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diff --git a/22807-h/22807-h.htm b/22807-h/22807-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..72d4c0d --- /dev/null +++ b/22807-h/22807-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1474 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + A Difficult Problem, by Anna Katharine Green (Mrs. Charles Rohlfs) + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Difficult Problem, by +Anna Katharine Green (Mrs. Charles Rohlfs) + +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: A Difficult Problem + 1900 + +Author: Anna Katharine Green (Mrs. Charles Rohlfs) + +Release Date: September 29, 2007 [EBook #22807] +Last Updated: December 18, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DIFFICULT PROBLEM *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + A DIFFICULT PROBLEM + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Anna Katharine Green (Mrs. Charles Rohlfs) + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + Copyright The F. M. Lupton Publishing Company. 1900 + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_000a"> I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> II. </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_000a" id="link2H_4_000a"></a> <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + I. + </h2> + <p> + “A LADY to see you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + I looked up and was at once impressed by the grace and beauty of the + person thus introduced to me. + </p> + <p> + “Is there anything I can do to serve you?” I asked, rising. + </p> + <p> + She cast me a child-like look full of trust and candor as she seated + herself in the chair I pointed out to her. + </p> + <p> + “I believe so, I hope so,” she earnestly assured me. “I—I am in + great trouble. I have just lost my husband—but it is not that. It is + the slip of paper I found on my dresser, and which—which——” + </p> + <p> + She was trembling violently and her words were fast becoming incoherent. I + calmed her and asked her to relate her story just as it had happened; and + after a few minutes of silent struggle she succeeded in collecting herself + sufficiently to respond with some degree of connection and + self-possession. + </p> + <p> + “I have been married six months. My name is Lucy Holmes. For the last few + weeks my husband and myself have been living in an apartment house on + Fifty-ninth Street, and as we had not a care in the world, we were very + happy till Mr. Holmes was called away on business to Philadelphia. This + was two weeks ago. Five days later I received an affectionate letter from + him, in which he promised to come back the next day; and the news so + delighted me that I accepted an invitation to the theater from some + intimate friends of ours. The next morning I naturally felt fatigued and + rose late; but I was very cheerful, for I expected my husband at noon. And + now comes the perplexing mystery. In the course of dressing myself I + stepped to my bureau, and seeing a small newspaper-slip attached to the + cushion by a pin, I drew it off and read it. It was a death notice, and my + hair rose and my limbs failed me as I took in its fatal and incredible + words. + </p> + <p> + “‘Died this day at the Colonnade, James Forsythe De Witt Holmes. New York + papers please copy.’ + </p> + <p> + “James Forsythe De Witt Holmes was my husband, and his last letter, which + was at that very moment lying beside the cushion, had been dated from the + Colonnade. Was I dreaming or under the spell of some frightful + hallucination which led me to misread the name on the slip of paper before + me? I could not determine. My head, throat and chest seemed bound about + with iron, so that I could neither speak nor breathe with freedom, and, + suffering thus, I stood staring at this demoniacal bit of paper which in + an instant had brought the shadow of death upon my happy life. Nor was I + at all relieved when a little later I flew with the notice into a + neighbor’s apartment, and praying her to read it for me, found that my + eyes had not deceived me and that the name was indeed my husband’s and the + notice one of death. + </p> + <p> + “Not from my own mind but from hers came the first suggestion of comfort. + </p> + <p> + “‘It cannot be your husband who is meant,’ said she; ‘but some one of the + same name. Your husband wrote to you yesterday, and this person must have + been dead at least two days for the printed notice of his decease to have + reached New York. Some one has remarked the striking similarity of names, + and wishing to startle you, cut the slip out and pinned it on your + cushion.’ + </p> + <p> + “I certainly knew of no one inconsiderate enough to do this, but the + explanation was so plausible, I at once embraced it and sobbed aloud in my + relief. But in the midst of my rejoicing I heard the bell ring in my + apartment, and running thither, encountered a telegraph boy holding in his + outstretched hand the yellow envelope which so often bespeaks death or + disaster. The sight took my breath away. Summoning my maid, whom I saw + hastening towards me from an inner room, I begged her to open the telegram + for me. Sir, I saw in her face, before she had read the first line, a + confirmation of my very worst fears. My husband was——” + </p> + <p> + The young widow, choked with her emotions, paused, recovered herself for + the second time, and then went on. + </p> + <p> + “I had better show you the telegram.” Taking it from her pocket-book, she + held it towards me. I read it at a glance. It was short, simple and + direct. + </p> + <p> + “Come at once. Your husband found dead in his room this morning. Doctors + say heart disease. Please telegraph.” + </p> + <p> + “You see it says this morning,” she explained, placing her delicate finger + on the word she so eagerly quoted. “That means a week ago Wednesday, the + same day on which the printed slip recording his death was found on my + cushion. Do you not see something