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diff --git a/2371-h/2371-h.htm b/2371-h/2371-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a6b66b2 --- /dev/null +++ b/2371-h/2371-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13567 @@ +<!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" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Filigree Ball, by Anna Katherine Green</title> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.right {text-align: right; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.footnote {font-size: 90%; + text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +sup { vertical-align: top; font-size: 0.6em; } + +div.fig { display:block; + margin:0 auto; + text-align:center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold;'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Filigree Ball, by Anna Katherine Green</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Filigree Ball</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Anna Katherine Green</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Release Date: October, 2000 [eBook #2371]<br /> +[Most recently updated: January 27, 2021]</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer. HTML version by Al Haines.</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FILIGREE BALL ***</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:70%;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<h1>The Filigree Ball</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">by Anna Katherine Green</h2> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#book01"><b>BOOK I. THE FORBIDDEN ROOM</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">I. “THE MOORE HOUSE?”</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">II. I ENTER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">III. I REMAIN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">IV. SIGNED, VERONICA</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">V. MASTER AND DOG</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">VI. GOSSIP</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">VII. SLY WORK</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">VIII. SLYER WORK</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">IX. JINNY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10">X. FRANCIS JEFFREY</a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#book02"><b>BOOK II. THE LAW AND ITS VICTIM</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap11">XI. DETAILS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap12">XII. THRUST AND PARRY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap13">XIII. CHIEFLY THRUST</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap14">XIV. “LET US HAVE TALLMAN!”</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap15">XV. WHITE BOW AND PINK</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap16">XVI. AN EGOTIST OF THE FIRST WATER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap17">XVII. A FRESH START</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap18">XVIII. IN THE GRASS</a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#book03"><b>BOOK III. THE HOUSE OF DOOM</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap19">XIX. IN TAMPA</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap20">XX. “THE COLONEL’S OWN”</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap21">XXI. THE HEART OF THE PUZZLE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap22">XXII. A THREAD IN HAND</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap23">XXIII. WORDS IN THE NIGHT</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap24">XXIV. TANTALIZING TACTICS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap25">XXV. “WHO WILL TELL THE MAN!”</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap26">XXVI. RUDGE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap27">XXVII. “YOU HAVE COME!”</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>THE FILIGREE BALL</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="book01"></a>BOOK I<br /> +THE FORBIDDEN ROOM</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>I.<br /> +“THE MOORE HOUSE? ARE YOU SPEAKING OF THE MOORE HOUSE?”</h2> + +<p> +For a detective whose talents, had not been recognized at headquarters, I +possessed an ambition which, fortunately for my standing with the lieutenant of +the precinct, had not yet been expressed in words. Though I had small reason +for expecting great things of myself, I had always cherished the hope that if a +big case came my way I should be found able to do something with it something +more, that is, than I had seen accomplished by the police of the District of +Columbia since I had had the honor of being one of their number. Therefore, +when I found myself plunged, almost without my own volition, into the +Jeffrey-Moore affair, I believed that the opportunity had come whereby I might +distinguish myself. +</p> + +<p> +It had complications, this Jeffrey-Moore affair; greater ones than the public +ever knew, keen as the interest in it ran both in and out of Washington. This +is why I propose to tell the story of this great tragedy from my own +standpoint, even if in so doing I risk the charge of attempting to exploit my +own connection with this celebrated case. In its course I encountered as many +disappointments as triumphs, and brought out of the affair a heart as sore as +it was satisfied; for I am a lover of women and— +</p> + +<p> +But I am keeping you from the story itself. +</p> + +<p> +I was at the station-house the night Uncle David came in. He was always called +Uncle David, even by the urchins who followed him in the street; so I am +showing him no disrespect, gentleman though he is, by giving him a title which +as completely characterized him in those days, as did his moody ways, his +quaint attire and the persistence with which he kept at his side his great +mastiff, Rudge. I had long since heard of the old gentleman as one of the most +interesting residents of the precinct. I had even seen him more than once on +the avenue, but I had never before been brought face to face with him, and +consequently had much too superficial a knowledge of his countenance to +determine offhand whether the uneasy light in his small gray eyes was natural +to them, or simply the result of present excitement. But when he began to talk +I detected an unmistakable tremor in his tones, and decided that he was in a +state of suppressed agitation; though he appeared to have nothing more alarming +to impart than the fact that he had seen a light burning in some house +presumably empty. +</p> + +<p> +It was all so trivial that I gave him but scant attention till he let a name +fall which caused me to prick up my ears and even to put in a word. “The +Moore house,” he had said. +</p> + +<p> +“The Moore house?” I repeated in amazement. “Are you speaking +of the Moore house?” +</p> + +<p> +A thousand recollections came with the name. +</p> + +<p> +“What other?” he grumbled, directing toward me a look as keen as it +was impatient. “Do you think that I would bother myself long about a +house I had no interest in, or drag Rudge from his warm rug to save some +ungrateful neighbor from a possible burglary? No, it is <i>my</i> house which +some rogue has chosen to enter. That is,” he suavely corrected, as he saw +surprise in every eye, “the house which the law will give me, if anything +ever happens to that chit of a girl whom my brother left behind him.” +</p> + +<p> +Growling some words at the dog, who showed a decided inclination to lie down +where he was, the old man made for the door and in another moment would have +been in the street, if I had not stepped after him. +</p> + +<p> +“You are a Moore and live in or near that old house?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +The surprise with which he met this question daunted me a little. +</p> + +<p> +“How long have you been in Washington, I should like to ask?” was +his acrid retort. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, some five months.” +</p> + +<p> +His good nature, or what passed for such in this irascible old man, returned in +an instant; and he curtly but not unkindly remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“You haven’t learned much in that time.” Then, with a nod +more ceremonious than many another man’s bow, he added, with sudden +dignity: “I am of the elder branch and live in the cottage fronting the +old place. I am the only resident on the block. When you have lived here longer +you will know why that especial neighborhood is not a favorite one with those +who can not boast of the Moore blood. For the present, let us attribute the bad +name that it holds to—malaria.” And with a significant hitch of his +lean shoulders which set in undulating motion every fold of the old-fashioned +cloak he wore, he started again for the door. +</p> + +<p> +But my curiosity was by this time roused to fever heat. I knew more about this +house than he gave me credit for. No one who had read the papers of late, much +less a man connected with the police, could help being well informed in all the +details of its remarkable history. What I had failed to know was his close +relationship to the family whose name for the last two weeks had been in every +mouth. +</p> + +<p> +“Wait!” I called out. “You say that you live opposite the +Moore house. You can then tell me—” +</p> + +<p> +But he had no mind to stop for any gossip. +</p> + +<p> +“It was all in the papers,” he called back. “Read them. But +first be sure to find out who has struck a light in the house that we all know +has not even a caretaker in it.” +</p> + +<p> +It was good advice. My duty and my curiosity both led me to follow it. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps you have heard of the distinguishing feature of this house; if so, you +do not need my explanations. But if, for any reason, you are ignorant of the +facts which within a very short time have set a final seal of horror upon this +old, historic dwelling, then you will be glad to read what has made and will +continue to make the Moore house in Washington one to be pointed at in daylight +and shunned after dark, not only by superstitious colored folk, but by all who +are susceptible to the most ordinary emotions of fear and dread. +</p> + +<p> +It was standing when Washington was a village. It antedates the Capitol and the +White House. Built by a man of wealth, it bears to this day the impress of the +large ideas and quiet elegance of colonial times; but the shadow which speedily +fell across it made it a marked place even in those early days. While it has +always escaped the hackneyed epithet of “haunted,” families that +have moved in have as quickly moved out, giving as their excuse that no +happiness was to be found there and that sleep was impossible under its roof. +That there was some reason for this lack of rest within walls which were not +without their tragic reminiscences, all must acknowledge. Death had often +occurred there, and while this fact can be stated in regard to most old houses, +it is not often that one can say, as in this case, that it was invariably +sudden and invariably of one character. A lifeless man, lying outstretched on a +certain hearthstone, might be found once in a house and awaken no special +comment; but when this same discovery has been made twice, if not thrice, +during the history of a single dwelling, one might surely be pardoned a +distrust of its seemingly home-like appointments, and discern in its slowly +darkening walls the presence of an evil which if left to itself might perish in +the natural decay of the place, but which, if met and challenged, might strike +again and make another blot on its thrice-crimsoned hearthstone. +</p> + +<p> +But these are old fables which I should hardly presume to mention, had it not +been for the recent occurrence which has recalled them to all men’s minds +and given to this long empty and slowly crumbling building an importance which +has spread its fame from one end of the country to the other. I refer to the +tragedy attending the wedding lately celebrated there. +</p> + +<p> +Veronica Moore, rich, pretty and wilful, had long cherished a strange liking +for this frowning old home of her ancestors, and, at the most critical time of +her life, conceived the idea of proving to herself and to society at large that +no real ban lay upon it save in the imagination of the superstitious. So, being +about to marry the choice of her young heart, she caused this house to be +opened for the wedding ceremony; with what result, you know. Though the +occasion was a joyous one and accompanied by all that could give cheer to such +a function, it had not escaped the old-time shadow. One of the guests straying +into the room of ancient and unhallowed memory, the one room which had not been +thrown open to the crowd, had been found within five minutes of the ceremony +lying on its dolorous hearthstone, dead; and though the bride was spared a +knowledge of the dreadful fact till the holy words were said, a panic had +seized the guests and emptied the house as suddenly and completely as though +the plague had been discovered there. + +</p> + +<p> +This is why I hastened to follow Uncle David when he told me that all was not +right in this house of tragic memories. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap02"></a>II.<br /> +I ENTER</h2> + +<p> +Though past seventy, Uncle David was a brisk walker, and on this night in +particular he sped along so fast that he was half-way down H Street by the time +I had turned the corner at New Hampshire Avenue. +</p> + +<p> +His gaunt but not ungraceful figure, merged in that of the dog trotting closely +at his heels, was the only moving object in the dreary vista of this the most +desolate block in Washington. As I neared the building, I was so impressed by +the surrounding stillness that I was ready to vow that the shadows were denser +here than elsewhere and that the few gas lamps, which flickered at intervals +down the street, shone with a more feeble ray than in any other equal length of +street in Washington. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, the shadow of Uncle David had vanished from the pavement. He had +paused beside a fence which, hung with vines, surrounded and nearly hid from +sight the little cottage he had mentioned as the only house on the block with +the exception of the great Moore place; in other words, his own home. +</p> + +<p> +As I came abreast of him I heard him muttering, not to his dog as was his +custom, but to himself. In fact, the dog was not to be seen, and this desertion +on the part of his constant companion seemed to add to his disturbance and +affect him beyond all reason. I could distinguish these words amongst the many +he directed toward the unseen animal: +</p> + +<p> +“You’re a knowing one, too knowing! You see that loosened shutter +over the way as plainly as I do; but you’re a coward to slink away from +it. I don’t. I face the thing, and what’s more, I’ll show you +yet what I think of a dog that can’t stand his ground and help his old +master out with some show of courage. Creaks, does it? Well, let it creak! I +don’t mind its creaking, glad as I should be to know whose +hand—Halloo! You’ve come, have you?” This to me. I had just +stepped up to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I’ve come. Now what is the matter with the Moore +house?” +</p> + +<p> +He must have expected the question, yet his answer was a long time coming. His +voice, too, sounded strained, and was pitched quite too high to be natural. But +he evidently did not expect me to show surprise at his manner. +</p> + +<p> +“Look at that window over there!” he cried at last. “That one +with the slightly open shutter! Watch and you will see that shutter move. +There! it creaked; didn’t you hear it?” +</p> + +<p> +A growl—it was more like a moan—came from the porch behind us. +Instantly the old gentleman turned and with a gesture as fierce as it was +instinctive, shouted out: +</p> + +<p> +“Be still there! If you haven’t the courage to face a blowing +shutter, keep your jaws shut and don’t let every fellow who happens along +know what a fool you are. I declare,” he maundered on, half to himself +and half to me, “that dog is getting old. He can’t be trusted any +more. He forsakes his master just when—” The rest was lost in his +throat which rattled with something more than impatient anger. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile I had been attentively scrutinizing the house thus pointedly brought +to my notice. +</p> + +<p> +I had seen it many times before, but, as it happened, had never stopped to look +at it when the huge trees surrounding it were shrouded in darkness. The black +hollow of its disused portal looked out from shadows which acquired some of +their somberness from the tragic memories connected with its empty void. +</p> + +<p> +Its aspect was scarcely reassuring. Not that superstition lent its terrors to +the lonely scene, but that through the blank panes of the window, alternately +appearing and disappearing from view as the shutter pointed out by Uncle David +blew to and fro in the wind, I saw, or was persuaded that I saw, a beam of +light which argued an unknown presence within walls which had so lately been +declared unfit for any man’s habitation. +</p> + +<p> +“You are right,” I now remarked to the uneasy figure at my side. +“Some one is prowling through the house yonder. Can it possibly be Mrs. +Jeffrey or her husband?” +</p> + +<p> +“At night and with no gas in the house? Hardly.” +</p> + +<p> +The words were natural, but the voice was not. Neither was his manner quite +suited to the occasion. Giving him another sly glance, and marking how uneasily +he edged away from me in the darkness, I cried out more cheerily than he +possibly expected: +</p> + +<p> +“I will summon another officer and we three will just slip across and +investigate.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not I!” was his violent rejoinder, as he swung open a gate +concealed in the vines behind him. “The Jeffreys would resent my +intrusion if they ever happened to hear of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed!” I laughed, sounding my whistle; then, soberly enough, for +I was more than a little struck by the oddity of his behavior and thought him +as well worth investigation as the house in which he showed such an interest: +“You shouldn’t let that count. Come and see what’s up in the +house you are so ready to call yours.” +</p> + +<p> +But he only drew farther into the shade. +</p> + +<p> +“I have no business over there,” he objected. “Veronica and I +have never been on good terms. I was not even invited to her wedding though I +live within a stone’s throw of the door. No; I have done my duty in +calling attention to that light, and whether it’s the bull’s-eye of +a burglar—perhaps you don’t know that there are rare treasures on +the book shelves of the great library—or whether it is the fantastic +illumination which frightens fool-folks and some fool-dogs, I’m done with +it and done with you, too, for tonight.” +</p> + +<p> +As he said this, he mounted to his door and disappeared under the vines, +hanging like a shroud over the front of the house. In another moment the rich +peal of an organ sounded from within, followed by the prolonged howling of +Rudge, who, either from a too keen appreciation of his master’s music or +in utter disapproval of it,—no one, I believe, has ever been able to make +out which,—was accustomed to add this undesirable accompaniment to every +strain from the old man’s hand. The playing did not cease because of +these outrageous discords. On the contrary, it increased in force and volume, +causing Rudge’s expression of pain or pleasure to increase also. The +result can be imagined. As I listened to the intolerable howls of the dog +cutting clean through the exquisite harmonies of his master, I wondered if the +shadows cast by the frowning structure of the great Moore house were alone to +blame for Uncle David’s lack of neighbors. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime, Hibbard, who was the first to hear my signal, came running down the +block. As he joined me, the light, or what we chose to call a light, appeared +again in the window toward which my attention had been directed. +</p> + +<p> +“Some one’s in the Moore house!” I declared, in as matter +of-fact tones as I could command. +</p> + +<p> +Hibbard is a big fellow, the biggest fellow on the force, and so far as my own +experience with him had gone, as stolid and imperturbable as the best of us. +But after a quick glance at the towering walls of the lonely building, he +showed decided embarrassment and seemed in no haste to cross the street. +</p> + +<p> +With difficulty I concealed my disgust. +</p> + +<p> +“Come,” I cried, stepping down from the curb, “let’s go +over and investigate. The property is valuable, the furnishings handsome, and +there is no end of costly books on the library shelves. You have matches and a +revolver?” +</p> + +<p> +He nodded, quietly showing me first the one, then the other; then with a +sheepish air which he endeavored to carry of with a laugh, he cried: +</p> + +<p> +“Have you use for ’em? If so, I’m quite willing to part with +’em for a half-hour.” +</p> + +<p> +I was more than amazed at this evidence of weakness in one I had always +considered as tough and impenetrable as flint rock. Thrusting back the hand +with which he had half drawn into view the weapon I had mentioned, I put on my +sternest sir and led the way across the street. As I did so, tossed back the +words: +</p> + +<p> +“We may come upon a gang. You do not wish me to face some half-dozen men +alone?” +</p> + +<p> +“You won’t find any half-dozen men there,” was his muttered +reply. Nevertheless he followed me, though with less spirit than I liked, +considering that my own manner was in a measure assumed and that I was not +without sympathy—well, let me, say, for a dog who preferred howling a +dismal accompaniment to his master’s music, to keeping open watch over a +neighborhood dominated by the unhallowed structure I now propose to enter. +</p> + +<p> +The house is too well known for me to attempt a minute description of it. The +illustrations which have appeared in all the papers have already acquainted the +general public with its simple facade and rows upon rows of shuttered windows. +Even the great square porch with its bench for negro attendants has been +photographed for the million. Those who have seen the picture in which the +wedding-guests are shown flying from its yawning doorway, will not be +especially interested in the quiet, almost solemn aspect it presented as I +passed up the low steps and laid my hand upon the knob of the old-fashioned +front door. +</p> + +<p> +Not that I expected to win an entrance thereby, but because it is my nature to +approach everything in a common-sense way. Conceive then my astonishment when +at the first touch the door yielded. It was not even latched. +</p> + +<p> +“So! so!” thought I. “This is no fool’s job; some one +<i>is</i> in the house.” +</p> + +<p> +I had provided myself with an ordinary pocket-lantern, and, when I had +convinced Hibbard that I fully meant to enter the house and discover for myself +who had taken advantage of the popular prejudice against it to make a secret +refuge or rendezvous of its decayed old rooms, I took out this lantern and held +it in readiness. +</p> + +<p> +“We may strike a hornets’ nest,” I explained to Hibbard, +whose feet seemed very heavy even for a man of his size. “But I’m +going in and so are you. Only, let me suggest that we first take off our shoes. +We can hide them in these bushes.” +</p> + +<p> +“I always catch cold when I walk barefooted,” mumbled my brave +companion; but receiving no reply he drew off his shoes and dropped them beside +mine in the cluster of stark bushes which figure so prominently in the +illustrations that I have just mentioned. Then he took out his revolver, and +cocking it, stood waiting, while I gave a cautious push to the door. +</p> + +<p> +Darkness! silence! +</p> + +<p> +Rather had I confronted a light and heard some noise, even if it had been the +ominous click to which eve are so well accustomed. Hibbard seemed to share my +feelings, though from an entirely different cause. +</p> + +<p> +“Pistols and lanterns are no good here,” he grumbled. “What +we want at this blessed minute is a priest with a sprinkling of holy water; and +I for one—” +</p> + +<p> +He was actually sliding off. +</p> + +<p> +With a smothered oath I drew him back. +</p> + +<p> +“See here!” I cried, “you’re not a babe in arms. Come +on or— Well, what now?” +</p> + +<p> +He had clenched my arm and was pointing to the door which was slowly swaying to +behind us. +</p> + +<p> +“Notice that,” he whispered. “No key in the lock! Men use +keys but—” +</p> + +<p> +My patience could stand no more. With a shake I rid myself of his clutch, +muttering: +</p> + +<p> +“There, go! You’re too much of a fool for me. I’m in for it +alone.” And in proof of my determination, I turned the slide of the +lantern and flashed the light through the house. +</p> + +<p> +The effect was ghostly; but while the fellow at my side breathed hard he did +not take advantage of my words to make his escape, as I half expected him to. +Perhaps, like myself, he was fascinated by the dreary spectacle of long shadowy +walls and an equally shadowy staircase emerging from a darkness which a minute +before had seemed impenetrable. Perhaps he was simply ashamed. At all events he +stood his ground, scrutinizing with rolling eyes that portion of the hall where +two columns, with gilded Corinthian capitals, marked the door of the room which +no man entered without purpose or passed without dread. Doubtless he was +thinking of that which had so frequently been carried out between those +columns. I know that I was; and when, in the sudden draft made by the open +door, some open draperies hanging near those columns blew out with a sudden +swoop and shiver, I was not at all astonished to see him lose what little +courage had remained in him. The truth is, I was startled myself, but I was +able to hide the fact and to whisper back to him, fiercely: +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be an idiot. That curtain hides nothing worse than some +sneaking political refugee or a gang of counterfeiters.” +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe. I’d just like to put my hand on Upson and—” +</p> + +<p> +“Hush!” +</p> + +<p> +I had just heard something. +</p> + +<p> +For a moment we stood breathless, but as the sound was not repeated I concluded +that it was the creaking of that far-away shutter. Certainly there was nothing +moving near us. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall we go upstairs?” whispered Hibbard. +</p> + +<p> +“Not till we have made sure that all is right down here” +</p> + +<p> +A door stood slightly ajar on our left. +</p> + +<p> +Pushing it open, we looked in. A well furnished parlor was before us. +</p> + +<p> +“Here’s where the wedding took place,” remarked Hibbard, +straining his head over my shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +There were signs of this wedding on every side. Walls and ceilings had been +hung with garlands, and these still clung to the mantelpiece and over and +around the various doorways. Torn-off branches and the remnants of old +bouquets, dropped from the hands of flying guests, littered the carpet, adding +to the general confusion of overturned chairs and tables. Everywhere were +evidences of the haste with which the place had been vacated as well as the +superstitious dread which had prevented it being re-entered for the commonplace +purpose of cleaning. Even the piano had not been shut, and under it lay some +scattered sheets of music which had been left where they fell, to the probable +loss of some poor musician. The clock occupying the center of the mantelpiece +alone gave evidence of life. It had been wound for the wedding and had not yet +run down. Its tick-tick came faint enough, however, through the darkness, as if +it too had lost heart and would soon lapse into the deadly quiet of its ghostly +surroundings. