thoughtful and entered upon another +examination of the two rooms which to his mind held all the clews that +would ever be given to this strange crime.</p> + +<p>The result was meagre, and he was just losing himself again in +contemplation of the upturned face, whose fixed mouth and haunting +expression told such a story of suffering and determination, when there +came from the dim recesses above his head a cry, which, forming itself +into two words, rang down with startling clearness in this most +unexpected of appeals:</p> + +<p>"Remember Evelyn!"</p> + +<p>Remember Evelyn! Who was Evelyn? And to whom did this voice belong, in a +house which had already been ransacked in vain for other occupants? It +seemed to come from the roof, and, sure enough, when Mr. Gryce looked up +he saw, swinging in a cage strung up nearly to the top of one of the +windows I have mentioned, an English starling, which, in seeming +recognition of the attention it had drawn upon itself, craned its neck +as Mr. Gryce looked up, and shrieked again, with fiercer insistence than +before:</p> + +<p>"Remember Evelyn!"</p> + +<p>It was the last uncanny touch in a series of uncanny experiences. With +an odd sense of nightmare upon him, Mr. Gryce leaned forward on the +study table in his effort to obtain a better view of this bird, when, +without warning, the white light, which since his last contact with the +electrical apparatus had spread itself through the room, changed again +to green, and he realized that he had unintentionally pressed a button +and thus brought into action another slide in the curious lamp over his +head.</p> + +<p>Annoyed, for these changing hues offered a problem he was as yet too +absorbed in other matters to make any attempt to solve, he left the +vicinity of the table, and was about to leave the room when he heard +Styles's voice rise from the adjoining antechamber, where Styles was +keeping guard over the old butler:</p> + +<p>"Shall I let him go, Mr. Gryce? He seems very uneasy; not dangerous, you +know, but anxious; as if he had forgotten something or recalled some +unfulfilled duty."</p> + +<p>"Yes, let him go," was the detective's quick reply. "Only watch and +follow him. Every movement he makes is of interest. Unconsciously he may +be giving us invaluable clews." And he approached the door to note for +himself what the man might do.</p> + +<p>"Remember Evelyn!" rang out the startling cry from above, as the +detective passed between the curtains. Irresistibly he looked back and +up. To whom was this appeal from a bird's throat so imperatively +addressed? To him or to the man on the floor beneath, whose ears were +forever closed? It might be a matter of little consequence, and it might +be one involving the very secret of this tragedy. But whether important +or not, he could pay no heed to it at this juncture, for the old butler, +coming from the front hall whither he had hurried on being released by +Styles, was at that moment approaching him, carrying in one hand his +master's hat and in the other his master's umbrella.</p> + +<p>Not knowing what this new movement might mean, Mr. Gryce paused where he +was and waited for the man to advance. Seeing this, the mute, to whose +face and bearing had returned the respectful immobility of the trained +servant, handed over the articles he had brought, and then noiselessly, +and with the air of one who had performed an expected service, retreated +to his old place in the antechamber, where he sat down again and fell +almost immediately into his former dazed condition.</p> + +<p>"Humph! mind quite lost, memory uncertain, testimony valueless," were +the dissatisfied reflections of the disappointed detective as he +replaced Mr. Adams's hat and umbrella on the hall rack. "Has he been +brought to this state by the tragedy which has just taken place here, or +is his present insane condition its precursor and cause?" Mr. Gryce +might have found some answer to this question in his own mind if, at +that moment, the fitful clanging of the front door bell, which had +hitherto testified to the impatience of the curious crowd outside, had +not been broken into by an authoritative knock which at once put an end +to all self-communing.</p> + +<p>The coroner, or some equally important person, was at hand, and the +detective's golden hour was over.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>A NEW EXPERIENCE FOR MR. GRYCE.</h3> + + +<p>Mr. Gryce felt himself at a greater disadvantage in his attempt to solve +the mystery of this affair than in any other which he had entered upon +in years. First, the victim had been a solitary man, with no household +save his man-of-all-work, the mute. Secondly, he had lived in a portion +of the city where no neighbors were possible; and he had even lacked, as +it now seemed, any very active friends. Though some hours had elapsed +since his death had been noised abroad, no one had appeared at the door +with inquiries or information. This seemed odd, considering that he had +been for some months a marked figure in this quarter of the town. But, +then, everything about this man was odd, nor would it have been in +keeping with his surroundings and peculiar manner of living for him to +have had the ordinary associations of men of his class.</p> + +<p>This absence of the usual means of eliciting knowledge from the +surrounding people, added to, rather than detracted from, the interest +which Mr. Gryce was bound to feel in the case, and it was with a feeling +of relief that a little before midnight he saw the army of reporters, +medical men, officials, and such others as had followed in the coroner's +wake, file out of the front door and leave him again, for a few hours at +least, master of the situation.</p> + +<p>For there were yet two points which he desired to settle before he took +his own much-needed rest. The first occupied his immediate attention. +Passing before a chair in the hall on which a small boy sat dozing, he +roused him with the remark:</p> + +<p>"Come, Jake, it's time to look lively. I want you to go with me to the +exact place where that lady ran across you to-day."</p> + +<p>The boy, half dead with sleep, looked around him for his hat.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to see my mother first," he pleaded. "She must be done up +about me. I never stayed away so long before."</p> + +<p>"Your mother knows where you are. I sent a message to her hours ago. She +gave a very good report of you, Jake; says you're an obedient lad and +that you never have told her a falsehood."</p> + +<p>"She's a good mother," the boy warmly declared. "I'd be as bad—as bad +as my father was, if I did not treat her well." Here his hand fell on +his cap, which he put on his head.</p> + +<p>"I'm ready," said he.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce at once led the way into the street.</p> + +<p>The hour was late, and only certain portions of the city showed any real +activity. Into one of these thoroughfares they presently came, and +before the darkened window of one of the lesser shops paused, while Jake +pointed out the two stuffed frogs engaged with miniature swords in +mortal combat at which he had been looking when the lady came up and +spoke to him.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce eyed the boy rather than the frogs, though probably the former +would have sworn that his attention had never left that miniature +conflict.</p> + +<p>"Was she a pretty lady?" he asked.</p> + +<p>The boy scratched his head in some perplexity.</p> + +<p>"She made me a good deal afraid of her," he said. "She had very splendid +clothes; oh, gorgeous!" he cried, as if on this question there could be +no doubt.</p> + +<p>"And she was young, and carried a bunch of flowers, and seemed troubled? +What! not young, and carried no flowers—and wasn't even anxious and +trembling?"</p> + +<p>The boy, who had been shaking his head, looked nonplussed.</p> + +<p>"I think as she was what you might call troubled. But she wasn't crying, +and when she spoke to me, she put more feeling into her grip than into +her voice. She just dragged me to the drug-store, sir. If she hadn't +given me money first, I should have wriggled away in spite of her. But I +likes money, sir; I don't get too much of it."</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce by this time was moving on. "Not young," he repeated to +himself. "Some old flame, then, of Mr. Adams; they're apt to be +dangerous, very dangerous, more dangerous than the young ones."</p> + +<p>In front of the drug-store he paused. "Show me where she stood while you +went in."</p> + +<p>The boy pointed out the identical spot. He seemed as eager as the +detective.</p> + +<p>"And was she standing there when you came out?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, sir; she went away while I was inside."</p> + +<p>"Did you see her go? Can you tell me whether she went up street or +down?"</p> + +<p>"I had one eye on her, sir; I was afraid she was coming into the shop +after me, and my arm was too sore for me to want her to clinch hold on +it again. So when she started to go, I took a step nearer, and saw her +move toward the curbstone and hold up her hand. But it wasn't a car she +was after, for none came by for several minutes."</p> + +<p>The fold between Mr. Gryce's eyes perceptibly smoothed out.</p> + +<p>"Then it was some cabman or hack-driver she hailed. Were there any empty +coaches about that you saw?"</p> + +<p>The boy had not noticed. He had reached the limit of his observations, +and no amount of further questioning could elicit anything more from +him. This Mr. Gryce soon saw, and giving him into the charge of one of +his assistants who was on duty at this place, he proceeded back to the +ill-omened house where the tragedy itself had occurred.</p> + +<p>"Any one waiting for me?" he inquired of Styles, who came to the door.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; a young man; name, Hines. Says he's an electrician."</p> + +<p>"That's the man I want. Where is he?"</p> + +<p>"In the parlor, sir."</p> + +<p>"Good! I'll see him. But don't let any one else in. Anybody upstairs?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, all gone. Shall I go up or stay here?"</p> + +<p>"You'd better go up. I'll look after the door."</p> + +<p>Styles nodded, and went toward the stairs, up which he presently +disappeared. Mr. Gryce proceeded to the parlor.</p> + +<p>A dapper young man with an intelligent eye rose to meet him. "You sent +for me," said he.</p> + +<p>The detective nodded, asked a few questions, and seeming satisfied with +the replies he received, led the way into Mr. Adams's study, from which +the body had been removed to an upper room. As they entered, a mild +light greeted them from a candle which, by Mr. Gryce's orders, had been +placed on a small side table near the door. But once in, Mr. Gryce +approached the larger table in the centre of the room, and placing his +hand on one of the buttons before him, asked his companion to be kind +enough to blow out the candle. This he did, leaving the room for a +moment in total darkness. Then with a sudden burst of illumination, a +marvellous glow of a deep violet color shot over the whole room, and the +two men turned and faced each other both with inquiry in their looks, so +unexpected was this theatrical effect to the one, and so inexplicable +its cause and purpose to the other.</p> + +<p>"That is but one slide," remarked Mr. Gryce. "Now I will press another +button, and the color changes to—pink, as you see. This one produces +green, this one white, and this a bilious yellow, which is not becoming +to either of us, I am sure. Now will you examine the connection, and see +if there is anything peculiar about it?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Hines at once set to work. But beyond the fact that the whole +contrivance was the work of an amateur hand, he found nothing strange +about it, except the fact that it worked so well.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce showed disappointment.</p> + +<p>"He made it, then, himself?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Undoubtedly, or some one else equally unacquainted with the latest +method of wiring."</p> + +<p>"Will you look at these books over here and see if sufficient knowledge +can be got from them to enable an amateur to rig up such an arrangement +as this?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Hines glanced at the shelf which Mr. Gryce had pointed out, and +without taking out the books, answered briefly:</p> + +<p>"A man with a deft hand and a scientific turn of mind might, by the aid +of these, do all you see here and more. The aptitude is all."</p> + +<p>"Then I'm afraid Mr. Adams had the aptitude," was the dry response. +There was disappointment in the tone. Why, his next words served to +show. "A man with a turn for mechanical contrivances often wastes much +time and money on useless toys only fit for children to play with. Look +at that bird cage now. Perched at a height totally beyond the reach of +any one without a ladder, it must owe its very evident usefulness (for +you see it holds a rather lively occupant) to some contrivance by which +it can be raised and lowered at will. Where is that contrivance? Can you +find it?"</p> + +<p>The expert thought he could. And, sure enough, after some ineffectual +searching, he came upon another button well hid amid the tapestry on the +wall, which, when pressed, caused something to be disengaged which +gradually lowered the cage within reach of Mr. Gryce's hand.</p> + +<p>"We will not send this poor bird aloft again," said he, detaching the +cage and holding it for a moment in his hand. "An English starling is +none too common in this country. Hark! he is going to speak."</p> + +<p>But the sharp-eyed bird, warned perhaps by the emphatic gesture of the +detective that silence would be more in order at this moment than his +usual appeal to "remember Evelyn," whisked about in his cage for an +instant, and then subsided into a doze, which may have been real, and +may have been assumed under the fascinating eye of the old gentleman who +held him. Mr. Gryce placed the cage on the floor, and idly, or because +the play pleased him, old and staid as he was, pressed another button on +the table—a button he had hitherto neglected touching—and glanced +around to see what color the light would now assume.</p> + +<p>But the yellow glare remained. The investigation which the apparatus had +gone through had probably disarranged the wires. With a shrug he was +moving off, when he suddenly made a hurried gesture, directing the +attention of the expert to a fact for which neither of them was +prepared. The opening which led into the antechamber, and which was the +sole means of communication with the rest of the house, was slowly +closing. From a yard's breadth it became a foot; from a foot it became +an inch; from an inch——</p> + +<p>"Well, that is certainly the contrivance of a lazy man," laughed the +expert. "Seated in his chair here, he can close his door at will. No +shouting after a deaf servant, no awkward stumbling over rugs to shut it +himself. I don't know but I approve of this contrivance, only——" here +he caught a rather serious expression on Mr. Gryce's face—"the slide +seems to be of a somewhat curious construction. It is not made of wood, +as any sensible door ought to be, but of——"</p> + +<p>"Steel," finished Mr. Gryce in an odd tone. "This is the strangest thing +yet. It begins to look as if Mr. Adams was daft on electrical +contrivances."</p> + +<p>"And as if we were prisoners here," supplemented the other. "I do not +see any means for drawing this slide back."</p> + +<p>"Oh, there's another button for that, of course," Mr. Gryce carelessly +remarked.</p> + +<p>But they failed to find one.</p> + +<p>"If you don't object," observed Mr. Gryce, after five minutes of useless +search, "I will turn a more cheerful light upon the scene. Yellow does +not seem to fit the occasion."</p> + +<p>"Give us rose, for unless you have some one on the other side of this +steel plate, we seem likely to remain here till morning."</p> + +<p>"There is a man upstairs whom we may perhaps make hear, but what does +this contrivance portend? It has a serious look to me, when you consider +that every window in these two rooms has been built up almost under the +roof."</p> + +<p>"Yes; a very strange look. But before engaging in its consideration I +should like a breath of fresh air. I cannot do anything while in +confinement. My brain won't work."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Mr. Gryce was engaged in examining the huge plate of steel +which served as a barrier to their egress. He found that it had been +made—certainly at great expense—to fit the curve of the walls through +which it passed. This was a discovery of some consequence, causing Mr. +Gryce to grow still more thoughtful and to eye the smooth steel plate +under his hand with an air of marked distrust.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Adams carried his taste for the mechanical to great extremes," he +remarked to the slightly uneasy man beside him. "This slide is very +carefully fitted, and, if I am not mistaken, it will stand some +battering before we are released."</p> + +<p>"I wish that his interest in electricity had led him to attach such a +simple thing as a bell."</p> + +<p>"True, we have come across no bell."</p> + +<p>"It would have smacked too much of the ordinary to please him."</p> + +<p>"Besides, his only servant was deaf."</p> + +<p>"Try the effect of a blow, a quick blow with this silver-mounted +alpenstock. Some one should hear and come to our assistance."</p> + +<p>"I will try my whistle first; it will be better understood."</p> + +<p>But though Mr. Gryce both whistled and struck many a resounding knock +upon the barrier before them, it was an hour before he could draw the +attention of Styles, and five hours before an opening could be effected +in the wall large enough to admit of their escape, so firmly was this +barrier of steel fixed across the sole outlet from this remarkable room.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>FIVE SMALL SPANGLES.</h3> + + +<p>Such an experience could not fail to emphasize Mr. Gryce's interest in +the case and heighten the determination he had formed to probe its +secrets and explain all its extraordinary features. Arrived at +Headquarters, where his presence was doubtless awaited with some anxiety +by those who knew nothing of the cause of his long detention, his first +act was to inquire if Bartow, the butler, had come to his senses during +the night.</p> + +<p>The answer was disappointing. Not only was there no change in his +condition, but the expert in lunacy who had been called in to pass upon +his case had expressed an opinion unfavorable to his immediate recovery.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce looked sober, and, summoning the officer who had managed +Bartow's arrest, he asked how the mute had acted when he found himself +detained.</p> + +<p>The answer was curt, but very much to the point.</p> + +<p>"Surprised, sir. Shook his head and made some queer gestures, then went +through his pantomime. It's quite a spectacle, sir. Poor fool, he keeps +holding his hand back, so."</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce noted the gesture; it was the same which Bartow had made when +he first realized that he had spectators. Its meaning was not wholly +apparent. He had made it with his right hand (there was no evidence that +the mute was left-handed), and he continued to make it as if with this +movement he expected to call attention to some fact that would relieve +him from custody.</p> + +<p>"Does he mope? Is his expression one of fear or anger?"</p> + +<p>"It varies, sir. One minute he looks like a man on the point of falling +asleep; the next he starts up in fury, shaking his head and pounding the +walls. It's not a comfortable sight, sir. He will have to be watched +night and day."</p> + +<p>"Let him be, and note every change in him. His testimony may not be +valid, but there is suggestion in every movement he makes. To-morrow I +will visit him myself."</p> + +<p>The officer went out, and Mr. Gryce sat for a few moments communing with +himself, during which he took out a little package from his pocket, and +emptying out on his desk the five little spangles it contained, regarded +them intently. He had always been fond of looking at some small and +seemingly insignificant object while thinking. It served to concentrate +his thoughts, no doubt. At all events, some such result appeared to +follow the contemplation of these five sequins, for after shaking his +head doubtfully over them for a time, he made a sudden move, and +sweeping them into the envelope from which he had taken them, he gave a +glance at his watch and passed quickly into the outer office, where he +paused before a line of waiting men. Beckoning to one who had followed +his movements with an interest which had not escaped the eye of this old +reader of human nature, he led the way back to his own room.</p> + +<p>"You want a hand in this matter?" he said interrogatively, as the door +closed behind them and they found themselves alone.</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir—" began the young man in a glow which made his more than plain +features interesting to contemplate, "I do not presume——"</p> + +<p>"Enough!" interposed the other. "You have been here now for six months, +and have had no opportunity as yet for showing any special adaptability. +Now I propose to test your powers with something really difficult. Are +you up to it, Sweetwater? Do you know the city well enough to attempt to +find a needle in this very big haystack?"</p> + +<p>"I should at least like to try," was the eager response. "If I succeed +it will be a bigger feather in my cap than if I had always lived in New +York. I have been spoiling for some such opportunity. See if I don't +make the effort judiciously, if only out of gratitude."</p> + +<p>"Well, we shall see," remarked the old detective. "If it's difficulty +you long to encounter, you will be likely to have all you want of it. +Indeed, it is the impossible I ask. A woman is to be found of whom we +know nothing save that she wore when last seen a dress heavily +bespangled with black, and that she carried in her visit to Mr. Adams, +at the time of or before the murder, a parasol, of which I can procure +you a glimpse before you start out. She came from, I don't know where, +and she went—but that is what you are to find out. You are not the only +man who is to be put on the job, which, as you see, is next door to a +hopeless one, unless the woman comes forward and proclaims herself. +Indeed, I should despair utterly of your success if it were not for one +small fact which I will now proceed to give you as my special and +confidential agent in this matter. When this woman was about to +disappear from the one eye that was watching her, she approached the +curbstone in front of Hudson's fruit store on 14th Street and lifted up +her right hand, so. It is not much of a clew, but it is all I have at my +disposal, except these five spangles dropped from her dress, and my +conviction that she is not to be found among the questionable women of +the town, but among those who seldom or never come under the eye of the +police. Yet don't let this conviction hamper you. Convictions as a rule +are bad things, and act as a hindrance rather than an inspiration."</p> + +<p>Sweetwater, to whom the song of the sirens would have sounded less +sweet, listened with delight and responded with a frank smile and a gay:</p> + +<p>"I'll do my best, sir, but don't show me the parasol, only describe it. +I wouldn't like the fellows to chaff me if I fail; I'd rather go quietly +to work and raise no foolish expectations."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, it is one of those dainty, nonsensical things made of gray +chiffon, with pearl handle and bows of pink ribbon. I don't believe it +was ever used before, and from the value women usually place on such +fol-de-rols, could only have been left behind under the stress of +extraordinary emotion or fear. The name of the owner was not on it."</p> + +<p>"Nor that of the maker?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce had expected this question, and was glad not to be +disappointed.</p> + +<p>"No, that would have helped us too much."</p> + +<p>"And the hour at which this lady was seen on the curbstone at Hudson's?"</p> + +<p>"Half-past four; the moment at which the telephone message arrived."</p> + +<p>"Very good, sir. It is the hardest task I have ever undertaken, but +that's not against it. When shall I see you again?"</p> + +<p>"When you have something to impart. Ah, wait a minute. I have my +suspicion that this woman's first name is Evelyn. But, mind, it is only +a suspicion."</p> + +<p>"All right, sir," and with an air of some confidence, the young man +disappeared.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce did not look as if he shared young Sweetwater's cheerfulness. +The mist surrounding this affair was as yet impenetrable to him. But +then he was not twenty-three, with only triumphant memories behind him.</p> + +<p>His next hope lay in the information likely to accrue from the published +accounts of this crime, now spread broadcast over the country. A man of +Mr. Adams's wealth and culture must necessarily have possessed many +acquaintances, whom the surprising news of his sudden death would +naturally bring to light, especially as no secret was made of his means +and many valuable effects. But as if this affair, destined to be one of +the last to engage the powers of this sagacious old man, refused on this +very account to yield any immediate results to his investigation, the +whole day passed by without the appearance of any claimant for Mr. +Adams's fortune or the arrival on the scene of any friend capable of +lifting the veil which shrouded the life of this strange being. To be +sure, his banker and his lawyer came forward during the day, but they +had little to reveal beyond the fact that his pecuniary affairs were in +good shape and that, so far as they knew, he was without family or kin.</p> + +<p>Even his landlord could add little to the general knowledge. He had +first heard of Mr. Adams through a Philadelphia lawyer, since dead, who +had assured him of his client's respectability and undoubted ability to +pay his rent. When they came together and Mr. Adams was introduced to +him, he had been struck, first, by the ascetic appearance of his +prospective tenant, and, secondly, by his reserved manners and quiet +intelligence. But admirable as he had found him, he had never succeeded +in making his acquaintance. The rent had been uniformly paid with great +exactitude on the very day it was due, but his own visits had never been +encouraged or his advances met by anything but the cold politeness of a +polished and totally indifferent man. Indeed, he had always looked upon +his tenant as a bookworm, absorbed in study and such scientific +experiments as could be carried on with no other assistance than that of +his deaf and dumb servant.</p> + +<p>Asked if he knew anything about this servant, he answered that his +acquaintance with him was limited to the two occasions on which he had +been ushered by him into his master's presence; that he knew nothing of +his character and general disposition, and could not say whether his +attitude toward his master had been one of allegiance or antagonism.</p> + +<p>And so the way was blocked in this direction.</p> + +<p>Taken into the room where Mr. Adams had died, he surveyed in amazement +the huge steel plate which still blocked the doorway, and the high +windows through which only a few straggling sunbeams could find their +way.</p> + +<p>Pointing to the windows, he remarked:</p> + +<p>"These were filled in at Mr. Adams's request. Originally they extended +down to the wainscoting."</p> + +<p>He was shown where lath and plaster had been introduced and also how the +plate had been prepared and arranged as a barrier. But he could give no +explanation of it or divine the purpose for which it had been placed +there at so great an expense.</p> + +<p>The lamp was another curiosity, and its varying lights the cause of +increased astonishment. Indeed he had known nothing of these +arrangements, having been received in the parlor when he visited the +house, where there was nothing to attract his attention or emphasize the +well-known oddities of his tenant.</p> + +<p>He was not shown the starling. That loquacious bird had been removed to +police headquarters for the special delectation of Mr. Gryce.</p> + +<p>Other inquiries failed also. No clew to the owner of the insignia found +on the wall could be gained at the pension office or at any of the G. A. +R. posts inside the city. Nor was the name of the artist who had painted +the portrait which adorned so large a portion of the wall a recognized +one in New York City. Otherwise a clew might have been obtained through +him to Mr. Adams's antecedents. All the drawers and receptacles in Mr. +Adams's study had been searched, but no will had been found nor any +business documents. It was as if this strange man had sought to suppress +his identity, or, rather, as if he had outgrown all interest in his kind +or in anything beyond the walls within which he had immured himself.</p> + +<p>Late in the afternoon reports began to come in from the various +tradesmen with whom Mr. Adams had done business. They all had something +to say as to the peculiarity of his habits and the freaks of his mute +servant. They were both described as hermits, differing from the rest of +their kind only in that they denied themselves no reasonable luxury and +seemed to have adopted a shut-in life from a pure love of seclusion. The +master was never seen at the stores. It was the servant who made the +purchases, and this by means of gestures which were often strangely +significant. Indeed, he seemed to have great power of expressing himself +by looks and actions, and rarely caused a mistake or made one. He would +not endure cheating, and always bought the best.</p> + +<p>Of his sanity up to the day of his master's death there was no question; +but more than one man with whom he had had dealings was ready to testify +that there had been a change in his manner for the past few weeks—a +sort of subdued excitement, quite unlike his former methodical bearing. +He had shown an inclination to testiness, and was less easily pleased +than formerly. To one clerk he had shown a nasty spirit under very +slight provocation, and was only endured in the store on account of his +master, who was too good a customer for them to offend. Mr. Kelly, a +grocer, went so far as to say he acted like a man with a grievance who +burned to vent his spite on some one, but held himself in forcible +restraint.</p> + +<p>Perhaps if no tragedy had taken place in the house on —— Street these +various persons would not have been so ready to interpret thus +unfavorably a nervousness excusable enough in one so cut off from all +communication with his kind. But with the violent end of his master in +view, and his own unexplained connection with it, who could help +recalling that his glance had frequently shown malevolence?</p> + +<p>But this was not evidence of the decided character required by the law, +and Mr. Gryce was about to regard the day as a lost one, when Sweetwater +made his reappearance at Headquarters. The expression of his face put +new life into Mr. Gryce.</p> + +<p>"What!" he cried, "you have not found her?"</p> + +<p>Sweetwater smiled. "Don't ask me, sir, not yet. I've come to see if +there's any reason why I should not be given the loan of that parasol +for about an hour. I'll bring it back. I only want to make a certain +test with it."</p> + +<p>"What test, my boy? May I ask, what test?"</p> + +<p>"Please to excuse me, sir; I have only a short time in which to act +before respectable business houses shut up for the night, and the test I +speak of has to be made in a respectable house."</p> + +<p>"Then you shall not be hindered. Wait here, and I will bring you the +parasol. There! bring it back soon, my boy. I have not the patience I +used to have."</p> + +<p>"An hour, sir; give me an hour, and then——"</p> + +<p>The shutting of the door behind his flying figure cut short his +sentence.</p> + +<p>That was a long hour to Mr. Gryce, or would have been if it had not +mercifully been cut short by the return of Sweetwater in an even more +excited state of mind than he had been before. He held the parasol in +his hand.</p> + +<p>"My test failed," said he, "but the parasol has brought me luck, +notwithstanding. I have found the lady, sir, and——"</p> + +<p>He had to draw a long breath before proceeding.</p> + +<p>"And she is what I said," began the detective; "a respectable person in +a respectable house."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; very respectable, more respectable than I expected to see. +Quite a lady, sir. Not young, but——"</p> + +<p>"Her name, boy. Is it—Evelyn?"</p> + +<p>Sweetwater shook his head with a look as naive in its way as the old +detective's question.</p> + +<p>"I cannot say, sir. Indeed, I had not the courage to ask. She is +here——"</p> + +<p>"Here!" Mr. Gryce took one hurried step toward the door, then came +gravely back. "I can restrain myself," he said. "If she is here, she +will not go till I have seen her. Are you sure you have made no mistake; +that she is the woman we are after; the woman who was in Mr. Adams's +house and sent us the warning?"</p> + +<p>"Will you hear my story, sir? It will take only a moment. Then you can +judge for yourself."</p> + +<p>"Your story? It must be a pretty one. How came you to light on this +woman so soon? By using the clew I gave you?"</p> + +<p>Again Sweetwater's expression took on a touch of naïveté.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, sir; but I was egotistical enough to follow my own idea. It +would have taken too much time to hunt up all the drivers of hacks in +the city, and I could not even be sure she had made use of a public +conveyance. No, sir; I bethought me of another way by which I might +reach this woman. You had shown me those spangles. They were portions of +a very rich trimming; a trimming which has only lately come into vogue, +and which is so expensive that it is worn chiefly by women of means, and +sold only in shops where elaborate garnitures are to be found. I have +seen and noticed dresses thus trimmed, in certain windows and on certain +ladies; and before you showed me the spangles you picked up in Mr. +Adams's study could have told you just how I had seen them arranged. +They are sewed on black net, in figures, sir; in scrolls or wreaths or +whatever you choose to call them; and so conspicuous are these wreaths +or figures, owing to the brilliance of the spangles composing them, that +any break in their continuity is plainly apparent, especially if the net +be worn over a color, as is frequently the case. Remembering this, and +recalling the fact that these spangles doubtless fell from one of the +front breadths, where their loss would attract not only the attention of +others, but that of the wearer, I said to myself, 'What will she be +likely to do when she finds her dress thus disfigured?' And the answer +at once came: 'If she is the lady Mr. Gryce considers her, she will seek +to restore these missing spangles, especially if they were lost on a +scene of crime. But where can she get them to sew on? From an extra +piece of net of the same style. But she will not be apt to have an extra +piece of net. She will, therefore, find herself obliged to buy it, and +since only a few spangles are lacking, she will buy the veriest strip.' +Here, then, was my clew, or at least my ground for action. Going the +rounds of the few leading stores on Broadway, 23d Street, and Sixth +Avenue, I succeeded in getting certain clerks interested in my efforts, +so that I speedily became assured that if a lady came into these stores +for a very small portion of this bespangled net, they would note her +person and, if possible, procure some clew to her address. Then I took +up my stand at Arnold's emporium. Why Arnold's? I do not know. Perhaps +my good genius meant me to be successful in this quest; but whether +through luck or what not, I was successful, for before the afternoon was +half over, I encountered a meaning glance from one of the men behind the +counter, and advancing toward him, saw him rolling a small package which +he handed over to a very pretty and rosy young girl, who at once walked +away with it. 'For one of our leading customers,' he whispered, as I +drew nearer. 'I don't think she is the person you want.' But I would +take no chances. I followed the young girl who had carried away the +parcel, and by this means came to a fine brownstone front in one of our +most retired and aristocratic quarters. When I had seen her go in at the +basement door, I rang the bell above, and then—well, I just bit my lips +to keep down my growing excitement. For such an effort as this might +well end in disappointment, and I knew if I were disappointed now—But +no such trial awaited me. The maid who came to the door proved to be the +same merry-eyed lass I had seen leave the store. Indeed, she had the +identical parcel in her hand which was the connecting link between the +imposing house at whose door I stood and the strange murder in —— +Street. But I did not allow my interest in this parcel to become +apparent, and by the time I addressed her I had so mastered myself as to +arouse no suspicion of the importance of my errand. You, of course, +foresee the question I put to the young girl. 'Has your mistress lost a +parasol? One has been found—' I did not finish the sentence, for I +perceived by her look that her mistress had met with such a loss, and as +this was all I wanted to know just then, I cried out, 'I will bring it. +If it is hers, all right,' and bounded down the steps.</p> + +<p>"My intention was to inform you of what I had done and ask your advice. +But my egotism got the better of me. I felt that I ought to make sure +that I was not the victim of a coincidence. Such a respectable house! +Such a respectable maidservant! Should she recognize the parasol as +belonging to her mistress, then, indeed, I might boast of my success. So +praying you for a loan of this article, I went back and rang the bell +again. The same girl came to the door. I think fortune favored me +to-day. 'Here is the parasol,' said I, but before the words were out of +my mouth I saw that the girl had taken the alarm or that some grievous +mistake had been made. 'That is not the one my mistress lost,' said she. +'She never carries anything but black.' And the door was about to close +between us when I heard a voice from within call out peremptorily: 'Let +me see that parasol. Hold it up, young man. There! at the foot of the +stairs. Ah!'</p> + +<p>"If ever an exclamation was eloquent that simple 'ah!' was. I could not +see the speaker, but I knew she was leaning over the banisters from the +landing above. I listened to hear her glide away. But she did not move. +She was evidently collecting herself for the emergency of the moment. +Presently she spoke again, and I was astonished at her tone: 'You have +come from Police Headquarters,' was the remark with which she hailed me.</p> + +<p>"I lowered the parasol. I did not think it necessary to say yes.</p> + +<p>"'From a man there, called Gryce,' she went on, still in that strange +tone I can hardly describe, sir.</p> + +<p>"'Since you ask me,' I now replied, 'I acknowledge that it is through +his instructions I am here. He was anxious to restore to you your lost +property. Is not this parasol yours? Shall I not leave it with this +young girl?'</p> + +<p>"The answer was dry, almost rasping: 'Mr. Gryce has made a mistake. The +parasol is not mine; yet he certainly deserves credit for the use he has +made of it, in this search. I should like to tell him so. Is he at his +office, and do you think I would be received?'</p> + +<p>"'He would be delighted,' I returned, not imagining she was in earnest. +But she was, sir. In less time than you would believe, I perceived a +very stately, almost severe, lady descend the stairs. She was dressed +for the street, and spoke to me with quite an air of command. 'Have you +a cab?' she asked.</p> + +<p>"'No,' said I.</p> + +<p>"'Then get one.'</p> + +<p>"Here was a dilemma. Should I leave her and thus give her an opportunity +to escape, or should I trust to her integrity and the honesty of her +look, which was no common one, sir, and obey her as every one about her +was evidently accustomed to do?</p> + +<p>"I concluded to trust to her integrity, and went for the cab. But it was +a risk, sir, which I promise not to repeat in the future. She was +awaiting me on the stoop when I got back, and at once entered the hack +with a command to drive immediately to Police Headquarters. I saw her as +I came in just now sitting in the outer office, waiting for you. Are you +ready to say I have done well?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce, with an indescribable look of mingled envy and indulgence, +pressed the hand held out to him, and passed out. His curiosity could be +restrained no longer, and he went at once to where this mysterious woman +was awaiting him. Did he think it odd that she knew him, that she sought +him? If so, he did not betray this in his manner, which was one of great +respect. But that manner suddenly changed as he came face to face with +the lady in question. Not that it lost its respect, but that it betrayed +an astonishment of a more pronounced character than was usually indulged +in by this experienced detective. The lady before him was one well known +to him; in fact, almost an associate of his in certain bygone matters; +in other words, none other than that most reputable of ladies, Miss +Amelia Butterworth of Gramercy Park.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>SUGGESTIONS FROM AN OLD FRIEND.</h3> + + +<p>The look with which this amiable spinster met his eye was one which a +stranger would have found it hard to understand. He found it hard to +understand himself, perhaps because he had never before seen this lady +when she was laboring under an opinion of herself that was not one of +perfect complacency.</p> + +<p>"Miss Butterworth! What does this mean? Have you——"</p> + +<p>"There!" The word came with some sharpness. "You have detected me at my +old tricks, and I am correspondingly ashamed, and you triumphant. The +gray parasol you have been good enough to send to my house is not mine, +but I was in the room where you picked it up, as you have so cleverly +concluded, and as it is useless for me to evade your perspicacity, I +have come here to confess."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" The detective was profoundly interested at once. He drew a chair +up to Miss Butterworth's side and sat down. "You were there!" he +repeated; "and when? I do not presume to ask for what purpose."</p> + +<p>"But I shall have to explain my purpose not to find myself at too great +a disadvantage," she replied with grim decision. "Not that I like to +display my own weakness, but that I recognize the exigencies of the +occasion, and fully appreciate your surprise at finding that I, a +stranger to Mr. Adams, and without the excuse which led to my former +interference in police matters, should have so far forgotten myself as +to be in my present position before you. This was no affair of my +immediate neighbor, nor did it seek me. I sought it, sir, and in this +way. I wish I had gone to Jericho first; it might have meant longer +travel and much more expense; but it would have involved me in less +humiliation and possible publicity. Mr. Gryce, I never meant to be mixed +up with another murder case. I have shown my aptitude for detective work +and received, ere now, certain marks of your approval; but my head was +not turned by them—at least I thought not—and I was tolerably sincere +in my determination to keep to my own <i>metier</i> in future and not suffer +myself to be allured by any inducements you might offer into the +exercise of gifts which may have brought me praise in the past, but +certainly have not brought me happiness. But the temptation came, not +through you, or I might have resisted it, but through a combination of +circumstances which found me weak, and, in a measure, unprepared. In +other words, I was surprised into taking an interest in this affair. Oh, +I am ashamed of it, so ashamed that I have made the greatest endeavor to +hide my participation in the matter, and thinking I had succeeded in +doing so, was congratulating myself upon my precautions, when I found +that parasol thrust in my face and realized that you, if no one else, +knew that Amelia Butterworth had been in Mr. Adams's room of death prior +to yourself. Yet I thought I had left no traces behind me. Could you +have seen——"</p> + +<p>"Miss Butterworth, you dropped five small spangles from your robe. You +wore a dress spangled with black sequins, did you not? Besides, you +moved the inkstand, and—Well, I will never put faith in circumstantial +evidence again. I saw these tokens of a woman's presence, heard what the +boy had to say of the well-dressed lady who had sent him into the +drug-store with a message to the police, and drew the conclusion—I may +admit it to you—that it was this woman who had wielded the assassin's +dagger, and not the deaf-and-dumb butler, who, until now, has borne the +blame of it. Therefore I was anxious to find her, little realizing what +would be the result of my efforts, or that I should have to proffer her +my most humble apologies."</p> + +<p>"Do not apologize to me. I had no business to be there, or, at least, to +leave the five spangles you speak of, behind me on Mr. Adams's miserable +floor. I was simply passing by the house; and had I been the woman I +once was, that is, a woman who had never dipped into a mystery, I should +have continued on my way, instead of turning aside. Sir, it's a curious +sensation to find yourself, however innocent, regarded by a whole city +full of people as the cause or motive of a terrible murder, especially +when you have spent some time, as I have, in the study of crime and the +pursuit of criminals. I own I don't enjoy the experience. But I have +brought it on myself. If I had not been so curious—But it was not +curiosity I felt. I will never own that I am subject to mere curiosity; +it was the look on the young man's face. But I forget myself. I am +rambling in all directions when I ought to be telling a consecutive +tale. Not my usual habit, sir; this you know; but I am not quite myself +at this moment. I declare I am more upset by this discovery of my +indiscretion than I was by Mr. Trohm's declaration of affection in Lost +Man's Lane! Give me time, Mr. Gryce; in a few minutes I will be more +coherent."</p> + +<p>"I am giving you time," he returned with one of his lowest bows. "The +half-dozen questions I long to ask have not yet left my lips, and I sit +here, as you must yourself acknowledge, a monument of patience."</p> + +<p>"So you thought this deed perpetrated by an outsider," she suddenly +broke in. "Most of the journals—I read them very carefully this +morning—ascribed the crime to the man you have mentioned. And there +seems to be good reason for doing so. The case is not a simple one, Mr. +Gryce; it has complications—I recognized that at once, and that is +why—but I won't waste another moment in apologies. You have a right to +any little fact I may have picked up in my unfortunate visit, and there +is one which I failed to find included in any account of the murder. Mr. +Adams had other visitors besides myself in those few fatal minutes +preceding his death. A young man and woman were with him. I saw them +come out of the house. It was at the moment I was passing——"</p> + +<p>"Tell your story more simply, Miss Butterworth. What first drew your +attention to the house?"</p> + +<p>"There! That is the second time you have had to remind me to be more +direct. You will not have to do so again, Mr. Gryce. To begin, then, I +noticed the house, because I always notice it. I never pass it without +giving a thought to its ancient history and indulging in more or less +speculation as to its present inmates. When, therefore, I found myself +in front of it yesterday afternoon on my way to the art exhibition, I +naturally looked up, and—whether by an act of providence or not, I +cannot say—it was precisely at that instant the inner door of the +vestibule burst open, and a young man appeared in the hall, carrying a +young woman in his arms. He seemed to be in a state of intense +excitement, and she in a dead faint; but before they had attracted the +attention of the crowd, he had placed her on her feet, and, taking her +on his arm, dragged her down the stoop and into the crowd of passers-by, +among whom they presently disappeared. I, as you may believe, stood +rooted to the ground in my astonishment, and not only endeavored to see +in what direction they went, but lingered long enough to take a peep +into the time-honored interior of this old house, which had been left +open to view by the young man's forgetting to close the front door +behind him. As I did so, I heard a cry from within. It was muffled and +remote, but unmistakably one of terror and anguish: and, led by an +impulse I may live to regret, as it seems likely to plunge me into much +unpleasantness, I rushed up the stoop and went in, shutting the door +behind me, lest others should be induced to follow.</p> + +<p>"So far, I had acted solely from instinct; but once in that semi-dark +hall, I paused and asked what business I had there, and what excuse I +should give for my intrusion if I encountered one or more of the +occupants of the house. But a repetition of the cry, coming as I am +ready to swear from the farthest room on the parlor floor, together with +a sharp remembrance of the wandering eye and drawn countenance of the +young man whom I had seen stagger hence a moment before, with an almost +fainting woman in his arms, drew me on in spite of my feminine +instincts; and before I knew it, I was in the circular study and before +the prostrate form of a seemingly dying man. He was lying as you +probably found him a little later, with the cross on his breast and a +dagger in his heart; but his right hand was trembling, and when I +stooped to lift his head, he gave a shudder and then settled into +eternal stillness. I, a stranger from the street, had witnessed his last +breath while the young man who had gone out——"</p> + +<p>"Can you describe him? Did you encounter him close enough for +recognition?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think I would know him again. I can at least describe his +appearance. He wore a checked suit, very natty, and was more than +usually tall and fine-looking. But his chief peculiarity lay in his +expression. I never saw on any face, no, not on the stage, at the climax +of the most heart-rending tragedy, a greater accumulation of mortal +passion struggling with the imperative necessity for restraint. The +young girl whose blond head lay on his shoulder looked like a saint in +the clutch of a demon. She had seen death, but he—But I prefer not to +be the interpreter of that expressive countenance. It was lost to my +view almost immediately, and probably calmed itself in the face of the +throng he entered, or we would be hearing about him to-day. The girl +seemed to be devoid of almost all feeling. I should not remember her."</p> + +<p>"And was that all? Did you just look at that recumbent man and vanish? +Didn't you encounter the butler? Haven't you some definite knowledge to +impart in his regard which will settle his innocence or fix his guilt?"</p> + +<p>"I know no more about him than you do, sir, except that he was not in +the room by the time I reached it, and did not come into it during my +presence there. Yet it was his cry that led me to the spot; or do you +think it was that of the bird I afterward heard shouting and screaming +in the cage over the dead man's head?"</p> + +<p>"It might have been the bird," admitted Mr. Gryce. "Its call is very +clear, and it seems strangely intelligent. What was it saying while you +stood there?"</p> + +<p>"Something about Eva. 'Lovely Eva, maddening Eva! I love Eva! Eva! +Eva!'"</p> + +<p>"Eva? Wasn't it 'Evelyn? Poor Evelyn?'"</p> + +<p>"No, it was Eva. I thought he might mean the girl I had just seen +carried out. It was an unpleasant experience, hearing this bird shriek +out these cries in the face of the man lying dead at my feet."</p> + +<p>"Miss Butterworth, you didn't simply stand over that man. You knelt down +and looked in his face."</p> + +<p>"I acknowledge it, and caught my dress in the filagree of the cross. +Naturally I would not stand stock still with a man drawing his last +breath under my eye."</p> + +<p>"And what else did you do? You went to the table——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I went to the table."</p> + +<p>"And moved the inkstand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I moved the inkstand, but very carefully, sir, very carefully."</p> + +<p>"Not so carefully but that I could see where it had been sitting before +you took it up: the square made by its base in the dust of the table did +not coincide with the place afterwards occupied by it."</p> + +<p>"Ah, that comes from your having on your glasses and I not. I endeavored +to set it down in the precise place from which I lifted it."</p> + +<p>"Why did you take it up at all? What were you looking for?"</p> + +<p>"For clews, Mr. Gryce. You must forgive me, but I was seeking for clews. +I moved several things. I was hunting for the line of writing which +ought to explain this murder."</p> + +<p>"The line of writing?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I have not told you what the young girl said as she slipped with +her companion into the crowd."</p> + +<p>"No; you have spoken of no words. Have you any such clew as that? Miss +Butterworth, you are fortunate, very fortunate."</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce's look and gesture were eloquent, but Miss Butterworth, with +an access of dignity, quietly remarked:</p> + +<p>"I was not to blame for being in the way when they passed, nor could I +help hearing what she said."</p> + +<p>"And what was it, madam? Did she mention a paper?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, she cried in what I now remember to have been a tone of affright: +'You have left that line of writing behind!' I did not attach much +importance to these words then, but when I came upon the dying man, so +evidently the victim of murder, I recalled what his late visitor had +said and looked about for this piece of writing."</p> + +<p>"And did you find it, Miss Butterworth? I am ready, as you see, for any +revelation you may now make."</p> + +<p>"For one which would reflect dishonor on me? If I had found any paper +explaining this tragedy, I should have felt bound to have called the +attention of the police to it. I did notify them of the crime itself."</p> + +<p>"Yes, madam; and we are obliged to you; but how about your silence in +regard to the fact of two persons having left that house immediately +upon, or just preceding, the death of its master?"</p> + +<p>"I reserved that bit of information. I waited to see if the police would +not get wind of these people without my help. I sincerely wished to keep +my name out of this inquiry. Yet I feel a decided relief now that I have +made my confession. I never could have rested properly after seeing so +much, and——"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Thinking my own thoughts in regard to what I saw, if I had found myself +compelled to bridle my tongue while false scents were being followed and +delicate clews overlooked or discarded without proper attention. I +regard this murder as offering the most difficult problem that has ever +come in my way, and, therefore——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, madam."</p> + +<p>"I cannot but wonder if an opportunity has been afforded me for +retrieving myself in your eyes. I do not care for the opinion of any one +else as to my ability or discretion; but I should like to make you +forget my last despicable failure in Lost Man's Lane. It is a sore +remembrance to me, Mr. Gryce, which nothing but a fresh success can make +me forget."</p> + +<p>"Madam, I understand you. You have formulated some theory. You consider +the young man with the tell-tale face guilty of Mr. Adams's death. Well, +it is very possible. I never thought the butler was rehearsing a crime +he had himself committed."</p> + +<p>"Do you know who the young man is I saw leaving that house so +hurriedly?"</p> + +<p>"Not the least in the world. You are the first to bring him to my +attention."</p> + +<p>"And the young girl with the blonde hair?"</p> + +<p>"It is the first I have heard of her, too."</p> + +<p>"I did not scatter the rose leaves that were found on that floor."</p> + +<p>"No, it was she. She probably wore a bouquet in her belt."</p> + +<p>"Nor was that frippery parasol mine, though I did lose a good, stout, +serviceable one somewhere that day."</p> + +<p>"It was hers; I have no doubt of it."</p> + +<p>"Left by her in the little room where she was whiling away the time +during which the gentlemen conversed together, possibly about that bit +of writing she afterward alluded to."</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>"Her mind was not expectant of evil, for she was smoothing her hair when +the shock came——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, madam, I follow you."</p> + +<p>"And had to be carried out of the place after——"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"She had placed that cross on Mr. Adams's breast. That was a woman's +act, Mr. Gryce."</p> + +<p>"I am glad to hear you say so. The placing of that cross on a layman's +breast was a mystery to me, and is still, I must own. Great remorse or +great fright only can account for it."</p> + +<p>"You will find many mysteries in this case, Mr. Gryce."</p> + +<p>"As great a number as I ever encountered."</p> + +<p>"I have to add one."</p> + +<p>"Another?"</p> + +<p>"It concerns the old butler."</p> + +<p>"I thought you did not see him."</p> + +<p>"I did not see him in the room where Mr. Adams lay."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Where, then?"</p> + +<p>"Upstairs. My interest was not confined to the scene of the murder. +Wishing to spread the alarm, and not being able to rouse any one below, +I crept upstairs, and so came upon this poor wretch going through the +significant pantomime that has been so vividly described in the papers."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Unpleasant for you, very. I imagine you did not stop to talk to +him."</p> + +<p>"No, I fled. I was extremely shaken up by this time and knew only one +thing to do, and that was to escape. But I carried one as yet unsolved +enigma with me. How came I to hear this man's cries in Mr. Adams's +study, and yet find him on the second floor when I came to search the +house? He had not time to mount the stairs while I was passing down the +hall."</p> + +<p>"It is a case of mistaken impression. Your ears played you false. The +cries came from above, not from Mr. Adams's study."</p> + +<p>"My ears are not accustomed to play me tricks. You must seek another +explanation."</p> + +<p>"I have ransacked the house; there are no back stairs."</p> + +<p>"If there were, the study does not communicate with them."</p> + +<p>"And you heard his voice in the study?"</p> + +<p>"Plainly."</p> + +<p>"Well, you have given me a poser, madam."</p> + +<p>"And I will give you another. If he was the perpetrator of this crime, +how comes it that he was not detected and denounced by the young people +I saw going out? If, on the contrary, he was simply the witness of +another man's blow—a blow which horrified him so much that it unseated +his reason—how comes it that he was able to slide away from the door +where he must have stood without attracting the attention and bringing +down upon himself the vengeance of the guilty murderer?"</p> + +<p>"He may be one of the noiseless kind, or, rather, may have been such +before this shock unsettled his mind."</p> + +<p>"True, but he would have been seen. Recall the position of the doorway. +If Mr. Adams fell where he was struck, the assailant must have had that +door directly before him. He could not have helped seeing any one +standing in it."</p> + +<p>"That is true; your observations are quite correct. But those young +people were in a disordered state of mind. The condition in which they +issued from the house proves this. They probably did not trouble +themselves about this man. Escape was all they sought. And, you see, +they did escape."</p> + +<p>"But you will find them. A man who can locate a woman in this great city +of ours with no other clew than five spangles, dropped from her gown, +will certainly make this parasol tell the name of its owner."</p> + +<p>"Ah, madam, the credit of this feat is not due to me. It was the initial +stroke of a young man I propose to adopt into my home and heart; the +same who brought you here to-night. Not much to look at, madam, but +promising, very promising. But I doubt if even he can discover the young +lady you mean, with no other aid than is given by this parasol. New York +is a big place, ma'am, a big place. Do you know how Sweetwater came to +find you? Through your virtues, ma'am; through your neat and methodical +habits. Had you been of a careless turn of mind and not given to mending +your dresses when you tore them, he might have worn his heart out in a +vain search for the lady who had dropped the five spangles in Mr. +Adams's study. Now luck, or, rather, your own commendable habit, was in +his favor this time; but in the prospective search you mentioned, he +will probably have no such assistance."</p> + +<p>"Nor will he need it. I have unbounded faith in your genius, which, +after all, is back of the skilfulness of this new pupil of yours. You +will discover by some means the lady with the dove-colored plumes, and +through her the young gentleman who accompanied her."</p> + +<p>"We shall at least put our energies to work in that direction. +Sweetwater may have an idea——"</p> + +<p>"And I may have one."</p> + +<p>"You?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I indulged in but little sleep last night. That dreadful room with +its unsolved mystery was ever before me. Thoughts would come; +possibilities would suggest themselves. I imagined myself probing its +secrets to the bottom and——"</p> + +<p>"Wait, madam; how many of its so-called secrets do you know? You said +nothing about the lantern."</p> + +<p>"It was burning with a red light when I entered."</p> + +<p>"You did not touch the buttons arranged along the table top?"</p> + +<p>"No; if there is one thing I do not touch, it is anything which suggests +an electrical contrivance. I am intensely feminine, sir, in all my +instincts, and mechanisms of any kind alarm me. To all such things I +give a wide berth. I have not even a telephone in my house. Some +allowance must be made for the natural timidity of woman."</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce suppressed a smile. "It is a pity," he remarked. "Had you +brought another light upon the scene, you might have been blessed with +an idea on a subject that is as puzzling as any connected with the whole +affair."</p> + +<p>"You have not heard what I have to say on a still more important +matter," said she. "When we have exhausted the one topic, we may both +feel like turning on the fresh lights you speak of. Mr. Gryce, on what +does this mystery hinge? On the bit of writing which these young people +were so alarmed at having left behind them."</p> + +<p>"Ah! It is from that you would work! Well, it is a good point to start +from. But we have found no such bit of writing."</p> + +<p>"Have you searched for it? You did not know till now that any importance +might be attached to a morsel of paper with some half-dozen words +written on it."</p> + +<p>"True, but a detective searches just the same. We ransacked that room as +few rooms have been ransacked in years. Not for a known clew, but for an +unknown one. It seemed necessary in the first place to learn who this +man was. His papers were consequently examined. But they told nothing. +If there had been a scrap of writing within view or in his desk——"</p> + +<p>"It was not on his person? You had his pockets searched, his +clothes——"</p> + +<p>"A man who has died from violence is always searched, madam. I leave no +stone unturned in a mysterious case like this."</p> + +<p>Miss Butterworth's face assumed an indefinable expression of +satisfaction, which did not escape Mr. Gryce's eye, though that member +was fixed, according to his old habit, on the miniature of her father +which she wore, in defiance of fashion, at her throat.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," said she, in a musing tone, "if I imagined or really saw on +Mr. Adams's face a most extraordinary expression; something more than +the surprise or anguish following a mortal blow? A look of +determination, arguing some superhuman resolve taken at the moment of +death, or—can you read that face for me? Or did you fail to perceive +aught of what I say? It would really be an aid to me at this moment to +know."</p> + +<p>"I noted that look. It was not a common one. But I cannot read it for +you——"</p> + +<p>"I wonder if the young man you call Sweetwater can. I certainly think it +has a decided bearing on this mystery; such a fold to the lips, such a +look of mingled grief and—what was that you said? Sweetwater has not +been admitted to the room of death? Well, well, I shall have to make my +own suggestion, then. I shall have to part with an idea that may be +totally valueless, but which has impressed me so that it must out, if I +am to have any peace to-night. Mr. Gryce, allow me to whisper in your +ear. Some things lose force when spoken aloud."</p> + +<p>And leaning forward, she breathed a short sentence into his ear which +made him start and regard her with an amazement which rapidly grew into +admiration.</p> + +<p>"Madam!" he cried, rising up that he might the better honor her with one +of his low bows, "your idea, whether valueless or not, is one which is +worthy of the acute lady who proffers it. We will act on it, ma'am, act +at once. Wait till I have given my orders. I will not keep you long."</p> + +<p>And with another bow, he left the room.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>AMOS'S SON.</h3> + + +<p>Miss Butterworth had been brought up in a strict school of manners. When +she sat, she sat still; when she moved, she moved quickly, firmly, but +with no unnecessary disturbance. Fidgets were unknown to her. Yet when +she found herself alone after this interview, it was with difficulty she +could restrain herself from indulging in some of those outward +manifestations of uneasiness which she had all her life reprobated in +the more nervous members of her own sex. She was anxious, and she showed +it, like the sensible woman she was, and was glad enough when Mr. Gryce +finally returned and, accosting her with a smile, said almost gayly:</p> + +<p>"Well, that is seen to! And all we have to do now is to await the +result. Madam, have you any further ideas? If so, I should be glad to +have the benefit of them."</p> + +<p>Her self-possession was at once restored.</p> + +<p>"You would?" she repeated, eying him somewhat doubtfully. "I should like +to be assured of the value of the one I have already advanced, before I +venture upon another. Let us enter into a conference instead; compare +notes; tell, for instance, why neither of us look on Bartow as the +guilty man."</p> + +<p>"I thought we had exhausted that topic. Your suspicions were aroused by +the young couple you saw leaving the house, while mine—well, madam, to +you, at least, I may admit that there is something in the mute's +gestures and general manner which conveys to my mind the impression that +he is engaged in rehearsing something he has seen, rather than something +he has done; and as yet I have seen no reason for doubting the truth of +this impression."</p> + +<p>"I was affected in the same way, and would have been, even if I had not +already had my suspicions turned in another direction. Besides, it is +more natural for a man to be driven insane by another's act than by his +own."</p> + +<p>"Yes, if he loved the victim."</p> + +<p>"And did not Bartow?"</p> + +<p>"He does not mourn Mr. Adams."</p> + +<p>"But he is no longer master of his emotions."</p> + +<p>"Very true; but if we take any of his actions as a clew to the +situation, we must take all. We believe from his gestures that he is +giving us a literal copy of acts he has seen performed. Then, why pass +over the gleam of infernal joy that lights his face after the whole is +over? It is as if he rejoiced over the deed, or at least found +immeasurable satisfaction in it."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it is still a copy of what he saw; the murderer may have +rejoiced. But no, there was no joy in the face of the young man I saw +rushing away from this scene of violence. Quite the contrary. Mr. Gryce, +we are in deep waters. I feel myself wellnigh submerged by them."</p> + +<p>"Hold up your head, madam. Every flood has its ebb. If you allow +yourself to go under, what will become of me?"</p> + +<p>"You are disposed to humor, Mr. Gryce. It is a good sign. You are never +humorous when perplexed. Somewhere you must see daylight."</p> + +<p>"Let us proceed with our argument. Illumination frequently comes from +the most unexpected quarter."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then, let us put the old man's joy down as one of the +mysteries to be explained later. Have you thought of him as a possible +accomplice?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly; but this supposition is open to the same objection as that +which made him the motive power in this murder. One is not driven insane +by an expected horror. It takes shock to unsettle the brain. He was not +looking for the death of his master."</p> + +<p>"True. We may consider that matter as settled. Bartow was an innocent +witness of this crime, and, having nothing to fear, may be trusted to +reproduce in his pantomimic action its exact features."</p> + +<p>"Very good. Continue, madam. Nothing but profit is likely to follow an +argument presented by Miss Butterworth."</p> + +<p>The old detective's tone was serious, his manner perfect; but Miss +Butterworth, ever on the look-out for sarcasm from his lips, bridled a +little, though in no other way did she show her displeasure.</p> + +<p>"Let us, then, recall his precise gestures, remembering that he must +have surprised the assailant from the study doorway, and so have seen +the assault from over his master's shoulder."</p> + +<p>"In other words, directly in front of him. Now what was his first move?"</p> + +<p>"His first move, as now seen, is to raise his right arm and stretch it +behind him, while he leans forward for the imaginary dagger. What does +that mean?"</p> + +<p>"I should find it hard to say. But I did not see him do that. When I +came upon him, he was thrusting with his left hand across his own +body—a vicious thrust and with his left hand. That is a point, Mr. +Gryce."</p> + +<p>"Yes, especially as the doctors agree that Mr. Adams was killed by a +left-handed blow."</p> + +<p>"You don't say! Don't you see the difficulty, then?"</p> + +<p>"The difficulty, madam?"</p> + +<p>"Bartow was standing face to face with the assailant. In imitating him, +especially in his unreasoning state of mind, he would lift the arm +opposite to the one whose action he mimics, which, in this case, would +be the assailant's right. Try, for the moment, to mimic my actions. See! +I lift this hand, and instinctively (nay, I detected the movement, sir, +quickly as you remembered yourself), you raise the one directly opposite +to it. It is like seeing yourself in a mirror. You turn your head to the +right, but your image turns to the left."</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce's laugh rang out in spite of himself. He was not often caught +napping, but this woman exercised a species of fascination upon him at +times, and it rather amused than offended him, when he was obliged to +acknowledge himself defeated.</p> + +<p>"Very good! You have proved your point quite satisfactorily; but what +conclusions are to be drawn from it? That the man was not left-handed, +or that he was not standing in the place you have assigned to him?"</p> + +<p>"Shall we go against the doctors? They say that the blow was a +left-handed one. Mr. Gryce, I would give anything for an hour spent with +you in Mr. Adams's study, with Bartow free to move about at his will. I +think we would learn more by watching him for a short space of time than +in talking as we are doing for an hour."</p> + +<p>It was said tentatively, almost timidly. Miss Butterworth had some sense +of the temerity involved in this suggestion even if, according to her +own declaration, she had no curiosity. "I don't want to be +disagreeable," she smiled.</p> + +<p>She was so far from being so that Mr. Gryce was taken unawares, and for +once in his life became impulsive.</p> + +<p>"I think it can be managed, madam; that is, after the funeral. There are +too many officials now in the house, and——"</p> + +<p>"Of course, of course," she acceded. "I should not think of obtruding +myself at present. But the case is so interesting, and my connection +with it so peculiar, that I sometimes forget myself. Do you think"—here +she became quite nervous for one of her marked self-control—"that I +have laid myself open to a summons from the coroner?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce grew thoughtful, eyed the good lady, or rather her folded +hands, with an air of some compassion, and finally replied:</p> + +<p>"The facts regarding this affair come in so slowly that I doubt if the +inquest is held for several days. Meanwhile we may light on those two +young people ourselves. If so, the coroner may <i>overlook</i> your share in +bringing them to our notice."</p> + +<p>There was a sly emphasis on the word, and a subtle humor in his look +that showed the old detective at his worst. But Miss Butterworth did not +resent it; she was too full of a fresh confession she had to make.</p> + +<p>"Ah," said she, "if they had been the only persons I encountered there. +But they were not. Another person entered the house before I left it, +and I may be obliged to speak of him."</p> + +<p>"Of him? Really, madam, you are a mine of intelligence."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," was the meek reply; meek, when you consider from whose lips +it came. "I ought to have spoken of him before, but I never like to mix +matters, and this old gentleman——"</p> + +<p>"Old gentleman!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, very old and very much of a gentleman, did not appear to have +any connection with the crime beyond knowing the murdered man."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but that's a big connection, ma'am. To find some one who knew Mr. +Adams—really, madam, patience has its limits, and I must press you to +speak."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I will speak! The time has come for it. Besides, I'm quite ready to +discuss this new theme; it is very interesting."</p> + +<p>"Suppose we begin, then, by a detailed account of your adventures in +this house of death," dryly suggested the detective. "Your full +adventures, madam, with nothing left out."