very strange in this?” + </p> + <p> + I did; but, before I ventured to express myself on this subject, I desired + her to tell me what she had learned in her visit to Philadelphia. + </p> + <p> + Her answer was simple and straightforward. + </p> + <p> + “But little more than you find in this telegram. He died in his room. He + was found lying on the floor near the bell button, which he had evidently + risen to touch. One hand was clenched on his chest, but his face wore a + peaceful look as if death had come too suddenly to cause him much + suffering. His bed was undisturbed; he had died before retiring, possibly + in the act of packing his trunk, for it was found nearly ready for the + expressman. Indeed, there was every evidence of his intention to leave on + an early morning train. He had even desired to be awakened at six o’clock; + and it was his failure to respond to the summons of the bell-boy, which + led to so early a discovery of his death. He had never complained of any + distress in breathing, and we had always considered him a perfectly + healthy man; but there was no reason for assigning any other cause than + heart-failure to his sudden death, and so the burial certificate was made + out to that effect, and I was allowed to bring him home and bury him in + our vault at Wood-lawn. But—” and here her earnestness dried up the + tears which had been flowing freely during this recital of her husband’s + lonely death and sad burial,—“do you not think an investigation + should be made into a death preceded by a false obituary notice? For I + found when I was in Philadelphia that no paragraph such as I had found + pinned to my cushion had been inserted in any paper there, nor had any + other man of the same name ever registered at the Colonnade, much less + died there.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you this notice with you?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + She immediately produced it, and while I was glancing it over remarked: + </p> + <p> + “Some persons would give a superstitious explanation to the whole matter; + think I had received a supernatural warning and been satisfied with what + they would call a spiritual manifestation. But I have not a bit of such + folly in my composition. Living hands set up the type and printed the + words which gave me so deathly a shock; and hands, with a real purpose in + them, cut it from the paper and pinned it to my cushion for me to see when + I woke on that fatal morning. But whose hands? That is what I want you to + discover.” + </p> + <p> + I had caught the fever of her suspicions long before this and now felt + justified in showing my interest. + </p> + <p> + “First, let me ask,” said I, “who has access to your rooms besides your + maid?” + </p> + <p> + “No one; absolutely no one.” + </p> + <p> + “And what of her?” + </p> + <p> + “She is innocence itself. She is no common housemaid, but a girl my mother + brought up, who for love of me consents to do such work in the household + as my simple needs require.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to see her.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no objection to your doing so; but you will gain nothing by it. + I have already talked the subject over with her a dozen times and she is + as much puzzled by it as I am myself. She says she cannot see how any one + could have found an entrance to my room during my sleep, as the doors were + all locked. Yet, as she very naturally observes, some one must have done + so, for she was in my bedroom herself just before I returned from the + theater, and can swear, if necessary, that no such slip of paper was to be + seen on my cushion, at that time, for her duties led her directly to my + bureau and kept her there for full five minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “And you believed her?” I suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Implicitly.” + </p> + <p> + “In what direction, then, do your suspicions turn?” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! in no direction. That is the trouble. I don’t know whom to + mistrust. It was because I was told that you had the credit of seeing + light where others can see nothing but darkness, that I have sought your + aid in this emergency. For the uncertainty surrounding this matter is + killing me and will make my sorrow quite unendurable if I cannot obtain + relief from it.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not wonder,” I began, struck by the note of truth in her tones. “And + I shall certainly do what I can for you. But before we go any further, let + us examine this scrap of newspaper and see what we can make out of it.” + </p> + <p> + I had already noted two or three points in connection with it, to which I + now proceeded to direct her attention. + </p> + <p> + “Have you compared this notice,” I pursued, “with such others as you find + every day in the papers?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” was her eager answer. “Is it not like them all——” + </p> + <p> + “Read,” was my quiet interruption. “‘On this day at the Colonnade—’ + On what day? The date is usually given in all the <i>bona-fide</i> notices + I have seen.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it?” she asked, her eyes moist with un-shed tears, opening widely in + her astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Look in the papers on your return home and see. Then the print. Observe + that the type is identical on both sides of this make-believe clipping, + while in fact there is always a perceptible difference between that used + in the obituary column and that to be found in the columns devoted to + other matter. Notice also,” I continued, holding up the scrap of paper + between her and the light, “that the alignment on one side is not exactly + parallel with that on the other; a discrepancy which would not exist if + both sides had been printed on a newspaper press. These facts lead me to + conclude, first, that the effort to match the type exactly was the mistake + of a man who tries to do too much; and secondly, that one of the sides at + least, presumably that containing the obituary notice, was printed on a + hand-press, on the blank side of a piece of galley proof picked up in some + newspaper office.