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s—it’s funeral-like,” chattered Hibbard. +</p> + +<p> +He was right; I felt as if I were shutting the lid of a coffin when I finally +closed the door. +</p> + +<p> +Our next steps took us into the rear where we found little to detain us, and +then, with a certain dread fully justified by the event, we made for the door +defined by the two Corinthian columns. +</p> + +<p> +It was ajar like the rest, and, call me coward or call me fool—I have +called Hibbard both, you will remember—I found that it cost me an effort +to lay my hand on its mahogany panels. Danger, if danger there was, lurked +here; and while I had never known myself to quail before any ordinary +antagonist, I, like others of my kind, have no especial fondness for unseen and +mysterious perils. +</p> + +<p> +Hibbard, who up to this point had followed me almost too closely, now accorded +me all the room that was necessary. It was with a sense of entering alone upon +the scene that I finally thrust wide the door and crossed the threshold of this +redoubtable room where, but two short weeks before, a fresh victim had been +added to the list of those who had by some unheard-of, unimaginable means found +their death within its recesses. +</p> + +<p> +My first glance showed me little save the ponderous outlines of an old settle, +which jutted from the corner of the fireplace half way out into the room. As it +was seemingly from this seat that the men, who at various times had been found +lying here, had fallen to their doom, a thrill passed over me as I noted its +unwieldy bulk and the deep shadow it threw on the ancient and dishonored +hearthstone. To escape the ghastly memories it evoked and also to satisfy +myself that the room was really as empty as it seemed, I took another step +forward. This caused the light from the lantern I carried to spread beyond the +point on which it had hitherto been so effectively concentrated; but the result +was to emphasize rather than detract from the extreme desolation of the great +room. The settle was a fixture, as I afterwards found, and was almost the only +article of furniture to be seen on the wide expanse of uncarpeted floor. There +was a table or two in hiding somewhere amid the shadows at the other end from +where I stood, and possibly some kind of stool or settee; but the general +impression made upon me was that of a completely dismantled place given over to +moth and rust. +</p> + +<p> +I do not include the walls. They were not bare like the floor, but covered with +books from floor to ceiling. These books were not the books of today; they had +stood so long in their places unnoted and untouched, that they had acquired the +color of fungus, and smelt— Well, there is no use adding to the picture. +Every one knows the spirit of sickening desolation pervading rooms which have +been shut up for an indefinite length of time from air and sunshine. +</p> + +<p> +The elegance of the heavily stuccoed ceiling, admitted to be one of the finest +specimens of its kind in Washington, as well as the richness of the carvings +ornamenting the mantel of Italian marble rising above the accursed hearthstone, +only served to make more evident the extreme neglect into which the rest of the +room had sunk. Being anything but anxious to subject myself further to its +unhappy influence and quite convinced that the place was indeed as empty as it +looked, I turned to leave, when my eyes fell upon something so unexpected and +so extraordinary, seen as it was under the influence of the old tragedies with +which my mind was necessarily full, that I paused, balked in my advance, and +well-nigh uncertain whether I looked upon a real thing or on some strange and +terrible fantasy of my aroused imagination. +</p> + +<p> +A form lay before me, outstretched on that portion of the floor which had +hitherto been hidden from me by the half-open door—a woman’s form, +which even in that first casual look impressed itself upon me as one of aerial +delicacy and extreme refinement; and this form lay as only the dead lie; <i>the +dead!</i> And I had been looking at the hearthstone for just such a picture! +No, not just such a picture, for this woman lay face uppermost, and, on the +floor beside her was blood. +</p> + +<p> +A hand had plucked my sleeve. It was Hibbard’s. Startled by my immobility +and silence, he had stepped in with quaking members, expecting he hardly knew +what. But no sooner did his eyes fall on the prostrate form which held me +spellbound, than an unforeseen change took place in him. What had unnerved me, +restored him to full self-possession. Death in this shape was familiar to him. +He had no fear of blood. He did not show surprise at encountering it, but only +at the effect it appeared to produce on me. +</p> + +<p> +“Shot!” was his laconic comment as he bent over the prostrate body. +“Shot through the heart! She must have died before she fell.” +</p> + +<p> +Shot! +</p> + +<p> +That was a new experience for this room. No wound had ever before disfigured +those who had fallen here, nor had any of the previous victims been found lying +on any other spot than the one over which that huge settle kept guard. As these +thoughts crossed my mind, I instinctively glanced again toward the fireplace +for what I almost refused to believe lay outstretched at my feet. When nothing +more appeared there than that old seat of sinister memory, I experienced a +thrill which poorly prepared me for the cry which I now heard raised by +Hibbard. +</p> + +<p> +“Look here! What do you make of this?” +</p> + +<p> +He was pointing to what, upon closer inspection, proved to be a strip of white +satin ribbon running from one of the delicate wrists of the girl before us to +the handle of a pistol which had fallen not far away from her side. “It +looks as if the pistol was attached to her. That is something new in my +experience. What do you think it means?” +</p> + +<p> +Alas! there was but one thing it could mean. The shot to which she had +succumbed had been delivered by herself. This fair and delicate creature was a +suicide. +</p> + +<p> +But suicide in this place! How could we account for that? Had the story of this +room’s ill-acquired fame acted hypnotically on her, or had she stumbled +upon the open door in front and been glad of any refuge where her misery might +find a solitary termination? Closely scanning her upturned face, I sought an +answer to this question, and while thus seeking received a fresh shock which I +did not hesitate to communicate to my now none-too-sensitive companion. +</p> + +<p> +“Look at these features,” I cried. “I seem to know them, do +you?” +</p> + +<p> +He growled out a dissent, but stooped at my bidding and gave the pitiful young +face a pro longed stare. When he looked up again it was with a puzzled +contraction of his eyebrows. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve certainly seen it somewhere,” he hesitatingly admitted, +edging slowly away toward the door. “Perhaps in the papers. Isn’t +she like—?” +</p> + +<p> +“Like!” I interrupted, “it is Veronica Moore <i>herself;</i> +the owner of this house and she who was married here two weeks since to Mr. +Jeffrey. Evidently her reason was unseated by the tragedy which threw so deep a +gloom over her wedding.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap03"></a>III.<br /> +I REMAIN</h2> + +<p> +Not for an instant did I doubt the correctness of this identification. All the +pictures I had seen of this well-known society belle had been marked by an +individuality of expression which fixed her face in the memory and which I now +saw repeated in the lifeless features before me. +</p> + +<p> +Greatly startled by the discovery, but quite convinced that this was but the +dreadful sequel of an already sufficiently dark tragedy, I proceeded to take +such steps as are common in these cases. Having sent the too-willing Hibbard to +notify headquarters, I was on the point of making a memorandum of such details +as seemed important, when my lantern suddenly went out, leaving me in total +darkness. +</p> + +<p> +This was far from pleasant, but the effect it produced upon my mind was not +without its result. For no sooner did I find myself alone and in the unrelieved +darkness of this grave-like room, than I became convinced that no woman, +however frenzied, would make her plunge into an unknown existence from the +midst of a darkness only too suggestive of the tomb to which she was hastening. +It was not in nature, not in woman’s nature, at all events. Either she +had committed the final act before such daylight as could filter through the +shutters of this closed-up room had quite disappeared,—an hypothesis +instantly destroyed by the warmth which still lingered in certain portions of +her body,—or else the light which had been burning when she pulled the +fatal trigger had since been carried elsewhere or extinguished. +</p> + +<p> +Recalling the uncertain gleams which we had seen flashing from one of the upper +windows, I was inclined to give some credence to the former theory, but was +disposed to be fair to both. So after relighting my lamp, I turned on one of +the gas cocks of the massive chandelier over my head and applied a match. The +result was just what I anticipated; no gas in the pipes. A meter had not been +put in for the wedding. This the papers had repeatedly stated in dwelling upon +the garish effect of the daylight on the elaborate costumes worn by the ladies. +Candles had not even been provided—ah, candles! What, then, was it that I +saw glittering on a small table at the other end of the room? Surely a +candlestick, or rather an old-fashioned candelabrum with a half-burned candle +in one of its sockets. Hastily crossing to it, I felt of the candlewick. It was +quite stiff and hard. But not considering this a satisfactory proof that it had +not been lately burning—the tip of a wick soon dries after the flame is +blown out—I took out my penknife and attacked the wick at what might be +called its root; whereupon I found that where the threads had been protected by +the wax they were comparatively soft and penetrable. The conclusion was +obvious. True to my instinct in this matter the woman had not lifted her weapon +in darkness; this candle had been burning. But here my thoughts received a +fresh shock. If burning, then by whom had it since been blown out? Not by her; +her wound was too fatally sure for that. The steps taken between the table +where the candelabrum stood and the place where she lay, were taken, if taken +at all by her, before that shot was fired. Some one else—some one whose +breath still lingered in the air about me—had extinguished this +candle-flame after she fell, and the death I looked down upon was not a +suicide, <i>but a murder!</i> +</p> + +<p> +The excitement which this discovery caused to tingle through my every nerve had +its birth in the ambitious feeling referred to in the opening paragraph of this +narrative. I believed that my long-sought-for opportunity had come; that with +the start given me by the conviction just stated, I should be enabled to +collect such clues and establish such facts as would lead to the acceptance of +this new theory instead of the apparent one of suicide embraced by Hibbard and +about to be promulgated at police headquarters. If so, what a triumph would be +mine; and what a debt I should owe to the crabbed old gentleman whose seemingly +fantastic fears had first drawn me to this place! +</p> + +<p> +Realizing the value of the opportunity afforded me by the few minutes I was +likely to spend alone on this scene of crime, I proceeded to my task with that +directness and method which I had always promised myself should characterize my +first success in detective work. +</p> + +<p> +First, then, for another look at the fair young victim herself! What a line of +misery on the brow! What dark hollows disfiguring cheeks otherwise as delicate +as the petals of a rose! An interesting, if not absolutely beautiful face, it +told me something I could hardly put into words; so that it was like leaving a +fascinating but unsolved mystery when I finally turned from it to study the +hands, each of which presented a separate problem. That offered by the right +wrist you already know—the long white ribbon connecting it with the +discharged pistol. But the secret concealed by the left, while less startling, +was perhaps fully as significant. All the rings were gone, even the wedding +ring which had been placed there such a short time before. Had she been robbed? +There were no signs of violence visible nor even such disturbances as usually +follow despoliation by a criminal’s hand. The boa of delicate black net +which encircled her neck rose fresh and intact to her chin; nor did the heavy +folds of her rich broadcloth gown betray that any disturbance had taken place +in her figure after its fall. If a jewel had flashed at her throat, or earrings +adorned her ears, they had been removed by a careful, if not a loving, hand. +But I was rather inclined to think that she had entered upon the scene of her +death without ornaments,—such severe simplicity marked her whole attire. +Her hat, which was as plain and also as elegant as the rest of her clothing, +lay near her on the floor. It had been taken off and thrown down, manifestly by +an impatient hand. That this hand was her own was evident from a small but very +significant fact. The pin which had held it to her hair had been thrust again +into the hat. No hand but hers would have taken this precaution. A man would +have flung it aside just as he would have flung the hat. +</p> + +<p> +Question: +</p> + +<p> +Did this argue a natural expectation on her part of resuming her hat? Or was +the action the result of an unconscious habit? +</p> + +<p> +Having thus noted all that was possible concerning her without infringing on +the rights of the coroner, I next proceeded to cast about for clues to the +identity of the person whom I considered responsible for the extinguished +candle. But here a great disappointment awaited me. I could find nothing +expressive of a second person’s presence save a pile of cigar ashes +scattered near the legs of a common kitchen chair which stood face to face with +the book shelves in that part of the room where the candelabrum rested on a +small table. But these ashes looked old, nor could I detect any evidence of +tobacco smoke in the general mustiness pervading the place. Was the man who +died here a fortnight since accountable for these ashes? If so, his unfinished +cigar must be within sight. Should I search for it? No, for this would take me +to the hearth and that was quite too deadly a place to be heedlessly +approached. +</p> + +<p> +Besides, I was not yet finished with the spot where I then stood. If I could +gather nothing satisfactory from the ashes, perhaps I could from the chair or +the shelves before which it had been placed. Some one with an interest in books +had sat there; some one who expected to spend sufficient time over these old +tomes to feel the need of a chair. Had this interest been a general one or had +it centered in a particular volume? I ran my eye over the shelves within reach, +possibly with an idea of settling this question, and though my knowledge of +books is limited I could see that these were what one might call rarities. Some +of them contained specimens of black letter, all moldy and smothered in dust; +in others I saw dates of publication which placed them among volumes dear to a +collector’s heart. But none of them, so far as I could see, gave any +evidence of having been lately handled; and anxious to waste no time on puerile +details, I hastily quitted my chair, and was proceeding to turn my attention +elsewhere, when I noticed on an upper shelf, a book projecting slightly beyond +the others. Instantly my foot was on the chair and the book in my hand. Did I +find it of interest? Yes, but not on account of its contents, for they were +pure Greek to me; but because it lacked the dust on its upper edge which had +marked every other volume I had handled. This, then, was what had attracted the +unknown to these shelves, this—let me see if I can remember its +title—Disquisition upon Old Coastlines. Pshaw! I was wasting my time. +What had such a dry compendium as this to do with the body lying in its blood a +few steps behind me, or with the hand which had put out the candle upon this +dreadful deed? Nothing. I replaced the book, but not so hastily as to push it +one inch beyond the position in which I found it. For, if it had a tale to +tell, then was it my business to leave that tale to be read by those who +understood books better than I did. +</p> + +<p> +My next move was toward the little table holding the candelabrum with the +glittering pendants. This table was one of a nest standing against a near-by +wall. Investigation proved that it had been lifted from the others and brought +to its present position within a very short space of time. For the dust lying +thick on its top was almost entirely lacking from the one which had been nested +under it. Neither had the candelabrum been standing there long, dust being +found under as well as around it. Had her hand brought it there? Hardly, if it +came from the top of the mantel toward which I now turned in my course of +investigation. +</p> + +<p> +I have already mentioned this mantel more than once. This I could hardly avoid, +since in and about it lay the heart of the mystery for which the room was +remarkable. But though I have thus freely spoken of it, and though it was not +absent from my thoughts for a moment, I had not ventured to approach it beyond +a certain safe radius. Now, in looking to see if I might not lessen this +radius, I experienced that sudden and overwhelming interest in its every +feature which attaches to all objects peculiarly associated with danger. +</p> + +<p> +I even took a step toward it, holding up my lamp so that a stray ray struck the +faded surface of an old engraving hanging over the fireplace. +</p> + +<p> +It was the well-known one—in Washington at least—of Benjamin +Franklin at the Court of France; interesting no doubt in a general way, but +scarcely calculated to hold the eye at so critical an instant. Neither did the +shelf below call for more than momentary attention, for it was absolutely bare. +So was the time-worn, if not blood-stained hearth, save for the impenetrable +shadow cast over it by the huge bulk of the great settle standing at its edge. +</p> + +<p> +I have already described the impression made on me at my first entrance by this +ancient and characteristic article of furniture. +</p> + +<p> +It was intensified now as my eye ran over the clumsy carving which added to the +discomfort of its high straight back and as I smelt the smell of its moldy and +possibly mouse-haunted cushions. A crawling sense of dread took the place of my +first instinctive repugnance; not because superstition had as yet laid its grip +upon me, although the place, the hour and the near and veritable presence of +death were enough to rouse the imagination past the bounds of the actual, but +because of a discovery I had made—a discovery which emphasized the +tradition that all who had been found dead under the mantel had fallen as if +from the end of this monstrous and patriarchal bench. Do you ask what this +discovery was? It can be told in a word. This one end and only this end had +been made comfortable for the sitter. For a space scarcely wide enough for one, +the seat and back at this special point had been upholstered with leather, +fastened to the wood with heavy wrought nails. The remaining portion stretched +out bare, hard and inexpressibly forbidding to one who sought ease there, or +even a moment of casual rest. The natural inference was that the owner of this +quaint piece of furniture had been a very selfish man who thought only of his +own comfort. But might he not have had some other reason for his apparent +niggardliness? As I asked myself this question and noted how the long and +embracing arm which guarded this cushioned retreat was flattened on top for the +convenient holding of decanter and glass, feelings to which I can give no name +and which I had fondly believed myself proof against, began to take the place +of judgment and reason. Before I realized the nature of my own impulse or to +what it was driving me, I found myself moving slowly and steadily toward this +formidable seat, under an irresistible desire to fling myself down upon these +old cushions and— +</p> + +<p> +But here the creaking of some far-off shutter—possibly the one I had seen +swaying from the opposite side of the street—recalled me to the duties of +the hour, and, remembering that my investigations were but half completed and +that I might be interrupted any moment by detectives from headquarters, I broke +from the accursed charm, which horrified me the moment I escaped it, and +quitting the room by a door at the farther end, sought to find in some of the +adjacent rooms the definite traces I had failed to discover on this, the actual +scene of the crime. +</p> + +<p> +It was a dismal search, revealing at every turn the almost maddened haste with +which the house had been abandoned. The dining-room especially roused feelings +which were far from pleasant. The table, evidently set for the wedding +breakfast, had been denuded in such breathless hurry that the food had been +tossed from the dishes and now lay in moldering heaps on the floor. The wedding +cake, which some one had dropped, possibly in the effort to save it, had been +stepped on; and broken glass, crumpled napery and withered flowers made all the +corners unsightly and rendered stepping over the unwholesome floors at once +disgusting and dangerous. The pantries opening out of this room were in no +better case. Shrinking from the sights and smells I found there, I passed out +into the kitchen and so on by a close and narrow passage to the negro quarters +clustered in the rear. +</p> + +<p> +Here I made a discovery. One of the windows in this long disused portion of the +house was not only unlocked but partly open. But as I came upon no marks +showing that this outlet had been used by the escaping murderer, I made my way +back to the front of the house and thus to the stairs communicating with the +upper floor. +</p> + +<p> +It was on the rug lying at the foot of these stairs that I came upon the first +of a dozen or more burned matches which lay in a distinct trail up the +staircase and along the floors of the upper halls. As these matches were all +burned as short as fingers could hold them, it was evident that they had been +used to light the steps of some one seeking refuge above, possibly in the very +room where we had seen the light which had first drawn us to this house. How +then? Should I proceed or await the coming of the “boys” before +pushing in upon a possible murderer? I decided to proceed, fascinated, I think, +by the nicety of the trail which lay before me. +</p> + +<p> +But when, after a careful following in the steps of him who had so lately +preceded me, I came upon a tightly closed door at the end of aside passage, I +own that I stopped a moment before lifting hand to it. So much may lie behind a +tightly closed door! But my hesitation, if hesitation it was, lasted but a +moment. My natural impatience and the promptings of my vanity overcame the +dictates of my judgment, and, reckless of consequences, perhaps disdainful of +them, I soon had the knob in my grasp. I gave a slight push to the door and, on +seeing a crack of light leap into life along the jamb, pushed the door wider +and wider till the whole room stood revealed. +</p> + +<p> +The instantaneous banging of a shutter in one of its windows proved the room to +be the very one which we had seen lighted from below. Otherwise all was still; +nor was I able to detect, in my first hurried glance, any other token of human +presence than a candle sputtering in its own grease at the bottom of a tumbler +placed on one corner of an old-fashioned dressing table. This, the one touch +of incongruity in a room otherwise rich if not stately in its appointments, was +loud in its suggestion of some hidden presence given to expedients and reckless +of consequences; but of this presence nothing was to be seen. +</p> + +<p> +Not satisfied with this short survey,—a survey which had given me the +impression of a spacious old-fashioned chamber, fully furnished but breathing +of the by-gone rather than of the present—and resolved to know the worst, +or, rather, to dare the worst and be done with it, I strode straight into the +center of the room and cast about me quickly a comprehensive glance which +spared nothing, not even the shadows lurking in the corners. But no low-lying +figure started up from those corners, nor did any crouching head rise into +sight from beyond the leaves of the big screen behind which I was careful to +look. +</p> + +<p> +Greatly reassured, and indeed quite convinced that wherever the criminal lurked +at that moment he was not in the same room with me, I turned my attention to my +surroundings, which had many points of interest. Foremost among these was the +big four-poster which occupied a large space at my right. I had never seen its +like in use before, and I was greatly attracted by its size and the air of +mystery imparted to it by its closely drawn curtains of faded brocade. In fact, +this bed, whether from its appearance or some occult influence inherent in it, +had a fascination for me. I hesitated to approach it, yet could not forbear +surveying it long and earnestly. Could it be possible that those curtains +concealed some one in hiding behind them? Strange to say I did not feel quite +ready to lay hand on them and see. +</p> + +<p> +A dressing table laden with woman’s fixings and various articles of the +toilet, all of an unexpected value and richness, occupied the space between the +two windows; and on the floor, immediately in front of a high mahogany mantel, +there lay, amid a number of empty boxes, an overturned chair. This chair and +the conjectures its position awakened led me to look up at the mantel with +which it seemed to be in some way connected, and thus I became aware of a wan +old drawing hanging on the wall above it. Why this picture, which was a totally +uninteresting sketch of a simpering girl face, should have held my eye after +the first glance, I can not say even now. It had no beauty even of the +sentimental kind and very little, if any, meaning. Its lines, weak at the best, +were nearly obliterated and in some places quite faded out. Yet I not only +paused to look at it, but in looking at it forgot myself and well-nigh my +errand. Yet there was no apparent reason for the spell it exerted over me, nor +could I account in any way for the really superstitious dread which from this +moment seized me, making my head move slowly round with shrinking backward +looks as that swaying shutter creaked or some of the fitful noises, which grow +out of silence in answer to our inner expectancy, drew my attention or appalled +my sense. +</p> + +<p> +To all appearance there was less here than below to affect a man’s +courage. No inanimate body with the mark of the slayer upon it lent horror to +these walls; yet sensations which I had easily overcome in the library below +clung with strange insistence to me here, making it an effort for me to move, +and giving to the unexpected reflection of my own image in the mirror I chanced +to pass, a power to shock my nerves which has never been repeated in my +experience. +</p> + +<p> +It may seem both unnecessary and out of character for a man of my calling to +acknowledge these chance sensations, but only by doing so can I account for the +minutes which elapsed before I summoned sufficient self-possession to draw +aside the closed curtains of the bed and take the quick look inside which my +present doubtful position demanded. But once I had broken the spell and taken +the look just mentioned, I found my manhood return and with it my old ardor for +clues. The bed held no gaping, chattering criminal; yet was it not quite empty. +Something lay there, and this something, while commonplace in itself, was +enough out of keeping with the place and hour to rouse my interest and awaken +my conjectures. It was a lady’s wrap so rich in quality and of such a +festive appearance that it was astonishing to find it lying in a neglected +state in this crumbling old house. Though I know little of the cost of +women’s garments, I do know the value of lace, and this garment was +covered with it. +</p> + +<p> +Interesting as was this find, it was followed by one still more so. Nestled in +the folds of the cloak, lay the withered remains of what could only have been +the bridal bouquet. Unsightly now and scentless, it was once a beautiful +specimen of the florist’s art. As I noted how the main bunch of roses and +lilies was connected by long satin ribbons to the lesser clusters which hung +from it, I recalled with conceivable horror the use to which a similar ribbon +had been put in the room below. In the shudder called up by this coincidence I +forgot to speculate how a bouquet carried by the bride could have found its way +back to this upstairs room when, as all accounts agree, she had fled from the +parlor below without speaking or staying foot the moment she was told of the +catastrophe which had taken place in the library. That her wrap should be lying +here was not strange, but that the wedding bouquet— +</p> + +<p> +That it really was the wedding bouquet and that this was the room in which the +bride had dressed for the ceremony was apparent to the most casual observer. +But it became an established fact when in my further course about the room I +chanced on a handkerchief with the name Veronica embroidered in one corner. +</p> + +<p> +This handkerchief had an interest apart from the name on it. It was of dainty +texture and quite in keeping, so far as value went, with the other belongings +of its fastidious owner. But it was not clean. Indeed it was strangely soiled, +and this soil was of a nature I did not readily understand. A woman would +doubtless have comprehended immediately the cause of the brown streaks I found +on it, but it took me several minutes to realize that this bit of cambric, +delicate as a cobweb, had been used to remove dust. To remove dust! Dust from +what? From the mantel-shelf probably, upon one end of which I found it. But no! +one look along the polished boards convinced me that whatever else had been +dusted in this room this shelf had not. The accumulation of days, if not of +months, was visible from one end to the other of its unrelieved surface save +where the handkerchief had lain, and—the greatest discovery +yet—where five clear spots just to the left of the center showed where +some man’s finger-tips had rested. Nothing but the pressure of fingertips +could have caused just the appearance presented by these spots. By scrutinizing +them closely I could even tell where the thumb had rested, and at once foresaw +the possibility of determining by means of these marks both the size and shape +of the hand which had left behind it so neat and unmistakable a clue. +</p> + +<p> +Wonderful! but what did it all mean? Why should a man rest his finger-tips on +this out-of-the-way shelf? Had he done so in an effort to balance himself for a +look up the chimney? No; for then the marks made by his fingers would have +extended to the edge of the shelf, whereas these were in the middle of it. +Their shape, too, was round, not oblong; hence, the pressure had come from +above and—ah! I had it, these impressions in the dust of the shelf were +just such as would be made by a person steadying himself for a close look at +the old picture. And this accounted also for the overturned chair, and for the +handkerchief used as a duster. Some one’s interest in this picture had +been greater than mine; some one who was either very near-sighted or whose +temperament was such that only the closest inspection would satisfy an aroused +curiosity. +</p> + +<p> +This gave me an idea, or rather impressed upon me the necessity of preserving +the outline of these tell-tale marks while they were still plain to the eye. +Taking out my penknife, I lightly ran the point of my sharpest blade around +each separate impression till I had fixed them for all time in the well worn +varnish of the mahogany. +</p> + +<p> +This done, my thoughts recurred to the question already raised. What was there +in this old picture to arouse such curiosity in one bent on evil if not fresh +from a hideous crime? I have said before that the picture as a picture was +worthless, a mere faded sketch fit only for lumbering up some old garret. Then +wherein lay its charm,—a charm which I myself had felt, though not to +this extent? It was useless to conjecture. A fresh difficulty had been added to +my task by this puzzling discovery, but difficulties only increased my +interest. It was with an odd feeling of elation that, in a further examination +of this room, I came upon two additional facts equally odd and irreconcilable. +</p> + +<p> +One was the presence of a penknife with the file blade open, on a small table +under the window marked by the loosened shutter. Scattered about it were some +filings which shone as the light from my lantern fell upon them, but which were +so fine as to call for a magnifying-glass to make them out. The other was in +connection with a closet not far from the great bed. It was an empty closet so +far as the hooks went and the two great drawers which I found standing half +open at its back; but in the middle of the floor lay an overturned candelabrum +similar to the one below, but with its prisms scattered and its one candle +crushed and battered out of all shape on the blackened boards. If upset while +alight, the foot which had stamped upon it in a wild endeavor to put out the +flames had been a frenzied one. Now, by whom had this frenzy been shown, and +when? Within the hour? I could detect no smell of smoke. At some former time, +then? say on the day of the bridal? +</p> + +<p> +Glancing from the broken candle at my feet to the one giving its last sputter +in the tumbler on the dressing table, I owned myself perplexed. +</p> + +<p> +Surely, no ordinary explanation fitted these extraordinary and seemingly +contradictory circumstances. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap04"></a>IV.<br /> +SIGNED, VERONICA</h2> + +<p> +I am in some ways hypersensitive. Among my other weaknesses I have a wholesome +dread of ridicule, and this is probably why I failed to press my theory on the +captain when he appeared, and even forbore to mention the various small matters +which had so attracted my attention. If he and the experienced men who came +with him saw suicide and nothing but suicide in this lamentable shooting of a +bride of two weeks, then it was not for me to suggest a deeper crime, +especially as one of the latter eyed me with open scorn when I proposed to +accompany them upstairs into the room where the light had been seen burning. +No, I would keep my discoveries to myself or, at least, forbear to mention them +till I found the captain alone, asking nothing at this juncture but permission +to remain in the house till Mr. Jeffrey arrived. +</p> + +<p> +I had been told that an officer had gone for this gentleman, and when I heard +the sound of wheels in front I made a rush for the door, in my anxiety to catch +a glimpse of him. But it was a woman who alighted. +</p> + +<p> +As this woman was in a state of great agitation, one of the men hastened down +to offer his arm. As she took it, I asked Hibbard, who had suddenly reappeared +upon the scene, who she was. +</p> + +<p> +He said that she was probably the sister of the woman who lay inside. Upon +which I remembered that this lady, under the name of Miss Tuttle—she was +but half-sister to Miss Moore—had been repeatedly mentioned by the +reporters, in the accounts of the wedding before mentioned, as a person of +superior attainments and magnificent beauty. +</p> + +<p> +This did not take from my interest, and flinging decorum to the winds, I +approached as near as possible to the threshold which she must soon cross. As I +did so I was astonished to hear the strains of Uncle David’s organ still +pealing from the opposite side of the way. This at a moment so serious and +while matters of apparent consequence were taking place in the house to which +he had himself directed the attention of the police, struck me as carrying +stoicism to the extreme. Not very favorably impressed by this display of open +if not insulting indifference on the part of the sole remaining Moore,—an +indifference which did not appear quite natural even in a man of his morbid +eccentricity,—I resolved to know more of this old man and, above all, to +make myself fully acquainted with the exact relations which had existed between +him and his unhappy niece. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile Miss Tuttle had stepped within the circle of light cast by our +lanterns. +</p> + +<p> +I have never seen a finer woman, nor one whose features displayed a more +heart-rending emotion. This called for respect, and I, for one, endeavored to +show it by withdrawing into the background. But I soon stepped forward again. +My desire to understand her was too great, the impression made by her bearing +too complex, to be passed over lightly by one on the lookout for a key to the +remarkable tragedy before us. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile her lips had opened with the cry: +</p> + +<p> +“My sister! Where is my sister?” +</p> + +<p> +The captain made a hurried movement toward the rear and then with the laudable +intention, doubtless, of preparing her for the ghastly sight which awaited her, +returned and opened a way for her into the drawing-room. But she was not to be +turned aside from her course. Passing him by, she made directly for the library +which she entered with a bound. Struck by her daring, we all crowded up behind +her, and, curious brutes that we were, grouped ourselves in a semicircle about +the doorway as she faltered toward her sister’s outstretched form and +fell on her knees beside it. Her involuntary shriek and the fierce recoil she +made as her eyes fell on the long white ribbon trailing over the floor from her +sister’s wrist, struck me as voicing the utmost horror of which the human +soul is capable. It was as though her very soul were pierced. Something in the +fact itself, something in the appearance of this snowy ribbon tied to the +scarce whiter wrist, seemed to pluck at the very root of her being; and when +her glance, in traveling its length, lighted on the death dealing weapon at its +end, she cringed in such apparent anguish that we looked to see her fall in a +swoon or break out into delirium. We were correspondingly startled when she +suddenly burst forth with this word of stern command: +</p> + +<p> +“Untie that knot! Why do you leave that dreadful thing fast to her? Untie +it, I say, it is killing me; I can not bear the sight.” And from +trembling she passed to shuddering till her whole body shook convulsively. +</p> + +<p> +The captain, with much consideration, drew back the hand he had impulsively +stretched toward the ribbon. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no,” he protested; “we can not do that; we can do +nothing till the coroner comes. It is necessary that he should see her just as +she was found. Besides, Mr. Jeffrey has a right to the same privilege. We +expect him any moment.” +</p> + +<p> +The beautiful head of the woman before us shook involuntarily, but her lips +made no protest. I doubt if she possessed the power of speech at that moment. A +change, subtle, but quite perceptible, had taken place in her emotions at +mention of her sister’s husband, and, though she exerted herself to +remain calm, the effort seemed too much for her strength. Anxious to hide this +evidence of weakness, she rose impetuously; and then we saw how tall she was, +how the long lines of her cloak became her, and what a glorious creature she +was altogether. +</p> + +<p> +“It will kill him,” she groaned in a deep inward voice. Then, with +a certain forced haste and in a tone of surprise which to my ear had not quite +a natural ring, she called aloud on her who could no longer either listen or +answer: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Veronica, Veronica! What cause had you for death? And why do we find +you lying here in a spot you so feared and detested?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you know?” insinuated the captain, with a mild +persuasiveness, such as he was seldom heard to use. “Do you mean that you +can not account for your sister’s violent end, you, who have lived with +her—or so I have been told—ever since her marriage with Mr. +Jeffrey?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +Keen and clear the word rang out, fierce in its keenness and almost too clear +to be in keeping with the half choked tones with which she added: “I know +that she was not happy, that she never has been happy since the shadow which +this room suggests fell upon her marriage. But how could I so much as dream +that her dread of the past or her fear of the future would drive her to +suicide, and in this place of all places! Had I done so—had I imagined in +the least degree that she was affected to this extent—do you think that I +would have left her for one instant alone? None of us knew that she +contemplated death. She had no appearance of it; she laughed when +I—” +</p> + +<p> +What had she been about to say? The captain seemed to wonder, and after waiting +in vain for the completion of her sentence, he quietly suggested: +</p> + +<p> +“You have not finished what you had to say, Miss Tuttle.” +</p> + +<p> +She started and seemed to come back from some remote region of thought into +which she had wandered. “I don’t know—I forget,” she +stammered, with a heart-broken sigh. “Poor Veronica! Wretched Veronica! +How shall I ever tell <i>him!</i> How, how, can we ever prepare +<i>him!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +The captain took advantage of this reference to Mr. Jeffrey to ask where that +gentleman was. The young lady did not seem eager to reply, but when pressed, +answered, though somewhat mechanically, that it was impossible for her to say; +Mr. Jeffrey had many friends with any one of whom he might be enjoying a social +evening. +</p> + +<p> +“But it is far past midnight now,” remarked the captain. “Is +he in the habit of remaining out late?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sometimes,” she faintly admitted. “Two or three times since +his marriage he has been out till one.” +</p> + +<p> +Were there other causes for the young bride’s evident disappointment and +misery besides the one intimated? There certainly was some excuse for thinking +so. +</p> + +<p> +Possibly some one of as may have shown his doubts in this regard, for the woman +before us suddenly broke forth with this vehement assertion: +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Jeffrey was a loving husband to my sister. A <i>very</i> loving +husband,” she emphasized. Then, growing desperately pale, she added, +“I have never known a better man,” and stopped. +</p> + +<p> +Some hidden anguish in this cry, some self-consciousness in this pause, +suggested to me a possibility which I was glad to see ignored by the captain in +his next question. +</p> + +<p> +“When did you see your sister last?” he asked. “Were you at +home when she left her husband’s house?” +</p> + +<p> +“Alas!” she murmured. Then seeing that a more direct answer was +expected of her, she added with as little appearance of effort as possible: +“I <i>was</i> at home and I heard her go out. But I had no idea that it +was for any purpose other than to join some social gathering.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dressed this way?” +</p> + +<p> +The captain pointed to the floor and her eyes followed. Certainly Mrs. Jeffrey +was not appareled for an evening company. As Miss Tuttle realized the trap into +which she had been betrayed, her words rushed forth and tripped each other up. +</p> + +<p> +“I did not notice. She often wore black—it became her. My sister +was eccentric.” +</p> + +<p> +Worse, worse than useless. Some slips can not be explained away. Miss Tuttle +seemed to realize that this was one of them, for she paused abruptly, with the +words half finished on her tongue. Yet her attitude commanded respect, and I +for one was ready to accord it to her. +</p> + +<p> +Certainly, such a woman was not to be seen every day, and if her replies lacked +candor, there was a nobility in her presence which gave the lie to any doubt. +At least, that was the effect she produced on me. Whether or not her +interrogator shared my feeling I could not so readily determine, for his +attention as well as mine was suddenly diverted by the cry which now escaped +her lips. +</p> + +<p> +“Her watch! Where is her watch? It is gone! I saw it on her breast and +it’s gone. It hung just—just where—” +</p> + +<p> +“Wait!” cried one of the men who had been peering about the floor. +“Is this it?” +</p> + +<p> +He held aloft a small object blazing with jewels. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” she gasped, trying to take it. +</p> + +<p> +But the officer gave it to the captain instead. +</p> + +<p> +“It must have slipped from her as she fell,” remarked the latter, +after a cursory examination of the glittering trinket. “The pin by which +she attached it to her dress must have been insecurely fastened.” Then +quickly and with a sharp look at Miss Tuttle: “Do you know if this was +considered an accurate timepiece?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Why do you ask? Is it—” +</p> + +<p> +“Look!” He held it up with the face toward us. The hands stood at +thirteen minutes past seven. “The hour and the moment when it struck the +floor,” he declared. “And consequently the hour and the moment when +Mrs. Jeffrey fell,” finished Durbin. +</p> + +<p> +Miss Tuttle said nothing, only gasped. +</p> + +<p> +“Valuable evidence,” quoth the captain, putting the watch in his +pocket. Then, with a kind look at her, called forth by the sight of her misery: +</p> + +<p> +“Does this hour agree with the time of her leaving the house?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can not say. I think so. It was some time before or after seven. I +don’t remember the exact minute.” +</p> + +<p> +“It would take fifteen for her to walk here. Did she walk?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know. I didn’t see her leave. My room is at the back of +the house.” +</p> + +<p> +“You can say if she left alone or in the company of her husband?” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Jeffrey was not with her?” +</p> + +<p> +“Was Mr. Jeffrey in the house?” +</p> + +<p> +“He was not.” +</p> + +<p> +This last negative was faintly spoken. +</p> + +<p> +The captain noticed this and ventured upon interrogating her further. +</p> + +<p> +“How long had he been gone?” +</p> + +<p> +Her lips parted; she was deeply agitated; but when she spoke it was coldly and +with studied precision. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Jeffrey was not at home tonight at all. He has not been in all +day.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at home? Did his wife know that he was going to dine out?” +</p> + +<p> +“She said nothing about it.” +</p> + +<p> +The captain cut short his questions and in another moment I understood why. A +gentleman was standing in the doorway, whose face once seen, was enough to stop +the words on any man’s lips. Miss Tuttle saw this gentleman almost as +quickly as we did and sank with an involuntary moan to her knees. +</p> + +<p> +It was Francis Jeffrey come to look upon his dead bride. +</p> + +<p> +I have been present at many tragic scenes and have beheld men under almost +every aspect of grief, terror and remorse; but there was something in the face +of this man at this dreadful moment that was quite new to me, and, as I judge, +equally new to the other hardy officials about me. To be sure he was a +gentleman and a very high-bred one at that; and it is but seldom we have to do +with any of his ilk. +</p> + +<p> +Breathlessly we awaited his first words. +</p> + +<p> +Not that he showed frenzy or made any display of the grief or surprise natural +to the occasion. On the contrary, he was the quietest person present, and among +all the emotions his white face mirrored I saw no signs of what might be called +sorrow. Yet his appearance was one to wring the heart and rouse the most +contradictory conjectures as to just what chord in his evidently highly strung +nature throbbed most acutely to the horror and astonishment of this appalling +end of so short a married life. +</p> + +<p> +His eye, which was fixed on the prostrate body of his bride, did not yield up +its secret. When he moved and came to where she lay and caught his first sight +of the ribbon and the pistol attached to it, the most experienced among us were +baffled as to the nature of his feelings and thoughts. One thing alone was +patent to all. He had no wish to touch this woman whom he had so lately sworn +to cherish. His eyes devoured her, he shuddered and strove several times to +speak, and though kneeling by her side, he did not reach forth his hand nor did +he let a tear fall on the appealing features so pathetically turned upward as +if to meet his look. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly he leaped to his feet. +</p> + +<p> +“Must she stay here?” he demanded, looking about for the person +most in authority. +</p> + +<p> +The captain answered by a question: +</p> + +<p> +“How do you account for her being here at all? What explanation have you, +as her husband, to give for this strange suicide of your wife?” +</p> + +<p> +For reply, Mr. Jeffrey, who was an exceptionally handsome man, drew forth a +small slip of crumpled paper, which he immediately handed over to the speaker. +</p> + +<p> +“Let her own words explain,” said he. “I found this scrap of +writing in our upstairs room when I returned home tonight. She must have +written it just before—before—” +</p> + +<p> +A smothered groan filled up the break, but it did not come from his lips, which +were fixed and set, but from those of the woman who crouched amongst us. Did he +catch this expression of sorrow from one whose presence he as yet had given no +token of recognizing? He did not seem to. His eye was on the captain, who was +slowly reading, by the light of a lantern held in a detective’s hand, the +almost illegible words which Mr. Jeffrey had just said were his wife’s +last communication. +</p> + +<p> +Will they seem as pathetic to the eye as they did to the ear in that room of +awesome memories and present death? +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“I find that I do not love you as I thought I did. I can not live, +knowing this to be so. I pray God that you may forgive me. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +V<small>ERONICA</small>” +</p> + +<p> +A gasp from the figure in the corner; then silence. We were glad to hear the +captain’s voice again. +</p> + +<p> +“A woman’s heart is a great mystery,” he remarked, with a +short glance at Mr. Jeffrey. +</p> + +<p> +It was a sentiment we could all echo; for he, to whom she had alluded in these +few lines as one she could not love, was a man whom most women would consider +the embodiment of all that was admirable and attractive. +</p> + +<p> +That one woman so regarded him was apparent to all. If ever the heart spoke in +a human face, it spoke in that of Miss Tuttle as she watched her sister’s +husband struggling for composure above the prostrate form of her who but a few +hours previous had been the envy of all the fashionable young women in +Washington. I found it hard to fix my attention on the next question, +interesting and valuable as every small detail was likely to prove in case my +theory of this crime should ever come to be looked on as the true one. +</p> + +<p> +“How came you to search here for the wife who had written you this vague +and far from satisfactory farewell? I see no hint in these lines of the place +where she intended to take her life.” +</p> + +<p> +“No! no!” Even this strong man shrank from this idea and showed a +very natural recoil as his glances flew about the ill-omened room and finally +rested on the fireside over which so repellent a mystery hung in impenetrable +shadow. “She said nothing of her intentions; nothing! But the man who +came for me told me where she was to be found. He was waiting at the door of my +house. He had been on a search for me up and down the town. We met on the +stoop.” +</p> + +<p> +The captain accepted this explanation without cavil. I was glad he did. But to +me the affair showed inconsistencies which I secretly felt it to be my especial +duty to unravel. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap05"></a>V.<br /> +MASTER AND DOG</h2> + +<p> +No further opportunity was afforded me that night for studying the three +leading characters in the remarkable drama I saw unfolding before me. A task +was assigned me by the captain which took me from the house, and I missed the +next scene—the arrival of the coroner. But I repaid myself for this loss +in a way I thought justified by the importance of my own theory and the evident +necessity there was of collecting each and every point of evidence which could +give coloring to the charge, in the event of this crime coming to be looked on +at headquarters as one of murder. +</p> + +<p> +Observing that a light was still burning in Uncle David’s domicile, I +crossed to his door and rang the bell. I was answered by the deep and prolonged +howl of a dog, soon cut short by his master’s amiable greeting. This +latter was a surprise to me. I had heard so often of Mr. Moore’s +churlishness as a host that I had expected some rebuff. But I encountered no +such tokens of hostility. His brow was smooth and his smile cheerfully +condescending. Indeed, he appeared anxious to have me enter, and cast an +indulgent look at Rudge, whose irrepressible joy at this break in the monotony +of his existence was tinged with a very evident dread of offending his master. +Interested anew, I followed this man of contradictory impulses into the room +toward which he led me. +</p> + +<p> +The time has now come for a more careful description of this peculiar man. Mr. +Moore was tall and of that refined spareness of shape which suggests the +scholar. Yet he had not the scholar’s eye. On the contrary, his regard +was quick, if not alert, and while it did not convey actual malice or ill-will, +it roused in the spectator an uncomfortable feeling, not altogether easy to +analyze. He wore his iron gray locks quite long, and to this distinguishing +idiosyncrasy, as well as to his invariable custom of taking his dog with him +wherever he went, was due the interest always shown in him by street urchins. +On account of his whimsicalities, he had acquired the epithet of Uncle David +among them, despite his aristocratic connections and his gentlemanlike bearing. +His clothes formed no exception to the general air of individuality which +marked him. They were of different cut from those of other men, and in this as +in many other ways he was a law to himself; notably so in the following +instance: He kept one day of the year religiously, and kept it always in the +same way. Long years before, he had been blessed with a wife who both +understood and loved him. He had never forgotten this fact, and once a year, +presumably on the anniversary of her death, it was his custom to go to the +cemetery where she lay and to spend the whole day under the shadow of the stone +he had raised to her memory. No matter what the weather, no matter what the +condition of his own health, he was always to be seen in this spot, at the hour +of seven, leaning against the shaft on which his wife’s name was written, +eating his supper in the company of his dog. It was a custom he had never +omitted. So well known was it to the boys and certain other curious individuals +in the neighborhood that he never lacked an audience, though woe betide the +daring foot that presumed to invade the precincts of the lot he called his, or +the venturesome voice which offered to raise itself in gibe or jeer. He had but +to cast a glance at Rudge and an avenging rush scattered the crowd in a +twinkling. But he seldom had occasion to resort to this extreme measure for +preserving the peace and quiet of his solemn watch. As a rule he was allowed to +eat his meal undisturbed, and to pass out unmolested even by ridicule, though +his teeth might still be busy over some final tidbit. Often the great tears +might be seen hanging undried upon his withered cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +So much for one oddity which may stand as a sample of many others. +</p> + +<p> +One glance at the room into which he ushered me showed why he cherished so +marked a dislike for visitors. It was bare to the point of discomfort, and had +it not been for a certain quaintness in the shape of the few articles to be +seen there, I should have experienced a decided feeling of repulsion, so +pronounced was the contrast between this poverty-stricken interior and the +polished bearing of its owner. He, I am sure, could have shown no more elevated +manners if he had been doing the honors of a palace. The organ, with the marks +of home construction upon it, was the only object visible which spoke of luxury +or even comfort. +</p> + +<p> +But enough of these possibly uninteresting details. I did not dwell on them +myself, except in a vague way and while waiting for him to open the +conversation. This he did as soon as he saw that I had no intention of speaking +first. +</p> + +<p> +“And did you find any one in the old house?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +Keeping him well under my eye, I replied with intentional brusqueness: +</p> + +<p> +“She has gone there once too often!” +</p> + +<p> +The stare he gave me was that of an actor who feels that some expression of +surprise is expected from him. +</p> + +<p> +“She?” he repeated. “Whom can you possibly mean by +she?” +</p> + +<p> +The surprise I expressed at this bold attempt at ingenuousness was better +simulated than his, I hope. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t know!” I exclaimed. “Can you live directly +opposite a place of such remarkable associations and not interest yourself in +who goes in and out of its deserted doors?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t sit in my front window,” he peevishly returned. +</p> + +<p> +I let my eye roam toward a chair standing suspiciously near the very window he +had designated. +</p> + +<p> +“But you saw the light?” I suggested. +</p> + +<p> +“I saw that from the door-step when I went out to give Rudge his usual +five minutes’ breathing spell on the stoop. But you have not answered my +question; whom do you mean by <i>she?</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“Veronica Jeffrey,” I replied. “She who was Veronica Moore. +She has visited this haunted house of hers for the last time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Last time!” Either he could not or would not understand me. +</p> + +<p> +“What has happened to my niece?” he cried, rising with an energy +that displaced the great dog and sent him, with hanging head and trailing tail, +to his own special sleeping-place under the table. “Has she run upon a +ghost in those dismal apartments? You interest me greatly. I did not think she +would ever have the pluck to visit this house again after what happened at her +wedding.” +</p> + +<p> +“She has had the pluck,” I assured him; “and what is more, +she has had enough of it not only to reenter the house, but to reenter it +alone. At least, such is the present inference. Had you been blessed with more +curiosity and made more frequent use of the chair so conveniently placed for +viewing the opposite house, you might have been in a position to correct this +inference. It would help the police materially to know positively that she had +no companion in her fatal visit.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fatal?” he repeated, running his finger inside his neckband, which +suddenly seemed to have grown too tight for comfort. “Can it be that my +niece has been frightened to death in that old place? You alarm me.” +</p> + +<p> +He did not look alarmed, but then he was not of an impressible nature. Yet he +was of the same human clay as the rest of us, and, if he knew no more of this +occurrence than he tried to make out, could not be altogether impervious to +what I had to say next. +</p> + +<p> +“You have a right to be alarmed,” I assented. “She was not +frightened to death, yet is she lying dead on the library floor.” Then, +with a glance at the windows about me, I added lightly: “I take it that a +pistol-shot delivered over there could not be heard in this room.” +</p> + +<p> +He sank rather melodramatically into his seat, yet his face and form did not +lose that sudden assumption of dignity which I had observed in him ever since +my entrance into the house. +</p> + +<p> +“I am overwhelmed by this news,” he remarked. “She has shot +herself? Why?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did not say that she had shot <i>herself</i>,” I carefully +repeated. “Yet the facts point that way and Mr. Jeffrey accepts the +suicide theory without question.