</p> + +<p>"I appreciate the sarcasm, but nothing has been left out except what I +am about to relate to you. It happened just as I was leaving the house."</p> + +<p>"What did? I hate to ask you to be more explicit. But, in the interests +of justice——"</p> + +<p>"You are quite right. As I was going out, then, I encountered an elderly +gentleman coming in. His hand had just touched the bell handle. You will +acknowledge that it was a perplexing moment for me. His face, which was +well preserved for his years, wore an air of expectation that was almost +gay. He glanced in astonishment at mine, which, whatever its usual +serenity, certainly must have borne marks of deep emotion. Neither of us +spoke. At last he inquired politely if he might enter, and said +something about having an appointment with some one in the study. At +which I stepped briskly enough aside, I assure you, for this might +mean—What did you say? Did I close the door? I assuredly did. Was I to +let the whole of —— Street into the horrors of this house at a moment +when a poor old man—No, I didn't go out myself. Why should I? Was I to +leave a man on the verge of eighty—excuse me, not every man of eighty +is so hale and vigorous as yourself—to enter such a scene alone? +Besides, I had not warned him of the condition of the only other living +occupant of the house."</p> + +<p>"Discreet, very. Quite what was to be expected of you, Miss Butterworth. +More than that. You followed him, no doubt, with careful supervision, +down the hall."</p> + +<p>"Most certainly! What would you have thought of me if I had not? He was +in a strange house; there was no servant to guide him, he wanted to know +the way to the study, and I politely showed him there."</p> + +<p>"Kind of you, madam,—very. It must have been an interesting moment to +you."</p> + +<p>"Very interesting! Too interesting! I own that I am not made entirely of +steel, sir, and the shock he received at finding a dead man awaiting +him, instead of a live one, was more or less communicated to me. Yet I +stood my ground."</p> + +<p>"Admirable! I could have done no better myself. And so this man who had +an appointment with Mr. Adams was shocked, really shocked, at finding +him lying there under a cross, dead?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, there was no doubting that. Shocked, surprised, terrified, and +something more. It is that something more which has proved my +perplexity. I cannot make it out, not even in thinking it over. Was it +the fascination which all horrible sights exert on the morbid, or was it +a sudden realization of some danger he had escaped, or of some +difficulty yet awaiting him? Hard to say, Mr. Gryce, hard to say; but +you may take my word for it that there was more to him in this meeting +than an unexpected stumbling upon a dead man where he expected to find a +live one. Yet he made no sound after that first cry, and hardly any +movement. He just stared at the figure on the floor; then at his face, +which he seemed to devour, at first with curiosity, then with hate, then +with terror, and lastly—how can I express myself?—with a sort of +hellish humor that in another moment might have broken into something +like a laugh, if the bird, which I had failed to observe up to this +moment, had not waked in its high cage, and, thrusting its beak between +the bars, shrilled out in the most alarming of tones: 'Remember Evelyn!' +That startled the old man even more than the sight on the floor had +done. He turned round, and I saw his fist rise as if against some +menacing intruder, but it quickly fell again as his eyes encountered the +picture which hung before him, and with a cringe painful to see in one +of his years, he sidled back till he reached the doorway. Here he paused +a minute to give another look at the man outstretched at his feet, and I +heard him say:</p> + +<p>"'It is Amos's son, not Amos! Is it fatality, or did he plan this +meeting, thinking——'</p> + +<p>"But here he caught sight of my figure in the antechamber beyond, and +resuming in an instant his former debonair manner, he bowed very low and +opened his lips as if about to ask a question. But he evidently thought +better of it, for he strode by me and made his way to the front door +without a word. Being an intruder myself, I did not like to stop him. +But I am sorry now for the consideration I showed him; for just before +he stepped out, his emotion—the special character of which, I own to +you, I find impossible to understand—culminated in a burst of raucous +laughter which added the final horror to this amazing adventure. Then he +went out, and in the last glimpse I had of him before the door shut he +wore the same look of easy self-satisfaction with which he had entered +this place of death some fifteen minutes before."</p> + +<p>"Remarkable! Some secret history there! That man must be found. He can +throw light upon Mr. Adams's past. 'Amos's son,' he called him? Who is +Amos? Mr. Adams's name was Felix. Felix, the son of Amos. Perhaps this +connection of names may lead to something. It is not a common one, and +if given to the papers, may result in our receiving a clew to a mystery +which seems impenetrable. Your stay in Mr. Adams's house was quite +productive, ma'am. Did you prolong it after the departure of this old +man?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, I had had my fill of the mysterious, and left immediately +after him. Ashamed of the spirit of investigation which had led me to +enter the house, I made a street boy the medium of my communication to +the police, and would have been glad if I could have so escaped all +responsibility in the matter. But the irony of fate follows me as it +does others. A clew was left of my presence, which involves me in this +affair, whether I will or no. Was the hand of Providence in this? +Perhaps. The future will tell. And now, Mr. Gryce, since my budget is +quite empty and the hour late, I will take my leave. If you hear from +that bit of paper——"</p> + +<p>"If I hear from it in the way you suggest I will let you know. It will +be the least I can do for a lady who has done so much for me."</p> + +<p>"Now you flatter me—proof positive that I have stayed a minute longer +than was judicious. Good evening, Mr. Gryce. What? I have not stayed too +long? You have something else to ask."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and this time it is concerning a matter personal to yourself. May +I inquire if you wore the same bonnet yesterday that you do to-day?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir. I know you have a good reason for this question, and so will +not express my surprise. Yesterday I was in reception costume, and my +bonnet was a jet one——"</p> + +<p>"With long strings tied under the chin?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, short strings; long strings are no longer the fashion."</p> + +<p>"But you wore something which fell from your neck?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a boa—a feather boa. How came you to know it, sir? Did I leave my +image in one of the mirrors?"</p> + +<p>"Hardly. If so, I should not have expected it to speak. You merely wrote +the fact on the study table top. Or so I have dared to think. You or the +young lady—did she wear ribbons or streamers, too?"</p> + +<p>"That I cannot say. Her face was all I saw, and the skirt of a +dove-colored silk dress."</p> + +<p>"Then you must settle the question for me in this way. If on the tips of +that boa of yours you find the faintest evidence of its having been +dipped in blood, I shall know that the streaks found on the top of the +table I speak of were evidences of your presence there. But if your boa +is clean, or was not long enough to touch that dying man as you leaned +over him, then we have proof that the young lady with the dove-colored +plumes fingered that table also, instead of falling at once into the +condition in which you saw her carried out."</p> + +<p>"I fear that it is my boa which will tell the tale: another proof of the +fallibility of man, or, rather, woman. In secret search for clews I left +behind me traces of my own presence. I really feel mortified, sir, and +you have quite the advantage of me."</p> + +<p>And with this show of humility, which may not have been entirely +sincere, this estimable lady took her departure.</p> + +<p>Did Mr. Gryce suffer from any qualms of conscience at having elicited so +much and imparted so little? I doubt it. Mr. Gryce's conscience was +quite seared in certain places.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>IN THE ROUND OF THE STAIRCASE.</h3> + + +<p>The next morning Mr. Gryce received a small communication from Miss +Butterworth at or near the very time she received one from him. Hers +ran:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>You were quite correct. So far as appears, I was the only person to +lean over Mr. Adams's study table after his unfortunate death. I +have had to clip the ends of my boa.</p></div> + +<p>His was equally laconic:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>My compliments, madam! Mr. Adams's jaws have been forced apart. A +small piece of paper was found clinched between his teeth. This +paper has been recovered, and will be read at the inquest. Perhaps +a few favored persons may be granted the opportunity of reading it +before then, notably yourself.</p></div> + +<p>Of the two letters the latter naturally occasioned the greater +excitement in the recipient. The complacency of Miss Butterworth was +superb, and being the result of something that could not be communicated +to those about her, occasioned in the household much speculation as to +its cause.</p> + +<p>At Police Headquarters more than one man was kept busy listening to the +idle tales of a crowd of would-be informers. The results which had +failed to follow the first day's publication of the crime came rapidly +in during the second. There were innumerable persons of all ages and +conditions who were ready to tell how they had seen this and that one +issue from Mr. Adams's house on the afternoon of his death, but when +asked to give a description of these persons, lost themselves in +generalities as tedious as they were unprofitable. One garrulous old +woman had observed a lady of genteel appearance open the door to an +elderly gentleman in a great-coat; and a fashionably dressed young woman +came in all breathless to relate how a young man with a very pale young +lady on his arm ran against her as she was going by this house at the +very hour Mr. Adams was said to have been murdered. She could not be +sure of knowing the young man again, and could not say if the young lady +was blonde or brunette, only that she was awfully pale and had a +beautiful gray feather in her hat.</p> + +<p>Others were ready with similar stories, which confirmed, without adding +to, the facts already known, and night came on without much progress +having been made toward the unravelling of this formidable mystery.</p> + +<p>On the next day Mr. Adams's funeral took place. No relatives or intimate +friends having come forward, his landlord attended to these rites and +his banker acted the part of chief mourner. As his body was carried out +of the house, a half-dozen detectives mingled with the crowd blocking +the thoroughfare in front, but nothing came of their surveillance here +or at the cemetery to which the remains were speedily carried. The +problem which had been presented to the police had to be worked out from +such material as had already come to hand; and, in forcible recognition +of this fact, Mr. Gryce excused himself one evening at Headquarters and +proceeded quite alone and on foot to the dark and apparently closed +house in which the tragedy had occurred.</p> + +<p>He entered with a key, and once inside, proceeded to light up the whole +house. This done, he took a look at the study, saw that the cross had +been replaced on the wall, the bird-cage rehung on its hook under the +ceiling, and everything put in its wonted order, with the exception of +the broken casings, which still yawned in a state of disrepair on either +side of the doorway leading into the study. The steel plate had been +shoved back into the place prepared for it by Mr. Adams, but the +glimpses still to be seen of its blue surface through the hole made in +the wall of the antechamber formed anything but an attractive feature +in the scene, and Mr. Gryce, with something of the instinct and much of +the deftness of a housewife, proceeded to pull up a couple of rugs from +the parlor floor and string them over these openings. Then he consulted +his watch, and finding that it was within an hour of nine o'clock, took +up his stand behind the curtains of the parlor window. Soon, for the +person expected was as prompt as himself, he saw a carriage stop and a +lady alight, and he hastened to the front door to receive her. It was +Miss Butterworth.</p> + +<p>"Madam, your punctuality is equal to my own," said he. "Have you ordered +your coachman to drive away?"</p> + +<p>"Only as far as the corner," she returned, as she followed him down the +hall. "There he will await the call of your whistle."</p> + +<p>"Nothing could be better. Are you afraid to remain for a moment alone, +while I watch from the window the arrival of the other persons we +expect? At present there is no one in the house but ourselves."</p> + +<p>"If I was subject to fear in a matter of this kind, I should not be here +at all. Besides, the house is very cheerfully lighted. I see you have +chosen a crimson light for illuminating the study."</p> + +<p>"Because a crimson light was burning when Mr. Adams died."</p> + +<p>"Remember Evelyn!" called out a voice.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you have brought back the bird!" exclaimed Miss Butterworth. "That +is not the cry with which it greeted me before. It was 'Eva! Lovely +Eva!' Do you suppose Eva and Evelyn are the same?"</p> + +<p>"Madam, we have so many riddles before us that we will let this one go +for the present. I expect Mr. Adams's valet here in a moment."</p> + +<p>"Sir, you relieve me of an immense weight. I was afraid that the +privilege of being present at the test you propose to make was not to be +accorded me."</p> + +<p>"Miss Butterworth, you have earned a seat at this experiment. Bartow has +been given a key, and will enter as of old in entire freedom to do as he +wills. We have simply to watch his movements."</p> + +<p>"In this room, sir? I do not think I shall like that. I had rather not +meet this madman face to face."</p> + +<p>"You will not be called upon to do so. We do not wish him to be startled +by encountering any watchful eye. Irresponsible as he is, he must be +allowed to move about without anything to distract his attention. +Nothing must stand in the way of his following those impulses which may +yield us a clew to his habits and the ways of this peculiar household. I +propose to place you where the chances are least in favor of your being +seen by him—in this parlor, madam, which we have every reason to +believe was seldom opened during Mr. Adams's lifetime."</p> + +<p>"You must put out the gas, then, or the unaccustomed light will attract +his attention."</p> + +<p>"I will not only put out the gas, but I will draw the portières close, +making this little hole for your eye and this one for mine. A common +expedient, madam; but serviceable, madam, serviceable."</p> + +<p>The snort which Miss Butterworth gave as she thus found herself drawn up +in darkness before a curtain, in company with this plausible old man, +but feebly conveyed her sensations, which were naturally complex and a +little puzzling to herself. Had she been the possessor of a lively +curiosity (but we know from her own lips that she was not), she might +have found some enjoyment in the situation. But being where she was +solely from a sense of duty, she probably blushed behind her screen at +the position in which she found herself, in the cause of truth and +justice; or would have done so if the opening of the front door at that +moment had not told her that the critical moment had arrived and that +the deaf-and-dumb valet had just been introduced into the house.</p> + +<p>The faintest "Hush!" from Mr. Gryce warned her that her surmise was +correct, and, bending her every energy to listen, she watched for the +expected appearance of this man in the antechamber of Mr. Adams's former +study.</p> + +<p>He came even sooner than she was prepared to see him, and laying down +his hat on a table near the doorway, advanced with a busy air toward the +portière he had doubtless been in the habit of lifting twenty times a +day. But he barely touched it this time. Something seen, or unseen, +prevented him from entering. Was it the memory of what he had last +beheld there? Or had he noticed the rugs hanging in an unaccustomed way +on either side of the damaged casings? Neither, apparently, for he +simply turned away with a meek look, wholly mechanical, and taking up +his hat again, left the antechamber and proceeded softly upstairs.</p> + +<p>"I will follow him," whispered Mr. Gryce. "Don't be afraid, ma'am. This +whistle will bring a man in from the street at once."</p> + +<p>"I am not afraid. I would be ashamed——"</p> + +<p>But it was useless for her to finish this disclaimer. Mr. Gryce was +already in the hall. He returned speedily, and saying that the +experiment was likely to be a failure, as the old man had gone to his +own room and was preparing himself for bed, he led the way into the +study, and with purpose, or without a purpose—who knows?—idly touched +a button on the table top, thus throwing a new light on the scene. It +was Miss Butterworth's first experience of this change of light, and she +was observing the effect made by the violet glow now thrown over the +picture and the other rich articles in the room when her admiration was +cut short, and Mr. Gryce's half-uttered remark also, by the faint sound +of the valet's descending steps.</p> + +<p>Indeed, they had barely time to regain their old position behind the +parlor portières when Bartow was seen hurrying in from the hall with his +former busy air, which this time remained unchecked.</p> + +<p>Crossing to his master's study, he paused for an infinitesimal length of +time on the threshold, as if conscious of something being amiss, then +went into the room beyond, and, without a glance in the direction of the +rug, which had been carefully relaid on the spot where his master had +fallen, began to make such arrangements for the night as he was in the +habit of making at this hour. He brought a bottle of wine from the +cupboard and set it on the table, and then a glass, which he first wiped +scrupulously clean. Then he took out his master's dressing gown and +slippers, and, placing them to hand, went into the bedroom.</p> + +<p>By this time the two watchers had crept from their concealment near +enough to note what he was doing in the bedroom. He was stooping over +the comb which Mr. Gryce had left lying on the floor. This small object +in such a place seemed to surprise him. He took it up, shook his head, +and put it back on the dresser. Then he turned down his master's bed.</p> + +<p>"Poor fool!" murmured Miss Butterworth as she and her companion crept +back to their old place behind the parlor curtains, "he has forgotten +everything but his old routine duties. We shall get nothing from this +man."</p> + +<p>But she stopped suddenly; they both stopped. Bartow was in the middle of +the study, with his eyes fixed on his master's empty chair in an +inquiring way that spoke volumes. Then he turned, and gazed earnestly at +the rug where he had last seen that master lying outstretched and +breathless; and awakening to a realization of what had happened, fell +into his most violent self and proceeded to go through the series of +actions which they were now bound to consider a reproduction of what he +had previously seen take place there. Then he went softly out, and crept +away upstairs.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce and Miss Butterworth stepped at once into the light, and +surveyed each other with a look of marked discouragement. Then the +latter, with a sudden gleam of enthusiasm, cried quickly:</p> + +<p>"Turn on another color, and let us see what will happen. I have an idea +it will fetch the old man down again."</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce's brows went up.</p> + +<p>"Do you think he can see through the floor?"</p> + +<p>But he touched a button, and a rich blue took the place of the violet.</p> + +<p>Nothing happened.</p> + +<p>Miss Butterworth looked disturbed.</p> + +<p>"I have confidence in your theories," began Mr. Gryce, "but when they +imply the possibility of this man seeing through blank walls and obeying +signals which can have no signification to any one on the floor +above——"</p> + +<p>"Hark!" she cried, holding up one finger with a triumphant air. The old +man's steps could be heard descending.</p> + +<p>This time he approached with considerable feebleness, passed slowly into +the study, advanced to the table, and reached out his hands as if to +lift something which he expected to find there. Seeing nothing, he +glanced in astonishment up at the book shelves and then back to the +table, shook his head, and suddenly collapsing, sank in a doze on the +nearest chair.</p> + +<p>Miss Butterworth drew a long breath, eyed Mr. Gryce with some curiosity, +and then triumphantly exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Can you read the meaning of all that? I think I can. Don't you see that +he came expecting to find a pile of books on the table which it was +probably his business to restore to their shelves?"</p> + +<p>"But how can he know what light is burning here? You can see for +yourself that there is no possible communication between this room and +the one in which he has always been found by any one going above."</p> + +<p>Miss Butterworth's manner showed a hesitation that was almost naive. She +smiled, and there was apology in her smile, though none in her voice, as +she remarked with odd breaks:</p> + +<p>"When I went upstairs—you know I went upstairs when I was here +before—I saw a little thing—a very little thing—which you doubtless +observed yourself and which may explain, though I do not know how, why +Bartow can perceive these lights from the floor above."</p> + +<p>"I shall be very glad to hear about it, madam. I thought I had +thoroughly searched those rooms——"</p> + +<p>"And the halls?"</p> + +<p>"And the halls; and that nothing in them could have escaped my eyes. But +if you have a more patient vision than myself——"</p> + +<p>"Or make it my business to look lower——"</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"To look lower; to look on the floor, say."</p> + +<p>"On the floor?"</p> + +<p>"The floor sometimes reveals much: shows where a person steps the +oftenest, and, therefore, where he has the most business. You must have +noticed how marred the woodwork is at the edge of the carpeting on that +little landing above."</p> + +<p>"In the round of the staircase?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce did not think it worth his while to answer. Perhaps he had not +time; for leaving the valet where he was, and Miss Butterworth where she +was (only she would not be left, but followed him), he made his way +upstairs, and paused at the place she had mentioned, with a curious look +at the floor.</p> + +<p>"You see, it has been much trodden here," she said; at which gentle +reminder of her presence he gave a start; possibly he had not heard her +behind him, and after sixty years of hard service even a detective may +be excused a slight nervousness. "Now, why should it be trodden here? +There is no apparent reason why any one should shuffle to and fro in +this corner. The stair is wide, especially here, and there is no +window——"</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce, whose eye had been travelling over the wall, reached over her +shoulder to one of the dozen pictures hanging at intervals from the +bottom to the top of the staircase, and pulling it away from the wall, +on which it hung decidedly askew, revealed a round opening through which +poured a ray of blue light which could only proceed from the vault of +the adjoining study.</p> + +<p>"No window," he repeated. "No, but an opening into the study wall which +answers the same purpose. Miss Butterworth, your eye is to be trusted +every time. I only wonder you did not pull this picture aside yourself."</p> + +<p>"It was not hanging crooked then. Besides I was in a hurry. I had just +come from my encounter with this demented man. I had noticed the marks +on the landing, and the worn edges of the carpet, on my way upstairs. I +was in no condition to observe them on my way down."</p> + +<p>"I see."</p> + +<p>Miss Butterworth ran her foot to and fro over the flooring they were +examining.</p> + +<p>"Bartow was evidently in the habit of coming here constantly," said she, +"probably to learn whether his master had need of him. Ingenious in Mr. +Adams to contrive signals for communication with this man! He certainly +had great use for his deaf-and-dumb servant. So one mystery is solved!"</p> + +<p>"And if I am not mistaken, we can by a glance through this loophole +obtain the answer to another. You are wondering, I believe, how Bartow, +if he followed the movements of the assailant from the doorway, came to +thrust with his left hand, instead of with his right. Now if he saw the +tragedy from this point, he saw it over the assailant's shoulder, +instead of face to face. What follows? He would imitate literally the +movements of the man he saw, turn in the same direction and strike with +the same hand."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Gryce, we are beginning to untangle the threads that looked so +complicated. Ah, what is that? Why, it's that bird! His cage must be +very nearly under this hole."</p> + +<p>"A little to one side, madam, but near enough to give you a start. What +was it he cried then?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, those sympathetic words about Eva! 'Poor Eva!'"</p> + +<p>"Well, give a glance to Bartow. You can see him very well from here."</p> + +<p>Miss Butterworth put her eye again to the opening, and gave a grunt, a +very decided grunt. With her a grunt was significant of surprise.</p> + +<p>"He is shaking his fist; he is all alive with passion. He looks as if he +would like to kill the bird."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps that is why the creature was strung up so high. You may be sure +Mr. Adams had some basis for his idiosyncrasies."</p> + +<p>"I begin to think so. I don't know that I care to go back where that man +is. He has a very murderous look."</p> + +<p>"And a very feeble arm, Miss Butterworth. You are safe under my +protection. My arm is not feeble."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/diagram.jpg"><img src="images/diagram.jpg" alt=""/></a> +</div> + +<p>[Illustration: A-Table. B-Small Stand. C-Door to Bedroom. D-Evelyn's +Picture E-Loophole on Stair Landing. F-Entrance to Study.] <a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Since my readers may not understand how an opening above +the stairway might communicate with Mr. Adams's study, I here submit a +diagram of the same. The study walls were very high, forming a rounded +extension at the back of the house.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>HIGH AND LOW.</h3> + + +<p>At the foot of the stairs, Mr. Gryce excused himself, and calling in two +or three men whom he had left outside, had the valet removed before +taking Miss Butterworth back into the study. When all was quiet again, +and they found an opportunity to speak, Mr. Gryce remarked:</p> + +<p>"One very important thing has been settled by the experiment we have +just made. Bartow is acquitted of participation in this crime."</p> + +<p>"Then we can give our full attention to the young people. You have heard +nothing from them, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Nor from the old man who laughed?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>Miss Butterworth looked disappointed.</p> + +<p>"I thought—it seemed very probable—that the scrap of writing you found +would inform you who these were. If it was important enough for the +dying man to try to swallow it, it certainly should give some clew to +his assailant."</p> + +<p>"Unfortunately, it does not do so. It was a veritable scrawl, madam, +running something like this: 'I return your daughter to you. She is +here. Neither she nor you will ever see me again. Remember Evelyn!' And +signed, 'Amos's son.'"</p> + +<p>"Amos's son! That is Mr. Adams himself."</p> + +<p>"So we have every reason to believe."</p> + +<p>"Strange! Unaccountable! And the paper inscribed with these words was +found clinched between his teeth! Was the handwriting recognized?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, as his own, if we can judge from the specimens we have seen of his +signature on the fly-leaves of his books."</p> + +<p>"Well, mysteries deepen. And the retaining of this paper was so +important to him that even in his death throe he thrust it in this +strangest of all hiding-places, as being the only one that could be +considered safe from search. And the girl! Her first words on coming to +herself were: 'You have left that line of writing behind.' Mr. Gryce, +those words, few and inexplicable as they are, contain the key to the +whole situation. Will you repeat them again, if you please, sentence by +sentence?"</p> + +<p>"With pleasure, madam; I have said them often enough to myself. First, +then: 'I return your daughter to you!'"</p> + +<p>"So! Mr. Adams had some one's daughter in charge whom he returns. Whose +daughter? Not that young man's daughter, certainly, for that would +necessitate her being a small child. Besides, if these words had been +meant for his assailant, why make so remarkable an effort to hide them +from him?"</p> + +<p>"Very true! I have said the same thing to myself."</p> + +<p>"Yet, if not for him, for whom, then? For the old gentleman who came in +later?"</p> + +<p>"It is possible; since hearing of him I have allowed myself to regard +this as among the possibilities, especially as the next words of this +strange communication are: 'She is here.' Now the only woman who was +there a few minutes previous to this old gentleman's visit was the +light-haired girl whom you saw carried out."</p> + +<p>"Very true; but why do you reason as if this paper had just been +written? It might have been an old scrap, referring to past sorrows or +secrets."</p> + +<p>"These words were written that afternoon. The paper on which they were +scrawled was torn from a sheet of letter paper lying on the desk, and +the pen with which they were inscribed—you must have noticed where it +lay, quite out of its natural place on the extreme edge of the table."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, sir; but I had little idea of the significance we might come +to attach to it. These words are connected, then, with the girl I saw. +And she is not Evelyn or he would not have repeated in this note the +bird's catch-word, 'Remember Evelyn!' I wonder if she is Evelyn?" +proceeded Miss Butterworth, pointing to the one large picture which +adorned the wall.</p> + +<p>"We may call her so for the nonce. So melancholy a face may well suggest +some painful family secret. But how explain the violent part played by +the young man, who is not mentioned in these abrupt and hastily penned +sentences! It is all a mystery, madam, a mystery which we are wasting +time to attempt to solve."</p> + +<p>"Yet I hate to give it up without an effort. Those words, now. There +were some other words you have not repeated to me."</p> + +<p>"They came before that injunction, 'Remember Evelyn!' They bespoke a +resolve. 'Neither she nor you will ever see me again.'"</p> + +<p>"Ah! but these few words are very significant, Mr. Gryce. Could he have +dealt that blow himself? May he have been a suicide after all?"</p> + +<p>"Madam, you have the right to inquire; but from Bartow's pantomime, you +must have perceived it is not a self-inflicted blow he mimics, but a +maddened thrust from an outraged hand. Let us keep to our first +conclusions; only—to be fair to every possibility—the condition of Mr. +Adams's affairs and the absence of all family papers and such documents +as may usually be found in a wealthy man's desk prove that he had made +some preparation for possible death. It may have come sooner than he +expected and in another way, but it was a thought he had indulged in, +and—madam, I have a confession to make also. I have not been quite fair +to my most valued colleague. The study—that most remarkable of +rooms—contains a secret which has not been imparted to you; a very +peculiar one, madam, which was revealed to me in a rather startling +manner. This room can be, or rather could be, cut off entirely from the +rest of the house; made a death-trap of, or rather a tomb, in which this +incomprehensible man may have intended to die. Look at this plate of +steel. It is worked by a mechanism which forces it across this open +doorway. I was behind that plate of steel the other night, and these +holes had to be made to let me out."</p> + +<p>"Ha! You detectives have your experiences! I should not have enjoyed +spending that especial evening with you. But what an old-world tragedy +we are unearthing here! I declare"—and the good lady actually rubbed +her eyes—"I feel as if transported back to mediæval days. Who says we +are living in New York within sound of the cable car and the singing of +the telegraph wire?"</p> + +<p>"Some men are perfectly capable of bringing the mediæval into Wall +Street. I think Mr. Adams was one of those men. Romanticism tinged all +his acts, even the death he died. Nor did it cease with his death. It +followed him to the tomb. Witness the cross we found lying on his +bosom."</p> + +<p>"That was the act of another's hand, the result of another's +superstition. That shows the presence of a priest or a woman at the +moment he died."</p> + +<p>"Yet," proceeded Mr. Gryce, with a somewhat wondering air, "he must have +had a grain of hard sense in his make-up. All his contrivances worked. +He was a mechanical genius, as well as a lover of mystery."</p> + +<p>"An odd combination. Strange that we do not feel his spirit infecting +the very air of this study. I could almost wish it did. We might then be +led to grasp the key to this mystery."</p> + +<p>"That," remarked Mr. Gryce, "can be done in only one way. You have +already pointed it out. We must trace the young couple who were present +at his death struggle. If they cannot be found the case is hopeless."</p> + +<p>"And so," said she, "we come around to the point from which we +started—proof positive that we are lost in the woods." And Miss +Butterworth rose. She felt that for the time being she, at least, had +come to the end of her resources.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce did not seek to detain her. Indeed, he appeared to be anxious +to leave the place himself. They, however, stopped long enough to cast +one final look around them. As they did so Miss Butterworth's finger +slowly rose.</p> + +<p>"See!" said she, "you can hardly perceive from this side of the wall the +opening made by the removal of that picture on the stair landing. +Wouldn't you say that it was in the midst of those folds of dark-colored +tapestry up there?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I had already located that spot as the one. With the picture hung +up on the other side, it would be quite invisible."</p> + +<p>"One needs to keep one's eyes moving in a case like this. That picture +must have been drawn aside several times while we were in this room. Yet +we failed to notice it."</p> + +<p>"That was from not looking high enough. High and low, Mr. Gryce! What +goes on at the level of the eye is apparent to every one."</p> + +<p>The smile with which he acknowledged this parting shot and prepared to +escort her to the door had less of irony than sadness in it. Was he +beginning to realize that years tell even on the most sagacious, and +that neither high places nor low would have escaped his attention a +dozen years before?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>BRIDE ROSES.</h3> + + +<p>"A blonde, you say, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sweetwater; not of the usual type, but one of those frail, +ethereal creatures whom we find it so hard to associate with crime. He, +on the contrary, according to Miss Butterworth's description (and her +descriptions may be relied upon), is one of those gentlemanly athletes +whose towering heads and powerful figures attract universal attention. +Seen together, you would be apt to know them. But what reason have we +for thinking they will be found together?"</p> + +<p>"How were they dressed?"</p> + +<p>"Like people of fashion and respectability. He wore a brown-checked suit +apparently fresh from the tailor; she, a dove-colored dress with white +trimmings. The parasol shows the color of her hat and plumes. Both were +young, and (still according to Miss Butterworth) of sensitive +temperament and unused to crime; for she was in a fainting condition +when carried from the house, and he, with every inducement to +self-restraint, showed himself the victim of such powerful emotion that +he would have been immediately surrounded and questioned if he had not +set his burden down in the vestibule and at once plunged with the girl +into the passing crowd. Do you think you can find them, Sweetwater?"</p> + +<p>"Have you no clews to their identity beyond this parasol?"</p> + +<p>"None, Sweetwater, if you except these few faded rose leaves picked up +from the floor of Mr. Adams's study."</p> + +<p>"Then you have given me a problem, Mr. Gryce," remarked the young +detective dubiously, as he eyed the parasol held out to him and let the +rose-leaves drop carelessly through his fingers. "Somehow I do not feel +the same assurances of success that I did before. Perhaps I more fully +realize the difficulties of any such quest, now that I see how much +rests upon chance in these matters. If Miss Butterworth had not been a +precise woman, I should have failed in my former attempt, as I am likely +to fail in this one. But I will make another effort to locate the owner +of this parasol, if only to learn my business by failure. And now, sir, +where do you think I am going first? To a florist's, with these faded +rose-leaves. Just because every other young fellow on the force would +make a start from the parasol, I am going to try and effect one from +these rose-leaves. I may be an egotist, but I cannot help that. I can do +nothing with the parasol."</p> + +<p>"And what do you hope to do with the rose-leaves? How can a florist help +you in finding this young woman by means of them?"</p> + +<p>"He may be able to say from what kind of a rose they fell, and once I +know that, I may succeed in discovering the particular store from which +the bouquet was sold to this more or less conspicuous couple."</p> + +<p>"You may. I am not the man to throw cold water on any one's schemes. +Every man has his own methods, and till they are proved valueless I say +nothing."</p> + +<p>Young Sweetwater, who was now all nerve, enthusiasm, and hope, bowed. He +was satisfied to be allowed to work in his own way.</p> + +<p>"I may be back in an hour, and you may not see me for a week," he +remarked on leaving.</p> + +<p>"Luck to your search!" was the short reply. This ended the interview. In +a few minutes more Sweetwater was off.</p> + +<p>The hour passed; he did not come back; the day, and still no Sweetwater. +Another day went by, enlivened only by an interchange of notes between +Mr. Gryce and Miss Butterworth. Hers was read by the old detective with +a smile. Perhaps because it was so terse; perhaps because it was so +characteristic.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Mr. Gryce:</p> + +<p>I do not presume to dictate or even to offer a suggestion to the +New York police, but have you inquired of the postman in a certain +district whether he can recall the postmark on any of the letters +he delivered to Mr. Adams?</p> + +<p>A. B.</p></div> + +<p>His, on the contrary, was perused with a frown by his exacting colleague +in Gramercy Park. The reason is obvious.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Miss Butterworth:</p> + +<p>Suggestions are always in order, and even dictation can be endured +from you. The postman delivers too many letters on that block to +concern himself with postmarks. Sorry to close another +thoroughfare.</p> + +<p>E. G.</p></div> + +<p>Meanwhile, the anxiety of both was great; that of Mr. Gryce excessive. +He was consequently much relieved when, on the third morning, he found +Sweetwater awaiting him at the office, with a satisfied smile lighting +up his plain features. He had reserved his story for his special patron, +and as soon as they were closeted together he turned with beaming eyes +toward the old detective, crying:</p> + +<p>"News, sir; good news! I have found them; I have found them both, and by +such a happy stroke! It was a blind trail, but when the florist said +that those petals might have fallen from a bride rose—well, sir, I know +that any woman can carry bride roses, but when I remembered that the +clothes of her companion looked as though they had just come from the +tailor's, and that she wore gray and white—why, it gave me an idea, and +I began my search after this unknown pair at the Bureau of Vital +Statistics."</p> + +<p>"Brilliant!" ejaculated the old detective. "That is, if the thing +worked."</p> + +<p>"And it did, sir; it did. I may have been born under a lucky star, +probably was, but once started on this line of search, I went straight +to the end. Shall I tell you how? Hunting through the list of such +persons as had been married within the city limits during the last two +weeks, I came upon the name of one Eva Poindexter. Eva! that was a name +well-known in the house on —— Street. I decided to follow up this +Eva."</p> + +<p>"A wise conclusion! And how did you set about it?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I went directly to the clergyman who had performed the ceremony. +He was a kind and affable dominie, sir, and I had no trouble in talking +to him."</p> + +<p>"And you described the bride?"</p> + +<p>"No, I led the conversation so that he described her."</p> + +<p>"Good; and what kind of a woman did he make her out to be? Delicate? +Pale?"</p> + +<p>"Sir, he had not read the service for so lovely a bride in years. Very +slight, almost fragile, but beautiful, and with a delicate bloom which +showed her to be in better health than one would judge from her dainty +figure. It was a private wedding, sir, celebrated in a hotel parlor; but +her father was with her——"</p> + +<p>"Her father?" Mr. Gryce's theory received its first shock. Then the old +man who had laughed on leaving Mr. Adams's house was not the father to +whom those few lines in Mr. Adams's handwriting were addressed. Or this +young woman was not the person referred to in those lines.</p> + +<p>"Is there anything wrong about that?" inquired Sweetwater.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce became impassive again.</p> + +<p>"No; I had not expected his attendance at the wedding; that is all."</p> + +<p>"Sorry, sir, but there is no doubt about his having been there. The +bridegroom——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, tell me about the bridegroom."</p> + +<p>"Was the very man you described to me as leaving Mr. Adams's house with +her. Tall, finely developed, with a grand air and gentlemanly manners. +Even his clothes correspond with what you told me to expect: a checked +suit, brown in color, and of the latest cut. Oh, he is the man!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce, with a suddenly developed interest in the lid of his +inkstand, recalled the lines which Mr. Adams had written immediately +before his death, and found himself wholly at sea. How reconcile facts +so diametrically opposed? What allusion could there be in these lines to +the new-made bride of another man? They read, rather, as if she were his +own bride, as witness:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I return your daughter to you. She is here. Neither she nor you +will ever see me again. Remember Evelyn!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Amos's Son</span>.</p></div> + +<p>There must be something wrong. Sweetwater must have been led astray by a +series of extraordinary coincidences. Dropping the lid of the inkstand +in a way to make the young man smile, he looked up.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid it's been a fool chase, Sweetwater. The facts you relate in +regard to this couple, the fact of their having been married at all, +tally so little with what we have been led to expect from certain other +evidences which have come in——"</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, sir, but will you hear me out? At the Imperial, where they +were married, I learned that the father and daughter had registered as +coming from a small place in Pennsylvania; but I could learn nothing in +regard to the bridegroom. He had not appeared on the scene till the time +for the ceremony, and after the marriage was seen to take his bride away +in one carriage while the old gentleman departed in another. The latter +concerned me little; it was the young couple I had been detailed to +find. Employing the usual means of search, I tracked them to the +Waldorf, where I learned what makes it certain that I have been +following the right couple. On the afternoon of the very day of Mr. +Adams's death, this young husband and wife left the hotel on foot and +did not come back. Their clothes, which had all been left behind, were +taken away two days later by an elderly gentleman who said he was her +father and whose appearance coincides with that of the person +registering as such at the Imperial. All of which looks favorable to my +theory, does it not, especially when you remember that the bridegroom's +name——"</p> + +<p>"You have not told it."</p> + +<p>"Is Adams, Thomas Adams. Same family as the murdered man, you see. At +least, he has the same name."</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce surveyed the young man with admiration, but was not yet +disposed to yield him entire credence.</p> + +<p>"Humph! I do not wonder you thought it worth your while to follow up the +pair, if one of them is named Adams and the other Eva. But, Sweetwater, +the longer you serve on the force the more you will learn that +coincidences as strange and unexpected as these do occur at times, and +must be taken into account in the elucidation of a difficult problem. +Much as I may regret to throw cold water on your hopes, there are +reasons for believing that the young man and woman whom we are seeking +are not the ones you have busied yourself about for the last two days. +Certain facts which have come to light would seem to show that if she +had a husband at all, his name would not be Thomas Adams, but Felix, and +as the facts I have to bring forward are most direct and unimpeachable, +I fear you will have to start again, and on a new tack."</p> + +<p>But Sweetwater remained unshaken, and eyed his superior with a vague +smile playing about his lips.</p> + +<p>"You have not asked me, sir, where I have spent all the time which has +elapsed since I saw you last. The investigations I have mentioned did +not absorb more than a day."</p> + +<p>"Very true. Where have you been, Sweetwater?"</p> + +<p>"To Montgomery, sir, to that small town in Pennsylvania from which Mr. +Poindexter and his daughter registered."</p> + +<p>"Ah, I see! And what did you learn there? Something directly to the +point?"</p> + +<p>"I learned this, that John Poindexter, father of Eva, had for a friend +in early life one Amos Cadwalader."</p> + +<p>"Amos!" repeated Mr. Gryce, with an odd look.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and that this Amos had a son, Felix."</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>"You see, sir, we must be on the right track; coincidences cannot extend +through half a dozen names."</p> + +<p>"You are right. It is I who have made a mistake in drawing my +conclusions too readily. Let us hear about this Amos. You gathered +something of his history, no doubt."</p> + +<p>"All that was possible, sir. It is closely woven in with that of +Poindexter, and presents one feature which may occasion you no surprise, +but which, I own, came near nonplussing me. Though the father of Felix, +his name was not Adams. I say was not, for he has been dead six months. +It was Cadwalader. And Felix went by the name of Cadwalader, too, in the +early days of which I have to tell, he and a sister whose name——"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Was Evelyn."</p> + +<p>"Sweetwater, you are an admirable fellow. So the mystery is ours."</p> + +<p>"The history, not the mystery; that still holds. Shall I relate what I +know of those two families?"</p> + +<p>"At once: I am as anxious as if I were again twenty-three and had been +in your shoes instead of my own for the last three days."</p> + +<p>"Very well, sir. John Poindexter and Amos Cadwalader were, in their +early life, bosom friends. They had come from Scotland together and +settled in Montgomery in the thirties. Both married there, but John +Poindexter was a prosperous man from the first, while Cadwalader had +little ability to support a family, and was on the verge of bankruptcy +when the war of the rebellion broke out and he enlisted as a soldier. +Poindexter remained at home, caring for his own family and for the two +children of Cadwalader, whom he took into his own house. I say his own +family, but he had no family, save a wife, up to the spring of '80. Then +a daughter was born to him, the Eva who has just married Thomas Adams. +Cadwalader, who was fitted for army life, rose to be a captain; but he +was unfortunately taken prisoner at one of the late battles and confined +in Libby Prison, where he suffered the tortures of the damned till he +was released, in 1865, by a forced exchange of prisoners. Broken, old, +and crushed, he returned home, and no one living in the town at that +time will ever forget the day he alighted from the cars and took his way +up the main street. For not having been fortunate enough, or unfortunate +enough, perhaps, to receive any communication from home, he advanced +with a cheerful haste, not knowing that his only daughter then lay dead +in his friend's house, and that it was for her funeral that the people +were collecting in the green square at the end of the street. He was so +pale, broken, and decrepit that few knew him. But there was one old +neighbor who recognized him and was kind enough to lead him into a quiet +place, and there tell him that he had arrived just too late to see his +darling daughter alive. The shock, instead of prostrating the old +soldier, seemed to nerve him afresh and put new vigor into his limbs. He +proceeded, almost on a run, to Poindexter's house, and arrived just as +the funeral cortège was issuing from the door. And now happened a +strange thing. The young girl had been laid on an open bier, and was +being carried by six sturdy lads to her last resting place. As the +father's eye fell on her young body under its black pall, a cry of +mortal anguish escaped him, and he sank on his knees right in the line +of the procession.</p> + +<p>"At the same minute another cry went up, this time from behind the bier, +and John Poindexter could be seen reeling at the side of Felix +Cadwalader, who alone of all present (though he was the youngest and the +least) seemed to retain his self-possession at this painful moment. +Meanwhile the bereaved father, throwing himself at the side of the bier, +began tearing away at the pall in his desire to look upon the face of +her he had left in such rosy health four years before. But he was +stopped, not by Poindexter, who had vanished from the scene, but by +Felix, the cold, severe-looking boy who stood like a guard behind his +sister. Reaching out a hand so white it was in itself a shock, he laid +it in a certain prohibitory way on the pall, as if saying no. And when +his father would have continued the struggle, it was Felix who +controlled him and gradually drew him into the place at his own side +where a minute before the imposing figure of Poindexter had stood; after +which the bearers took up their burden again and moved on.</p> + +<p>"But the dramatic scene was not over. As they neared the churchyard +another procession, similar in appearance to their own, issued from an +adjoining street, and Evelyn's young lover, who had died almost +simultaneously with herself, was brought in and laid at her side. But +not in the same grave: this was noticed by all, though most eyes and +hearts were fixed upon Cadwalader, who had escaped his loathsome prison +and returned to the place of his affections for <i>this</i>.</p> + +<p>"Whether he grasped then and there the full meaning of this double +burial (young Kissam had shot himself upon hearing of Evelyn's death), +or whether all explanations were deferred till he and Felix walked away +together from the grave, has never transpired. From that minute till +they both left town on the following day, no one had any word with him, +save Poindexter, whom he went once to see, and young Kissam's mother, +who came once to see him. Like a phantom he had risen upon the sight of +the good people of Montgomery, and like a phantom he disappeared, never +to be seen by any of them again, unless, as many doubt, the story is +true which was told some twenty years ago by one of the little village +lads. He says (it was six years after the tragic scene I have just +related) that one evening as he was hurrying by the churchyard, in great +anxiety to reach home before it was too dark, he came upon the figure of +a man standing beside a grave, with a little child in his arms. This man +was tall, long-bearded, and terrifying. His attitude, as the lad +describes it, was one of defiance, if not of cursing. High in his right +hand he held the child, almost as if he would hurl him at the village +which lies under the hill on which the churchyard is perched; and though +the moment passed quickly, the boy, now a man, never has forgotten the +picture thus presented or admitted that it was anything but a real one. +As the description he gave of this man answered to the appearance of +Amos Cadwalader, and as the shoe of a little child was found next +morning on the grave of Cadwalader's daughter, Evelyn, it has been +thought by many that the boy really beheld this old soldier, who for +some mysterious reason had chosen nightfall for this fleeting visit to +his daughter's resting-place. But to others it was only a freak of the +lad's imagination, which had been much influenced by the reading of +romances. For, as these latter reasoned, had it really been Cadwalader, +why did he not show himself at John Poindexter's house—that old friend +who now had a little daughter and no wife and who could have made him so +comfortable? Among these was Poindexter himself, though some thought he +looked oddly while making this remark, as if he spoke more from custom +than from the heart. Indeed, since the unfortunate death of Evelyn in +his house, he had never shown the same interest in the Cadwaladers. But +then he was a man much occupied with great affairs, while the +Cadwaladers, except for their many griefs and misfortunes, were regarded +as comparatively insignificant people, unless we except Felix, who from +his earliest childhood had made himself feared even by grown people, +though he never showed a harsh spirit or exceeded the bounds of decorum +in speech or gesture. A year ago news came to Montgomery of Amos +Cadwalader's death, but no particulars concerning his family or burial +place. And that is all I have been able to glean concerning the +Cadwaladers."</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce had again become thoughtful.</p> + +<p>"Have you any reason to believe that Evelyn's death was not a natural +one?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir. I interviewed the old mother of the young man who shot himself +out of grief at Evelyn's approaching death, and if any doubt had existed +concerning a matter which had driven her son to a violent end, she could +not have concealed it from me. But there seemed to have been none. +Evelyn Cadwalader was always of delicate health, and when a quick +consumption carried her off no one marvelled. Her lover, who adored her, +simply could not live without her, so he shot himself. There was no +mystery about the tragic occurrence except that it seemed to sever an +old friendship that once was firm as a rock. I allude to that between +the Poindexters and Cadwaladers."</p> + +<p>"Yet in this tragedy which has just occurred in —— Street we see them +brought together again. Thomas Adams marries Eva Poindexter. But who is +Thomas Adams? You have not mentioned him in this history."</p> + +<p>"Not unless he was the child who was held aloft over Evelyn's grave."</p> + +<p>"Humph! That seems rather far-fetched. What did you learn about him in +Montgomery? Is he known there?"</p> + +<p>"As well as any stranger can be who spends his time in courting a young +girl. He came to Montgomery a few months ago, from some foreign +city—Paris, I think—and, being gifted with every personal charm +calculated to please a cultivated young woman, speedily won the +affections of Eva Poindexter, and also the esteem of her father. But +their favorable opinion is not shared by every one in the town. There +are those who have a good deal to say about his anxious and unsettled +eye."</p> + +<p>"Naturally; he could not marry all their daughters. But this history you +have given me: it is meagre, Sweetwater, and while it hints at something +deeply tragic, does not supply the key we want. A girl who died some +thirty years ago! A father who disappeared! A brother who, from being a +Cadwalader, has become an Adams! An Eva whose name, as well as that of +the long-buried Evelyn, was to be heard in constant repetition in the +place where the murdered Felix lay with those inscrutable lines in his +own writing, clinched between his teeth! It is a snarl, a perfect snarl, +of which we have as yet failed to pull the right thread. But we'll get +hold of it yet. I'm not going to be baffled in my old age by +difficulties I would have laughed at a dozen years ago."</p> + +<p>"But this right thread? How shall we know it among the fifty I see +entangled in this matter?"</p> + +<p>"First, find the whereabouts of this young couple—but didn't you tell +me you had done so; that you know where they are?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I learned from the postmaster in Montgomery that a letter +addressed to Mrs. Thomas Adams had been sent from his post-office to +Belleville, Long Island."</p> + +<p>"Ah! I know that place."</p> + +<p>"And wishing to be assured that the letter was not a pretense, I sent a +telegram to the postmaster at Belleville. Here is his answer. It is +unequivocal: 'Mr. Poindexter of Montgomery, Pa. Mr. Thomas Adams and +Mrs. Adams of the same place have been at the Bedell House in this place +five days.'"</p> + +<p>"Very good; then we have them! Be ready to start for Belleville by one +o'clock sharp. And mind, Sweetwater, keep your wits alert and your +tongue still. Remember that as yet we are feeling our way blindfold, and +must continue to do so till some kind hand tears away the bandage from +our eyes. Go! I have a letter to write, for which you may send in a boy +at the end of five minutes."</p> + +<p>This letter was for Miss Butterworth, and created, a half-hour later, +quite a stir in the fine old mansion in Gramercy Park. It ran thus:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Have you sufficient interest in the outcome of a certain matter to +take a short journey into the country? I leave town at 1 +<span class="smcap">P.M.</span> for Belleville, Long Island. If you choose to do the +same, you will find me at the Bedell House, in that town, early in +the afternoon. If you enjoy novels, take one with you, and let me +see you reading it on the hotel piazza at five o'clock. I may be +reading too; if so, and my choice is a book, all is well, and you +may devour your story in peace. But if I lay aside my book and take +up a paper, devote but one eye to your story and turn the other on +the people who are passing you. If after you have done so, you +leave your book open, I shall understand that you fail to recognize +these persons. But if you shut the volume, you may expect to see me +also fold up my newspaper; for by so doing you will have signaled +me that you have identified the young man and woman you saw leaving +Mr. Adams's house on the fatal afternoon of your first entrance. E. +G.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>MISERY.</h3> + + +<p>It is to be hoped that the well-dressed lady of uncertain age who was to +be seen late that afternoon in a remote corner of the hotel piazza at +Belleville had not chosen a tale requiring great concentration of mind, +for her eyes (rather fine ones in their way, showing both keenness and +good nature) seemed to find more to interest them in the scene before +her than in the pages she so industriously turned over.</p> + +<p>The scene was one calculated to interest an idle mind, no doubt. First, +there was the sea, a wide expanse of blue, dotted by numerous sails; +then the beach, enlivened by groups of young people dressed like +popinjays in every color; then the village street, and, lastly, a lawn +over which there now and then strayed young couples with tennis rackets +in their hands or golf sticks under their arms. Children, too—but +children did not seem to interest this amiable spinster. (There could be +no doubt about her being a spinster.) She scarcely glanced at them +twice, while a young married pair, or even an old gentleman, if he were +only tall and imperious-looking, invariably caused her eyes to wander +from her book, which, by the way, she held too near for seeing, or such +might have been the criticism of a wary observer.</p> + +<p>This criticism, if criticism it would be called, could not have been +made of the spruce, but rather feeble octogenarian at the other end of +the piazza. He was evidently absorbed in the novel he held so +conspicuously open, and which, from the smiles now and then disturbing +the usual placidity of his benevolent features, we can take for granted +was sufficiently amusing. Yet right in the midst of it, and certainly +before he had finished his chapter, he closed his book and took out a +newspaper, which he opened to its full width before sitting down to +peruse its columns. At the same moment the lady at the other end of the +piazza could be seen looking over her spectacles at two gentlemen who +just at that moment issued from the great door opening between her and +the elderly person just alluded to. Did she know them, or was it only +her curiosity that was aroused? From the way she banged together her +book and rose, it looked as if she had detected old acquaintances in the +distinguished-looking pair who were now advancing slowly toward her. But +if so, she could not have been overjoyed to see them, for after the +first hint of their approach in her direction she turned, with an aspect +of some embarrassment, and made her way out upon the lawn, where she +stood with her back to these people, caressing a small dog in a way that +betrayed her total lack of sympathy with these animals, which were +evidently her terror when she was sufficiently herself to be swayed by +her natural impulses.</p> + +<p>The two gentlemen, on the contrary, with an air of total indifference to +her proximity, continued their walk until they reached the end of the +piazza, and then turned and proceeded mechanically to retrace their +steps.</p> + +<p>Their faces now being brought within view of the elderly person who was +so absorbed in his newspaper, the latter shifted that sheet the merest +trifle, possibly because the sun struck his eyes too directly, possibly +because he wished to catch sight of two very remarkable men. If so, the +opportunity was good, as they stopped within a few feet of his chair. +One of them was elderly, as old as, if not older than, the man watching +him; but he was of that famous Scotch stock whose members are tough and +hale at eighty. This toughness he showed not only in his figure, which +was both upright and graceful, but in the glance of his calm, cold eye, +which fell upon everybody and everything unmoved, while that of his +young, but equally stalwart companion seemed to shrink with the most +acute sensitiveness from every person he met, save the very mild old +reader of news near whom they now paused for a half-dozen words of +conversation.</p> + +<p>"I don't think it does me any good," was the young man's gloomy remark. +"I am wretched when with her, and doubly wretched when I try to forget +myself for a moment out of her sight. I think we had better go back. I +had rather sit where she can see me than have her wonder—Oh, I will be +careful; but you must remember how unnerving is the very silence I am +obliged to keep about what is destroying us all. I am nearly as ill as +she."</p> + +<p>Here they drew off, and their apparently disinterested hearer turned the +page of his paper. It was five minutes before they came back. This time +it was the old gentleman who was speaking, and as he was more discreet +than his companion or less under the influence of his feelings, his +voice was lower and his words less easy to be distinguished.</p> + +<p>"Escape? South coast—she will forget to watch you for—a clinging +nature—impetuous, but foolishly affectionate—you know that—no +danger—found out—time—a cheerful home—courage—happiness—all +forgotten."</p> + +<p>A gesture from the young man as he moved away showed that he did not +share these hopes. Meanwhile Miss Butterworth—you surely have +recognized Miss Butterworth—had her opportunities too. She was still +stooping over the dog, which wriggled under her hand, yet did not offer +to run away, fascinated perhaps by that hesitating touch which he may or +may not have known had never inflicted itself upon a dog before. But her +ears, and attention, were turned toward two girls chatting on a bench +near her as freely as if they were quite alone on the lawn. They were +gossiping about a fellow-inmate of the big hotel, and Miss Butterworth +listened intently after hearing them mention the name Adams. These are +some of the words she caught:</p> + +<p>"But she is! I tell you she is sick enough to have a nurse and a doctor. +I caught a glimpse of her as I was going by her room yesterday, and I +never saw two such big eyes or such pale cheeks. Then, look at him! He +must just adore her, for he won't speak to another woman, and just moves +about in that small, hot room all day. I wonder if they are bride and +groom? They are young enough, and if you have noticed her clothes——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't talk about clothes. I saw her the first day she came, and was +the victim of despair until she suddenly got sick and so couldn't wear +those wonderful waists and jackets. I felt like a dowdy when I saw that +pale blue——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, blue becomes blondes. You would look like a fright in it. I +didn't care about her clothes, but I did feel that it was all up with us +if she chose to talk, or even to smile, upon the few men that are good +enough to stay out a week in this place. Yet she isn't a beauty; she has +not a good nose, nor a handsome eye, nor even an irreproachable +complexion. It must be her mouth, which is lovely, or her walk—did you +notice her walk? It was just as if she were floating; that is, before +she fell down in that faint. I wonder why she fainted. Nobody was doing +anything, not even her husband. But perhaps that was what troubled her. +I noticed that for some cause he was looking very serious—and when she +had tried to attract his attention two or three times and failed, she +just fell from her chair to the floor. That roused him. He has hardly +left her since."</p> + +<p>"I don't think they look very happy, do you, for so rich and handsome a +couple?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he is dissipated. I have noticed that the old gentleman never +leaves them."</p> + +<p>"Well, well, he may be dissipated; handsome men are very apt to be. But +I wouldn't care if——"</p> + +<p>Here the dog gave a yelp and bolted. Miss Butterworth had unconsciously +pinched him, in her indignation, possibly, at the turn these +rattle-pated young ladies' conversation was taking. This made a +diversion, and the young girls moved off, leaving Miss Butterworth +without occupation. But a young man who at that moment crossed her path +gave her enough to think about.</p> + +<p>"You recognize them? There is no mistake?" he whispered.</p> + +<p>"None; the one this way is the young man I saw leave Mr. Adams's house, +and the other is the old gentleman who came in afterward."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Gryce advises you to return home. He is going to arrest the young +man." And Sweetwater passed on.</p> + +<p>Miss Butterworth strolled to a seat and sat down. She felt weak; she +seemed to see that young wife, sick, overwhelmed, struggling with her +great fear, sink under this crushing blow, with no woman near her +capable of affording the least sympathy. The father did not impress her +as being the man to hold up her fainting head or ease her bruised heart. +He had an icy look under his polished exterior which repelled this +keen-eyed spinster, and as she remembered the coldness of his ways, she +felt herself seized by an irresistible impulse to be near this young +creature when the blow fell, if only to ease the tension of her own +heartstrings, which at that moment ached keenly over the part she had +felt herself obliged to play in this matter.</p> + +<p>But when she rose to look for Mr. Gryce, she found him gone; and upon +searching the piazza for the other two gentlemen, she saw them just +vanishing round the corner in the direction of a small smoking-room. As +she could not follow them, she went upstairs, and, meeting a maid in the +upper hall, asked for Mrs. Adams. She was told that Mrs. Adams was sick, +but was shown the door of her room, which was at the end of a long hall. +As all the halls terminated in a window under which a sofa was to be +found, she felt that circumstances were in her favor, and took her seat +upon the sofa before her in a state of great complacency. Instantly a +sweet voice was heard through the open transom of the door behind which +her thoughts were already concentrated.</p> + +<p>"Where is Tom? Oh, where is Tom? Why does he leave me? I'm afraid of +what he may be tempted to do or say down on those great piazzas alone."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Poindexter is with him," answered a voice, measured, but kind. "Mr. +Adams was getting very tired, and your father persuaded him to go down +and have a smoke."</p> + +<p>"I must get up; indeed I must get up. Oh! the camphor—the——"</p> + +<p>There was a bustle; this poor young wife had evidently fainted again.</p> + +<p>Miss Butterworth cast very miserable glances at the door.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile in that small and retired smoking-room a terrible scene was in +progress. The two gentlemen had lit their cigars and were sitting in +certain forced attitudes that evinced their non-enjoyment of the weed +each had taken out of complaisance to the other, when an old man, +strangely serious, strangely at home, yet as strangely a guest of the +house like themselves, came in, and shut the door behind him.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," he at once announced, "I am Detective Gryce of the New York +police, and I am here—but I see that one of you at least knows why I am +here."</p> + +<p>One? Both of them! This was evident in a moment. No denial, no +subterfuge was possible. At the first word uttered in the strange, +authoritative tone which old detectives acquire after years of such +experiences, the young man sank down in sudden collapse, while his +companion, without yielding so entirely to his emotions, showed that he +was not insensible to the blow which, in one moment, had brought +destruction to all their hopes.</p> + +<p>When Mr. Gryce saw himself so completely understood, he no longer +hesitated over his duty. Directing his full attention to Mr. Adams, he +said, this time with some feeling, for the misery of this young man had +impressed him:</p> + +<p>"You are wanted in New York by Coroner D——, whose business it is to +hold an inquest over the remains of Mr. Felix Adams, of whose +astonishing death you are undoubtedly informed. As you and your wife +were seen leaving that gentleman's house a few minutes before he +expired, you are naturally regarded as valuable witnesses in determining +whether his death was one of suicide or murder."</p> + +<p>It was an accusation, or so nearly one, that Mr. Gryce was not at all +surprised to behold the dark flush of shame displace the livid terror +which but an instant before had made the man before him look like one of +those lost spirits we sometimes imagine as flitting across the open +mouth of hell. But he said nothing, seemingly had no power to do so, and +his father-in-law was about to make some effort to turn aside this blow +when a voice in the hall outside was heard inquiring for Mr. Adams, +saying that his wife had fainted again and required his help.</p> + +<p>The young husband started, cast a look full of despair at Mr. +Poindexter, and thrusting his hand against the door as if to hold it +shut, sank on his knees before Mr. Gryce, saying:</p> + +<p>"She knows! She suspects! Her nature is so sensitive."</p> + +<p>This he managed to utter in gasps as the detective bent compassionately +over him. "Don't, don't disturb her! She is an angel, a saint from +heaven. Let me bear the blame—he was my brother—let me go with you, +but leave her in ignorance——"</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce, with a vivid sense of justice, laid his hand on the young +man's arm.</p> + +<p>"Say nothing," he enjoined. "My memory is good, and I would rather hear +nothing from your lips. As for your wife, my warrant does in no way +include her; and if you promise to come with me quietly, I will even let +you bid her adieu, so that you do it in my presence."</p> + +<p>The change which passed over the young man's face at these significant +words was of a nature to surprise Mr. Gryce. Rising slowly, he took his +stand by Mr. Poindexter, who, true to his inflexible nature, had +scarcely moved in limb and feature since Mr. Gryce came in.</p> + +<p>"What have you against me?" he demanded. And there was a surprising ring +to his voice, as if courage had come with the necessity of the moment. +"Of what am I accused? I want you to tell me. I had rather you would +tell me in so many words. I cannot leave in peace until you do."</p> + +<p>Mr. Poindexter made a movement at this, and cast a half-suspicious, +half-warning glance at his son-in-law. But the young man took no notice +of his interference. He kept his eye on the detective, who quietly took +out his warrant.</p> + +<p>At this instant the door shook.</p> + +<p>"Lock it!" was the hoarse command of the accused man. "Don't let any one +pass that door, even if it is to bring the tidings of my wife's death."