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me see.” And stretching out her hand with the utmost eagerness, she + took the slip and turned it over. Instantly a change took place in her + countenance. She sank back in her seat and a blush of manifest confusion + suffused her cheeks. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “what will you think of me! I + brought this scrap of print into the house <i>myself</i> and it was <i>I</i> + who pinned it on the cushion with my own hands! I remember it now. The + sight of those words recalls the whole occurrence.” + </p> + <p> + “Then there is one mystery less for us to solve,” I remarked, somewhat + dryly. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so,” she protested, with a deprecatory look. “For me the + mystery deepens, and becomes every minute more serious. It is true that I + brought this scrap of newspaper into the house, and that it had, then as + now, the notice of my husband’s death upon it, but the time of my bringing + it in was Tuesday night, and he was not found dead till Wednesday + morning.” + </p> + <p> + “A discrepancy worth noting,” I remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Involving a mystery of some importance,” she concluded. + </p> + <p> + I agreed to that. + </p> + <p> + “And since we have discovered how the slip came into your room, we can now + proceed to the clearing up of this mystery,” I observed. “You can, of + course, inform me where you procured this clipping which you say you + brought into the house?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. You may think it strange, but when I alighted from the carriage that + night, a man on the sidewalk put this tiny scrap of paper into my hand. It + was done so mechanically that it made no more impression on my mind than + the thrusting of an advertisement upon me. Indeed, I supposed it was an + advertisement, and I only wonder that I retained it in my hand at all. But + that I did do so, and that, in a moment of abstraction I went so far as to + pin it to my cushion, is evident from the fact that a vague memory remains + in my mind of having read this recipe which you see printed on the reverse + side of the paper.” + </p> + <p> + “It was the recipe, then, and not the obituary notice which attracted your + attention the night before?” + </p> + <p> + “Probably, but in pinning it to the cushion, it was the obituary notice + that chanced to come uppermost. Oh, why should I not have remembered this + till now! Can you understand my forgetting a matter of so much + importance?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I allowed, after a momentary consideration of her ingenuous + countenance. “The words you read in the morning were so startling that + they disconnected themselves from those you had carelessly glanced at the + night before.” + </p> + <p> + “That is it,” she replied; “and since then I have had eyes for the one + side only. How could I think of the other? But who could have printed this + thing and who was the man who put it into my hand? He looked like a beggar + but—Oh!” she suddenly exclaimed, her cheeks flushing scarlet and her + eyes flashing with a feverish, almost alarming, glitter. + </p> + <p> + “What is it now?” I asked. “Another recollection?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” She spoke so low I could hardly hear her. “He coughed and——” + </p> + <p> + “And what?” I encouragingly suggested, seeing that she was under some new + and overwhelming emotion. + </p> + <p> + “That cough had a familiar sound, now that I think of it. It was like that + of a friend who—But no, no; I will not wrong him by any false + surmises. He would stoop to much, but not to that; yet——” + </p> + <p> + The flush on her cheeks had died away, but the two vivid spots which + remained showed the depth of her excitement. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think,” she suddenly asked, “that a man out of revenge might plan + to frighten me by a false notice of my husband’s death, and that God to + punish him, made the notice a prophecy?” + </p> + <p> + “I think a man influenced by the spirit of revenge might do almost + anything,” I answered, purposely ignoring the latter part of her question. + </p> + <p> + “But I always considered him a good man. At least I never looked upon him + as a wicked one. Every other beggar we meet has a cough; and yet,” she + added after a moment’s pause, “if it was not he who gave me this mortal + shock, who was it? He is the only person in the world I ever wronged.” + </p> + <p> + “Had you not better tell me his name?” I suggested. + </p> + <p> + “No, I am in too great doubt. I should hate to do him a second injury.” + </p> + <p> + “You cannot injure him if he is innocent. My methods are very safe.” + </p> + <p> + “If I could forget his cough! but it had that peculiar catch in it that I + remembered so well in the cough of John Graham. I did not pay any especial + heed to it at the time. Old days and old troubles were far enough from my + thoughts; but now that my suspicions are raised, that low, choking sound + comes back to me in a strangely persistent way, and I seem to see a + well-remembered form in the stooping figure of this beggar. Oh, I hope the + good God will forgive me if I attribute to this disappointed man a + wickedness he never committed.