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, Mr. Jeffrey is there!” +</p> + +<p> +“Most certainly; he was sent for at once.” +</p> + +<p> +“And Miss Tuttle? She came with him of course?” +</p> + +<p> +“She came, but not with him. She is very fond of her sister.” +</p> + +<p> +“I must go over at once,” he cried, leaping again to his feet and +looking about for his hat. “It is my duty to make them feel at home; in +short, to—to put the house at their disposal.” Here he found his +hat and placed it on his head. “The property is mine now, you +know,” he politely explained, turning, with a keen light in his gray eye, +full upon me and overwhelming me with the grand air of a man who has come +unexpectedly into his own. “Mrs. Jeffrey’s father was my younger +brother—the story is an old and long one—and the property, which in +all justice should have been divided between us, went entirely to him. But he +was a good fellow in the main and saw the injustice of his father’s will +as clearly as I did, and years ago made one on his own account bequeathing me +the whole estate in case he left no issue, or that issue died. Veronica was his +only child; Veronica has died; therefore the old house is mine and all that +goes with it, <i>all that goes with it</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +There was the miser’s gloating in this repetition of a phrase +sufficiently expressive in itself, or rather the gloating of a man who sees +himself suddenly rich after a life of poverty. There was likewise a callousness +as regarded his niece’s surprising death which I considered myself to +have some excuse for noticing. +</p> + +<p> +“You accept her death very calmly,” I remarked. “Probably you +knew her to be possessed of an erratic mind.” +</p> + +<p> +He was about to bestow an admonitory kick on his dog, who had been indiscreet +enough to rise at his master’s first move, but his foot stopped in mid +air, in his anxiety to concentrate all his attention on his answer. +</p> + +<p> +“I am a man of few sentimentalities,” he coldly averred. “I +have loved but one person in my whole life. Why then should I be expected to +mourn over a niece who did not care enough for me to invite me to her wedding? +It would be an affectation unworthy the man who has at last come to fill his +rightful position in this community as the owner of the great Moore estate. For +great it shall be,” he emphatically continued. “In three years you +will not know the house over yonder. Despite its fancied ghosts and +death-dealing fireplace, it will stand A Number One in Washington. I, David +Moore, promise you this; and I am not a man to utter fatuous prophecies. But I +must be missed over there.” Here he gave the mastiff the long delayed +kick. “Rudge, stay here! The vestibule opposite is icy. Besides, your +howls are not wanted in those old walls tonight even if you would go with me, +which I doubt. He has never been willing to cross to that side of the +street,” the old gentleman went on to complain, with his first show of +irritation. “But he’ll have to overcome that prejudice soon, even +if I have to tear up the old hearthstone and reconstruct the walls. I +can’t live without Rudge, and I will not live in any other place than in +the old home of my ancestors.” +</p> + +<p> +I was by this time following him out. +</p> + +<p> +“You have failed to answer the suggestion I made you a minute +since,” I hazarded. “Will you pardon me if I put it now as a +question? Your niece, Mrs. Jeffrey, seemed to have everything in the world to +make her happy, yet she took her life. Was there a taint of insanity in her +blood, or was her nature so impulsive that her astonishing death in so +revolting a place should awaken in you so little wonder?” +</p> + +<p> +A gleam of what had made him more or less feared by the very urchins who dogged +his steps and made sport of him at a respectful distance shot from his eye as +he glowered back at me from the open door. But he hastily suppressed this sign +of displeasure and replied with the faintest tinge of sarcasm: +</p> + +<p> +“There! you are expecting from me feelings which belong to youth or to +men of much more heart than understanding. I tell you that I have no feelings. +My niece may have developed insanity or she may simply have drunk her cup of +pleasure dry at twenty-two and come to its dregs prematurely. I do not know and +I do not care. What concerns me is that the responsibility of a large fortune +has fallen upon me most unexpectedly and that I have pride enough to wish to +show myself capable of sustaining the burden. Besides, they may be tempted to +do some mischief to the walls or floors over there. The police respect no +man’s property. But I am determined they shall respect mine. No rippings +up or tearings down will I allow unless I stand by to supervise the job. I am +master of the old homestead now and I mean to show it.” And with a last +glance at the dog, who uttered the most mournful of protests in reply, he shut +the front door and betook himself to the other side of the street. +</p> + +<p> +As I noticed his assured bearing as he disappeared within the forbidding portal +which, according to his own story, had for so long a time been shut against +him, I asked myself if the candle which I had noticed lying on his mantel-shelf +was of the same make and size as those I had found in my late investigations in +the house he was then entering. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap06"></a>VI.<br /> +GOSSIP</h2> + +<p> +Next morning the city was in a blaze of excitement. All the burning questions +of the hour—the rapid mobilization of the army and the prospect of a +speedy advance on Cuba—were forgotten in the one engrossing topic of +young Mrs. Jeffrey’s death and the awful circumstances surrounding it. +Nothing else was in any one’s mouth and but little else in any +one’s heart. Her youth, her prominence, her union with a man of such +marked attractions as Mr. Jeffrey, the tragedy connected with her marriage, +thrown now into shadow by the still more poignant tragedy which had so suddenly +terminated her own life, gave to the affair an interest which for those first +twenty-four hours did not call for any further heightening by a premature +suggestion of murder. +</p> + +<p> +Though I was the hero of the hour and, as such, subjected to an infinite number +of questions, I followed the lead of my superiors in this regard and carefully +refrained from advancing any theories beyond the obvious one of suicide. The +moment for self-exploitation was not ripe; I did not stand high enough in the +confidence of the major, or, I may say, of the lieutenant of my own precinct, +to risk the triumph I anticipated ultimately by a premature expression of +opinion. +</p> + +<p> +I had an enemy at headquarters; or, rather, one of the men there had always +appeared peculiarly interested in showing me up in the worst light. The name of +this man was Durbin, and it was he who had uttered something like a slighting +remark when on that first night I endeavored to call the captain’s +attention to some of the small matters which had offered themselves to me in +the light of clues. Perhaps it was the prospect of surprising him some day +which made me so wary now as well as so alert to fill my mind with all known +facts concerning the Jeffreys. One of my first acts was to turn over the files +of the Star and reread the following account of the great wedding. As it is a +sensational description of a sensational event, I shall make no apology for the +headlines which startled all Washington the night they appeared. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +“STARTLING TERMINATION OF THE JEFFREY-MOORE WEDDING. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +THE TRADITIONAL DOOM FOLLOWS THE OPENING OF THE OLD HOUSE ON WAVERLEY AVENUE. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +ONE OF THE GUESTS FOUND LYING DEAD ON THE LIBRARY HEARTHSTONE. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +LETTERS IN HIS POCKET SHOW HIM TO HAVE BEEN ONE W. PFEIFFER OF DENVER. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +NO INTERRUPTION TO THE CEREMONY FOLLOWS THIS GHASTLY DISCOVERY, BUT THE GUESTS +FLY IN ALL DIRECTIONS AS SOON AS THE NUPTIAL KNOT IS TIED. +</p> + +<p> +“The festivities attendant upon the wedding of Miss Veronica Moore to Mr. +Francis Jeffrey of this city met with a startling check today. As most of our +readers know, the long-closed house on Waverley Avenue, which for nearly a +century has been in possession of the bride’s family, was opened for the +occasion at the express wish of the bride. For a week the preparations for this +great function have been going on. When at an early hour this morning a line of +carriages drew up in front of the historic mansion and the bridal party entered +under its once gloomy but now seemingly triumphant portal, the crowds, which +blocked the street from curb to curb, testified to the interest felt by the +citizens of Washington in this daring attempt to brave the traditions which +have marked this house out as solitary, and by a scene of joyous festivity make +the past forgotten and restore again to usefulness the decayed grandeurs of an +earlier time. As Miss Moore is one of Washington’s most charming women, +and as this romantic effort naturally lent an extraordinary interest to the +ceremony of her marriage, a large number of our representative people assembled +to witness it, and by high noon the scene was one of unusual brilliancy. +</p> + +<p> +“Halls which had moldered away in an unbroken silence for years echoed +again with laughter and palpitated to the choicest strains of the Marine Band. +All doors were open save those of the library—an exception which added a +pleasing excitement to the occasion—and when by chance some of the more +youthful guests were caught peering behind the two Corinthian pillars guarding +these forbidden precincts the memories thus evoked were momentary and the +shadow soon passed. +</p> + +<p> +“The wedding had been set for high noon, and as the clock in the +drawing-room struck the hour every head was craned to catch the first glimpse +of the bride coming down the old-fashioned staircase. But five minutes, ten +minutes, a half-hour, passed without this expectation being gratified. The +crowd above and below was growing restless, when suddenly a cry was heard from +beyond the gilded pillars framing the library door, and a young lady was seen +rushing from the forbidden quarter, trembling with dismay and white with +horror. It was Miss Abbott of Stratford Circle, who in the interim of waiting +had allowed her curiosity to master her dread, and by one peep into the room, +which seemed to exercise over her the fascination of a Bluebeard’s +chamber, discovered the outstretched form of a man lying senseless and +apparently dead on the edge of the hearthstone. The terror which instantly +spread amongst the guests shows the hold which superstition has upon all +classes of humanity. Happily, however, an unseemly panic was averted, by the +necessity which all felt of preserving some sort of composure till the ceremony +for which they had assembled had been performed. For simultaneously with this +discovery of death in the library there had come from above the sound of the +approaching bridal procession, and cries were hushed, and beating hearts +restrained, as Miss Moore’s charming face and exquisite figure appeared +between the rows of flowering plants with which the staircase was lined. No +need for the murmur to go about, ‘Spare the bride! Let nothing but cheer +surround her till she is Jeffrey’s wife!’ The look of joy which +irradiated her countenance, and gave a fairy-like aspect to her whole exquisite +person would have deterred the most careless and self-centered person there +from casting a shadow across her pathway one minute sooner than necessity +demanded. The richness of the ancestral veil which covered her features and the +natural timidity which prevents a bride from lifting her eyes from the floor +she traverses saved her from observing the strange looks by which her presence +was hailed. She was consequently enabled to go through the ceremony in happy +unconsciousness of the forced restraint which held that surging mass together. +</p> + +<p> +“But the bridesmaids were not so happy. Miss Tuttle especially held +herself upright simply by the exercise of her will; and though resplendent in +beauty, suffered so much in her anxiety for the bride that it was a matter of +small surprise when she fainted at the conclusion of the ceremony. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Jeffrey showed more composure, but the inward excitement under which +he was laboring made him trip more than once in his responses, as many there +noted whose minds were not fixed too strongly on flight. +</p> + +<p> +“Only Doctor Auchincloss was quite himself, and by means of the solemnity +with which he invested his words kept the hubbub down, which was already making +itself heard on the outskirts of the crowd. But even his influence did not +prevail beyond the moment devoted to the benediction. Once the sacred words +were said, such a stampede followed that the bride showed much alarm, and it +was left for Mr. Jeffrey to explain to her the cause of this astonishing +conduct on the part of her guests. She bore the disclosure well, all things +considered, and once she was fully assured that the unhappy man whose sudden +death had thus interrupted the festivities was an intruder upon the scene, and +quite unknown, not only to herself but to her newly-made husband, she +brightened perceptibly, though, like every one around her, she seemed anxious +to leave the house, and, indeed, did so as soon as Miss Tuttle’s +condition warranted it. +</p> + +<p> +“The fact that the bride went through the ceremony without her bridal +bouquet is looked upon by many as an unfavorable omen. In her anxiety not to +impose any longer upon the patience of her guests, she had descended without +it. +</p> + +<p> +“As to the deceased, but little is known of him. Letters found on his +person prove his name to be W. Pfeiffer, and his residence Denver. His presence +in Miss Moore’s house at a time so inopportune is unexplained. No such +name is on the list of wedding guests, nor was he recognized as one of Miss +Moore’s friends either by Mr. Jeffrey or by such of her relatives and +acquaintances as had the courage to enter the library to see him. +</p> + +<p> +“With the exception of the discolored mark on his temple, showing where +his head had come in contact with the hearthstone, his body presents an +appearance of natural robustness, which makes his sudden end seem all the more +shocking. +</p> + +<p> +“His name has been found registered at the National Hotel.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Turning over the files, I next came upon the following despatch from Denver: +</p> + +<p> +“The sudden death in Washington of Wallace Pfeiffer, one of our best +known and most respected citizens, is deeply deplored by all who knew him and +his unfortunate mother. He is the last of her three sons, all of whom have died +within the year. The demise of Wallace leaves her entirely unprovided for. It +was not known here that Mr. Pfeiffer intended to visit Washington. He was +supposed to go in quite the opposite direction, having said to more than one +that he had business in San Francisco. His intrusion into the house of Miss +Moore during the celebration of a marriage in which he could have taken no +personal interest is explained in the following manner by such as knew his +mental peculiarities: Though a merchant by trade and latterly a miner in the +Klondike, he had great interest in the occult and was a strong believer in all +kinds of supernatural manifestations. He may have heard of the unhappy +reputation attaching to the Moore house in Washington and, fascinated by the +mystery involved, embraced the opportunity afforded by open doors and the +general confusion incident to so large a gathering to enter the interesting old +place and investigate for himself the fatal library. The fact of his having +been found secluded in this very room, at a moment when every other person in +the house was pushing forward to see the bride, lends color to this +supposition; and his sudden death under circumstances tending to rouse the +imagination shows the extreme sensitiveness of his nature. +</p> + +<p> +“He will be buried here.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +The next paragraph was short. Fresher events were already crowding this +three-days-old wonder to the wall. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“Verdict in the case of Wallace Pfeiffer, found lying dead on the +hearthstone of the old Moore house library. +</p> + +<p> +“Concussion of the brain, preceded by mental shock or heart failure. +</p> + +<p> +“The body went on to Denver today.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +And below, separated by the narrowest of spaces: +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“Mr. and Mrs. Francis Jeffrey have decided to give up their wedding tour +and spend their honeymoon in Washington. They will occupy the Ransome house on +K Street.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +The last paragraph brought me back to the question then troubling my mind. Was +it in the household of this newly married pair and in the possible secret +passions underlying their union that one should look for the cause of the +murderous crime I secretly imagined to be hidden behind this seeming suicide? +Or were these parties innocent and old David Moore the one motive power in +precipitating a tragedy, the result of which had been to enrich him and +impoverish them? Certainly, a most serious and important question, and one +which any man might be pardoned for attempting to answer, especially if that +man was a young detective lamenting his obscurity and dreaming of a recognition +which would yield him fame and the wherewithal to marry a certain clever but +mischievous little minx of whom you are destined to hear more. +</p> + +<p> +But how was that same young detective, hampered as he was, and held in thrall +by a fear of ridicule and a total lack of record, to get the chance to push an +inquiry requiring opportunities which could only come by special favor? This +was what I continually asked myself, and always without result. +</p> + +<p> +True, I might approach the captain or the major with my story of the tell-tale +marks I had discovered in the dust covering the southwest chamber mantel-shelf, +and, if fortunate enough to find that these had been passed over by the other +detectives, seek to gain a hearing thereby and secure for myself the privileges +I so earnestly desired. But my egotism was such that I wished to be sure of the +hand which had made these marks before I parted with a secret which, once told, +would make or mar me. Yet to obtain the slight concession of an interview with +any of the principals connected with this crime would be difficult without the +aid of one or both of my superiors. Even to enter the house again where but a +few hours before I had made myself so thoroughly at home would require a +certain amount of pluck; for Durbin had been installed there, and Durbin was a +watch-dog whose bite as well as his bark I regarded with considerable respect. +Yet into that house I must sooner or later go, if only to determine whether or +not I had been alone in my recognition of certain clues pointing plainly toward +murder. Should I trust my lucky star and remain for the nonce quiescent? This +seemed a wise suggestion and I decided to adopt it, comforting myself with the +thought that if after a day or two of modest waiting I failed in obtaining what +I wished, I could then appeal to the lieutenant of my own precinct. He, I had +sometimes felt assured, did not regard me with an altogether unfavorable eye. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime I spent all my available time in loitering around newspaper offices +and picking up such stray bits of gossip as were offered. As no question had +yet been raised of any more serious crime than suicide, these mostly related to +the idiosyncrasies of the Moore family and the solitary position into which +Miss Tuttle had been plunged by this sudden death of her only relative. As this +beautiful and distinguished young woman had been and still was a great belle in +her special circle, her present homeless, if not penniless, position led to +many surmises. Would she marry, and, if so, to which of the many wealthy or +prominent men who had openly courted her would she accord her hand? In the +present egotistic state of my mind I secretly flattered myself that I was right +in concluding that she would say yes to no man’s entreaty till a certain +newly-made widower’s year of mourning had expired. +</p> + +<p> +But this opinion received something of a check when in a quiet talk with a +reporter I learned that it was openly stated by those who had courage to speak +that the tie which had certainly existed at one time between Mr. Jeffrey and +the handsome Miss Tuttle had been entirely of her own weaving, and that the +person of Veronica Moore, rather than the large income she commanded, had been +the attractive power which had led him away from the older sister. This seemed +improbable; for the charms of the poor little bride were not to be compared +with those of her maturer sister. Yet, as we all know, there are other +attractions than those offered by beauty. I have since heard it broadly stated +that the peculiar twitch of the lip observable in all the Moores had proved an +irresistible charm in the unfortunate Veronica, making her a radiant image when +she laughed. This was by no means a rare occurrence, so they said, before the +fancy took her to be married in the ill-starred home of her ancestors. +</p> + +<p> +The few lines of attempted explanation which she had left behind for her +husband seemed to impose on no one. To those who knew the young couple well it +was an open proof of her insanity; to those who knew them slightly, as well as +to the public at large, it was a woman’s way of expressing the +disappointment she felt in her husband. +</p> + +<p> +That I might the more readily determine which of these two theories had the +firmest basis in fact, I took advantage of an afternoon off and slipped away to +Alexandria, where, I had been told, Mr. Jeffrey had courted his bride. I wanted +a taste of local gossip, you see, and I got it. The air was fully charged with +it, and being careful not to rouse antagonism by announcing myself a detective, +I readily picked up many small facts. Brought into shape and arranged in the +form of a narrative, the result was as follows: +</p> + +<p> +John Judson Moore, the father of Veronica, had fewer oddities than the other +members of this eccentric family. It was thought, however, that he had shown +some strain of the peculiar independence of his race when, in selecting a wife, +he let his choice fall on a widow who was not only encumbered with a child, but +who was generally regarded as the plainest woman in Virginia—he who might +have had the pick of Southern beauty. But when in the course of time this +despised woman proved to be the possessor of those virtues and social graces +which eminently fitted her to conduct the large establishment of which she had +been made mistress, he was forgiven his lack of taste. Little more was said of +his peculiarities until, his wife having died and his child proved weakly, he +made the will in his brother’s favor which has since given that gentleman +such deep satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +Why this proceeding should have been so displeasing to their friends report +says not; but that it was so, is evident from the fact that great rejoicing +took place on all sides when Veronica suddenly developed into a healthy child +and the probability of David Moore’s inheriting the coveted estate +decreased to a minimum. It was not a long rejoicing, however, for John Judson +followed his wife to the grave before Veronica had reached her tenth year, +leaving her and her half-sister, Cora, to the guardianship of a crabbed old +bachelor who had been his father’s lawyer. This lawyer was morose and +peevish, but he was never positively unkind. For two years the sisters seemed +happy enough when, suddenly and somewhat peremptorily, they were separated, +Veronica being sent to a western school, where she remained, seemingly without +a single visit east, till she was seventeen. During this long absence Miss +Tuttle resided in Washington, developing under masters into an accomplished +woman. Veronica’s guardian, severe in his treatment of the youthful owner +of the large fortune of which he had been made sole executor, was unexpectedly +generous to the penniless sister, hoping, perhaps, in his close, peevish old +heart, that the charms and acquired graces of this lovely woman would soon win +for her a husband in the brilliant set in which she naturally found herself. +</p> + +<p> +But Cora Tuttle was not easy to please, and the first men of Washington came +and went before her eyes without awakening in her any special interest till she +met Francis Jeffrey, who stole her heart with a look. +</p> + +<p> +Those who remember her that winter say that under his influence she developed +from a handsome woman into a lovely one. Yet no engagement was announced, and +society was wondering what held Francis Jeffrey back from so great a prize, +when Veronica Moore came home, and the question was forever answered. +</p> + +<p> +Veronica was now nearly eighteen, and during her absence had blossomed into +womanhood. She was not as beautiful as her sister, but she had a bright and +pleasing expression with enough spice in her temperament to rob her girlish +features of insipidity and make her conversation witty, if not brilliant. Yet +when Francis Jeffrey turned his attentions from Miss Tuttle and fixed them +without reserve, or seeming shame, upon this pretty butterfly, but one term +could be found to characterize the proceeding, and that was, fortune hunting. +Of small but settled income, he had hitherto shown a certain contentment with +his condition calculated to inspire respect and make his attentions to Miss +Tuttle seem both consistent and appropriate. But no sooner did Veronica’s +bright eyes appear than he fell at the young heiress’ feet and pressed +his suit so close and fast that in two months they were engaged and at the end +of the half-year, married—with the disastrous consequences just made +known. +</p> + +<p> +So much for the general gossip of the town. Now for the special. +</p> + +<p> +A certain gentleman, whom it is unnecessary to name, had been present at one +critical instant in the lives of these three persons. He was not a +scandalmonger, and if everything had gone on happily, if Veronica had lived and +Cora settled down into matrimony, he would never have mentioned what he heard +and saw one night in the great drawing-room of a hotel in Atlantic City. +</p> + +<p> +It was at the time when the engagement was first announced between Jeffrey and +the young heiress. This and his previous attentions to Cora had made much talk, +both in Washington and elsewhere, and there were not lacking those who had +openly twitted him for his seeming inconstancy. This had been over the cups of +course, and Jeffrey had borne it well enough from his so-called friends and +intimates. But when, on a certain evening in the parlor of one of the large +hotels in Atlantic City, a fellow whom nobody knew and nobody liked accused him +of knowing on which side his bread was buttered, and that certainly it was not +on the side of beauty and superior attainments, Jeffrey got angry. Heedless of +who might be within hearing, he spoke up very plainly in these words: +“You are all of a kind, rank money-worshipers and self-seeker, or you +would not be so ready to see greed in my admiration for Miss Moore. +Disagreeable as I find it to air my sentiments in this public manner, yet since +you provoke me to it, I will say once and for all, that I am deeply in love +with Miss Moore, and that it is for this reason only I am going to marry her. +Were she the penniless girl her sister is, and Miss Tuttle the proud possessor +of the wealth which, in your eyes, confers such distinction upon Miss Moore, +you would still see me at the latter’s feet, and at hers only. Miss +Tuttle’s charms are not potent enough to hold the heart which has once +been fixed by her sister’s smile.” +</p> + +<p> +This was pointed enough, certainly, but when at the conclusion of his words a +tall figure rose from a near corner and Cora Tuttle passed the amazed group +with a bow, I dare warrant that not one of the men composing it but wished +himself a hundred miles away. +</p> + +<p> +Jeffrey himself was chagrined, and made a move to follow the woman he had so +publicly scorned, but the look she cast back at him was one to remember, and he +hesitated. What was there left for him to say, or even to do? The avowal had +been made in all its bald frankness and nothing could alter it. As for her, she +behaved beautifully, and by no word or look, so far as the world knew, ever +showed that her woman’s pride, if not her heart, had been cut to the +quick, by the one man she adored. +</p> + +<p> +With this incident filling my mind, I returned to Washington. I had acquainted +myself with the open facts of this family’s history; but what of its +inner life? Who knew it? Did any one? Even the man who confided to me the +<i>contretemps</i> in the hotel parlor could not be sure what underlay Mr. +Jeffrey’s warm advocacy of the woman he had elected to marry. He could +not even be certain that he had really understood the feeling shown by Cora +Tuttle when she heard the man, who had once lavished attentions on her, express +in this public manner a preference for her sister. A woman has great aptness in +concealing a mortal hurt, and, from what I had seen of this one, I thought it +highly improbable that all was quiet in her passionate breast because she had +turned an impassive front to the world. +</p> + +<p> +I was becoming confused in the maze of my own imaginings. To escape the results +of this confusion, I determined to drop theory and confine myself to facts. +</p> + +<p> +And thus passed the first few days succeeding the tragic discovery in the Moore +house. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap07"></a>VII.