</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce reached out his hand, and turned the key in the lock. Young +Adams opened the paper which he had taken from the detective's hand, and +while his blood-shot eyes vainly sought to master the few lines there +written, Mr. Poindexter attracted the attention of Mr. Gryce, and, +fixing him with his eye, formed his lips with three soundless words:</p> + +<p>"For murder? Him?"</p> + +<p>The detective's bow and a very long-drawn sigh from his son-in-law +answered him simultaneously. With a curious lift of his upper lip, which +showed his teeth somewhat unpleasantly for a moment, he drew back a +step, and sank into his previous immobility.</p> + +<p>"I am indebted to you," declared the young man. "Now I know where I +stand. I am quite ready to go with you and stand trial, if such be +deemed necessary by the officials in New York. You," he cried, turning +with almost an air of command to the old gentleman beside him, "will +watch over Eva. Not like a father, sir, but like a mother. You will be +at her side when she wakes, and, if possible, leave her only when she +sleeps. Do not let her suffer—not too much. No newspapers, no gossiping +women. Watch! watch! as I would watch, and when I come back—for I will +come back, will I not?" he appealed to Mr. Gryce, "my prayers will bless +you and——" A sob stuck in his throat, and he turned for a minute +aside; then he took the detective's arm quite calmly and remarked:</p> + +<p>"I do not want to say good-by to my wife. I cannot bear it. I had rather +go straight from here without another glance at her unconscious face. +When I have told my story, for I shall tell it to the first man who asks +me, I may find courage to write her. Meanwhile, get me away as quickly +as you can. Time enough for the world to know my shame to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce tapped on the window overlooking the piazza. A young man +stepped in.</p> + +<p>"Here is a gentleman," he cried, "who finds himself forced to return in +great haste to New York. See that he gets to the train in time, without +fuss and without raising the least comment. I will follow with his +portmanteau. Mr. Poindexter, you are now at liberty to attend your +suffering daughter." And with a turn of the key, he unlocked the door, +and one of the most painful scenes of his long life was over.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3>THOMAS EXPLAINS.</h3> + + +<p>Mr. Gryce was not above employing a little finesse. He had expressed his +intention of following Mr. Adams, and he did follow him, but so +immediately that he not only took the same train, but sat in the same +car. He wished to note at his leisure the bearing of this young man, who +interested him in quite a different way from what he had anticipated, a +way that vaguely touched his own conscience and made him feel his years +as he had no right to feel them when he had just brought to an end an +intricate and difficult pursuit.</p> + +<p>Seated at a distance, he watched with increasing interest the changes +which passed over his prisoner's handsome countenance. He noted the +calmness which now marked the features he had so lately seen writhing in +deepest agony, and wondered from what source the strength came which +enabled this young man to sit so stoically under the eyes of people from +whose regard, an hour before, he had shrunk with such apparent +suffering. Was it that courage comes with despair? Or was he too +absorbed in his own misery to note the shadow it cast about him? His +brooding brow and vacant eye spoke of a mind withdrawn from present +surroundings. Into what depths of remorse, who could say? Certainly not +this old detective, seasoned though he was by lifelong contact with +criminals, some of them of the same social standing and cultured aspect +as this young man.</p> + +<p>At the station in Brooklyn he rejoined his prisoner, who scarcely looked +up as he approached. In another hour they were at Police Headquarters +and the serious questioning of Mr. Adams had begun.</p> + +<p>He did not attempt to shirk it. Indeed, he seemed anxious to talk. He +had a burden on his mind, and longed to throw it off. But the burden was +not of the exact nature anticipated by the police. He did not +acknowledge having killed his brother, but confessed to having been the +incidental cause of that brother's death. The story he told was this:</p> + +<p>"My name is Cadwalader, not Adams. My father, a Scotchman by birth, was +a naturalized citizen of Pennsylvania, having settled in a place called +Montgomery when a young married man. He had two children then, one of +whom died in early life; the other was my brother Felix, whose violent +death under the name of Adams you have called me here to explain. I am +the fruit of a later marriage, entered into by my father some years +after leaving Montgomery. When I was born he was living in Harrisburg, +but, as he left there shortly after I had reached my third year, I have +no remembrances connected with that city. Indeed, my recollections are +all of very different scenes than this country affords. My mother having +died while I was still an infant, I was sent very early in life to the +Old World, from which my father had originally come. When I returned, +which was not till this very year, I found my father dying, and my +brother a grown man with money—a great deal of money—which I had been +led to think he was ready to share with me. But after my father was laid +away, Felix" (with what effort he uttered that name!) "Felix came to New +York, and I was left to wander about without settled hopes or any +definite promise of means upon which to base a future or start a career. +While wandering, I came upon the town where my father had lived in early +youth, and, hunting up his old friends, I met in the house of one who +had come over from Scotland with my father a young lady" (how his voice +shook, and with what a poignant accent he uttered that beloved name) "in +whom I speedily became interested to the point of wishing to marry her. +But I had no money, no business, no home to give her, and, as I was fain +to acknowledge, no prospects. Still I could not give up the hope of +making her my wife. So I wrote to my brother, Felix Cadwalader, or, +rather, Felix Adams, as he preferred to be called in later years for +family reasons entirely disconnected with the matter of his sudden +demise, and, telling him I had become interested in a young girl of good +family and some wealth, asked him to settle upon me a certain sum which +would enable me to marry her with some feeling of self-respect. My only +answer was a repetition of the vague promise he had thrown out before. +But youth is hopeful, even to daring, and I decided to make her mine +without further parley, in the hope that her beauty and endearing +qualities would win from him, at first view, the definite concession he +had so persistently denied me.</p> + +<p>"This I did, and the fault with which I have most to reproach myself is +that I entered into this alliance without taking her or her father into +my confidence. They thought me well off, possibly rich, and while Mr. +Poindexter is a man of means, I am sure, if he had known I had nothing +but the clothes I wore and the merest trifle in the way of pocket money, +he would have cried halt to the marriage, for he is a very ambitious man +and considers his daughter well worth a millionaire's devotion—as she +is.</p> + +<p>"Felix (you must pardon me if I show no affection for my brother—he was +a very strange man) was notified of my marriage, but did not choose to +witness it, neither did he choose to prohibit it; so it was conducted +quietly, with strangers for witnesses, in a hotel parlor. Then, with +vague hopes, as well as certain vague fears, I prepared to take my young +bride into the presence of my brother, who, hardened as he was by years +of bachelorhood, could not be so entirely impervious to feminine charms +as not to recognize my wife as a woman deserving of every consideration.</p> + +<p>"But I had counted without my host. When, two days after the ceremony +which had made us one, I took her to the house which has since become so +unhappily notorious, I found that my brother had but shown me one facet, +and that the least obdurate, of his many-sided nature.</p> + +<p>"Brilliant as steel, he was as hard, and not only professed himself +unmoved by my wife's many charms, but also as totally out of sympathy +with such follies as love and marriage, which were, he said, the fruit +of unoccupied minds and a pastime wholly unworthy of men boasting of +such talents and attainments as ourselves. Then he turned his back upon +us, and I, moved by an anger little short of frenzy, began an abuse for +which he was so little prepared that he crouched like a man under blows, +and, losing minute by minute his self-control, finally caught up a +dagger lying close at hand, and crying, 'You want my money? Well, then, +take it!' stabbed himself to the heart with one desperate blow.</p> + +<p>"I fear I shall not be believed, but that is the story of this crime, +gentlemen."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<h3>DESPAIR.</h3> + + +<p>Was it? Tragedies as unpremeditated as this had doubtless occurred, and +inconsistencies in character shown themselves in similar impetuosities, +from the beginning of time up till now. Yet there was not a man present, +with or without the memory of Bartow's pantomime, which, as you will +recall, did not tally at all with this account of Mr. Adams's violent +end, who did not show in a greater or less degree his distrust and +evident disbelief in this tale, poured out with such volubility before +them.</p> + +<p>The young man, gifted as he was with the keenest susceptibilities, +perceived this, and his head drooped.</p> + +<p>"I shall add nothing to and take nothing from what I have said," was his +dogged remark. "Make of it what you will."</p> + +<p>The inspector who was conducting the inquiry glanced dubiously at Mr. +Gryce as these words left Thomas Adams's lips; whereupon the detective +said:</p> + +<p>"We are sorry you have taken such a resolution. There are many things +yet left to be explained, Mr. Adams; for instance, why, if your brother +slew himself in this unforeseen manner, you left the house so +precipitately, without giving an alarm or even proclaiming your +relationship to him?"</p> + +<p>"You need not answer, you know," the inspector's voice broke in. "No man +is called upon to incriminate himself in this free and independent +country."</p> + +<p>A smile, the saddest ever seen, wandered for a minute over the +prisoner's pallid lips. Then he lifted his head and replied with a +certain air of desperation:</p> + +<p>"Incrimination is not what I fear now. From the way you all look at me I +perceive that I am lost, for I have no means of proving my story."</p> + +<p>This acknowledgment, which might pass for the despairing cry of an +innocent man, made his interrogator stare.</p> + +<p>"You forget," suggested that gentleman, "that you had your wife with +you. She can corroborate your words, and will prove herself, no doubt, +an invaluable witness in your favor."</p> + +<p>"My wife!" he repeated, choking so that his words could be barely +understood. "Must she be dragged into this—so sick, so weak a woman? It +would kill her, sir. She loves me—she——"</p> + +<p>"Was she with you in Mr. Adams's study? Did she see him lift the dagger +against his own breast?"</p> + +<p>"No." And with this denial the young man seemed to take new courage. +"She had fainted several moments previously, while the altercation +between my brother and myself was at its height. She did not see the +final act, and—gentlemen, I might as well speak the truth (I have +nothing to gain by silence), she finds it as difficult as you do to +believe that Mr. Adams struck himself. I—I have tried with all my arts +to impress the truth upon her, but oh, what can I hope from the world +when the wife of my bosom—an angel, too, who loves me—oh, sirs, she +can never be a witness for me; she is too conscientious, too true to her +own convictions. I should lose—she would die——"</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce tried to stop him; he would not be stopped.</p> + +<p>"Spare me, sirs! Spare my wife! Write me down guilty, anything you +please, rather than force that young creature to speak——"</p> + +<p>Here the inspector cut short these appeals which were rending every +heart present. "Have you read the newspapers for the last few days?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>"I? Yes, yes, sir. How could I help it? Blood is blood; the man was my +brother; I had left him dying—I was naturally anxious, naturally saw my +own danger, and I read them, of course."</p> + +<p>"Then you know he was found with a large cross on his breast, a cross +which was once on the wall. How came it to be torn down? Who put it on +his bosom?"</p> + +<p>"I, sir. I am not a Catholic but Felix was, and seeing him dying without +absolution, without extreme unction, I thought of the holy cross, and +tore down the only one I saw, and placed it in his arms."</p> + +<p>"A pious act. Did he recognize it?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot say. I had my fainting wife to look after. She occupied all my +thoughts."</p> + +<p>"I see, and you carried her out and were so absorbed in caring for her +you did not observe Mr. Adams's valet——"</p> + +<p>"He's innocent, sir. Whatever people may think, he had nothing to do +with this crime——"</p> + +<p>"You did not observe him, I say, standing in the doorway and watching +you?"</p> + +<p>Now the inspector knew that Bartow had not been standing there, but at +the loophole above; but the opportunity for entrapping the witness was +too good to lose.</p> + +<p>Mr. Adams was caught in the trap, or so one might judge from the beads +of perspiration which at that moment showed themselves on his pale +forehead. But he struggled to maintain the stand he had taken, crying +hotly:</p> + +<p>"But that man is crazy, and deaf-and-dumb besides! or so the papers give +out. Surely his testimony is valueless. You would not confront me with +him?"</p> + +<p>"We confront you with no one. We only asked you a question. You did not +observe the valet, then?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"Or understand the mystery of the colored lights?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"Or of the plate of steel and the other contrivances with which your +brother enlivened his solitude?"</p> + +<p>"I do not follow you, sir." But there was a change in his tone.</p> + +<p>"I see," said the inspector, "that the complications which have +disturbed us and made necessary this long delay in the collection of +testimony have not entered into the crime as described by you. Now this +is possible; but there is still a circumstance requiring explanation; a +little circumstance, which is, nevertheless, one of importance, since +your wife mentioned it to you as soon as she became conscious. I allude +to the half dozen or more words which were written by your brother +immediately preceding his death. The paper on which they were written +has been found, and that it was a factor in your quarrel is evident, +since she regretted that it had been left behind you, and he—Do you +know where we found this paper?"</p> + +<p>The eyes which young Adams raised at this interrogatory had no +intelligence in them. The sight of this morsel of paper seemed to have +deprived him in an instant of all the faculties with which he had been +carrying on this unequal struggle. He shook his head, tried to reach out +his hand, but failed to grasp the scrap of paper which the inspector +held out. Then he burst into a loud cry:</p> + +<p>"Enough! I cannot hold out, with no other support than a wicked lie. I +killed my brother for reasons good as any man ever had for killing +another. But I shall not impart them. I would rather be tried for murder +and hanged."</p> + +<p>It was a complete breakdown, pitiful from its contrast with the man's +herculean physique and fine, if contracted, features. If the end, it was +a sad end, and Mr. Gryce, whose forehead had taken on a deep line +between the eyebrows, slowly rose and took his stand by the young man, +who looked ready to fall. The inspector, on the contrary, did not move. +He had begun a tattoo with his fingers on the table, and seemed bound to +beat it out, when another sudden cry broke from the young man's lips:</p> + +<p>"What is that?" he demanded, with his eyes fixed on the door, and his +whole frame shaking violently.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," began the inspector, when the door suddenly opened and the +figure of a woman white as a wraith and wonderful with a sort of holy +passion darted from the grasp of a man who sought to detain her, and +stood before them, palpitating with a protest which for a moment she +seemed powerless to utter.</p> + +<p>It was Adams's young, invalid wife, whom he had left three hours before +at Belleville. She was so frail of form, so exquisite of feature, that +she would have seemed some unearthly visitant but for the human anguish +which pervaded her look and soon found vent in this touching cry:</p> + +<p>"What is he saying? Oh, I know well what he is saying. He is saying that +he killed his brother, that he held the dagger which rid the world of a +monster of whose wickedness none knew. But you must not heed him. Indeed +you must not heed him. He is innocent; I, his wife, have come twenty +miles, from a bed of weakness and suffering, to tell you so. He——"</p> + +<p>But here a hand was laid gently, but firmly on her mouth. She looked up, +met her husband's eyes filled with almost frantic appeal, and giving him +a look in return that sank into the heart of every man who beheld it, +laid her own hand on his and drew it softly away.</p> + +<p>"It is too late, Tom, I must speak. My father, my own weakness, or your +own peremptory commands could not keep me at Belleville when I knew you +had been brought here. And shall I stop now, in the presence of these +men who have heard your words and may believe them? No, that would be a +cowardice unworthy of our love and the true lives we hope to lead +together. Sirs!" and each man there held his breath to catch the words +which came in faint and fainter intonation from her lips, "I know my +husband to be innocent, because the hand that held the dagger was mine. +I killed Felix Cadwalader!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The horror of such a moment is never fully realized till afterward. Not +a man there moved, not even her husband, yet on every cheek a slow +pallor was forming, which testified to the effect of such words from +lips made for smiles and showing in every curve the habit of gentle +thought and the loftiest instincts. Not till some one cried out from the +doorway, "Catch her! she is falling!" did any one stir or release the +pent-up breath which awe and astonishment had hitherto held back on +every lip. Then he in whose evident despair all could read the real +cause of the great dread which had drawn him into a false confession, +sprang forward, and with renewed life showing itself in every feature, +caught her in his arms. As he staggered with her to a sofa and laid her +softly down, he seemed another man in look and bearing; and Mr. Gryce, +who had been watching the whole wonderful event with the strongest +interest, understood at once the meaning of the change which had come +over his prisoner at that point in his memorable arrest when he first +realized that it was for himself they had come, and not for the really +guilty person, the idolized object of his affections.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, he was facing them all, with one hand laid tenderly on that +unconscious head.</p> + +<p>"Do not think," he cried, "that because this young girl has steeped her +hand in blood, she is a wicked woman. There is no purer heart on earth +than hers, and none more worthy of the worship of a true man. See! she +killed my brother, son of my father, beloved by my mother, yet I can +kiss her hand, kiss her forehead, her eyes, her feet, not because I hate +him, but because I worship her, the purest—the best——" He left her, +and came and stood before those astonished men. "Sirs!" he cried, "I +must ask you to listen to a strange, a terrible tale."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<h3>MEMORANDA.</h3> + + +<p>"It is like and unlike what I have just related to you," began young +Adams. "In my previous confession I mixed truth and falsehood, and to +explain myself fully and to help you to a right understanding of my +wife's act, I shall have to start afresh and speak as if I had already +told you nothing."</p> + +<p>"Wait!" cried Mr. Gryce, in an authoritative manner. "We will listen to +you presently;" and, leaning over the inspector, he whispered a few +words, after which he took out a pencil and jotted down certain +sentences, which he handed over to this gentleman.</p> + +<p>As they had the appearance of a memorandum, and as the inspector glanced +more than once at them while Mr. Adams (or Cadwalader, as he should now +rightfully be called) was proceeding with his story, I will present them +to you as written.</p> + +<p>Points to be made clear by Mr. Adams in his account of this crime:</p> + +<p>1. Why a woman who was calm enough to stop and arrange her hair during +the beginning of an interview should be wrought up to such a pitch of +frenzy and exasperation before it was over as to kill with her own hand +a man against whom she had evidently no previous grudge. (Remember the +comb found on the floor of Mr. Adams's bedroom.)</p> + +<p>2. What was the meaning of the following words, written just previous to +this interview by the man thus killed: "I return you your daughter. +Neither you nor she shall ever see me again. Remember Evelyn!"</p> + +<p>3. Why was the pronoun "I" used in this communication? What position did +Mr. Felix Adams hold toward this young girl qualifying him to make use +of such language after her marriage to his brother?</p> + +<p>4. And having used it, why did he, upon being attacked by her, attempt +to swallow the paper upon which he had written these words, actually +dying with it clinched between his teeth?</p> + +<p>5. If he was killed in anger and died as monsters do (her own word), why +did his face show sorrow rather than hate, and a determination as far as +possible removed from the rush of over-whelming emotions likely to follow +the reception of a mortal blow from the hand of an unexpected +antagonist?</p> + +<p>6. Why, if he had strength to seize the above-mentioned paper and convey +it to his lips, did he not use that strength in turning on a light +calculated to bring him assistance, instead of leaving blazing the +crimson glow which, according to the code of signals as now understood +by us, means: "Nothing more required just now. Keep away."</p> + +<p>7. What was the meaning of the huge steel plate found between the +casings of the doorway, and why did it remain at rest within its socket +at this, the culminating moment of his life?</p> + +<p>8. An explanation of how old Poindexter came to appear on the scene so +soon after the event. His words as overheard were: "It is Amos's son, +not Amos!" Did he not know whom he was to meet in this house? Was the +condition of the man lying before him with a cross on his bosom and a +dagger in his heart less of a surprise to him than the personality of +the victim?</p> + +<p>9. Remember the conclusions we have drawn from Bartow's pantomime. Mr. +Adams was killed by a left-handed thrust. Watch for an acknowledgment +that the young woman is left-handed, and do not forget that an +explanation is due why for so long a time she held her other arm +stretched out behind her.</p> + +<p>10. Why did the bird whose chief cry is "Remember Evelyn!" sometimes +vary it with "Poor Eva! Lovely Eva! Who would strike Eva?" The story of +this tragedy, to be true, must show that Mr. Adams knew his brother's +bride both long and well.</p> + +<p>11. If Bartow is, as we think, innocent of all connection with this +crime save as witness, why does he show such joy at its result? This may +not reasonably be expected to fall within the scope of Thomas Adams's +confession, but it should not be ignored by us. This deaf-and-dumb +servitor was driven mad by a fact which caused him joy. Why?</p> + +<p>12. Notice the following schedule. It has been drawn up after repeated +experiments with Bartow and the various slides of the strange lamp which +cause so many different lights to shine out in Mr. Adams's study:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">White light—Water wanted.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Green light—Overcoat and hat to be brought.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blue light—Put back books on shelves.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Violet light—Arrange study for the night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yellow light—Watch for next light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red light—Nothing wanted; stay away.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The last was on at the final scene. Note if this fact can be explained +by Mr. Adams's account of the same.</p> + +<p>With these points in our mind, let us peruse the history of this crime +and of the remote and possibly complicated causes which led to it.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOOK_II" id="BOOK_II"></a>BOOK II</h2> + +<h3>REMEMBER EVELYN</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_Ia" id="CHAPTER_Ia"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>THE SECRET OF THE CADWALADERS.</h3> + + +<p>Thomas Cadwalader suggested rather than told his story. We dare not +imitate him in this, nor would it be just to your interest to relate +these facts with all the baldness and lack of detail imposed upon this +unhappy man by the hurry and anxiety of the occasion. Remarkable +tragedies have their birth in remarkable facts, and as such facts are +but the outcome of human passions, we must enter into those passions if +we would understand either the facts or their appalling consequences. In +this case, the first link of the chain which led to Felix Adams's +violent death was forged before the birth of the woman who struck him. +We must begin, then, with almost forgotten days, and tell the story, as +her pleader did, from the standpoint of Felix and Thomas Cadwalader.</p> + +<p>Thomas Cadwalader—now called Adams—never knew his mother; she died in +his early infancy. Nor could he be said to have known his father, having +been brought up in France by an old Scotch lawyer, who, being related to +his mother, sometimes spoke of her, but never of his father, till Thomas +had reached his fifteenth year. Then he put certain books into his +hands, with this remarkable injunction:</p> + +<p>"Here are romances, Thomas. Read them; but remember that none of them, +no matter how thrilling in matter or effect, will ever equal the story +of your father's bitterly wronged and suffering life."</p> + +<p>"My father!" he cried; "tell me about him; I have never heard."</p> + +<p>But his guardian, satisfied with an allusion which he knew must bear +fruit in the extremely susceptible nature of this isolated boy, said no +more that day, and Thomas turned to the books. But nothing after that +could ever take his mind away from his father. He had scarcely thought +of him for years, but now that that father had been placed before him in +the light of a wronged man, he found himself continually hunting back in +the deepest recesses of his memory for some long-forgotten recollection +of that father's features calculated to restore his image to his eyes. +Sometimes he succeeded in this, or thought he did; but this image, if +image it was, was so speedily lost in a sensation of something strange +and awe-compelling enveloping it, that he found himself more absorbed by +the intangible impressions associated with this memory than by the +memory itself. What were these impressions, and in what had they +originated? In vain he tried to determine. They were as vague as they +were persistent. A stretch of darkness—two bars of orange light, always +shining, always the same—black lines against these bars, like the tops +of distant gables—an inner thrill—a vague affright—a rush about him +as of a swooping wind—all this came with his father's image, only to +fade away with it, leaving him troubled, uneasy, and perplexed. Finding +these impressions persistent, and receiving no explanation of them in +his own mind, he finally asked his guardian what they meant. But that +guardian was as ignorant as himself on this topic; and satisfied with +having roused the boy's imagination, confined himself to hints, dropped +now and then with a judiciousness which proved the existence of a +deliberate purpose, of some duty which awaited him on the other side of +the water, a duty which would explain his long exile from his only +parent and for which he must fit himself by study and the acquirement of +such accomplishments as render a young man a positive power in society, +whether that society be of the Old World or the New. He showed his +shrewdness in thus dealing with this pliable and deeply affectionate +nature. From this time forth Thomas felt himself leading a life of +mystery and interest.</p> + +<p>To feel himself appointed for a work whose unknown character only +heightened its importance gave point to every effort now made by this +young man, and lent to his studies that vague touch of romance which +made them a delight, and him an adept in many things he might otherwise +have cared little about. At eighteen he was a graduate from the +Sorbonne, and a musical virtuoso as well. He could fence, ride, and +carry off the prize in games requiring physical prowess as well as +mental fitness. He was, in fact, a prodigy in many ways, and was so +considered by his fellow-students. He, however, was not perfect; he +lacked social charm, and in so far failed of being the complete +gentleman. This he was made to realize in the following way:</p> + +<p>One morning his guardian came to him with a letter from his father, in +which, together with some words of commendation for his present +attainments, that father expressed a certain dissatisfaction with his +general manner as being too abrupt and self-satisfied with those of his +own sex, and much too timid and deprecatory with those of the other. +Thomas felt the criticism and recognized its justice; but how had his +father, proved by his letter to be no longer a myth, become acquainted +with defects which Thomas instinctively felt could never have attracted +the attention of his far from polished guardian?</p> + +<p>His questions on this point elicited a response that confounded him. He +was not the only son of his father; he had a brother living, and this +brother, older than himself by some twenty years or more, had just been +in Paris, where, in all probability, he had met him, talked with him, +and perhaps pressed his hand.</p> + +<p>It was a discovery calculated to deepen the impression already made upon +Thomas's mind. Only a purpose of the greatest importance could account +for so much mystery. What could it be? What was he destined to do or say +or be? He was not told, but while awaiting enlightenment he was resolved +not to be a disappointment to the two anxious souls who watched his +career so eagerly and exacted from him such perfection. He consequently +moderated his manner, and during the following year acquired by constant +association with the gilded youth about him that indescribable charm of +the perfect gentleman which he was led to believe would alone meet with +the approval of those he now felt bound to please. At the end of the +year he found himself a finished man of the world. How truly so, he +began to realize when he noted the blush with which his presence was +hailed by women and the respect shown him by men of his own stamp. In +the midst of the satisfaction thus experienced his guardian paid him a +final visit.</p> + +<p>"You are now ready," said he, "for your father's summons. It will come +in a few weeks. Be careful, then. Form no ties you cannot readily break; +for, once recalled from France, you are not likely to return here. What +your father's purpose concerning you may be I do not know, but it is no +ordinary one. You will have money, a well-appointed home, family +affection, all that you have hitherto craved in vain, and in return you +will carry solace to a heart which has awaited your healing touch for +twenty years. So much I am ordered to say; the rest you will hear from +your father's own lips."</p> + +<p>Aroused, encouraged, animated by the wildest hopes, the most extravagant +anticipations, Thomas awaited his father's call with feverish +impatience, and when it came, hastened to respond to it by an immediate +voyage to America. This was some six months previous to the tragedy in +---- Street. On his arrival at the wharf in New York he was met, not by +his brother, as he had every reason to expect, but by a messenger in +whose face evil tidings were apparent before he spoke. Thomas was soon +made acquainted with them. His father, who he now learned was called +Cadwalader (he himself had always been called Adams), was ill, possibly +dying. He must therefore hasten, and, being provided with minute +instructions as to his way, took the train at once for a small village +in northern Pennsylvania.</p> + +<p>All that followed was a dream to him. He was hurried through the night, +with the motion of the ship still in his blood, to meet—what? He dared +not think. He swam in a veritable nightmare. Then came a stop, a +hurrying from the train, a halt on a platform reeking with rain (for the +night was stormy), a call from some one to hurry, the sight of a panting +horse steaming under a lamp whose blowing flame he often woke in after +nights to see, a push from a persuasive hand, then a ride over a country +road the darkness of which seemed impenetrable, and, finally, the +startling vision of an open door, with a Meg Merrilies of a woman +standing in it, holding a flaming candle in her hand. The candle went +out while he looked at it, and left only a voice to guide him—a voice +which, in tones shaken by chill or feeling, he could not tell which, +cried eagerly:</p> + +<p>"Is that you, laddie? Come awa in. Come awa in. Dinna heed the rain. The +maister's been crying on you a' day. I'm glad you're no ower late."</p> + +<p>He got down, followed the voice, and, stumbling up a step or two, +entered a narrow door, which was with difficulty held open behind him, +and which swung to with a loud noise the minute he crossed the +threshold. This or the dreariness of the place in which he found himself +disturbed him greatly. Bare floors, stained walls, meagre doorways, and +a common pine staircase, lighted only by the miserable candle which the +old woman had relit—were these the appointments of the palatial home he +had been led to expect? These the surroundings, this the abode of him +who had exacted such perfection on his part, and to satisfy whose +standard he had devoted years of hourly, daily effort, in every +department of art and science? A sickening revolt seized him, aggravated +by the smiles of the old woman, who dipped and courtesied before him in +senile delight. She may have divined his feelings, for, drawing him +inside, she relieved him of his overcoat, crying all the while, with an +extravagant welcome more repulsive than all the rest:</p> + +<p>"O the fine laddie! Wad your puir mither could see you the noo! Bonnie +and clever! No your faither's bairn ava! All mither, laddie, all +mither!"</p> + +<p>The room was no better than the hall.</p> + +<p>"Where is my father?" he asked, authoritatively, striving to keep down +his strong repugnance.</p> + +<p>"Dinna ye hear him? He's crying on ye. Puir man, he's wearying to see +ye."</p> + +<p>Hear him? He could scarcely hear her. The driving rain, the swish of +some great boughs against the house, the rattling of casements and +doors, and the shrieking of wind in the chimney made all other sounds +wellnigh inaudible. Yet as he listened he seemed to catch the accents of +a far-off voice calling, now wistfully, now imperatively, "Thomas! +Thomas!" And, thrilled with an emotion almost superstitious in its +intensity, he moved hastily toward the staircase.</p> + +<p>But the old woman was there before him. "Na! Na!" she cried. "Come in by +and eat something first."</p> + +<p>But Thomas shook his head. It seemed to him at that moment as if he +never could eat or sleep again, the disillusion was so bitter, his +disappointment so keen.</p> + +<p>"You will na? Then haste ye—haste ye. But it's a peety you wadna ha'e +eaten something. Ye'll need it, laddie; ye'll need it."</p> + +<p>"Thomas! Thomas!" wailed the voice.</p> + +<p>He tore himself away. He forced himself to go upstairs, following the +cry, which at every moment grew louder. At the top he cast a final +glance below. The old woman stood at the stair-foot, shading the candle +from the draught with a hand that shook with something more than age. +She was gazing after him in vague affright, and with the shadow of this +fear darkening her weazen face, formed a picture from which he was glad +to escape.</p> + +<p>Plunging on, he found himself before a window whose small panes dripped +and groaned under a rain that was fast becoming a torrent. Chilled by +the sight, he turned toward the door faintly outlined beside it, and in +the semi-darkness seized an old-fashioned latch rattling in the wind +that permeated every passageway, and softly raised it.</p> + +<p>Instantly the door fell back, and two eyes blazing with fever and that +fire of the soul of which fever is the mere physical symbol greeted him +from the midst of a huge bed drawn up against the opposite wall. Then +two arms rose, and the moaning cry of "Thomas! Thomas!" changed to a +shout, and he knew himself to be in the presence of his father.</p> + +<p>Falling on his knees in speechless emotion, he grasped the wasted hands +held out to him. Such a face, rugged though it was and far from +fulfilling the promise held out to him in his dreams, could not but move +any man. As he gazed into it and pressed the hands in which the life +blood only seemed to linger for this last, this only embrace, all his +filial instincts were aroused and he forgot the common surroundings, the +depressing rain, his own fatigue and bitter disappointment, in his +lifelong craving for love and family recognition.</p> + +<p>But the old man on whose breast he fell showed other emotions than those +by which he was himself actuated. It was not an embrace he craved, but +an opportunity to satisfy an almost frenzied curiosity as to the +appearance and attributes of the son who had grown to manhood under +other eyes. Pushing him gently back, he bade him stand in the light of +the lamp burning on a small pine table, and surveyed him, as it were, +from the verge of his own fast failing life, with moans of mingled pain +and weariness, amid which Thomas thought he heard the accents of a +supreme satisfaction.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile in Thomas himself, as he stood there, the sense of complete +desolation filled his breast almost to bursting. To have come home for +this! To find a father only to be weighed in the scales of that father's +judgment! To be admired, instead of loved!</p> + +<p>As he realized his position and listened to the shrieking of the wind +and rain, he felt that the wail of the elements but echoed the cry of +his own affections, thus strangled in their birth. Indeed the sensations +of that moment made so deep an impression upon him that he was never +afterward able to hear a furious gust of wind or rain without the +picture rising up before him of this great hollow room, with the +trembling figure of his father struggling in the grasp of death and +holding it at bay, while he gauged with worldly wisdom the physical, +mental, and moral advantages of the son so long banished and so lately +restored to his arms.</p> + +<p>A rush of impetuous words followed by the collapse of his father's form +upon the pillow showed that the examination was over. Rushing forward, +he grasped again that father's hands, but soon shrank back, stunned by +what he heard and the prospect it opened before him. A few of his +father's words will interpret the rest. They came in a flood, and among +others Thomas caught these:</p> + +<p>"The grace of God be thanked! Our efforts have not failed. Handsome, +strong, noble in look and character, we could ask nothing more, hope for +nothing more. My revenge will succeed! John Poindexter will find that he +has a heart, and that that heart can be wrung. I do not need to live to +see it. For me it exists now; it exists here!" And he struck his breast +with hands that seemed to have reserved their last strength for this +supreme gesture.</p> + +<p>John Poindexter! Who was he? It was a new name to Thomas. Venturing to +say so, he reeled under the look he received from his father's eyes.</p> + +<p>"You do not know who John Poindexter is, and what he has done to me and +mine? They have kept their promise well, too well, but God will accord +me strength to tell you what has been left unsaid by them. He would not +bring me up to this hour to let me perish before you have heard the +story destined to make you the avenger of innocence upon that enemy of +your race. Listen, Thomas. With the hand of death encircling my heart, I +speak, and if the story find you cold—But it will not. Your name is +Cadwalader, and it will not."</p> + +<p>Constrained by passions such as he had never imagined even in dreams, +Thomas fell upon his knees. He could not listen otherwise. His father, +gasping for breath, fixed him with his hollow eyes, in which the last +flickering flames of life flared up in fitful brightness.</p> + +<p>"Thomas"—the pause was brief—"you are not my only child."</p> + +<p>"I know it," fell from Thomas's white lips. "I have a brother; his name +is Felix."</p> + +<p>The father shook his head with a look suggestive of impatience.</p> + +<p>"Not him! Not him!" he cried. "A sister! a sister, who died before you +were born—beautiful, good, with a voice like an angel's and a +heart—she should be standing by my side to-day, and she would have been +if—if he—but none of that. I have no breath to waste. Facts, facts, +just facts! Afterward may come emotions, hatred, denunciation, not now. +This is my story, Thomas.</p> + +<p>"John Poindexter and I were friends. From boyhood we shared each other's +bed, food, and pleasures, and when he came to seek his fortune in +America I accompanied him. He was an able man, but cold. I was of an +affectionate nature, but without any business capacity. As proof of +this, in fifteen years he was rich, esteemed, the master of a fine +house, and the owner of half a dozen horses; while I was the same nobody +I had been at first, or would have been had not Providence given me two +beautiful children and blessed, or rather cursed, me with the friendship +of this prosperous man. When Felix was fourteen and Evelyn three years +older, their mother died. Soon after, the little money I had vanished in +an unfortunate enterprise, and life began to promise ill, both for +myself and for my growing children. John Poindexter, who was honest +enough then, or let me hope so, and who had no children of his own, +though he had been long married, offered to take one of mine to educate. +But I did not consent to this till the war of the rebellion broke out; +then I sent him both son and daughter, and went into the army. For four +years I fought for the flag, suffering all that a man can suffer and +live, and being at last released from Libby Prison, came home with a +heart full of gratitude and with every affection keyed up by a long +series of unspeakable experiences, to greet my son and clasp once more +within my wasted arms the idolized form of my deeply loved daughter. +What did I find? A funeral in the streets—hers—and Felix, your +brother, walking like a guard between her speechless corpse and the man +under whose protection I had placed her youth and innocence.</p> + +<p>"Betrayed!" shrieked the now frenzied parent, rising on his pillow. "Her +innocence! Her sweetness! And he, cold as the stone we laid upon her +grave, had seen her perish with the anguish and shame of it, without a +sign of grief or a word of contrition."</p> + +<p>"O God!" burst from lips the old man was watching with frenzied cunning.</p> + +<p>"Ay, God!" repeated the father, shaking his head as if in defiance +before he fell back on his pillow. "He allowed it and I—But this does +not tell the story. I must keep to facts as Felix did—Felix, who was +but fifteen years old and yet found himself the only confidant and +solace of this young girl betrayed by her protector. It was after her +burial——"</p> + +<p>"Cease!" cried a voice, smooth, fresh, and yet strangely commanding, +from over Thomas's shoulder. "Let me tell the rest. No man can tell the +rest as I can."</p> + +<p>"Felix!" ejaculated Amos Cadwalader below his breath.</p> + +<p>"Felix!" repeated Thomas, shaken to his very heart by this new presence. +But when he sought to rise, to turn, he felt the pressure of a hand on +his shoulder and heard that voice again, saying softly, but +peremptorily:</p> + +<p>"Wait! Wait till you hear what I have to say. Think not of me, think +only of her. It is she you are called upon to avenge; your sister, +Evelyn."</p> + +<p>Thomas yielded to him as he had to his father. He sank down beneath that +insistent hand, and his brother took up the tale.</p> + +<p>"Evelyn had a voice like a bird. In those days before father's return, +she used to fill old John Poindexter's house with melody. I, who, as a +boy, was studious, rather than artistic, thought she sang too much for a +girl whose father was rotting away in a Southern prison. But when about +to rebuke her, I remembered Edward Kissam, and was silent. For it was +his love which made her glad, and to him I wished every happiness, for +he was good, and honest, and kind to me. She was eighteen then, and +beautiful, or so I was bound to believe, since every man looked at her, +even old John Poindexter, though he never looked at any other woman, not +even his own wife. And she was good, too, and pure, I swear, for her +blue eyes never faltered in looking into mine until one day when—my +God! how well I remember it!—they not only faltered, but shrank before +me in such terror, that, boy though I was, I knew that something +terrible, something unprecedented had happened, and thinking my one +thought, I asked if she had received bad news from father. Her answer +was a horrified moan, but it might have been a shriek. 'Our father! Pray +God we may never see him or hear from him again. If you love him, if you +love me, pray he may die in prison rather than return here to see me as +I am now.'</p> + +<p>"I thought she had gone mad, and perhaps she had for a moment; for at my +look of startled distress a change took place in her. She remembered my +youth, and laughing, or trying to laugh away her frenzy, uttered some +hurried words I failed to understand, and then, sinking at my knee, laid +her head against my side, crying that she was not well; that she had +experienced for a long time secret pains and great inward distress, and +that she sometimes feared she was not going to live long, for all her +songs and merry ways and seeming health and spirits.</p> + +<p>"'Not live, Evelyn?' It was an inconceivable thought to me, a boy. I +looked at her, and seeing how pale, how incomprehensibly pale she was, +my heart failed me, for nothing but mortal sickness could make such a +change in any one in a week, in a day. Yet how could death reach her, +loved as she was by Edward, by her father, and by me. Thinking to rouse +her, I spoke the former's name. But it was the last word I should have +uttered. Crouching as if I had given her a blow, she put her two hands +out, shrieking faintly: 'Not that! Never that! Do not speak his name. +Let me never hear of him or see him again. I am dead—do you not +understand me?—dead to all the world from this day—except to you!' she +suddenly sobbed, 'except to you!' And still I did not comprehend her. +But when I understood, as I soon did, that no mention was to be made of +her illness; that her door was to be shut and no one allowed to enter, +not even Mrs. Poindexter or her guardian—least of all, her guardian—I +began to catch the first intimation of that horror which was to end my +youth and fill my whole after life with but one thought—revenge. But I +said nothing, only watched and waited. Seeing that she was really ill, I +constituted myself her nurse, and sat by her night and day till her +symptoms became so alarming that the whole household was aroused and we +could no longer keep the doctor from her. Then I sat at her door, and +with one ear turned to catch her lightest moan, listened for the step +she most dreaded, but which, though it sometimes approached, never +passed the opening of the hall leading to her chamber. For one whole +week I sat there, watching her life go slowly out like a flame, with +nothing to feed it; then as the great shadow fell, and life seemed +breaking up within me, I dashed from the place, and confronting him +where I found him walking, pale and disturbed, in his own hall, told him +that my father was coming; that I had had a dream, and in that dream I +had seen my father with his face turned toward this place. Was he +prepared to meet him? Had he an answer ready when Amos Cadwalader should +ask him what had become of his child?</p> + +<p>"I had meant to shock the truth from this man, and I did so. As I +mentioned my father's name, Poindexter blanched, and my fears became +certainty. Dropping my youthful manner, for I was a boy no longer, I +flung his crime in his face, and begged him to deny it if he could. He +could not, but he did what neither he nor any other man could do in my +presence now and live—he smiled. Then when he saw me crouching for a +spring—for, young as I was, I knew but one impulse, and that was to fly +at his throat—he put out his powerful hand, and pinning me to the +ground, uttered a few short sentences in my ear.</p> + +<p>"They were terrible ones. They made me see that nothing I might then do +could obliterate the fact that she was lost if the world knew what I +knew, or even so much as suspected it; that any betrayal on my part or +act of contrition on his would only pile the earth on her innocent +breast and sink her deeper and deeper into the grave she was then +digging for herself; that all dreams were falsities; that Southern +prisons seldom gave up their victims alive; and that if my father should +escape the jaws of Libby and return, it was for me to be glad if he +found a quiet grave instead of a dishonored daughter. Further, that if I +crossed him, who was power itself, by any boyish exhibition of hate, I +would find that any odium I might invoke would fall on her and not on +him, making me an abhorrence, not only to the world at large, but to the +very father in whose interest I might pretend to act.</p> + +<p>"I was young and without worldly experience. I yielded to these +arguments, but I cursed him where he stood. With his hand pressing +heavily upon me, I cursed him to his face; then I went back to my +sister.</p> + +<p>"Had she, by some supernatural power, listened to our talk, or had she +really been visited by some dream, that she looked so changed? There was +a feverish light in her eye, and something like the shadow of a smile on +her lips. Mrs. Poindexter was with her; Mrs. Poindexter, whose face was +a mask we never tried to penetrate. But when she had left us alone +again, then Evelyn spoke, and I saw what her dream had been.</p> + +<p>"'Felix,' she cried as I approached her trembling with my own emotions +and half afraid of hers, 'there is still one hope for me. It has come to +me while you have been away. Edward—he loves me—did—perhaps he would +forgive. If he would take me into his protection (I see you know it all, +Felix) then I might grow happy again—well—strong—good. Do you +think—oh, you are a child, what do you know?—but—but before I turn my +face forever to the wall try if he will see me—try, try—with your +boy's wit—your clever schemes, to get him here unknown to—to—the one +I fear, I hate—and then, then, if he bids me live, I will live, and if +he bids me die, I will die; and all will be ended.'</p> + +<p>"I was an ignorant boy. I knew men no more than I knew women, and +yielding to her importunities, I promised to see Edward and plan for an +interview without her guardian's knowledge. I was, as Evelyn had said, +keen in those days and full of resources, and I easily managed it. +Edward, who had watched from the garden as I had from the door, was +easily persuaded to climb her lattice in search of what he had every +reason to believe would be his last earthly interview with his darling. +As his eager form bounded into the room I tottered forth, carrying with +me a vision of her face as she rose to meet—what? I dared not think or +attempt to foresee. Falling on my knees I waited the issue. Alas! It was +a speedy one. A stifled moan from her, the sound of a hoarse farewell +from him, told me that his love had failed her, and that her doom was +sealed. Creeping back to her side as quickly as my failing courage +admitted, I found her face turned to the wall, from which it never again +looked back; while presently, before the hour was passed, shouts ringing +through the town proclaimed that young Kissam had shot himself. She +heard, and died that night. In her last hour she had fancies. She +thought she saw her father, and her prayers for mercy were +heart-rending. Then she thought she saw him, that demon, her +executioner, and cringed and moaned against the wall.</p> + +<p>"But enough of this. Two days after, I walked between him and her silent +figure outstretched for burial. I had promised that no eye but mine +should look upon her, no other hand touch her, and I kept my word, even +when the impossible happened and her father rose up in the street before +us. Quietly, and in honor, she was carried to her grave, and then—then, +in the solitude of the retreat I had found for him, I told our father +all, and why I had denied him the only comfort which seemed left to +him—a last look at his darling daughter's face."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IIa" id="CHAPTER_IIa"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>THE OATH.</h3> + + +<p>A sigh from the panting breast of Amos Cadwalader followed these words. +Plainer than speech it told of a grief still fresh and an agony still +unappeased, though thirty years had passed away since the unhappy hour +of which Felix spoke.</p> + +<p>Felix, echoing it, went quickly on:</p> + +<p>"It was dusk when I told my story, and from dark to dawn we sat with +eyes fixed on each other's face, without sleep and without rest. Then we +sought John Poindexter.</p> + +<p>"Had he shunned us we might have had mercy, but he met us openly, +quietly, and with all the indifference of one who cannot measure +feeling, because he is incapable of experiencing it himself. His first +sentence evinced this. 'Spare yourselves, spare me all useless +recriminations. The girl is dead; I cannot call her back again. Enjoy +your life, your eating and your drinking, your getting and your +spending; it is but for a few more years at best. Why harp on old +'griefs?' His last word was a triumph. 'When a man cares for nothing or +nobody, it is useless to curse him.'</p> + +<p>"Ah, that was it! That was the secret of his power. He cared for nothing +and for no one, not even for himself. We felt the blow, and bent under +it. But before leaving him and the town, we swore, your father and I, +that we would yet make that cold heart feel; that some day, in some way, +we would cause that impassive nature to suffer as he had made us suffer, +however happy he might seem or however closely his prosperity might +cling to him. That was thirty years ago, and that oath has not yet been +fulfilled."</p> + +<p>Felix paused. Thomas lifted his head, but the old man would not let him +speak. "There are men who forget in a month, others who forget in a +year. I have never forgotten, nor has Felix here. When you were born (I +had married again, in the hope of renewed joy) I felt, I know not why, +that Evelyn's avenger was come. And when, a year or so after this event, +we heard that God had forgotten John Poindexter's sins, or, perhaps, +remembered them, and that a child was given him also, after eighteen +years of married life, I looked upon your bonny face and saw—or thought +I saw—a possible means of bringing about the vengeance to which Felix +and I had dedicated our lives.</p> + +<p>"You grew; your ardent nature, generous temper, and facile mind promised +an abundant manhood, and when your mother died, leaving me for a second +time a widower, I no longer hesitated to devote you to the purpose for +which you seemed born. Thomas, do you remember the beginning of that +journey which finally led you far from me? How I bore you on my shoulder +along a dusty road, till arrived within sight of his home, I raised you +from among the tombs and, showing you those distant gables looming black +against the twilight's gold, dedicated you to the destruction of +whatever happiness might hereafter develop under his infant's smile? You +do? I did not think you could forget; and now that the time has come for +the promise of that hour to be fulfilled, I call on you again, Thomas. +Avenge our griefs, avenge your sister. <i>Poindexter's girl has grown to +womanhood.</i>"</p> + +<p>At the suggestion conveyed in these words Thomas recoiled in horror. But +the old man failed to read his emotion rightly. Clutching his arm, he +proceeded passionately:</p> + +<p>"Woo her! Win her! They do not know you. You will be Thomas Adams to +them, not Thomas Cadwalader. Gather this budding flower into your bosom, +and then—Oh, he must love his child! Through her we have our hand on +his heart. Make her suffer—she's but a country girl, and you have lived +in Paris—make her suffer, and if, in doing so, you cause him to blench, +then believe I am looking upon you from the grave I go to, and be happy; +for you will not have lived, nor will I have died, in vain."</p> + +<p>He paused to catch his failing breath, but his indomitable will +triumphed over death and held Thomas under a spell that confounded his +instincts and made him the puppet of feelings which had accumulated +their force to fill him, in one hour, with a hate which it had taken his +father and brother a quarter of a century to bring to the point of +active vengeance.</p> + +<p>"I shall die; I am dying now," the old man panted on. "I shall never +live to see your triumph; I shall never behold John Poindexter's eye +glaze with those sufferings which rend the entrails and make a man +question if there is a God in heaven. But I shall know it where I am. No +mounded earth can keep my spirit down when John Poindexter feels his +doom. I shall be conscious of his anguish and shall rejoice; and when in +the depths of darkness to which I go he comes faltering along my way——</p> + +<p>"Boy, boy, you have been reared for this. God made you handsome; man has +made you strong; you have made yourself intelligent and accomplished. +You have only to show yourself to this country girl to become the master +of her will and affection, and these once yours, remember <i>me</i>! +<i>Remember Evelyn!</i>"</p> + +<p>Never had Thomas been witness to such passion. It swept him along in a +burning stream against which he sought to contend and could not. Raising +his hand in what he meant as a response to that appeal, he endeavored to +speak, but failed. His father misinterpreted his silence, and bitterly +cried:</p> + +<p>"You are dumb! You do not like the task; are virtuous, perhaps—you who +have lived for years alone and unhampered in Paris. Or you have +instincts of honor, habits of generosity that blind you to wrongs that +for a longer space than your lifetime have cried aloud to heaven for +vengeance. Thomas, Thomas, if you should fail me now——"</p> + +<p>"He will not fail you," broke in the voice of Felix, calm, suave, and +insinuating. "I have watched him; I know him; he will not fail you."</p> + +<p>Thomas shuddered; he had forgotten Felix, but as he heard these words he +could no longer delay looking at the man who had offered to stand his +surety for the performance of the unholy deed his father exacted from +him. Turning, he saw a man who in any place and under any roof would +attract attention, awake admiration and—yes, fear. He was not a large +man, not so large as himself, but the will that expressed itself in +frenzy on his father's lips showed quiet and inflexible in the gray eye +resting upon his own with a power he could never hope to evade. As he +looked and comprehended, a steel band seemed to compress his heart; yet +he was conscious at the same time that the personality before which he +thus succumbed was as elegant as his own and as perfectly trained in all +the ways of men and of life. Even the air of poverty which had shocked +him in his father's person and surroundings was not visible here. Felix +was both well and handsomely clad, and could hold his own as the elder +brother in every respect most insisted upon by the Parisian gentleman. +The long and, to Thomas, mysterious curtain of dark-green serge which +stretched behind him from floor to ceiling threw out his pale features +with a remarkable distinctness, and for an instant Thomas wondered if it +had been hung there for the purpose of producing this effect. But the +demand in his brother's face drew his attention, and, bowing his head, +he stammered:</p> + +<p>"I am at your command, Felix. I am at your command, father. I cannot say +more. Only remember that I never saw Evelyn, that she died before I was +born, and that I——"</p> + +<p>But here Felix's voice broke in, kind, but measured:</p> + +<p>"Perhaps there is some obstacle we have not reckoned upon. You may +already love some woman and desire to marry her. If so, it need be no +impediment——"</p> + +<p>But here Thomas's indignation found voice.</p> + +<p>"No," said he; "I am heart-whole save for a few lingering fancies which +are fast becoming vanishing dreams."</p> + +<p>He seemed to have lived years since entering this room.</p> + +<p>"Your heart will not be disturbed now," commented Felix. "I have seen +the girl. I went there on purpose a year ago. She's as pale as a +snow-drop and as listless. You will not be obliged to recall to mind the +gay smiles of Parisian ladies to be proof against her charms."</p> + +<p>Thomas shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"She must be made to know the full intoxication of hope," Felix +proceeded in his clear and cutting voice. "To realize despair she must +first experience every delight that comes with satisfied love. Have you +the skill as well as heart to play to the end a rôle which will take +patience as well as dissimulation, courage as well as subtlety, and that +union of will and implacability which finds its food in tears and is +strengthened, rather than lessened, by the suffering of its victim?"</p> + +<p>"I have the skill," murmured Thomas, "but——"</p> + +<p>"You lack the incentive," finished Felix. "Well, well, we must have +patience with your doubts and hesitations. Our hate has been fostered by +memories of her whom, as you say, you have never seen. Look, then, +Thomas. Look at your sister as she was, as she is for us. Look at her, +and think of her as despoiled, killed, forgotten by Poindexter. Have you +ever gazed upon a more moving countenance, or one in which beauty +contends with a keener prophecy of woe?"</p> + +<p>Not knowing what to expect, anticipating almost to be met by her shade, +Thomas followed the direction of his brother's lifted hand, and beheld, +where but a minute before that dismal curtain had hung, a blaze of +light, in the midst of which he saw a charming, but tragic, figure, such +as no gallery in all Europe had ever shown him, possibly because no +other limned face or form had ever appealed to his heart. It did not +seem a picture, it seemed her very self, a gentle, loving self that +breathed forth all the tenderness he had vainly sought for in his living +relatives; and falling at her feet, he cried out:</p> + +<p>"Do not look at me so reproachfully, sweet Evelyn. I was born to avenge +you, and I will. John Poindexter shall never go down in peace to his +tomb."</p> + +<p>A sigh of utter contentment came from the direction of the bed.</p> + +<p>"Swear it!" cried his father, holding out his arms before him in the +form of a cross.</p> + +<p>"Yes, swear it!" repeated Felix, laying his own hand on those crossed +arms.</p> + +<p>Thomas drew near, and laid his hand beside that of Felix.</p> + +<p>"I swear," he began, raising his voice above the tempest, which poured +gust after gust against the house. "I swear to win the affections of Eva +Poindexter, and then, when her heart is all mine, to cast her back in +anguish and contumely on the breast of John Poindexter."</p> + +<p>"Good!" came from what seemed to him an immeasurable distance. Then the +darkness, which since the taking of this oath had settled over his +senses, fell, and he sank insensible at the feet of his dying father.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Amos Cadwalader died that night; but not without one awful scene more. +About midnight he roused from the sleep which had followed the exciting +incidents I have just related, and glancing from Thomas to Felix, +sitting on either side of the bed, fixed his eyes with a strange gleam +upon the door.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he ejaculated, "a visitor! John Poindexter! He comes to ask my +forgiveness before I set out on my dismal journey."</p> + +<p>The sarcasm of his tone, the courtesy of his manner, caused the hair to +stir on the heads of his two sons. That he saw his enemy as plainly as +he saw them, neither could doubt.</p> + +<p>"Does he dread my meeting with Evelyn? Does he wish to placate me before +I am joined to that pathetic shade? He shall not be disappointed. I +forgive you, John Poindexter! I forgive you my daughter's shame, my +blighted life. I am dying; but I leave one behind who will not forgive +you. I have a son, an avenger of the dead, who yet lives to—to——"</p> + +<p>He fell back. With these words, which seemed to seal Thomas to his task, +Amos Cadwalader died.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IIIa" id="CHAPTER_IIIa"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>EVA.</h3> + + +<p>Felix had not inherited his father's incapacity for making money. In the +twenty years that had passed since Thomas had been abroad he had built +up a fortune, which he could not induce his father to share, but which +that father was perfectly willing to see devoted to their mutual +revenge. There was meaning, therefore, in the injunction Felix gave his +brother on his departure for Montgomery:</p> + +<p>"I have money; spend it; spend what you will, and when your task is +completed, there will still be some left for your amusement."</p> + +<p>Thomas bowed. "The laborer is worthy of his hire," was his thought. "And +you?" he asked, looking about the scanty walls, which seemed to have +lost their very excuse for being now that his father had died. "Will you +remain here?"</p> + +<p>Felix's answer was abrupt, but positive. "No; I go to New York +to-morrow. I have rented a house there, which you may one day wish to +share. The name under which I have leased it is Adams, Felix Adams. As +such you will address me. Cadwalader is a name that must not leave your +lips in Montgomery, nor must you forget that my person is known there, +otherwise we might not have been dependent on you for the success of our +revenge." And he smiled, fully conscious of being the handsomer man of +the two. "And now how about those introductions we enjoined you to bring +from Paris?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The history of the next few weeks can best be understood by reading +certain letters sent by Thomas to Felix, by examining a diary drawn up +by the same writer for his own relief and satisfaction. The letters will +be found on the left, and the diary on the right, of the double columns +hereby submitted. The former are a summary of facts; the latter is a +summary of feelings. Both are necessary to a right comprehension of the +situation.</p> + + + +<table> + +<tr> +<td>FIRST LETTER.</td> +<td>FIRST ENTRY.</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Felix</span>:</p> + +<p>I am here; I have seen her. She is, as you have said, a pale blonde. +To-morrow I present my credentials to John Poindexter. From what I have +already experienced I anticipate a favorable reception.</p> + +<p>Yours aff., <span class="smcap">Thomas</span>.</p> +</td> + +<td> +<p>I could not write Felix the true story of this day. Why? And why must I +write it here? To turn my mind from dwelling on it? Perhaps. I do not +seem to understand my own feelings, or why I begin to dread my task, +while ardently pressing forward to accomplish it.</p> + +<p>I have seen her. This much I wrote to Felix, but I did not say where our +meeting took place or how. How could I? Would he understand how one of +Poindexter's blood could be employed in a gracious act, or how I, filled +with a purpose that has made my heart dark as hell ever since I embraced +it, could find that heart swell and that purpose sink at my first +glimpse of the face whose beauty I have sworn to devote to agony and +tears? Surely, surely Felix would have been stronger, and yet——</p> + +<p>I went from the cars to the cemetery. Before entering the town or seeing +to my own comfort, I sought Evelyn's grave, there to renew my oath in +the place where, nineteen years ago, my father held me up, a +four-year-old child, in threat, toward John Poindexter's home. I had +succeeded in finding the old and neglected stone which marked her +resting-place, and was bending in the sunset light to examine it, when +the rustle of a woman's skirts attracted my attention, and I perceived +advancing toward me a young girl in a nimbus of rosy light which seemed +to lift her from the ground and give to her delicate figure and +strangely illumined head an ethereal aspect which her pure features and +tender bearing did not belie. In her arms she carried a huge cluster of +snow-white lilies, and when I observed that her eyes were directed not +on me, but on the grave beside which I stood, I moved aside into the +shadow of some bushes and watched her while she strewed these +flowers—emblems of innocence—over the grave I had just left.</p> + +<p>What did it mean, and who was this young girl who honored with such +gracious memorials the grave of my long-buried sister? As she rose from +her task I could no longer restrain either my emotion or the curiosity +with which her act had inspired me. Advancing, I greeted her with all +the respect her appearance called for, and noting that her face was even +more beautiful when lifted in speech than when bent in gravity over her +flowers, I asked her, in the indifferent tone of a stranger, who was +buried in this spot, and why she, a mere girl, dropped flowers upon a +grave the mosses of whose stone proved it to have been dug long before +she was born.</p> + +<p>Her answer caused me a shock, full as my life has lately been of +startling experiences. "I strew flowers here," said she, "because the +girl who lies buried under this stone had the same birthday as myself. I +never saw her, it's true, but she died in my father's house when she was +no older than I am to-day, and since I have become a woman and realize +what loss there is in dying young, I have made it a custom to share with +her my birthday flowers. She was a lily, they say, in appearance and +character, and so I bring her lilies."</p> + +<p>It was Eva Poindexter, the girl I—And she was strewing flowers on +Evelyn's grave.</p> +</td> +</tr> + + +<tr> +<td>LETTER II.</td> +<td>ENTRY II.</td></tr> + +<tr> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Dear Felix</span>:</p> + +<p>I have touched the hand of John Poindexter. In order to win a place in +the good graces of the daughter I must please the father, or at least +attract his favorable notice. I have reason to think I have done this.</p> + +<p>Very truly, <span class="smcap">Thomas</span>.</p> +</td> + + +<td><p>I no longer feel myself a true man. John Poindexter is cold in +appearance, hard in manner, and inflexible in opinion, but he does not +inspire the abhorrence I anticipated nor awaken in me the one thought +due to the memory of my sister. Is it because he is Eva's father? Has +the loveliness of the daughter cast a halo about the parent? If so, +Felix has a right to execrate me and my father to——</p> +</td> +</tr> + + +<tr> +<td>LETTER III.</td> +<td>ENTRY III.</td></tr> + +<tr> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Dear Felix</span>:</p> + +<p>The introductions furnished me have made me received everywhere. There +is considerable wealth here and many fine houses. Consequently I find +myself in a congenial society, of which she is the star. Did I say that +he was, as of old, the chief man of the town?</p> + +<p>Yours truly, <span class="smcap">Thomas</span>.</p> +</td> + +<td><p>She is beautiful. She has the daintiness of the lily and the flush of +the rose. But it is not her beauty that moves me; it is the strange +sweetness of her nature, which, nevertheless, has no weakness in it; on +the contrary, it possesses peculiar strength, which becomes instantly +apparent at the call of duty. Could Felix have imagined such a +Poindexter? I cannot contemplate such loveliness and associate it with +the execrable sin which calls down vengeance upon this house. I cannot +even dwell upon my past life. All that is dark, threatening, secret, and +revengeful slips from me under her eye, and I dream of what is pure, +true, satisfying, and ennobling. And this by the influence of her smile, +rather than of her words. Have I been given an angel to degrade? Or am I +so blind as to behold a saint where others (Felix, let us say) would see +only a pretty woman with unexpected attractions?</p> +</td> +</tr> + + +<tr> +<td>LETTER IV.</td> +<td>ENTRY IV.</td> +</tr> + +<tr><td><p><span class="smcap">Dear Felix</span>:</p> + +<p>Rides, dances, games, nonsense generally. My interest in this young girl +is beginning to be publicly recognized. She alone seems ignorant of it. +Sometimes I wonder if our scheme will fail through her impassibility and +more than conventional innocence. I am sometimes afraid she will never +love me. Yet I have exerted myself to please her. Indeed, I could not +have exerted myself more. To-day I went twenty-five miles on horseback +to procure her a trifle she fancied.</p> + +<p>Yours aff., <span class="smcap">Thomas</span>.</p></td> + + + + +<td><p>All will not go as easily as Felix imagines. Eva Poindexter may be a +country girl, but she has her standards, too, and mere grace and +attainment are not sufficient to win her. Have I the other qualities she +demands? That remains to be seen. I have one she never dreams of. Will +its shadow so overwhelm the rest that her naturally pure spirit will +shrink from me just at the moment when I think her mine? I cannot tell, +and the doubt creates a hell within me. Something deeper, stronger, more +imperious than my revenge makes the winning of this girl's heart a +necessity to me. I have forgotten my purpose in this desire. I have +forgotten everything except that she is the one woman of my life, and +that I can never rest till her heart is wholly mine. Good God! Have I +become a slave where I hoped to be master? Have I, Thomas Cadwalader, +given my soul into the keeping of this innocent girl? I do not even stop +to inquire. To win her—that is all for which I now live.