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is John Graham?” I urged, “and what was the nature of the wrong you + did him?” + </p> + <p> + She rose, cast me one appealing glance, and perceiving that I meant to + have her whole story, turned towards the fire and stood warming her feet + before the hearth, with her face turned away from my gaze. + </p> + <p> + “I was once engaged to marry him,” she began. “Not because I loved him, + but because we were very poor—I mean my mother and myself—and + he had a home and seemed both good and generous. The day came when we were + to be married—this was in the West, way out in Kansas—and I + was even dressed for the wedding, when a letter came from my uncle here, a + rich uncle, very rich, who had never had anything to do with my mother + since her marriage, and in it he promised me fortune and everything else + desirable in life if I would come to him, unencumbered by any foolish + ties. Think of it! And I within half an hour of marriage with a man I had + never loved and now suddenly hated. The temptation was overwhelming, and + heartless as my conduct may appear to you, I succumbed to it. Telling my + lover that I had changed my mind, I dismissed the minister when he came, + and announced my intention of proceeding East as soon as possible. Mr. + Graham was simply paralyzed by his disappointment, and during the few days + which intervened before my departure, I was haunted by his face, which was + like that of a man who had died from some overwhelming shock. But when I + was once free of the town, especially after I arrived in New York, I + forgot alike his misery and himself. Everything I saw was so beautiful! + Life was so full of charm, and my uncle so delighted with me and + everything I did! Then there was James Holmes, and after I had seen him—But + I cannot talk of that. We loved each other, and under the surprise of this + new delight how could I be expected to remember the man I had left behind + me in that barren region in which I had spent my youth? But he did not + forget the misery I had caused him. He followed me to New York: and on the + morning I was married found his way into the house, and mixing with the + wedding guests, suddenly appeared before me just as I was receiving the + congratulations of my friends. At sight of him I experienced all the + terror he had calculated upon causing, but remembering at whose side I + stood, I managed to hide my confusion under an aspect of apparent + haughtiness. This irritated John Graham. Flushing with anger, and ignoring + my imploring look, he cried peremptorily, ‘Present me to your husband!’ + and I felt forced to present him. But his name produced no effect upon Mr. + Holmes. I had never told him of my early experience with this man, and + John Graham, perceiving this, cast me a bitter glance of disdain and + passed on, muttering between his teeth, ‘False to me and false to him! + Your punishment be upon you!’ and I felt as if I had been cursed.” + </p> + <p> + She stopped here, moved by emotions readily to be understood. Then with + quick impetuosity she caught up the thread of her story and went on. + </p> + <p> + “That was six months ago; and again I forgot. My mother died and my + husband soon absorbed my every thought. How could I dream that this man, + who was little more than a memory to me and scarcely that, was secretly + planning mischief against me? Yet this scrap about which we have talked so + much may have been the work of his hands; and even my husband’s death——” + </p> + <p> + She did not finish, but her face, which was turned towards me, spoke + volumes. + </p> + <p> + “Your husband’s death shall be inquired into,” I assured her. And she, + exhausted by the excitement of her discoveries, asked that she might be + excused from further discussion of the subject at that time. + </p> + <p> + As I had no wish, myself, to enter any more fully into the matter just + then, I readily acceded to her request, and the pretty widow left me. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. + </h2> + <p> + Obviously the first fact to be settled was whether Mr. Holmes had died + from purely natural causes. I accordingly busied myself the next few days + with this question, and was fortunate enough to so interest the proper + authorities that an order was issued for the exhumation and examination of + the body. + </p> + <p> + The result was disappointing. No traces of poison were to be, found in the + stomach nor was there to be seen on the body any mark of violence, with + the exception of a minute prick upon one of his thumbs. + </p> + <p> + This speck was so small that it escaped every eye but my own. + </p> + <p> + The authorities assuring the widow that the doctor’s certificate given her + in Philadelphia was correct, he was again interred. But I was not + satisfied; neither do I think she was. I was confident that his death was + not a natural one, and entered upon one of those secret and prolonged + investigations which have constituted the pleasure of my life for so many + years. First, I visited the Colonnade in Philadelphia, and being allowed + to see the room in which Mr. Holmes died, went through it carefully. As it + had not been used since that time I had some hopes of coming upon a clue. + </p> + <p> + But it was a vain hope and the only result of my journey to this place was + the assurance I received that the gentleman had spent the entire evening + preceding his death, in his own room, where he had been brought several + letters and one small package, the latter coming by mail. With this one + point gained—if it was a point—I went back to New York. + </p> + <p> + Calling on Mrs. Holmes, I asked her if, while her husband was away she had + sent him anything besides letters, and upon her replying to the contrary, + requested to know if in her visit to Philadelphia she had noted among her + husband’s effects anything that was new or unfamiliar to her, “For he + received a package while there,” I explained, “and though its contents may + have been perfectly harmless, it is just as well for us to be assured of + this, before going any further.