<br /> +SLY WORK</h2> + +<p> +The next morning my duty led me directly in the way of that little friend of +mine whom I have already mentioned. It is strange how often my duty did lead me +in her way. +</p> + +<p> +She is a demure little creature, with wits as bright as her eyes, which is +saying a great deal; and while, in the course of our long friendship, I had +admired without making use of the special abilities I saw in her, I felt that +the time had now come when they might prove of inestimable value to me. +</p> + +<p> +Greeting her with pardonable abruptness, I expressed my wishes in these +possibly alarming words: +</p> + +<p> +“Jinny, you can do something for me. Find out—I know you can, and +that, too, without arousing suspicion or compromising either of us—where +Mr. Moore, of Waverley Avenue, buys his groceries, and when you have done that, +whether or not he has lately resupplied himself with candles.” +</p> + +<p> +The surprise which she showed had a touch of naivete in it which was very +encouraging. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Moore?” she cried, “the uncle of her +who—who—” +</p> + +<p> +“The very same,” I responded, and waited for her questions without +adding a single word in way of explanation. +</p> + +<p> +She gave me a look—oh, what a look! It was as encouraging to the +detective as it was welcome to the lover; after which she nodded, once in +doubt, once in question and once in frank and laughing consent, and darted off. +</p> + +<p> +I thanked Providence for such a self-contained little aide-de-camp and +proceeded on my way, in a state of great self-satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +An hour later I came upon her again. It is really extraordinary how frequently +the paths of some people cross. +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Moore deals with Simpkins, just two blocks away from his house; and +only a week ago he bought some candles there.” +</p> + +<p> +I rewarded her with a smile which summoned into view the most exasperating of +dimples. +</p> + +<p> +“You had better patronize Simpkins yourself for a little while,” I +suggested; and by the arch glance with which my words were received, I +perceived that my meaning was fully understood. +</p> + +<p> +Experiencing from this moment an increased confidence, not only in the powers +of my little friend, but in the line of investigation thus happily established, +I cast about for means of settling the one great question which was a necessary +preliminary to all future action: Whether the marks detected by me in the dust +of the mantel in the southwest chamber had been made by the hand of him who had +lately felt the need of candles, albeit his house appeared to be fully lighted +by gas? +</p> + +<p> +The subterfuge by which, notwithstanding my many disadvantages, I was finally +enabled to obtain unmistakable answer to this query was the fruit of much hard +thought. Perhaps I was too proud of it. Perhaps I should have mistrusted myself +more from the start. But I was a great egotist in those days, and reckoned +quite above their inherent worth any bright ideas which I could safely call my +own. +</p> + +<p> +The point aimed at was this: to obtain without Moore’s knowledge an +accurate impression of his finger-tips. +</p> + +<p> +The task presented difficulties, but these served duly to increase my ardor. +</p> + +<p> +Confiding to the lieutenant of the precinct my great interest in the mysterious +house with whose suggestive interior I had made myself acquainted under such +tragic circumstances, I asked him as a personal favor to obtain for me an +opportunity of spending another night there. +</p> + +<p> +He was evidently surprised by the request, not cherishing, as I suppose, any +great longings himself in this direction; but recognizing that for some reason +I set great store on this questionable privilege,—I do not think that he +suspected in the least what that reason was,—and being, as I have +intimated, favorably disposed to me, he exerted himself to such good effect +that I was formally detailed to assist in keeping watch over the premises that +very night. +</p> + +<p> +I think that it was at this point I began to reckon on the success which, after +many failures and some mischances, was yet to reward my efforts. +</p> + +<p> +As I prepared to enter the old house at nightfall, I allowed myself one short +glance across the way to see if my approach had been observed by the man whose +secret, if secret he had, I was laying plans to surprise. I was met by a sight +I had not expected. Pausing on the pavement in front of me stood a handsome +elderly gentleman whose appearance was so fashionable and thoroughly up to +date, that I should have failed to recognize him if my glance had not taken in +at the same instant the figure of Rudge crouching obstinately on the edge of +the curb where he had evidently posted himself in distinct refusal to come any +farther. In vain his master,—for the well-dressed man before me was no +less a personage than the whilom butt of all the boys between the Capitol and +the Treasury building,—signaled and commanded him to cross to his side; +nothing could induce the mastiff to budge from that quarter of the street where +he felt himself safe. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Moore, glorying in the prospect of unlimited wealth, presented a startling +contrast in more ways than one to the poverty-stricken old man whose curious +garb and lonely habits had made him an object of ridicule to half the town. I +own that I was half amused and half awed by the condescending bow with which he +greeted my offhand nod and the affable way in which he remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“You are making use of your prerogatives as a member of the police, I +see.” +</p> + +<p> +The words came as easily from his lips as if his practice in affability had +been of the very longest. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder how the old place enjoys its present distinction,” he +went on, running his eye over the dilapidated walls under which we stood, with +very evident pride in their vast proportions and the air of gloomy grandeur +which signalized them. “If it partakes in the slightest degree of the +feelings of its owner, I can vouch for its impatience at the free use which is +made of its time-worn rooms and halls. Are these intrusions necessary? Now that +Mrs. Jeffrey’s body has been removed, do you feel that the scene of her +demise need hold the attention of the police any longer?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is a question to put to the superintendent and not to me,” +was my deprecatory reply. “The major has issued no orders for the watch +to be taken off, so we men have no choice. I am sorry if it offends you. +Doubtless a few days will end the matter and the keys will be given into your +hand. I suppose you are anxious to move in?” +</p> + +<p> +He cast a glance behind him at his dog, gave a whistle which passed unheeded, +and replied with dignity, if but little heart: +</p> + +<p> +“When a man has passed his seventh decade he is not apt to be so patient +with delay as when he has a prospect of many years before him. I am anxious to +enter my own house, yes; I have much to do there.” +</p> + +<p> +I came very near asking him what, but feared to seem too familiar, in case he +was the cold but upright man he would fain appear, and too interested and +inquiring if he were the whited sepulcher I secretly considered him. So with a +nod a trifle more pronounced than if I had been unaffected by either +hypothesis, I remounted the steps, carelessly remarking: +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll see you again after taking a turn through the house. If I +discover anything—ghost marks or human marks which might be of interest +to you—I’ll let you know.” +</p> + +<p> +Something like a growl answered me. But whether it came from master or dog, I +did not stop to inquire. I had serious work before me; very serious, +considering that it was to be done on my own responsibility and without the +knowledge of my superiors. But I was sustained by the thought that no whisper +of murder had as yet been heard abroad or at headquarters, and that +consequently I was interfering in no great case; merely trying to formulate +one. +</p> + +<p> +It was necessary, for the success of my plan, that some time should elapse +before I reapproached Mr. Moore. I therefore kept my word to him and satisfied +my own curiosity by taking a fresh tour through the house. Naturally, in doing +this, I visited the library. Here all was dark. The faint twilight still +illuminating the streets failed to penetrate here. I was obliged to light my +lantern. +</p> + +<p> +My first glance was toward the fireplace. Venturesome hands had been there. Not +only had the fender been drawn out and the grate set aside, but the huge +settle had been wrenched free from the mantel and dragged into the center of +the room. Rather pleased at this change, for with all my apparent bravado I did +not enjoy too close a proximity to the cruel hearthstone, I stopped to give +this settle a thorough investigation. The result was disappointing. To all +appearance—and I did not spare it the experiment of many a thump and +knock—it was a perfectly innocuous piece of furniture, clumsy of build, +but solid and absolutely devoid of anything that could explain the tragedies +which had occurred so near it. I even sat down on its musty old cushion and +shut my eyes, but was unrewarded by alarming visions, or disturbance of any +sort. Nor did the floor where it had stood yield any better results to the +inquiring eye. Nothing was to be seen there but the marks left by the removal +of its base from the blackened boards. +</p> + +<p> +Disgusted with myself, if not with this object of my present disappointment, I +left that portion of the room in which it stood and crossed to where I had +found the little table on the night of Mrs. Jeffrey’s death. It was no +longer there. It had been set back against the wall where it properly belonged, +and the candelabrum removed. Nor was the kitchen chair any longer to be seen +near the book shelves. This fact, small as it was, caused me an instant of +chagrin. I had intended to look again at the book which I had examined with +such unsatisfactory results the time before. A glance showed me that this book +had been pushed back level with the others; but I remembered its title, and, +had the means of reaching it been at hand, I should certainly have stolen +another peep at it. +</p> + +<p> +Upstairs I found the same signs of police interference. The shutter had been +fastened in the southwest room, and the bouquet and wrap taken away from the +bed. The handkerchief, also, was missing from the mantel where I had left it, +and when I opened the closet door, it was to find the floor bare and the second +candelabrum and candle removed. +</p> + +<p> +“All gone,” thought I; “each and every clue.” +</p> + +<p> +But I was mistaken. In another moment I came upon the minute filings I had +before observed scattered over a small stand. Concluding from this that they +had been passed over by Durbin and his associates as valueless, I swept them, +together with the dust in which they lay, into an old envelope I happily found +in my pocket. Then I crossed to the mantel and made a close inspection of its +now empty shelf. The scratches which I had made there were visible enough, but +the impressions for which they stood had vanished in the handling which +everything in the house had undergone. Regarding with great thankfulness the +result of my own foresight, I made haste to leave the room. I then proceeded to +take my first steps in the ticklish experiment by which I hoped to determine +whether Uncle David had had any share in the fatal business which had rendered +the two rooms I had just visited so memorable. +</p> + +<p> +First, satisfying myself by a peep through the front drawing-room window that +he was positively at watch behind the vines, I went directly to the kitchen, +procured a chair and carried it into the library, where I put it to a use that, +to an onlooker’s eye, would have appeared very peculiar. Planting it +squarely on the hearthstone,—not without some secret perturbation as to +what the results might be to myself,—I mounted it and took down the +engraving which I have already described as hanging over this mantelpiece. +</p> + +<p> +Setting it on end against one of the jambs of the fireplace, I mounted the +chair once more and carefully sifted over the high shelf the contents of a +little package which I had brought with me for this purpose. +</p> + +<p> +Then, leaving the chair where it was, I betook myself out of the front door, +ostentatiously stopping to lock it and to put the key in my pocket. +</p> + +<p> +Crossing immediately to Mr. Moore’s side of the street, I encountered him +as I had expected to do, at his own gateway. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, what now?” he inquired, with the same exaggerated courtesy I +had noticed in him on a previous occasion. “You have the air of a man +bringing news. Has anything fresh happened in the old house?” +</p> + +<p> +I assumed a frankness which seemed to impose on him. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know,” I sententiously informed him, “I have a +wonderful interest in that old hearthstone; or rather in the seemingly innocent +engraving hanging over it, of Benjamin Franklin at the Court of France. I tell +you frankly that I had no idea of what would be found behind the +picture.” +</p> + +<p> +I saw, by his quick look, that I had stirred up a hornets’ nest. This was +just what I had calculated to do. +</p> + +<p> +“Behind it!” he repeated. “There is nothing behind it.” +</p> + +<p> +I laughed, shrugged my shoulders, and backed slowly toward the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, you should know,” I retorted, with some condescension. +Then, as if struck by a sudden remembrance: “Oh, by the way, have you +been told that there is a window on that lower floor which does not stay +fastened? I speak of it that you may have it repaired as soon as the police +vacate. It’s the last one in the hall leading to the negro quarters. If +you shake it hard enough, the catch falls back and any one can raise it even +from the outside.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will see to it,” he replied, dropping his eyes, possibly to hide +their curious twinkle. “But what do you mean about finding something in +the wall behind that old picture? I’ve never heard—” +</p> + +<p> +But though he spoke quickly and shouted the last words after me at the top of +his voice, I was by this time too far away to respond save by a dubious smile +and a semi-patronizing wave of the hand. Not until I was nearly out of earshot +did I venture to shout back the following words: +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll be back in an hour. If anything happens—if the boys +annoy you, or any one attempts to enter the old house, telephone to the station +or summon the officer at the corner. I don’t believe any harm will come +from leaving the place to itself for a while.” Then I walked around the +block. +</p> + +<p> +When I arrived in front again it was quite dark. So was the house; but there +was light in the library. I felt assured that I should find Uncle David there, +and I did. When, after a noiseless entrance and a careful advance through the +hall, I threw open the door beyond the gilded pillars, it was to see the tall +figure of this old man mounted upon the chair I had left there, peering up at +the nail from which I had so lately lifted the picture. He started as I +presented myself and almost fell from the chair. But the careless laugh I +uttered assured him of the little importance I placed upon this evidence of his +daring and unappeasable curiosity, and he confronted me with an enviable air of +dignity; whereupon I managed to say: +</p> + +<p> +“Really, Mr. Moore, I’m glad to see you here. It is quite natural +for you to wish to learn by any means in your power what that picture +concealed. I came back, because I suddenly remembered that I had forgotten to +rehang it.” +</p> + +<p> +Involuntarily he glanced again at the wall overhead, which was as bare as his +hand, save for the nail he had already examined. +</p> + +<p> +“It has concealed nothing,” he retorted. “You can see +yourself that the wall is bare and that it rings as sound as any chimneypiece +ever made.” Here he struck it heavily with his fist. “What did you +imagine that you had found?” +</p> + +<p> +I smiled, shrugged my shoulders in tantalizing repetition of my former action +upon a like occasion and then answered brusquely: +</p> + +<p> +“I did not come back to betray police secrets, but to restore this +picture to its place. Or perhaps you prefer to have it down rather than up? It +isn’t much of an ornament.” +</p> + +<p> +He scrutinized me darkly from over his shoulder, a wary gleam showing itself in +his shrewd old eyes; and the idea crossed me that the moment might possess more +significance than appeared. But I did not step backward, nor give evidence in +any way that I had even thought of danger. I simply laid my hand on the picture +and looked up at him for orders. +</p> + +<p> +He promptly signified that he wished it hung, adding as I hesitated these +words: “The pictures in this house are supposed to stay on the walls +where they belong. There is a traditional superstition against removing +them.” +</p> + +<p> +I immediately lifted the print from the floor. No doubt he had me at a +disadvantage, if evil was in his heart, and my position on the hearth was as +dangerous as previous events had proved it to be. But it would not do to show +the white feather at a moment when his fate, if not my own, hung in the +balance; so motioning him to step down, I put foot on the chair and raised the +picture aloft to hang it. As I did so, he moved over to the huge settle of his +ancestors, and, crossing his arms over its back, surveyed me with a smile I +rather imagined than saw. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly, as I strained to put the cord over the nail he called out: +</p> + +<p> +“Look out! you’ll fall.” +</p> + +<p> +If he had intended to give me a start in payment for my previous rebuff he did +not succeed; for my nerves had grown steady and my arm firm at the glimpse I +had caught of the shelf below me. The fine brown powder I had scattered there +had been displaced in five distinct spots, and not by my fingers. I had +preferred to risk the loss of my balance, rather than rest my hand on the +shelf, but he had taken no such precaution. The clue I so anxiously desired and +for which I had so recklessly worked, was obtained. +</p> + +<p> +But when half an hour later I found an opportunity of measuring these marks and +comparing them with those upstairs, I did not enjoy the full triumph I had +promised myself. For the two impressions utterly failed to coincide, thus +proving that whoever the person was who had been in this house with Mrs. +Jeffrey on the evening she died, it was not her uncle David. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap08"></a>VIII.<br /> +SLYER WOES</h2> + +<p> +Let me repeat. The person who had left the marks of his presence in the upper +chamber of the Moore house was not the man popularly known as Uncle David. Who, +then, had it been? But one name suggested itself to me,—Mr. Jeffrey. +</p> + +<p> +It was not so easy for me to reach this man as it had been for me to reach his +singular and unimaginative uncle. In the first place, his door had been closed +to every one since his wife’s death. Neither friends nor strangers could +gain admittance there unless they came vested with authority from the coroner. +And this, even if I could manage to obtain it, would not answer in my case. +What I had to say and do would better follow a chance encounter. But no chance +encounter with this gentleman seemed likely to fall to my lot, and finally I +swallowed my pride and asked another favor of the lieutenant. Would he see that +I was given an opportunity for carrying some message, or of doing some errand +which would lead to my having an interview with Mr. Jeffrey? If he would, I +stood ready to promise that my curiosity should stop at this point and that I +would cease to make a nuisance of myself. +</p> + +<p> +I think he suspected me by this time; but he made no remark, and in a day or so +I was summoned to carry a note to the house in K Street. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Jeffrey’s funeral had taken place the day before and the house +looked deserted. But my summons speedily brought a neat-looking, but very +nervous maid to the door, whose eyes took on an unmistakable expression of +resistance when I announced my errand and asked to see Mr. Jeffrey. The +expression would not have struck me as peculiar if she had raised any objection +to the interview I had solicited. But she did not. Her fear and antipathy, +consequently, sprang from some other source than her interest in the man most +threatened by my visit. Was it—could it be, on her own account? Recalling +what I had heard whispered about the station concerning a maid of the Jeffreys +who always seemed on the point of saying something which never really left her +lips, I stopped her as she was about to slip upstairs and quietly asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Are you Loretta?” +</p> + +<p> +The way she turned, the way she looked at me as she gave me a short +affirmative, and then quickly proceeded on her way, convinced me that my +colleagues were right as to her being a woman who had some cause for dreading +police interference. I instantly made up my mind that here was a mine to be +worked and that I knew just the demure little soul best equipped to act the +part of miner. +</p> + +<p> +In a moment she came back, and I had a chance to note again her pretty but +expressionless features, among which the restless eyes alone bespoke character +or decision. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Jeffrey is in the back room upstairs,” she announced. +“He says for you to come up.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it the room Mrs. Jeffrey used to occupy?” I asked with open +curiosity, as I passed her. +</p> + +<p> +An involuntary shudder proved that she was not without feeling. So did the +quick disclaimer: +</p> + +<p> +“No, no! Those rooms are closed. He occupies the one Miss Tuttle had +before she went away.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, then, Miss Tuttle is gone?” +</p> + +<p> +Loretta disdained to answer. She had already said enough to cause her to bite +her lip as she disappeared down the basement stair. Decidedly the boys were +right. An uneasy feeling followed any conversation with this girl. Yet, while +there was slyness in her manner, there was a certain frank honesty visible in +it too, which caused me to think that if she could ever be made to speak, her +evidence could be relied on. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey was sitting with his back to the door when I entered, but turned as +I spoke his name and held out his hand for the note I carried. I had no +expectation of his remembering me as one of the men who had stood about that +night in the Moore house, and I was not disappointed. To him I was merely a +messenger, or common policeman; and he consequently paid me no attention, while +I bestowed upon him the most concentrated scrutiny of my whole life. Till now I +had seen him only in half lights, or under circumstances precluding my getting +a very accurate idea of him as a man and a gentleman. Now he sat with the broad +daylight on his face, and I had every opportunity for noting both his features +and expression. He was of a distinguished type; but the cloud enshrouding him +was as heavy as any I had ever seen darkening about a man of his position and +character. His manner, fettered though it was by gloomy thoughts, was not just +the manner I had expected to encounter. +</p> + +<p> +He had a large, clear eye, but the veil which hid the brightness of his regard +was misty with suspicion, not with tears. He appeared to shrink from +observation, and shifted uneasily as long as I stood in front of him, though he +said nothing and did not lift his eyes from the letter he was perusing till he +heard me step back to the door I had purposely left open and softly close it. +Then he glanced up, with a keen, if not an alarmed look, which seemed an +exaggerated one for the occasion,—that is, if he had no secret to keep. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you suffer so from drafts?” he asked, rising in a way which in +itself was a dismissal. +</p> + +<p> +I smiled an amused denial, then with the simple directness I thought most +likely to win me his confidence, entered straight upon my business in these +plain words: +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me, Mr. Jeffrey, I have something to say which is not exactly +fitted for the ears of servants.” Then, as he pushed his chair suddenly +back, I added reassuringly: “It is not a police matter, sir, but an +entirely personal one. It may strike you as important, and it may not. Mr. +Jeffrey, I was the man who made the unhappy discovery in the Moore mansion, +which has plunged this house into mourning.” +</p> + +<p> +This announcement startled him and produced a visible change in his manner. His +eyes flew first to one door and then to another, as if it were he who feared +intrusion now. +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon for speaking on so painful a topic,” I went on, +as soon as I saw he was ready to listen to me. “My excuse is that I came +upon a little thing that same night which I have not thought of sufficient +importance to mention to any one else, but which it may interest you to hear +about.” +</p> + +<p> +Here I took from a book I held, a piece of blotting-paper. It was white on one +side and blue on the other. The white side I had thickly chalked, though this +was not apparent. Laying down this piece of blotting-paper, chalked side up, on +the end of a large table near which we were standing, I took out an envelope +from my pocket, and, shaking it gently to and fro, remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“In an upper room of the Moore house—you remember the southwest +chamber, sir?” +</p> + +<p> +Ah! didn’t he! There was no misdoubting the quick emotion—the +shrinking and the alarm with which he heard this room mentioned. +</p> + +<p> +“It was in that room that I found these.” +</p> + +<p> +Tipping up the envelope, I scattered over the face of the blotter a few of the +glistening particles I had collected from the place mentioned. +</p> + +<p> +He bent over them, astonished. Then, as was natural, brushed them together in a +heap with the tips of his fingers, and leaned to look again, just as I breathed +a heavy sigh which scattered them far and wide. +</p> + +<p> +Instinctively, he withdrew his hand; whereupon I embraced the opportunity of +turning the blotter over, uttering meanwhile the most profuse apologies. Then, +as if anxious not to repeat my misadventure, I let the blotter lie where it +was, and pouring out the few remaining particles into my palm, I held them +toward the light in such a way that he was compelled to lean across the table +in order to see them. Naturally, for I had planned the distance well, his +finger-tips, white with the chalk he had unconsciously handled, touched the +blue surface of the blotter now lying uppermost and left their marks there. +</p> + +<p> +I could have shouted in my elation at the success of this risky maneuver, but +managed to suppress my emotion, and to stand quite still while he took a good +look at the filings. They seemed to have great and unusual interest for him and +it was with no ordinary emotion that he finally asked: +</p> + +<p> +“What do you make out of these, and why do you bring them here?” +</p> + +<p> +My answer was written under his hand; but this it was far from my policy to +impart. So putting on my friendliest air, I returned, with suitable respect: +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know what to make of them. They look like gold; but that +is for you to decide. Do you want them, sir?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” he replied, starting erect and withdrawing his hand from the +blotter. “It’s but a trifle, not worth our attention. But I thank +you just the same for bringing it to my notice.” +</p> + +<p> +And again his manner became a plain dismissal. +</p> + +<p> +This time I accepted it as such without question. Carelessly restoring the +piece of blotting-paper to the book from which I had taken it, I made a bow and +withdrew toward the door. He seemed to be thinking, and the deep furrows which +I am sure had been lacking from his brow a week previous, became startlingly +visible. Finally he observed: +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Jeffrey was not in her right mind when she so unhappily took her +life. I see now that the change in her dates back to her wedding day, +consequently any little peculiarity she may have shown at that time is not to +be wondered at.” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly not,” I boldly ventured; “if such peculiarities +were shown after the fright given her by the catastrophe which took place in +the library.” +</p> + +<p> +His eyes, which were fixed on mine, flashed, and his hands closed convulsively. +</p> + +<p> +“We will not consider the subject,” he muttered, reseating himself +in the chair from which he had risen. +</p> + +<p> +I bowed again and went out. I did not dwell on the interview in my own mind nor +did I allow myself to draw any conclusions from it, till I had carried the +blotter into the southwest chamber of the Moore house and carefully compared +the impressions made on it with the marks I had scratched on the surface of the +mantel-shelf. This I did by laying the one over the other, after having made +holes where his finger-tips had touched the blotter. +</p> + +<p> +The holes in the blotter and the marks outlined upon the shelf coincided +exactly. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap09"></a>IX.<br /> +JINNY</h2> + +<p> +I have already mentioned the man whom I secretly looked upon as standing +between me and all preferment. He was a good-looking fellow, but he wore a +natural sneer which for some reason I felt to be always directed toward myself. +This sneer grew pronounced about this time, and that was the reason, no doubt, +why I continued to work as long as I did in secret. I dreaded the open laugh of +this man, a laugh which always seemed hovering on his lips and which was only +held in restraint by the awe we all felt of the major. +</p> + +<p> +Notwithstanding, I made one slight move. Encountering the deputy-coroner, I +ventured to ask if he was quite satisfied with the evidence collected in the +Jeffrey case. +</p> + +<p> +His surprise did not prevent him from asking my reasons for this question. +</p> + +<p> +I replied to this effect: +</p> + +<p> +“Because I have a little friend, winsome enough and subtle enough to worm +the truth out of the devil. I hear that the girl Loretta is suspected of +knowing more about this unfortunate tragedy than she is willing to impart. If +you wish this little friend of mine to talk to her, I will see that she does so +and does so with effect.” +</p> + +<p> +The deputy-coroner looked interested. +</p> + +<p> +“Whom do you mean by ‘little friend’ and what is her +name?” +</p> + +<p> +“I will send her to you.” +</p> + +<p> +And I did. +</p> + +<p> +The next day I was standing on the corner of Vermont Avenue when I saw Jinny +advancing from the house in K Street. She was chipper, and she was smiling in a +way which made me say to myself: +</p> + +<p> +“It is fortunate that Durbin is not here.” +</p> + +<p> +For Jinny’s one weakness is her lack of power to hide the satisfaction +she takes in any detective work that comes her way. I had told her of this and +had more than once tried to impress upon her that her smile was a complete +give-away, but I noticed that if she kept it from her lips, it forced its way +out of her eyes, and if she kept it out of her eyes, it beamed like an inner +radiance from her whole face. So I gave up the task of making her perfect and +let her go on smiling, glad that she had such frequent cause for it. +</p> + +<p> +This morning her smile had a touch of pride in it as well as of delight, and +noting this, I remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“You have made Loretta talk.” +</p> + +<p> +Her head went up and a demure dimple appeared in her cheek. +</p> + +<p> +“What did she say?” I urged. “What has she been keeping +back?” +</p> + +<p> +“You will have to ask the coroner. My orders were strict to bring the +results of my interview immediately to him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does that include Durbin?” +</p> + +<p> +“Does it include you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid not.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are right; but why shouldn’t it include you?” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean, Jinny?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you keep your own counsel so long? You have ideas about this +crime, I know. Why not mention them?” +</p> + +<p> +“Jinny!” +</p> + +<p> +“A word to the wise is sufficient;” she laughed and turned her +pretty face toward the coroner’s once. But she was a woman and could not +help glancing back, and, meeting my dubious look, she broke into an arch smile +and naively added this remark: “Loretta is a busybody ashamed of her own +curiosity. So much there can be no harm in telling you. When one’s +knowledge has been gained by lingering behind doors and peeping through cracks, +one is not so ready to say what one has seen and heard. Loretta is in that box, +and being more than a little scared of the police, was glad to let her anxiety +and her fears overflow into a sympathizing ear. Won’t she be surprised +when she is called up some fine day by the coroner! I wonder if she will blame +<i>me</i> for it?” +</p> + +<p> +“She will never think of doing so,” I basely assured my little +friend, with an appreciative glance at her sparkling eye and dimpled cheek. +</p> + +<p> +The arch little creature started to move off again. As she did so, she cried: +“Be good, and don’t let Durbin cut in on you;” but stopped +for the second time when half across the street, and when, obedient to her +look, I hastily rejoined her, she whispered demurely: “Oh, I forgot to +tell you something that I heard this morning, and which nobody but yourself has +any right to know. I was following your commands and buying groceries at +Simpkins’, when just as I was coming out with my arms full, I heard old +Mr. Simpkins mention Mr. Jeffrey’s name and with such interest that I +naturally wanted to hear what he had to say. Having no real excuse for staying, +I poked my finger into a bag of sugar I was carrying, till the sugar ran out +and I had to wait till it was put up again. This did not take long, but it took +long enough for me to hear the old grocer say that he knew Mr. Jeffrey, and +that that gentleman had come into his shop only a day or two before his +wife’s death, to buy—<i>candles!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +The archness with which this was said, together with the fact itself, made me +her slave forever. As her small figure faded from sight down the avenue, I +decided to take her advice and follow up whatever communication she had to make +to the coroner by a confession of my own suspicions and what they had led me +into. If he laughed—well, I could stand it. It was not the +coroner’s laugh, nor even the major’s, that I feared; it was +Durbin’s. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap10"></a>X.<br /> +FRANCIS JEFFREY</h2> + +<p> +Jinny had not been gone an hour from the coroner’s office when an +opportunity was afforded for me to approach that gentleman myself. +</p> + +<p> +With few apologies and no preamble, I immediately entered upon my story which I +made as concise and as much to the point as possible. I did not expect praise +from him, but I did look for some slight show of astonishment at the nature of +my news. I was therefore greatly disappointed, when, after a moment’s +quiet consideration, he carelessly remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“Very good! very good! The one point you make is excellent and may prove +of use to us. We had reached the same conclusion, but by another road. You ask, +‘Who blew out the candle?’ We, ‘Who tied the pistol to Mrs. +Jeffrey’s arm?’ It could not have been tied by herself. Who was her +accessory then? Ah, you didn’t think of that.” +</p> + +<p> +I flushed as if a pail of hot water had been dashed suddenly over me. He was +right. The conclusion he spoke of had failed to strike me. Why? It was a +perfectly obvious one, as obvious as that the candle had been blown out by +another breath than hers; yet, absorbed in my own train of thought, I had +completely overlooked it. The coroner observing my embarrassment, smiled, and +my humiliation was complete or would have been had Durbin been there, but +fortunately he was not. +</p> + +<p> +“I am a fool,” I cried. “I thought I had discovered +something. I might have known that there were keener minds than mine in this +office—” +</p> + +<p> +“Easy! easy!” was the good-natured interruption. “You have +done well. If I did not think so, I would not keep you here a minute. As it is, +I am disposed to let you see that in a case like this, one man must not expect +to monopolize all the honors. This matter of the bow of ribbon would strike any +old and experienced official. I only wonder that we have not seen it openly +discussed in the papers.” +</p> + +<p> +Taking a box from his desk, he opened it and held it out toward me. A coil of +white ribbon surmounted by a crisp and dainty bow met my eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“You recognize it?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed I did. +</p> + +<p> +“It was cut from her wrist by my deputy. Miss Tuttle wished him to untie +it, but he preferred to leave the bow intact. Now lift it out. Careful, man, +don’t soil it; you will see why in a minute.” +</p> + +<p> +As I held the ribbon up, he pointed to some spots on its fresh white surface. +“Do you see those?” he asked. “Those are dust-marks, and they +were made as truly by some one’s fingers, as the impressions you noted on +the mantel-shelf in the upper chamber. This pistol was tied to her wrist after +the deed; possibly by that same hand.” +</p> + +<p> +It was my own conclusion but it did not sound as welcome to me from his lips as +I had expected. Either my nature is narrow, or my inordinate jealousy lays me +open to the most astonishing inconsistencies; for no sooner had he spoken these +words than I experienced a sudden revulsion against my own theory and the +suspicions which it threw upon the man whom an hour before I was eager to +proclaim a criminal. +</p> + +<p> +But Coroner Z. gave me no chance for making such a fool of myself. Rescuing the +ribbon from my hands, which no doubt were running a little too freely over its +snowy surface, he smiled with the indulgence proper from such a man to a novice +like myself, and observed quite frankly: +</p> + +<p> +“You will consider these observations as confidential. You know how to +hold your tongue; that you have proved. Hold it then a little longer. The case +is not yet ripe. Mr. Jeffrey is a man of high standing, with a hitherto +unblemished reputation. It won’t do, my boy, to throw the doubt of so +hideous a crime upon so fine a gentleman without ample reason. That no such +mistake may be made and that he may have every opportunity for clearing +himself, I am going to have a confidential talk with him. Do you want to be +present?” +</p> + +<p> +I flushed again; but this time from extreme satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +“I am obliged for your confidence,” said I; then, with a burst of +courage born of his good nature, I inquired with due respect if my little +friend had answered his expectations. “Was she as clever as I +said?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Your little friend is a trump,” was his blunt reply. “With +what we have learned through her and now through you, we can approach Mr. +Jeffrey to some purpose. It appears that, before leaving the house on that +Tuesday morning, he had an interview with his wife which ought in some way to +account for this tragedy. Perhaps he will tell us about it, and perhaps he will +explain how he came to wander through the Moore house while his wife lay dying +below. At all events we will give him the opportunity to do so and, if +possible, to clear up mysteries which provoke the worst kind of conjecture. It +is time. The ideas advanced by the papers foster superstition; and superstition +is the devil. Go and tell my man out there that I am going to K Street. You may +say ‘we’ if you like,” he added with a humor more welcome to +me than any serious concession. +</p> + +<p> +Did I feel set up by this? Rather. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey was expecting us. This was evident from his first look, though the +attempt he made at surprise was instantaneous and very well feigned. Indeed, I +think he was in a constant state of apprehension during these days and that no +inroad of the police would have astonished him. But expectation does not +preclude dread; indeed it tends to foster it, and dread was in his heart. This +he had no power to conceal. +</p> + +<p> +“To what am I indebted for this second visit from you?” he asked of +Coroner Z., with an admirable presence of mind. “Are you not yet +satisfied with what we have been able to tell you of my poor wife’s +unhappy end?” +</p> + +<p> +“We are not,” was the plain response. “There are some things +you have not attempted to explain, Mr. Jeffrey. For instance, why you went to +the Moore house previous to your being called there by the death of your +wife.” +</p> + +<p> +It was a shot that told; an arrow which found its mark. Mr. Jeffrey flushed, +then turned pale, rallied and again lost himself in a maze of conflicting +emotions from which he only emerged to say: +</p> + +<p> +“How do you know that I was there? Have I said so; or do those old walls +babble in their sleep?” +</p> + +<p> +“Old walls have been known to do this,” was the grave reply. +“Whether they had anything to say in this case is at present quite +immaterial. That you were where I charge you with being is evident from your +own manner. May I then ask if you have anything to say about this visit. When a +person has died under such peculiar circumstances as Mrs. Jeffrey, everything +bearing upon the case is of interest to the coroner.” +</p> + +<p> +I was sorry he added that last sentence; sorry that he felt obliged to qualify +his action by anything savoring of apology; for the time spent in its utterance +afforded his agitated hearer an opportunity not only of collecting himself but +of preparing an answer for which he would not have been ready an instant +before. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Jeffrey’s death was a strange one,” her husband +admitted with tardy self-control. “I find myself as much at a loss to +understand it as you do, and am therefore quite ready to answer the question +you have so openly broached. Not that my answer has any bearing upon the point +you wish to make, but because it is your due and my pleasure. I did visit the +Moore house, as I certainly had every right to do. The property was my +wife’s, and it was for my interest to learn, if I could, the secret of +its many crimes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey looked quickly up. “You think that an odd thing for me to +do?” +</p> + +<p> +“At night. Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Night is the time for such work. I did not care to be seen pottering +around there in daylight.” +</p> + +<p> +“No? Yet it would have been so much easier. You would not have had to buy +candles or carry a pistol or—” +</p> + +<p> +“I did not carry a pistol. The only pistol carried there was the one with +which my demented wife chose to take her life. I do not understand this +allusion.” +</p> + +<p> +“It grew out of a misunderstanding of the situation, Mr. Jeffrey; excuse +me if I supposed you would be likely to provide yourself with some means of +defense in venturing alone upon the scene of so many mysterious deaths.” +</p> + +<p> +“I took no precaution.” +</p> + +<p> +“And needed none, I suppose.” +</p> + +<p> +“And needed none.” +</p> + +<p> +“When was this visit paid, Mr. Jeffrey? Before or after your wife pulled +the trigger which ended her life? You need not hesitate to answer.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not.” The elegant gentleman before us had acquired a certain +fierceness. “Why should I? Certainly, you don’t think that I was +there at the same time she was. It was not on the same night, even. So much the +walls should have told you and probably did, or my wife’s uncle, Mr. +David Moore. Was he not your informant?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; Mr. Moore has failed to call our attention to this fact. Did you +meet Mr. Moore during the course of your visit to a neighborhood over which he +seems to hold absolute sway?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not to my knowledge. But his house is directly opposite, and as he has +little to do but amuse himself with what he can see from his front window, I +concluded that he might have observed me going in.” +</p> + +<p> +“You entered by the front door, then?” +</p> + +<p> +“How else?” +</p> + +<p> +“And on what night?” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey made an effort. These questions were visibly harassing him. +</p> + +<p> +“The night before the one—the one which ended all my earthly +happiness,” he added in a low voice. +</p> + +<p> +Coroner Z. cast a glance at me. I remembered the lack of dust on the nest of +little tables from which the upper one had been drawn forward to hold the +candelabrum, and gently shook my head. The coroner’s eyebrows went up, +but none of his disbelief crept into his voice as he made this additional +statement. +</p> + +<p> +“The night on which you failed to return to your own house.” +</p> + +<p> +Instantly Mr. Jeffrey betrayed by a nervous action, which was quite +involuntary, that his outward calm was slowly giving way under a fire of +questions for which he had no ready reply. +</p> + +<p> +“It was odd, your not going home that night,” the coroner coldly +pursued. “The misunderstanding you had with your wife immediately after +breakfast must have been a very serious one; more serious than you have +hitherto acknowledged.” +</p> + +<p> +“I had rather not discuss the subject,” protested Mr. Jeffrey. Then +as if he suddenly recognized the official character of his interlocutor, he +hastily added: “Unless you positively request me to do so; in which case +I must.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid that I must insist upon it,” returned the other. +“You will find that it will be insisted upon at the inquest, and if you +do not wish to subject yourself to much unnecessary unpleasantness, you had +better make clear to us today the cause of that special quarrel which to all +intents and purposes led to your wife’s death.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will try to do so,” returned Mr. Jeffrey, rising and pacing the +room in his intense restlessness. “We did have some words; her conduct +the night before had not pleased me. I am naturally jealous, vilely jealous, +and I thought she was a little frivolous at the German ambassador’s ball. +But I had no idea she would take my sharp speeches so much to heart. I had no +idea that she would care so much or that I should care so much. A little +jealousy is certainly pardonable in a bridegroom, and if her mind had not +already been upset, she would have remembered how I loved her and hopefully +waited for a reconciliation.” +</p> + +<p> +“You did love your wife, then? It was you and not she who had a right to +be jealous? I have heard the contrary stated. It is a matter of public gossip +that you loved another woman previous to your acquaintance with Miss Moore; a +woman whom your wife regarded with sisterly affection and subsequently took +into her new home.” +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Tuttle?” Mr. Jeffrey stopped in his walk to fling out this +ejaculation. “I admire and respect Miss Tuttle,” he went on to +declare, “but I never loved her. Not as I did my wife,” he +finished, but with a certain hard accent, apparent enough to a sensitive ear. +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me; it is as difficult for me to put these questions as it is for +you to hear them. Were you and Miss Tuttle ever engaged?” +</p> + +<p> +I started. This was a question which half of Washington had been asking itself +for the last three months. +</p> + +<p> +Would Mr. Jeffrey answer it? or, remembering that these questions were rather +friendly than official, refuse to satisfy a curiosity which he might well +consider intrusive? The set aspect of his features promised little in the way +of information, and we were both surprised when a moment later he responded +with a grim emphasis hardly to be expected from one of his impulsive +temperament: +</p> + +<p> +“Unhappily, no. My attentions never went so far.” +</p> + +<p> +Instantly the coroner pounced on the one weak word which Mr. Jeffrey had let +fall. +</p> + +<p> +“Unhappily?” he repeated. “Why do you say, +<i>unhappily?</i>” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey flushed and seemed to come out of some dream. +</p> + +<p> +“Did I say unhappily?” he inquired. “Well, I repeat it; Miss +Tuttle would never have given me any cause for jealousy.” +</p> + +<p> +The coroner bowed and for the present dropped her name out of the conversation. +</p> + +<p> +“You speak again of the jealousy aroused in you by your wife’s +impetuosities. Was this increased or diminished by the tone of the few lines +she left behind her?” +</p> + +<p> +The response was long in coming. It was hard for this man to lie. The struggle +he made at it was pitiful. As I noted what it cost him, I began to have new and +curious thoughts concerning him and the whole matter under discussion. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall never overcome the remorse roused in me by those few +lines,” he finally rejoined. “She showed a consideration for +me—” +</p> + +<p> +“What!” +</p> + +<p> +The coroner’s exclamation showed all the surprise he felt. Mr. Jeffrey +tottered under it, then grew slowly pale as if only through our amazed looks he +had come to realize the charge of inconsistency to which he had laid himself +open. +</p> + +<p> +“I mean—” he endeavored to explain, “that Mrs. Jeffrey +showed an unexpected tenderness toward me by taking all the blame of our +misunderstanding upon herself. It was generous of her and will do much toward +making my memory of her a gentle one.” +</p> + +<p> +He was forgetting himself again. Indeed, his manner and attempted explanations +were full of contradictions. To emphasize this fact Coroner Z. exclaimed, +</p> + +<p> +“I should think so! She paid a heavy penalty for her professed lack of +love. You believe that her mind was unseated?” +</p> + +<p> +“Does not her action show it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Unseated by the mishap occurring at her marriage?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“You really think that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“By anything that passed between you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“May I ask you to tell us what passed between you on this point?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +He had uttered the monosyllable so often it seemed to come unconsciously from +his lips. But he recognized almost as soon as we did that it was not a natural +reply to the last question, and, making a gesture of apology, he added, with +the same monotony of tone which had characterized these replies: +</p> + +<p> +“She spoke of her strange guest’s unaccountable death more than +once, and whenever she did so, it was with an unnatural excitement and in an +unbalanced way. This was so noticeable to us all that the subject presently was +tabooed amongst us; but though she henceforth spared us all allusion to it, she +continued to talk about the house itself and of the previous deaths which had +occurred there till we were forced to forbid that topic also. She was never +really herself after crossing the threshold of this desolate house to be +married. The shadow which lurks within its walls fell at that instant upon her +life. May God have mercy—” +</p> + +<p> +The prayer remained unfinished. His head which had fallen on his breast sank +lower. +</p> + +<p> +He presented the aspect of one who is quite done with life, even its sorrows. +</p> + +<p> +But men in the position of Coroner Z. can not afford to be compassionate. +Everything the bereaved man said deepened the impression that he was acting a +part. To make sure that this was really so, the coroner, with just the +slightest touch of sarcasm, quietly observed: +</p> + +<p> +“And to ease your wife’s mind—the wife you were so deeply +angered with—you visited this house, and, at an hour which you should +have spent in reconciliation with her, went through its ancient rooms in the +hope—of what?” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey could not answer. The words which came from his lips were mere +ejaculations. +</p> + +<p> +“I was restless—mad—I found this adventure diverting. I had +no real purpose in mind.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not when you looked at the old picture?” +</p> + +<p> +“The old picture? What old picture?” +</p> + +<p> +“The old picture in the southwest chamber. You took a look at that, +didn’t you? Got up on a chair on purpose to do so?” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey winced. But he made a direct reply. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I gave a look at that old picture; got up, as you say, on a chair +to do so. Wasn’t that the freak of an idle man, wandering, he hardly +knows why, from room to room in an old and deserted house?” +</p> + +<p> +His tormentor did not answer. Probably his mind was on his next line of +inquiry. But Mr. Jeffrey did not take his silence with the calmness he had +shown prior to the last attack. As no word came from his unwelcome guest, he +paused in his rapid pacing and, casting aside with one impulsive gesture his +hitherto imperfectly held restraint, he cried out sharply: +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you ask me these questions in tones of such suspicion? Is it not +plain enough that my wife took her own life under a misapprehension of my state +of mind toward her, that you should feel it necessary to rake up these personal +matters, which, however interesting to the world at large, are of a painful +nature to me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Jeffrey,” retorted the other, with a sudden grave assumption +of dignity not without its effect in a case of such serious import, “we +do nothing without purpose. We ask these questions and show this interest +because the charge of suicide which has hitherto been made against your wife is +not entirely sustained by the facts. At least she was not alone when she took +her life. Some one was in the house with her.” +</p> + +<p> +It was startling to observe the effect of this declaration upon him. +</p> + +<p> +“Impossible!” he cried out in a protest as forcible as it was +agonized. “You are playing with my misery. She could have had no one +there; she would not. There is not a man living before whom she would have +fired that deadly shot; unless it was myself,—unless it was my own +wretched, miserable self.” +</p> + +<p> +The remorseful whisper in which those final words were uttered carried them to +my heart, which for some strange and unaccountable reason had been gradually +turning toward this man. But my less easily affected companion, seeing his +opportunity and possibly considering that it was this gentleman’s right +to know in what a doubtful light he stood before the law, remarked with as +light a touch of irony as was possible: +</p> + +<p> +“You should know better than we in whose presence she would choose to +die—if she did so choose. Also who would be likely to tie the pistol to +her wrist and blow out the candle when the dreadful deed was over.” +</p> + +<p> +The laugh which seemed to be the only means of violent expression remaining to +this miserable man was kept down by some amazing thought which seemed to +paralyze him. Without making any attempt to refute a suggestion that fell just +short of a personal accusation, he sank down in the first chair he came to and +became, as it were, lost in the vision of that ghastly ribbon-tying and the +solitary blowing out of the candle upon this scene of mournful death. Then with +a struggling sense of having heard something which called for answer, he rose +blindly to his feet and managed to let fall these words: +</p> + +<p> +“You are mistaken—no one was there, or if any one was—it was +not I. There is a man in this city who can prove it.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +But when Mr. Jeffrey was asked to give the name of this man, he showed +confusion and presently was obliged to admit that he could neither recall his +name nor remember anything about him, but that he was some one whom he knew +well, and who knew him well. He affirmed that the two had met and spoken near +Soldiers’ Home shortly after the sun went down, and that the man would be +sure to remember this meeting if we could only find him. +</p> + +<p> +As Soldiers’ Home was several miles from the Moore house and quite out of +the way of all his accustomed haunts, Coroner Z. asked him how he came to be +there. He replied that he had just come from Rock Creek Cemetery. That he had +been in a wretched state of mind all day, and possibly being influenced by what +he had heard of the yearly vigils Mr. Moore was in the habit of keeping there, +had taken a notion to stroll among the graves, in search of the rest and peace +of mind he had failed to find in his aimless walks about the city. At least, +that was the way he chose to account for the meeting he mentioned. Falling into +reverie again, he seemed to be trying to recall the name which at this moment +was of such importance to him. But it was without avail, as he presently +acknowledged. +</p> + +<p> +“I can not remember who it was. My brain is whirling, and I can recollect +nothing but that this man and myself left the cemetery together on the night +mentioned, just as the gate was being closed. As it closes at sundown, the hour +can be fixed to a minute. It was somewhere near seven, I believe; near enough, +I am sure, for it to have been impossible for me to be at the Moore house at +the time my unhappy wife is supposed to have taken her life. There is no doubt +about your believing this?” he demanded with sudden haughtiness, as, +rising to his feet, he confronted us in all the pride of his exceptionally +handsome person. +</p> + +<p> +“We wish to believe it,” assented the coroner, rising in his turn. +“That our belief may become certainty, will you let us know, the instant +you recall the name of the man you talked with at the cemetery gate? His +testimony, far more than any word of yours, will settle this question which +otherwise may prove a vexed one.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey’s hand went up to his head. Was he acting a part or did he +really forget just what it was for his own best welfare to remember? If he had +forgotten, it argued that he was in a state of greater disturbance on that +night than would naturally be occasioned by a mere lover’s quarrel with +his wife. +</p> + +<p> +Did the same thought strike my companion? I can not say; I can only give you +his next words. +</p> + +<p> +“You have said that your wife would not be likely to end her life in +presence of any one but yourself. Yet you must see that some one was with her. +How do you propose to reconcile your assertions with a fact so +undeniable?