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diff --git a/22807-0.txt b/22807-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5e6524c --- /dev/null +++ b/22807-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1243 @@ +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 + + + + + +A DIFFICULT PROBLEM + +By Anna Katharine Green (Mrs. Charles Rohlfs) + +Copyright The F. M. Lupton Publishing Company. 1900 + + + +“A LADY to see you, sir.” + +I looked up and was at once impressed by the grace and beauty of the +person thus introduced to me. + +“Is there anything I can do to serve you?” I asked, rising. + +She cast me a child-like look full of trust and candor as she seated +herself in the chair I pointed out to her. + +“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----” + +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. + +“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. + +“‘Died this day at the Colonnade, James Forsythe De Witt Holmes. New +York papers please copy.’ + +“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. + +“Not from my own mind but from hers came the first suggestion of +comfort. + +“‘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.’ + +“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----” + +The young widow, choked with her emotions, paused, recovered herself for +the second time, and then went on. + +“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. + +“Come at once. Your husband found dead in his room this morning. Doctors +say heart disease. Please telegraph.” + +“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?” + +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. + +Her answer was simple and straightforward. + +“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.” + +“Have you this notice with you?” I asked. + +She immediately produced it, and while I was glancing it over remarked: + +“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.” + +I had caught the fever of her suspicions long before this and now felt +justified in showing my interest. + +“First, let me ask,” said I, “who has access to your rooms besides your +maid?” + +“No one; absolutely no one.” + +“And what of her?” + +“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.” + +“I should like to see her.” + +“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.” + +“And you believed her?” I suggested. + +“Implicitly.” + +“In what direction, then, do your suspicions turn?” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +I had already noted two or three points in connection with it, to which +I now proceeded to direct her attention. + +“Have you compared this notice,” I pursued, “with such others as you +find every day in the papers?” + +“No,” was her eager answer. “Is it not like them all----” + +“Read,” was my quiet interruption. “‘On this day at the Colonnade--’ +On what day? The date is usually given in all the _bona-fide_ notices I +have seen.” + +“Is it?” she asked, her eyes moist with un-shed tears, opening widely in +her astonishment. + +“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.” + +“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 _myself_ and it was _I_ who +pinned it on the cushion with my own hands! I remember it now. The sight +of those words recalls the whole occurrence.” + +“Then there is one mystery less for us to solve,” I remarked, somewhat +dryly. + +“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.” + +“A discrepancy worth noting,” I remarked. + +“Involving a mystery of some importance,” she concluded. + +I agreed to that. + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“It was the recipe, then, and not the obituary notice which attracted +your attention the night before?” + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“What is it now?” I asked. “Another recollection?” + +“Yes.” She spoke so low I could hardly hear her. “He coughed and----” + +“And what?” I encouragingly suggested, seeing that she was under some +new and overwhelming emotion. + +“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----” + +The flush on her cheeks had died away, but the two vivid spots which +remained showed the depth of her excitement. + +“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?” + +“I think a man influenced by the spirit of revenge might do almost +anything,” I answered, purposely ignoring the latter part of her +question. + +“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.” + +“Had you not better tell me his name?” I suggested. + +“No, I am in too great doubt. I should hate to do him a second injury.” + +“You cannot injure him if he is innocent. My methods are very safe.” + +“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.” + +“Who is John Graham?” I urged, “and what was the nature of the wrong you +did him?” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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----” + +She did not finish, but her face, which was turned towards me, spoke +volumes. + +“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. + +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. + + + + + +II. + +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. + +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. + +This speck was so small that it escaped every eye but my own. + +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. + +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. + +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.” + +“Oh, you think, then, he was really the victim of some secret violence.” + +“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.” + +“You are right! You are right! Oh, John Graham!” + +She was so carried away by this plain expression of my belief that she +forgot the question I had put to her. + +“You have not told whether or not you found anything among your +husband’s effects that can explain this mystery,” I suggested. + +She at once became attentive. + +“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.” + +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. + +“I know all these things,” she sadly murmured, the tears welling in her +eyes. + +“This?” I inquired, lifting up a bit of coiled wire with two or three +little rings dangling from it. + +“No; why, what is that?” + +“It looks like a puzzle of some kind.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“It is more than ordinarily complicated,” I observed, moving the rings +up and down in a vain endeavor to work them off. + +“The better he would like it,” said she. + +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. + +“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. + +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. + +“Test the end of this bit of steel for me,” said I. “I have reason to +believe it carries with it a deadly poison.” + +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. + +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. + +But I was not convinced. + +“I will hunt up this John Graham,” thought I, “and study him.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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: + +“Pardon me, but did I not see something drop out of your hand?” + +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. + +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? + +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. + +“Whiskey!” he cried, “straight.” + +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. + +“Where did that--that _thing_ 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. + +“Didn’t it drop from your coat-pocket?” inquired the proprietor. “It +wasn’t lying here before you came in.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +I let him eat. The dinner he ordered was simple and I had not the heart +to interrupt his enjoyment of it. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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? + +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: + +“Top floor, back room! Door open, he’s out; door shut, he’s in.” + +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. + +In less than half an hour he came in. + +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. + +“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. + +“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. + +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. + +The movement roused him. Turning upon me with a sarcastic smile in which +was concentrated the bitterness of years, he briefly said: + +“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.” + +“You had better not talk,” I admonished him. “All that falls from you +now will only tell against you on your trial.” + +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.” + +I attempted to speak, but he would not give me the opportunity. The +passion of weeks had found vent and he rushed on recklessly. + +“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----” + +“Doubtless,” I interjected; but his interruption came quickly and with +vehement passion. + +“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!” + +“Then you do not deny----” I began. + +“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?” + +“Have you anything more to say or do before you leave these rooms?” I +asked. + +He shook his head, and then, bethinking himself, pointed to the roll of +paper which he had flung on the table. + +“Burn that!” he cried. + +I took up the roll and looked at it. It was the manuscript of a poem in +blank verse. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + + + + + +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 22807-0.txt or 22807-0.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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