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you think, then, he was really the victim of some secret violence.” + </p> + <p> + “We have no proof of it,” I said. “On the contrary, we are assured that he + died from natural causes. But the incident of the newspaper slip + outweighs, in my mind, the doctor’s conclusions, and until the mystery + surrounding that obituary notice has been satisfactorily explained by its + author, I shall hold to the theory that your husband has been made away + with in some strange and seemingly unaccountable manner, which it is our + duty to bring to light.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right! You are right! Oh, John Graham!” + </p> + <p> + She was so carried away by this plain expression of my belief that she + forgot the question I had put to her. + </p> + <p> + “You have not told whether or not you found anything among your husband’s + effects that can explain this mystery,” I suggested. + </p> + <p> + She at once became attentive. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” said she: “his trunks were already packed and his bag nearly + so. There were a few things lying about the room which were put into the + latter, but I saw nothing but what was familiar to me among them; at + least, I think not; perhaps we had better look through his trunk and see. + I have not had the heart to open it since I came back.” + </p> + <p> + As this was exactly what I wished, I said as much, and she led me into a + small room, against the wall of which stood a trunk with a traveling-bag + on top of it. Opening the latter, she spread the contents out on the + trunk. + </p> + <p> + “I know all these things,” she sadly murmured, the tears welling in her + eyes. + </p> + <p> + “This?” I inquired, lifting up a bit of coiled wire with two or three + little rings dangling from it. + </p> + <p> + “No; why, what is that?” + </p> + <p> + “It looks like a puzzle of some kind.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it is of no consequence. My husband was forever amusing himself over + some such contrivance. All his friends knew how well he liked these toys + and frequently sent them to him. This one evidently reached him in + Philadelphia.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile I was eying the bit of wire curiously. It was undoubtedly a + puzzle, but it had appendages to it that I did not understand. + </p> + <p> + “It is more than ordinarily complicated,” I observed, moving the rings up + and down in a vain endeavor to work them off. + </p> + <p> + “The better he would like it,” said she. + </p> + <p> + I kept on working with the rings. Suddenly I gave a painful start. A + little prong in the handle of the toy had started out and pricked me. + </p> + <p> + “You had better not handle it,” said I, and laid it down. But the next + minute I took it up again and put it in my pocket. The prick made by this + treacherous bit of mechanism was in or near the same place on my thumb as + the one I had noticed on the hand of the deceased Mr. Holmes. + </p> + <p> + There was a fire in the room, and before proceeding further, I cauterized + that prick with the end of a red-hot poker. Then I made my adieux to Mrs. + Holmes and went immediately to a chemist friend of mine. + </p> + <p> + “Test the end of this bit of steel for me,” said I. “I have reason to + believe it carries with it a deadly poison.” + </p> + <p> + He took the toy, promised to subject it to every test possible and let me + know the result. Then I went home. I felt ill, or imagined that I did, + which under the circumstances was almost as bad. + </p> + <p> + Next day, however, I was quite well, with the exception of a certain + inconvenience in my thumb. But not till the following week did I receive + the chemist’s report. It overthrew my whole theory. He had found nothing, + and returned me the bit of steel. + </p> + <p> + But I was not convinced. + </p> + <p> + “I will hunt up this John Graham,” thought I, “and study him.” + </p> + <p> + But this was not so easy a task as it may appear. As Mrs. Holmes possessed + no clue to the whereabouts of her quondam lover, I had nothing to aid me + in my search for him, save her rather vague description of his personal + appearance and the fact that he was constantly interrupted in speaking by + a low, choking cough. However, my natural perseverance carried me through. + After seeing and interviewing a dozen John Grahams without result, I at + last lit upon a man of that name who presented a figure of such vivid + unrest and showed such desperate hatred of his fellows, that I began to + entertain hopes of his being the person I was in search of. But determined + to be sure of this before proceeding further, I confided my suspicions to + Mrs. Holmes, and induced her to accompany me down to a certain spot on the + “Elevated” from which I had more than once seen this man go by to his + usual lounging place in Printing-house Square. + </p> + <p> + She showed great courage in doing this, for she had such a dread of him + that she was in a state of nervous excitement from the moment she left her + house, feeling sure that she would attract his attention and thus risk a + disagreeable encounter. But she might have spared herself these fears. He + did not even glance up in passing us, and it was mainly by his walk she + recognized him. But she did recognize him; and this nerved me at once to + set about the formidable task of fixing upon him a crime which was not + even admitted as a fact by the authorities. + </p> + <p> + He was a man-about-town, living, to all appearance, by his wits. He was to + be seen mostly in the downtown portions of the city, standing for hours in + front of some newspaper office, gnawing at his finger-ends, and staring at + the passers-by with a hungry look that alarmed the timid and provoked alms + from the benevolent. Needless to say that he rejected the latter + expression of sympathy, with angry contempt. + </p> + <p> + His face was long and pallid, his cheek-bones high and his mouth bitter + and resolute in expression. He wore neither beard nor mustache, but made + up for their lack by an abundance of light brown hair, which hung very + nearly to his shoulders. He stooped in standing, but