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can not reconcile them. It would madden me to try. If I thought any +one was with her at that moment—” +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey’s eyes fell; and a startling change passed over him. But +before either of us could make out just what this change betokened he recovered +his aspect of fixed melancholy and quietly remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“It is dreadful to think of her standing there alone, aiming a pistol at +her young, passionate heart; but it is worse to picture her doing this under +the gaze of unsympathizing eyes. I can not and will not so picture her. You +have been misled by appearances or what in police parlance is called a +clue.” +</p> + +<p> +Evidently he did not mean to admit the possibility of the pistol having been +fired by any other hand than her own. This the coroner noted. Bowing with the +respect he showed every man before a jury had decided upon his guilt, he turned +toward the door out of which I had already hurried. +</p> + +<p> +“We hope to hear from you in the morning,” he called back +significantly, as he stepped down the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey did not answer; he was having his first struggle with the new and +terrible prospect awaiting him at the approaching inquest. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="book02"></a>BOOK II<br /> +THE LAW AND ITS VICTIM</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap11"></a>XI.<br /> +DETAILS</h2> + +<p> +The days of my obscurity were over. Henceforth, I was regarded as a decided +factor in this case—a case which from this time on, assumed another +aspect both at headquarters and in the minds of people at large. The reporters, +whom we had hitherto managed to hold in check, now overflowed both the +coroner’s office and police headquarters, and articles appeared in all +the daily papers with just enough suggestion in them to fire the public mind +and make me, for one, anticipate an immediate word from Mr. Jeffrey calculated +to establish the alibi he had failed to make out on the day we talked with him. +But no such word came. His memory still played him false, and no alternative +was left but to pursue the official inquiry in the line suggested by the +interview just recounted. +</p> + +<p> +No proceeding in which I had ever been engaged interested me as did this +inquest. In the first place, the spectators were of a very different character +from the ordinary. As I wormed myself along to the seat accorded to such +witnesses as myself, I brushed by men of the very highest station and a few of +the lowest; and bent my head more than once in response to the inquiring gaze +of some fashionable lady who never before, I warrant, had found herself in such +a scene. By the time I reached my place all the others were seated and the +coroner rapped for order. +</p> + +<p> +I was first to take the stand. What I said has already been fully amplified in +the foregoing pages. Of course, my evidence was confined to facts, but some of +these facts were new to most of the persons there. It was evident that a +considerable effect was produced by them, not only on the spectators, but upon +the witnesses themselves. For instance, it was the first time that the marks on +the mantel-shelf had been heard of outside the major’s office, or the +story so told as to make it evident that Mrs. Jeffrey could not have been alone +in the house at the time of her death. +</p> + +<p> +A photograph had been taken of those marks, and my identification of this +photograph closed my testimony. +</p> + +<p> +As I returned to my seat I stole a look toward a certain corner where, with +face bent down upon his hand, Francis Jeffrey sat between Uncle David and the +heavily-veiled figure of Miss Tuttle. Had there dawned upon him as my testimony +was given any suspicion of the trick by which he had been proved responsible +for those marks? It was impossible to tell. From the way Miss Tuttle’s +head was turned toward him, one might judge him to be laboring under an emotion +of no ordinary character, though he sat like a statue and hardly seemed to +realize how many eyes were at that moment riveted upon his face. +</p> + +<p> +I was followed by other detectives who had been present at the time and who +corroborated my statement as to the appearance of this unhappy woman and the +way the pistol had been tied to her arm. Then the doctor who had acted under +the coroner was called. After a long and no doubt learned description of the +bullet wound which had ended the life of this unhappy lady,—a wound which +he insisted, with a marked display of learning, must have made that end +instantaneous or at least too immediate for her to move foot or hand after +it,—he was asked if the body showed any other mark of violence. +</p> + +<p> +To this he replied +</p> + +<p> +“There was a minute wound at the base of one of her fingers, the one +which is popularly called the wedding finger.” +</p> + +<p> +This statement made all the women present start with renewed interest; nor was +it altogether without point for the men, especially when the doctor went on to +say: +</p> + +<p> +“The hands were entirely without rings. As Mrs. Jeffrey had been married +with a ring, I noticed their absence.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was this wound which you characterize as minute a recent one?” +</p> + +<p> +“It had bled a little. It was an abrasion such as would be made if the +ring she usually wore there had been drawn off with a jerk. That was the +impression I received from its appearance. I do not state that it was so +made.” +</p> + +<p> +A little thrill which went over the audience at the picture this evoked +communicated itself to Miss Tuttle, who trembled violently. It even produced a +slight display of emotion in Mr. Jeffrey, whose hand shook where he pressed it +against his forehead. But neither uttered a sound, nor looked up when the next +witness was summoned. +</p> + +<p> +This witness proved to be Loretta, who, on hearing her name called, evinced +great reluctance to come forward. But after two or three words uttered in her +ear by the friendly Jinny, who had been given a seat next her, she stepped into +the place assigned her with a suddenly assumed air of great boldness, which sat +upon her with scant grace. She had need of all the boldness at her command, for +the eyes of all in the room were fixed on her, with the exception of the two +persons most interested in her testimony. Scrutiny of any kind did not appear +to be acceptable to her, if one could read the trepidation visible in the +short, quick upheavals of the broad collar which covered her uneasy breast. Was +this shrinking on her part due to natural timidity, or had she failings to avow +which, while not vitiating her testimony, would certainly cause her shame in +the presence of so many men and women? I was not able to decide this question +immediately; for after the coroner had elicited her name and the position she +held in Mr. Jeffrey’s household he asked whether her duties took her into +Mrs. Jeffrey’s room; upon her replying that they did, he further inquired +if she knew Mrs. Jeffrey’s rings, and could say whether they were all to +be found on that lady’s toilet-table after the police came in with news +of her death. The answer was decisive. They were all there, her rings and all +the other ornaments she was in the daily habit of wearing, with the exception +of her watch. That was not there. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you take up those rings?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you see any one else take them up?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir; not till the officer did so.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, Loretta, sit down again till we hear what Durbin has to say +about these rings.” +</p> + +<p> +And then the man I hated came forward, and though I shrank from acknowledging +it even to myself, I could but observe how strong and quiet and self-possessed +he seemed and how decisive was his testimony. But it was equally brief. He had +taken up the rings and he had looked at them; and on one, the wedding-ring, he +had detected a slight stain of blood. He had called Mr. Jeffrey’s +attention to it, but that gentleman had made no comment. This remark had the +effect of concentrating general attention upon Mr. Jeffrey. But he seemed quite +oblivious of it; his attitude remained unchanged, and only from the quick +stretching out and withdrawal of Miss Tuttle’s hand could it be seen that +anything had been said calculated to touch or arouse this man. The coroner cast +an uneasy glance in his direction; then he motioned Durbin aside and recalled +Loretta. +</p> + +<p> +And now I began to be sorry for the girl. It is hard to have one’s +weaknesses exposed, especially if one is more foolish than wicked. But there +was no way of letting this girl off without sacrificing certain necessary +points, and the coroner went relentlessly to work. +</p> + +<p> +“How long have you been in this house?” +</p> + +<p> +“Three weeks. Ever since Mrs. Jeffrey’s wedding day, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Were you there when she first came as a bride from the Moore +house?” +</p> + +<p> +“I was, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“And saw her then for the first time?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“How did she look and act that first day?” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought her the gayest bride I had ever seen, then I thought her the +saddest, and then I did not know what to think. She was so merry one minute and +so frightened the next, so full of talk when she came running up the steps and +so struck with silence the minute she got into the parlor, that I set her down +as a queer one till some one whispered in my ear that she was suffering from a +dreadful shock; that ill-luck had attended her marriage and much more about +what had happened from time to time at the Moore house.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you believed what was told you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Believed?” +</p> + +<p> +“Believed it well enough to keep a watch on your young mistress to see if +she were happy or not?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, sir!” +</p> + +<p> +“It was but natural,” the coroner suavely observed. “Every +one felt interested in this marriage. You watched her of course. Now what was +the result? Did you consider her well and happy?” +</p> + +<p> +The girl’s voice sank and she cast a glance at her master which he did +not lift his head to meet. +</p> + +<p> +“I did not think her happy. She laughed and sang and was always in and +out of the rooms like a butterfly, but she did not wear a happy look, except +now and then when she was seated with Mr. Jeffrey alone. Then I have seen her +flush in a way to make the heart ache; it was such a contrast, sir, to other +times when she was by herself or—” +</p> + +<p> +“Or what?” +</p> + +<p> +“Or just with her sister, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +The defiance with which this was said added point to what otherwise might have +been an unimportant admission. Those who had already scrutinized Miss Tuttle +with the curiosity of an ill-defined suspicion now scrutinized her with a more +palpable one, and those who had hitherto seen nothing in this heavily-veiled +woman but the bereaved sister of an irresponsible suicide allowed their looks +to dwell piercingly on that concealing veil, as if they would be glad to +penetrate its folds and read in those beautiful features the meaning of an +allusion uttered with such a sting in the tone. +</p> + +<p> +“You refer to Miss Tuttle?” observed the coroner. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Jeffrey’s sister? Yes, sir.” The menace was gone from +the voice now, but no one could forget that it had been there. +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Tuttle lived in the house with her sister, did she not?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir; till that sister died and was buried; then she went +away.” +</p> + +<p> +The coroner did not pursue this topic, preferring to return to the former one. +</p> + +<p> +“So you say that Mrs. Jeffrey showed uneasiness ever since her wedding +day. Can you give me any instance of this; mention, I mean, any conversations +overheard by you which would show us just what you mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t like to repeat things I hear. But if you say that I must, +I can remember once passing Mr. and Mrs. Jeffrey in the hall, just as he was +saying: ‘You take it too much to heart! I expected a happy honeymoon. +Somehow, we have failed—’ That was all I heard, sir. But what made +me remember his words was that she was dressed for some afternoon reception and +looked so charming and so—and so, as if she ought to be happier.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just so. Now, when was this? How long before her death?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, a week or so. It was very soon after the wedding day.” +</p> + +<p> +“And did matters seem to improve after that? Did she appear any better +satisfied or more composed?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think she endeavored to. But there was something on her mind, +something which she tried to laugh off; something that annoyed Mr. Jeffrey and +worried Miss Tuttle; something which caused a cloud in the house, for all the +dances and dinners and goings and comings. I am sorry to speak of it, but it +was so.” +</p> + +<p> +“Something that showed an unsettled mind?” +</p> + +<p> +“Almost. The glitter in her eye was not natural; neither was the way she +looked at her sister and sometimes at her husband.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did she talk much about the catastrophe which attended her wedding? Did +her mind seem to run on that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Incessantly at first; but afterward not so much. I think Mr. Jeffrey +frowned on that subject.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did he ever frown on her?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir—not—not when they were alone or with no one by but +me. He seemed to love her then very much.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean by that, Loretta; that he lost patience with her when +other people were present—Miss Tuttle, for instance?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir. He used to change very much when—when—when Miss +Tuttle came into the room.” +</p> + +<p> +“Change toward his wife?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“How?” +</p> + +<p> +“He grew more distant, much more distant; got up quite fretfully from his +seat, if he were sitting beside her, and took up some book or paper.” +</p> + +<p> +“And Miss Tuttle?” +</p> + +<p> +“She never seemed to notice but—” +</p> + +<p> +“But—?” +</p> + +<p> +“She did not come in very often after this had happened once or twice; I +mean into the room upstairs where they used to sit.” +</p> + +<p> +“Loretta, I regret to put this question, but after your replies I owe it +to the jury, if not to the parties themselves, to make Miss Tuttle’s +position in this household thoroughly understood. Do you think she was a +welcome visitor in this house?” +</p> + +<p> +The girl pursed up her lips, glanced at the lady and gentleman whose feelings +she was supposed to pass comment on, and seemed to lose heart. Then, as they +failed to respond to her look of appeal, she strove to get the better of her +sense of shame and, with a somewhat injured air, replied: +</p> + +<p> +“I can only repeat what I once heard said about this by Mr. Jeffrey +himself. Miss Tuttle had just left the diningroom and Mrs. Jeffrey was standing +in one of her black moods, with her hand on the top of her chair, ready to go +but forgetting to do so. I was there, but neither of them noticed me; he was +staring at her, and she was looking down. Neither seemed at ease. Suddenly he +spoke and asked, ‘Why must Cora remain with us?’ She started and +her look grew strange and frightened. ‘Because I want her to,’ she +cried. ‘I can not live without Cora.”’ +</p> + +<p> +These words, so different from what we were expecting, caused a sensation in +the room and consequently a stir. As the noise of shifting feet and moving +heads began to be heard in all directions, Miss Tuttle’s head drooped a +little, but Francis Jeffrey did not betray any sign of feeling or even of +attention. The coroner, embarrassed, perhaps, by this exhibition of silent +misery so near him, hesitated a little before he put his next question. +Loretta, on the contrary, had gathered courage with every word she spoke and +now looked ready for anything. +</p> + +<p> +“It was Mrs. Jeffrey, then, who clung most determinedly to her +sister?” the coroner finally suggested. +</p> + +<p> +“I have told you what she said.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet these sisters spent but little time together?” +</p> + +<p> +“Very little; as little as two persons could who lived together in one +house.” +</p> + +<p> +This statement, which seemed such a contradiction to her former one, increased +the interest; and much disappointment was covertly shown when the coroner +veered off from this topic and brusquely inquired “Did you ever know Mr. +and Mrs. Jeffrey to have any open rupture?” +</p> + +<p> +The answer was a decided one. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. On Tuesday morning preceding her death they had a long and angry +talk in their own room, after which Mrs. Jeffrey made no further effort to +conceal her wretchedness. Indeed, one may say she began to die from that +hour.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Jeffrey’s death had occurred on Wednesday evening. +</p> + +<p> +“Let us hear what you have to say about this quarrel and what happened +after it.” +</p> + +<p> +The girl, with a renewed flush, cast a deprecatory look at the mass of faces +before her, and, meeting on all sides but one look of intense and growing +interest, drew up her neat figure with a relieved air and began a story which I +will proceed to transcribe for you in the fewest possible words. +</p> + +<p> +Tuesday morning’s breakfast had been a silent one. There had been a ball +the night before at some great place on Massachusetts Avenue; but no one spoke +of it. Miss Tuttle made some remark about a friend she had met there, but as no +one listened to her, she soon stopped and in a little while left the table. Mr. +and Mrs. Jeffrey sat on, but neither said anything. Finally Mr. Jeffrey rose +and, speaking in a voice hardly recognizable, remarked that he had something to +say to her, and led the way to their room. Mrs. Jeffrey looked frightened as +she followed him; so frightened that it was evident that something very serious +had occurred or was about to occur between them. As nothing of this kind had +ever happened before, Loretta could not help waiting about till Mr. Jeffrey +reappeared; and when he did so and she saw no signs of relief in his face or +manner, she watched, with the silly interest of a girl who had nothing else to +occupy her mind, to see if he would leave the house in such a mood, and without +making peace with his young bride. To her surprise, he did not go out at the +usual time, but went to Miss Tuttle’s room, where for a full half-hour he +remained closeted with his sister-in-law, talking in excited and unnatural +tones. Then he went back for a few minutes to where he had left his wife, in +her own boudoir. But he could not have had much to say to her this time, for he +presently came out again and ran hastily downstairs and out, almost without +stopping to catch up his hat. +</p> + +<p> +As it was Mary’s business, and not the witness’, to make Mrs. +Jeffrey’s bed in the morning, Loretta could think of no excuse for +approaching her mistress’ room at this moment; but later, when letters +came, followed by various messages and some visitors, she went more than a +dozen times to Mrs. Jeffrey’s door. She was not admitted, nor were her +appeals answered, except by a sharp “Go away!” +</p> + +<p> +Nor was Miss Tuttle received any better, though she tried more than once to see +her sister, especially as night came on and the hour approached for Mr. +Jeffrey’s return. Mrs. Jeffrey was simply determined to remain alone; and +when dinner time arrived, and no Mr. Jeffrey, she could be induced to open her +door only wide enough to take in the cup of tea which Miss Tuttle insisted upon +sending her. +</p> + +<p> +The witness here confessed that she had been very much excited by these unusual +proceedings and by the effect which they seemed to have on the lady just +mentioned; so she was ready to notice that Mrs. Jeffrey’s hand shook like +that of an old and palsied woman when she reached out for the tray. +</p> + +<p> +Gladly would Loretta have caught one glimpse of her face, but it was hidden by +the door; nor did Mrs. Jeffrey answer a single one of her questions. She simply +closed her door and kept it so till toward midnight, when Miss Tuttle, coming +into the hall, ordered the house to be closed for the night. Then the long-shut +door softly swung open, but before any one could reach it, it was again pulled +to and locked. +</p> + +<p> +The next day brought no relief. Miss Tuttle, who had changed greatly during +this unhappy day and night, succeeded no better than before in getting access +to her sister, nor could Loretta gain the least word from her mistress till +toward the latter part of the afternoon, when that lady, ringing her bell, gave +her first order. +</p> + +<p> +“A substantial dinner,” she cried; and when Loretta, greatly +relieved, brought up the required meal she was astonished to find the door open +and herself bidden to enter. The sight which met her eyes staggered her. From +one end of the room to the other were signs of great nervous unrest and of +terrible suffering. The chairs were pushed into corners as if the wretched +bride had tramped the floor in an agony of excitement. Curtains were torn and +the piano-cover was hanging half on and half off the open upright, as if she +had clutched at it to keep herself from falling. On the floor beneath lay +several pieces of broken china,—vases of whose value Mrs. Jeffrey had +often spoken, but which, jerked off with the cover, had been left where they +fell; while immediately in front of the fireplace lay one of the rugs tossed +into a heap, as if she had rolled in it on the floor or used it to smother her +cries of pain or anger. +</p> + +<p> +So much for the state in which the witness found the boudoir. The adjoining +bed-room was not in much better case, though it was evident that the bed itself +had not been lain in since it was made up the day before at breakfast time. By +this token Mrs. Jeffrey had not slept the night before, or if she had laid her +head anywhere it had been on the rug already spoken of. +</p> + +<p> +These signs of extreme mental suffering, so much more extreme than any Loretta +had ever before witnessed, frightened her so that the tray shook in her hand as +she set it down on the table among the countless objects Mrs. Jeffrey always +had about her. The noise seemed to startle her mistress, who had walked to the +window after opening the door, for she wheeled impetuously about and Loretta +saw her face. It was as if a blight had passed over it. Once gay and animated +beyond the power of any one to describe, it had become in twenty-four hours a +ghost’s face, with the glare of some awful resolve on it. Or so it would +appear from the way Loretta described it. But such girls do not always see +correctly, and perhaps all that can be safely stated is that Mrs. Jeffrey was +unnaturally pale and had lost her butterfly-like way of incessant movement. +</p> + +<p> +Loretta, who was evidently accustomed to seeing her mistress arrayed in +brilliant colors and much begemmed, laid great stress on the fact that, though +it was on the verge of evening and she was evidently going out, she was dressed +in black cloth and without even a diamond or a flower to relieve its severe +simplicity. Her hair, too, which was always her pride, was piled in a careless +mass upon her head as if she had tried to arrange it herself and had forgotten +what she was doing while her fingers were but half through their work. There +was a cloak lying on a chair near which she was standing, and she held a hat in +her hand; but Loretta saw no gloves. As the maid’s glance and that of her +mistress crossed, Mrs. Jeffrey spoke, and the effort she made in doing so +naturally frightened the girl still more. “I am going out,” were +her words. “I may not be home till late—What are you looking +at?” +</p> + +<p> +Loretta declared that the words took her by surprise and that she did not know +what to say, but managed to cover up her embarrassment by intimating that if +her mistress would let her touch up her hair a bit she would make her look more +natural. +</p> + +<p> +At this suggestion, Mrs. Jeffrey cast a glance in the glass and impetuously +declared, “It doesn’t matter.” But she seemed to think better +of it the next minute; for, throwing herself in a chair, she bade the girl to +bring a comb, and sat quiet enough, though evidently in a great tremor of haste +and impatience, while Loretta combed her hair and put it up in the old way. +</p> + +<p> +But the old way was not as becoming as usual, and Loretta was wondering if she +ought to call in Miss Tuttle, when Mrs. Jeffrey jumped to her feet and went +over to the table and began to eat with the feverish haste of one who forces +himself to take food in spite of hurry and distaste. +</p> + +<p> +This was the moment for Loretta to leave the room; but she did not know how to +do so. She felt herself fixed to the spot and stood watching Mrs. Jeffrey till +that lady, suddenly becoming conscious of the girl’s presence, turned, +and in the midst of the moans which broke unconsciously from her lips, said +with a pitiable effort at her old manner: +</p> + +<p> +“Go away, Loretta; I am ill; have been ill for two days. I don’t +like people to look at me like that!” Then, as the girl shrank back, +added in a breaking voice: “When Mr. Jeffrey comes home—” and +said no more for several minutes, during which she clutched her throat with +both hands and struggled with herself till she got her voice back and found +herself able to repeat: “When Mr. Jeffrey comes,—if he does +come,—tell him that I was right about the way that novel ended. Remember +that you are to say to him the moment you see him that I was right about the +novel, and that he is to look and see if it did not end as I said it would. And +Loretta—” here she rose and approached the speaker with a sweet, +appealing look which brought tears to the impressionable girl’s eyes, +“don’t go gossiping about me downstairs. I sha’n’t be +sick long. I am going to be better soon, very soon. By the time you see me here +again I shall be quite like my old self. Forget how—how”—and +Loretta said she seemed to have difficulty in finding the right word +here—“how childish I have been.” +</p> + +<p> +Of course Loretta promised, but she is not sure that she would have had the +courage to keep all this to herself if she had not heard Mrs. Jeffrey stop in +Miss Tuttle’s room on her way out. That relieved her, and enabled her to +go downstairs to her own supper with more appetite than she had thought ever to +have again. Alas! it was the last good meal she was able to eat for days. In +three hours afterward a man came from the station house with the news of Mrs. +Jeffrey’s suicide in the horrible old house in which she had been married +only two weeks before. +</p> + +<p> +As this had been a continuous narrative and concisely told, the coroner had not +interrupted her. When at this point a little gasp escaped Miss Tuttle and a +groan broke from Francis Jeffrey’s hitherto sealed lips, the feelings of +the whole assemblage seemed to find utterance. A young wife’s misery +culminating in death on the very spot where she had been so lately married! +What could be more thrilling, or appeal more closely to the general heart of +humanity? But the cause of that misery! This was what every one present was +eager to have explained. This is what we now expected the coroner to bring out. +But instead of continuing on the line he had opened up, he proceeded to ask: +</p> + +<p> +“Where were you when this officer brought the news you mention?” +</p> + +<p> +“In the hall, sir. I opened the door for him.” +</p> + +<p> +“And to whom did he first mention his errand?” +</p> + +<p> +“To Miss Tuttle. She had come in just before him and was standing at the +foot of the stairs.” +</p> + +<p> +“What! Was Miss Tuttle out that evening?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; she went out very soon after Mrs. Jeffrey left. When she came in +she said that she had been around the block, but she must have gone around it +more than once, for she was absent two hours.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you let her in?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“And she said she had been around the block?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir” +</p> + +<p> +“Did she say anything else?” +</p> + +<p> +“She asked if Mr. Jeffrey had come in” +</p> + +<p> +“Anything else?” +</p> + +<p> +“Then if Mrs. Jeffrey had returned.” +</p> + +<p> +“To both of which questions you answered—” +</p> + +<p> +“A plain ‘No.’” +</p> + +<p> +“Now tell us about the officer.” +</p> + +<p> +“He rang the bell almost immediately after she did. Thinking she would +want to slip upstairs before I admitted any one, I waited a minute for her to +go, but she did not do so, and when the officer stepped in she—” +</p> + +<p> +“Well!” +</p> + +<p> +“She shrieked.” +</p> + +<p> +“What! before he spoke?