</p></td></tr> + + + +<tr><td>LETTER V.</td><td>ENTRY V.</td></tr> + +<tr><td><p><span class="smcap">Dear Felix</span>:</p> + +<p>She may not care for me, but she is interested in no one else. Of this I +am assured by John Poindexter, who seems very desirous of aiding me in +my attempt to win his daughter's heart. Hard won, close bound. If she +ever comes to love me it will be with the force of a very strong nature. +The pale blonde has a heart.</p> + +<p>Yours aff., <span class="smcap">Thomas</span>.</p></td> + + + +<td><p>If it were passion only that I feel, I might have some hope of +restraining it. But it is something more, something deeper, something +which constrains me to look with her eyes, hear with her ears, and throb +with her heart. My soul, rather than my senses, is enthralled. I want to +win her, not for my own satisfaction, but to make her happy. I want to +prove to her that goodness exists in this world—I, who came here to +corrode and destroy; I, who am still pledged to do so. Ah, Felix, Felix, +you should have chosen an older man for your purpose, or remembered that +he who could be influenced as I was by family affections possesses a +heart too soft for such infamy.</p></td></tr> + + +<tr><td></td><td>ENTRY VI.</td></tr> + +<tr><td></td><td><p>The name of Evelyn is never mentioned in this house. Sometimes I think +that he has forgotten her, and find in this thought the one remaining +spur to my revenge. Forgotten her! Strange, that his child, born long +after his victim's death, should remember this poor girl, and he forget! +Yet on the daughter the blow is planned to fall—if it does fall. Should +I not pray that it never may? That she should loathe instead of love me? +Distrust, instead of confide in my honor and affection? But who can pray +against himself? Eva Poindexter must love me, even if I am driven to +self-destruction by my own remorse, after she has confided her heart to +my keeping.</p></td></tr> + + + +<tr><td>LETTER VI.</td><td>ENTRY VII.</td></tr> + +<tr><td><p><span class="smcap">Dear Felix</span>:</p> + +<p>Will you send me a few exquisite articles from Tiffany's? I see that her +father expects me to give her presents. I think she will accept them. If +she does, we may both rest easy as to the state of her affections.</p> + +<p>Very truly, <span class="smcap">Thomas</span>.</p></td> + + +<td><p>I cannot bring myself to pass a whole day away from her side. If Felix +were here and could witness my assiduity, he would commend me in his +cold and inflexible heart for the singleness with which I pursue my +purpose. He would say to me, in the language of one of his letters: "You +are not disappointing us." Us! As if our father still hovered near, +sharing our purposes and hope. Alas! if he does, he must penetrate more +deeply than Felix into the heart of this matter; must see that with +every day's advantage—and I now think each day brings its advantage—I +shrink further and further from the end they planned for me; the end +which can alone justify my advance in her affections. I am a traitor to +my oath, for I now know I shall never disappoint Eva's faith in me. I +could not. Rather would I meet my father's accusing eyes on the verge of +that strange world to which he has gone, or Felix's recriminations here, +or my own contempt for the weakness which has made it possible for me to +draw back from the brink of this wicked revenge to which I have devoted +myself.</p></td></tr> + + + +<tr><td>LETTER VII.</td><td>ENTRY VIII.</td></tr> + +<tr><td><p><span class="smcap">Dear Felix</span>:</p> + +<p>This morning I passed under the window you have described to me as +Evelyn's. I did it with a purpose. I wanted to test my own emotions and +to see how much feeling it would arouse in me. Enough.</p> + +<p>Eva accepted the brooch. It was the simplest thing you sent.</p> + +<p>Aff., <span class="smcap">Thomas</span>.</p></td> + + + + +<td><p>I hate John Poindexter, yes, I hate him, but I can never hate his +daughter. Only Felix could so confound the father with the child as to +visit his anger upon this gentle embodiment of all that is gracious, all +that is trustworthy, all that is fascinating in woman. But am I called +upon to hate her? Am I not in a way required to love her? I will ask +Felix. No, I cannot ask Felix. He would never comprehend her charm or +its influence over me. He would have doubts and come at once to +Montgomery. Good God! Am I proving such a traitor to my own flesh and +blood that I cannot bear to think of Felix contemplating even in secret +the unsuspicious form of his enemy's daughter?</p></td></tr> + + + +<tr><td>LETTER VIII.</td><td>ENTRY IX.</td></tr> + +<tr><td><p><span class="smcap">Dear Felix</span>:</p> + +<p>A picnic on the mountains. It fell to me to escort Miss Poindexter down +a dangerous slope. Though no words of affection passed between us (she +is not yet ready for them), I feel that I have made a decided advance in +her good graces.</p> + +<p>Yours, <span class="smcap">Thomas</span>.</p></td> + + + + +<td><p>I have touched her hand! I have felt her sweet form thrilling against +mine as we descended the mountain ledges together! No man was near, no +eye—there were moments in which we were as much alone in the wide +paradise of these wooded slopes as if the world held no other breathing +soul. Yet I no more dared to press her hand, or pour forth the mad +worship of my heart into her innocent ears, than if the eyes of all +Paris had been upon us. How I love her! How far off and faint seem the +years of that dead crime my brother would invoke for the punishment of +this sweet soul! Yes, and how remote that awful hour in which I knelt +beneath the hand of my dying father and swore—Ah, that oath! That oath!</p></td></tr> + + +<tr><td></td><td>ENTRY X.</td></tr> + +<tr><td></td><td><p>The thing I dreaded, the thing I might have foreseen, has occurred. +Felix has made his appearance in Montgomery. I received a communication +to that effect from him to-day; a communication in which he commands me +to meet him to-night, at Evelyn's grave, at the witching hour of twelve. +I do not enjoy the summons. I have a dread of Felix, and begin to think +he calculates upon stage devices to control me. But the day has passed +for that. I will show him that I can be no more influenced in that place +and at that hour than I could be in this hotel room, with the sight of +her little glove—is there sin in such thefts?—lying on the table +before us. Evelyn! She is a sacred memory. But the dead must not +interfere with the living. Eva shall never be sacrificed to Evelyn's +manes, not if John Poindexter lives out his life to his last hour in +peace; not if Felix—well; I need to play the man; Felix is a formidable +antagonist to meet, alone, in a spot of such rancorous memories, at an +hour when spirits—if there be spirits—haunt the precincts of the tomb.</p></td></tr> + + + +<tr><td></td><td>ENTRY XI.</td></tr> + +<tr><td></td><td><p>I should not have known Felix had I met him in the street. How much of a +stranger he appeared, then, in the faint moonlight which poured upon +that shaded spot! His very voice seemed altered, and in his manner I +remarked a hesitation I had not supposed him capable of showing under +any circumstances. Nor were his words such as I expected. The questions +I dreaded most he did not ask. The recriminations I looked for he did +not utter. He only told me coldly that my courtship must be shortened; +that the end for which we were both prepared must be hastened, and gave +me two weeks in which to bring matters to a climax. Then he turned to +Evelyn's grave, and bending down, tried to read her name on the mossy +stone. He was so long in doing this that I leaned down beside him and +laid my hand on his shoulder. He was trembling, and his body was as cold +as the stone he threw himself against. Was it the memory of her whom +that stone covered which had aroused this emotion? If so, it was but +natural. To all appearance he has never in all his life loved any one as +he did this unhappy sister; and struck with a respect for the grief +which has outlived many a man's lifetime, I was shrinking back when he +caught my hand, and with a convulsive strain, contrasting strongly with +his tone, which was strangely measured, he cried, "Do not forget the +end! Do not forget John Poindexter! his sin, his indifference to my +father's grief; the accumulated sufferings of years which made Amos +Cadwalader a hermit amongst men. I have seen the girl; she has +changed—women do change at her age—and some men, I do not say you, but +some men might think her beautiful. But beauty, if she has it, must not +blind your eyes, which are fixed upon another goal. Overlook it; +overlook her—you have done so, have you not? Pale beauties cannot move +one who has sat at the feet of the most dazzling of Parisian women. Keep +your eyes on John Poindexter, the debt he owes us, and the suffering we +have promised him. That she is sweet, gentle, different from all we +thought her, only makes the chances of reaching his heart the greater. +The worthier she may be of affections not indigenous to that hard soul, +the surer will be our grip upon his nature and the heavier his +downfall."</p> + +<p>The old spell was upon me. I could neither answer nor assert myself. +Letting go my hand, he rose, and with his back to the village—I noticed +he had not turned his face to it since coming to this spot—he said: "I +shall return to New York to-morrow. In two weeks you will telegraph your +readiness to take up your abode with me. I have a home that will satisfy +you; and it will soon be all your own."</p> + +<p>Here he gripped his heart; and, dark as it was, I detected a strange +convulsion cross his features as he turned into the moonlight. But it +was gone before we could descend.</p> + +<p>"You may hear from me again," he remarked somewhat faintly as he grasped +my hand, and turned away in his own direction. I had not spoken a word +during the whole interview.</p></td></tr> + + + +<tr><td>LETTER IX.</td><td>ENTRY XII.</td></tr> + +<tr><td><p><span class="smcap">Dear Felix</span>:</p> + +<p>I do not hear from you. Are you well, or did your journey affect your +health? I have no especial advance to report. John Poindexter seems +greatly interested in my courtship. Sometimes he gives me very good +advice. How does that strike you, Felix?</p> + +<p>Aff., <span class="smcap">Thomas</span>.</p></td> + + + + +<td><p>I shall never understand Felix. He has not left the town, but is staying +here in hiding, watching me, no doubt, to see if the signs of weakening +he doubtless suspects in me have a significance deep enough to overthrow +his planned revenge. I know this, because I have seen him more than once +during the last week, when he thought himself completely invisible. I +have caught sight of him in Mr. Poindexter's grounds when Eva and I +stood talking together in the window. I even saw him once in church, in +a dark corner, to be sure, but where he could keep his eye upon us, +sitting together in Mr. Poindexter's pew. He seemed to me thin that day. +The suspense he is under is wearing upon him. Is it my duty to cut it +short by proclaiming my infidelity to my oath and my determination to +marry the girl who has made me forget it?</p></td></tr> + + + +<tr><td>LETTER X.</td><td>ENTRY XIII.</td></tr> + +<tr><td><p><span class="smcap">Dear Felix</span>:</p> + +<p>Miss Poindexter has told me unreservedly that she cares for me. Are you +satisfied with me now?</p> + +<p>In haste, <span class="smcap">Thomas</span>.</p></td> + + + + +<td><p>She loves me. Oh, ecstasy of life! Eva Poindexter loves me. I forced it +from her lips to-day. With my arms around her and her head on my +shoulder, I urged her to confession, and it came. Now let Felix do what +he will! What is old John Poindexter to me? Her father. What are Amos +Cadwalader's hatred and the mortal wrong that called so loudly for +revenge? Dead issues, long buried sorrows, which God may remember, but +which men are bound to forget. Life, life with her! That is the future +toward which I look; that is the only vengeance I will take, the only +vengeance Evelyn can demand if she is the angel we believe her. I will +write to Felix to-morrow.</p></td></tr> + + + +<tr><td></td><td>ENTRY XIV.</td></tr> + +<tr><td></td> +<td><p>I have not written Felix. I had not the courage.</p></td></tr> + + + +<tr><td></td><td>ENTRY XV.</td></tr> + +<tr><td></td> + +<td><p>I have had a dream. I thought I saw the meeting of my father with the +white shade of Evelyn in the unimaginable recesses of that world to +which both have gone. Strange horrors, stranger glories met as their +separate paths crossed, and when the two forms had greeted and parted, a +line of light followed the footsteps of the one and a trail of gloom +those of the other. As their ways divided, I heard my father cry:</p> + +<p>"There is no spot on your garments, Evelyn. Can it be that the wrongs of +earth are forgotten here? That mortals remember what the angels forget, +and that our revenge is late for one so blessed?"</p> + +<p>I did not hear the answer, for I woke; but the echo of those words has +rung in my ears all day. "Is our revenge late for one so blessed?"</p></td></tr> + +<tr><td></td><td>ENTRY XVI.</td></tr> + +<tr><td></td> + + +<td><p>I have summoned up courage. Felix has been here again, and the truth has +at last been spoken between us. I had been pressing Eva to name our +wedding day, and we were all standing—that is, John Poindexter, my dear +girl, and myself—in the glare of the drawing-room lights, when I heard +a groan, too faint for other ears to catch, followed by a light fall +from the window overlooking the garden. It was Felix. He had been +watching us, had seen my love, heard me talk of marriage, and must now +be in the grounds in open frenzy, or secret satisfaction, it was hard to +tell which. Determined to know, determined to speak, I excused myself on +some hurried plea, and searched the paths he knew as well as I. At last +I came upon him. He was standing near an old dial, where he had more +than once seen Eva and me together. He was very pale, deathly pale, it +seemed to me, in the faint starlight shining upon that open place; but +he greeted me as usual very quietly and with no surprise, almost, in +fact, as if he knew I would recognize his presence and follow him.</p> + +<p>"You are playing your rôle well," said he; "too well. What was that I +heard about your marrying?"</p> + +<p>The time had come. I was determined to meet it with a man's courage. But +I found it hard. Felix is no easy man to cross, even in small things, +and this thing is his life, nay, more—his past, present, and future +existence.</p> + +<p>I do not know who spoke first. There was some stammering, a few broken +words; then I heard myself saying distinctly, and with a certain hard +emphasis born of the restraint I put upon myself:</p> + +<p>"I love her! I want to marry her. You must allow this. Then——"</p> + +<p>I could not proceed. I felt the shock he had received almost as if it +had been communicated to me by contact. Something that was not of the +earth seemed to pass between us, and I remember raising my hand as if to +shield my face. And then, whether it was the blowing aside of some +branches which kept the moonlight from us, or because my eyesight was +made clearer by my emotion, I caught one glimpse of his face and became +conscious of a great suffering, which at first seemed the wrenching of +my own heart, but in another moment impressed itself upon me as that of +his, Felix's.</p> + +<p>I stood appalled.</p> + +<p>My weakness had uprooted the one hope of his life, or so I thought; and +that he expressed this by silence made my heart yearn toward him for the +first time since I recognized him as my brother. I tried to stammer some +excuse. I was glad when the darkness fell again, for the sight of his +bowed head and set features was insupportable to me. It seemed to make +it easier for me to talk; for me to dilate upon the purity, the goodness +which had robbed me of my heart in spite of myself. My heart! It seemed +a strange word to pass between us two in reference to a Poindexter, but +it was the only one capable of expressing the feeling I had for this +young girl. At last, driven to frenzy by his continued silence, which +had something strangely moving in it, I cried:</p> + +<p>"You have never loved a woman, Felix. You do not know what the passion +is when it seizes upon a man jaded with the hollow pleasures of an +irresponsible life. You cannot judge; therefore you cannot excuse. You +are made of iron——"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" It was the first word he had spoken since I had opened my heart +to him. "You do not know what you are saying, Thomas. Like all egotists, +you think yourself alone in experience and suffering. Will you think so +when I tell you that there was a time in my life when I did not sleep +for weeks; when the earth, the air, yes, and the heavens were full of +nothing but her name, her face, her voice? When to have held her in my +arms, to have breathed into her ear one word of love, to have felt her +cheek fall against mine in confidence, in passion, in hope, would have +been to me the heaven which would have driven the devils from my soul +forever? Thomas, will you believe I do not know the uttermost of all you +are experiencing, when I here declare to you that there has been an hour +in my life when, if I had felt she could have been brought to love me, I +would have sacrificed Evelyn, my own soul, our father's hope, John +Poindexter's punishment, and become the weak thing you are to-day, and +gloried in it, I, Felix Cadwalader, the man of iron, who has never been +known to falter? But, Thomas, I overcame that feeling. I crushed down +that love, and I call upon you to do the same. You may marry her, +but——"</p> + +<p>What stopped him? His own heart or my own impetuosity? Both, perhaps, +for at that moment I fell at his feet, and seizing his hand, kissed it +as I might a woman's. He seemed to grow cold and stiff under this +embrace, which showed both the delirium I was laboring under and the +relief I had gotten from his words. When he withdrew his hand, I feel +that my doom was about to be spoken, and I was not wrong. It came in +these words:</p> + +<p>"Thomas, I have yielded to your importunity and granted you the +satisfaction which under the same circumstances I would have denied +myself. But it has not made me less hard toward you; indeed, the steel +with which you say my heart is bound seems tightening about it, as if +the momentary weakness in which I have indulged called for revenge. +Thomas, go on your way; make the girl your wife—I had rather you would, +since she is—what she is—but after she has taken your name, after she +believes herself secure in her honorable position and your love, then +you are to remember our compact and your oath—back upon John +Poindexter's care she is to be thrown, shortly, curtly, without +explanation or excuse; and if it costs you your life, you are to stand +firm in this attitude, using but one weapon in the struggle which may +open between you and her father, and that is, your name of Cadwalader. +You will not need any other. Thomas, do you swear to this? Or must I +direct my own power against Eva Poindexter, and, by telling her your +motive in courting her, make her hate you forever?"</p> + +<p>"I will swear," I cried, overpowered by the alternative with which he +threatened me. "Give me the bliss of calling her mine, and I will follow +your wishes in all that concerns us thereafter."</p> + +<p>"You will?" There was a sinister tone in this ejaculation that gave a +shock to my momentary complacency. But we are so made that an +anticipated evil affects us less than an immediate one; and remembering +that weeks must yet elapse, during which he or John Poindexter or even +myself might die, I said nothing, and he went icily on:</p> + +<p>"I give you two months, alone and untrammelled. Then you are to bring +your bride to my house, there to hear my final decision. There is to be +no departure from this course. I shall expect you, Thomas; you and her. +You can say that you are going to make her acquainted with your +brother."</p> + +<p>"I will be there," I murmured, feeling a greater oppression than when I +took the oath at my father's death-bed. "I will be there."</p> + +<p>There was no answer. While I was repeating those four words, Felix +vanished.</p></td></tr> + +<tr><td>LETTER XI.</td><td>ENTRY XVII.</td></tr> + + + +<tr><td><p><span class="smcap">Dear Felix</span>:</p> + +<p>Have a fresh draft made. I need cigars, clothes, and—a wedding ring. +But no, let me stop short there. We will be married without one, unless +you force it upon us. Eva's color is blue.</p> + +<p>Very truly, <span class="smcap">Thomas</span>.</p></td> + + + + +<td><p>To-day I wrote again to Felix. He is at home, must be, for I have +neither seen nor felt his presence since that fateful night. What did I +write? I don't remember. I seem to be living in a dream. Everything is +confused about me but Eva's face, Eva's smile. They are blissfully +clear. Sometimes I wish they were not. Were they confused amid these +shadows, I might have stronger hope of keeping my word to Felix. Now, I +shall never keep it. Eva once my wife, separation between us will become +impossible. John Poindexter is ill.</p></td></tr> + + + +<tr><td>LETTER XII.</td><td>ENTRY XVIII.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td><p><span class="smcap">Dear Felix</span>:</p> + +<p>Congratulations: visits from my neighbors; all the éclat we could wish +or a true lover hate. The ring you sent fits as if made for her. I am +called in all directions by a thousand duties. I am on exhibition, and +every one's curiosity must be satisfied.</p> + +<p>In haste, <span class="smcap">Thomas</span>.</p></td> + + +<td><p>The wedding is postponed. John Poindexter is very ill. Pray God, Felix +hears nothing of this. He would come here; he would confront his enemy +on his bed of sickness. He would denounce him, and Eva would be lost to +me.</p></td></tr> + +<tr><td>LETTER XIII.</td><td>ENTRY XIX.</td></tr> + + +<tr><td><p><span class="smcap">Dear Felix</span>:</p> + +<p>Eva is not pleased with the arrangements which have been made for our +wedding. John Poindexter likes show; she does not. Which will carry the +day?</p> + +<p>Yours aff., <span class="smcap">Thomas.</span></p></td> + + + +<td><p>Mr. Poindexter is better, but our plans will have to be altered. We now +think we will be married quietly, possibly in New York.</p></td></tr> + +<tr><td>LETTER XIV.</td><td>ENTRY XX.</td></tr> + + + +<tr><td><p><span class="smcap">Dear Felix</span>:</p> + +<p>A compromise has been effected. The wedding will be a quiet one, but not +celebrated here. As you cannot wish to attend it, I will not mention the +place or hour of my marriage, only say that on September 27th at 4 +<span class="smcap">P. M.</span> you may expect my wife and myself at your house.</p> + +<p>Aff., <span class="smcap">Thomas</span>.</p></td> + + + +<td><p>We have decided to be married in New York. Mr. Poindexter needs the +change, and Eva and I are delighted at the prospect of a private +wedding. Then we will be near Felix, but not to subject ourselves to his +will. Oh, no!</p></td></tr> + +<tr><td></td><td>ENTRY XXI.</td></tr> + +<tr><td></td> + +<td><p>Married! She is mine. And now to confront Felix with my determination to +hold on to my happiness. How I love her, and how I pity him! John +Poindexter's wickedness is forgotten, Evelyn but a fading memory. The +whole world seems to hold but three persons—Eva, Felix, and myself. How +will it end? We meet at his home to-morrow.</p></td></tr> + +</table> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IVa" id="CHAPTER_IVa"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>FELIX.</h3> + + +<p>Meanwhile there was another secret struggle going on in the depth of a +nature from which all sympathy was excluded both by the temperament of +the person concerned and the circumstances surrounding him.</p> + +<p>I can but hint at it. Some tragedies lie beyond the ken of man, and this +one we can but gather from stray scraps of torn-up letters addressed to +no one and betraying their authorship only through the writer's hand. +They were found long after the mystery of Felix Cadwalader's death had +been fully accounted for, tucked away under the flooring of Bartow's +room. Where or how procured by him, who can tell?</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Madness!</p> + +<p>"I have seen Eva Poindexter again, and heaven and hell have contended +for me ever since. Eva! Eva! the girl I thought of only as our prey. The +girl I have given to my brother. She is too lovely for him: she is too +lovely for any man unless it be one who has never before thrilled to any +woman's voice, or seen a face that could move his passions or awaken his +affection. Is it love I feel? Can I, Felix, who have had but one +thought, known but one enthusiasm, retain in this breast of iron a spot +however secret, however small, which any woman, least of all his +daughter, could reach? Never! I am the prey of frenzy or the butt of +devils. Yet only the inhabitants of a more celestial sphere brighten +around me when I think of those half-raised eyes, those delicately +parted lips, so devoid of guile, that innocent bearing, and the divine +tenderness, mingled with strength, by which she commands admiration and +awakens love. I must fly. I must never see her again. Thomas's purpose +is steady. He must never see that mine rocks like an idol smitten by a +thunderbolt.</p> + +<p>"If Thomas had not been reared in Paris, he too—But I am the only weak +one. Curses on my——</p> + +<p>"Did I say I would fly? I cannot, not yet. One more glimpse of her face, +if only to satisfy myself that I have reason for this madness. Perhaps I +was but startled yesterday to find a celestial loveliness where I +expected to encounter pallid inanity. If my emotion is due to my own +weakness rather than to her superiority, I had better recognize my folly +before it proves my destruction.</p> + +<p>I will stay and——</p> + +<p>Thomas will not, shall not——</p> + +<p>dexter's daughter——</p> + +<p>hate, hate for Thom——</p> + +<p>"My self-esteem is restored. I have seen her again—him—they were +together—there was true love in his eye—how could I expect him not to +love her—and I was able to hide my anguish and impose his duty on him. +She loves him—or he thinks so—and the work goes on. But I will not +stay to watch its accomplishment. No, no.</p> + +<p>"I told him my story to-night, under the guise of a past experience. Oh, +the devils must laugh at us men! They have reason to. Sometimes I wonder +if my father in the clearness of his new vision does not join them in +their mirth.</p> + +<p>"Home with my unhappy secret! Home, where nothing comes to distract me +from my gnawing griefs and almost intolerable thoughts. I walk the +floors. I cry aloud her name. I cry it even under the portrait of +Evelyn. There are moments when I am tempted to write to Thomas—to +forbid him——</p> + +<p>"Eva! Eva! Eva! Every fibre in my miserable body utters the one word. +But no man shall ever know. Thomas shall never know how the thought of +her fills my days and nights, making my life a torment and the +future——</p> + +<p>"I wait for his letters (scanty they are and cold) as the doomed +criminal awaits his executioner. Does she really love him? Or will that +exquisite, that soulful nature call for a stronger mate, a more +concentrated temperament, a—a——</p> + +<p>"I thought I saw in one of my dark hours my father rising up from his +grave to curse me. Oh! he might curse on if——</p> + +<p>"What have I said about no man knowing? Bartow knows. In his dumbness, +his deafness, he has surprised my secret, and shows that he has done so +by his peering looks, his dissatisfied ways, and a jealousy at which I +could shout aloud in mirth, if I were not more tempted to shriek aloud +in torment. A dumb serving-man, picked up I have almost forgotten where, +jealous of my weakness for John Poindexter's daughter! He was never +jealous of my feeling for Evelyn. Yet till the day I dared fate by +seeking out and looking for the second time upon the woman whose charms +I had scorned, her name often resounded through these rooms, and my eyes +dwelt upon but one spot, and that was where her picture hangs in the +woeful beauty which has become my reproach.</p> + +<p>"I have had a great surprise. The starling, which has been taught to +murmur Evelyn's name, to-day shrieked out, 'Eva! Eva!' My first impulse +was to wring its neck, my next to take it from its cage and hide it in +my bosom. But I did neither. I am still a man.</p> + +<p>"Bartow will wring that bird's neck if I do not. This morning I caught +him with his hand on the cage and a murderous light in his eye, which I +had no difficulty in understanding. Yet he cannot hear the word the +wretched starling murmurs. He only knows it is a word, a name, and he is +determined to suppress it. Shall I string the cage up out of this old +fellow's reach? His deafness, his inability to communicate with others, +the exactness with which he obeys my commands as given him by my colored +slides, his attention to my every wish, consequent upon his almost +animal love for my person, are necessary to me now, while the bird—Ah! +there it goes again, 'Eva! Eva!'</p> + +<p>"Is it hate or love I feel, abhorrence or passion? Love would seek to +save, but I have no thought of saving her, since she has acknowledged +her love for Thomas, and since he—Oh, it is not now for Evelyn's sake I +plan revenge, but for my own! These nights and days of torture—the +revelation I have had of my own nature—the consent I was forced to give +to a marriage which means bliss to them and anguish beyond measure to +me—all this calls for vengeance, and they will not escape, these two. I +have laid my plans deep. I have provided for every contingency. It has +taken time, thought, money. But the result is good. If they cross the +threshold of my circular study, they must consent to my will or perish +here, and I with them. Oh, they shall never live and be happy! Thomas +need not think it. John Poindexter need not think it! I might have +forgotten the oath made on my father's crossed arms, but I will never +forget the immeasurable griefs of these past months or the humiliation +they have brought me. My own weakness is to be avenged—my unheard-of, +my intolerable weakness. Remember Evelyn? Remember Felix! Ah, again! +Eva! Eva! Eva!"</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_Va" id="CHAPTER_Va"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>WHY THE IRON SLIDE REMAINED STATIONARY.</h3> + + +<p>The rest must be told in Thomas's own words, as it forms the chief part +of the confession he made before the detectives:</p> + +<p>According to my promise, I took my young wife to Felix's house on the +day and at the hour proposed. We went on foot, for it was not far from +the hotel where we were then staying, and were received at the door by +an old servant who I had been warned could neither speak nor hear. At +sight of him and the dim, old-fashioned hall stretching out in +aristocratic gloom before us, Eva turned pale and cast me an inquiring +look. But I reassured her with a smile that most certainly contradicted +my own secret dread of the interview before us, and taking her on my +arm, followed the old man down the hall, past the open drawing-room door +(where I certainly thought we should pause), into a room whose plain +appearance made me frown, till Bartow, as I have since heard him called, +threw aside the portière at one end and introduced us into my brother's +study, which at that moment looked like fairyland, or would have, if +Felix, who was its sole occupant, had not immediately drawn our +attention to himself by the remarkable force of his personality, never +so impressive as at that moment.</p> + +<p>Eva, to whom I had said little of this brother, certainly nothing which +would lead her to anticipate seeing either so handsome a man or one of +such mental poise and imposing character, looked frightened and a trifle +awe-struck. But she advanced quite bravely toward him, and at my +introduction smiled with such an inviting grace that I secretly expected +to see him more or less disarmed by it.</p> + +<p>And perhaps he was, for his already pale features turned waxy in the +yellow glare cast by the odd lantern over our heads, and the hand he had +raised in mechanical greeting fell heavily, and he could barely stammer +out some words of welcome. These would have seemed quite inadequate to +the occasion if his eyes which were fixed on her face, had not betrayed +the fact that he was not without feeling, though she little realized the +nature of that feeling or how her very life (for happiness is life) was +trembling in the balance under that indomitable will.</p> + +<p>I who did know—or thought I did—cast him an imploring glance, and, +saying that I had some explanations to make, asked if Mrs. Adams might +not rest here while we had a few words apart.</p> + +<p>He answered me with a strange look. Did he feel the revolt in my tone +and understand then as well as afterward what the nature of my +compliance had been? I shall never know. I only know that he stopped +fumbling with some small object on the table before him, and, bowing +with a sarcastic grace that made me for the first time in my intercourse +with him feel myself his inferior, even in size, led the way to a small +door I had failed to notice up to this moment.</p> + +<p>"Your wife will find it more comfortable here," he observed, with slow +pauses in his speech that showed great, but repressed, excitement. And +he opened the door into what had the appearance of a small but elegant +sleeping-apartment. "What we have to say cannot take long. Mrs. Adams +will not find the wait tedious."</p> + +<p>"No," she smiled, with a natural laugh, born, as I dare hope, of her +perfect happiness. Yet she could not but have considered the proceeding +strange, and my manner, as well as his, scarcely what might be expected +from a bridegroom introducing his bride to his only relative.</p> + +<p>"I will call you—" I began, but the vision of her dimpled face above +the great cluster of roses she carried made me forget to complete my +sentence, and the door closed, and I found myself face to face with +Felix.</p> + +<p>He was breathing easier, and his manner seemed more natural now that we +were alone, yet he did not speak, but cast a strange, if not inquiring, +glance about the room (the weirdest of apartments, as you all well +know), and seeming satisfied with what he saw, why I could not tell, led +the way up to the large table which from the first had appeared to exert +a sort of uncanny magnetism upon him, saying:</p> + +<p>"Come further away. I need air, breathing place in this close room, and +so must you. Besides, why should she hear what we have to say? She will +know the worst soon enough. She seems a gentle-hearted woman."</p> + +<p>"An angel!" I began, but he stopped me with an imperious gesture.</p> + +<p>"We will not discuss your wi—Mrs. Adams," he protested. "Where is John +Poindexter?"</p> + +<p>"At the hotel," I rejoined. "Or possibly he has returned home. I no +longer take account of his existence. Felix, I shall never leave my +wife. I had rather prove recreant to the oath I took before I realized +the worth of the woman whose happiness I vowed to destroy. This is what +I have come to tell you. Make it easy for me, Felix. You are a man who +has loved and suffered. Let us bury the past; let us——"</p> + +<p>Had I hoped I could move him? Perhaps some such child's notion had +influenced me up to this moment. But as these words left my lips, nay, +before I had stumbled through them, I perceived by the set look of his +features, which were as if cast in bronze, that I might falter, but that +he was firm as ever, firmer, it seemed to me, and less easy to be +entreated.</p> + +<p>Yet what of that? At the worst, what had I to fear? A struggle which +might involve Eva in bitter unpleasantness and me in the loss of a +fortune I had come to regard almost as my own. But these were petty +considerations. Eva must know sooner or later my real name and the story +of her father's guilt. Why not now? And if we must start life poor, it +was yet life, while a separation from her——</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Felix had spoken, and in language I was least prepared to +hear.</p> + +<p>"I anticipated this. From the moment you pleaded with me for the +privilege of marrying her, I have looked forward to this outcome and +provided against it. Weakness on the part of her bridegroom was to be +expected; I have, therefore, steeled myself to meet the emergency; for +your oath must be kept!"</p> + +<p>Crushed by the tone in which these words were uttered, a tone that +evinced power against which any ordinary struggle would end in failure, +I cast my eyes about the room in imitation of what I had seen him do a +few minutes before. There was nothing within sight calculated to awaken +distrust, and yet a feeling of distrust (the first I had really felt) +had come with the look he had thrown above and around the mosque-like +interior of the room he called his study. Was it the calm confidence he +showed, or the weirdness of finding myself amid Oriental splendors and +under the influence of night effects in high day and within sound of the +clanging street cars and all the accompanying bustle of every-day +traffic? It is hard to say; but from this moment on I found myself +affected by a vague affright, not on my own account, but on hers whose +voice we could plainly hear humming a gay tune in the adjoining +apartment. But I was resolved to suppress all betrayal of uneasiness. I +even smiled, though I felt the eyes of Evelyn's pictured countenance +upon me; Evelyn's, whose portrait I had never lost sight of from the +moment of entering the room, though I had not given it a direct look and +now stood with my back to it. Felix, who faced it, but who did not raise +his eyes to it, waited a moment for my response, and finding that my +words halted, said again:</p> + +<p>"That oath must be kept!"</p> + +<p>This time I found words with which to answer. "Impossible!" I burst out, +flinging doubt, fear, hesitancy, everything I had hitherto trembled at +to the winds. "It was in my nature to take it, worked upon as I was by +family affection, the awfulness of our father's approaching death, and a +thousand uncanny influences all carefully measured and prepared for this +end. But it is not in my nature to keep it after four months of natural +living in the companionship of a man thirty years removed from his +guilt, and of his guileless and wholly innocent daughter. And you cannot +drive me to it, Felix. No man can force another to abandon his own wife +because of a wicked oath taken long before he knew her. If you think +your money——"</p> + +<p>"Money?" he cried, with a contempt that did justice to my +disinterestedness as well as his own. "I had forgotten I had it. No, +Thomas, I should never weigh money against the happiness of living with +such a woman as your wife appears to be. But her life I might. Carry out +your threat; forget to pay John Poindexter the debt we owe him, and the +matter will assume a seriousness for which you are doubtless poorly +prepared. A daughter dead in her honeymoon will be almost as great a +grief to him as a dishonored one. And either dead or dishonored he must +find her, when he comes here in search of the child he cannot long +forget. Which shall it be? Speak!"</p> + +<p>Was I dreaming? Was this Felix? Was this myself? And was it in my ears +these words were poured?</p> + +<p>With a spring I reached his side where he stood close against the table, +and groaned rather than shrieked the words:</p> + +<p>"You would not kill her! You do not meditate a crime of blood—here—on +her—the innocent—the good——"</p> + +<p>"No," he said; "it will be you who will do that. You who will not wish +to see her languish—suffer—go mad—Thomas, I am not the raving being +you take me for. I am merely a keeper of oaths. Nay, I am more. I have +talents, skill. The house in which you find yourself is proof of this. +This room—see, it has no outlet save those windows, scarcely if at all +perceptible to you, above our heads, and that opening shielded now by a +simple curtain, but which in an instant, without my moving from this +place, I can so hermetically seal that no man, save he be armed with +crowbar and pickaxe, could enter here, even if man could know of our +imprisonment, in a house soon to be closed from top to bottom by my +departing servant."</p> + +<p>"May God protect us!" fell from my lips, as, stiff with horror, I let my +eyes travel from his determined face, first to the windows high over my +head and then to the opening of the door, which, though but a few steps +from where I stood, was as far as possible from the room into which my +darling had been induced to enter.</p> + +<p>Felix, watching me, uttered his explanations as calmly as if the matter +were one of every-day significance. "You are looking for the windows," +he remarked. "They are behind those goblin faces you see outlined on the +tapestries under the ceiling. As for the door, if you had looked to the +left when you entered, you would have detected the edge of a huge steel +plate hanging flush with the casing. This plate can be made to slide +across that opening in an instant just by the touch of my hand on this +button. This done, no power save such as I have mentioned can move it +back again, not even my own. I have forces at my command for sending it +forward, but none for returning it to its place. Do you doubt my +mechanical skill or the perfection of the electrical apparatus I have +caused to be placed here? You need not, Thomas; nor need you doubt the +will that has only to exert itself for an instant to—Shall I press the +button, brother?"</p> + +<p>"No, no!" I shouted in a frenzy, caused rather by my knowledge of the +nature of this man than any especial threat apparent in his voice or +gesture. "Let me think; let me know more fully what your requirements +are—what she must suffer if I consent—and what I."</p> + +<p>He let his hand slip back, that smooth white hand which I had more than +once surveyed in admiration. Then he smiled.</p> + +<p>"I knew you would not be foolish," he said. "Life has its charms even +for hermits like me; and for a <i>beau garçon</i> such as you are——"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" I interposed, maddened into daring his full anger. "It is not my +life I am buying, but hers, possibly yours; for it seems you have +planned to perish with us. Is it not so?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," was his cold reply. "Am I an assassin? Would you expect me +to live, knowing you to be perishing?"</p> + +<p>I stared aghast. Such resolve, such sacrifice of self to an idea was +beyond my comprehension.</p> + +<p>"Why—what?" I stammered. "Why kill us, why kill yourself——"</p> + +<p>The answer overwhelmed me.</p> + +<p>"Remember Evelyn!" shrilled a voice, and I paused, struck dumb with a +superstitious horror I had never believed myself capable of +experiencing. For it was not Felix who spoke, neither was it any +utterance of my own aroused conscience. Muffled, strange, and startling +it came from above, from the hollow spaces of that high vault lit with +the golden glow that henceforth can have but one meaning for me—death.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" I asked. "Another of your mechanical contrivances?"</p> + +<p>He smiled; I had rather he had frowned.</p> + +<p>"Not exactly. A favorite bird, a starling. Alas! he but repeats what he +has heard echoed through the solitude of these rooms. I thought I had +smothered him up sufficiently to insure his silence during this +interview. But he is a self-willed bird, and seems disposed to defy the +wrappings I have bound around him; which fact warns me to be speedy and +hasten our explanations. Thomas, this is what I require: John +Poindexter—you do not know where he is at this hour, but I do—received +a telegram but now, which, if he is a man at all, will bring him to this +house in a half-hour or so from the present moment. It was sent in your +name, and in it you informed him that matters had arisen which demanded +his immediate attention; that you were on your way to your brother's +(giving him this address), where, if you found entrance, you would await +his presence in a room called the study; but that—and here you will see +how his coming will not aid us if that steel plate is once started on +its course—if the possible should occur and your brother should be +absent from home, then he was to await a message from you at the Plaza. +The appearance of the house would inform him whether he would find you +and Eva within; or so I telegraphed him in your name.</p> + +<p>"Thomas, if Bartow fulfils my instructions—and I have never know him to +fail me—he will pass down these stairs and out of this house in just +five minutes. As he is bound on a long-promised journey, and as he +expects me to leave the house immediately after him, he has drawn every +shade and fastened every lock. Consequently, on his exit, the house will +become a tomb, to which, just two weeks from to-day, John Poindexter +will be called again, and in words which will lead to a demolition which +will disclose—what? Let us not forestall the future, our horrible +future, by inquiring. But Thomas, shall Bartow go? Shall I not by signs +he comprehends more readily than other men comprehend speech indicate to +him on his downward passage to the street that I wish him to wait and +open the door to the man whom we have promised to overwhelm in his hour +of satisfaction and pride? You have only to write a line—see! I have +made a copy of the words you must use, lest your self-command should be +too severely taxed. These words left on this table for his +inspection—for you must go and Eva remain—will tell him all he needs +to know from you. The rest can come from my lips after he has read the +signature, which in itself will confound him and prepare the way for +what I have to add. Have you anything to say against this plan? +Anything, I mean, beyond what you have hitherto urged? Anything that I +will consider or which will prevent my finger from pressing the button +on which it rests?"</p> + +<p>I took up the paper. It was lying on the table, where it had evidently +been inscribed simultaneously with or just before our entrance into the +house, and slowly read the few lines I saw written upon it. You know +them, but they will acquire a new significance from your present +understanding of their purpose and intent:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I return you back your daughter. Neither she nor you will ever see +me again. Remember Evelyn!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Amos's Son.</span></p></div> + +<p>"You wish me to sign these words, to put them into my own handwriting, +and so to make them mine? Mine!" I repeated.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and to leave them here on this table for him to see when he +enters. He might not believe any mere statement from me in regard to +your intentions."</p> + +<p>I was filled with horror. Love, life, human hopes, the world's +friendships—all the possibilities of existence, swept in one +concentrated flood of thought and feeling through my outraged +consciousness, and I knew I could never put my name to such a blasphemy +of all that was sacred to man's soul. Tossing the paper in his face, I +cried:</p> + +<p>"You have gone too far! Better her death, better mine, better the +destruction of us all, than such dishonor to the purest thing heaven +ever made. I refuse, Felix—I refuse. And may God have mercy on us all!"</p> + +<p>The moment was ghastly. I saw his face change, his finger tremble where +it hovered above the fatal button; saw—though only in imagination as +yet—the steely edge of that deadly plate of steel advancing beyond the +lintel, and was about to dare all in a sudden grapple with this man, +when a sound from another direction caught my ear, and looking around in +terror of the only intrusion we could fear, beheld Eva advancing from +the room in which we had placed her.</p> + +<p>That moment a blood-red glow took the place of the sickly yellow which +had hitherto filled every recess of this weird apartment. But I scarcely +noticed the change, save as it affected her pallor and gave to her +cheeks the color that was lacking in the roses at her belt.</p> + +<p>Fearless and sweet as in the hour when she first told me that she loved +me, she approached and stood before us.</p> + +<p>"What is this?" she cried. "I have heard words that sound more like the +utterances of some horrid dream than the talk of men and brothers. What +does it mean, Thomas? What does it mean, Mr. ——"</p> + +<p>"Cadwalader," announced Felix, dropping his eyes from her face, but +changing not a whit his features or posture.</p> + +<p>"Cadwalader?" The name was not to her what it was to her father. +"Cadwalader? I have heard that name in my father's house; it was +Evelyn's name, the Evelyn who——"</p> + +<p>"Whom you see painted there over your head," finished Felix, "my sister, +Thomas's sister—the girl whom your father—but I spare you, child +though you be of a man who spared nothing. From your husband you may +learn why a Cadwalader can never find his happiness with a Poindexter. +Why thirty or more years after that young girl's death, you who were not +then born are given at this hour the choice between death and dishonor. +I allow you just five minutes in which to listen. After that you will +let me know your joint decision. Only you must make your talk where you +stand. A step taken by either of you to right or left, and Thomas knows +what will follow."</p> + +<p>Five minutes, with such a justification to make, and such a decision to +arrive at! I felt my head swim, my tongue refuse its office, and stood +dumb and helpless before her till the sight of her dear eyes raised in +speechless trust to mine flooded me with a sense of triumph amid all the +ghastly terrors of the moment, and I broke out in a tumult of speech, in +excuses, explanations, all that comes to one in a more than mortal +crisis.</p> + +<p>She listened, catching my meaning rather from my looks than my words. +Then as the minutes fled and my brother raised a warning hand, she +turned toward him, and said:</p> + +<p>"You are in earnest? We must separate in shame or perish in this +prison-house with you?"</p> + +<p>His answer was mere repetition, mechanical, but firm:</p> + +<p>"You have said it. You have but one minute more, madam."</p> + +<p>She shrank, and all her powers seemed leaving her, then a reaction came, +and a flaming angel stood where but a moment before the most delicate of +women weakly faltered; and giving me a look to see if I had the courage +or the will to lift my hand against my own flesh and blood (alas for us +both! I did not understand her) caught up an old Turkish dagger lying +only too ready to her hand, and plunged it with one sideways thrust into +his side, crying:</p> + +<p>"We cannot part, we cannot die, we are too young, too happy!"</p> + +<p>It was sudden; the birth of purpose in her so unexpected and so rapid +that Felix, the ready, who was prepared for all contingencies, for the +least movement or suggestion of escape, faltered and pressed, not the +fatal button, but his heart.</p> + +<p>One impulsive act on the part of a woman had overthrown all the +fine-spun plans of the subtlest spirit that ever attempted to work its +will in the face of God and man.</p> + +<p>But I did not think of this then; I did not even bestow a thought upon +the narrowness of our escape, or the price which the darling of my heart +might be called upon to pay for this supreme act of self-defence. My +mind, my heart, my interest were with Felix, in whom the nearness of +death had called up all that was strongest and most commanding in his +strong and commanding spirit.</p> + +<p>Though struck to the heart, he had not fallen. It was as if the will +which had sustained him through thirty years of mental torture held him +erect still, that he might give her, Eva, one look, the like of which I +had never seen on mortal face, and which will never leave my heart or +hers until we die. Then as he saw her sink shudderingly down and the +delicate woman reappear in her pallid and shrunken figure, he turned his +eyes on me and I saw,—good God!—a tear well up from those orbs of +stone and fall slowly down his cheek, fast growing hollow under the +stroke of death.</p> + +<p>"Eva! Eva! I love Eva!" shrilled the voice which once before had +startled me from the hollow vault above.</p> + +<p>Felix heard, and a smile faint as the failing rush of blood through his +veins moved his lips and brought a revelation to my soul. He, too, loved +Eva!</p> + +<p>When he saw I knew, the will which had kept him on his feet gave way, +and he sank to the floor murmuring:</p> + +<p>"Take her away! I forgive. Save! Save! She did not know I loved her."</p> + +<p>Eva, aghast, staring with set eyes at her work, had not moved from her +crouching posture. But when she saw that speaking head fall back, the +fine limbs settle into the repose of death, a shock went through her +which I thought would never leave her reason unimpaired.</p> + +<p>"I've killed him!" she murmured. "I've killed him!" and looking wildly +about, her eyes fell on the cross that hung behind us on the wall. It +seemed to remind her that Felix was a Catholic. "Bring it!" she gasped. +"Let him feel it on his breast. It may bring him peace—hope."</p> + +<p>As I rushed to do her bidding, she fell in a heap on the floor.</p> + +<p>"Save!" came again from the lips we thought closed forever in death. And +realizing at the words both her danger and the necessity of her not +opening her eyes again upon this scene, I laid the cross in his arms, +and catching her up from the floor, ran with her out of the house. But +no sooner had I caught sight of the busy street and the stream of +humanity passing before us, than I awoke to an instant recognition of +our peril. Setting my wife down, I commanded life back into her limbs by +the force of my own energy, and then dragging her down the steps, +mingled with the crowd, encouraging her, breathing for her, living in +her till I got her into a carriage and we drove away.</p> + +<p>For the silence we have maintained from that time to this you must not +blame Mrs. Adams. When she came to herself—which was not for days—she +manifested the greatest desire to proclaim her act and assume its +responsibility. But I would not have it. I loved her too dearly to see +her name bandied about in the papers; and when her father was taken into +our confidence, he was equally peremptory in enjoining silence, and +shared with me the watch I now felt bound to keep over her movements.</p> + +<p>But alas! His was the peremptoriness of pride rather than love. John +Poindexter has no more heart for his daughter than he had for his wife +or that long-forgotten child from whose grave this tragedy has sprung. +Had Felix triumphed he would never have wrung the heart of this man. As +he once said, when a man cares for nothing and nobody, not even for +himself, it is useless to curse him.</p> + +<p>As for Felix himself, judge him not, when you realize, as you now must, +that his last conscious act was to reach for and put in his mouth the +paper which connected Eva with his death. At the moment of death his +thought was to save, not to avenge. And this after her hand had struck +him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIa" id="CHAPTER_VIa"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>ANSWERED.</h3> + + +<p>A silence more or less surcharged with emotion followed this final +appeal. Then, while the various auditors of this remarkable history +whispered together and Thomas Adams turned in love and anxiety toward +his wife, the inspector handed back to Mr. Gryce the memorandum he had +received from him.</p> + +<p>It presented the following appearance:</p> + +<div class="sidenote">Answered</div> + +<p>1. Why a woman who was calm enough to stop and arrange her hair during +the beginning of an interview should be wrought up to such a pitch of +frenzy and exasperation before it was over as to kill with her own hand +a man she had evidently had no previous grudge against. (Remember the +comb found on the floor of Mr. Adams's bedroom.)</p> + +<div class="sidenote">Answered</div> + +<p>2. What was the meaning of the following words, written just previous to +this interview by the man thus killed: "I return you your daughter. +Neither you nor she will ever see me again. Remember Evelyn!"</p> + +<div class="sidenote">Answered</div> + +<p>3. Why was the pronoun "I" used in this communication? What position did +Mr. Felix Adams hold toward this young girl qualifying him to make use +of such language after her marriage to his brother?</p> + +<div class="sidenote">Answered</div> + +<p>4. And having used it, why did he, upon being attacked by her, attempt +to swallow the paper upon which he had written these words, actually +dying with it clinched between his teeth?</p> + +<div class="sidenote">Answered</div> + +<p>5. If he was killed in anger and died as monsters do (her own word), why +did his face show sorrow rather than hate, and a determination as far as +possible removed from the rush of over-whelming emotions likely to +follow the reception of a mortal blow from the hand of an unexpected +antagonist?</p> + +<div class="sidenote">Answered</div> + +<p>6. Why, if he had strength to seize the above-mentioned paper and convey +it to his lips, did he not use that strength in turning on a light +calculated to bring him assistance, instead of leaving blazing the +crimson glow which, according to the code of signals as now understood +by us, means: "Nothing more required just now. Keep away?"</p> + +<div class="sidenote">Answered</div> + +<p>7. What was the meaning of the huge steel plate found between the +casings of the doorway, and why did it remain at rest within its socket +at this, the culminating, moment of his life?</p> + +<div class="sidenote">Answered</div> + +<p>8. An explanation of how old Poindexter came to appear on the scene so +soon after the event. His words as overheard were: "It is Amos' son, not +Amos!" Did he not know whom he was to meet in this house? Was the +condition of the man lying before him with a cross on his bosom and a +dagger in his heart less of a surprise to him than the personality of +the victim?</p> + +<div class="sidenote">Not Answered</div> + +<p>9. Remember the conclusions we have drawn from Bartow's pantomime. Mr. +Adams was killed by a left-handed thrust. Watch for an acknowledgment +that the young woman is left-handed, and do not forget that an +explanation is due why for so long a time she held her other arm +stretched out behind her.</p> + +<div class="sidenote">Answered</div> + +<p>10. Why did the bird whose chief cry is "Remember Evelyn!" sometimes +vary it with "Poor Eva! Lovely Eva! Who would strike Eva?" The story of +this tragedy, to be true, must show that Mr. Adams knew his brother's +bride both long and well.</p> + +<div class="sidenote">Answered</div> + +<p>11. If Bartow is, as we think, innocent of all connection with this +crime save as witness, why does he show such joy at its result? This may +not reasonably be expected to fall within the scope of Thomas Adams's +confession, but it should not be ignored by us. This deaf-and-dumb +servitor was driven mad by the fact which caused him joy. Why?<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> It must be remembered that the scraps of writing in Felix's +hand had not yet been found by the police. The allusions in them to +Bartow show him to have been possessed by a jealousy which probably +turned to delight when he saw his master smitten down by the object of +that master's love and his own hatred. How he came to recognize in the +bride of another man the owner of the name he so often saw hovering on +the lips of his master, is a question to be answered by more astute +students of the laws of perception than myself. Probably he spent much +of his time at the loophole on the stairway, studying his master till he +understood his every gesture and expression.</p></div> + +<div class="sidenote">Answered</div> + +<p>12. Notice the following schedule. It has been drawn up after repeated +experiments with Bartow and the various slides of the strange lamp which +cause so many different lights to shine out in Mr. Adams's study:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">White light—Water wanted.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Green light—Overcoat and hat to be brought.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blue light—Put back books on shelves.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Violet light—Arrange study for the night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yellow light—Watch for next light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red light—Nothing wanted; stay away.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The last was on at the final scene. Note if this fact can be explained +by Mr. Adams's account of the same.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Two paragraphs alone lacked complete explanation. The first, No. 9, was +important. The description of the stroke dealt by Mr. Adams's wife did +not account for this peculiar feature in Bartow's pantomime. Consulting +with the inspector, Mr. Gryce finally approached Mr. Adams and inquired +if he had strength to enact before them the blow as he had seen it dealt +by his wife.</p> + +<p>The startled young man looked the question he dared not ask. In common +with others, he knew that Bartow had made some characteristic gestures +in endeavoring to describe this crime, but he did not know what they +were, as this especial bit of information had been carefully held back +by the police. He, therefore, did not respond hastily to the suggestion +made him, but thought intently for a moment before he thrust out his +left hand and caught up some article or other from the inspector's table +and made a lunge with it across his body into an imaginary victim at his +right. Then he consulted the faces about him with inexpressible anxiety. +He found little encouragement in their aspect.</p> + +<p>"You would make your wife out left-handed," suggested Mr. Gryce. "Now I +have been watching her ever since she came into this place, and I have +seen no evidence of this."</p> + +<p>"She is not left-handed, but she thrust with her left hand, because her +right was fast held in mine. I had seized her instinctively as she +bounded forward for the weapon, and the convulsive clutch of our two +hands was not loosed till the horror of her act made her faint, and she +fell away from me to the floor crying: 'Tear down the cross and lay it +on your brother's breast. I would at least see him die the death of a +Christian.'"</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce glanced at the inspector with an air of great relief. The +mystery of the constrained attitude of the right hand which made +Bartow's pantomime so remarkable was now naturally explained, and taking +up the blue pencil which the inspector had laid down, he wrote, with a +smile, a very decided "answered" across paragraph No. 9.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIIa" id="CHAPTER_VIIa"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>LAST WORDS.</h3> + + +<p>A few minutes later Mr. Gryce was to be seen in the outer room, gazing +curiously at the various persons there collected. He was seeking an +answer to a question that was still disturbing his mind, and hoped to +find it there. He was not disappointed. For in a quiet corner he +encountered the amiable form of Miss Butterworth, calmly awaiting the +result of an interference which she in all probability had been an +active agent in bringing about.</p> + +<p>He approached and smilingly accused her of this. But she disclaimed the +fact with some heat.</p> + +<p>"I was simply there," she explained. "When the crisis came, when this +young creature learned that her husband had left suddenly for New York +in the company of two men, then—why then, it became apparent to every +one that a woman should be at her side who understood her case and the +extremity in which she found herself. And I was that woman."</p> + +<p>"You are always that woman," he gallantly replied, "if by the phrase you +mean being in the right place at the right time. So you are already +acquainted with Mrs. Adams's story?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; the ravings of a moment told me she was the one who had handled +the dagger that slew Mr. Adams. Afterward, she was able to explain the +cause of what has seemed to us such a horrible crime. When I heard her +story, Mr. Gryce, I no longer hesitated either as to her duty or mine. +Do you think she will be called upon to answer for this blow? Will she +be tried, convicted?"</p> + +<p>"Madam, there are not twelve men in the city so devoid of intelligence +as to apply the name of crime to an act which was so evidently one of +self-defence. No true bill will be found against young Mrs. Adams. Rest +easy."</p> + +<p>The look of gloom disappeared from Miss Butterworth's eyes.</p> + +<p>"Then I may return home in peace," she cried. "It has been a desperate +five hours for me, and I feel well shaken up. Will you escort me to my +carriage?"</p> + +<p>Miss Butterworth did not look shaken up. Indeed, in Mr. Gryce's +judgment, she had never appeared more serene or more comfortable. But +she was certainly the best judge of her own condition; and after +satisfying herself that the object of her care was reviving under the +solicitous ministrations of her husband, she took the arm which Mr. +Gryce held out to her and proceeded to her carriage.</p> + +<p>As he assisted her in, he asked a few questions about Mr. Poindexter.</p> + +<p>"Why is not Mrs. Adams's father here? Did he allow his daughter to leave +him on such an errand as this without offering to accompany her?"</p> + +<p>The answer was curtness itself:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Poindexter is a man without heart. He came with us to New York, but +refused to follow us to Police Headquarters. Sir, you will find that the +united passions of three burning souls, and a revenge the most deeply +cherished of any I ever knew or heard of, have been thrown away on a man +who is positively unable to suffer. Do not mention old John Poindexter +to me. And now, if you will be so good, tell the coachman to drive me to +my home in Gramercy Park. I have put my finger in the police pie for the +last time, Mr. Gryce—positively for the last time." And she sank back +on the carriage cushions with an inexorable look, which, nevertheless, +did not quite conceal a quiet complacency which argued that she was not +altogether dissatisfied with herself or the result of her interference +in matters usually considered at variance with a refined woman's natural +instincts.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce, in repressing a smile, bowed lower even than his wont, and, +under the shadow of this bow, the carriage drove off. As he walked +slowly back, he sighed. Was he wondering if a case of similar interest +would ever bring them together again in consultation?</p> + + +<p>THE END.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Circular Study, by Anna Katharine Green + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CIRCULAR STUDY *** + +***** This file should be named 18761-h.htm or 18761-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/7/6/18761/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** + + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/18761-h/images/cover.jpg b/18761-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4bf31a4 --- /dev/null +++ b/18761-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/18761-h/images/diagram.jpg b/18761-h/images/diagram.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b2d4400 --- /dev/null +++ b/18761-h/images/diagram.jpg diff --git a/18761.txt b/18761.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..49e8bf9 --- /dev/null +++ b/18761.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6675 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Circular Study, by Anna Katharine Green + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Circular Study + +Author: Anna Katharine Green + +Release Date: July 5, 2006 [EBook #18761] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CIRCULAR STUDY *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + THE CIRCULAR STUDY + + BY ANNA KATHARINE GREEN + + 1900 + + DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY + GARDEN CITY NEW YORK + 1914 + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + BOOK I.--A STRANGE CRIME. + + I.--Red Light + + II.--Mysteries + + III.--The Mute Servitor + + IV.--A New Experience for Mr. Gryce + + V.--Five Small Spangles + + VI.--Suggestions From an Old Friend + + VII.--Amos's Son + + VIII.--In the Round of the Staircase + + IX.--High and Low + + X.--Bride Roses + + XI.--Misery + + XII.--Thomas Explains + + XIII.--Despair + + XIV.--Memoranda + + + BOOK II.--REMEMBER EVELYN. + + I.--The Secret of the Cadwaladers + + II.--The Oath + + III.--Eva + + IV.--Felix + + V.--Why the Iron Slide Remained Stationary + + VI.--Answered + + VII.--Last Words + + + + +BOOK I + +A STRANGE CRIME + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +RED LIGHT. + + +Mr. Gryce was melancholy. He had attained that period in life when the +spirits flag and enthusiasm needs a constant spur, and of late there had +been a lack of special excitement, and he felt dull and superannuated. +He was even contemplating resigning his position on the force and +retiring to the little farm he had bought for himself in Westchester; +and this in itself did not tend to cheerfulness, for he was one to whom +action was a necessity and the exercise of his mental faculties more +inspiring than any possible advantage which might accrue to him from +their use. + +But he was not destined to carry out this impulse yet. For just at the +height of his secret dissatisfaction there came a telephone message to +Headquarters which roused the old man to something like his former vigor +and gave to the close of this gray fall day an interest he had not +expected to feel again in this or any other kind of day. It was sent +from Carter's well-known drug store, and was to the effect that a lady +had just sent a boy in from the street to say that a strange crime had +been committed in ----'s mansion round the corner. The boy did not know +the lady, and was shy about showing the money she had given him, but +that he had money was very evident, also, that he was frightened enough +for his story to be true. If the police wished to communicate with him, +he could be found at Carter's, where he would be detained till an order +for his release should be received. + +A _strange_ crime! That word "strange" struck Mr. Gryce, and made him +forget his years in wondering what it meant. Meanwhile the men about him +exchanged remarks upon the house brought thus unexpectedly to their +notice. As it was one of the few remaining landmarks of the preceding +century, and had been made conspicuous moreover by the shops, +club-houses, and restaurants pressing against it on either side, it had +been a marked spot for years even to those who knew nothing of its +history or traditions. + +And now a crime had taken place in it! Mr. Gryce, in whose ears that +word "strange" rang with quiet insistence, had but to catch the eye of +the inspector in charge to receive an order to investigate the affair. +He started at once, and proceeded first to the drug store. There he +found the boy, whom he took along with him to the house indicated in the +message. On the way he made him talk, but there was nothing the poor +waif could add to the story already sent over the telephone. He +persisted in saying that a lady (he did not say woman) had come up to +him while he was looking at some toys in a window, and, giving him a +piece of money, had drawn him along the street as far as the drug store. +Here she showed him another coin, promising to add it to the one he had +already pocketed if he would run in to the telephone clerk with a +message for the police. He wanted the money, and when he grabbed at it +she said that all he had to do was to tell the clerk that a strange +crime had been committed in the old house on ---- Street. This scared +him, and he was sliding off, when she caught him again and shook him +until his wits came back, after which he ran into the store and +delivered the message. + +There was candor in the boy's tone, and Mr. Gryce was disposed to +believe him; but when he was asked to describe the lady, he showed that +his powers of observation were no better than those of most of his +class. All he could say was that she was a stunner, and wore shiny +clothes and jewels, and Mr. Gryce, recognizing the lad's limitations at +the very moment he found himself in view of the house he was making for, +ceased to question him, and directed all his attention to the building +he was approaching. + +Nothing in the exterior bespoke crime or even disturbance. A shut door, +a clean stoop, heavily curtained windows (some of which were further +shielded by closely drawn shades) were eloquent of inner quiet and +domestic respectability, while its calm front of brick, with brownstone +trimmings, offered a pleasing contrast to the adjoining buildings +jutting out on either side, alive with signs and humming with business. + +"Some mistake," muttered Gryce to himself, as the perfect calm reigning +over the whole establishment struck him anew. But before he had decided +that he had been made the victim of a hoax, a movement took place in the +area under the stoop, and an officer stepped out, with a countenance +expressive of sufficient perplexity for Mr. Gryce to motion him back +with the hurried inquiry: "Anything wrong? Any blood shed? All seems +quiet here." + +The officer, recognizing the old detective, touched his hat. "Can't get +in," said he. "Have rung all the bells. Would think the house empty if I +had not seen something like a stir in one of the windows overhead. Shall +I try to make my way into the rear yard through one of the lower windows +of Knapp & Co.'s store, next door?" + +"Yes, and take this boy with you. Lock him up in some one of their +offices, and then break your way into this house by some means. It ought +to be easy enough from the back yard." + +The officer nodded, took the boy by the arm, and in a trice had +disappeared with him into the adjoining store. Mr. Gryce remained in the +area, where he was presently besieged by a crowd of passers-by, eager to +add their curiosity to the trouble they had so quickly scented. The +opening of the door from the inside speedily put an end to importunities +for which he had as yet no reply, and he was enabled to slip within, +where he found himself in a place of almost absolute quiet. Before him +lay a basement hall leading to a kitchen, which, even at that moment, he +noticed to be in trimmer condition than is usual where much housework is +done, but he saw nothing that bespoke tragedy, or even a break in the +ordinary routine of life as observed in houses of like size and +pretension. + +Satisfied that what he sought was not to be found here, he followed the +officer upstairs. As they emerged upon the parlor floor, the latter +dropped the following information: + +"Mr. Raffner of the firm next door says that the man who lives here is +an odd sort of person whom nobody knows; a bookworm, I think they call +him. He has occupied the house six months, yet they have never seen any +one about the premise but himself and a strange old servant as peculiar +and uncommunicative as his master." + +"I know," muttered Mr. Gryce. He did know, everybody knew, that this +house, once the seat of one of New York's most aristocratic families, +was inhabited at present by a Mr. Adams, noted alike for his more than +common personal attractions, his wealth, and the uncongenial nature of +his temperament, which precluded all association with his kind. It was +this knowledge which had given zest to this investigation. To enter the +house of such a man was an event in itself: to enter it on an errand of +life and death--Well, it is under the inspiration of such opportunities +that life is reawakened in old veins, especially when those veins +connect the heart and brain of a sagacious, if octogenarian, detective. + +The hall in which they now found themselves was wide, old-fashioned, and +sparsely furnished in the ancient manner to be observed in such +time-honored structures. Two doors led into this hall, both of which now +stood open. Taking advantage of this fact, they entered the nearest, +which was nearly opposite the top of the staircase they had just +ascended, and found themselves in a room barren as a doctor's outer +office. There was nothing here worth their attention, and they would +have left the place as unceremoniously as they had entered it if they +had not caught glimpses of richness which promised an interior of +uncommon elegance, behind the half-drawn folds of a portiere at the +further end of the room. + +Advancing through the doorway thus indicated, they took one look about +them and stood appalled. Nothing in their experience (and they had both +experienced much) had prepared them for the thrilling, the solemn nature +of what they were here called upon to contemplate. + +Shall I attempt its description? + +A room small and of circular shape, hung with strange tapestries +relieved here and there by priceless curios, and lit, although it was +still daylight, by a jet of rose-colored light concentrated, not on the +rows and rows of books around the lower portion of the room, or on the +one great picture which at another time might have drawn the eye and +held the attention, but on the upturned face of a man lying on a +bearskin rug with a dagger in his heart and on his breast a cross whose +golden lines, sharply outlined against his long, dark, swathing garment, +gave him the appearance of a saint prepared in some holy place for +burial, save that the dagger spoke of violent death, and his face of an +anguish for which Mr. Gryce, notwithstanding his lifelong experience, +found no name, so little did it answer to a sensation of fear, pain, or +surprise, or any of the emotions usually visible on the countenances of +such as have fallen under the unexpected stroke of an assassin. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +MYSTERIES. + + +A moment of indecision, of awe even, elapsed before Mr. Gryce recovered +himself. The dim light, the awesome silence, the unexpected surroundings +recalling a romantic age, the motionless figure of him who so lately had +been the master of the house, lying outstretched as for the tomb, with +the sacred symbol on his breast offering such violent contradiction to +the earthly passion which had driven the dagger home, were enough to +move even the tried spirit of this old officer of the law and confuse a +mind which, in the years of his long connection with the force, had had +many serious problems to work upon, but never one just like this. + +It was only for a moment, though. Before the man behind him had given +utterance to his own bewilderment and surprise, Mr. Gryce had passed in +and taken his stand by the prostrate figure. + +That it was that of a man who had long since ceased to breathe he could +not for a moment doubt; yet his first act was to make sure of the fact +by laying his hand on the pulse and examining the eyes, whose expression +of reproach was such that he had to call up all his professional +sangfroid to meet them. + +He found the body still warm, but dead beyond all question, and, once +convinced of this, he forbore to draw the dagger from the wound, though +he did not fail to give it the most careful attention before turning his +eyes elsewhere. It was no ordinary weapon. It was a curio from some +oriental shop. This in itself seemed to point to suicide, but the +direction in which the blade had entered the body and the position of +the wound were not such as would be looked for in a case of self-murder. + +The other clews were few. Though the scene had been one of bloodshed and +death, the undoubted result of a sudden and fierce attack, there were no +signs of struggle to be found in the well-ordered apartment. Beyond a +few rose leaves scattered on the floor, the room was a scene of peace +and quiet luxury. Even the large table which occupied the centre of the +room and near which the master of the house had been standing when +struck gave no token of the tragedy which had been enacted at its side. +That is, not at first glance; for though its large top was covered with +articles of use and ornament, they all stood undisturbed and presumably +in place, as if the shock which had laid their owner low had failed to +be communicated to his belongings. + +The contents of the table were various. Only a man of complex tastes and +attainments could have collected and arranged in one small compass +pipes, pens, portraits, weights, measures, Roman lamps, Venetian glass, +rare porcelains, medals, rough metal work, manuscript, a scroll of +music, a pot of growing flowers, and--and--(this seemed oddest of all) a +row of electric buttons, which Mr. Gryce no sooner touched than the +light which had been burning redly in the cage of fretted ironwork +overhead changed in a twinkling to a greenish glare, filling the room +with such ghastly tints that Mr. Gryce sought in haste another button, +and, pressing it, was glad to see a mild white radiance take the place +of the sickly hue which had added its own horror to the already solemn +terrors of the spot. + +"Childish tricks for a man of his age and position," ruminated Mr. +Gryce; but after catching another glimpse of the face lying upturned at +his feet he was conscious of a doubt as to whether the owner of that +countenance could have possessed an instinct which was in any wise +childish, so strong and purposeful were his sharply cut features. +Indeed, the face was one to make an impression under any circumstances. +In the present instance, and with such an expression stamped upon it, it +exerted a fascination which disturbed the current of the detective's +thoughts whenever by any chance he allowed it to get between him and his +duty. To attribute folly to a man with such a mouth and such a chin was +to own one's self a poor judge of human nature. Therefore, the lamp +overhead, with its electric connection and changing slides, had a +meaning which at present could be sought for only in the evidences of +scientific research observable in the books and apparatus everywhere +surrounding him. + +Letting the white light burn on, Mr. Gryce, by a characteristic effort, +shifted his attention to the walls, covered, as I have said, with +tapestries and curios. There was nothing on them calculated to aid him +in his research into the secret of this crime, unless--yes, there _was_ +something, a bent-down nail, wrenched from its place, the nail on which +the cross had hung which now lay upon the dead man's heart. The cord by +which it had been suspended still clung to the cross and mingled its red +threads with that other scarlet thread which had gone to meet it from +the victim's wounded breast. Who had torn down that cross? Not the +victim himself. With such a wound, any such movement would have been +impossible. Besides, the nail and the empty place on the wall were as +far removed from where he lay as was possible in the somewhat +circumscribed area of this circular apartment. Another's hand, then, had +pulled down this symbol of peace and pardon, and placed it where the +dying man's fleeting breath would play across it, a peculiar exhibition +of religious hope or mad remorse, to the significance of which Mr. Gryce +could not devote more than a passing thought, so golden were the moments +in which he found himself alone upon this scene of crime. + +Behind the table and half-way up the wall was a picture, the only large +picture in the room. It was the portrait of a young girl of an extremely +interesting and pathetic beauty. From her garb and the arrangement of +her hair, it had evidently been painted about the end of our civil war. +In it was to be observed the same haunting quality of intellectual charm +visible in the man lying prone upon the floor, and though she was fair +and he dark, there was sufficient likeness between the two to argue some +sort of relationship between them. Below this picture were fastened a +sword, a pair of epaulettes, and a medal such as was awarded for valor +in the civil war. + +"Mementoes which may help us in our task," mused the detective. + +Passing on, he came unexpectedly upon a narrow curtain, so dark of hue +and so akin in pattern to the draperies on the adjoining walls that it +had up to this time escaped his attention. It was not that of a window, +for such windows as were to be seen in this unique apartment were high +upon the wall, indeed, almost under the ceiling. It must, therefore, +drape the opening into still another communicating room. And such he +found to be the case. Pushing this curtain aside, he entered a narrow +closet containing a bed, a dresser, and a small table. The bed was the +narrow cot of a bachelor, and the dresser that of a man of luxurious +tastes and the utmost nicety of habit. Both the bed and dresser were in +perfect order, save for a silver-backed comb, which had been taken from +the latter, and which he presently found lying on the floor at the other +end of the room. This and the presence of a pearl-handled parasol on a +small stand near the door proclaimed that a woman had been there within +a short space of time. The identity of this woman was soon established +in his eyes by a small but unmistakable token connecting her with the +one who had been the means of sending in the alarm to the police. The +token of which I speak was a little black spangle, called by milliners +and mantua-makers a sequin, which lay on the threshold separating this +room from the study; and as Mr. Gryce, attracted by its sparkle, stooped +to examine it, his eye caught sight of a similar one on the floor +beyond, and of still another a few steps farther on. The last one lay +close to the large centre-table before which he had just been standing. + +The dainty trail formed by these bright sparkling drops seemed to affect +him oddly. He knew, minute observer that he was, that in the manufacture +of this garniture the spangles are strung on a thread which, if once +broken, allows them to drop away one by one, till you can almost follow +a woman so arrayed by the sequins that fall from her. Perhaps it was the +delicate nature of the clew thus offered that pleased him, perhaps it +was a recognition of the irony of fate in thus making a trap for unwary +mortals out of their vanities. Whatever it was, the smile with which he +turned his eye upon the table toward which he had thus been led was very +eloquent. But before examining this article of furniture more closely, +he attempted to find out where the thread had become loosened which had +let the spangles fall. Had it caught on any projection in doorway or +furniture? He saw none. All the chairs were cushioned and--But wait! +there was the cross! That had a fretwork of gold at its base. Might not +this filagree have caught in her dress as she was tearing down the cross +from the wall and so have started the thread which had given him this +exquisite clew? + +Hastening to the spot where the cross had hung, he searched the floor at +his feet, but found nothing to confirm his conjecture until he had +reached the rug on which the prostrate man lay. There, amid the long +hairs of the bearskin, he came upon one other spangle, and knew that the +woman in the shiny clothes had stooped there before him. + +Satisfied on this point, he returned to the table, and this time +subjected it to a thorough and minute examination. That the result was +not entirely unsatisfactory was evident from the smile with which he +eyed his finger after having drawn it across a certain spot near the +inkstand, and also from the care with which he lifted that inkstand and +replaced it in precisely the same spot from which he had taken it up. +Had he expected to find something concealed under it? Who can tell? A +detective's face seldom yields up its secrets. + +He was musing quite intently before this table when a quick step behind +him made him turn. Styles, the officer, having now been over the house, +had returned, and was standing before him in the attitude of one who has +something to say. + +"What is it?" asked Mr. Gryce, with a quick movement in his direction. + +For answer the officer pointed to the staircase visible through the +antechamber door. + +"Go up!" was indicated by his gesture. + +Mr. Gryce demurred, casting a glance around the room, which at that +moment interested him so deeply. At this the man showed some excitement, +and, breaking silence, said: + +"Come! I have lighted on the guilty party. He is in a room upstairs." + +"He?" Mr. Gryce was evidently surprised at the pronoun. + +"Yes; there can be no doubt about it. When you see him--but what is +that? Is he coming down? I'm sure there's nobody else in the house. +Don't you hear footsteps, sir?" + +Mr. Gryce nodded. Some one was certainly descending the stairs. + +"Let us retreat," suggested Styles. "Not because the man is dangerous, +but because it is very necessary you should see him before he sees you. +He's a very strange-acting man, sir; and if he comes in here, will be +sure to do something to incriminate himself. Where can we hide?" + +Mr. Gryce remembered the little room he had just left, and drew the +officer toward it. Once installed inside, he let the curtain drop till +only a small loophole remained. The steps, which had been gradually +growing louder, kept advancing; and presently they could hear the +intruder's breathing, which was both quick and labored. + +"Does he know that any one has entered the house? Did he see you when +you came upon him upstairs?" whispered Mr. Gryce into the ear of the man +beside him. + +Styles shook his head, and pointed eagerly toward the opposite door. The +man for whose appearance they waited had just lifted the portiere and in +another moment stood in full view just inside the threshold. + +Mr. Gryce and his attendant colleague both stared. Was this the +murderer? This pale, lean servitor, with a tray in his hand on which +rested a single glass of water? + +Mr. Gryce was so astonished that he looked at Styles for explanation. +But that officer, hiding his own surprise, for he had not expected this +peaceful figure, urged him in a whisper to have patience, and both, +turning toward the man again, beheld him advance, stop, cast one look at +the figure lying on the floor and then let slip the glass with a low cry +that at once changed to something like a howl. + +"Look at him! Look at him!" urged Styles, in a hurried whisper. "Watch +what he will do now. You will see a murderer at work." + +And sure enough, in another instant this strange being, losing all +semblance to his former self, entered upon a series of pantomimic +actions which to the two men who watched him seemed both to explain and +illustrate the crime which had just been enacted there. + +With every appearance of passion, he stood contemplating the empty air +before him, and then, with one hand held stretched out behind him in a +peculiarly cramped position, he plunged with the other toward a table +from which he made a feint of snatching something which he no sooner +closed his hand upon than he gave a quick side-thrust, still at the +empty air, which seemed to quiver in return, so vigorous was his action +and so evident his intent. + +The reaction following this thrust; the slow unclosing of his hand from +an imaginary dagger; the tottering of his body backward; then the moment +when with wide open eyes he seemed to contemplate in horror the result +of his own deed;--these needed no explanation beyond what was given by +his writhing features and trembling body. Gradually succumbing to the +remorse or terror of his own crime, he sank lower and lower, until, +though with that one arm still stretched out, he lay in an inert heap on +the floor. + +"It is what I saw him do upstairs," murmured Styles into the ear of the +amazed detective. "He has evidently been driven insane by his own act." + +Mr. Gryce made no answer. Here was a problem for the solution of which +he found no precedent in all his past experience. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE MUTE SERVITOR. + + +Meanwhile the man who, to all appearance, had just re-enacted before +them the tragedy which had so lately taken place in this room, rose to +his feet, and, with a dazed air as unlike his former violent expression +as possible, stooped for the glass he had let fall, and was carrying it +out when Mr. Gryce called to him: + +"Wait, man! You needn't take that glass away. We first want to hear how +your master comes to be lying here dead." + +It was a demand calculated to startle any man. But this one showed +himself totally unmoved by it, and was passing on when Styles laid a +detaining hand on his shoulder. + +"Stop!" said he. "What do you mean by sliding off like this? Don't you +hear the gentleman speaking to you?" + +This time the appeal told. The glass fell again from the man's hand, +mingling its clink (for it struck the floor this time and broke) with +the cry he gave--which was not exactly a cry either, but an odd sound +between a moan and a shriek. He had caught sight of the men who were +seeking to detain him, and his haggard look and cringing form showed +that he realized at last the terrors of his position. Next minute he +sought to escape, but Styles, gripping him more firmly, dragged him back +to where Mr. Gryce stood beside the bearskin rug on which lay the form +of his dead master. + +Instantly, at the sight of this recumbent figure, another change took +place in the entrapped butler. Joy--that most hellish of passions in the +presence of violence and death--illumined his wandering eye and +distorted his mouth; and, seeking no disguise for the satisfaction he +felt, he uttered a low but thrilling laugh, which rang in unholy echo +through the room. + +Mr. Gryce, moved in spite of himself by an abhorrence which the +irresponsible condition of this man seemed only to emphasize, waited +till the last faint sounds of this diabolical mirth had died away in the +high recesses of the space above. Then, fixing the glittering eye of +this strange creature with his own, which, as we know, so seldom dwelt +upon that of his fellow-beings, he sternly said: + +"There now! Speak! Who killed this man? You were in the house with him, +and should know." + +The butler's lips opened and a string of strange gutturals poured forth, +while with his one disengaged hand (for the other was held to his side +by Styles) he touched his ears and his lips, and violently shook his +head. + +There was but one interpretation to be given to this. The man was deaf +and dumb. + +The shock of this discovery was too much for Styles. His hand fell from +the other's arms, and the man, finding himself free, withdrew to his +former place in the room, where he proceeded to enact again and with +increased vivacity first the killing of and then the mourning for his +master, which but a few moments before had made so suggestive an +impression upon them. This done, he stood waiting, but this time with +that gleam of infernal joy in the depths of his quick, restless eyes +which made his very presence in this room of death seem a sacrilege and +horror. + +Styles could not stand it. "Can't you speak?" he shouted. "Can't you +hear?" + +The man only smiled, an evil and gloating smile, which Mr. Gryce thought +it his duty to cut short. + +"Take him away!" he cried. "Examine him carefully for blood marks. I am +going up to the room where you saw him first. He is too nearly linked to +this crime not to carry some trace of it away with him." + +But for once even this time-tried detective found himself at fault. No +marks were found on the old servant, nor could they discover in the +rooms above any signs by which this one remaining occupant of the house +could be directly associated with the crime which had taken place within +it. Thereupon Mr. Gryce grew very thoughtful and entered upon another +examination of the two rooms which to his mind held all the clews that +would ever be given to this strange crime. + +The result was meagre, and he was just losing himself again in +contemplation of the upturned face, whose fixed mouth and haunting +expression told such a story of suffering and determination, when there +came from the dim recesses above his head a cry, which, forming itself +into two words, rang down with startling clearness in this most +unexpected of appeals: + +"Remember Evelyn!" + +Remember Evelyn! Who was Evelyn? And to whom did this voice belong, in a +house which had already been ransacked in vain for other occupants? It +seemed to come from the roof, and, sure enough, when Mr. Gryce looked up +he saw, swinging in a cage strung up nearly to the top of one of the +windows I have mentioned, an English starling, which, in seeming +recognition of the attention it had drawn upon itself, craned its neck +as Mr. Gryce looked up, and shrieked again, with fiercer insistence than +before: + +"Remember Evelyn!" + +It was the last uncanny touch in a series of uncanny experiences. With +an odd sense of nightmare upon him, Mr. Gryce leaned forward on the +study table in his effort to obtain a better view of this bird, when, +without warning, the white light, which since his last contact with the +electrical apparatus had spread itself through the room, changed again +to green, and he realized that he had unintentionally pressed a button +and thus brought into action another slide in the curious lamp over his +head. + +Annoyed, for these changing hues offered a problem he was as yet too +absorbed in other matters to make any attempt to solve, he left the +vicinity of the table, and was about to leave the room when he heard +Styles's voice rise from the adjoining antechamber, where Styles was +keeping guard over the old butler: + +"Shall I let him go, Mr. Gryce? He seems very uneasy; not dangerous, you +know, but anxious; as if he had forgotten something or recalled some +unfulfilled duty." + +"Yes, let him go," was the detective's quick reply. "Only watch and +follow him. Every movement he makes is of interest. Unconsciously he may +be giving us invaluable clews." And he approached the door to note for +himself what the man might do. + +"Remember Evelyn!" rang out the startling cry from above, as the +detective passed between the curtains. Irresistibly he looked back and +up. To whom was this appeal from a bird's throat so imperatively +addressed? To him or to the man on the floor beneath, whose ears were +forever closed? It might be a matter of little consequence, and it might +be one involving the very secret of this tragedy. But whether important +or not, he could pay no heed to it at this juncture, for the old butler, +coming from the front hall whither he had hurried on being released by +Styles, was at that moment approaching him, carrying in one hand his +master's hat and in the other his master's umbrella. + +Not knowing what this new movement might mean, Mr. Gryce paused where he +was and waited for the man to advance. Seeing this, the mute, to whose +face and bearing had returned the respectful immobility of the trained +servant, handed over the articles he had brought, and then noiselessly, +and with the air of one who had performed an expected service, retreated +to his old place in the antechamber, where he sat down again and fell +almost immediately into his former dazed condition. + +"Humph! mind quite lost, memory uncertain, testimony valueless," were +the dissatisfied reflections of the disappointed detective as he +replaced Mr. Adams's hat and umbrella on the hall rack. "Has he been +brought to this state by the tragedy which has just taken place here, or +is his present insane condition its precursor and cause?" Mr. Gryce +might have found some answer to this question in his own mind if, at +that moment, the fitful clanging of the front door bell, which had +hitherto testified to the impatience of the curious crowd outside, had +not been broken into by an authoritative knock which at once put an end +to all self-communing. + +The coroner, or some equally important person, was at hand, and the +detective's golden hour was over. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +A NEW EXPERIENCE FOR MR. GRYCE. + + +Mr. Gryce felt himself at a greater disadvantage in his attempt to solve +the mystery of this affair than in any other which he had entered upon +in years. First, the victim had been a solitary man, with no household +save his man-of-all-work, the mute. Secondly, he had lived in a portion +of the city where no neighbors were possible; and he had even lacked, as +it now seemed, any very active friends. Though some hours had elapsed +since his death had been noised abroad, no one had appeared at the door +with inquiries or information. This seemed odd, considering that he had +been for some months a marked figure in this quarter of the town. But, +then, everything about this man was odd, nor would it have been in +keeping with his surroundings and peculiar manner of living for him to +have had the ordinary associations of men of his class. + +This absence of the usual means of eliciting knowledge from the +surrounding people, added to, rather than detracted from, the interest +which Mr. Gryce was bound to feel in the case, and it was with a feeling +of relief that a little before midnight he saw the army of reporters, +medical men, officials, and such others as had followed in the coroner's +wake, file out of the front door and leave him again, for a few hours at +least, master of the situation. + +For there were yet two points which he desired to settle before he took +his own much-needed rest. The first occupied his immediate attention. +Passing before a chair in the hall on which a small boy sat dozing, he +roused him with the remark: + +"Come, Jake, it's time to look lively. I want you to go with me to the +exact place where that lady ran across you to-day." + +The boy, half dead with sleep, looked around him for his hat. + +"I'd like to see my mother first," he pleaded. "She must be done up +about me. I never stayed away so long before." + +"Your mother knows where you are. I sent a message to her hours ago. She +gave a very good report of you, Jake; says you're an obedient lad and +that you never have told her a falsehood." + +"She's a good mother," the boy warmly declared. "I'd be as bad--as bad +as my father was, if I did not treat her well." Here his hand fell on +his cap, which he put on his head. + +"I'm ready," said he. + +Mr. Gryce at once led the way into the street. + +The hour was late, and only certain portions of the city showed any real +activity. Into one of these thoroughfares they presently came, and +before the darkened window of one of the lesser shops paused, while Jake +pointed out the two stuffed frogs engaged with miniature swords in +mortal combat at which he had been looking when the lady came up and +spoke to him. + +Mr. Gryce eyed the boy rather than the frogs, though probably the former +would have sworn that his attention had never left that miniature +conflict. + +"Was she a pretty lady?" he asked. + +The boy scratched his head in some perplexity. + +"She made me a good deal afraid of her," he said. "She had very splendid +clothes; oh, gorgeous!" he cried, as if on this question there could be +no doubt. + +"And she was young, and carried a bunch of flowers, and seemed troubled? +What! not young, and carried no flowers--and wasn't even anxious and +trembling?" + +The boy, who had been shaking his head, looked nonplussed. + +"I think as she was what you might call troubled. But she wasn't crying, +and when she spoke to me, she put more feeling into her grip than into +her voice. She just dragged me to the drug-store, sir. If she hadn't +given me money first, I should have wriggled away in spite of her. But I +likes money, sir; I don't get too much of it." + +Mr. Gryce by this time was moving on. "Not young," he repeated to +himself. "Some old flame, then, of Mr. Adams; they're apt to be +dangerous, very dangerous, more dangerous than the young ones." + +In front of the drug-store he paused. "Show me where she stood while you +went in." + +The boy pointed out the identical spot. He seemed as eager as the +detective. + +"And was she standing there when you came out?" + +"Oh, no, sir; she went away while I was inside." + +"Did you see her go? Can you tell me whether she went up street or +down?" + +"I had one eye on her, sir; I was afraid she was coming into the shop +after me, and my arm was too sore for me to want her to clinch hold on +it again. So when she started to go, I took a step nearer, and saw her +move toward the curbstone and hold up her hand. But it wasn't a car she +was after, for none came by for several minutes." + +The fold between Mr. Gryce's eyes perceptibly smoothed out. + +"Then it was some cabman or hack-driver she hailed. Were there any empty +coaches about that you saw?" + +The boy had not noticed. He had reached the limit of his observations, +and no amount of further questioning could elicit anything more from +him. This Mr. Gryce soon saw, and giving him into the charge of one of +his assistants who was on duty at this place, he proceeded back to the +ill-omened house where the tragedy itself had occurred. + +"Any one waiting for me?" he inquired of Styles, who came to the door. + +"Yes, sir; a young man; name, Hines. Says he's an electrician." + +"That's the man I want. Where is he?" + +"In the parlor, sir." + +"Good! I'll see him. But don't let any one else in. Anybody upstairs?" + +"No, sir, all gone. Shall I go up or stay here?" + +"You'd better go up. I'll look after the door." + +Styles nodded, and went toward the stairs, up which he presently +disappeared. Mr. Gryce proceeded to the parlor. + +A dapper young man with an intelligent eye rose to meet him. "You sent +for me," said he. + +The detective nodded, asked a few questions, and seeming satisfied with +the replies he received, led the way into Mr. Adams's study, from which +the body had been removed to an upper room. As they entered, a mild +light greeted them from a candle which, by Mr. Gryce's orders, had been +placed on a small side table near the door. But once in, Mr. Gryce +approached the larger table in the centre of the room, and placing his +hand on one of the buttons before him, asked his companion to be kind +enough to blow out the candle. This he did, leaving the room for a +moment in total darkness. Then with a sudden burst of illumination, a +marvellous glow of a deep violet color shot over the whole room, and the +two men turned and faced each other both with inquiry in their looks, so +unexpected was this theatrical effect to the one, and so inexplicable +its cause and purpose to the other. + +"That is but one slide," remarked Mr. Gryce. "Now I will press another +button, and the color changes to--pink, as you see. This one produces +green, this one white, and this a bilious yellow, which is not becoming +to either of us, I am sure. Now will you examine the connection, and see +if there is anything peculiar about it?" + +Mr. Hines at once set to work. But beyond the fact that the whole +contrivance was the work of an amateur hand, he found nothing strange +about it, except the fact that it worked so well. + +Mr. Gryce showed disappointment. + +"He made it, then, himself?" he asked. + +"Undoubtedly, or some one else equally unacquainted with the latest +method of wiring." + +"Will you look at these books over here and see if sufficient knowledge +can be got from them to enable an amateur to rig up such an arrangement +as this?" + +Mr. Hines glanced at the shelf which Mr. Gryce had pointed out, and +without taking out the books, answered briefly: + +"A man with a deft hand and a scientific turn of mind might, by the aid +of these, do all you see here and more. The aptitude is all." + +"Then I'm afraid Mr. Adams had the aptitude," was the dry response. +There was disappointment in the tone. Why, his next words served to +show. "A man with a turn for mechanical contrivances often wastes much +time and money on useless toys only fit for children to play with. Look +at that bird cage now. Perched at a height totally beyond the reach of +any one without a ladder, it must owe its very evident usefulness (for +you see it holds a rather lively occupant) to some contrivance by which +it can be raised and lowered at will. Where is that contrivance? Can you +find it?" + +The expert thought he could. And, sure enough, after some ineffectual +searching, he came upon another button well hid amid the tapestry on the +wall, which, when pressed, caused something to be disengaged which +gradually lowered the cage within reach of Mr. Gryce's hand. + +"We will not send this poor bird aloft again," said he, detaching the +cage and holding it for a moment in his hand. "An English starling is +none too common in this country. Hark! he is going to speak." + +But the sharp-eyed bird, warned perhaps by the emphatic gesture of the +detective that silence would be more in order at this moment than his +usual appeal to "remember Evelyn," whisked about in his cage for an +instant, and then subsided into a doze, which may have been real, and +may have been assumed under the fascinating eye of the old gentleman who +held him. Mr. Gryce placed the cage on the floor, and idly, or because +the play pleased him, old and staid as he was, pressed another button on +the table--a button he had hitherto neglected touching--and glanced +around to see what color the light would now assume. + +But the yellow glare remained. The investigation which the apparatus had +gone through had probably disarranged the wires. With a shrug he was +moving off, when he suddenly made a hurried gesture, directing the +attention of the expert to a fact for which neither of them was +prepared. The opening which led into the antechamber, and which was the +sole means of communication with the rest of the house, was slowly +closing. From a yard's breadth it became a foot; from a foot it became +an inch; from an inch---- + +"Well, that is certainly the contrivance of a lazy man," laughed the +expert. "Seated in his chair here, he can close his door at will. No +shouting after a deaf servant, no awkward stumbling over rugs to shut it +himself. I don't know but I approve of this contrivance, only----" here +he caught a rather serious expression on Mr. Gryce's face--"the slide +seems to be of a somewhat curious construction. It is not made of wood, +as any sensible door ought to be, but of----" + +"Steel," finished Mr. Gryce in an odd tone. "This is the strangest thing +yet. It begins to look as if Mr. Adams was daft on electrical +contrivances." + +"And as if we were prisoners here," supplemented the other. "I do not +see any means for drawing this slide back." + +"Oh, there's another button for that, of course," Mr. Gryce carelessly +remarked. + +But they failed to find one. + +"If you don't object," observed Mr. Gryce, after five minutes of useless +search, "I will turn a more cheerful light upon the scene. Yellow does +not seem to fit the occasion." + +"Give us rose, for unless you have some one on the other side of this +steel plate, we seem likely to remain here till morning." + +"There is a man upstairs whom we may perhaps make hear, but what does +this contrivance portend? It has a serious look to me, when you consider +that every window in these two rooms has been built up almost under the +roof." + +"Yes; a very strange look. But before engaging in its consideration I +should like a breath of fresh air. I cannot do anything while in +confinement. My brain won't work." + +Meanwhile Mr. Gryce was engaged in examining the huge plate of steel +which served as a barrier to their egress. He found that it had been +made--certainly at great expense--to fit the curve of the walls through +which it passed. This was a discovery of some consequence, causing Mr. +Gryce to grow still more thoughtful and to eye the smooth steel plate +under his hand with an air of marked distrust. + +"Mr. Adams carried his taste for the mechanical to great extremes," he +remarked to the slightly uneasy man beside him. "This slide is very +carefully fitted, and, if I am not mistaken, it will stand some +battering before we are released." + +"I wish that his interest in electricity had led him to attach such a +simple thing as a bell." + +"True, we have come across no bell." + +"It would have smacked too much of the ordinary to please him." + +"Besides, his only servant was deaf." + +"Try the effect of a blow, a quick blow with this silver-mounted +alpenstock. Some one should hear and come to our assistance." + +"I will try my whistle first; it will be better understood." + +But though Mr. Gryce both whistled and struck many a resounding knock +upon the barrier before them, it was an hour before he could draw the +attention of Styles, and five hours before an opening could be effected +in the wall large enough to admit of their escape, so firmly was this +barrier of steel fixed across the sole outlet from this remarkable room. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +FIVE SMALL SPANGLES. + + +Such an experience could not fail to emphasize Mr. Gryce's interest in +the case and heighten the determination he had formed to probe its +secrets and explain all its extraordinary features. Arrived at +Headquarters, where his presence was doubtless awaited with some anxiety +by those who knew nothing of the cause of his long detention, his first +act was to inquire if Bartow, the butler, had come to his senses during +the night. + +The answer was disappointing. Not only was there no change in his +condition, but the expert in lunacy who had been called in to pass upon +his case had expressed an opinion unfavorable to his immediate recovery. + +Mr. Gryce looked sober, and, summoning the officer who had managed +Bartow's arrest, he asked how the mute had acted when he found himself +detained. + +The answer was curt, but very much to the point. + +"Surprised, sir. Shook his head and made some queer gestures, then went +through his pantomime. It's quite a spectacle, sir. Poor fool, he keeps +holding his hand back, so." + +Mr. Gryce noted the gesture; it was the same which Bartow had made when +he first realized that he had spectators. Its meaning was not wholly +apparent. He had made it with his right hand (there was no evidence that +the mute was left-handed), and he continued to make it as if with this +movement he expected to call attention to some fact that would relieve +him from custody. + +"Does he mope? Is his expression one of fear or anger?" + +"It varies, sir. One minute he looks like a man on the point of falling +asleep; the next he starts up in fury, shaking his head and pounding the +walls. It's not a comfortable sight, sir. He will have to be watched +night and day." + +"Let him be, and note every change in him. His testimony may not be +valid, but there is suggestion in every movement he makes. To-morrow I +will visit him myself." + +The officer went out, and Mr. Gryce sat for a few moments communing with +himself, during which he took out a little package from his pocket, and +emptying out on his desk the five little spangles it contained, regarded +them intently. He had always been fond of looking at some small and +seemingly insignificant object while thinking. It served to concentrate +his thoughts, no doubt. At all events, some such result appeared to +follow the contemplation of these five sequins, for after shaking his +head doubtfully over them for a time, he made a sudden move, and +sweeping them into the envelope from which he had taken them, he gave a +glance at his watch and passed quickly into the outer office, where he +paused before a line of waiting men. Beckoning to one who had followed +his movements with an interest which had not escaped the eye of this old +reader of human nature, he led the way back to his own room. + +"You want a hand in this matter?" he said interrogatively, as the door +closed behind them and they found themselves alone. + +"Oh, sir--" began the young man in a glow which made his more than plain +features interesting to contemplate, "I do not presume----" + +"Enough!" interposed the other. "You have been here now for six months, +and have had no opportunity as yet for showing any special adaptability. +Now I propose to test your powers with something really difficult. Are +you up to it, Sweetwater? Do you know the city well enough to attempt to +find a needle in this very big haystack?" + +"I should at least like to try," was the eager response. "If I succeed +it will be a bigger feather in my cap than if I had always lived in New +York. I have been spoiling for some such opportunity. See if I don't +make the effort judiciously, if only out of gratitude." + +"Well, we shall see," remarked the old detective. "If it's difficulty +you long to encounter, you will be likely to have all you want of it. +Indeed, it is the impossible I ask. A woman is to be found of whom we +know nothing save that she wore when last seen a dress heavily +bespangled with black, and that she carried in her visit to Mr. Adams, +at the time of or before the murder, a parasol, of which I can procure +you a glimpse before you start out. She came from, I don't know where, +and she went--but that is what you are to find out. You are not the only +man who is to be put on the job, which, as you see, is next door to a +hopeless one, unless the woman comes forward and proclaims herself. +Indeed, I should despair utterly of your success if it were not for one +small fact which I will now proceed to give you as my special and +confidential agent in this matter. When this woman was about to +disappear from the one eye that was watching her, she approached the +curbstone in front of Hudson's fruit store on 14th Street and lifted up +her right hand, so. It is not much of a clew, but it is all I have at my +disposal, except these five spangles dropped from her dress, and my +conviction that she is not to be found among the questionable women of +the town, but among those who seldom or never come under the eye of the +police. Yet don't let this conviction hamper you. Convictions as a rule +are bad things, and act as a hindrance rather than an inspiration." + +Sweetwater, to whom the song of the sirens would have sounded less +sweet, listened with delight and responded with a frank smile and a gay: + +"I'll do my best, sir, but don't show me the parasol, only describe it. +I wouldn't like the fellows to chaff me if I fail; I'd rather go quietly +to work and raise no foolish expectations." + +"Well, then, it is one of those dainty, nonsensical things made of gray +chiffon, with pearl handle and bows of pink ribbon. I don't believe it +was ever used before, and from the value women usually place on such +fol-de-rols, could only have been left behind under the stress of +extraordinary emotion or fear. The name of the owner was not on it." + +"Nor that of the maker?" + +Mr. Gryce had expected this question, and was glad not to be +disappointed. + +"No, that would have helped us too much." + +"And the hour at which this lady was seen on the curbstone at Hudson's?" + +"Half-past four; the moment at which the telephone message arrived." + +"Very good, sir. It is the hardest task I have ever undertaken, but +that's not against it. When shall I see you again?" + +"When you have something to impart. Ah, wait a minute. I have my +suspicion that this woman's first name is Evelyn. But, mind, it is only +a suspicion." + +"All right, sir," and with an air of some confidence, the young man +disappeared. + +Mr. Gryce did not look as if he shared young Sweetwater's cheerfulness. +The mist surrounding this affair was as yet impenetrable to him. But +then he was not twenty-three, with only triumphant memories behind him. + +His next hope lay in the information likely to accrue from the published +accounts of this crime, now spread broadcast over the country. A man of +Mr. Adams's wealth and culture must necessarily have possessed many +acquaintances, whom the surprising news of his sudden death would +naturally bring to light, especially as no secret was made of his means +and many valuable effects. But as if this affair, destined to be one of +the last to engage the powers of this sagacious old man, refused on this +very account to yield any immediate results to his investigation, the +whole day passed by without the appearance of any claimant for Mr. +Adams's fortune or the arrival on the scene of any friend capable of +lifting the veil which shrouded the life of this strange being. To be +sure, his banker and his lawyer came forward during the day, but they +had little to reveal beyond the fact that his pecuniary affairs were in +good shape and that, so far as they knew, he was without family or kin. + +Even his landlord could add little to the general knowledge. He had +first heard of Mr. Adams through a Philadelphia lawyer, since dead, who +had assured him of his client's respectability and undoubted ability to +pay his rent. When they came together and Mr. Adams was introduced to +him, he had been struck, first, by the ascetic appearance of his +prospective tenant, and, secondly, by his reserved manners and quiet +intelligence. But admirable as he had found him, he had never succeeded +in making his acquaintance. The rent had been uniformly paid with great +exactitude on the very day it was due, but his own visits had never been +encouraged or his advances met by anything but the cold politeness of a +polished and totally indifferent man. Indeed, he had always looked upon +his tenant as a bookworm, absorbed in study and such scientific +experiments as could be carried on with no other assistance than that of +his deaf and dumb servant. + +Asked if he knew anything about this servant, he answered that his +acquaintance with him was limited to the two occasions on which he had +been ushered by him into his master's presence; that he knew nothing of +his character and general disposition, and could not say whether his +attitude toward his master had been one of allegiance or antagonism. + +And so the way was blocked in this direction. + +Taken into the room where Mr. Adams had died, he surveyed in amazement +the huge steel plate which still blocked the doorway, and the high +windows through which only a few straggling sunbeams could find their +way. + +Pointing to the windows, he remarked: + +"These were filled in at Mr. Adams's request. Originally they extended +down to the wainscoting." + +He was shown where lath and plaster had been introduced and also how the +plate had been prepared and arranged as a barrier. But he could give no +explanation of it or divine the purpose for which it had been placed +there at so great an expense. + +The lamp was another curiosity, and its varying lights the cause of +increased astonishment. Indeed he had known nothing of these +arrangements, having been received in the parlor when he visited the +house, where there was nothing to attract his attention or emphasize the +well-known oddities of his tenant. + +He was not shown the starling. That loquacious bird had been removed to +police headquarters for the special delectation of Mr. Gryce. + +Other inquiries failed also. No clew to the owner of the insignia found +on the wall could be gained at the pension office or at any of the G. A. +R. posts inside the city. Nor was the name of the artist who had painted +the portrait which adorned so large a portion of the wall a recognized +one in New York City. Otherwise a clew might have been obtained through +him to Mr. Adams's antecedents. All the drawers and receptacles in Mr. +Adams's study had been searched, but no will had been found nor any +business documents. It was as if this strange man had sought to suppress +his identity, or, rather, as if he had outgrown all interest in his kind +or in anything beyond the walls within which he had immured himself. + +Late in the afternoon reports began to come in from the various +tradesmen with whom Mr. Adams had done business. They all had something +to say as to the peculiarity of his habits and the freaks of his mute +servant. They were both described as hermits, differing from the rest of +their kind only in that they denied themselves no reasonable luxury and +seemed to have adopted a shut-in life from a pure love of seclusion. The +master was never seen at the stores. It was the servant who made the +purchases, and this by means of gestures which were often strangely +significant. Indeed, he seemed to have great power of expressing himself +by looks and actions, and rarely caused a mistake or made one. He would +not endure cheating, and always bought the best. + +Of his sanity up to the day of his master's death there was no question; +but more than one man with whom he had had dealings was ready to testify +that there had been a change in his manner for the past few weeks--a +sort of subdued excitement, quite unlike his former methodical bearing. +He had shown an inclination to testiness, and was less easily pleased +than formerly. To one clerk he had shown a nasty spirit under very +slight provocation, and was only endured in the store on account of his +master, who was too good a customer for them to offend. Mr. Kelly, a +grocer, went so far as to say he acted like a man with a grievance who +burned to vent his spite on some one, but held himself in forcible +restraint. + +Perhaps if no tragedy had taken place in the house on ---- Street these +various persons would not have been so ready to interpret thus +unfavorably a nervousness excusable enough in one so cut off from all +communication with his kind. But with the violent end of his master in +view, and his own unexplained connection with it, who could help +recalling that his glance had frequently shown malevolence? + +But this was not evidence of the decided character required by the law, +and Mr. Gryce was about to regard the day as a lost one, when Sweetwater +made his reappearance at Headquarters. The expression of his face put +new life into Mr. Gryce. + +"What!" he cried, "you have not found her?" + +Sweetwater smiled. "Don't ask me, sir, not yet. I've come to see if +there's any reason why I should not be given the loan of that parasol +for about an hour. I'll bring it back. I only want to make a certain +test with it." + +"What test, my boy? May I ask, what test?" + +"Please to excuse me, sir; I have only a short time in which to act +before respectable business houses shut up for the night, and the test I +speak of has to be made in a respectable house." + +"Then you shall not be hindered. Wait here, and I will bring you the +parasol. There! bring it back soon, my boy. I have not the patience I +used to have." + +"An hour, sir; give me an hour, and then----" + +The shutting of the door behind his flying figure cut short his +sentence. + +That was a long hour to Mr. Gryce, or would have been if it had not +mercifully been cut short by the return of Sweetwater in an even more +excited state of mind than he had been before. He held the parasol in +his hand. + +"My test failed," said he, "but the parasol has brought me luck, +notwithstanding. I have found the lady, sir, and----" + +He had to draw a long breath before proceeding. + +"And she is what I said," began the detective; "a respectable person in +a respectable house." + +"Yes, sir; very respectable, more respectable than I expected to see. +Quite a lady, sir. Not young, but----" + +"Her name, boy. Is it--Evelyn?" + +Sweetwater shook his head with a look as naive in its way as the old +detective's question. + +"I cannot say, sir. Indeed, I had not the courage to ask. She is +here----" + +"Here!" Mr. Gryce took one hurried step toward the door, then came +gravely back. "I can restrain myself," he said. "If she is here, she +will not go till I have seen her. Are you sure you have made no mistake; +that she is the woman we are after; the woman who was in Mr. Adams's +house and sent us the warning?" + +"Will you hear my story, sir? It will take only a moment. Then you can +judge for yourself." + +"Your story? It must be a pretty one. How came you to light on this +woman so soon? By using the clew I gave you?" + +Again Sweetwater's expression took on a touch of naivete. + +"I'm sorry, sir; but I was egotistical enough to follow my own idea. It +would have taken too much time to hunt up all the drivers of hacks in +the city, and I could not even be sure she had made use of a public +conveyance. No, sir; I bethought me of another way by which I might +reach this woman. You had shown me those spangles. They were portions of +a very rich trimming; a trimming which has only lately come into vogue, +and which is so expensive that it is worn chiefly by women of means, and +sold only in shops where elaborate garnitures are to be found. I have +seen and noticed dresses thus trimmed, in certain windows and on certain +ladies; and before you showed me the spangles you picked up in Mr. +Adams's study could have told you just how I had seen them arranged. +They are sewed on black net, in figures, sir; in scrolls or wreaths or +whatever you choose to call them; and so conspicuous are these wreaths +or figures, owing to the brilliance of the spangles composing them, that +any break in their continuity is plainly apparent, especially if the net +be worn over a color, as is frequently the case. Remembering this, and +recalling the fact that these spangles doubtless fell from one of the +front breadths, where their loss would attract not only the attention of +others, but that of the wearer, I said to myself, 'What will she be +likely to do when she finds her dress thus disfigured?' And the answer +at once came: 'If she is the lady Mr. Gryce considers her, she will seek +to restore these missing spangles, especially if they were lost on a +scene of crime. But where can she get them to sew on? From an extra +piece of net of the same style. But she will not be apt to have an extra +piece of net. She will, therefore, find herself obliged to buy it, and +since only a few spangles are lacking, she will buy the veriest strip.' +Here, then, was my clew, or at least my ground for action. Going the +rounds of the few leading stores on Broadway, 23d Street, and Sixth +Avenue, I succeeded in getting certain clerks interested in my efforts, +so that I speedily became assured that if a lady came into these stores +for a very small portion of this bespangled net, they would note her +person and, if possible, procure some clew to her address. Then I took +up my stand at Arnold's emporium. Why Arnold's? I do not know. Perhaps +my good genius meant me to be successful in this quest; but whether +through luck or what not, I was successful, for before the afternoon was +half over, I encountered a meaning glance from one of the men behind the +counter, and advancing toward him, saw him rolling a small package which +he handed over to a very pretty and rosy young girl, who at once walked +away with it. 'For one of our leading customers,' he whispered, as I +drew nearer. 'I don't think she is the person you want.' But I would +take no chances. I followed the young girl who had carried away the +parcel, and by this means came to a fine brownstone front in one of our +most retired and aristocratic quarters. When I had seen her go in at the +basement door, I rang the bell above, and then--well, I just bit my lips +to keep down my growing excitement. For such an effort as this might +well end in disappointment, and I knew if I were disappointed now--But +no such trial awaited me. The maid who came to the door proved to be the +same merry-eyed lass I had seen leave the store. Indeed, she had the +identical parcel in her hand which was the connecting link between the +imposing house at whose door I stood and the strange murder in ---- +Street. But I did not allow my interest in this parcel to become +apparent, and by the time I addressed her I had so mastered myself as to +arouse no suspicion of the importance of my errand. You, of course, +foresee the question I put to the young girl. 'Has your mistress lost a +parasol? One has been found--' I did not finish the sentence, for I +perceived by her look that her mistress had met with such a loss, and as +this was all I wanted to know just then, I cried out, 'I will bring it. +If it is hers, all right,' and bounded down the steps. + +"My intention was to inform you of what I had done and ask your advice. +But my egotism got the better of me. I felt that I ought to make sure +that I was not the victim of a coincidence. Such a respectable house! +Such a respectable maidservant! Should she recognize the parasol as +belonging to her mistress, then, indeed, I might boast of my success. So +praying you for a loan of this article, I went back and rang the bell +again. The same girl came to the door. I think fortune favored me +to-day. 'Here is the parasol,' said I, but before the words were out of +my mouth I saw that the girl had taken the alarm or that some grievous +mistake had been made. 'That is not the one my mistress lost,' said she. +'She never carries anything but black.' And the door was about to close +between us when I heard a voice from within call out peremptorily: 'Let +me see that parasol. Hold it up, young man. There! at the foot of the +stairs. Ah!' + +"If ever an exclamation was eloquent that simple 'ah!' was. I could not +see the speaker, but I knew she was leaning over the banisters from the +landing above. I listened to hear her glide away. But she did not move. +She was evidently collecting herself for the emergency of the moment. +Presently she spoke again, and I was astonished at her tone: 'You have +come from Police Headquarters,' was the remark with which she hailed me. + +"I lowered the parasol. I did not think it necessary to say yes. + +"'From a man there, called Gryce,' she went on, still in that strange +tone I can hardly describe, sir. + +"'Since you ask me,' I now replied, 'I acknowledge that it is through +his instructions I am here. He was anxious to restore to you your lost +property. Is not this parasol yours? Shall I not leave it with this +young girl?' + +"The answer was dry, almost rasping: 'Mr. Gryce has made a mistake. The +parasol is not mine; yet he certainly deserves credit for the use he has +made of it, in this search. I should like to tell him so. Is he at his +office, and do you think I would be received?' + +"'He would be delighted,' I returned, not imagining she was in earnest. +But she was, sir. In less time than you would believe, I perceived a +very stately, almost severe, lady descend the stairs. She was dressed +for the street, and spoke to me with quite an air of command. 'Have you +a cab?' she asked. + +"'No,' said I. + +"'Then get one.' + +"Here was a dilemma. Should I leave her and thus give her an opportunity +to escape, or should I trust to her integrity and the honesty of her +look, which was no common one, sir, and obey her as every one about her +was evidently accustomed to do? + +"I concluded to trust to her integrity, and went for the cab. But it was +a risk, sir, which I promise not to repeat in the future. She was +awaiting me on the stoop when I got back, and at once entered the hack +with a command to drive immediately to Police Headquarters. I saw her as +I came in just now sitting in the outer office, waiting for you. Are you +ready to say I have done well?" + +Mr. Gryce, with an indescribable look of mingled envy and indulgence, +pressed the hand held out to him, and passed out. His curiosity could be +restrained no longer, and he went at once to where this mysterious woman +was awaiting him. Did he think it odd that she knew him, that she sought +him? If so, he did not betray this in his manner, which was one of great +respect. But that manner suddenly changed as he came face to face with +the lady in question. Not that it lost its respect, but that it betrayed +an astonishment of a more pronounced character than was usually indulged +in by this experienced detective. The lady before him was one well known +to him; in fact, almost an associate of his in certain bygone matters; +in other words, none other than that most reputable of ladies, Miss +Amelia Butterworth of Gramercy Park. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +SUGGESTIONS FROM AN OLD FRIEND. + + +The look with which this amiable spinster met his eye was one which a +stranger would have found it hard to understand. He found it hard to +understand himself, perhaps because he had never before seen this lady +when she was laboring under an opinion of herself that was not one of +perfect complacency. + +"Miss Butterworth! What does this mean? Have you----" + +"There!" The word came with some sharpness. "You have detected me at my +old tricks, and I am correspondingly ashamed, and you triumphant. The +gray parasol you have been good enough to send to my house is not mine, +but I was in the room where you picked it up, as you have so cleverly +concluded, and as it is useless for me to evade your perspicacity, I +have come here to confess." + +"Ah!" The detective was profoundly interested at once. He drew a chair +up to Miss Butterworth's side and sat down. "You were there!" he +repeated; "and when? I do not presume to ask for what purpose." + +"But I shall have to explain my purpose not to find myself at too great +a disadvantage," she replied with grim decision. "Not that I like to +display my own weakness, but that I recognize the exigencies of the +occasion, and fully appreciate your surprise at finding that I, a +stranger to Mr. Adams, and without the excuse which led to my former +interference in police matters, should have so far forgotten myself as +to be in my present position before you. This was no affair of my +immediate neighbor, nor did it seek me. I sought it, sir, and in this +way. I wish I had gone to Jericho first; it might have meant longer +travel and much more expense; but it would have involved me in less +humiliation and possible publicity. Mr. Gryce, I never meant to be mixed +up with another murder case. I have shown my aptitude for detective work +and received, ere now, certain marks of your approval; but my head was +not turned by them--at least I thought not--and I was tolerably sincere +in my determination to keep to my own _metier_ in future and not suffer +myself to be allured by any inducements you might offer into the +exercise of gifts which may have brought me praise in the past, but +certainly have not brought me happiness. But the temptation came, not +through you, or I might have resisted it, but through a combination of +circumstances which found me weak, and, in a measure, unprepared. In +other words, I was surprised into taking an interest in this affair. Oh, +I am ashamed of it, so ashamed that I have made the greatest endeavor to +hide my participation in the matter, and thinking I had succeeded in +doing so, was congratulating myself upon my precautions, when I found +that parasol thrust in my face and realized that you, if no one else, +knew that Amelia Butterworth had been in Mr. Adams's room of death prior +to yourself. Yet I thought I had left no traces behind me. Could you +have seen----" + +"Miss Butterworth, you dropped five small spangles from your robe. You +wore a dress spangled with black sequins, did you not? Besides, you +moved the inkstand, and--Well, I will never put faith in circumstantial +evidence again. I saw these tokens of a woman's presence, heard what the +boy had to say of the well-dressed lady who had sent him into the +drug-store with a message to the police, and drew the conclusion--I may +admit it to you--that it was this woman who had wielded the assassin's +dagger, and not the deaf-and-dumb butler, who, until now, has borne the +blame of it. Therefore I was anxious to find her, little realizing what +would be the result of my efforts, or that I should have to proffer her +my most humble apologies." + +"Do not apologize to me. I had no business to be there, or, at least, to +leave the five spangles you speak of, behind me on Mr. Adams's miserable +floor. I was simply passing by the house; and had I been the woman I +once was, that is, a woman who had never dipped into a mystery, I should +have continued on my way, instead of turning aside. Sir, it's a curious +sensation to find yourself, however innocent, regarded by a whole city +full of people as the cause or motive of a terrible murder, especially +when you have spent some time, as I have, in the study of crime and the +pursuit of criminals. I own I don't enjoy the experience. But I have +brought it on myself. If I had not been so curious--But it was not +curiosity I felt. I will never own that I am subject to mere curiosity; +it was the look on the young man's face. But I forget myself. I am +rambling in all directions when I ought to be telling a consecutive +tale. Not my usual habit, sir; this you know; but I am not quite myself +at this moment. I declare I am more upset by this discovery of my +indiscretion than I was by Mr. Trohm's declaration of affection in Lost +Man's Lane! Give me time, Mr. Gryce; in a few minutes I will be more +coherent." + +"I am giving you time," he returned with one of his lowest bows. "The +half-dozen questions I long to ask have not yet left my lips, and I sit +here, as you must yourself acknowledge, a monument of patience." + +"So you thought this deed perpetrated by an outsider," she suddenly +broke in. "Most of the journals--I read them very carefully this +morning--ascribed the crime to the man you have mentioned. And there +seems to be good reason for doing so. The case is not a simple one, Mr. +Gryce; it has complications--I recognized that at once, and that is +why--but I won't waste another moment in apologies. You have a right to +any little fact I may have picked up in my unfortunate visit, and there +is one which I failed to find included in any account of the murder. Mr. +Adams had other visitors besides myself in those few fatal minutes +preceding his death. A young man and woman were with him. I saw them +come out of the house. It was at the moment I was passing----" + +"Tell your story more simply, Miss Butterworth. What first drew your +attention to the house?" + +"There! That is the second time you have had to remind me to be more +direct. You will not have to do so again, Mr. Gryce. To begin, then, I +noticed the house, because I always notice it. I never pass it without +giving a thought to its ancient history and indulging in more or less +speculation as to its present inmates. When, therefore, I found myself +in front of it yesterday afternoon on my way to the art exhibition, I +naturally looked up, and--whether by an act of providence or not, I +cannot say--it was precisely at that instant the inner door of the +vestibule burst open, and a young man appeared in the hall, carrying a +young woman in his arms. He seemed to be in a state of intense +excitement, and she in a dead faint; but before they had attracted the +attention of the crowd, he had placed her on her feet, and, taking her +on his arm, dragged her down the stoop and into the crowd of passers-by, +among whom they presently disappeared. I, as you may believe, stood +rooted to the ground in my astonishment, and not only endeavored to see +in what direction they went, but lingered long enough to take a peep +into the time-honored interior of this old house, which had been left +open to view by the young man's forgetting to close the front door +behind him. As I did so, I heard a cry from within. It was muffled and +remote, but unmistakably one of terror and anguish: and, led by an +impulse I may live to regret, as it seems likely to plunge me into much +unpleasantness, I rushed up the stoop and went in, shutting the door +behind me, lest others should be induced to follow. + +"So far, I had acted solely from instinct; but once in that semi-dark +hall, I paused and asked what business I had there, and what excuse I +should give for my intrusion if I encountered one or more of the +occupants of the house. But a repetition of the cry, coming as I am +ready to swear from the farthest room on the parlor floor, together with +a sharp remembrance of the wandering eye and drawn countenance of the +young man whom I had seen stagger hence a moment before, with an almost +fainting woman in his arms, drew me on in spite of my feminine +instincts; and before I knew it, I was in the circular study and before +the prostrate form of a seemingly dying man. He was lying as you +probably found him a little later, with the cross on his breast and a +dagger in his heart; but his right hand was trembling, and when I +stooped to lift his head, he gave a shudder and then settled into +eternal stillness. I, a stranger from the street, had witnessed his last +breath while the young man who had gone out----" + +"Can you describe him? Did you encounter him close enough for +recognition?" + +"Yes, I think I would know him again. I can at least describe his +appearance. He wore a checked suit, very natty, and was more than +usually tall and fine-looking. But his chief peculiarity lay in his +expression. I never saw on any face, no, not on the stage, at the climax +of the most heart-rending tragedy, a greater accumulation of mortal +passion struggling with the imperative necessity for restraint. The +young girl whose blond head lay on his shoulder looked like a saint in +the clutch of a demon. She had seen death, but he--But I prefer not to +be the interpreter of that expressive countenance. It was lost to my +view almost immediately, and probably calmed itself in the face of the +throng he entered, or we would be hearing about him to-day. The girl +seemed to be devoid of almost all feeling. I should not remember her." + +"And was that all? Did you just look at that recumbent man and vanish? +Didn't you encounter the butler? Haven't you some definite knowledge to +impart in his regard which will settle his innocence or fix his guilt?" + +"I know no more about him than you do, sir, except that he was not in +the room by the time I reached it, and did not come into it during my +presence there. Yet it was his cry that led me to the spot; or do you +think it was that of the bird I afterward heard shouting and screaming +in the cage over the dead man's head?" + +"It might have been the bird," admitted Mr. Gryce. "Its call is very +clear, and it seems strangely intelligent. What was it saying while you +stood there?" + +"Something about Eva. 