as soon as he moved, + showed decision and a certain sort of pride which caused him to hold his + head high and his body more than usually erect. With all these good points + his appearance was decidedly sinister, and I did not wonder that Mrs. + Holmes feared him. + </p> + <p> + My next move was to accost him. Pausing before the doorway in which he + stood, I addressed him some trivial question. He answered me with + sufficient politeness, but with a grudging attention which betrayed the + hold which his own thoughts had upon him. He coughed while speaking and + his eye, which for a moment rested on mine, produced upon me an impression + for which I was hardly prepared, great as was my prejudice against him. + There was such an icy composure in it; the composure of an envenomed + nature conscious of its superiority to all surprise. As I lingered to + study him more closely, the many dangerous qualities of the man became + more and more apparent to me; and convinced that to proceed further + without deep and careful thought, would be to court failure where triumph + would set me up for life, I gave up all present attempt at enlisting him + in conversation, and went my way in an inquiring and serious mood. + </p> + <p> + In fact, my position was a peculiar one, and the problem I had set for + myself one of unusual difficulty. Only by means of some extraordinary + device such as is seldom resorted to by the police of this or any other + nation, could I hope to arrive at the secret of this man’s conduct, and + triumph in a matter which to all appearance was beyond human penetration. + </p> + <p> + But what device? I knew of none, nor through two days and nights of + strenuous thought did I receive the least light on the subject. Indeed, my + mind seemed to grow more and more confused the more I urged it into + action. I failed to get inspiration indoors or out; and feeling my health + suffer from the constant irritation of my recurring disappointment, I + resolved to take a day off and carry myself and my perplexities into the + country. + </p> + <p> + I did so. Governed by an impulse which I did not then understand, I went + to a small town in New Jersey and entered the first house on which I saw + the sign “Room to Let.” The result was most fortunate. No sooner had I + crossed the threshold of the neat and homely apartment thrown open to my + use, than it recalled a room in which I had slept two years before and in + which I had read a little book I was only too glad to remember at this + moment. Indeed, it seemed as if a veritable inspiration had come to me + through this recollection, for though the tale to which I allude was a + simple child’s story written for moral purposes, it contained an idea + which promised to be invaluable to me at this juncture. Indeed, by means + of it, I believed myself to have solved the problem that was puzzling me, + and relieved beyond expression, I paid for the night’s lodging I had now + determined to forego, and returned immediately to New York, having spent + just fifteen minutes in the town where I had received this happy + inspiration. + </p> + <p> + My first step on entering the city was to order a dozen steel coils made + similar to the one which I still believed answerable for James Holmes’ + death. My next to learn as far as possible all of John Graham’s haunts and + habits. At a week’s end I had the springs and knew almost as well as he + did himself where he was likely to be found at all times of the day and + night. I immediately acted upon this knowledge. Assuming a slight + disguise, I repeated my former stroll through Printing-house Square, + looking into each doorway as I passed. John Graham was in one of them, + staring in his old way at the passing crowd, but evidently seeing nothing + but the images formed by his own disordered brain. A manuscript-roll stuck + out of his breast-pocket, and from the way his nervous fingers fumbled + with it, I began to understand the restless glitter of his eyes, which + were as full of wretchedness as any eyes I have ever seen. + </p> + <p> + Entering the doorway where he stood, I dropped at his feet one of the + small steel coils with which I was provided. He did not see it. Stopping + near him I directed his attention to it by saying: + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, but did I not see something drop out of your hand?” + </p> + <p> + He started, glanced at the seeming inoffensive toy at which I pointed, and + altered so suddenly and so vividly that it became instantly apparent that + the surprise I had planned for him was fully as keen and searching a one + as I had anticipated. Recoiling sharply, he gave me a quick look, then + glanced down again at his feet as if half expecting to find the object + vanished which had startled him. But, perceiving it still lying there, he + crushed it viciously with his heel, and uttering some incoherent words, + dashed impetuously from the building. + </p> + <p> + Confident that he would regret this hasty impulse and return, I withdrew a + few steps and waited. And sure enough, in less than five minutes he came + slinking back. Picking up the coil with more than one sly look about, he + examined it closely. Suddenly he gave a sharp cry and went staggering out. + Had he discovered that the seeming puzzle possessed the same invisible + spring which had made the one handled by James Holmes so dangerous? + </p> + <p> + Certain as to the place he would be found in next, I made a short cut to + an obscure little saloon in Nassau Street, where I took up my stand in a + spot convenient for seeing without being seen. In ten minutes he was + standing at the bar asking for a drink. + </p> + <p> + “Whiskey!” he cried, “straight.” + </p> + <p> + It was given him; but as he set the empty glass down on the counter, he + saw lying before him another of the steel springs, and was so confounded + by the sight that the proprietor, who had put it there at my instigation, + thrust out his hand toward him as if half afraid he would fall. + </p> + <p> + “Where did that—that <i>thing</i> come from?” stammered John Graham, + ignoring the other’s gesture and pointing with a trembling hand at the + seemingly insignificant bit of wire between them. + </p> + <p> + “Didn’t it drop from your coat-pocket?” inquired the proprietor. “It + wasn’t lying here before you came in.” + </p> + <p> + With a horrible oath the unhappy man turned and fled from the place. I + lost sight of him after that for three hours, then I suddenly came upon + him again. He was walking up town with a set purpose in his face that made + him look more dangerous than ever. Of course I followed him, expecting him + to turn towards Fifty-ninth Street, but at the corner of Madison Avenue + and Forty-seventh Street he changed his mind and dashed toward Third + Avenue. At Park Avenue he faltered and again turned north, walking for + several blocks as if the fiends were behind him. I began to think that he + was but attempting to walk off his excitement, when, at a sudden rushing + sound in the cut beside us, he stopped and trembled. An express train was + shooting by. As it disappeared in the tunnel beyond, he looked about him + with a blanched face and wandering eye; but his glance did not turn my + way, or if it did, he failed to attach any meaning to my near presence. + </p> + <p> + He began to move on again and this time towards the bridge spanning the + cut. I followed him very closely. In the center of it he paused and looked + down at the track beneath him. Another train was approaching. As it came + near he trembled from head to foot, and catching at the railing against + which he leaned, was about to make a quick move forward when a puff of + smoke arose from below and sent him staggering backward, gasping with a + terror I could hardly understand till I saw that the smoke had taken the + form of a spiral and was sailing away before him in what to his disordered + imagination must have looked like a gigantic image of the coil with which + twice before on this day he had found himself confronted. + </p> + <p> + It may have been chance and it may have been providence; but whichever it + was it saved him. He could not face that semblance of his haunting + thought; and turning away he cowered down on the neighboring curbstone, + where he sat for several minutes, with his head buried in his hands; when + he rose again he was his own daring and sinister self. Knowing that he was + now too much master of his faculties to ignore me any longer, I walked + quickly away and left him. I knew where he would be at six o’clock and had + already engaged a table at the same restaurant. It was seven, however, + before he put in an appearance, and by this time he was looking more + composed. There was a reckless air about him, however, which was perhaps + only noticeable to me; for none of the habitues of this especial + restaurant were entirely without it; wild eyes and unkempt hair being in + the majority. + </p> + <p> + I let him eat. The dinner he ordered was simple and I had not the heart to + interrupt his enjoyment of it. + </p> + <p> + But when he had finished; and came to pay, then I allowed the shock to + come. Under the bill which the waiter laid at the side of his plate was + the inevitable steel coil; and it produced even more than its usual + effect. I own I felt sorry for him. + </p> + <p> + He did not dash from the place, however, as he had from the liquor-saloon. + A spirit of resistance had seized him and he demanded to know where this + object of his fear had come from. No one could tell him (or would). + Whereupon he began to rave and would certainly have done himself or + somebody else an injury if he had not been calmed by a man almost as + wild-looking as himself. Paying his bill, but vowing he would never enter + the place again, he went out, clay-white, but with the swaggering air of a + man who had just asserted himself. + </p> + <p> + He drooped, however, as soon as he reached the street, and I had no + difficulty in following him to a certain gambling den where he gained + three dollars and lost five. From there he went to his lodgings in West + Tenth Street. + </p> + <p> + I did not follow him in. He had passed through many deep and wearing + emotions since noon, and I had not the heart to add another to them. + </p> + <p> + But late the next day I returned to this house and rang the bell. It was + already dusk, but there was light enough for me to notice the unrepaired + condition of the iron railings on either side of the old stone stoop and + to compare this abode of decayed grandeur with the spacious and elegant + apartment in which pretty Mrs. Holmes mourned the loss of her young + husband. Had any such comparison ever been made by the unhappy John + Graham, as he hurried up these decayed steps into the dismal halls beyond? + </p> + <p> + In answer to my summons there came to the door a young woman to whom I had + but to intimate my wish to see Mr. Graham for her to let me in with the + short announcement: + </p> + <p> + “Top floor, back room! Door open, he’s out; door shut, he’s in.” + </p> + <p> + As an open door meant liberty to enter, I lost no time in following the + direction of her pointing finger, and presently found myself in a low + attic chamber overlooking an acre of roofs. A fire had been lighted in the + open grate, and the flickering red beams danced on ceiling and walls with + a cheeriness greatly in contrast to the nature of the business which had + led me there. As they also served to light the room I proceeded to make + myself at home; and drawing up a chair, sat down at the fireplace in such + a way as to conceal myself from any one entering the door. + </p> + <p> + In less than half an hour he came in. + </p> + <p> + He was in a state of high emotion. His face was flushed and his eyes + burning. Stepping rapidly forward, he flung his hat on the table in the + middle of the room, with a curse that was half cry and half groan. Then he + stood silent and I had an opportunity of noting how haggard he had grown + in the short time which had elapsed since I had seen him last. But the + interval of his inaction was short, and in a moment he flung up his arms + with a loud “Curse her!” that rang through the narrow room and betrayed + the source of his present frenzy. Then he again stood still, grating his + teeth and working his hands in a way terribly suggestive of the murderer’s + instinct. But not for long. He saw something that attracted his attention + on the table, a something upon which my eyes had long before been fixed, + and starting forward with a fresh and quite different display of emotion, + he caught up what looked like a roll of manuscript and began to tear it + open. + </p> + <p> + “Back again! Always back!” wailed from his lips; and he gave the roll a + toss that sent from its midst a small object which he no sooner saw than + he became speechless and reeled back. It was another of the steel coils. + </p> + <p> + “Good God!” fell at last from his stiff and working lips. “Am I mad or has + the devil joined in the pursuit against me? I cannot eat, I cannot drink, + but this diabolical spring starts up before me. It is here, there, + everywhere. The visible sign of my guilt; the—the——” He + had stumbled back upon my chair, and turning, saw me. + </p> + <p> + I was on my feet at once, and noting that he was dazed by the shock of my + presence, I slid quietly between him and the door. + </p> + <p> + The movement roused him. Turning upon me with a sarcastic smile in which + was concentrated the bitterness of years, he briefly said: + </p> + <p> + “So, I am caught! Well, there has to be an end to men as well as to + things, and I am ready for mine. She turned me away from her door to-day, + and after the hell of that moment I don’t much fear any other.” + </p> + <p> + “You had better not talk,” I admonished him. “All that falls from you now + will only tell against you on your trial.” + </p> + <p> + He broke into a harsh laugh. “And do you think I care for that? That + having been driven by a woman’s perfidy into crime I am going to bridle my + tongue and keep down the words which are my only safeguard from insanity? + No, no; while my miserable breath lasts I will curse her, and if the + halter is to cut short my words, it shall be with her name blistering my + lips.” + </p> + <p> + I attempted to speak, but he would not give me the opportunity. The + passion of weeks had found vent and he rushed on recklessly. + </p> + <p> + “I went to her house to-day. I wanted to see her in her widow’s weeds; I + wanted to see her eyes red with weeping over a grief which owed its + bitterness to me. But she would not grant me an admittance. She had me + thrust from her door, and I shall never know how deeply the iron has sunk + into her soul. But—” and here his face showed a sudden change, “I + shall see her if I am tried for murder. She will be in the court-room,—on + the witness stand——” + </p> + <p> + “Doubtless,” I interjected; but his interruption came quickly and with + vehement passion. + </p> + <p> + “Then I am ready. Welcome trial, conviction, death, even. To confront her + eye to eye is all I wish. She shall never forget it, never!” + </p> + <p> + “Then you do not deny——” I began. + </p> + <p> + “I deny nothing,” he returned, and held out his hands with a grim gesture. + “How can I, when there falls from everything I touch, the devilish thing + which took away the life I hated?” + </p> + <p> + “Have you anything more to say or do before you leave these rooms?” I + asked. + </p> + <p> + He shook his head, and then, bethinking himself, pointed to the roll of + paper which he had flung on the table. + </p> + <p> + “Burn that!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + I took up the roll and looked at it. It was the manuscript of a poem in + blank verse. + </p> + <p> + “I have been with it into a dozen newspaper and magazine offices,” he + explained with great bitterness. “Had I succeeded in getting a publisher + for it I might have forgotten my wrongs and tried to build up a new life + on the ruins of the old. But they would not have it, none of them, so I + say, burn it! that no memory of me may remain in this miserable world.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep to the facts!” I severely retorted. “It was while carrying this poem + from one newspaper to another that you secured that bit of print upon the + blank side of which you yourself printed the obituary notice with which + you savored your revenge upon the woman who had disappointed you.” + </p> + <p> + “You know that? Then you know where I got the poison with which I tipped + the silly toy with which that weak man fooled away his life?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said I, “I do not know where you got it. I merely know it was no + common poison bought at a druggist’s, or from any ordinary chemist.” + </p> + <p> + “It was woorali; the deadly, secret woorali. I got it from—but that + is another man’s secret. You will never hear from me anything that will + compromise a friend. I got it, that is all. One drop, but it killed my + man.” + </p> + <p> + The satisfaction, the delight, which he threw into these words are beyond + description. As they left his lips a jet of flame from the neglected fire + shot up and threw his figure for one instant into bold relief upon the + lowering ceiling; then it died out, and nothing but the twilight dusk + remained in the room and on the countenance of this doomed and despairing + man. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Difficult Problem, by +Anna Katharine Green (Mrs. Charles Rohlfs) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DIFFICULT PROBLEM *** + +***** This file should be named 22807-h.htm or 22807-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/8/0/22807/ + +Produced by David Widger + +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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