'Lovely Eva, maddening Eva! I love Eva! Eva! +Eva!'" + +"Eva? Wasn't it 'Evelyn? Poor Evelyn?'" + +"No, it was Eva. I thought he might mean the girl I had just seen +carried out. It was an unpleasant experience, hearing this bird shriek +out these cries in the face of the man lying dead at my feet." + +"Miss Butterworth, you didn't simply stand over that man. You knelt down +and looked in his face." + +"I acknowledge it, and caught my dress in the filagree of the cross. +Naturally I would not stand stock still with a man drawing his last +breath under my eye." + +"And what else did you do? You went to the table----" + +"Yes, I went to the table." + +"And moved the inkstand?" + +"Yes, I moved the inkstand, but very carefully, sir, very carefully." + +"Not so carefully but that I could see where it had been sitting before +you took it up: the square made by its base in the dust of the table did +not coincide with the place afterwards occupied by it." + +"Ah, that comes from your having on your glasses and I not. I endeavored +to set it down in the precise place from which I lifted it." + +"Why did you take it up at all? What were you looking for?" + +"For clews, Mr. Gryce. You must forgive me, but I was seeking for clews. +I moved several things. I was hunting for the line of writing which +ought to explain this murder." + +"The line of writing?" + +"Yes. I have not told you what the young girl said as she slipped with +her companion into the crowd." + +"No; you have spoken of no words. Have you any such clew as that? Miss +Butterworth, you are fortunate, very fortunate." + +Mr. Gryce's look and gesture were eloquent, but Miss Butterworth, with +an access of dignity, quietly remarked: + +"I was not to blame for being in the way when they passed, nor could I +help hearing what she said." + +"And what was it, madam? Did she mention a paper?" + +"Yes, she cried in what I now remember to have been a tone of affright: +'You have left that line of writing behind!' I did not attach much +importance to these words then, but when I came upon the dying man, so +evidently the victim of murder, I recalled what his late visitor had +said and looked about for this piece of writing." + +"And did you find it, Miss Butterworth? I am ready, as you see, for any +revelation you may now make." + +"For one which would reflect dishonor on me? If I had found any paper +explaining this tragedy, I should have felt bound to have called the +attention of the police to it. I did notify them of the crime itself." + +"Yes, madam; and we are obliged to you; but how about your silence in +regard to the fact of two persons having left that house immediately +upon, or just preceding, the death of its master?" + +"I reserved that bit of information. I waited to see if the police would +not get wind of these people without my help. I sincerely wished to keep +my name out of this inquiry. Yet I feel a decided relief now that I have +made my confession. I never could have rested properly after seeing so +much, and----" + +"Well?" + +"Thinking my own thoughts in regard to what I saw, if I had found myself +compelled to bridle my tongue while false scents were being followed and +delicate clews overlooked or discarded without proper attention. I +regard this murder as offering the most difficult problem that has ever +come in my way, and, therefore----" + +"Yes, madam." + +"I cannot but wonder if an opportunity has been afforded me for +retrieving myself in your eyes. I do not care for the opinion of any one +else as to my ability or discretion; but I should like to make you +forget my last despicable failure in Lost Man's Lane. It is a sore +remembrance to me, Mr. Gryce, which nothing but a fresh success can make +me forget." + +"Madam, I understand you. You have formulated some theory. You consider +the young man with the tell-tale face guilty of Mr. Adams's death. Well, +it is very possible. I never thought the butler was rehearsing a crime +he had himself committed." + +"Do you know who the young man is I saw leaving that house so +hurriedly?" + +"Not the least in the world. You are the first to bring him to my +attention." + +"And the young girl with the blonde hair?" + +"It is the first I have heard of her, too." + +"I did not scatter the rose leaves that were found on that floor." + +"No, it was she. She probably wore a bouquet in her belt." + +"Nor was that frippery parasol mine, though I did lose a good, stout, +serviceable one somewhere that day." + +"It was hers; I have no doubt of it." + +"Left by her in the little room where she was whiling away the time +during which the gentlemen conversed together, possibly about that bit +of writing she afterward alluded to." + +"Certainly." + +"Her mind was not expectant of evil, for she was smoothing her hair when +the shock came----" + +"Yes, madam, I follow you." + +"And had to be carried out of the place after----" + +"What?" + +"She had placed that cross on Mr. Adams's breast. That was a woman's +act, Mr. Gryce." + +"I am glad to hear you say so. The placing of that cross on a layman's +breast was a mystery to me, and is still, I must own. Great remorse or +great fright only can account for it." + +"You will find many mysteries in this case, Mr. Gryce." + +"As great a number as I ever encountered." + +"I have to add one." + +"Another?" + +"It concerns the old butler." + +"I thought you did not see him." + +"I did not see him in the room where Mr. Adams lay." + +"Ah! Where, then?" + +"Upstairs. My interest was not confined to the scene of the murder. +Wishing to spread the alarm, and not being able to rouse any one below, +I crept upstairs, and so came upon this poor wretch going through the +significant pantomime that has been so vividly described in the papers." + +"Ah! Unpleasant for you, very. I imagine you did not stop to talk to +him." + +"No, I fled. I was extremely shaken up by this time and knew only one +thing to do, and that was to escape. But I carried one as yet unsolved +enigma with me. How came I to hear this man's cries in Mr. Adams's +study, and yet find him on the second floor when I came to search the +house? He had not time to mount the stairs while I was passing down the +hall." + +"It is a case of mistaken impression. Your ears played you false. The +cries came from above, not from Mr. Adams's study." + +"My ears are not accustomed to play me tricks. You must seek another +explanation." + +"I have ransacked the house; there are no back stairs." + +"If there were, the study does not communicate with them." + +"And you heard his voice in the study?" + +"Plainly." + +"Well, you have given me a poser, madam." + +"And I will give you another. If he was the perpetrator of this crime, +how comes it that he was not detected and denounced by the young people +I saw going out? If, on the contrary, he was simply the witness of +another man's blow--a blow which horrified him so much that it unseated +his reason--how comes it that he was able to slide away from the door +where he must have stood without attracting the attention and bringing +down upon himself the vengeance of the guilty murderer?" + +"He may be one of the noiseless kind, or, rather, may have been such +before this shock unsettled his mind." + +"True, but he would have been seen. Recall the position of the doorway. +If Mr. Adams fell where he was struck, the assailant must have had that +door directly before him. He could not have helped seeing any one +standing in it." + +"That is true; your observations are quite correct. But those young +people were in a disordered state of mind. The condition in which they +issued from the house proves this. They probably did not trouble +themselves about this man. Escape was all they sought. And, you see, +they did escape." + +"But you will find them. A man who can locate a woman in this great city +of ours with no other clew than five spangles, dropped from her gown, +will certainly make this parasol tell the name of its owner." + +"Ah, madam, the credit of this feat is not due to me. It was the initial +stroke of a young man I propose to adopt into my home and heart; the +same who brought you here to-night. Not much to look at, madam, but +promising, very promising. But I doubt if even he can discover the young +lady you mean, with no other aid than is given by this parasol. New York +is a big place, ma'am, a big place. Do you know how Sweetwater came to +find you? Through your virtues, ma'am; through your neat and methodical +habits. Had you been of a careless turn of mind and not given to mending +your dresses when you tore them, he might have worn his heart out in a +vain search for the lady who had dropped the five spangles in Mr. +Adams's study. Now luck, or, rather, your own commendable habit, was in +his favor this time; but in the prospective search you mentioned, he +will probably have no such assistance." + +"Nor will he need it. I have unbounded faith in your genius, which, +after all, is back of the skilfulness of this new pupil of yours. You +will discover by some means the lady with the dove-colored plumes, and +through her the young gentleman who accompanied her." + +"We shall at least put our energies to work in that direction. +Sweetwater may have an idea----" + +"And I may have one." + +"You?" + +"Yes; I indulged in but little sleep last night. That dreadful room with +its unsolved mystery was ever before me. Thoughts would come; +possibilities would suggest themselves. I imagined myself probing its +secrets to the bottom and----" + +"Wait, madam; how many of its so-called secrets do you know? You said +nothing about the lantern." + +"It was burning with a red light when I entered." + +"You did not touch the buttons arranged along the table top?" + +"No; if there is one thing I do not touch, it is anything which suggests +an electrical contrivance. I am intensely feminine, sir, in all my +instincts, and mechanisms of any kind alarm me. To all such things I +give a wide berth. I have not even a telephone in my house. Some +allowance must be made for the natural timidity of woman." + +Mr. Gryce suppressed a smile. "It is a pity," he remarked. "Had you +brought another light upon the scene, you might have been blessed with +an idea on a subject that is as puzzling as any connected with the whole +affair." + +"You have not heard what I have to say on a still more important +matter," said she. "When we have exhausted the one topic, we may both +feel like turning on the fresh lights you speak of. Mr. Gryce, on what +does this mystery hinge? On the bit of writing which these young people +were so alarmed at having left behind them." + +"Ah! It is from that you would work! Well, it is a good point to start +from. But we have found no such bit of writing." + +"Have you searched for it? You did not know till now that any importance +might be attached to a morsel of paper with some half-dozen words +written on it." + +"True, but a detective searches just the same. We ransacked that room as +few rooms have been ransacked in years. Not for a known clew, but for an +unknown one. It seemed necessary in the first place to learn who this +man was. His papers were consequently examined. But they told nothing. +If there had been a scrap of writing within view or in his desk----" + +"It was not on his person? You had his pockets searched, his +clothes----" + +"A man who has died from violence is always searched, madam. I leave no +stone unturned in a mysterious case like this." + +Miss Butterworth's face assumed an indefinable expression of +satisfaction, which did not escape Mr. Gryce's eye, though that member +was fixed, according to his old habit, on the miniature of her father +which she wore, in defiance of fashion, at her throat. + +"I wonder," said she, in a musing tone, "if I imagined or really saw on +Mr. Adams's face a most extraordinary expression; something more than +the surprise or anguish following a mortal blow? A look of +determination, arguing some superhuman resolve taken at the moment of +death, or--can you read that face for me? Or did you fail to perceive +aught of what I say? It would really be an aid to me at this moment to +know." + +"I noted that look. It was not a common one. But I cannot read it for +you----" + +"I wonder if the young man you call Sweetwater can. I certainly think it +has a decided bearing on this mystery; such a fold to the lips, such a +look of mingled grief and--what was that you said? Sweetwater has not +been admitted to the room of death? Well, well, I shall have to make my +own suggestion, then. I shall have to part with an idea that may be +totally valueless, but which has impressed me so that it must out, if I +am to have any peace to-night. Mr. Gryce, allow me to whisper in your +ear. Some things lose force when spoken aloud." + +And leaning forward, she breathed a short sentence into his ear which +made him start and regard her with an amazement which rapidly grew into +admiration. + +"Madam!" he cried, rising up that he might the better honor her with one +of his low bows, "your idea, whether valueless or not, is one which is +worthy of the acute lady who proffers it. We will act on it, ma'am, act +at once. Wait till I have given my orders. I will not keep you long." + +And with another bow, he left the room. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +AMOS'S SON. + + +Miss Butterworth had been brought up in a strict school of manners. When +she sat, she sat still; when she moved, she moved quickly, firmly, but +with no unnecessary disturbance. Fidgets were unknown to her. Yet when +she found herself alone after this interview, it was with difficulty she +could restrain herself from indulging in some of those outward +manifestations of uneasiness which she had all her life reprobated in +the more nervous members of her own sex. She was anxious, and she showed +it, like the sensible woman she was, and was glad enough when Mr. Gryce +finally returned and, accosting her with a smile, said almost gayly: + +"Well, that is seen to! And all we have to do now is to await the +result. Madam, have you any further ideas? If so, I should be glad to +have the benefit of them." + +Her self-possession was at once restored. + +"You would?" she repeated, eying him somewhat doubtfully. "I should like +to be assured of the value of the one I have already advanced, before I +venture upon another. Let us enter into a conference instead; compare +notes; tell, for instance, why neither of us look on Bartow as the +guilty man." + +"I thought we had exhausted that topic. Your suspicions were aroused by +the young couple you saw leaving the house, while mine--well, madam, to +you, at least, I may admit that there is something in the mute's +gestures and general manner which conveys to my mind the impression that +he is engaged in rehearsing something he has seen, rather than something +he has done; and as yet I have seen no reason for doubting the truth of +this impression." + +"I was affected in the same way, and would have been, even if I had not +already had my suspicions turned in another direction. Besides, it is +more natural for a man to be driven insane by another's act than by his +own." + +"Yes, if he loved the victim." + +"And did not Bartow?" + +"He does not mourn Mr. Adams." + +"But he is no longer master of his emotions." + +"Very true; but if we take any of his actions as a clew to the +situation, we must take all. We believe from his gestures that he is +giving us a literal copy of acts he has seen performed. Then, why pass +over the gleam of infernal joy that lights his face after the whole is +over? It is as if he rejoiced over the deed, or at least found +immeasurable satisfaction in it." + +"Perhaps it is still a copy of what he saw; the murderer may have +rejoiced. But no, there was no joy in the face of the young man I saw +rushing away from this scene of violence. Quite the contrary. Mr. Gryce, +we are in deep waters. I feel myself wellnigh submerged by them." + +"Hold up your head, madam. Every flood has its ebb. If you allow +yourself to go under, what will become of me?" + +"You are disposed to humor, Mr. Gryce. It is a good sign. You are never +humorous when perplexed. Somewhere you must see daylight." + +"Let us proceed with our argument. Illumination frequently comes from +the most unexpected quarter." + +"Very well, then, let us put the old man's joy down as one of the +mysteries to be explained later. Have you thought of him as a possible +accomplice?" + +"Certainly; but this supposition is open to the same objection as that +which made him the motive power in this murder. One is not driven insane +by an expected horror. It takes shock to unsettle the brain. He was not +looking for the death of his master." + +"True. We may consider that matter as settled. Bartow was an innocent +witness of this crime, and, having nothing to fear, may be trusted to +reproduce in his pantomimic action its exact features." + +"Very good. Continue, madam. Nothing but profit is likely to follow an +argument presented by Miss Butterworth." + +The old detective's tone was serious, his manner perfect; but Miss +Butterworth, ever on the look-out for sarcasm from his lips, bridled a +little, though in no other way did she show her displeasure. + +"Let us, then, recall his precise gestures, remembering that he must +have surprised the assailant from the study doorway, and so have seen +the assault from over his master's shoulder." + +"In other words, directly in front of him. Now what was his first move?" + +"His first move, as now seen, is to raise his right arm and stretch it +behind him, while he leans forward for the imaginary dagger. What does +that mean?" + +"I should find it hard to say. But I did not see him do that. When I +came upon him, he was thrusting with his left hand across his own +body--a vicious thrust and with his left hand. That is a point, Mr. +Gryce." + +"Yes, especially as the doctors agree that Mr. Adams was killed by a +left-handed blow." + +"You don't say! Don't you see the difficulty, then?" + +"The difficulty, madam?" + +"Bartow was standing face to face with the assailant. In imitating him, +especially in his unreasoning state of mind, he would lift the arm +opposite to the one whose action he mimics, which, in this case, would +be the assailant's right. Try, for the moment, to mimic my actions. See! +I lift this hand, and instinctively (nay, I detected the movement, sir, +quickly as you remembered yourself), you raise the one directly opposite +to it. It is like seeing yourself in a mirror. You turn your head to the +right, but your image turns to the left." + +Mr. Gryce's laugh rang out in spite of himself. He was not often caught +napping, but this woman exercised a species of fascination upon him at +times, and it rather amused than offended him, when he was obliged to +acknowledge himself defeated. + +"Very good! You have proved your point quite satisfactorily; but what +conclusions are to be drawn from it? That the man was not left-handed, +or that he was not standing in the place you have assigned to him?" + +"Shall we go against the doctors? They say that the blow was a +left-handed one. Mr. Gryce, I would give anything for an hour spent with +you in Mr. Adams's study, with Bartow free to move about at his will. I +think we would learn more by watching him for a short space of time than +in talking as we are doing for an hour." + +It was said tentatively, almost timidly. Miss Butterworth had some sense +of the temerity involved in this suggestion even if, according to her +own declaration, she had no curiosity. "I don't want to be +disagreeable," she smiled. + +She was so far from being so that Mr. Gryce was taken unawares, and for +once in his life became impulsive. + +"I think it can be managed, madam; that is, after the funeral. There are +too many officials now in the house, and----" + +"Of course, of course," she acceded. "I should not think of obtruding +myself at present. But the case is so interesting, and my connection +with it so peculiar, that I sometimes forget myself. Do you think"--here +she became quite nervous for one of her marked self-control--"that I +have laid myself open to a summons from the coroner?" + +Mr. Gryce grew thoughtful, eyed the good lady, or rather her folded +hands, with an air of some compassion, and finally replied: + +"The facts regarding this affair come in so slowly that I doubt if the +inquest is held for several days. Meanwhile we may light on those two +young people ourselves. If so, the coroner may _overlook_ your share in +bringing them to our notice." + +There was a sly emphasis on the word, and a subtle humor in his look +that showed the old detective at his worst. But Miss Butterworth did not +resent it; she was too full of a fresh confession she had to make. + +"Ah," said she, "if they had been the only persons I encountered there. +But they were not. Another person entered the house before I left it, +and I may be obliged to speak of him." + +"Of him? Really, madam, you are a mine of intelligence." + +"Yes, sir," was the meek reply; meek, when you consider from whose lips +it came. "I ought to have spoken of him before, but I never like to mix +matters, and this old gentleman----" + +"Old gentleman!" + +"Yes, sir, very old and very much of a gentleman, did not appear to have +any connection with the crime beyond knowing the murdered man." + +"Ah, but that's a big connection, ma'am. To find some one who knew Mr. +Adams--really, madam, patience has its limits, and I must press you to +speak." + +"Oh, I will speak! The time has come for it. Besides, I'm quite ready to +discuss this new theme; it is very interesting." + +"Suppose we begin, then, by a detailed account of your adventures in +this house of death," dryly suggested the detective. "Your full +adventures, madam, with nothing left out." + +"I appreciate the sarcasm, but nothing has been left out except what I +am about to relate to you. It happened just as I was leaving the house." + +"What did? I hate to ask you to be more explicit. But, in the interests +of justice----" + +"You are quite right. As I was going out, then, I encountered an elderly +gentleman coming in. His hand had just touched the bell handle. You will +acknowledge that it was a perplexing moment for me. His face, which was +well preserved for his years, wore an air of expectation that was almost +gay. He glanced in astonishment at mine, which, whatever its usual +serenity, certainly must have borne marks of deep emotion. Neither of us +spoke. At last he inquired politely if he might enter, and said +something about having an appointment with some one in the study. At +which I stepped briskly enough aside, I assure you, for this might +mean--What did you say? Did I close the door? I assuredly did. Was I to +let the whole of ---- Street into the horrors of this house at a moment +when a poor old man--No, I didn't go out myself. Why should I? Was I to +leave a man on the verge of eighty--excuse me, not every man of eighty +is so hale and vigorous as yourself--to enter such a scene alone? +Besides, I had not warned him of the condition of the only other living +occupant of the house." + +"Discreet, very. Quite what was to be expected of you, Miss Butterworth. +More than that. You followed him, no doubt, with careful supervision, +down the hall." + +"Most certainly! What would you have thought of me if I had not? He was +in a strange house; there was no servant to guide him, he wanted to know +the way to the study, and I politely showed him there." + +"Kind of you, madam,--very. It must have been an interesting moment to +you." + +"Very interesting! Too interesting! I own that I am not made entirely of +steel, sir, and the shock he received at finding a dead man awaiting +him, instead of a live one, was more or less communicated to me. Yet I +stood my ground." + +"Admirable! I could have done no better myself. And so this man who had +an appointment with Mr. Adams was shocked, really shocked, at finding +him lying there under a cross, dead?" + +"Yes, there was no doubting that. Shocked, surprised, terrified, and +something more. It is that something more which has proved my +perplexity. I cannot make it out, not even in thinking it over. Was it +the fascination which all horrible sights exert on the morbid, or was it +a sudden realization of some danger he had escaped, or of some +difficulty yet awaiting him? Hard to say, Mr. Gryce, hard to say; but +you may take my word for it that there was more to him in this meeting +than an unexpected stumbling upon a dead man where he expected to find a +live one. Yet he made no sound after that first cry, and hardly any +movement. He just stared at the figure on the floor; then at his face, +which he seemed to devour, at first with curiosity, then with hate, then +with terror, and lastly--how can I express myself?--with a sort of +hellish humor that in another moment might have broken into something +like a laugh, if the bird, which I had failed to observe up to this +moment, had not waked in its high cage, and, thrusting its beak between +the bars, shrilled out in the most alarming of tones: 'Remember Evelyn!' +That startled the old man even more than the sight on the floor had +done. He turned round, and I saw his fist rise as if against some +menacing intruder, but it quickly fell again as his eyes encountered the +picture which hung before him, and with a cringe painful to see in one +of his years, he sidled back till he reached the doorway. Here he paused +a minute to give another look at the man outstretched at his feet, and I +heard him say: + +"'It is Amos's son, not Amos! Is it fatality, or did he plan this +meeting, thinking----' + +"But here he caught sight of my figure in the antechamber beyond, and +resuming in an instant his former debonair manner, he bowed very low and +opened his lips as if about to ask a question. But he evidently thought +better of it, for he strode by me and made his way to the front door +without a word. Being an intruder myself, I did not like to stop him. +But I am sorry now for the consideration I showed him; for just before +he stepped out, his emotion--the special character of which, I own to +you, I find impossible to understand--culminated in a burst of raucous +laughter which added the final horror to this amazing adventure. Then he +went out, and in the last glimpse I had of him before the door shut he +wore the same look of easy self-satisfaction with which he had entered +this place of death some fifteen minutes before." + +"Remarkable! Some secret history there! That man must be found. He can +throw light upon Mr. Adams's past. 'Amos's son,' he called him? Who is +Amos? Mr. Adams's name was Felix. Felix, the son of Amos. Perhaps this +connection of names may lead to something. It is not a common one, and +if given to the papers, may result in our receiving a clew to a mystery +which seems impenetrable. Your stay in Mr. Adams's house was quite +productive, ma'am. Did you prolong it after the departure of this old +man?" + +"No, sir, I had had my fill of the mysterious, and left immediately +after him. Ashamed of the spirit of investigation which had led me to +enter the house, I made a street boy the medium of my communication to +the police, and would have been glad if I could have so escaped all +responsibility in the matter. But the irony of fate follows me as it +does others. A clew was left of my presence, which involves me in this +affair, whether I will or no. Was the hand of Providence in this? +Perhaps. The future will tell. And now, Mr. Gryce, since my budget is +quite empty and the hour late, I will take my leave. If you hear from +that bit of paper----" + +"If I hear from it in the way you suggest I will let you know. It will +be the least I can do for a lady who has done so much for me." + +"Now you flatter me--proof positive that I have stayed a minute longer +than was judicious. Good evening, Mr. Gryce. What? I have not stayed too +long? You have something else to ask." + +"Yes, and this time it is concerning a matter personal to yourself. May +I inquire if you wore the same bonnet yesterday that you do to-day?" + +"No, sir. I know you have a good reason for this question, and so will +not express my surprise. Yesterday I was in reception costume, and my +bonnet was a jet one----" + +"With long strings tied under the chin?" + +"No, sir, short strings; long strings are no longer the fashion." + +"But you wore something which fell from your neck?" + +"Yes, a boa--a feather boa. How came you to know it, sir? Did I leave my +image in one of the mirrors?" + +"Hardly. If so, I should not have expected it to speak. You merely wrote +the fact on the study table top. Or so I have dared to think. You or the +young lady--did she wear ribbons or streamers, too?" + +"That I cannot say. Her face was all I saw, and the skirt of a +dove-colored silk dress." + +"Then you must settle the question for me in this way. If on the tips of +that boa of yours you find the faintest evidence of its having been +dipped in blood, I shall know that the streaks found on the top of the +table I speak of were evidences of your presence there. But if your boa +is clean, or was not long enough to touch that dying man as you leaned +over him, then we have proof that the young lady with the dove-colored +plumes fingered that table also, instead of falling at once into the +condition in which you saw her carried out." + +"I fear that it is my boa which will tell the tale: another proof of the +fallibility of man, or, rather, woman. In secret search for clews I left +behind me traces of my own presence. I really feel mortified, sir, and +you have quite the advantage of me." + +And with this show of humility, which may not have been entirely +sincere, this estimable lady took her departure. + +Did Mr. Gryce suffer from any qualms of conscience at having elicited so +much and imparted so little? I doubt it. Mr. Gryce's conscience was +quite seared in certain places. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +IN THE ROUND OF THE STAIRCASE. + + +The next morning Mr. Gryce received a small communication from Miss +Butterworth at or near the very time she received one from him. Hers +ran: + + You were quite correct. So far as appears, I was the only person to + lean over Mr. Adams's study table after his unfortunate death. I + have had to clip the ends of my boa. + +His was equally laconic: + + My compliments, madam! Mr. Adams's jaws have been forced apart. A + small piece of paper was found clinched between his teeth. This + paper has been recovered, and will be read at the inquest. Perhaps + a few favored persons may be granted the opportunity of reading it + before then, notably yourself. + +Of the two letters the latter naturally occasioned the greater +excitement in the recipient. The complacency of Miss Butterworth was +superb, and being the result of something that could not be communicated +to those about her, occasioned in the household much speculation as to +its cause. + +At Police Headquarters more than one man was kept busy listening to the +idle tales of a crowd of would-be informers. The results which had +failed to follow the first day's publication of the crime came rapidly +in during the second. There were innumerable persons of all ages and +conditions who were ready to tell how they had seen this and that one +issue from Mr. Adams's house on the afternoon of his death, but when +asked to give a description of these persons, lost themselves in +generalities as tedious as they were unprofitable. One garrulous old +woman had observed a lady of genteel appearance open the door to an +elderly gentleman in a great-coat; and a fashionably dressed young woman +came in all breathless to relate how a young man with a very pale young +lady on his arm ran against her as she was going by this house at the +very hour Mr. Adams was said to have been murdered. She could not be +sure of knowing the young man again, and could not say if the young lady +was blonde or brunette, only that she was awfully pale and had a +beautiful gray feather in her hat. + +Others were ready with similar stories, which confirmed, without adding +to, the facts already known, and night came on without much progress +having been made toward the unravelling of this formidable mystery. + +On the next day Mr. Adams's funeral took place. No relatives or intimate +friends having come forward, his landlord attended to these rites and +his banker acted the part of chief mourner. As his body was carried out +of the house, a half-dozen detectives mingled with the crowd blocking +the thoroughfare in front, but nothing came of their surveillance here +or at the cemetery to which the remains were speedily carried. The +problem which had been presented to the police had to be worked out from +such material as had already come to hand; and, in forcible recognition +of this fact, Mr. Gryce excused himself one evening at Headquarters and +proceeded quite alone and on foot to the dark and apparently closed +house in which the tragedy had occurred. + +He entered with a key, and once inside, proceeded to light up the whole +house. This done, he took a look at the study, saw that the cross had +been replaced on the wall, the bird-cage rehung on its hook under the +ceiling, and everything put in its wonted order, with the exception of +the broken casings, which still yawned in a state of disrepair on either +side of the doorway leading into the study. The steel plate had been +shoved back into the place prepared for it by Mr. Adams, but the +glimpses still to be seen of its blue surface through the hole made in +the wall of the antechamber formed anything but an attractive feature +in the scene, and Mr. Gryce, with something of the instinct and much of +the deftness of a housewife, proceeded to pull up a couple of rugs from +the parlor floor and string them over these openings. Then he consulted +his watch, and finding that it was within an hour of nine o'clock, took +up his stand behind the curtains of the parlor window. Soon, for the +person expected was as prompt as himself, he saw a carriage stop and a +lady alight, and he hastened to the front door to receive her. It was +Miss Butterworth. + +"Madam, your punctuality is equal to my own," said he. "Have you ordered +your coachman to drive away?" + +"Only as far as the corner," she returned, as she followed him down the +hall. "There he will await the call of your whistle." + +"Nothing could be better. Are you afraid to remain for a moment alone, +while I watch from the window the arrival of the other persons we +expect? At present there is no one in the house but ourselves." + +"If I was subject to fear in a matter of this kind, I should not be here +at all. Besides, the house is very cheerfully lighted. I see you have +chosen a crimson light for illuminating the study." + +"Because a crimson light was burning when Mr. Adams died." + +"Remember Evelyn!" called out a voice. + +"Oh, you have brought back the bird!" exclaimed Miss Butterworth. "That +is not the cry with which it greeted me before. It was 'Eva! Lovely +Eva!' Do you suppose Eva and Evelyn are the same?" + +"Madam, we have so many riddles before us that we will let this one go +for the present. I expect Mr. Adams's valet here in a moment." + +"Sir, you relieve me of an immense weight. I was afraid that the +privilege of being present at the test you propose to make was not to be +accorded me." + +"Miss Butterworth, you have earned a seat at this experiment. Bartow has +been given a key, and will enter as of old in entire freedom to do as he +wills. We have simply to watch his movements." + +"In this room, sir? I do not think I shall like that. I had rather not +meet this madman face to face." + +"You will not be called upon to do so. We do not wish him to be startled +by encountering any watchful eye. Irresponsible as he is, he must be +allowed to move about without anything to distract his attention. +Nothing must stand in the way of his following those impulses which may +yield us a clew to his habits and the ways of this peculiar household. I +propose to place you where the chances are least in favor of your being +seen by him--in this parlor, madam, which we have every reason to +believe was seldom opened during Mr. Adams's lifetime." + +"You must put out the gas, then, or the unaccustomed light will attract +his attention." + +"I will not only put out the gas, but I will draw the portieres close, +making this little hole for your eye and this one for mine. A common +expedient, madam; but serviceable, madam, serviceable." + +The snort which Miss Butterworth gave as she thus found herself drawn up +in darkness before a curtain, in company with this plausible old man, +but feebly conveyed her sensations, which were naturally complex and a +little puzzling to herself. Had she been the possessor of a lively +curiosity (but we know from her own lips that she was not), she might +have found some enjoyment in the situation. But being where she was +solely from a sense of duty, she probably blushed behind her screen at +the position in which she found herself, in the cause of truth and +justice; or would have done so if the opening of the front door at that +moment had not told her that the critical moment had arrived and that +the deaf-and-dumb valet had just been introduced into the house. + +The faintest "Hush!" from Mr. Gryce warned her that her surmise was +correct, and, bending her every energy to listen, she watched for the +expected appearance of this man in the antechamber of Mr. Adams's former +study. + +He came even sooner than she was prepared to see him, and laying down +his hat on a table near the doorway, advanced with a busy air toward the +portiere he had doubtless been in the habit of lifting twenty times a +day. But he barely touched it this time. Something seen, or unseen, +prevented him from entering. Was it the memory of what he had last +beheld there? Or had he noticed the rugs hanging in an unaccustomed way +on either side of the damaged casings? Neither, apparently, for he +simply turned away with a meek look, wholly mechanical, and taking up +his hat again, left the antechamber and proceeded softly upstairs. + +"I will follow him," whispered Mr. Gryce. "Don't be afraid, ma'am. This +whistle will bring a man in from the street at once." + +"I am not afraid. I would be ashamed----" + +But it was useless for her to finish this disclaimer. Mr. Gryce was +already in the hall. He returned speedily, and saying that the +experiment was likely to be a failure, as the old man had gone to his +own room and was preparing himself for bed, he led the way into the +study, and with purpose, or without a purpose--who knows?--idly touched +a button on the table top, thus throwing a new light on the scene. It +was Miss Butterworth's first experience of this change of light, and she +was observing the effect made by the violet glow now thrown over the +picture and the other rich articles in the room when her admiration was +cut short, and Mr. Gryce's half-uttered remark also, by the faint sound +of the valet's descending steps. + +Indeed, they had barely time to regain their old position behind the +parlor portieres when Bartow was seen hurrying in from the hall with his +former busy air, which this time remained unchecked. + +Crossing to his master's study, he paused for an infinitesimal length of +time on the threshold, as if conscious of something being amiss, then +went into the room beyond, and, without a glance in the direction of the +rug, which had been carefully relaid on the spot where his master had +fallen, began to make such arrangements for the night as he was in the +habit of making at this hour. He brought a bottle of wine from the +cupboard and set it on the table, and then a glass, which he first wiped +scrupulously clean. Then he took out his master's dressing gown and +slippers, and, placing them to hand, went into the bedroom. + +By this time the two watchers had crept from their concealment near +enough to note what he was doing in the bedroom. He was stooping over +the comb which Mr. Gryce had left lying on the floor. This small object +in such a place seemed to surprise him. He took it up, shook his head, +and put it back on the dresser. Then he turned down his master's bed. + +"Poor fool!" murmured Miss Butterworth as she and her companion crept +back to their old place behind the parlor curtains, "he has forgotten +everything but his old routine duties. We shall get nothing from this +man." + +But she stopped suddenly; they both stopped. Bartow was in the middle of +the study, with his eyes fixed on his master's empty chair in an +inquiring way that spoke volumes. Then he turned, and gazed earnestly at +the rug where he had last seen that master lying outstretched and +breathless; and awakening to a realization of what had happened, fell +into his most violent self and proceeded to go through the series of +actions which they were now bound to consider a reproduction of what he +had previously seen take place there. Then he went softly out, and crept +away upstairs. + +Mr. Gryce and Miss Butterworth stepped at once into the light, and +surveyed each other with a look of marked discouragement. Then the +latter, with a sudden gleam of enthusiasm, cried quickly: + +"Turn on another color, and let us see what will happen. I have an idea +it will fetch the old man down again." + +Mr. Gryce's brows went up. + +"Do you think he can see through the floor?" + +But he touched a button, and a rich blue took the place of the violet. + +Nothing happened. + +Miss Butterworth looked disturbed. + +"I have confidence in your theories," began Mr. Gryce, "but when they +imply the possibility of this man seeing through blank walls and obeying +signals which can have no signification to any one on the floor +above----" + +"Hark!" she cried, holding up one finger with a triumphant air. The old +man's steps could be heard descending. + +This time he approached with considerable feebleness, passed slowly into +the study, advanced to the table, and reached out his hands as if to +lift something which he expected to find there. Seeing nothing, he +glanced in astonishment up at the book shelves and then back to the +table, shook his head, and suddenly collapsing, sank in a doze on the +nearest chair. + +Miss Butterworth drew a long breath, eyed Mr. Gryce with some curiosity, +and then triumphantly exclaimed: + +"Can you read the meaning of all that? I think I can. Don't you see that +he came expecting to find a pile of books on the table which it was +probably his business to restore to their shelves?" + +"But how can he know what light is burning here? You can see for +yourself that there is no possible communication between this room and +the one in which he has always been found by any one going above." + +Miss Butterworth's manner showed a hesitation that was almost naive. She +smiled, and there was apology in her smile, though none in her voice, as +she remarked with odd breaks: + +"When I went upstairs--you know I went upstairs when I was here +before--I saw a little thing--a very little thing--which you doubtless +observed yourself and which may explain, though I do not know how, why +Bartow can perceive these lights from the floor above." + +"I shall be very glad to hear about it, madam. I thought I had +thoroughly searched those rooms----" + +"And the halls?" + +"And the halls; and that nothing in them could have escaped my eyes. But +if you have a more patient vision than myself----" + +"Or make it my business to look lower----" + +"How?" + +"To look lower; to look on the floor, say." + +"On the floor?" + +"The floor sometimes reveals much: shows where a person steps the +oftenest, and, therefore, where he has the most business. You must have +noticed how marred the woodwork is at the edge of the carpeting on that +little landing above." + +"In the round of the staircase?" + +"Yes." + +Mr. Gryce did not think it worth his while to answer. Perhaps he had not +time; for leaving the valet where he was, and Miss Butterworth where she +was (only she would not be left, but followed him), he made his way +upstairs, and paused at the place she had mentioned, with a curious look +at the floor. + +"You see, it has been much trodden here," she said; at which gentle +reminder of her presence he gave a start; possibly he had not heard her +behind him, and after sixty years of hard service even a detective may +be excused a slight nervousness. "Now, why should it be trodden here? +There is no apparent reason why any one should shuffle to and fro in +this corner. The stair is wide, especially here, and there is no +window----" + +Mr. Gryce, whose eye had been travelling over the wall, reached over her +shoulder to one of the dozen pictures hanging at intervals from the +bottom to the top of the staircase, and pulling it away from the wall, +on which it hung decidedly askew, revealed a round opening through which +poured a ray of blue light which could only proceed from the vault of +the adjoining study. + +"No window," he repeated. "No, but an opening into the study wall which +answers the same purpose. Miss Butterworth, your eye is to be trusted +every time. I only wonder you did not pull this picture aside yourself." + +"It was not hanging crooked then. Besides I was in a hurry. I had just +come from my encounter with this demented man. I had noticed the marks +on the landing, and the worn edges of the carpet, on my way upstairs. I +was in no condition to observe them on my way down." + +"I see." + +Miss Butterworth ran her foot to and fro over the flooring they were +examining. + +"Bartow was evidently in the habit of coming here constantly," said she, +"probably to learn whether his master had need of him. Ingenious in Mr. +Adams to contrive signals for communication with this man! He certainly +had great use for his deaf-and-dumb servant. So one mystery is solved!" + +"And if I am not mistaken, we can by a glance through this loophole +obtain the answer to another. You are wondering, I believe, how Bartow, +if he followed the movements of the assailant from the doorway, came to +thrust with his left hand, instead of with his right. Now if he saw the +tragedy from this point, he saw it over the assailant's shoulder, +instead of face to face. What follows? He would imitate literally the +movements of the man he saw, turn in the same direction and strike with +the same hand." + +"Mr. Gryce, we are beginning to untangle the threads that looked so +complicated. Ah, what is that? Why, it's that bird! His cage must be +very nearly under this hole." + +"A little to one side, madam, but near enough to give you a start. What +was it he cried then?" + +"Oh, those sympathetic words about Eva! 'Poor Eva!'" + +"Well, give a glance to Bartow. You can see him very well from here." + +Miss Butterworth put her eye again to the opening, and gave a grunt, a +very decided grunt. With her a grunt was significant of surprise. + +"He is shaking his fist; he is all alive with passion. He looks as if he +would like to kill the bird." + +"Perhaps that is why the creature was strung up so high. You may be sure +Mr. Adams had some basis for his idiosyncrasies." + +"I begin to think so. I don't know that I care to go back where that man +is. He has a very murderous look." + +"And a very feeble arm, Miss Butterworth. You are safe under my +protection. My arm is not feeble." + +[Illustration: A-Table. B-Small Stand. C-Door to Bedroom. D-Evelyn's +Picture E-Loophole on Stair Landing. F-Entrance to Study.] [1] + +[Footnote 1: Since my readers may not understand how an opening above +the stairway might communicate with Mr. Adams's study, I here submit a +diagram of the same. The study walls were very high, forming a rounded +extension at the back of the house.] + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +HIGH AND LOW. + + +At the foot of the stairs, Mr. Gryce excused himself, and calling in two +or three men whom he had left outside, had the valet removed before +taking Miss Butterworth back into the study. When all was quiet again, +and they found an opportunity to speak, Mr. Gryce remarked: + +"One very important thing has been settled by the experiment we have +just made. Bartow is acquitted of participation in this crime." + +"Then we can give our full attention to the young people. You have heard +nothing from them, I suppose?" + +"No." + +"Nor from the old man who laughed?" + +"No." + +Miss Butterworth looked disappointed. + +"I thought--it seemed very probable--that the scrap of writing you found +would inform you who these were. If it was important enough for the +dying man to try to swallow it, it certainly should give some clew to +his assailant." + +"Unfortunately, it does not do so. It was a veritable scrawl, madam, +running something like this: 'I return your daughter to you. She is +here. Neither she nor you will ever see me again. Remember Evelyn!' And +signed, 'Amos's son.'" + +"Amos's son! That is Mr. Adams himself." + +"So we have every reason to believe." + +"Strange! Unaccountable! And the paper inscribed with these words was +found clinched between his teeth! Was the handwriting recognized?" + +"Yes, as his own, if we can judge from the specimens we have seen of his +signature on the fly-leaves of his books." + +"Well, mysteries deepen. And the retaining of this paper was so +important to him that even in his death throe he thrust it in this +strangest of all hiding-places, as being the only one that could be +considered safe from search. And the girl! Her first words on coming to +herself were: 'You have left that line of writing behind.' Mr. Gryce, +those words, few and inexplicable as they are, contain the key to the +whole situation. Will you repeat them again, if you please, sentence by +sentence?" + +"With pleasure, madam; I have said them often enough to myself. First, +then: 'I return your daughter to you!'" + +"So! Mr. Adams had some one's daughter in charge whom he returns. Whose +daughter? Not that young man's daughter, certainly, for that would +necessitate her being a small child. Besides, if these words had been +meant for his assailant, why make so remarkable an effort to hide them +from him?" + +"Very true! I have said the same thing to myself." + +"Yet, if not for him, for whom, then? For the old gentleman who came in +later?" + +"It is possible; since hearing of him I have allowed myself to regard +this as among the possibilities, especially as the next words of this +strange communication are: 'She is here.' Now the only woman who was +there a few minutes previous to this old gentleman's visit was the +light-haired girl whom you saw carried out." + +"Very true; but why do you reason as if this paper had just been +written? It might have been an old scrap, referring to past sorrows or +secrets." + +"These words were written that afternoon. The paper on which they were +scrawled was torn from a sheet of letter paper lying on the desk, and +the pen with which they were inscribed--you must have noticed where it +lay, quite out of its natural place on the extreme edge of the table." + +"Certainly, sir; but I had little idea of the significance we might come +to attach to it. These words are connected, then, with the girl I saw. +And she is not Evelyn or he would not have repeated in this note the +bird's catch-word, 'Remember Evelyn!' I wonder if she is Evelyn?" +proceeded Miss Butterworth, pointing to the one large picture which +adorned the wall. + +"We may call her so for the nonce. So melancholy a face may well suggest +some painful family secret. But how explain the violent part played by +the young man, who is not mentioned in these abrupt and hastily penned +sentences! It is all a mystery, madam, a mystery which we are wasting +time to attempt to solve." + +"Yet I hate to give it up without an effort. Those words, now. There +were some other words you have not repeated to me." + +"They came before that injunction, 'Remember Evelyn!' They bespoke a +resolve. 'Neither she nor you will ever see me again.'" + +"Ah! but these few words are very significant, Mr. Gryce. Could he have +dealt that blow himself? May he have been a suicide after all?" + +"Madam, you have the right to inquire; but from Bartow's pantomime, you +must have perceived it is not a self-inflicted blow he mimics, but a +maddened thrust from an outraged hand. Let us keep to our first +conclusions; only--to be fair to every possibility--the condition of Mr. +Adams's affairs and the absence of all family papers and such documents +as may usually be found in a wealthy man's desk prove that he had made +some preparation for possible death. It may have come sooner than he +expected and in another way, but it was a thought he had indulged in, +and--madam, I have a confession to make also. I have not been quite fair +to my most valued colleague. The study--that most remarkable of +rooms--contains a secret which has not been imparted to you; a very +peculiar one, madam, which was revealed to me in a rather startling +manner. This room can be, or rather could be, cut off entirely from the +rest of the house; made a death-trap of, or rather a tomb, in which this +incomprehensible man may have intended to die. Look at this plate of +steel. It is worked by a mechanism which forces it across this open +doorway. I was behind that plate of steel the other night, and these +holes had to be made to let me out." + +"Ha! You detectives have your experiences! I should not have enjoyed +spending that especial evening with you. But what an old-world tragedy +we are unearthing here! I declare"--and the good lady actually rubbed +her eyes--"I feel as if transported back to mediaeval days. Who says we +are living in New York within sound of the cable car and the singing of +the telegraph wire?" + +"Some men are perfectly capable of bringing the mediaeval into Wall +Street. I think Mr. Adams was one of those men. Romanticism tinged all +his acts, even the death he died. Nor did it cease with his death. It +followed him to the tomb. Witness the cross we found lying on his +bosom." + +"That was the act of another's hand, the result of another's +superstition. That shows the presence of a priest or a woman at the +moment he died." + +"Yet," proceeded Mr. Gryce, with a somewhat wondering air, "he must have +had a grain of hard sense in his make-up. All his contrivances worked. +He was a mechanical genius, as well as a lover of mystery." + +"An odd combination. Strange that we do not feel his spirit infecting +the very air of this study. I could almost wish it did. We might then be +led to grasp the key to this mystery." + +"That," remarked Mr. Gryce, "can be done in only one way. You have +already pointed it out. We must trace the young couple who were present +at his death struggle. If they cannot be found the case is hopeless." + +"And so," said she, "we come around to the point from which we +started--proof positive that we are lost in the woods." And Miss +Butterworth rose. She felt that for the time being she, at least, had +come to the end of her resources. + +Mr. Gryce did not seek to detain her. Indeed, he appeared to be anxious +to leave the place himself. They, however, stopped long enough to cast +one final look around them. As they did so Miss Butterworth's finger +slowly rose. + +"See!" said she, "you can hardly perceive from this side of the wall the +opening made by the removal of that picture on the stair landing. +Wouldn't you say that it was in the midst of those folds of dark-colored +tapestry up there?" + +"Yes, I had already located that spot as the one. With the picture hung +up on the other side, it would be quite invisible." + +"One needs to keep one's eyes moving in a case like this. That picture +must have been drawn aside several times while we were in this room. Yet +we failed to notice it." + +"That was from not looking high enough. High and low, Mr. Gryce! What +goes on at the level of the eye is apparent to every one." + +The smile with which he acknowledged this parting shot and prepared to +escort her to the door had less of irony than sadness in it. Was he +beginning to realize that years tell even on the most sagacious, and +that neither high places nor low would have escaped his attention a +dozen years before? + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +BRIDE ROSES. + + +"A blonde, you say, sir?" + +"Yes, Sweetwater; not of the usual type, but one of those frail, +ethereal creatures whom we find it so hard to associate with crime. He, +on the contrary, according to Miss Butterworth's description (and her +descriptions may be relied upon), is one of those gentlemanly athletes +whose towering heads and powerful figures attract universal attention. +Seen together, you would be apt to know them. But what reason have we +for thinking they will be found together?" + +"How were they dressed?" + +"Like people of fashion and respectability. He wore a brown-checked suit +apparently fresh from the tailor; she, a dove-colored dress with white +trimmings. The parasol shows the color of her hat and plumes. Both were +young, and (still according to Miss Butterworth) of sensitive +temperament and unused to crime; for she was in a fainting condition +when carried from the house, and he, with every inducement to +self-restraint, showed himself the victim of such powerful emotion that +he would have been immediately surrounded and questioned if he had not +set his burden down in the vestibule and at once plunged with the girl +into the passing crowd. Do you think you can find them, Sweetwater?" + +"Have you no clews to their identity beyond this parasol?" + +"None, Sweetwater, if you except these few faded rose leaves picked up +from the floor of Mr. Adams's study." + +"Then you have given me a problem, Mr. Gryce," remarked the young +detective dubiously, as he eyed the parasol held out to him and let the +rose-leaves drop carelessly through his fingers. "Somehow I do not feel +the same assurances of success that I did before. Perhaps I more fully +realize the difficulties of any such quest, now that I see how much +rests upon chance in these matters. If Miss Butterworth had not been a +precise woman, I should have failed in my former attempt, as I am likely +to fail in this one. But I will make another effort to locate the owner +of this parasol, if only to learn my business by failure. And now, sir, +where do you think I am going first? To a florist's, with these faded +rose-leaves. Just because every other young fellow on the force would +make a start from the parasol, I am going to try and effect one from +these rose-leaves. I may be an egotist, but I cannot help that. I can do +nothing with the parasol." + +"And what do you hope to do with the rose-leaves? How can a florist help +you in finding this young woman by means of them?" + +"He may be able to say from what kind of a rose they fell, and once I +know that, I may succeed in discovering the particular store from which +the bouquet was sold to this more or less conspicuous couple." + +"You may. I am not the man to throw cold water on any one's schemes. +Every man has his own methods, and till they are proved valueless I say +nothing." + +Young Sweetwater, who was now all nerve, enthusiasm, and hope, bowed. He +was satisfied to be allowed to work in his own way. + +"I may be back in an hour, and you may not see me for a week," he +remarked on leaving. + +"Luck to your search!" was the short reply. This ended the interview. In +a few minutes more Sweetwater was off. + +The hour passed; he did not come back; the day, and still no Sweetwater. +Another day went by, enlivened only by an interchange of notes between +Mr. Gryce and Miss Butterworth. Hers was read by the old detective with +a smile. Perhaps because it was so terse; perhaps because it was so +characteristic. + + Dear Mr. Gryce: + + I do not presume to dictate or even to offer a suggestion to the + New York police, but have you inquired of the postman in a certain + district whether he can recall the postmark on any of the letters + he delivered to Mr. Adams? + + A. B. + +His, on the contrary, was perused with a frown by his exacting colleague +in Gramercy Park. The reason is obvious. + + Dear Miss Butterworth: + + Suggestions are always in order, and even dictation can be endured + from you. The postman delivers too many letters on that block to + concern himself with postmarks. Sorry to close another + thoroughfare. + + E. G. + +Meanwhile, the anxiety of both was great; that of Mr. Gryce excessive. +He was consequently much relieved when, on the third morning, he found +Sweetwater awaiting him at the office, with a satisfied smile lighting +up his plain features. He had reserved his story for his special patron, +and as soon as they were closeted together he turned with beaming eyes +toward the old detective, crying: + +"News, sir; good news! I have found them; I have found them both, and by +such a happy stroke! It was a blind trail, but when the florist said +that those petals might have fallen from a bride rose--well, sir, I know +that any woman can carry bride roses, but when I remembered that the +clothes of her companion looked as though they had just come from the +tailor's, and that she wore gray and white--why, it gave me an idea, and +I began my search after this unknown pair at the Bureau of Vital +Statistics." + +"Brilliant!" ejaculated the old detective. "That is, if the thing +worked." + +"And it did, sir; it did. I may have been born under a lucky star, +probably was, but once started on this line of search, I went straight +to the end. Shall I tell you how? Hunting through the list of such +persons as had been married within the city limits during the last two +weeks, I came upon the name of one Eva Poindexter. Eva! that was a name +well-known in the house on ---- Street. I decided to follow up this +Eva." + +"A wise conclusion! And how did you set about it?" + +"Why, I went directly to the clergyman who had performed the ceremony. +He was a kind and affable dominie, sir, and I had no trouble in talking +to him." + +"And you described the bride?" + +"No, I led the conversation so that he described her." + +"Good; and what kind of a woman did he make her out to be? Delicate? +Pale?" + +"Sir, he had not read the service for so lovely a bride in years. Very +slight, almost fragile, but beautiful, and with a delicate bloom which +showed her to be in better health than one would judge from her dainty +figure. It was a private wedding, sir, celebrated in a hotel parlor; but +her father was with her----" + +"Her father?" Mr. Gryce's theory received its first shock. Then the old +man who had laughed on leaving Mr. Adams's house was not the father to +whom those few lines in Mr. Adams's handwriting were addressed. Or this +young woman was not the person referred to in those lines. + +"Is there anything wrong about that?" inquired Sweetwater. + +Mr. Gryce became impassive again. + +"No; I had not expected his attendance at the wedding; that is all." + +"Sorry, sir, but there is no doubt about his having been there. The +bridegroom----" + +"Yes, tell me about the bridegroom." + +"Was the very man you described to me as leaving Mr. Adams's house with +her. Tall, finely developed, with a grand air and gentlemanly manners. +Even his clothes correspond with what you told me to expect: a checked +suit, brown in color, and of the latest cut. Oh, he is the man!" + +Mr. Gryce, with a suddenly developed interest in the lid of his +inkstand, recalled the lines which Mr. Adams had written immediately +before his death, and found himself wholly at sea. How reconcile facts +so diametrically opposed? What allusion could there be in these lines to +the new-made bride of another man? They read, rather, as if she were his +own bride, as witness: + + I return your daughter to you. She is here. Neither she nor you + will ever see me again. Remember Evelyn! + + AMOS'S SON. + +There must be something wrong. Sweetwater must have been led astray by a +series of extraordinary coincidences. Dropping the lid of the inkstand +in a way to make the young man smile, he looked up. + +"I'm afraid it's been a fool chase, Sweetwater. The facts you relate in +regard to this couple, the fact of their having been married at all, +tally so little with what we have been led to expect from certain other +evidences which have come in----" + +"Pardon me, sir, but will you hear me out? At the Imperial, where they +were married, I learned that the father and daughter had registered as +coming from a small place in Pennsylvania; but I could learn nothing in +regard to the bridegroom. He had not appeared on the scene till the time +for the ceremony, and after the marriage was seen to take his bride away +in one carriage while the old gentleman departed in another. The latter +concerned me little; it was the young couple I had been detailed to +find. Employing the usual means of search, I tracked them to the +Waldorf, where I learned what makes it certain that I have been +following the right couple. On the afternoon of the very day of Mr. +Adams's death, this young husband and wife left the hotel on foot and +did not come back. Their clothes, which had all been left behind, were +taken away two days later by an elderly gentleman who said he was her +father and whose appearance coincides with that of the person +registering as such at the Imperial. All of which looks favorable to my +theory, does it not, especially when you remember that the bridegroom's +name----" + +"You have not told it." + +"Is Adams, Thomas Adams. Same family as the murdered man, you see. At +least, he has the same name." + +Mr. Gryce surveyed the young man with admiration, but was not yet +disposed to yield him entire credence. + +"Humph! I do not wonder you thought it worth your while to follow up the +pair, if one of them is named Adams and the other Eva. But, Sweetwater, +the longer you serve on the force the more you will learn that +coincidences as strange and unexpected as these do occur at times, and +must be taken into account in the elucidation of a difficult problem. +Much as I may regret to throw cold water on your hopes, there are +reasons for believing that the young man and woman whom we are seeking +are not the ones you have busied yourself about for the last two days. +Certain facts which have come to light would seem to show that if she +had a husband at all, his name would not be Thomas Adams, but Felix, and +as the facts I have to bring forward are most direct and unimpeachable, +I fear you will have to start again, and on a new tack." + +But Sweetwater remained unshaken, and eyed his superior with a vague +smile playing about his lips. + +"You have not asked me, sir, where I have spent all the time which has +elapsed since I saw you last. The investigations I have mentioned did +not absorb more than a day." + +"Very true. Where have you been, Sweetwater?" + +"To Montgomery, sir, to that small town in Pennsylvania from which Mr. +Poindexter and his daughter registered." + +"Ah, I see! And what did you learn there? Something directly to the +point?" + +"I learned this, that John Poindexter, father of Eva, had for a friend +in early life one Amos Cadwalader." + +"Amos!" repeated Mr. Gryce, with an odd look. + +"Yes, and that this Amos had a son, Felix." + +"Ah!" + +"You see, sir, we must be on the right track; coincidences cannot extend +through half a dozen names." + +"You are right. It is I who have made a mistake in drawing my +conclusions too readily. Let us hear about this Amos. You gathered +something of his history, no doubt." + +"All that was possible, sir. It is closely woven in with that of +Poindexter, and presents one feature which may occasion you no surprise, +but which, I own, came near nonplussing me. Though the father of Felix, +his name was not Adams. I say was not, for he has been dead six months. +It was Cadwalader. And Felix went by the name of Cadwalader, too, in the +early days of which I have to tell, he and a sister whose name----" + +"Well?" + +"Was Evelyn." + +"Sweetwater, you are an admirable fellow. So the mystery is ours." + +"The history, not the mystery; that still holds. Shall I relate what I +know of those two families?" + +"At once: I am as anxious as if I were again twenty-three and had been +in your shoes instead of my own for the last three days." + +"Very well, sir. John Poindexter and Amos Cadwalader were, in their +early life, bosom friends. They had come from Scotland together and +settled in Montgomery in the thirties. Both married there, but John +Poindexter was a prosperous man from the first, while Cadwalader had +little ability to support a family, and was on the verge of bankruptcy +when the war of the rebellion broke out and he enlisted as a soldier. +Poindexter remained at home, caring for his own family and for the two +children of Cadwalader, whom he took into his own house. I say his own +family, but he had no family, save a wife, up to the spring of '80. Then +a daughter was born to him, the Eva who has just married Thomas Adams. +Cadwalader, who was fitted for army life, rose to be a captain; but he +was unfortunately taken prisoner at one of the late battles and confined +in Libby Prison, where he suffered the tortures of the damned till he +was released, in 1865, by a forced exchange of prisoners. Broken, old, +and crushed, he returned home, and no one living in the town at that +time will ever forget the day he alighted from the cars and took his way +up the main street. For not having been fortunate enough, or unfortunate +enough, perhaps, to receive any communication from home, he advanced +with a cheerful haste, not knowing that his only daughter then lay dead +in his friend's house, and that it was for her funeral that the people +were collecting in the green square at the end of the street. He was so +pale, broken, and decrepit that few knew him. But there was one old +neighbor who recognized him and was kind enough to lead him into a quiet +place, and there tell him that he had arrived just too late to see his +darling daughter alive. The shock, instead of prostrating the old +soldier, seemed to nerve him afresh and put new vigor into his limbs. He +proceeded, almost on a run, to Poindexter's house, and arrived just as +the funeral cortege was issuing from the door. And now happened a +strange thing. The young girl had been laid on an open bier, and was +being carried by six sturdy lads to her last resting place. As the +father's eye fell on her young body under its black pall, a cry of +mortal anguish escaped him, and he sank on his knees right in the line +of the procession. + +"At the same minute another cry went up, this time from behind the bier, +and John Poindexter could be seen reeling at the side of Felix +Cadwalader, who alone of all present (though he was the youngest and the +least) seemed to retain his self-possession at this painful moment. +Meanwhile the bereaved father, throwing himself at the side of the bier, +began tearing away at the pall in his desire to look upon the face of +her he had left in such rosy health four years before. But he was +stopped, not by Poindexter, who had vanished from the scene, but by +Felix, the cold, severe-looking boy who stood like a guard behind his +sister. Reaching out a hand so white it was in itself a shock, he laid +it in a certain prohibitory way on the pall, as if saying no. And when +his father would have continued the struggle, it was Felix who +controlled him and gradually drew him into the place at his own side +where a minute before the imposing figure of Poindexter had stood; after +which the bearers took up their burden again and moved on. + +"But the dramatic scene was not over. As they neared the churchyard +another procession, similar in appearance to their own, issued from an +adjoining street, and Evelyn's young lover, who had died almost +simultaneously with herself, was brought in and laid at her side. But +not in the same grave: this was noticed by all, though most eyes and +hearts were fixed upon Cadwalader, who had escaped his loathsome prison +and returned to the place of his affections for _this_. + +"Whether he grasped then and there the full meaning of this double +burial (young Kissam had shot himself upon hearing of Evelyn's death), +or whether all explanations were deferred till he and Felix walked away +together from the grave, has never transpired. From that minute till +they both left town on the following day, no one had any word with him, +save Poindexter, whom he went once to see, and young Kissam's mother, +who came once to see him. Like a phantom he had risen upon the sight of +the good people of Montgomery, and like a phantom he disappeared, never +to be seen by any of them again, unless, as many doubt, the story is +true which was told some twenty years ago by one of the little village +lads. He says (it was six years after the tragic scene I have just +related) that one evening as he was hurrying by the churchyard, in great +anxiety to reach home before it was too dark, he came upon the figure of +a man standing beside a grave, with a little child in his arms. This man +was tall, long-bearded, and terrifying. His attitude, as the lad +describes it, was one of defiance, if not of cursing. High in his right +hand he held the child, almost as if he would hurl him at the village +which lies under the hill on which the churchyard is perched; and though +the moment passed quickly, the boy, now a man, never has forgotten the +picture thus presented or admitted that it was anything but a real one. +As the description he gave of this man answered to the appearance of +Amos Cadwalader, and as the shoe of a little child was found next +morning on the grave of Cadwalader's daughter, Evelyn, it has been +thought by many that the boy really beheld this old soldier, who for +some mysterious reason had chosen nightfall for this fleeting visit to +his daughter's resting-place. But to others it was only a freak of the +lad's imagination, which had been much influenced by the reading of +romances. For, as these latter reasoned, had it really been Cadwalader, +why did he not show himself at John Poindexter's house--that old friend +who now had a little daughter and no wife and who could have made him so +comfortable? Among these was Poindexter himself, though some thought he +looked oddly while making this remark, as if he spoke more from custom +than from the heart. Indeed, since the unfortunate death of Evelyn in +his house, he had never shown the same interest in the Cadwaladers. But +then he was a man much occupied with great affairs, while the +Cadwaladers, except for their many griefs and misfortunes, were regarded +as comparatively insignificant people, unless we except Felix, who from +his earliest childhood had made himself feared even by grown people, +though he never showed a harsh spirit or exceeded the bounds of decorum +in speech or gesture. A year ago news came to Montgomery of Amos +Cadwalader's death, but no particulars concerning his family or burial +place. And that is all I have been able to glean concerning the +Cadwaladers." + +Mr. Gryce had again become thoughtful. + +"Have you any reason to believe that Evelyn's death was not a natural +one?" + +"No, sir. I interviewed the old mother of the young man who shot himself +out of grief at Evelyn's approaching death, and if any doubt had existed +concerning a matter which had driven her son to a violent end, she could +not have concealed it from me. But there seemed to have been none. +Evelyn Cadwalader was always of delicate health, and when a quick +consumption carried her off no one marvelled. Her lover, who adored her, +simply could not live without her, so he shot himself. There was no +mystery about the tragic occurrence except that it seemed to sever an +old friendship that once was firm as a rock. I allude to that between +the Poindexters and Cadwaladers." + +"Yet in this tragedy which has just occurred in ---- Street we see them +brought together again. Thomas Adams marries Eva Poindexter. But who is +Thomas Adams? You have not mentioned him in this history." + +"Not unless he was the child who was held aloft over Evelyn's grave." + +"Humph! That seems rather far-fetched. What did you learn about him in +Montgomery? Is he known there?" + +"As well as any stranger can be who spends his time in courting a young +girl. He came to Montgomery a few months ago, from some foreign +city--Paris, I think--and, being gifted with every personal charm +calculated to please a cultivated young woman, speedily won the +affections of Eva Poindexter, and also the esteem of her father. But +their favorable opinion is not shared by every one in the town. There +are those who have a good deal to say about his anxious and unsettled +eye." + +"Naturally; he could not marry all their daughters. But this history you +have given me: it is meagre, Sweetwater, and while it hints at something +deeply tragic, does not supply the key we want. A girl who died some +thirty years ago! A father who disappeared! A brother who, from being a +Cadwalader, has become an Adams! An Eva whose name, as well as that of +the long-buried Evelyn, was to be heard in constant repetition in the +place where the murdered Felix lay with those inscrutable lines in his +own writing, clinched between his teeth! It is a snarl, a perfect snarl, +of which we have as yet failed to pull the right thread. But we'll get +hold of it yet. I'm not going to be baffled in my old age by +difficulties I would have laughed at a dozen years ago." + +"But this right thread? How shall we know it among the fifty I see +entangled in this matter?" + +"First, find the whereabouts of this young couple--but didn't you tell +me you had done so; that you know where they are?" + +"Yes. I learned from the postmaster in Montgomery that a letter +addressed to Mrs. Thomas Adams had been sent from his post-office to +Belleville, Long Island." + +"Ah! I know that place." + +"And wishing to be assured that the letter was not a pretense, I sent a +telegram to the postmaster at Belleville. Here is his answer. It is +unequivocal: 'Mr. Poindexter of Montgomery, Pa. Mr. Thomas Adams and +Mrs. Adams of the same place have been at the Bedell House in this place +five days.'" + +"Very good; then we have them! Be ready to start for Belleville by one +o'clock sharp. And mind, Sweetwater, keep your wits alert and your +tongue still. Remember that as yet we are feeling our way blindfold, and +must continue to do so till some kind hand tears away the bandage from +our eyes. Go! I have a letter to write, for which you may send in a boy +at the end of five minutes." + +This letter was for Miss Butterworth, and created, a half-hour later, +quite a stir in the fine old mansion in Gramercy Park. It ran thus: + + Have you sufficient interest in the outcome of a certain matter to + take a short journey into the country? I leave town at 1 + P.M. for Belleville, Long Island. If you choose to do the + same, you will find me at the Bedell House, in that town, early in + the afternoon. If you enjoy novels, take one with you, and let me + see you reading it on the hotel piazza at five o'clock. I may be + reading too; if so, and my choice is a book, all is well, and you + may devour your story in peace. But if I lay aside my book and take + up a paper, devote but one eye to your story and turn the other on + the people who are passing you. If after you have done so, you + leave your book open, I shall understand that you fail to recognize + these persons. But if you shut the volume, you may expect to see me + also fold up my newspaper; for by so doing you will have signaled + me that you have identified the young man and woman you saw leaving + Mr. Adams's house on the fatal afternoon of your first entrance. E. + G. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +MISERY. + + +It is to be hoped that the well-dressed lady of uncertain age who was to +be seen late that afternoon in a remote corner of the hotel piazza at +Belleville had not chosen a tale requiring great concentration of mind, +for her eyes (rather fine ones in their way, showing both keenness and +good nature) seemed to find more to interest them in the scene before +her than in the pages she so industriously turned over. + +The scene was one calculated to interest an idle mind, no doubt. First, +there was the sea, a wide expanse of blue, dotted by numerous sails; +then the beach, enlivened by groups of young people dressed like +popinjays in every color; then the village street, and, lastly, a lawn +over which there now and then strayed young couples with tennis rackets +in their hands or golf sticks under their arms. Children, too--but +children did not seem to interest this amiable spinster. (There could be +no doubt about her being a spinster.) She scarcely glanced at them +twice, while a young married pair, or even an old gentleman, if he were +only tall and imperious-looking, invariably caused her eyes to wander +from her book, which, by the way, she held too near for seeing, or such +might have been the criticism of a wary observer. + +This criticism, if criticism it would be called, could not have been +made of the spruce, but rather feeble octogenarian at the other end of +the piazza. He was evidently absorbed in the novel he held so +conspicuously open, and which, from the smiles now and then disturbing +the usual placidity of his benevolent features, we can take for granted +was sufficiently amusing. Yet right in the midst of it, and certainly +before he had finished his chapter, he closed his book and took out a +newspaper, which he opened to its full width before sitting down to +peruse its columns. At the same moment the lady at the other end of the +piazza could be seen looking over her spectacles at two gentlemen who +just at that moment issued from the great door opening between her and +the elderly person just alluded to. Did she know them, or was it only +her curiosity that was aroused? From the way she banged together her +book and rose, it looked as if she had detected old acquaintances in the +distinguished-looking pair who were now advancing slowly toward her. But +if so, she could not have been overjoyed to see them, for after the +first hint of their approach in her direction she turned, with an aspect +of some embarrassment, and made her way out upon the lawn, where she +stood with her back to these people, caressing a small dog in a way that +betrayed her total lack of sympathy with these animals, which were +evidently her terror when she was sufficiently herself to be swayed by +her natural impulses. + +The two gentlemen, on the contrary, with an air of total indifference to +her proximity, continued their walk until they reached the end of the +piazza, and then turned and proceeded mechanically to retrace their +steps. + +Their faces now being brought within view of the elderly person who was +so absorbed in his newspaper, the latter shifted that sheet the merest +trifle, possibly because the sun struck his eyes too directly, possibly +because he wished to catch sight of two very remarkable men. If so, the +opportunity was good, as they stopped within a few feet of his chair. +One of them was elderly, as old as, if not older than, the man watching +him; but he was of that famous Scotch stock whose members are tough and +hale at eighty. This toughness he showed not only in his figure, which +was both upright and graceful, but in the glance of his calm, cold eye, +which fell upon everybody and everything unmoved, while that of his +young, but equally stalwart companion seemed to shrink with the most +acute sensitiveness from every person he met, save the very mild old +reader of news near whom they now paused for a half-dozen words of +conversation. + +"I don't think it does me any good," was the young man's gloomy remark. +"I am wretched when with her, and doubly wretched when I try to forget +myself for a moment out of her sight. I think we had better go back. I +had rather sit where she can see me than have her wonder--Oh, I will be +careful; but you must remember how unnerving is the very silence I am +obliged to keep about what is destroying us all. I am nearly as ill as +she." + +Here they drew off, and their apparently disinterested hearer turned the +page of his paper. It was five minutes before they came back. This time +it was the old gentleman who was speaking, and as he was more discreet +than his companion or less under the influence of his feelings, his +voice was lower and his words less easy to be distinguished. + +"Escape? South coast--she will forget to watch you for--a clinging +nature--impetuous, but foolishly affectionate--you know that--no +danger--found out--time--a cheerful home--courage--happiness--all +forgotten." + +A gesture from the young man as he moved away showed that he did not +share these hopes. Meanwhile Miss Butterworth--you surely have +recognized Miss Butterworth--had her opportunities too. She was still +stooping over the dog, which wriggled under her hand, yet did not offer +to run away, fascinated perhaps by that hesitating touch which he may or +may not have known had never inflicted itself upon a dog before. But her +ears, and attention, were turned toward two girls chatting on a bench +near her as freely as if they were quite alone on the lawn. They were +gossiping about a fellow-inmate of the big hotel, and Miss Butterworth +listened intently after hearing them mention the name Adams. These are +some of the words she caught: + +"But she is! I tell you she is sick enough to have a nurse and a doctor. +I caught a glimpse of her as I was going by her room yesterday, and I +never saw two such big eyes or such pale cheeks. Then, look at him! He +must just adore her, for he won't speak to another woman, and just moves +about in that small, hot room all day. I wonder if they are bride and +groom? They are young enough, and if you have noticed her clothes----" + +"Oh, don't talk about clothes. I saw her the first day she came, and was +the victim of despair until she suddenly got sick and so couldn't wear +those wonderful waists and jackets. I felt like a dowdy when I saw that +pale blue----" + +"Oh, well, blue becomes blondes. You would look like a fright in it. I +didn't care about her clothes, but I did feel that it was all up with us +if she chose to talk, or even to smile, upon the few men that are good +enough to stay out a week in this place. Yet she isn't a beauty; she has +not a good nose, nor a handsome eye, nor even an irreproachable +complexion. It must be her mouth, which is lovely, or her walk--did you +notice her walk? It was just as if she were floating; that is, before +she fell down in that faint. I wonder why she fainted. Nobody was doing +anything, not even her husband. But perhaps that was what troubled her. +I noticed that for some cause he was looking very serious--and when she +had tried to attract his attention two or three times and failed, she +just fell from her chair to the floor. That roused him. He has hardly +left her since." + +"I don't think they look very happy, do you, for so rich and handsome a +couple?" + +"Perhaps he is dissipated. I have noticed that the old gentleman never +leaves them." + +"Well, well, he may be dissipated; handsome men are very apt to be. But +I wouldn't care if----" + +Here the dog gave a yelp and bolted. Miss Butterworth had unconsciously +pinched him, in her indignation, possibly, at the turn these +rattle-pated young ladies' conversation was taking. This made a +diversion, and the young girls moved off, leaving Miss Butterworth +without occupation. But a young man who at that moment crossed her path +gave her enough to think about. + +"You recognize them? There is no mistake?" he whispered. + +"None; the one this way is the young man I saw leave Mr. Adams's house, +and the other is the old gentleman who came in afterward." + +"Mr. Gryce advises you to return home. He is going to arrest the young +man." And Sweetwater passed on. + +Miss Butterworth strolled to a seat and sat down. She felt weak; she +seemed to see that young wife, sick, overwhelmed, struggling with her +great fear, sink under this crushing blow, with no woman near her +capable of affording the least sympathy. The father did not impress her +as being the man to hold up her fainting head or ease her bruised heart. +He had an icy look under his polished exterior which repelled this +keen-eyed spinster, and as she remembered the coldness of his ways, she +felt herself seized by an irresistible impulse to be near this young +creature when the blow fell, if only to ease the tension of her own +heartstrings, which at that moment ached keenly over the part she had +felt herself obliged to play in this matter. + +But when she rose to look for Mr. Gryce, she found him gone; and upon +searching the piazza for the other two gentlemen, she saw them just +vanishing round the corner in the direction of a small smoking-room. As +she could not follow them, she went upstairs, and, meeting a maid in the +upper hall, asked for Mrs. Adams. She was told that Mrs. Adams was sick, +but was shown the door of her room, which was at the end of a long hall. +As all the halls terminated in a window under which a sofa was to be +found, she felt that circumstances were in her favor, and took her seat +upon the sofa before her in a state of great complacency. Instantly a +sweet voice was heard through the open transom of the door behind which +her thoughts were already concentrated. + +"Where is Tom? Oh, where is Tom? Why does he leave me? I'm afraid of +what he may be tempted to do or say down on those great piazzas alone." + +"Mr. Poindexter is with him," answered a voice, measured, but kind. "Mr. +Adams was getting very tired, and your father persuaded him to go down +and have a smoke." + +"I must get up; indeed I must get up. Oh! the camphor--the----" + +There was a bustle; this poor young wife had evidently fainted again. + +Miss Butterworth cast very miserable glances at the door. + +Meanwhile in that small and retired smoking-room a terrible scene was in +progress. The two gentlemen had lit their cigars and were sitting in +certain forced attitudes that evinced their non-enjoyment of the weed +each had taken out of complaisance to the other, when an old man, +strangely serious, strangely at home, yet as strangely a guest of the +house like themselves, came in, and shut the door behind him. + +"Gentlemen," he at once announced, "I am Detective Gryce of the New York +police, and I am here--but I see that one of you at least knows why I am +here." + +One? Both of them! This was evident in a moment. No denial, no +subterfuge was possible. At the first word uttered in the strange, +authoritative tone which old detectives acquire after years of such +experiences, the young man sank down in sudden collapse, while his +companion, without yielding so entirely to his emotions, showed that he +was not insensible to the blow which, in one moment, had brought +destruction to all their hopes. + +When Mr. Gryce saw himself so completely understood, he no longer +hesitated over his duty. Directing his full attention to Mr. Adams, he +said, this time with some feeling, for the misery of this young man had +impressed him: + +"You are wanted in New York by Coroner D----, whose business it is to +hold an inquest over the remains of Mr. Felix Adams, of whose +astonishing death you are undoubtedly informed. As you and your wife +were seen leaving that gentleman's house a few minutes before he +expired, you are naturally regarded as valuable witnesses in determining +whether his death was one of suicide or murder." + +It was an accusation, or so nearly one, that Mr. Gryce was not at all +surprised to behold the dark flush of shame displace the livid terror +which but an instant before had made the man before him look like one of +those lost spirits we sometimes imagine as flitting across the open +mouth of hell. But he said nothing, seemingly had no power to do so, and +his father-in-law was about to make some effort to turn aside this blow +when a voice in the hall outside was heard inquiring for Mr. Adams, +saying that his wife had fainted again and required his help. + +The young husband started, cast a look full of despair at Mr. +Poindexter, and thrusting his hand against the door as if to hold it +shut, sank on his knees before Mr. Gryce, saying: + +"She knows! She suspects! Her nature is so sensitive." + +This he managed to utter in gasps as the detective bent compassionately +over him. "Don't, don't disturb her! She is an angel, a saint from +heaven. Let me bear the blame--he was my brother--let me go with you, +but leave her in ignorance----" + +Mr. Gryce, with a vivid sense of justice, laid his hand on the young +man's arm. + +"Say nothing," he enjoined. "My memory is good, and I would rather hear +nothing from your lips. As for your wife, my warrant does in no way +include her; and if you promise to come with me quietly, I will even let +you bid her adieu, so that you do it in my presence." + +The change which passed over the young man's face at these significant +words was of a nature to surprise Mr. Gryce. Rising slowly, he took his +stand by Mr. Poindexter, who, true to his inflexible nature, had +scarcely moved in limb and feature since Mr. Gryce came in. + +"What have you against me?" he demanded. And there was a surprising ring +to his voice, as if courage had come with the necessity of the moment. +"Of what am I accused? I want you to tell me. I had rather you would +tell me in so many words. I cannot leave in peace until you do." + +Mr. Poindexter made a movement at this, and cast a half-suspicious, +half-warning glance at his son-in-law. But the young man took no notice +of his interference. He kept his eye on the detective, who quietly took +out his warrant. + +At this instant the door shook. + +"Lock it!" was the hoarse command of the accused man. "Don't let any one +pass that door, even if it is to bring the tidings of my wife's death." + +Mr. Gryce reached out his hand, and turned the key in the lock. Young +Adams opened the paper which he had taken from the detective's hand, and +while his blood-shot eyes vainly sought to master the few lines there +written, Mr. Poindexter attracted the attention of Mr. Gryce, and, +fixing him with his eye, formed his lips with three soundless words: + +"For murder? Him?" + +The detective's bow and a very long-drawn sigh from his son-in-law +answered him simultaneously. With a curious lift of his upper lip, which +showed his teeth somewhat unpleasantly for a moment, he drew back a +step, and sank into his previous immobility. + +"I am indebted to you," declared the young man. "Now I know where I +stand. I am quite ready to go with you and stand trial, if such be +deemed necessary by the officials in New York. You," he cried, turning +with almost an air of command to the old gentleman beside him, "will +watch over Eva. Not like a father, sir, but like a mother. You will be +at her side when she wakes, and, if possible, leave her only when she +sleeps. Do not let her suffer--not too much. No newspapers, no gossiping +women. Watch! watch! as I would watch, and when I come back--for I will +come back, will I not?" he appealed to Mr. Gryce, "my prayers will bless +you and----" A sob stuck in his throat, and he turned for a minute +aside; then he took the detective's arm quite calmly and remarked: + +"I do not want to say good-by to my wife. I cannot bear it. I had rather +go straight from here without another glance at her unconscious face. +When I have told my story, for I shall tell it to the first man who asks +me, I may find courage to write her. Meanwhile, get me away as quickly +as you can. Time enough for the world to know my shame to-morrow." + +Mr. Gryce tapped on the window overlooking the piazza. A young man +stepped in. + +"Here is a gentleman," he cried, "who finds himself forced to return in +great haste to New York. See that he gets to the train in time, without +fuss and without raising the least comment. I will follow with his +portmanteau. Mr. Poindexter, you are now at liberty to attend your +suffering daughter." And with a turn of the key, he unlocked the door, +and one of the most painful scenes of his long life was over. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THOMAS EXPLAINS. + + +Mr. Gryce was not above employing a little finesse. He had expressed his +intention of following Mr. Adams, and he did follow him, but so +immediately that he not only took the same train, but sat in the same +car. He wished to note at his leisure the bearing of this young man, who +interested him in quite a different way from what he had anticipated, a +way that vaguely touched his own conscience and made him feel his years +as he had no right to feel them when he had just brought to an end an +intricate and difficult pursuit. + +Seated at a distance, he watched with increasing interest the changes +which passed over his prisoner's handsome countenance. He noted the +calmness which now marked the features he had so lately seen writhing in +deepest agony, and wondered from what source the strength came which +enabled this young man to sit so stoically under the eyes of people from +whose regard, an hour before, he had shrunk with such apparent +suffering. Was it that courage comes with despair? Or was he too +absorbed in his own misery to note the shadow it cast about him? His +brooding brow and vacant eye spoke of a mind withdrawn from present +surroundings. Into what depths of remorse, who could say? Certainly not +this old detective, seasoned though he was by lifelong contact with +criminals, some of them of the same social standing and cultured aspect +as this young man. + +At the station in Brooklyn he rejoined his prisoner, who scarcely looked +up as he approached. In another hour they were at Police Headquarters +and the serious questioning of Mr. Adams had begun. + +He did not attempt to shirk it. Indeed, he seemed anxious to talk. He +had a burden on his mind, and longed to throw it off. But the burden was +not of the exact nature anticipated by the police. He did not +acknowledge having killed his brother, but confessed to having been the +incidental cause of that brother's death. The story he told was this: + +"My name is Cadwalader, not Adams. My father, a Scotchman by birth, was +a naturalized citizen of Pennsylvania, having settled in a place called +Montgomery when a young married man. He had two children then, one of +whom died in early life; the other was my brother Felix, whose violent +death under the name of Adams you have called me here to explain. I am +the fruit of a later marriage, entered into by my father some years +after leaving Montgomery. When I was born he was living in Harrisburg, +but, as he left there shortly after I had reached my third year, I have +no remembrances connected with that city. Indeed, my recollections are +all of very different scenes than this country affords. My mother having +died while I was still an infant, I was sent very early in life to the +Old World, from which my father had originally come. When I returned, +which was not till this very year, I found my father dying, and my +brother a grown man with money--a great deal of money--which I had been +led to think he was ready to share with me. But after my father was laid +away, Felix" (with what effort he uttered that name!) "Felix came to New +York, and I was left to wander about without settled hopes or any +definite promise of means upon which to base a future or start a career. +While wandering, I came upon the town where my father had lived in early +youth, and, hunting up his old friends, I met in the house of one who +had come over from Scotland with my father a young lady" (how his voice +shook, and with what a poignant accent he uttered that beloved name) "in +whom I speedily became interested to the point of wishing to marry her. +But I had no money, no business, no home to give her, and, as I was fain +to acknowledge, no prospects. Still I could not give up the hope of +making her my wife. So I wrote to my brother, Felix Cadwalader, or, +rather, Felix Adams, as he preferred to be called in later years for +family reasons entirely disconnected with the matter of his sudden +demise, and, telling him I had become interested in a young girl of good +family and some wealth, asked him to settle upon me a certain sum which +would enable me to marry her with some feeling of self-respect. My only +answer was a repetition of the vague promise he had thrown out before. +But youth is hopeful, even to daring, and I decided to make her mine +without further parley, in the hope that her beauty and endearing +qualities would win from him, at first view, the definite concession he +had so persistently denied me. + +"This I did, and the fault with which I have most to reproach myself is +that I entered into this alliance without taking her or her father into +my confidence. They thought me well off, possibly rich, and while Mr. +Poindexter is a man of means, I am sure, if he had known I had nothing +but the clothes I wore and the merest trifle in the way of pocket money, +he would have cried halt to the marriage, for he is a very ambitious man +and considers his daughter well worth a millionaire's devotion--as she +is. + +"Felix (you must pardon me if I show no affection for my brother--he was +a very strange man) was notified of my marriage, but did not choose to +witness it, neither did he choose to prohibit it; so it was conducted +quietly, with strangers for witnesses, in a hotel parlor. Then, with +vague hopes, as well as certain vague fears, I prepared to take my young +bride into the presence of my brother, who, hardened as he was by years +of bachelorhood, could not be so entirely impervious to feminine charms +as not to recognize my wife as a woman deserving of every consideration. + +"But I had counted without my host. When, two days after the ceremony +which had made us one, I took her to the house which has since become so +unhappily notorious, I found that my brother had but shown me one facet, +and that the least obdurate, of his many-sided nature. + +"Brilliant as steel, he was as hard, and not only professed himself +unmoved by my wife's many charms, but also as totally out of sympathy +with such follies as love and marriage, which were, he said, the fruit +of unoccupied minds and a pastime wholly unworthy of men boasting of +such talents and attainments as ourselves. Then he turned his back upon +us, and I, moved by an anger little short of frenzy, began an abuse for +which he was so little prepared that he crouched like a man under blows, +and, losing minute by minute his self-control, finally caught up a +dagger lying close at hand, and crying, 'You want my money? Well, then, +take it!' stabbed himself to the heart with one desperate blow. + +"I fear I shall not be believed, but that is the story of this crime, +gentlemen." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +DESPAIR. + + +Was it? Tragedies as unpremeditated as this had doubtless occurred, and +inconsistencies in character shown themselves in similar impetuosities, +from the beginning of time up till now. Yet there was not a man present, +with or without the memory of Bartow's pantomime, which, as you will +recall, did not tally at all with this account of Mr. Adams's violent +end, who did not show in a greater or less degree his distrust and +evident disbelief in this tale, poured out with such volubility before +them. + +The young man, gifted as he was with the keenest susceptibilities, +perceived this, and his head drooped. + +"I shall add nothing to and take nothing from what I have said," was his +dogged remark. "Make of it what you will." + +The inspector who was conducting the inquiry glanced dubiously at Mr. +Gryce as these words left Thomas Adams's lips; whereupon the detective +said: + +"We are sorry you have taken such a resolution. There are many things +yet left to be explained, Mr. Adams; for instance, why, if your brother +slew himself in this unforeseen manner, you left the house so +precipitately, without giving an alarm or even proclaiming your +relationship to him?" + +"You need not answer, you know," the inspector's voice broke in. "No man +is called upon to incriminate himself in this free and independent +country." + +A smile, the saddest ever seen, wandered for a minute over the +prisoner's pallid lips. Then he lifted his head and replied with a +certain air of desperation: + +"Incrimination is not what I fear now. From the way you all look at me I +perceive that I am lost, for I have no means of proving my story." + +This acknowledgment, which might pass for the despairing cry of an +innocent man, made his interrogator stare. + +"You forget," suggested that gentleman, "that you had your wife with +you. She can corroborate your words, and will prove herself, no doubt, +an invaluable witness in your favor." + +"My wife!" he repeated, choking so that his words could be barely +understood. "Must she be dragged into this--so sick, so weak a woman? It +would kill her, sir. She loves me--she----" + +"Was she with you in Mr. Adams's study? Did she see him lift the dagger +against his own breast?" + +"No." And with this denial the young man seemed to take new courage. +"She had fainted several moments previously, while the altercation +between my brother and myself was at its height. She did not see the +final act, and--gentlemen, I might as well speak the truth (I have +nothing to gain by silence), she finds it as difficult as you do to +believe that Mr. Adams struck himself. I--I have tried with all my arts +to impress the truth upon her, but oh, what can I hope from the world +when the wife of my bosom--an angel, too, who loves me--oh, sirs, she +can never be a witness for me; she is too conscientious, too true to her +own convictions. I should lose--she would die----" + +Mr. Gryce tried to stop him; he would not be stopped. + +"Spare me, sirs! Spare my wife! Write me down guilty, anything you +please, rather than force that young creature to speak----" + +Here the inspector cut short these appeals which were rending every +heart present. "Have you read the newspapers for the last few days?" he +asked. + +"I? Yes, yes, sir. How could I help it? Blood is blood; the man was my +brother; I had left him dying--I was naturally anxious, naturally saw my +own danger, and I read them, of course." + +"Then you know he was found with a large cross on his breast, a cross +which was once on the wall. How came it to be torn down? Who put it on +his bosom?" + +"I, sir. I am not a Catholic but Felix was, and seeing him dying without +absolution, without extreme unction, I thought of the holy cross, and +tore down the only one I saw, and placed it in his arms." + +"A pious act. Did he recognize it?" + +"I cannot say. I had my fainting wife to look after. She occupied all my +thoughts." + +"I see, and you carried her out and were so absorbed in caring for her +you did not observe Mr. Adams's valet----" + +"He's innocent, sir. Whatever people may think, he had nothing to do +with this crime----" + +"You did not observe him, I say, standing in the doorway and watching +you?" + +Now the inspector knew that Bartow had not been standing there, but at +the loophole above; but the opportunity for entrapping the witness was +too good to lose. + +Mr. Adams was caught in the trap, or so one might judge from the beads +of perspiration which at that moment showed themselves on his pale +forehead. But he struggled to maintain the stand he had taken, crying +hotly: + +"But that man is crazy, and deaf-and-dumb besides! or so the papers give +out. Surely his testimony is valueless. You would not confront me with +him?" + +"We confront you with no one. We only asked you a question. You did not +observe the valet, then?" + +"No, sir." + +"Or understand the mystery of the colored lights?" + +"No, sir." + +"Or of the plate of steel and the other contrivances with which your +brother enlivened his solitude?" + +"I do not follow you, sir." But there was a change in his tone. + +"I see," said the inspector, "that the complications which have +disturbed us and made necessary this long delay in the collection of +testimony have not entered into the crime as described by you. Now this +is possible; but there is still a circumstance requiring explanation; a +little circumstance, which is, nevertheless, one of importance, since +your wife mentioned it to you as soon as she became conscious. I allude +to the half dozen or more words which were written by your brother +immediately preceding his death. The paper on which they were written +has been found, and that it was a factor in your quarrel is evident, +since she regretted that it had been left behind you, and he--Do you +know where we found this paper?" + +The eyes which young Adams raised at this interrogatory had no +intelligence in them. The sight of this morsel of paper seemed to have +deprived him in an instant of all the faculties with which he had been +carrying on this unequal struggle. He shook his head, tried to reach out +his hand, but failed to grasp the scrap of paper which the inspector +held out. Then he burst into a loud cry: + +"Enough! I cannot hold out, with no other support than a wicked lie. I +killed my brother for reasons good as any man ever had for killing +another. But I shall not impart them. I would rather be tried for murder +and hanged." + +It was a complete breakdown, pitiful from its contrast with the man's +herculean physique and fine, if contracted, features. If the end, it was +a sad end, and Mr. Gryce, whose forehead had taken on a deep line +between the eyebrows, slowly rose and took his stand by the young man, +who looked ready to fall. The inspector, on the contrary, did not move. +He had begun a tattoo with his fingers on the table, and seemed bound to +beat it out, when another sudden cry broke from the young man's lips: + +"What is that?" he demanded, with his eyes fixed on the door, and his +whole frame shaking violently. + +"Nothing," began the inspector, when the door suddenly opened and the +figure of a woman white as a wraith and wonderful with a sort of holy +passion darted from the grasp of a man who sought to detain her, and +stood before them, palpitating with a protest which for a moment she +seemed powerless to utter. + +It was Adams's young, invalid wife, whom he had left three hours before +at Belleville. She was so frail of form, so exquisite of feature, that +she would have seemed some unearthly visitant but for the human anguish +which pervaded her look and soon found vent in this touching cry: + +"What is he saying? Oh, I know well what he is saying. He is saying that +he killed his brother, that he held the dagger which rid the world of a +monster of whose wickedness none knew. But you must not heed him. Indeed +you must not heed him. He is innocent; I, his wife, have come twenty +miles, from a bed of weakness and suffering, to tell you so. He----" + +But here a hand was laid gently, but firmly on her mouth. She looked up, +met her husband's eyes filled with almost frantic appeal, and giving him +a look in return that sank into the heart of every man who beheld it, +laid her own hand on his and drew it softly away. + +"It is too late, Tom, I must speak. My father, my own weakness, or your +own peremptory commands could not keep me at Belleville when I knew you +had been brought here. And shall I stop now, in the presence of these +men who have heard your words and may believe them? No, that would be a +cowardice unworthy of our love and the true lives we hope to lead +together. Sirs!" and each man there held his breath to catch the words +which came in faint and fainter intonation from her lips, "I know my +husband to be innocent, because the hand that held the dagger was mine. +I killed Felix Cadwalader!" + + * * * * * + +The horror of such a moment is never fully realized till afterward. Not +a man there moved, not even her husband, yet on every cheek a slow +pallor was forming, which testified to the effect of such words from +lips made for smiles and showing in every curve the habit of gentle +thought and the loftiest instincts. Not till some one cried out from the +doorway, "Catch her! she is falling!" did any one stir or release the +pent-up breath which awe and astonishment had hitherto held back on +every lip. Then he in whose evident despair all could read the real +cause of the great dread which had drawn him into a false confession, +sprang forward, and with renewed life showing itself in every feature, +caught her in his arms. As he staggered with her to a sofa and laid her +softly down, he seemed another man in look and bearing; and Mr. Gryce, +who had been watching the whole wonderful event with the strongest +interest, understood at once the meaning of the change which had come +over his prisoner at that point in his memorable arrest when he first +realized that it was for himself they had come, and not for the really +guilty person, the idolized object of his affections. + +Meanwhile, he was facing them all, with one hand laid tenderly on that +unconscious head. + +"Do not think," he cried, "that because this young girl has steeped her +hand in blood, she is a wicked woman. There is no purer heart on earth +than hers, and none more worthy of the worship of a true man. See! she +killed my brother, son of my father, beloved by my mother, yet I can +kiss her hand, kiss her forehead, her eyes, her feet, not because I hate +him, but because I worship her, the purest--the best----" He left her, +and came and stood before those astonished men. "Sirs!" he cried, "I +must ask you to listen to a strange, a terrible tale." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +MEMORANDA. + + +"It is like and unlike what I have just related to you," began young +Adams. "In my previous confession I mixed truth and falsehood, and to +explain myself fully and to help you to a right understanding of my +wife's act, I shall have to start afresh and speak as if I had already +told you nothing." + +"Wait!" cried Mr. Gryce, in an authoritative manner. "We will listen to +you presently;" and, leaning over the inspector, he whispered a few +words, after which he took out a pencil and jotted down certain +sentences, which he handed over to this gentleman. + +As they had the appearance of a memorandum, and as the inspector glanced +more than once at them while Mr. Adams (or Cadwalader, as he should now +rightfully be called) was proceeding with his story, I will present them +to you as written. + +Points to be made clear by Mr. Adams in his account of this crime: + +1. Why a woman who was calm enough to stop and arrange her hair during +the beginning of an interview should be wrought up to such a pitch of +frenzy and exasperation before it was over as to kill with her own hand +a man against whom she had evidently no previous grudge. (Remember the +comb found on the floor of Mr. Adams's bedroom.) + +2. What was the meaning of the following words, written just previous to +this interview by the man thus killed: "I return you your daughter. +Neither you nor she shall ever see me again. Remember Evelyn!" + +3. Why was the pronoun "I" used in this communication? What position did +Mr. Felix Adams hold toward this young girl qualifying him to make use +of such language after her marriage to his brother? + +4. And having used it, why did he, upon being attacked by her, attempt +to swallow the paper upon which he had written these words, actually +dying with it clinched between his teeth? + +5. If he was killed in anger and died as monsters do (her own word), why +did his face show sorrow rather than hate, and a determination as far as +possible removed from the rush of over-whelming emotions likely to follow +the reception of a mortal blow from the hand of an unexpected +antagonist? + +6. Why, if he had strength to seize the above-mentioned paper and convey +it to his lips, did he not use that strength in turning on a light +calculated to bring him assistance, instead of leaving blazing the +crimson glow which, according to the code of signals as now understood +by us, means: "Nothing more required just now. Keep away." + +7. What was the meaning of the huge steel plate found between the +casings of the doorway, and why did it remain at rest within its socket +at this, the culminating moment of his life? + +8. An explanation of how old Poindexter came to appear on the scene so +soon after the event. His words as overheard were: "It is Amos's son, +not Amos!" Did he not know whom he was to meet in this house? Was the +condition of the man lying before him with a cross on his bosom and a +dagger in his heart less of a surprise to him than the personality of +the victim? + +9. Remember the conclusions we have drawn from Bartow's pantomime. Mr. +Adams was killed by a left-handed thrust. Watch for an acknowledgment +that the young woman is left-handed, and do not forget that an +explanation is due why for so long a time she held her other arm +stretched out behind her. + +10. Why did the bird whose chief cry is "Remember Evelyn!" sometimes +vary it with "Poor Eva! Lovely Eva! Who would strike Eva?" The story of +this tragedy, to be true, must show that Mr. Adams knew his brother's +bride both long and well. + +11. If Bartow is, as we think, innocent of all connection with this +crime save as witness, why does he show such joy at its result? This may +not reasonably be expected to fall within the scope of Thomas Adams's +confession, but it should not be ignored by us. This deaf-and-dumb +servitor was driven mad by a fact which caused him joy. Why? + +12. Notice the following schedule. It has been drawn up after repeated +experiments with Bartow and the various slides of the strange lamp which +cause so many different lights to shine out in Mr. Adams's study: + + White light--Water wanted. + Green light--Overcoat and hat to be brought. + Blue light--Put back books on shelves. + Violet light--Arrange study for the night. + Yellow light--Watch for next light. + Red light--Nothing wanted; stay away. + +The last was on at the final scene. Note if this fact can be explained +by Mr. Adams's account of the same. + +With these points in our mind, let us peruse the history of this crime +and of the remote and possibly complicated causes which led to it. + + + + +BOOK II + +REMEMBER EVELYN + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE SECRET OF THE CADWALADERS. + + +Thomas Cadwalader suggested rather than told his story. We dare not +imitate him in this, nor would it be just to your interest to relate +these facts with all the baldness and lack of detail imposed upon this +unhappy man by the hurry and anxiety of the occasion. Remarkable +tragedies have their birth in remarkable facts, and as such facts are +but the outcome of human passions, we must enter into those passions if +we would understand either the facts or their appalling consequences. In +this case, the first link of the chain which led to Felix Adams's +violent death was forged before the birth of the woman who struck him. +We must begin, then, with almost forgotten days, and tell the story, as +her pleader did, from the standpoint of Felix and Thomas Cadwalader. + +Thomas Cadwalader--now called Adams--never knew his mother; she died in +his early infancy. Nor could he be said to have known his father, having +been brought up in France by an old Scotch lawyer, who, being related to +his mother, sometimes spoke of her, but never of his father, till Thomas +had reached his fifteenth year. Then he put certain books into his +hands, with this remarkable injunction: + +"Here are romances, Thomas. Read them; but remember that none of them, +no matter how thrilling in matter or effect, will ever equal the story +of your father's bitterly wronged and suffering life." + +"My father!" he cried; "tell me about him; I have never heard." + +But his guardian, satisfied with an allusion which he knew must bear +fruit in the extremely susceptible nature of this isolated boy, said no +more that day, and Thomas turned to the books. But nothing after that +could ever take his mind away from his father. He had scarcely thought +of him for years, but now that that father had been placed before him in +the light of a wronged man, he found himself continually hunting back in +the deepest recesses of his memory for some long-forgotten recollection +of that father's features calculated to restore his image to his eyes. +Sometimes he succeeded in this, or thought he did; but this image, if +image it was, was so speedily lost in a sensation of something strange +and awe-compelling enveloping it, that he found himself more absorbed by +the intangible impressions associated with this memory than by the +memory itself. What were these impressions, and in what had they +originated? In vain he tried to determine. They were as vague as they +were persistent. A stretch of darkness--two bars of orange light, always +shining, always the same--black lines against these bars, like the tops +of distant gables--an inner thrill--a vague affright--a rush about him +as of a swooping wind--all this came with his father's image, only to +fade away with it, leaving him troubled, uneasy, and perplexed. Finding +these impressions persistent, and receiving no explanation of them in +his own mind, he finally asked his guardian what they meant. But that +guardian was as ignorant as himself on this topic; and satisfied with +having roused the boy's imagination, confined himself to hints, dropped +now and then with a judiciousness which proved the existence of a +deliberate purpose, of some duty which awaited him on the other side of +the water, a duty which would explain his long exile from his only +parent and for which he must fit himself by study and the acquirement of +such accomplishments as render a young man a positive power in society, +whether that society be of the Old World or the New. He showed his +shrewdness in thus dealing with this pliable and deeply affectionate +nature. From this time forth Thomas felt himself leading a life of +mystery and interest. + +To feel himself appointed for a work whose unknown character only +heightened its importance gave point to every effort now made by this +young man, and lent to his studies that vague touch of romance which +made them a delight, and him an adept in many things he might otherwise +have cared little about. At eighteen he was a graduate from the +Sorbonne, and a musical virtuoso as well. He could fence, ride, and +carry off the prize in games requiring physical prowess as well as +mental fitness. He was, in fact, a prodigy in many ways, and was so +considered by his fellow-students. He, however, was not perfect; he +lacked social charm, and in so far failed of being the complete +gentleman. This he was made to realize in the following way: + +One morning his guardian came to him with a letter from his father, in +which, together with some words of commendation for his present +attainments, that father expressed a certain dissatisfaction with his +general manner as being too abrupt and self-satisfied with those of his +own sex, and much too timid and deprecatory with those of the other. +Thomas felt the criticism and recognized its justice; but how had his +father, proved by his letter to be no longer a myth, become acquainted +with defects which Thomas instinctively felt could never have attracted +the attention of his far from polished guardian? + +His questions on this point elicited a response that confounded him. He +was not the only son of his father; he had a brother living, and this +brother, older than himself by some twenty years or more, had just been +in Paris, where, in all probability, he had met him, talked with him, +and perhaps pressed his hand. + +It was a discovery calculated to deepen the impression already made upon +Thomas's mind. Only a purpose of the greatest importance could account +for so much mystery. What could it be? What was he destined to do or say +or be? He was not told, but while awaiting enlightenment he was resolved +not to be a disappointment to the two anxious souls who watched his +career so eagerly and exacted from him such perfection. He consequently +moderated his manner, and during the following year acquired by constant +association with the gilded youth about him that indescribable charm of +the perfect gentleman which he was led to believe would alone meet with +the approval of those he now felt bound to please. At the end of the +year he found himself a finished man of the world. How truly so, he +began to realize when he noted the blush with which his presence was +hailed by women and the respect shown him by men of his own stamp. In +the midst of the satisfaction thus experienced his guardian paid him a +final visit. + +"You are now ready," said he, "for your father's summons. It will come +in a few weeks. Be careful, then. Form no ties you cannot readily break; +for, once recalled from France, you are not likely to return here. What +your father's purpose concerning you may be I do not know, but it is no +ordinary one. You will have money, a well-appointed home, family +affection, all that you have hitherto craved in vain, and in return you +will carry solace to a heart which has awaited your healing touch for +twenty years. So much I am ordered to say; the rest you will hear from +your father's own lips." + +Aroused, encouraged, animated by the wildest hopes, the most extravagant +anticipations, Thomas awaited his father's call with feverish +impatience, and when it came, hastened to respond to it by an immediate +voyage to America. This was some six months previous to the tragedy in +---- Street. On his arrival at the wharf in New York he was met, not by +his brother, as he had every reason to expect, but by a messenger in +whose face evil tidings were apparent before he spoke. Thomas was soon +made acquainted with them. His father, who he now learned was called +Cadwalader (he himself had always been called Adams), was ill, possibly +dying. He must therefore hasten, and, being provided with minute +instructions as to his way, took the train at once for a small village +in northern Pennsylvania. + +All that followed was a dream to him. He was hurried through the night, +with the motion of the ship still in his blood, to meet--what? He dared +not think. He swam in a veritable nightmare. Then came a stop, a +hurrying from the train, a halt on a platform reeking with rain (for the +night was stormy), a call from some one to hurry, the sight of a panting +horse steaming under a lamp whose blowing flame he often woke in after +nights to see, a push from a persuasive hand, then a ride over a country +road the darkness of which seemed impenetrable, and, finally, the +startling vision of an open door, with a Meg Merrilies of a woman +standing in it, holding a flaming candle in her hand. The candle went +out while he looked at it, and left only a voice to guide him--a voice +which, in tones shaken by chill or feeling, he could not tell which, +cried eagerly: + +"Is that you, laddie? Come awa in. Come awa in. Dinna heed the rain. The +maister's been crying on you a' day. I'm glad you're no ower late." + +He got down, followed the voice, and, stumbling up a step or two, +entered a narrow door, which was with difficulty held open behind him, +and which swung to with a loud noise the minute he crossed the +threshold. This or the dreariness of the place in which he found himself +disturbed him greatly. Bare floors, stained walls, meagre doorways, and +a common pine staircase, lighted only by the miserable candle which the +old woman had relit--were these the appointments of the palatial home he +had been led to expect? These the surroundings, this the abode of him +who had exacted such perfection on his part, and to satisfy whose +standard he had devoted years of hourly, daily effort, in every +department of art and science? A sickening revolt seized him, aggravated +by the smiles of the old woman, who dipped and courtesied before him in +senile delight. She may have divined his feelings, for, drawing him +inside, she relieved him of his overcoat, crying all the while, with an +extravagant welcome more repulsive than all the rest: + +"O the fine laddie! Wad your puir mither could see you the noo! Bonnie +and clever! No your faither's bairn ava! All mither, laddie, all +mither!" + +The room was no better than the hall. + +"Where is my father?" he asked, authoritatively, striving to keep down +his strong repugnance. + +"Dinna ye hear him? He's crying on ye. Puir man, he's wearying to see +ye." + +Hear him? He could scarcely hear her. The driving rain, the swish of +some great boughs against the house, the rattling of casements and +doors, and the shrieking of wind in the chimney made all other sounds +wellnigh inaudible. Yet as he listened he seemed to catch the accents of +a far-off voice calling, now wistfully, now imperatively, "Thomas! +Thomas!" And, thrilled with an emotion almost superstitious in its +intensity, he moved hastily toward the staircase. + +But the old woman was there before him. "Na! Na!" she cried. "Come in by +and eat something first." + +But Thomas shook his head. It seemed to him at that moment as if he +never could eat or sleep again, the disillusion was so bitter, his +disappointment so keen. + +"You will na? Then haste ye--haste ye. But it's a peety you wadna ha'e +eaten something. Ye'll need it, laddie; ye'll need it." + +"Thomas! Thomas!" wailed the voice. + +He tore himself away. He forced himself to go upstairs, following the +cry, which at every moment grew louder. At the top he cast a final +glance below. The old woman stood at the stair-foot, shading the candle +from the draught with a hand that shook with something more than age. +She was gazing after him in vague affright, and with the shadow of this +fear darkening her weazen face, formed a picture from which he was glad +to escape. + +Plunging on, he found himself before a window whose small panes dripped +and groaned under a rain that was fast becoming a torrent. Chilled by +the sight, he turned toward the door faintly outlined beside it, and in +the semi-darkness seized an old-fashioned latch rattling in the wind +that permeated every passageway, and softly raised it. + +Instantly the door fell back, and two eyes blazing with fever and that +fire of the soul of which fever is the mere physical symbol greeted him +from the midst of a huge bed drawn up against the opposite wall. Then +two arms rose, and the moaning cry of "Thomas! Thomas!" changed to a +shout, and he knew himself to be in the presence of his father. + +Falling on his knees in speechless emotion, he grasped the wasted hands +held out to him. Such a face, rugged though it was and far from +fulfilling the promise held out to him in his dreams, could not but move +any man. As he gazed into it and pressed the hands in which the life +blood only seemed to linger for this last, this only embrace, all his +filial instincts were aroused and he forgot the common surroundings, the +depressing rain, his own fatigue and bitter disappointment, in his +lifelong craving for love and family recognition. + +But the old man on whose breast he fell showed other emotions than those +by which he was himself actuated. It was not an embrace he craved, but +an opportunity to satisfy an almost frenzied curiosity as to the +appearance and attributes of the son who had grown to manhood under +other eyes. Pushing him gently back, he bade him stand in the light of +the lamp burning on a small pine table, and surveyed him, as it were, +from the verge of his own fast failing life, with moans of mingled pain +and weariness, amid which Thomas thought he heard the accents of a +supreme satisfaction. + +Meanwhile in Thomas himself, as he stood there, the sense of complete +desolation filled his breast almost to bursting. To have come home for +this! To find a father only to be weighed in the scales of that father's +judgment! To be admired, instead of loved! + +As he realized his position and listened to the shrieking of the wind +and rain, he felt that the wail of the elements but echoed the cry of +his own affections, thus strangled in their birth. Indeed the sensations +of that moment made so deep an impression upon him that he was never +afterward able to hear a furious gust of wind or rain without the +picture rising up before him of this great hollow room, with the +trembling figure of his father struggling in the grasp of death and +holding it at bay, while he gauged with worldly wisdom the physical, +mental, and moral advantages of the son so long banished and so lately +restored to his arms. + +A rush of impetuous words followed by the collapse of his father's form +upon the pillow showed that the examination was over. Rushing forward, +he grasped again that father's hands, but soon shrank back, stunned by +what he heard and the prospect it opened before him. A few of his +father's words will interpret the rest. They came in a flood, and among +others Thomas caught these: + +"The grace of God be thanked! Our efforts have not failed. Handsome, +strong, noble in look and character, we could ask nothing more, hope for +nothing more. My revenge will succeed! John Poindexter will find that he +has a heart, and that that heart can be wrung. I do not need to live to +see it. For me it exists now; it exists here!" And he struck his breast +with hands that seemed to have reserved their last strength for this +supreme gesture. + +John Poindexter! Who was he? It was a new name to Thomas. Venturing to +say so, he reeled under the look he received from his father's eyes. + +"You do not know who John Poindexter is, and what he has done to me and +mine? They have kept their promise well, too well, but God will accord +me strength to tell you what has been left unsaid by them. He would not +bring me up to this hour to let me perish before you have heard the +story destined to make you the avenger of innocence upon that enemy of +your race. Listen, Thomas. With the hand of death encircling my heart, I +speak, and if the story find you cold--But it will not. Your name is +Cadwalader, and it will not." + +Constrained by passions such as he had never imagined even in dreams, +Thomas fell upon his knees. He could not listen otherwise. His father, +gasping for breath, fixed him with his hollow eyes, in which the last +flickering flames of life flared up in fitful brightness. + +"Thomas"--the pause was brief--"you are not my only child." + +"I know it," fell from Thomas's white lips. "I have a brother; his name +is Felix." + +The father shook his head with a look suggestive of impatience. + +"Not him! Not him!" he cried. "A sister! a sister, who died before you +were born--beautiful, good, with a voice like an angel's and a +heart--she should be standing by my side to-day, and she would have been +if--if he--but none of that. I have no breath to waste. Facts, facts, +just facts! Afterward may come emotions, hatred, denunciation, not now. +This is my story, Thomas. + +"John Poindexter and I were friends. From boyhood we shared each other's +bed, food, and pleasures, and when he came to seek his fortune in +America I accompanied him. He was an able man, but cold. I was of an +affectionate nature, but without any business capacity. As proof of +this, in fifteen years he was rich, esteemed, the master of a fine +house, and the owner of half a dozen horses; while I was the same nobody +I had been at first, or would have been had not Providence given me two +beautiful children and blessed, or rather cursed, me with the friendship +of this prosperous man. When Felix was fourteen and Evelyn three years +older, their mother died. Soon after, the little money I had vanished in +an unfortunate enterprise, and life began to promise ill, both for +myself and for my growing children. John Poindexter, who was honest +enough then, or let me hope so, and who had no children of his own, +though he had been long married, offered to take one of mine to educate. +But I did not consent to this till the war of the rebellion broke out; +then I sent him both son and daughter, and went into the army. For four +years I fought for the flag, suffering all that a man can suffer and +live, and being at last released from Libby Prison, came home with a +heart full of gratitude and with every affection keyed up by a long +series of unspeakable experiences, to greet my son and clasp once more +within my wasted arms the idolized form of my deeply loved daughter. +What did I find? A funeral in the streets--hers--and Felix, your +brother, walking like a guard between her speechless corpse and the man +under whose protection I had placed her youth and innocence. + +"Betrayed!" shrieked the now frenzied parent, rising on his pillow. "Her +innocence! Her sweetness! And he, cold as the stone we laid upon her +grave, had seen her perish with the anguish and shame of it, without a +sign of grief or a word of contrition." + +"O God!" burst from lips the old man was watching with frenzied cunning. + +"Ay, God!" repeated the father, shaking his head as if in defiance +before he fell back on his pillow. "He allowed it and I--But this does +not tell the story. I must keep to facts as Felix did--Felix, who was +but fifteen years old and yet found himself the only confidant and +solace of this young girl betrayed by her protector. It was after her +burial----" + +"Cease!" cried a voice, smooth, fresh, and yet strangely commanding, +from over Thomas's shoulder. "Let me tell the rest. No man can tell the +rest as I can." + +"Felix!" ejaculated Amos Cadwalader below his breath. + +"Felix!" repeated Thomas, shaken to his very heart by this new presence. +But when he sought to rise, to turn, he felt the pressure of a hand on +his shoulder and heard that voice again, saying softly, but +peremptorily: + +"Wait! Wait till you hear what I have to say. Think not of me, think +only of her. It is she you are called upon to avenge; your sister, +Evelyn." + +Thomas yielded to him as he had to his father. He sank down beneath that +insistent hand, and his brother took up the tale. + +"Evelyn had a voice like a bird. In those days before father's return, +she used to fill old John Poindexter's house with melody. I, who, as a +boy, was studious, rather than artistic, thought she sang too much for a +girl whose father was rotting away in a Southern prison. But when about +to rebuke her, I remembered Edward Kissam, and was silent. For it was +his love which made her glad, and to him I wished every happiness, for +he was good, and honest, and kind to me. She was eighteen then, and +beautiful, or so I was bound to believe, since every man looked at her, +even old John Poindexter, though he never looked at any other woman, not +even his own wife. And she was good, too, and pure, I swear, for her +blue eyes never faltered in looking into mine until one day when--my +God! how well I remember it!--they not only faltered, but shrank before +me in such terror, that, boy though I was, I knew that something +terrible, something unprecedented had happened, and thinking my one +thought, I asked if she had received bad news from father. Her answer +was a horrified moan, but it might have been a shriek. 'Our father! Pray +God we may never see him or hear from him again. If you love him, if you +love me, pray he may die in prison rather than return here to see me as +I am now.' + +"I thought she had gone mad, and perhaps she had for a moment; for at my +look of startled distress a change took place in her. She remembered my +youth, and laughing, or trying to laugh away her frenzy, uttered some +hurried words I failed to understand, and then, sinking at my knee, laid +her head against my side, crying that she was not well; that she had +experienced for a long time secret pains and great inward distress, and +that she sometimes feared she was not going to live long, for all her +songs and merry ways and seeming health and spirits. + +"'Not live, Evelyn?' It was an inconceivable thought to me, a boy. I +looked at her, and seeing how pale, how incomprehensibly pale she was, +my heart failed me, for nothing but mortal sickness could make such a +change in any one in a week, in a day. Yet how could death reach her, +loved as she was by Edward, by her father, and by me. Thinking to rouse +her, I spoke the former's name. But it was the last word I should have +uttered. Crouching as if I had given her a blow, she put her two hands +out, shrieking faintly: 'Not that! Never that! Do not speak his name. +Let me never hear of him or see him again. I am dead--do you not +understand me?--dead to all the world from this day--except to you!' she +suddenly sobbed, 'except to you!' And still I did not comprehend her. +But when I understood, as I soon did, that no mention was to be made of +her illness; that her door was to be shut and no one allowed to enter, +not even Mrs. Poindexter or her guardian--least of all, her guardian--I +began to catch the first intimation of that horror which was to end my +youth and fill my whole after life with but one thought--revenge. But I +said nothing, only watched and waited. Seeing that she was really ill, I +constituted myself her nurse, and sat by her night and day till her +symptoms became so alarming that the whole household was aroused and we +could no longer keep the doctor from her. Then I sat at her door, and +with one ear turned to catch her lightest moan, listened for the step +she most dreaded, but which, though it sometimes approached, never +passed the opening of the hall leading to her chamber. For one whole +week I sat there, watching her life go slowly out like a flame, with +nothing to feed it; then as the great shadow fell, and life seemed +breaking up within me, I dashed from the place, and confronting him +where I found him walking, pale and disturbed, in his own hall, told him +that my father was coming; that I had had a dream, and in that dream I +had seen my father with his face turned toward this place. Was he +prepared to meet him? Had he an answer ready when Amos Cadwalader should +ask him what had become of his child? + +"I had meant to shock the truth from this man, and I did so. As I +mentioned my father's name, Poindexter blanched, and my fears became +certainty. Dropping my youthful manner, for I was a boy no longer, I +flung his crime in his face, and begged him to deny it if he could. He +could not, but he did what neither he nor any other man could do in my +presence now and live--he smiled. Then when he saw me crouching for a +spring--for, young as I was, I knew but one impulse, and that was to fly +at his throat--he put out his powerful hand, and pinning me to the +ground, uttered a few short sentences in my ear. + +"They were terrible ones. They made me see that nothing I might then do +could obliterate the fact that she was lost if the world knew what I +knew, or even so much as suspected it; that any betrayal on my part or +act of contrition on his would only pile the earth on her innocent +breast and sink her deeper and deeper into the grave she was then +digging for herself; that all dreams were falsities; that Southern +prisons seldom gave up their victims alive; and that if my father should +escape the jaws of Libby and return, it was for me to be glad if he +found a quiet grave instead of a dishonored daughter. Further, that if I +crossed him, who was power itself, by any boyish exhibition of hate, I +would find that any odium I might invoke would fall on her and not on +him, making me an abhorrence, not only to the world at large, but to the +very father in whose interest I might pretend to act. + +"I was young and without worldly experience. I yielded to these +arguments, but I cursed him where he stood. With his hand pressing +heavily upon me, I cursed him to his face; then I went back to my +sister. + +"Had she, by some supernatural power, listened to our talk, or had she +really been visited by some dream, that she looked so changed? There was +a feverish light in her eye, and something like the shadow of a smile on +her lips. Mrs. Poindexter was with her; Mrs. Poindexter, whose face was +a mask we never tried to penetrate. But when she had left us alone +again, then Evelyn spoke, and I saw what her dream had been. + +"'Felix,' she cried as I approached her trembling with my own emotions +and half afraid of hers, 'there is still one hope for me. It has come to +me while you have been away. Edward--he loves me--did--perhaps he would +forgive. If he would take me into his protection (I see you know it all, +Felix) then I might grow happy again--well--strong--good. Do you +think--oh, you are a child, what do you know?--but--but before I turn my +face forever to the wall try if he will see me--try, try--with your +boy's wit--your clever schemes, to get him here unknown to--to--the one +I fear, I hate--and then, then, if he bids me live, I will live, and if +he bids me die, I will die; and all will be ended.' + +"I was an ignorant boy. I knew men no more than I knew women, and +yielding to her importunities, I promised to see Edward and plan for an +interview without her guardian's knowledge. I was, as Evelyn had said, +keen in those days and full of resources, and I easily managed it. +Edward, who had watched from the garden as I had from the door, was +easily persuaded to climb her lattice in search of what he had every +reason to believe would be his last earthly interview with his darling. +As his eager form bounded into the room I tottered forth, carrying with +me a vision of her face as she rose to meet--what? I dared not think or +attempt to foresee. Falling on my knees I waited the issue. Alas! It was +a speedy one. A stifled moan from her, the sound of a hoarse farewell +from him, told me that his love had failed her, and that her doom was +sealed. Creeping back to her side as quickly as my failing courage +admitted, I found her face turned to the wall, from which it never again +looked back; while presently, before the hour was passed, shouts ringing +through the town proclaimed that young Kissam had shot himself. She +heard, and died that night. In her last hour she had fancies. She +thought she saw her father, and her prayers for mercy were +heart-rending. Then she thought she saw him, that demon, her +executioner, and cringed and moaned against the wall. + +"But enough of this. Two days after, I walked between him and her silent +figure outstretched for burial. I had promised that no eye but mine +should look upon her, no other hand touch her, and I kept my word, even +when the impossible happened and her father rose up in the street before +us. Quietly, and in honor, she was carried to her grave, and then--then, +in the solitude of the retreat I had found for him, I told our father +all, and why I had denied him the only comfort which seemed left to +him--a last look at his darling daughter's face." + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE OATH. + + +A sigh from the panting breast of Amos Cadwalader followed these words. +Plainer than speech it told of a grief still fresh and an agony still +unappeased, though thirty years had passed away since the unhappy hour +of which Felix spoke. + +Felix, echoing it, went quickly on: + +"It was dusk when I told my story, and from dark to dawn we sat with +eyes fixed on each other's face, without sleep and without rest. Then we +sought John Poindexter. + +"Had he shunned us we might have had mercy, but he met us openly, +quietly, and with all the indifference of one who cannot measure +feeling, because he is incapable of experiencing it himself. His first +sentence evinced this. 'Spare yourselves, spare me all useless +recriminations. The girl is dead; I cannot call her back again. Enjoy +your life, your eating and your drinking, your getting and your +spending; it is but for a few more years at best. Why harp on old +'griefs?' His last word was a triumph. 'When a man cares for nothing or +nobody, it is useless to curse him.' + +"Ah, that was it! That was the secret of his power. He cared for nothing +and for no one, not even for himself. We felt the blow, and bent under +it. But before leaving him and the town, we swore, your father and I, +that we would yet make that cold heart feel; that some day, in some way, +we would cause that impassive nature to suffer as he had made us suffer, +however happy he might seem or however closely his prosperity might +cling to him. That was thirty years ago, and that oath has not yet been +fulfilled." + +Felix paused. Thomas lifted his head, but the old man would not let him +speak. "There are men who forget in a month, others who forget in a +year. I have never forgotten, nor has Felix here. When you were born (I +had married again, in the hope of renewed joy) I felt, I know not why, +that Evelyn's avenger was come. And when, a year or so after this event, +we heard that God had forgotten John Poindexter's sins, or, perhaps, +remembered them, and that a child was given him also, after eighteen +years of married life, I looked upon your bonny face and saw--or thought +I saw--a possible means of bringing about the vengeance to which Felix +and I had dedicated our lives. + +"You grew; your ardent nature, generous temper, and facile mind promised +an abundant manhood, and when your mother died, leaving me for a second +time a widower, I no longer hesitated to devote you to the purpose for +which you seemed born. Thomas, do you remember the beginning of that +journey which finally led you far from me? How I bore you on my shoulder +along a dusty road, till arrived within sight of his home, I raised you +from among the tombs and, showing you those distant gables looming black +against the twilight's gold, dedicated you to the destruction of +whatever happiness might hereafter develop under his infant's smile? You +do? I did not think you could forget; and now that the time has come for +the promise of that hour to be fulfilled, I call on you again, Thomas. +Avenge our griefs, avenge your sister. _Poindexter's girl has grown to +womanhood._" + +At the suggestion conveyed in these words Thomas recoiled in horror. But +the old man failed to read his emotion rightly. Clutching his arm, he +proceeded passionately: + +"Woo her! Win her! They do not know you. You will be Thomas Adams to +them, not Thomas Cadwalader. Gather this budding flower into your bosom, +and then--Oh, he must love his child! Through her we have our hand on +his heart. Make her suffer--she's but a country girl, and you have lived +in Paris--make her suffer, and if, in doing so, you cause him to blench, +then believe I am looking upon you from the grave I go to, and be happy; +for you will not have lived, nor will I have died, in vain." + +He paused to catch his failing breath, but his indomitable will +triumphed over death and held Thomas under a spell that confounded his +instincts and made him the puppet of feelings which had accumulated +their force to fill him, in one hour, with a hate which it had taken his +father and brother a quarter of a century to bring to the point of +active vengeance. + +"I shall die; I am dying now," the old man panted on. "I shall never +live to see your triumph; I shall never behold John Poindexter's eye +glaze with those sufferings which rend the entrails and make a man +question if there is a God in heaven. But I shall know it where I am. No +mounded earth can keep my spirit down when John Poindexter feels his +doom. I shall be conscious of his anguish and shall rejoice; and when in +the depths of darkness to which I go he comes faltering along my way---- + +"Boy, boy, you have been reared for this. God made you handsome; man has +made you strong; you have made yourself intelligent and accomplished. +You have only to show yourself to this country girl to become the master +of her will and affection, and these once yours, remember _me_! +_Remember Evelyn!_" + +Never had Thomas been witness to such passion. It swept him along in a +burning stream against which he sought to contend and could not. Raising +his hand in what he meant as a response to that appeal, he endeavored to +speak, but failed. His father misinterpreted his silence, and bitterly +cried: + +"You are dumb! You do not like the task; are virtuous, perhaps--you who +have lived for years alone and unhampered in Paris. Or you have +instincts of honor, habits of generosity that blind you to wrongs that +for a longer space than your lifetime have cried aloud to heaven for +vengeance. Thomas, Thomas, if you should fail me now----" + +"He will not fail you," broke in the voice of Felix, calm, suave, and +insinuating. "I have watched him; I know him; he will not fail you." + +Thomas shuddered; he had forgotten Felix, but as he heard these words he +could no longer delay looking at the man who had offered to stand his +surety for the performance of the unholy deed his father exacted from +him. Turning, he saw a man who in any place and under any roof would +attract attention, awake admiration and--yes, fear. He was not a large +man, not so large as himself, but the will that expressed itself in +frenzy on his father's lips showed quiet and inflexible in the gray eye +resting upon his own with a power he could never hope to evade. As he +looked and comprehended, a steel band seemed to compress his heart; yet +he was conscious at the same time that the personality before which he +thus succumbed was as elegant as his own and as perfectly trained in all +the ways of men and of life. Even the air of poverty which had shocked +him in his father's person and surroundings was not visible here. Felix +was both well and handsomely clad, and could hold his own as the elder +brother in every respect most insisted upon by the Parisian gentleman. +The long and, to Thomas, mysterious curtain of dark-green serge which +stretched behind him from floor to ceiling threw out his pale features +with a remarkable distinctness, and for an instant Thomas wondered if it +had been hung there for the purpose of producing this effect. But the +demand in his brother's face drew his attention, and, bowing his head, +he stammered: + +"I am at your command, Felix. I am at your command, father. I cannot say +more. Only remember that I never saw Evelyn, that she died before I was +born, and that I----" + +But here Felix's voice broke in, kind, but measured: + +"Perhaps there is some obstacle we have not reckoned upon. You may +already love some woman and desire to marry her. If so, it need be no +impediment----" + +But here Thomas's indignation found voice. + +"No," said he; "I am heart-whole save for a few lingering fancies which +are fast becoming vanishing dreams." + +He seemed to have lived years since entering this room. + +"Your heart will not be disturbed now," commented Felix. "I have seen +the girl. I went there on purpose a year ago. She's as pale as a +snow-drop and as listless. You will not be obliged to recall to mind the +gay smiles of Parisian ladies to be proof against her charms." + +Thomas shrugged his shoulders. + +"She must be made to know the full intoxication of hope," Felix +proceeded in his clear and cutting voice. "To realize despair she must +first experience every delight that comes with satisfied love. Have you +the skill as well as heart to play to the end a role which will take +patience as well as dissimulation, courage as well as subtlety, and that +union of will and implacability which finds its food in tears and is +strengthened, rather than lessened, by the suffering of its victim?" + +"I have the skill," murmured Thomas, "but----" + +"You lack the incentive," finished Felix. "Well, well, we must have +patience with your doubts and hesitations. Our hate has been fostered by +memories of her whom, as you say, you have never seen. Look, then, +Thomas. Look at your sister as she was, as she is for us. Look at her, +and think of her as despoiled, killed, forgotten by Poindexter. Have you +ever gazed upon a more moving countenance, or one in which beauty +contends with a keener prophecy of woe?" + +Not knowing what to expect, anticipating almost to be met by her shade, +Thomas followed the direction of his brother's lifted hand, and beheld, +where but a minute before that dismal curtain had hung, a blaze of +light, in the midst of which he saw a charming, but tragic, figure, such +as no gallery in all Europe had ever shown him, possibly because no +other limned face or form had ever appealed to his heart. It did not +seem a picture, it seemed her very self, a gentle, loving self that +breathed forth all the tenderness he had vainly sought for in his living +relatives; and falling at her feet, he cried out: + +"Do not look at me so reproachfully, sweet Evelyn. I was born to avenge +you, and I will. John Poindexter shall never go down in peace to his +tomb." + +A sigh of utter contentment came from the direction of the bed. + +"Swear it!" cried his father, holding out his arms before him in the +form of a cross. + +"Yes, swear it!" repeated Felix, laying his own hand on those crossed +arms. + +Thomas drew near, and laid his hand beside that of Felix. + +"I swear," he began, raising his voice above the tempest, which poured +gust after gust against the house. "I swear to win the affections of Eva +Poindexter, and then, when her heart is all mine, to cast her back in +anguish and contumely on the breast of John Poindexter." + +"Good!" came from what seemed to him an immeasurable distance. Then the +darkness, which since the taking of this oath had settled over his +senses, fell, and he sank insensible at the feet of his dying father. + + * * * * * + +Amos Cadwalader died that night; but not without one awful scene more. +About midnight he roused from the sleep which had followed the exciting +incidents I have just related, and glancing from Thomas to Felix, +sitting on either side of the bed, fixed his eyes with a strange gleam +upon the door. + +"Ah!" he ejaculated, "a visitor! John Poindexter! He comes to ask my +forgiveness before I set out on my dismal journey." + +The sarcasm of his tone, the courtesy of his manner, caused the hair to +stir on the heads of his two sons. That he saw his enemy as plainly as +he saw them, neither could doubt. + +"Does he dread my meeting with Evelyn? Does he wish to placate me before +I am joined to that pathetic shade? He shall not be disappointed. I +forgive you, John Poindexter! I forgive you my daughter's shame, my +blighted life. I am dying; but I leave one behind who will not forgive +you. I have a son, an avenger of the dead, who yet lives to--to----" + +He fell back. With these words, which seemed to seal Thomas to his task, +Amos Cadwalader died. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +EVA. + + +Felix had not inherited his father's incapacity for making money. In the +twenty years that had passed since Thomas had been abroad he had built +up a fortune, which he could not induce his father to share, but which +that father was perfectly willing to see devoted to their mutual +revenge. There was meaning, therefore, in the injunction Felix gave his +brother on his departure for Montgomery: + +"I have money; spend it; spend what you will, and when your task is +completed, there will still be some left for your amusement." + +Thomas bowed. "The laborer is worthy of his hire," was his thought. "And +you?" he asked, looking about the scanty walls, which seemed to have +lost their very excuse for being now that his father had died. "Will you +remain here?" + +Felix's answer was abrupt, but positive. "No; I go to New York +to-morrow. I have rented a house there, which you may one day wish to +share. The name under which I have leased it is Adams, Felix Adams. As +such you will address me. Cadwalader is a name that must not leave your +lips in Montgomery, nor must you forget that my person is known there, +otherwise we might not have been dependent on you for the success of our +revenge." And he smiled, fully conscious of being the handsomer man of +the two. "And now how about those introductions we enjoined you to bring +from Paris?" + + * * * * * + +The history of the next few weeks can best be understood by reading +certain letters sent by Thomas to Felix, by examining a diary drawn up +by the same writer for his own relief and satisfaction. The letters will +be found on the left, and the diary on the right, of the double columns +hereby submitted. The former are a summary of facts; the latter is a +summary of feelings. Both are necessary to a right comprehension of the +situation. + + * * * * * + + +FIRST LETTER. + +DEAR FELIX: + +I am here; I have seen her. She is, as you have said, a pale blonde. +To-morrow I present my credentials to John Poindexter. From what I have +already experienced I anticipate a favorable reception. + +Yours aff., THOMAS. + + +FIRST ENTRY. + +I could not write Felix the true story of this day. Why? And why must I +write it here? To turn my mind from dwelling on it? Perhaps. I do not +seem to understand my own feelings, or why I begin to dread my task, +while ardently pressing forward to accomplish it. + +I have seen her. This much I wrote to Felix, but I did not say where our +meeting took place or how. How could I? Would he understand how one of +Poindexter's blood could be employed in a gracious act, or how I, filled +with a purpose that has made my heart dark as hell ever since I embraced +it, could find that heart swell and that purpose sink at my first +glimpse of the face whose beauty I have sworn to devote to agony and +tears? Surely, surely Felix would have been stronger, and yet---- + +I went from the cars to the cemetery. Before entering the town or seeing +to my own comfort, I sought Evelyn's grave, there to renew my oath in +the place where, nineteen years ago, my father held me up, a +four-year-old child, in threat, toward John Poindexter's home. I had +succeeded in finding the old and neglected stone which marked her +resting-place, and was bending in the sunset light to examine it, when +the rustle of a woman's skirts attracted my attention, and I perceived +advancing toward me a young girl in a nimbus of rosy light which seemed +to lift her from the ground and give to her delicate figure and +strangely illumined head an ethereal aspect which her pure features and +tender bearing did not belie. In her arms she carried a huge cluster of +snow-white lilies, and when I observed that her eyes were directed not +on me, but on the grave beside which I stood, I moved aside into the +shadow of some bushes and watched her while she strewed these +flowers--emblems of innocence--over the grave I had just left. + +What did it mean, and who was this young girl who honored with such +gracious memorials the grave of my long-buried sister? As she rose from +her task I could no longer restrain either my emotion or the curiosity +with which her act had inspired me. Advancing, I greeted her with all +the respect her appearance called for, and noting that her face was even +more beautiful when lifted in speech than when bent in gravity over her +flowers, I asked her, in the indifferent tone of a stranger, who was +buried in this spot, and why she, a mere girl, dropped flowers upon a +grave the mosses of whose stone proved it to have been dug long before +she was born. + +Her answer caused me a shock, full as my life has lately been of +startling experiences. "I strew flowers here," said she, "because the +girl who lies buried under this stone had the same birthday as myself. I +never saw her, it's true, but she died in my father's house when she was +no older than I am to-day, and since I have become a woman and realize +what loss there is in dying young, I have made it a custom to share with +her my birthday flowers. She was a lily, they say, in appearance and +character, and so I bring her lilies." + +It was Eva Poindexter, the girl I--And she was strewing flowers on +Evelyn's grave. + + * * * * * + +LETTER II. + +DEAR FELIX: + +I have touched the hand of John Poindexter. In order to win a place in +the good graces of the daughter I must please the father, or at least +attract his favorable notice. I have reason to think I have done this. + +Very truly, THOMAS. + + +ENTRY II. + +I no longer feel myself a true man. John Poindexter is cold in +appearance, hard in manner, and inflexible in opinion, but he does not +inspire the abhorrence I anticipated nor awaken in me the one thought +due to the memory of my sister. Is it because he is Eva's father? Has +the loveliness of the daughter cast a halo about the parent? If so, +Felix has a right to execrate me and my father to---- + + * * * * * + +LETTER III. + +DEAR FELIX: + +The introductions furnished me have made me received everywhere. There +is considerable wealth here and many fine houses. Consequently I find +myself in a congenial society, of which she is the star. Did I say that +he was, as of old, the chief man of the town? + +Yours truly, THOMAS. + + +ENTRY III. + +She is beautiful. She has the daintiness of the lily and the flush of +the rose. But it is not her beauty that moves me; it is the strange +sweetness of her nature, which, nevertheless, has no weakness in it; on +the contrary, it possesses peculiar strength, which becomes instantly +apparent at the call of duty. Could Felix have imagined such a +Poindexter? I cannot contemplate such loveliness and associate it with +the execrable sin which calls down vengeance upon this house. I cannot +even dwell upon my past life. All that is dark, threatening, secret, and +revengeful slips from me under her eye, and I dream of what is pure, +true, satisfying, and ennobling. And this by the influence of her smile, +rather than of her words. Have I been given an angel to degrade? Or am I +so blind as to behold a saint where others (Felix, let us say) would see +only a pretty woman with unexpected attractions? + + * * * * * + +LETTER IV. + +DEAR FELIX: + +Rides, dances, games, nonsense generally. My interest in this young girl +is beginning to be publicly recognized. She alone seems ignorant of it. +Sometimes I wonder if our scheme will fail through her impassibility and +more than conventional innocence. I am sometimes afraid she will never +love me. Yet I have exerted myself to please her. Indeed, I could not +have exerted myself more. To-day I went twenty-five miles on horseback +to procure her a trifle she fancied. + +Yours aff., THOMAS. + + +ENTRY IV. + +All will not go as easily as Felix imagines. Eva Poindexter may be a +country girl, but she has her standards, too, and mere grace and +attainment are not sufficient to win her. Have I the other qualities she +demands? That remains to be seen. I have one she never dreams of. Will +its shadow so overwhelm the rest that her naturally pure spirit will +shrink from me just at the moment when I think her mine? I cannot tell, +and the doubt creates a hell within me. Something deeper, stronger, more +imperious than my revenge makes the winning of this girl's heart a +necessity to me. I have forgotten my purpose in this desire. I have +forgotten everything except that she is the one woman of my life, and +that I can never rest till her heart is wholly mine. Good God! Have I +become a slave where I hoped to be master? Have I, Thomas Cadwalader, +given my soul into the keeping of this innocent girl? I do not even stop +to inquire. To win her--that is all for which I now live. + + * * * * * + +LETTER V. + +DEAR FELIX: + +She may not care for me, but she is interested in no one else. Of this I +am assured by John Poindexter, who seems very desirous of aiding me in +my attempt to win his daughter's heart. Hard won, close bound. If she +ever comes to love me it will be with the force of a very strong nature. +The pale blonde has a heart. + +Yours aff., THOMAS. + + +ENTRY V. + +If it were passion only that I feel, I might have some hope of +restraining it. But it is something more, something deeper, something +which constrains me to look with her eyes, hear with her ears, and throb +with her heart. My soul, rather than my senses, is enthralled. I want to +win her, not for my own satisfaction, but to make her happy. I want to +prove to her that goodness exists in this world--I, who came here to +corrode and destroy; I, who am still pledged to do so. Ah, Felix, Felix, +you should have chosen an older man for your purpose, or remembered that +he who could be influenced as I was by family affections possesses a +heart too soft for such infamy. + + * * * * * + +ENTRY VI. + +The name of Evelyn is never mentioned in this house. Sometimes I think +that he has forgotten her, and find in this thought the one remaining +spur to my revenge. Forgotten her! Strange, that his child, born long +after his victim's death, should remember this poor girl, and he forget! +Yet on the daughter the blow is planned to fall--if it does fall. Should +I not pray that it never may? That she should loathe instead of love me? +Distrust, instead of confide in my honor and affection? But who can pray +against himself? Eva Poindexter must love me, even if I am driven to +self-destruction by my own remorse, after she has confided her heart to +my keeping. + + * * * * * + +LETTER VI. + +DEAR FELIX: + +Will you send me a few exquisite articles from Tiffany's? I see that her +father expects me to give her presents. I think she will accept them. If +she does, we may both rest easy as to the state of her affections. + +Very truly, THOMAS. + + +ENTRY VII. + +I cannot bring myself to pass a whole day away from her side. If Felix +were here and could witness my assiduity, he would commend me in his +cold and inflexible heart for the singleness with which I pursue my +purpose. He would say to me, in the language of one of his letters: "You +are not disappointing us." Us! As if our father still hovered near, +sharing our purposes and hope. Alas! if he does, he must penetrate more +deeply than Felix into the heart of this matter; must see that with +every day's advantage--and I now think each day brings its advantage--I +shrink further and further from the end they planned for me; the end +which can alone justify my advance in her affections. I am a traitor to +my oath, for I now know I shall never disappoint Eva's faith in me. I +could not. Rather would I meet my father's accusing eyes on the verge of +that strange world to which he has gone, or Felix's recriminations here, +or my own contempt for the weakness which has made it possible for me to +draw back from the brink of this wicked revenge to which I have devoted +myself. + + * * * * * + +LETTER VII. + +DEAR FELIX: + +This morning I passed under the window you have described to me as +Evelyn's. I did it with a purpose. I wanted to test my own emotions and +to see how much feeling it would arouse in me. Enough. + +Eva accepted the brooch. It was the simplest thing you sent. + +Aff., THOMAS. + + +ENTRY VIII. + +I hate John Poindexter, yes, I hate him, but I can never hate his +daughter. Only Felix could so confound the father with the child as to +visit his anger upon this gentle embodiment of all that is gracious, all +that is trustworthy, all that is fascinating in woman. But am I called +upon to hate her? Am I not in a way required to love her? I will ask +Felix. No, I cannot ask Felix. He would never comprehend her charm or +its influence over me. He would have doubts and come at once to +Montgomery. Good God! Am I proving such a traitor to my own flesh and +blood that I cannot bear to think of Felix contemplating even in secret +the unsuspicious form of his enemy's daughter? + + * * * * * + +LETTER VIII. + +DEAR FELIX: + +A picnic on the mountains. It fell to me to escort Miss Poindexter down +a dangerous slope. Though no words of affection passed between us (she +is not yet ready for them), I feel that I have made a decided advance in +her good graces. + +Yours, THOMAS. + + +ENTRY IX. + +I have touched her hand! I have felt her sweet form thrilling against +mine as we descended the mountain ledges together! No man was near, no +eye--there were moments in which we were as much alone in the wide +paradise of these wooded slopes as if the world held no other breathing +soul. Yet I no more dared to press her hand, or pour forth the mad +worship of my heart into her innocent ears, than if the eyes of all +Paris had been upon us. How I love her! How far off and faint seem the +years of that dead crime my brother would invoke for the punishment of +this sweet soul! Yes, and how remote that awful hour in which I knelt +beneath the hand of my dying father and swore--Ah, that oath! That oath! + + * * * * * + +ENTRY X. + +The thing I dreaded, the thing I might have foreseen, has occurred. +Felix has made his appearance in Montgomery. I received a communication +to that effect from him to-day; a communication in which he commands me +to meet him to-night, at Evelyn's grave, at the witching hour of twelve. +I do not enjoy the summons. I have a dread of Felix, and begin to think +he calculates upon stage devices to control me. But the day has passed +for that. I will show him that I can be no more influenced in that place +and at that hour than I could be in this hotel room, with the sight of +her little glove--is there sin in such thefts?--lying on the table +before us. Evelyn! She is a sacred memory. But the dead must not +interfere with the living. Eva shall never be sacrificed to Evelyn's +manes, not if John Poindexter lives out his life to his last hour in +peace; not if Felix--well; I need to play the man; Felix is a formidable +antagonist to meet, alone, in a spot of such rancorous memories, at an +hour when spirits--if there be spirits--haunt the precincts of the tomb. + + * * * * * + +ENTRY XI. + +I should not have known Felix had I met him in the street. How much of a +stranger he appeared, then, in the faint moonlight which poured upon +that shaded spot! His very voice seemed altered, and in his manner I +remarked a hesitation I had not supposed him capable of showing under +any circumstances. Nor were his words such as I expected. The questions +I dreaded most he did not ask. The recriminations I looked for he did +not utter. He only told me coldly that my courtship must be shortened; +that the end for which we were both prepared must be hastened, and gave +me two weeks in which to bring matters to a climax. Then he turned to +Evelyn's grave, and bending down, tried to read her name on the mossy +stone. He was so long in doing this that I leaned down beside him and +laid my hand on his shoulder. He was trembling, and his body was as cold +as the stone he threw himself against. Was it the memory of her whom +that stone covered which had aroused this emotion? If so, it was but +natural. To all appearance he has never in all his life loved any one as +he did this unhappy sister; and struck with a respect for the grief +which has outlived many a man's lifetime, I was shrinking back when he +caught my hand, and with a convulsive strain, contrasting strongly with +his tone, which was strangely measured, he cried, "Do not forget the +end! Do not forget John Poindexter! his sin, his indifference to my +father's grief; the accumulated sufferings of years which made Amos +Cadwalader a hermit amongst men. I have seen the girl; she has +changed--women do change at her age--and some men, I do not say you, but +some men might think her beautiful. But beauty, if she has it, must not +blind your eyes, which are fixed upon another goal. Overlook it; +overlook her--you have done so, have you not? Pale beauties cannot move +one who has sat at the feet of the most dazzling of Parisian women. Keep +your eyes on John Poindexter, the debt he owes us, and the suffering we +have promised him. That she is sweet, gentle, different from all we +thought her, only makes the chances of reaching his heart the greater. +The worthier she may be of affections not indigenous to that hard soul, +the surer will be our grip upon his nature and the heavier his +downfall." + +The old spell was upon me. I could neither answer nor assert myself. +Letting go my hand, he rose, and with his back to the village--I noticed +he had not turned his face to it since coming to this spot--he said: "I +shall return to New York to-morrow. In two weeks you will telegraph your +readiness to take up your abode with me. I have a home that will satisfy +you; and it will soon be all your own." + +Here he gripped his heart; and, dark as it was, I detected a strange +convulsion cross his features as he turned into the moonlight. But it +was gone before we could descend. + +"You may hear from me again," he remarked somewhat faintly as he grasped +my hand, and turned away in his own direction. I had not spoken a word +during the whole interview. + + * * * * * + +LETTER IX. + +DEAR FELIX: + +I do not hear from you. Are you well, or did your journey affect your +health? I have no especial advance to report. John Poindexter seems +greatly interested in my courtship. Sometimes he gives me very good +advice. How does that strike you, Felix? + +Aff., THOMAS. + + +ENTRY XII. + +I shall never understand Felix. He has not left the town, but is staying +here in hiding, watching me, no doubt, to see if the signs of weakening +he doubtless suspects in me have a significance deep enough to overthrow +his planned revenge. I know this, because I have seen him more than once +during the last week, when he thought himself completely invisible. I +have caught sight of him in Mr. Poindexter's grounds when Eva and I +stood talking together in the window. I even saw him once in church, in +a dark corner, to be sure, but where he could keep his eye upon us, +sitting together in Mr. Poindexter's pew. He seemed to me thin that day. +The suspense he is under is wearing upon him. Is it my duty to cut it +short by proclaiming my infidelity to my oath and my determination to +marry the girl who has made me forget it? + + * * * * * + +LETTER X. + +DEAR FELIX: + +Miss Poindexter has told me unreservedly that she cares for me. Are you +satisfied with me now? + +In haste, THOMAS. + + +ENTRY XIII. + +She loves me. Oh, ecstasy of life! Eva Poindexter loves me. I forced it +from her lips to-day. With my arms around her and her head on my +shoulder, I urged her to confession, and it came. Now let Felix do what +he will! What is old John Poindexter to me? Her father. What are Amos +Cadwalader's hatred and the mortal wrong that called so loudly for +revenge? Dead issues, long buried sorrows, which God may remember, but +which men are bound to forget. Life, life with her! That is the future +toward which I look; that is the only vengeance I will take, the only +vengeance Evelyn can demand if she is the angel we believe her. I will +write to Felix to-morrow. + + * * * * * + +ENTRY XIV. + +I have not written Felix. I had not the courage. + + * * * * * + +ENTRY XV. + +I have had a dream. I thought I saw the meeting of my father with the +white shade of Evelyn in the unimaginable recesses of that world to +which both have gone. Strange horrors, stranger glories met as their +separate paths crossed, and when the two forms had greeted and parted, a +line of light followed the footsteps of the one and a trail of gloom +those of the other. As their ways divided, I heard my father cry: + +"There is no spot on your garments, Evelyn. Can it be that the wrongs of +earth are forgotten here? That mortals remember what the angels forget, +and that our revenge is late for one so blessed?" + +I did not hear the answer, for I woke; but the echo of those words has +rung in my ears all day. "Is our revenge late for one so blessed?" + + * * * * * + +ENTRY XVI. + +I have summoned up courage. Felix has been here again, and the truth has +at last been spoken between us. I had been pressing Eva to name our +wedding day, and we were all standing--that is, John Poindexter, my dear +girl, and myself--in the glare of the drawing-room lights, when I heard +a groan, too faint for other ears to catch, followed by a light fall +from the window overlooking the garden. It was Felix. He had been +watching us, had seen my love, heard me talk of marriage, and must now +be in the grounds in open frenzy, or secret satisfaction, it was hard to +tell which. Determined to know, determined to speak, I excused myself on +some hurried plea, and searched the paths he knew as well as I. At last +I came upon him. He was standing near an old dial, where he had more +than once seen Eva and me together. He was very pale, deathly pale, it +seemed to me, in the faint starlight shining upon that open place; but +he greeted me as usual very quietly and with no surprise, almost, in +fact, as if he knew I would recognize his presence and follow him. + +"You are playing your role well," said he; "too well. What was that I +heard about your marrying?" + +The time had come. I was determined to meet it with a man's courage. But +I found it hard. Felix is no easy man to cross, even in small things, +and this thing is his life, nay, more--his past, present, and future +existence. + +I do not know who spoke first. There was some stammering, a few broken +words; then I heard myself saying distinctly, and with a certain hard +emphasis born of the restraint I put upon myself: + +"I love her! I want to marry her. You must allow this. Then----" + +I could not proceed. I felt the shock he had received almost as if it +had been communicated to me by contact. Something that was not of the +earth seemed to pass between us, and I remember raising my hand as if to +shield my face. And then, whether it was the blowing aside of some +branches which kept the moonlight from us, or because my eyesight was +made clearer by my emotion, I caught one glimpse of his face and became +conscious of a great suffering, which at first seemed the wrenching of +my own heart, but in another moment impressed itself upon me as that of +his, Felix's. + +I stood appalled. + +My weakness had uprooted the one hope of his life, or so I thought; and +that he expressed this by silence made my heart yearn toward him for the +first time since I recognized him as my brother. I tried to stammer some +excuse. I was glad when the darkness fell again, for the sight of his +bowed head and set features was insupportable to me. It seemed to make +it easier for me to talk; for me to dilate upon the purity, the goodness +which had robbed me of my heart in spite of myself. My heart! It seemed +a strange word to pass between us two in reference to a Poindexter, but +it was the only one capable of expressing the feeling I had for this +young girl. At last, driven to frenzy by his continued silence, which +had something strangely moving in it, I cried: + +"You have never loved a woman, Felix. You do not know what the passion +is when it seizes upon a man jaded with the hollow pleasures of an +irresponsible life. You cannot judge; therefore you cannot excuse. You +are made of iron----" + +"Hush!" It was the first word he had spoken since I had opened my heart +to him. "You do not know what you are saying, Thomas. Like all egotists, +you think yourself alone in experience and suffering. Will you think so +when I tell you that there was a time in my life when I did not sleep +for weeks; when the earth, the air, yes, and the heavens were full of +nothing but her name, her face, her voice? When to have held her in my +arms, to have breathed into her ear one word of love, to have felt her +cheek fall against mine in confidence, in passion, in hope, would have +been to me the heaven which would have driven the devils from my soul +forever? Thomas, will you believe I do not know the uttermost of all you +are experiencing, when I here declare to you that there has been an hour +in my life when, if I had felt she could have been brought to love me, I +would have sacrificed Evelyn, my own soul, our father's hope, John +Poindexter's punishment, and become the weak thing you are to-day, and +gloried in it, I, Felix Cadwalader, the man of iron, who has never been +known to falter? But, Thomas, I overcame that feeling. I crushed down +that love, and I call upon you to do the same. You may marry her, +but----" + +What stopped him? His own heart or my own impetuosity? Both, perhaps, +for at that moment I fell at his feet, and seizing his hand, kissed it +as I might a woman's. He seemed to grow cold and stiff under this +embrace, which showed both the delirium I was laboring under and the +relief I had gotten from his words. When he withdrew his hand, I feel +that my doom was about to be spoken, and I was not wrong. It came in +these words: + +"Thomas, I have yielded to your importunity and granted you the +satisfaction which under the same circumstances I would have denied +myself. But it has not made me less hard toward you; indeed, the steel +with which you say my heart is bound seems tightening about it, as if +the momentary weakness in which I have indulged called for revenge. +Thomas, go on your way; make the girl your wife--I had rather you would, +since she is--what she is--but after she has taken your name, after she +believes herself secure in her honorable position and your love, then +you are to remember our compact and your oath--back upon John +Poindexter's care she is to be thrown, shortly, curtly, without +explanation or excuse; and if it costs you your life, you are to stand +firm in this attitude, using but one weapon in the struggle which may +open between you and her father, and that is, your name of Cadwalader. +You will not need any other. Thomas, do you swear to this? Or must I +direct my own power against Eva Poindexter, and, by telling her your +motive in courting her, make her hate you forever?" + +"I will swear," I cried, overpowered by the alternative with which he +threatened me. "Give me the bliss of calling her mine, and I will follow +your wishes in all that concerns us thereafter." + +"You will?" There was a sinister tone in this ejaculation that gave a +shock to my momentary complacency. But we are so made that an +anticipated evil affects us less than an immediate one; and remembering +that weeks must yet elapse, during which he or John Poindexter or even +myself might die, I said nothing, and he went icily on: + +"I give you two months, alone and untrammelled. Then you are to bring +your bride to my house, there to hear my final decision. There is to be +no departure from this course. I shall expect you, Thomas; you and her. +You can say that you are going to make her acquainted with your +brother." + +"I will be there," I murmured, feeling a greater oppression than when I +took the oath at my father's death-bed. "I will be there." + +There was no answer. While I was repeating those four words, Felix +vanished. + + * * * * * + +LETTER XI. + +DEAR FELIX: + +Have a fresh draft made. I need cigars, clothes, and--a wedding ring. +But no, let me stop short there. We will be married without one, unless +you force it upon us. Eva's color is blue. + +Very truly, Thomas. + + +ENTRY XVII. + +To-day I wrote again to Felix. He is at home, must be, for I have +neither seen nor felt his presence since that fateful night. What did I +write? I don't remember. I seem to be living in a dream. Everything is +confused about me but Eva's face, Eva's smile. They are blissfully +clear. Sometimes I wish they were not. Were they confused amid these +shadows, I might have stronger hope of keeping my word to Felix. Now, I +shall never keep it. Eva once my wife, separation between us will become +impossible. John Poindexter is ill. + + * * * * * + +LETTER XII. + +DEAR FELIX: + +Congratulations: visits from my neighbors; all the eclat we could wish +or a true lover hate. The ring you sent fits as if made for her. I am +called in all directions by a thousand duties. I am on exhibition, and +every one's curiosity must be satisfied. + +In haste, THOMAS. + + +ENTRY XVIII. + +The wedding is postponed. John Poindexter is very ill. Pray God, Felix +hears nothing of this. He would come here; he would confront his enemy +on his bed of sickness. He would denounce him, and Eva would be lost to +me. + + * * * * * + +LETTER XIII. + +DEAR FELIX: + +Eva is not pleased with the arrangements which have been made for our +wedding. John Poindexter likes show; she does not. Which will carry the +day? + +Yours aff., THOMAS. + + +ENTRY XIX. + +Mr. Poindexter is better, but our plans will have to be altered. We now +think we will be married quietly, possibly in New York. + + * * * * * + +LETTER XIV. + +DEAR FELIX: + +A compromise has been effected. The wedding will be a quiet one, but not +celebrated here. As you cannot wish to attend it, I will not mention the +place or hour of my marriage, only say that on September 27th at 4 +P. M. you may expect my wife and myself at your house. + +Aff., THOMAS. + + +ENTRY XX. + +We have decided to be married in New York. Mr. Poindexter needs the +change, and Eva and I are delighted at the prospect of a private +wedding. Then we will be near Felix, but not to subject ourselves to his +will. Oh, no! + + * * * * * + +ENTRY XXI. + +Married! She is mine. And now to confront Felix with my determination to +hold on to my happiness. How I love her, and how I pity him! John +Poindexter's wickedness is forgotten, Evelyn but a fading memory. The +whole world seems to hold but three persons--Eva, Felix, and myself. How +will it end? We meet at his home to-morrow. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +FELIX. + + +Meanwhile there was another secret struggle going on in the depth of a +nature from which all sympathy was excluded both by the temperament of +the person concerned and the circumstances surrounding him. + +I can but hint at it. Some tragedies lie beyond the ken of man, and this +one we can but gather from stray scraps of torn-up letters addressed to +no one and betraying their authorship only through the writer's hand. +They were found long after the mystery of Felix Cadwalader's death had +been fully accounted for, tucked away under the flooring of Bartow's +room. Where or how procured by him, who can tell? + + * * * * * + +"Madness! + +"I have seen Eva Poindexter again, and heaven and hell have contended +for me ever since. Eva! Eva! the girl I thought of only as our prey. The +girl I have given to my brother. She is too lovely for him: she is too +lovely for any man unless it be one who has never before thrilled to any +woman's voice, or seen a face that could move his passions or awaken his +affection. Is it love I feel? Can I, Felix, who have had but one +thought, known but one enthusiasm, retain in this breast of iron a spot +however secret, however small, which any woman, least of all his +daughter, could reach? Never! I am the prey of frenzy or the butt of +devils. Yet only the inhabitants of a more celestial sphere brighten +around me when I think of those half-raised eyes, those delicately +parted lips, so devoid of guile, that innocent bearing, and the divine +tenderness, mingled with strength, by which she commands admiration and +awakens love. I must fly. I must never see her again. Thomas's purpose +is steady. He must never see that mine rocks like an idol smitten by a +thunderbolt. + +"If Thomas had not been reared in Paris, he too--But I am the only weak +one. Curses on my---- + +"Did I say I would fly? I cannot, not yet. One more glimpse of her face, +if only to satisfy myself that I have reason for this madness. Perhaps I +was but startled yesterday to find a celestial loveliness where I +expected to encounter pallid inanity. If my emotion is due to my own +weakness rather than to her superiority, I had better recognize my folly +before it proves my destruction. + +I will stay and---- + +Thomas will not, shall not---- + +dexter's daughter---- + +hate, hate for Thom---- + +"My self-esteem is restored. I have seen her again--him--they were +together--there was true love in his eye--how could I expect him not to +love her--and I was able to hide my anguish and impose his duty on him. +She loves him--or he thinks so--and the work goes on. But I will not +stay to watch its accomplishment. No, no. + +"I told him my story to-night, under the guise of a past experience. Oh, +the devils must laugh at us men! They have reason to. Sometimes I wonder +if my father in the clearness of his new vision does not join them in +their mirth. + +"Home with my unhappy secret! Home, where nothing comes to distract me +from my gnawing griefs and almost intolerable thoughts. I walk the +floors. I cry aloud her name. I cry it even under the portrait of +Evelyn. There are moments when I am tempted to write to Thomas--to +forbid him---- + +"Eva! Eva! Eva! Every fibre in my miserable body utters the one word. +But no man shall ever know. Thomas shall never know how the thought of +her fills my days and nights, making my life a torment and the +future---- + +"I wait for his letters (scanty they are and cold) as the doomed +criminal awaits his executioner. Does she really love him? Or will that +exquisite, that soulful nature call for a stronger mate, a more +concentrated temperament, a--a---- + +"I thought I saw in one of my dark hours my father rising up from his +grave to curse me. Oh! he might curse on if---- + +"What have I said about no man knowing? Bartow knows. In his dumbness, +his deafness, he has surprised my secret, and shows that he has done so +by his peering looks, his dissatisfied ways, and a jealousy at which I +could shout aloud in mirth, if I were not more tempted to shriek aloud +in torment. A dumb serving-man, picked up I have almost forgotten where, +jealous of my weakness for John Poindexter's daughter! He was never +jealous of my feeling for Evelyn. Yet till the day I dared fate by +seeking out and looking for the second time upon the woman whose charms +I had scorned, her name often resounded through these rooms, and my eyes +dwelt upon but one spot, and that was where her picture hangs in the +woeful beauty which has become my reproach. + +"I have had a great surprise. The starling, which has been taught to +murmur Evelyn's name, to-day shrieked out, 'Eva! Eva!' My first impulse +was to wring its neck, my next to take it from its cage and hide it in +my bosom. But I did neither. I am still a man. + +"Bartow will wring that bird's neck if I do not. This morning I caught +him with his hand on the cage and a murderous light in his eye, which I +had no difficulty in understanding. Yet he cannot hear the word the +wretched starling murmurs. He only knows it is a word, a name, and he is +determined to suppress it. Shall I string the cage up out of this old +fellow's reach? His deafness, his inability to communicate with others, +the exactness with which he obeys my commands as given him by my colored +slides, his attention to my every wish, consequent upon his almost +animal love for my person, are necessary to me now, while the bird--Ah! +there it goes again, 'Eva! Eva!' + +"Is it hate or love I feel, abhorrence or passion? Love would seek to +save, but I have no thought of saving her, since she has acknowledged +her love for Thomas, and since he--Oh, it is not now for Evelyn's sake I +plan revenge, but for my own! These nights and days of torture--the +revelation I have had of my own nature--the consent I was forced to give +to a marriage which means bliss to them and anguish beyond measure to +me--all this calls for vengeance, and they will not escape, these two. I +have laid my plans deep. I have provided for every contingency. It has +taken time, thought, money. But the result is good. If they cross the +threshold of my circular study, they must consent to my will or perish +here, and I with them. Oh, they shall never live and be happy! Thomas +need not think it. John Poindexter need not think it! I might have +forgotten the oath made on my father's crossed arms, but I will never +forget the immeasurable griefs of these past months or the humiliation +they have brought me. My own weakness is to be avenged--my unheard-of, +my intolerable weakness. Remember Evelyn? Remember Felix! Ah, again! +Eva! Eva! Eva!" + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +WHY THE IRON SLIDE REMAINED STATIONARY. + + +The rest must be told in Thomas's own words, as it forms the chief part +of the confession he made before the detectives: + +According to my promise, I took my young wife to Felix's house on the +day and at the hour proposed. We went on foot, for it was not far from +the hotel where we were then staying, and were received at the door by +an old servant who I had been warned could neither speak nor hear. At +sight of him and the dim, old-fashioned hall stretching out in +aristocratic gloom before us, Eva turned pale and cast me an inquiring +look. But I reassured her with a smile that most certainly contradicted +my own secret dread of the interview before us, and taking her on my +arm, followed the old man down the hall, past the open drawing-room door +(where I certainly thought we should pause), into a room whose plain +appearance made me frown, till Bartow, as I have since heard him called, +threw aside the portiere at one end and introduced us into my brother's +study, which at that moment looked like fairyland, or would have, if +Felix, who was its sole occupant, had not immediately drawn our +attention to himself by the remarkable force of his personality, never +so impressive as at that moment. + +Eva, to whom I had said little of this brother, certainly nothing which +would lead her to anticipate seeing either so handsome a man or one of +such mental poise and imposing character, looked frightened and a trifle +awe-struck. But she advanced quite bravely toward him, and at my +introduction smiled with such an inviting grace that I secretly expected +to see him more or less disarmed by it. + +And perhaps he was, for his already pale features turned waxy in the +yellow glare cast by the odd lantern over our heads, and the hand he had +raised in mechanical greeting fell heavily, and he could barely stammer +out some words of welcome. These would have seemed quite inadequate to +the occasion if his eyes which were fixed on her face, had not betrayed +the fact that he was not without feeling, though she little realized the +nature of that feeling or how her very life (for happiness is life) was +trembling in the balance under that indomitable will. + +I who did know--or thought I did--cast him an imploring glance, and, +saying that I had some explanations to make, asked if Mrs. Adams might +not rest here while we had a few words apart. + +He answered me with a strange look. Did he feel the revolt in my tone +and understand then as well as afterward what the nature of my +compliance had been? I shall never know. I only know that he stopped +fumbling with some small object on the table before him, and, bowing +with a sarcastic grace that made me for the first time in my intercourse +with him feel myself his inferior, even in size, led the way to a small +door I had failed to notice up to this moment. + +"Your wife will find it more comfortable here," he observed, with slow +pauses in his speech that showed great, but repressed, excitement. And +he opened the door into what had the appearance of a small but elegant +sleeping-apartment. "What we have to say cannot take long. Mrs. Adams +will not find the wait tedious." + +"No," she smiled, with a natural laugh, born, as I dare hope, of her +perfect happiness. Yet she could not but have considered the proceeding +strange, and my manner, as well as his, scarcely what might be expected +from a bridegroom introducing his bride to his only relative. + +"I will call you--" I began, but the vision of her dimpled face above +the great cluster of roses she carried made me forget to complete my +sentence, and the door closed, and I found myself face to face with +Felix. + +He was breathing easier, and his manner seemed more natural now that we +were alone, yet he did not speak, but cast a strange, if not inquiring, +glance about the room (the weirdest of apartments, as you all well +know), and seeming satisfied with what he saw, why I could not tell, led +the way up to the large table which from the first had appeared to exert +a sort of uncanny magnetism upon him, saying: + +"Come further away. I need air, breathing place in this close room, and +so must you. Besides, why should she hear what we have to say? She will +know the worst soon enough. She seems a gentle-hearted woman." + +"An angel!" I began, but he stopped me with an imperious gesture. + +"We will not discuss your wi--Mrs. Adams," he protested. "Where is John +Poindexter?" + +"At the hotel," I rejoined. "Or possibly he has returned home. I no +longer take account of his existence. Felix, I shall never leave my +wife. I had rather prove recreant to the oath I took before I realized +the worth of the woman whose happiness I vowed to destroy. This is what +I have come to tell you. Make it easy for me, Felix. You are a man who +has loved and suffered. Let us bury the past; let us----" + +Had I hoped I could move him? Perhaps some such child's notion had +influenced me up to this moment. But as these words left my lips, nay, +before I had stumbled through them, I perceived by the set look of his +features, which were as if cast in bronze, that I might falter, but that +he was firm as ever, firmer, it seemed to me, and less easy to be +entreated. + +Yet what of that? At the worst, what had I to fear? A struggle which +might involve Eva in bitter unpleasantness and me in the loss of a +fortune I had come to regard almost as my own. But these were petty +considerations. Eva must know sooner or later my real name and the story +of her father's guilt. Why not now? And if we must start life poor, it +was yet life, while a separation from her---- + +Meanwhile Felix had spoken, and in language I was least prepared to +hear. + +"I anticipated this. From the moment you pleaded with me for the +privilege of marrying her, I have looked forward to this outcome and +provided against it. Weakness on the part of her bridegroom was to be +expected; I have, therefore, steeled myself to meet the emergency; for +your oath must be kept!" + +Crushed by the tone in which these words were uttered, a tone that +evinced power against which any ordinary struggle would end in failure, +I cast my eyes about the room in imitation of what I had seen him do a +few minutes before. There was nothing within sight calculated to awaken +distrust, and yet a feeling of distrust (the first I had really felt) +had come with the look he had thrown above and around the mosque-like +interior of the room he called his study. Was it the calm confidence he +showed, or the weirdness of finding myself amid Oriental splendors and +under the influence of night effects in high day and within sound of the +clanging street cars and all the accompanying bustle of every-day +traffic? It is hard to say; but from this moment on I found myself +affected by a vague affright, not on my own account, but on hers whose +voice we could plainly hear humming a gay tune in the adjoining +apartment. But I was resolved to suppress all betrayal of uneasiness. I +even smiled, though I felt the eyes of Evelyn's pictured countenance +upon me; Evelyn's, whose portrait I had never lost sight of from the +moment of entering the room, though I had not given it a direct look and +now stood with my back to it. Felix, who faced it, but who did not raise +his eyes to it, waited a moment for my response, and finding that my +words halted, said again: + +"That oath must be kept!" + +This time I found words with which to answer. "Impossible!" I burst out, +flinging doubt, fear, hesitancy, everything I had hitherto trembled at +to the winds. "It was in my nature to take it, worked upon as I was by +family affection, the awfulness of our father's approaching death, and a +thousand uncanny influences all carefully measured and prepared for this +end. But it is not in my nature to keep it after four months of natural +living in the companionship of a man thirty years removed from his +guilt, and of his guileless and wholly innocent daughter. And you cannot +drive me to it, Felix. No man can force another to abandon his own wife +because of a wicked oath taken long before he knew her. If you think +your money----" + +"Money?" he cried, with a contempt that did justice to my +disinterestedness as well as his own. "I had forgotten I had it. No, +Thomas, I should never weigh money against the happiness of living with +such a woman as your wife appears to be. But her life I might. Carry out +your threat; forget to pay John Poindexter the debt we owe him, and the +matter will assume a seriousness for which you are doubtless poorly +prepared. A daughter dead in her honeymoon will be almost as great a +grief to him as a dishonored one. And either dead or dishonored he must +find her, when he comes here in search of the child he cannot long +forget. Which shall it be? Speak!" + +Was I dreaming? Was this Felix? Was this myself? And was it in my ears +these words were poured? + +With a spring I reached his side where he stood close against the table, +and groaned rather than shrieked the words: + +"You would not kill her! You do not meditate a crime of blood--here--on +her--the innocent--the good----" + +"No," he said; "it will be you who will do that. You who will not wish +to see her languish--suffer--go mad--Thomas, I am not the raving being +you take me for. I am merely a keeper of oaths. Nay, I am more. I have +talents, skill. The house in which you find yourself is proof of this. +This room--see, it has no outlet save those windows, scarcely if at all +perceptible to you, above our heads, and that opening shielded now by a +simple curtain, but which in an instant, without my moving from this +place, I can so hermetically seal that no man, save he be armed with +crowbar and pickaxe, could enter here, even if man could know of our +imprisonment, in a house soon to be closed from top to bottom by my +departing servant." + +"May God protect us!" fell from my lips, as, stiff with horror, I let my +eyes travel from his determined face, first to the windows high over my +head and then to the opening of the door, which, though but a few steps +from where I stood, was as far as possible from the room into which my +darling had been induced to enter. + +Felix, watching me, uttered his explanations as calmly as if the matter +were one of every-day significance. "You are looking for the windows," +he remarked. "They are behind those goblin faces you see outlined on the +tapestries under the ceiling. As for the door, if you had looked to the +left when you entered, you would have detected the edge of a huge steel +plate hanging flush with the casing. This plate can be made to slide +across that opening in an instant just by the touch of my hand on this +button. This done, no power save such as I have mentioned can move it +back again, not even my own. I have forces at my command for sending it +forward, but none for returning it to its place. Do you doubt my +mechanical skill or the perfection of the electrical apparatus I have +caused to be placed here? You need not, Thomas; nor need you doubt the +will that has only to exert itself for an instant to--Shall I press the +button, brother?" + +"No, no!" I shouted in a frenzy, caused rather by my knowledge of the +nature of this man than any especial threat apparent in his voice or +gesture. "Let me think; let me know more fully what your requirements +are--what she must suffer if I consent--and what I." + +He let his hand slip back, that smooth white hand which I had more than +once surveyed in admiration. Then he smiled. + +"I knew you would not be foolish," he said. "Life has its charms even +for hermits like me; and for a _beau garcon_ such as you are----" + +"Hush!" I interposed, maddened into daring his full anger. "It is not my +life I am buying, but hers, possibly yours; for it seems you have +planned to perish with us. Is it not so?" + +"Certainly," was his cold reply. "Am I an assassin? Would you expect me +to live, knowing you to be perishing?" + +I stared aghast. Such resolve, such sacrifice of self to an idea was +beyond my comprehension. + +"Why--what?" I stammered. "Why kill us, why kill yourself----" + +The answer overwhelmed me. + +"Remember Evelyn!" shrilled a voice, and I paused, struck dumb with a +superstitious horror I had never believed myself capable of +experiencing. For it was not Felix who spoke, neither was it any +utterance of my own aroused conscience. Muffled, strange, and startling +it came from above, from the hollow spaces of that high vault lit with +the golden glow that henceforth can have but one meaning for me--death. + +"What is it?" I asked. "Another of your mechanical contrivances?" + +He smiled; I had rather he had frowned. + +"Not exactly. A favorite bird, a starling. Alas! he but repeats what he +has heard echoed through the solitude of these rooms. I thought I had +smothered him up sufficiently to insure his silence during this +interview. But he is a self-willed bird, and seems disposed to defy the +wrappings I have bound around him; which fact warns me to be speedy and +hasten our explanations. Thomas, this is what I require: John +Poindexter--you do not know where he is at this hour, but I do--received +a telegram but now, which, if he is a man at all, will bring him to this +house in a half-hour or so from the present moment. It was sent in your +name, and in it you informed him that matters had arisen which demanded +his immediate attention; that you were on your way to your brother's +(giving him this address), where, if you found entrance, you would await +his presence in a room called the study; but that--and here you will see +how his coming will not aid us if that steel plate is once started on +its course--if the possible should occur and your brother should be +absent from home, then he was to await a message from you at the Plaza. +The appearance of the house would inform him whether he would find you +and Eva within; or so I telegraphed him in your name. + +"Thomas, if Bartow fulfils my instructions--and I have never know him to +fail me--he will pass down these stairs and out of this house in just +five minutes. As he is bound on a long-promised journey, and as he +expects me to leave the house immediately after him, he has drawn every +shade and fastened every lock. Consequently, on his exit, the house will +become a tomb, to which, just two weeks from to-day, John Poindexter +will be called again, and in words which will lead to a demolition which +will disclose--what? Let us not forestall the future, our horrible +future, by inquiring. But Thomas, shall Bartow go? Shall I not by signs +he comprehends more readily than other men comprehend speech indicate to +him on his downward passage to the street that I wish him to wait and +open the door to the man whom we have promised to overwhelm in his hour +of satisfaction and pride? You have only to write a line--see! I have +made a copy of the words you must use, lest your self-command should be +too severely taxed. These words left on this table for his +inspection--for you must go and Eva remain--will tell him all he needs +to know from you. The rest can come from my lips after he has read the +signature, which in itself will confound him and prepare the way for +what I have to add. Have you anything to say against this plan? +Anything, I mean, beyond what you have hitherto urged? Anything that I +will consider or which will prevent my finger from pressing the button +on which it rests?" + +I took up the paper. It was lying on the table, where it had evidently +been inscribed simultaneously with or just before our entrance into the +house, and slowly read the few lines I saw written upon it. You know +them, but they will acquire a new significance from your present +understanding of their purpose and intent: + + I return you back your daughter. Neither she nor you will ever see + me again. Remember Evelyn! + + AMOS'S SON. + +"You wish me to sign these words, to put them into my own handwriting, +and so to make them mine? Mine!" I repeated. + +"Yes, and to leave them here on this table for him to see when he +enters. He might not believe any mere statement from me in regard to +your intentions." + +I was filled with horror. Love, life, human hopes, the world's +friendships--all the possibilities of existence, swept in one +concentrated flood of thought and feeling through my outraged +consciousness, and I knew I could never put my name to such a blasphemy +of all that was sacred to man's soul. Tossing the paper in his face, I +cried: + +"You have gone too far! Better her death, better mine, better the +destruction of us all, than such dishonor to the purest thing heaven +ever made. I refuse, Felix--I refuse. And may God have mercy on us all!" + +The moment was ghastly. I saw his face change, his finger tremble where +it hovered above the fatal button; saw--though only in imagination as +yet--the steely edge of that deadly plate of steel advancing beyond the +lintel, and was about to dare all in a sudden grapple with this man, +when a sound from another direction caught my ear, and looking around in +terror of the only intrusion we could fear, beheld Eva advancing from +the room in which we had placed her. + +That moment a blood-red glow took the place of the sickly yellow which +had hitherto filled every recess of this weird apartment. But I scarcely +noticed the change, save as it affected her pallor and gave to her +cheeks the color that was lacking in the roses at her belt. + +Fearless and sweet as in the hour when she first told me that she loved +me, she approached and stood before us. + +"What is this?" she cried. "I have heard words that sound more like the +utterances of some horrid dream than the talk of men and brothers. What +does it mean, Thomas? What does it mean, Mr. ----" + +"Cadwalader," announced Felix, dropping his eyes from her face, but +changing not a whit his features or posture. + +"Cadwalader?" The name was not to her what it was to her father. +"Cadwalader? I have heard that name in my father's house; it was +Evelyn's name, the Evelyn who----" + +"Whom you see painted there over your head," finished Felix, "my sister, +Thomas's sister--the girl whom your father--but I spare you, child +though you be of a man who spared nothing. From your husband you may +learn why a Cadwalader can never find his happiness with a Poindexter. +Why thirty or more years after that young girl's death, you who were not +then born are given at this hour the choice between death and dishonor. +I allow you just five minutes in which to listen. After that you will +let me know your joint decision. Only you must make your talk where you +stand. A step taken by either of you to right or left, and Thomas knows +what will follow." + +Five minutes, with such a justification to make, and such a decision to +arrive at! I felt my head swim, my tongue refuse its office, and stood +dumb and helpless before her till the sight of her dear eyes raised in +speechless trust to mine flooded me with a sense of triumph amid all the +ghastly terrors of the moment, and I broke out in a tumult of speech, in +excuses, explanations, all that comes to one in a more than mortal +crisis. + +She listened, catching my meaning rather from my looks than my words. +Then as the minutes fled and my brother raised a warning hand, she +turned toward him, and said: + +"You are in earnest? We must separate in shame or perish in this +prison-house with you?" + +His answer was mere repetition, mechanical, but firm: + +"You have said it. You have but one minute more, madam." + +She shrank, and all her powers seemed leaving her, then a reaction came, +and a flaming angel stood where but a moment before the most delicate of +women weakly faltered; and giving me a look to see if I had the courage +or the will to lift my hand against my own flesh and blood (alas for us +both! I did not understand her) caught up an old Turkish dagger lying +only too ready to her hand, and plunged it with one sideways thrust into +his side, crying: + +"We cannot part, we cannot die, we are too young, too happy!" + +It was sudden; the birth of purpose in her so unexpected and so rapid +that Felix, the ready, who was prepared for all contingencies, for the +least movement or suggestion of escape, faltered and pressed, not the +fatal button, but his heart. + +One impulsive act on the part of a woman had overthrown all the +fine-spun plans of the subtlest spirit that ever attempted to work its +will in the face of God and man. + +But I did not think of this then; I did not even bestow a thought upon +the narrowness of our escape, or the price which the darling of my heart +might be called upon to pay for this supreme act of self-defence. My +mind, my heart, my interest were with Felix, in whom the nearness of +death had called up all that was strongest and most commanding in his +strong and commanding spirit. + +Though struck to the heart, he had not fallen. It was as if the will +which had sustained him through thirty years of mental torture held him +erect still, that he might give her, Eva, one look, the like of which I +had never seen on mortal face, and which will never leave my heart or +hers until we die. Then as he saw her sink shudderingly down and the +delicate woman reappear in her pallid and shrunken figure, he turned his +eyes on me and I saw,--good God!--a tear well up from those orbs of +stone and fall slowly down his cheek, fast growing hollow under the +stroke of death. + +"Eva! Eva! I love Eva!" shrilled the voice which once before had +startled me from the hollow vault above. + +Felix heard, and a smile faint as the failing rush of blood through his +veins moved his lips and brought a revelation to my soul. He, too, loved +Eva! + +When he saw I knew, the will which had kept him on his feet gave way, +and he sank to the floor murmuring: + +"Take her away! I forgive. Save! Save! She did not know I loved her." + +Eva, aghast, staring with set eyes at her work, had not moved from her +crouching posture. But when she saw that speaking head fall back, the +fine limbs settle into the repose of death, a shock went through her +which I thought would never leave her reason unimpaired. + +"I've killed him!" she murmured. "I've killed him!" and looking wildly +about, her eyes fell on the cross that hung behind us on the wall. It +seemed to remind her that Felix was a Catholic. "Bring it!" she gasped. +"Let him feel it on his breast. It may bring him peace--hope." + +As I rushed to do her bidding, she fell in a heap on the floor. + +"Save!" came again from the lips we thought closed forever in death. And +realizing at the words both her danger and the necessity of her not +opening her eyes again upon this scene, I laid the cross in his arms, +and catching her up from the floor, ran with her out of the house. But +no sooner had I caught sight of the busy street and the stream of +humanity passing before us, than I awoke to an instant recognition of +our peril. Setting my wife down, I commanded life back into her limbs by +the force of my own energy, and then dragging her down the steps, +mingled with the crowd, encouraging her, breathing for her, living in +her till I got her into a carriage and we drove away. + +For the silence we have maintained from that time to this you must not +blame Mrs. Adams. When she came to herself--which was not for days--she +manifested the greatest desire to proclaim her act and assume its +responsibility. But I would not have it. I loved her too dearly to see +her name bandied about in the papers; and when her father was taken into +our confidence, he was equally peremptory in enjoining silence, and +shared with me the watch I now felt bound to keep over her movements. + +But alas! His was the peremptoriness of pride rather than love. John +Poindexter has no more heart for his daughter than he had for his wife +or that long-forgotten child from whose grave this tragedy has sprung. +Had Felix triumphed he would never have wrung the heart of this man. As +he once said, when a man cares for nothing and nobody, not even for +himself, it is useless to curse him. + +As for Felix himself, judge him not, when you realize, as you now must, +that his last conscious act was to reach for and put in his mouth the +paper which connected Eva with his death. At the moment of death his +thought was to save, not to avenge. And this after her hand had struck +him. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +ANSWERED. + + +A silence more or less surcharged with emotion followed this final +appeal. Then, while the various auditors of this remarkable history +whispered together and Thomas Adams turned in love and anxiety toward +his wife, the inspector handed back to Mr. Gryce the memorandum he had +received from him. + +It presented the following appearance: + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +1. Why a woman who was calm enough to stop and arrange her hair during +the beginning of an interview should be wrought up to such a pitch of +frenzy and exasperation before it was over as to kill with her own hand +a man she had evidently had no previous grudge against. (Remember the +comb found on the floor of Mr. Adams's bedroom.) + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +2. What was the meaning of the following words, written just previous to +this interview by the man thus killed: "I return you your daughter. +Neither you nor she will ever see me again. Remember Evelyn!" + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +3. Why was the pronoun "I" used in this communication? What position did +Mr. Felix Adams hold toward this young girl qualifying him to make use +of such language after her marriage to his brother? + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +4. And having used it, why did he, upon being attacked by her, attempt +to swallow the paper upon which he had written these words, actually +dying with it clinched between his teeth? + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +5. If he was killed in anger and died as monsters do (her own word), why +did his face show sorrow rather than hate, and a determination as far as +possible removed from the rush of over-whelming emotions likely to +follow the reception of a mortal blow from the hand of an unexpected +antagonist? + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +6. Why, if he had strength to seize the above-mentioned paper and convey +it to his lips, did he not use that strength in turning on a light +calculated to bring him assistance, instead of leaving blazing the +crimson glow which, according to the code of signals as now understood +by us, means: "Nothing more required just now. Keep away?" + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +7. What was the meaning of the huge steel plate found between the +casings of the doorway, and why did it remain at rest within its socket +at this, the culminating, moment of his life? + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +8. An explanation of how old Poindexter came to appear on the scene so +soon after the event. His words as overheard were: "It is Amos' son, not +Amos!" Did he not know whom he was to meet in this house? Was the +condition of the man lying before him with a cross on his bosom and a +dagger in his heart less of a surprise to him than the personality of +the victim? + +[Sidenote: Not Answered] + +9. Remember the conclusions we have drawn from Bartow's pantomime. Mr. +Adams was killed by a left-handed thrust. Watch for an acknowledgment +that the young woman is left-handed, and do not forget that an +explanation is due why for so long a time she held her other arm +stretched out behind her. + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +10. Why did the bird whose chief cry is "Remember Evelyn!" sometimes +vary it with "Poor Eva! Lovely Eva! Who would strike Eva?" The story of +this tragedy, to be true, must show that Mr. Adams knew his brother's +bride both long and well. + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +11. If Bartow is, as we think, innocent of all connection with this +crime save as witness, why does he show such joy at its result? This may +not reasonably be expected to fall within the scope of Thomas Adams's +confession, but it should not be ignored by us. This deaf-and-dumb +servitor was driven mad by the fact which caused him joy. Why?[2] + +[Footnote 2: It must be remembered that the scraps of writing in Felix's +hand had not yet been found by the police. The allusions in them to +Bartow show him to have been possessed by a jealousy which probably +turned to delight when he saw his master smitten down by the object of +that master's love and his own hatred. How he came to recognize in the +bride of another man the owner of the name he so often saw hovering on +the lips of his master, is a question to be answered by more astute +students of the laws of perception than myself. Probably he spent much +of his time at the loophole on the stairway, studying his master till he +understood his every gesture and expression.] + +[Sidenote: Answered] + +12. Notice the following schedule. It has been drawn up after repeated +experiments with Bartow and the various slides of the strange lamp which +cause so many different lights to shine out in Mr. Adams's study: + + White light--Water wanted. + Green light--Overcoat and hat to be brought. + Blue light--Put back books on shelves. + Violet light--Arrange study for the night. + Yellow light--Watch for next light. + Red light--Nothing wanted; stay away. + +The last was on at the final scene. Note if this fact can be explained +by Mr. Adams's account of the same. + + * * * * * + +Two paragraphs alone lacked complete explanation. The first, No. 9, was +important. The description of the stroke dealt by Mr. Adams's wife did +not account for this peculiar feature in Bartow's pantomime. Consulting +with the inspector, Mr. Gryce finally approached Mr. Adams and inquired +if he had strength to enact before them the blow as he had seen it dealt +by his wife. + +The startled young man looked the question he dared not ask. In common +with others, he knew that Bartow had made some characteristic gestures +in endeavoring to describe this crime, but he did not know what they +were, as this especial bit of information had been carefully held back +by the police. He, therefore, did not respond hastily to the suggestion +made him, but thought intently for a moment before he thrust out his +left hand and caught up some article or other from the inspector's table +and made a lunge with it across his body into an imaginary victim at his +right. Then he consulted the faces about him with inexpressible anxiety. +He found little encouragement in their aspect. + +"You would make your wife out left-handed," suggested Mr. Gryce. "Now I +have been watching her ever since she came into this place, and I have +seen no evidence of this." + +"She is not left-handed, but she thrust with her left hand, because her +right was fast held in mine. I had seized her instinctively as she +bounded forward for the weapon, and the convulsive clutch of our two +hands was not loosed till the horror of her act made her faint, and she +fell away from me to the floor crying: 'Tear down the cross and lay it +on your brother's breast. I would at least see him die the death of a +Christian.'" + +Mr. Gryce glanced at the inspector with an air of great relief. The +mystery of the constrained attitude of the right hand which made +Bartow's pantomime so remarkable was now naturally explained, and taking +up the blue pencil which the inspector had laid down, he wrote, with a +smile, a very decided "answered" across paragraph No. 9. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +LAST WORDS. + + +A few minutes later Mr. Gryce was to be seen in the outer room, gazing +curiously at the various persons there collected. He was seeking an +answer to a question that was still disturbing his mind, and hoped to +find it there. He was not disappointed. For in a quiet corner he +encountered the amiable form of Miss Butterworth, calmly awaiting the +result of an interference which she in all probability had been an +active agent in bringing about. + +He approached and smilingly accused her of this. But she disclaimed the +fact with some heat. + +"I was simply there," she explained. "When the crisis came, when this +young creature learned that her husband had left suddenly for New York +in the company of two men, then--why then, it became apparent to every +one that a woman should be at her side who understood her case and the +extremity in which she found herself. And I was that woman." + +"You are always that woman," he gallantly replied, "if by the phrase you +mean being in the right place at the right time. So you are already +acquainted with Mrs. Adams's story?" + +"Yes; the ravings of a moment told me she was the one who had handled +the dagger that slew Mr. Adams. Afterward, she was able to explain the +cause of what has seemed to us such a horrible crime. When I heard her +story, Mr. Gryce, I no longer hesitated either as to her duty or mine. +Do you think she will be called upon to answer for this blow? Will she +be tried, convicted?" + +"Madam, there are not twelve men in the city so devoid of intelligence +as to apply the name of crime to an act which was so evidently one of +self-defence. No true bill will be found against young Mrs. Adams. Rest +easy." + +The look of gloom disappeared from Miss Butterworth's eyes. + +"Then I may return home in peace," she cried. "It has been a desperate +five hours for me, and I feel well shaken up. Will you escort me to my +carriage?" + +Miss Butterworth did not look shaken up. Indeed, in Mr. Gryce's +judgment, she had never appeared more serene or more comfortable. But +she was certainly the best judge of her own condition; and after +satisfying herself that the object of her care was reviving under the +solicitous ministrations of her husband, she took the arm which Mr. +Gryce held out to her and proceeded to her carriage. + +As he assisted her in, he asked a few questions about Mr. Poindexter. + +"Why is not Mrs. Adams's father here? Did he allow his daughter to leave +him on such an errand as this without offering to accompany her?" + +The answer was curtness itself: + +"Mr. Poindexter is a man without heart. He came with us to New York, but +refused to follow us to Police Headquarters. Sir, you will find that the +united passions of three burning souls, and a revenge the most deeply +cherished of any I ever knew or heard of, have been thrown away on a man +who is positively unable to suffer. Do not mention old John Poindexter +to me. And now, if you will be so good, tell the coachman to drive me to +my home in Gramercy Park. I have put my finger in the police pie for the +last time, Mr. Gryce--positively for the last time." And she sank back +on the carriage cushions with an inexorable look, which, nevertheless, +did not quite conceal a quiet complacency which argued that she was not +altogether dissatisfied with herself or the result of her interference +in matters usually considered at variance with a refined woman's natural +instincts. + +Mr. Gryce, in repressing a smile, bowed lower even than his wont, and, +under the shadow of this bow, the carriage drove off. As he walked +slowly back, he sighed. Was he wondering if a case of similar interest +would ever bring them together again in consultation? + + +THE END. + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Circular Study, by Anna Katharine Green + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CIRCULAR STUDY *** + +***** This file should be named 18761.txt or 18761.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/7/6/18761/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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