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just at sight of him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did he wear his badge in plain view?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, on his breast.” +</p> + +<p> +“So that you knew him to be a police officer?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“And Miss Tuttle shrieked at seeing a police officer?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and sprang forward.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did she say anything?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not then.” +</p> + +<p> +“What did she do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Waited for him to speak.” +</p> + +<p> +“Which he did?” +</p> + +<p> +“At once, and very brutally. He asked if she was Mrs. Jeffrey’s +sister, and when she nodded and gasped ‘Yes,’ he blurted out that +Mrs. Jeffrey was dead; that he had just come from the old house in Waverley +Avenue, where she had just been found.” +</p> + +<p> +“And Miss Tuttle?” +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t know what to say; just hid her face. She was leaning +against the newel-post, so it was easy for her to do so. I remember that the +man stared at her for taking it so quietly and asking no questions.” +</p> + +<p> +“And did she speak at all?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, afterwards. Her face was wrapped in the folds of her cloak, but +I heard her whisper, as if to herself: ‘No! no! That old hearth is not a +lodestone. She can not have fallen there.’ And then she looked up quite +wildly and cried: ‘There is something more! Something which you have not +told me.’ ‘She shot herself, if that’s what you mean.’ +Miss Tuttle’s arms went straight up over her head. It was awful to see +her. ‘Shot herself?’ she gasped. ‘Oh, Veronica, +Veronica!’ ‘With a pistol,’ he went on—I suppose he was +going to say, ‘tied to her wrist,’ but he never got it out, for +Miss Tuttle, at the word ‘pistol’ clapped her hands to her ears and +for a moment looked quite distracted, so that he thought better of worrying her +any more and only demanded to know if Mr. Jeffrey kept any such weapon. Miss +Tuttle’s face grew very strange at this. ‘Mr. Jeffrey! was he +there?’ she asked. The man looked surprised. ‘They are searching +for Mr. Jeffrey,’ he replied. ‘Isn’t he here?’ +‘No,’ came both from her lips and mine. The man acted very +impertinently. ‘You haven’t told me whether a pistol was kept here +or not,’ said he. Miss Tuttle tried to compose herself, but I saw that I +should have to speak if any one did, so I told him that Mr. Jeffrey did have a +pistol, which he kept in one of his bureau drawers. But when the officer wanted +Miss Tuttle to go up and see if it was there, she shook her head and made for +the front door, saying that she must be taken directly to her sister.” +</p> + +<p> +“And did no one go up? Was no attempt made to see if the pistol was or +was not in the drawer?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; the officer went up with me. I pointed out the place where it was +kept, and he rummaged all through it, but found no pistol. I didn’t +expect him to—” Here the witness paused and bit her lip, adding +confusedly: “Mrs. Jeffrey had taken it, you see.” +</p> + +<p> +The jurors, who sat very much in the shadow, had up to this point attracted but +little attention. But now they began to make their presence felt, perhaps +because the break in the witness’ words had been accompanied by a sly +look at Jinny. Possibly warned by this that something lay back of this hitherto +timid witness’ sudden volubility, one of them now spoke up. +</p> + +<p> +“In what room did you say this pistol was kept?” +</p> + +<p> +“In Mr. and Mrs. Jeffrey’s bed-room, sir; the room opening out of +the sitting-room where Mrs. Jeffrey had kept herself shut up all day.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does this bed-room of which you speak communicate with the hall as well +as with the sitting room?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir; it is the defect of the house. Mr. and Mrs. Jeffrey often spoke +of it as a great annoyance. You had to pass through the little boudoir in order +to reach it.” +</p> + +<p> +The juryman sank back, evidently satisfied with her replies, but we who marked +the visible excitement with which the witness had answered this seemingly +unimportant question, wondered what special interest surrounded that room and +the pistol to warrant the heightened color with which the girl answered this +new interlocutor. We were not destined to know at this time, for the coroner, +when he spoke again, pursued a different subject. +</p> + +<p> +“How long was this before Mr. Jeffrey came in.” +</p> + +<p> +“Only a few minutes. I was terribly frightened at being left there alone +and was on my way to ask one of the other girls to come up and stay with me, +when I heard his key in the lock and came back. He had entered the house and +was standing near the door talking to an officer, who had evidently come in +with him. It was a different officer from the one who had gone away with Miss +Tuttle. Mr. Jeffrey was saying, ‘What’s that? My wife hurt!’ +‘Dead, sir!’ blurted out the man. I had expected to see Mr. Jeffrey +terribly shocked, but not in so awful a way. It really frightened me to see him +and I turned to run, but found that I couldn’t and that I had to stand +still and look whether I wanted to or not. Yet he didn’t say a word or +ask a question.” +</p> + +<p> +“What did he do, Loretta?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can not say; he was on his knees and was white—Oh, how white! +Yet he looked up when the man described how and where Mrs. Jeffrey, had been +found and even turned toward me when I said something about his wife having +left a message for him when she went out. This message, which I almost +hesitated to give after the awful news of her death, was about the ending of +some story, as you remember, and it seemed heartless to speak of it at a moment +like this, but as she had told me to, I didn’t dare to disobey her. So, +with the man listening to my every word, and Mr. Jeffrey looking as if he would +fall to the ground before I could finish, I repeated her words to him and was +surprised enough when he suddenly started upright and went flying upstairs. But +I was more surprised yet when, at the top of the first flight, he stopped and, +looking over the balustrade, asked in a very strange voice where Miss Tuttle +was. For he seemed just then to want her more than anything else in the world +and looked beaten and wild when I told him that she was already gone to +Waverley Avenue. But he recovered himself before the man could draw near enough +to see his face, and rushed into the sitting-room above and shut the door +behind him, leaving the officer and me standing down by the front door. As I +didn’t know what to say to a man like him, and he didn’t know what +to say to me, the time seemed long, but it couldn’t have been very many +minutes before Mr. Jeffrey came back with a slip of paper in his hand and a +very much relieved look on his face. ‘The deed was premeditated,’ +he cried. ‘My unfortunate wife has misunderstood my affection for +her.’ And from being a very much broken-down man, he stood up straight +and tall and prepared himself very quietly to go to the Moore house. That is +all I can tell about the way the news was received by him.” +</p> + +<p> +Were these details necessary? Many appeared to regard them as futile and +uncalled for. But Coroner Z. was never known to waste time on trivialities, and +if he called for these facts, those who knew him best felt certain that they +were meant as a preparation for Mr. Jeffrey’s testimony, which was now +called for. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap12"></a>XII.<br /> +THRUST AND PARRY</h2> + +<p> +When Francis Jeffrey’s hand fell from his forehead and he turned to face +the assembled people, an instinctive compassion arose in every breast at sight +of his face, which, if not open in its expression, was at least surcharged with +the deepest misery. In a flash the scene took on new meaning. Many remembered +that less than a month before his eye had been joyous and his figure a +conspicuous one among the favored sons of fortune. And now he stood in sight of +a crowd, drawn together mainly by curiosity, to explain as best he might why +this great happiness and hope had come to a sudden termination, and his bride +of a fortnight had sought death rather than continue to live under the same +roof with him. +</p> + +<p> +So much for what I saw on the faces about me. What my own face revealed I can +not say. I only know that I strove to preserve an impassive exterior. If I +secretly held this man’s misery to be a mask hiding untold passions and +the darkness of an unimaginable deed, it was not for me to disclose in this +presence either my suspicions or my fears. To me, as to those about me, he +apparently was a man who at some sacrifice to his pride, would, yet be able to +explain whatever seemed dubious in the mysterious case in which he had become +involved. +</p> + +<p> +His wife’s uncle, who to all appearance shared the general curiosity as +to the effect which this woeful tragedy had had upon his niece’s most +interested survivor, eyed with a certain cold interest, eminently in keeping +with his general character, the pallid forehead, sunken eyes and nervously +trembling lip of the once “handsome Jeffrey” till that gentleman, +rousing from his depression, manifested a realization of what was required of +him and turned with a bow toward the coroner. +</p> + +<p> +Miss Tuttle settled into a greater rigidity. I pass over the preliminary +examination of this important witness and proceed at once to the point when the +coroner, holding out the two or three lines of writing which Mr. Jeffrey had +declared to have been left him by his wife, asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Are these words in your wife’s handwriting?” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey replied hastily, and, with just a glance at the paper offered him: +</p> + +<p> +“They are.” +</p> + +<p> +The coroner pressed the slip upon him. +</p> + +<p> +“Look at them carefully,” he urged. “The handwriting shows +hurry and in places is scarcely legible. Are you ready to swear that these +words were written by your wife and by no other?” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey, with just a slight contraction of his brow expressive of +annoyance, did as he was bid. He scanned, or appeared to scan, the small scrap +of paper which he now took into his own hand. +</p> + +<p> +“It is my wife’s writing,” he impatiently declared. +“Written, as all can see, under great agitation of mind, but hers without +any doubt.” +</p> + +<p> +“Will you read aloud these words for our benefit?” asked the +coroner: +</p> + +<p> +It was a cruel request, causing an instinctive protest from the spectators. But +no protest disturbed Coroner Z. He had his reasons, no doubt, for thus trying +this witness, and when Coroner Z. had reason for anything it took more than the +displeasure of the crowd to deter him. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey, who had subdued whatever indignation he may have felt at this +unmistakable proof of the coroner’s intention to have his own way with +him whatever the cost to his sensitiveness or pride, obeyed the latter’s +command in firmer tones than I expected. +</p> + +<p> +The lines he was thus called upon to read may bear repetition: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“I find that I do not love you as I thought. I can not live knowing this +to be so. Pray God you may forgive me! +</p> + +<p class="right"> +V<small>ERONICA</small>.” +</p> + +<p> +As the last word fell with a little tremble from Mr. Jeffrey’s lips, the +coroner repeated: +</p> + +<p> +“You still think these words were addressed to you by your wife; that in +short they contain an explanation of her death?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do.” +</p> + +<p> +There was sharpness in the tone. Mr. Jeffrey was feeling the prick. There was +agitation in it, too; an agitation he was trying hard to keep down. +</p> + +<p> +“You have reason, then,” persisted the coroner, “for +accepting this peculiar explanation of your wife’s death; a death which, +in the judgment of most people, was of a nature to call for the strongest +provocation possible.” +</p> + +<p> +“My wife was not herself. My wife was in an over strained and suffering +condition. For one so nervously overwrought many allowances must be made. She +may have been conscious of not responding fully to my affection. That this +feeling was strong enough to induce her to take her life is a source of +unspeakable grief to me, but one for which you must find explanation, as I have +so often said, in the terrors caused by the dread event at the Moore house, +which recalled old tragedies and emphasized a most unhappy family +tradition.” +</p> + +<p> +The coroner paused a moment to let these words sink into the ears of the jury, +then plunged immediately into what might be called the offensive part of his +examination. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, if your wife’s death caused you such intense grief, did you +appear so relieved at receiving this by no means consoling explanation?” +</p> + +<p> +At an implication so unmistakably suggestive of suspicion Mr. Jeffrey showed +fire for the first time. +</p> + +<p> +“Whose word have you for that? A servant’s, so newly come into my +house that her very features are still strange to me. You must acknowledge that +a person of such marked inexperience can hardly be thought to know me or to +interpret rightly the feelings of my heart by any passing look she may have +surprised upon my face.” +</p> + +<p> +This attitude of defiance so suddenly assumed had an effect he little realized. +Miss Tuttle stirred for the first time behind her veil, and Uncle David, from +looking bored, became suddenly quite attentive. These two but mirrored the +feelings of the general crowd, and mine especially. +</p> + +<p> +“We do not depend on her judgment alone,” the coroner now remarked. +“The change in you was apparent to many others. This we can prove to the +jury if they require it.” +</p> + +<p> +But no man lifting a voice from that gravely attentive body, the coroner +proceeded to inquire if Mr. Jeffrey felt like volunteering any explanations on +this head. Receiving no answer from him either, he dropped the suggestive line +of inquiry and took up the consideration of facts. The first question he now +put was: +</p> + +<p> +“Where did you find the slip of paper containing these last words from +your wife?” +</p> + +<p> +“In a book I picked out of the book-shelf in our room upstairs. When +Loretta gave me my wife’s message I knew that I should find some word +from her in the novel we had just been reading. As we had been interested in +but one book since our marriage, there was no possibility of my making +any mistake as to which one she referred.” +</p> + +<p> +“Will you give us the name of this novel?” +</p> + +<p> +“C<small>OMPENSATION</small>.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you found this book called C<small>OMPENSATION</small> in your room +upstairs?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“On the book-shelf?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where does this book-shelf stand?” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey looked up as much as to say, “Why so many small questions +about so simple a matter?” but answered frankly enough: +</p> + +<p> +“At the right of the door leading into the bedroom.” +</p> + +<p> +“And at right angles to the door leading into the hall?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good. Now may I ask you to describe the cover of this book?” +</p> + +<p> +“The cover? I never noticed the cover. Why do you—. Excuse me, I +suppose you have your reasons for asking even these puerile and seemingly +unnecessary questions. The cover is a queer one I believe; partly red and +partly green; and that is all I know about it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is this the book?” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey glanced at the volume the coroner held up before him. +</p> + +<p> +“I believe so; it looks like it.” +</p> + +<p> +The book had a flaming cover, quite unmistakable in its character. +</p> + +<p> +“The title shows it to be the same,” remarked the coroner. +“Is this the only book with a cover of this kind in the house?” +</p> + +<p> +“The only one, I should say.” +</p> + +<p> +The coroner laid down the book. +</p> + +<p> +“Enough of this, then, for the present; only let the jury remember that +the cover of this book is peculiar and that it was kept on a shelf at the right +of the opening leading into the adjoining bed-room. And now, Mr. Jeffrey, we +must ask you to look at these rings; or, rather, at this one. You have seen it +before; it is the one you placed on Mrs. Jeffrey’s hand when you were +married to her a little over a fortnight ago. You recognize it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you also recognize this small mark of blood on it as having been here +when it was shown to you by the detective on your return from seeing her dead +body at the Moore house?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do; yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you account for that spot and the slight injury made to her +finger? Should you not say that the ring had been dragged from her hand?” +</p> + +<p> +“I should.” +</p> + +<p> +“By whom was it dragged? By you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“By herself, then?” +</p> + +<p> +“It would seem so.” +</p> + +<p> +“Much passion must have been in that act. Do you think that any ordinary +quarrel between husband and wife would account for the display of such fury? +Are we not right in supposing a deeper cause for the disturbance between you +than the slight one you offer in way of explanation?” +</p> + +<p> +An inaudible answer; then a sudden straightening of Francis Jeffrey’s +fine figure. And that was all. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Jeffrey, in the talk you had with your wife on Tuesday morning was +Miss Tuttle’s name introduced?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was mentioned; yes, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“With recrimination or any display of passion on the part of your +wife?” +</p> + +<p> +“You would not believe me if I said no,” was the unexpected +rejoinder. +</p> + +<p> +The coroner, taken aback by this direct attack from one who had hitherto borne +all his innuendoes with apparent patience, lost countenance for a moment, but, +remembering that in his official capacity he was more than a match for the +elegant gentleman, who under other circumstances would have found it only too +easy to put him to the blush, he observed with dignity: +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Jeffrey, you are on oath. We certainly have no reason for not +believing you.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey bowed. He was probably sorry for his momentary loss of +self-control, and gravely, but with eyes bent downward, answered with the +abrupt phrase: +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then, I will say no.” +</p> + +<p> +The coroner shifted his ground. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you make the same reply when I ask if the like forbearance was +shown toward your wife’s name in the conversation you had with Miss +Tuttle immediately afterward?” +</p> + +<p> +A halt in the eagerly looked-for reply; a hesitation, momentary indeed, but +pregnant with nameless suggestions, caused his answer, when it did come, to +lose some of the emphasis he manifestly wished to put into it. +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Tuttle was Mrs. Jeffrey’s half-sister. The bond between them +was strong. Would she—would I—be apt to speak of my young wife with +bitterness?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is not an answer to my question, Mr. Jeffrey. I must request a more +positive reply.” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Tuttle made a move. The strain on all present was so great we could but +notice it. He noticed it too, for his brows came together with a quick frown, +as he emphatically replied: +</p> + +<p> +“There were no recriminations uttered. Mrs. Jeffrey had displeased me and +I said so, but I did not forget that I was speaking of my wife and <i>to</i> +her sister.” +</p> + +<p> +As this was in the highest degree non-committal, the coroner could be excused +for persisting. +</p> + +<p> +“The conversation, then, was about your wife?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was.” +</p> + +<p> +“In criticism of her conduct?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“At the ambassador’s ball?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey was a poor hand at lying. That last “yes” came with +great effort. +</p> + +<p> +The coroner waited, possibly for the echo of this last “yes” to +cease; then he remarked with a coldness which lifted at once the veil from his +hitherto well disguised antagonism to this witness. +</p> + +<p> +“If you will recount to us anything which your wife said or did on that +evening which, in your mind, was worthy of all this coil, it might help us to +understand the situation.” +</p> + +<p> +But the witness made no attempt to do so, and while many of us were ready to +pardon him this show of delicacy, others felt that under the circumstances it +would have been better had he been more open. +</p> + +<p> +Among the latter was the coroner himself, who, from this moment, threw aside +all hesitation and urged forward his inquiries in a way to press the witness +closer and closer toward the net he was secretly holding out for him. First, he +obliged him to say that his conversation with Miss Tuttle had not tended to +smooth matters; that no reconciliation with his wife had followed it, and that +in the thirty-six hours which elapsed before he returned home again he had made +no attempt to soothe the feelings of one, who, according to his own story, he +considered hardly responsible for any extravagances in which she might have +indulged. Then when this inconsistency had been given time to sink into the +minds of the jury, Coroner Z. increased the effect produced by confronting +Jeffrey with witnesses who testified to the friendly, if not lover-like +relations which had existed between himself and Miss Tuttle prior to the +appearance of his wife upon the scene; closing with a question which brought +out the denial, by no means new, that an engagement had ever taken place +between him and Miss Tuttle and hence that a bond had been canceled by his +marriage with Miss Moore. +</p> + +<p> +But his manner and careful choice of words in making this denial did not +satisfy those present of his entire candor; especially as Miss Tuttle, for all +her apparent immobility, showed, by the violent locking of her hands, both her +anxiety and the suffering she was undergoing during this painful examination. +Was the suffering merely one of outraged delicacy? We felt justified in +doubting it, and looked forward, with cruel curiosity I admit, to the moment +when this renowned and universally admired beauty would be called on to throw +aside her veil and reveal the highly praised features which had been so openly +scorned for the sake of one whose chief claims to regard lay in her great +wealth. +</p> + +<p> +But this moment was as yet far distant. The coroner was a man of method, and +his plan was now to prove, as had been apparent to most of us from the first, +that the assumption of suicide on the part of Mrs. Jeffrey was open to doubt. +The communication suggesting such an end to her troubles was the strongest +proof Mr. Jeffrey could bring forward that her death had been the result of her +own act. Consequently it was now the coroner’s business to show that this +communication was either a forgery, or a substitution, and that if she left +some word in the book to which she had in so peculiar a manner directed his +attention, it was not necessarily the one bewailing her absence of love for him +and her consequent intention of seeking relief from her disappointment in +death. +</p> + +<p> +Some hint of what the coroner contemplated had already escaped him in the +persistent and seemingly inconsequent questions to which he had subjected this +witness in reference to these very matters. But the time had now come for a +more direct attack, and the interest rose correspondingly high, when the +coroner, lifting again to sight the scrap of paper containing the few piteous +lines so often quoted, asked of the now anxious and agitated witness, if he had +ever noticed any similarity between the handwriting of his wife and that of +Miss Tuttle. +</p> + +<p> +An indignant “No!” was about to pass his lips, when he suddenly +checked himself and said more mildly: “There may have been a similarity; +I hardly know, I have seen too little of Miss Tuttle’s hand to +judge.” +</p> + +<p> +This occasioned a diversion. Specimens of Miss Tuttle’s handwriting were +produced, which, after having been duly proved, were passed down to the jury +along with the communication professedly signed by Mrs. Jeffrey. The grunts of +astonishment which ensued as the knowing heads drew near over these several +papers caused Mr. Jeffrey to flush and finally to cry out with startling +emphasis: +</p> + +<p> +“I know that those words were written by my wife.” +</p> + +<p> +But when the coroner asked him his reasons for this conviction, he could, or +would not state them. +</p> + +<p> +“I have said,” he stolidly repeated; and that was all. +</p> + +<p> +The coroner made no comment, but when, after some further inquiry, which added +little to the general knowledge, he dismissed Mr. Jeffrey and recalled Loretta, +there was that in his tone which warned us that the really serious portion of +the day’s examination was about to begin. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap13"></a>XIII.<br /> +CHIEFLY THRUST</h2> + +<p> +The appearance of this witness had undergone a change since she last stood +before us. She was shame-faced still, but her manner showed resolve and a +feverish determination to face the situation which could but awaken in the +breasts of those who had Mr. Jeffrey’s honor and personal welfare at +heart a nameless dread; as if they already foresaw the dark shadow which minute +by minute was slowly sinking over a household which, up to a week ago, had been +the envy and admiration of all Washington society. +</p> + +<p> +The first answer she made revealed both the cause of her shame and the reason +of her firmness. It was in response to the question whether she, Loretta, had +seen Miss Tuttle before she went out on the walk she was said to have taken +immediately after Mrs. Jeffrey’s final departure from the house. +</p> + +<p> +Her words were these: +</p> + +<p> +“I did sir. I do not think Miss Tuttle knows it, but I saw her in Mrs. +Jeffrey’s room.” +</p> + +<p> +The emphatic tone, offering such a contrast to her former manner of speech, +might have drawn all eyes to the speaker had not the person she mentioned +offered a still more interesting subject to the general curiosity. As it was, +all glances flew to that silent and seemingly impassive figure upon which all +open suggestions and covert innuendo had hitherto fallen without creating more +than a pressure of her interlaced fingers. This direct attack, possibly the +most threatening she had received, appeared to produce no more effect upon her +than the others; less, perhaps, for no stir was visible in her now, and to some +eyes she hardly seemed to breathe. +</p> + +<p> +Curiosity, thus baffled, led the gaze on to Mr. Jeffrey, and even to Uncle +David; but the former had dropped his head again upon his hand, and the +other—well, there was little to observe in Mr. Moore at any time, save +the immense satisfaction he seemed to take in himself; so attention returned to +the witness, who, by this time, had entered upon a consecutive tale. +</p> + +<p> +As near as I can remember, these are the words with which she prefaced it: +</p> + +<p> +“I am not especially proud of what I did that night, but I was led into +it by degrees, and I am sure I beg the lady’s pardon.” And then she +went on to relate how, after she had seen Mrs. Jeffrey leave the house, she +went into her room with the intention of putting it to rights. As this was no +more than her duty, no fault could be found with her; but she owned that when +she had finished this task and removed all evidence of Mrs. Jeffrey’s +frenzied condition, she had no business to linger at the table turning over the +letters she found lying there. +</p> + +<p> +Here the coroner stopped her and made some inquiries in regard to these +letters, but as they seemed to be ordinary epistles from friends and quite +foreign to the investigation, he allowed her to proceed. +</p> + +<p> +Her cheeks were burning now, for she had found herself obliged to admit that +she had read enough of these letters to be sure that they had no reference to +the quarrel then pending between her mistress and Mr. Jeffrey. Her eyes fell +and she looked seriously distressed as she went on to say that she was as +conscious then as now of having no business with these papers; so conscious, +indeed, that when she heard Miss Tuttle’s step at the door, her one idea +was to hide herself. +</p> + +<p> +That she could stand and face that lady never so much as occurred to her. Her +own guilty consciousness made her cheeks too hot for her to wish to meet an eye +which had never rested on her any too kindly; so noticing how straight the +curtains fell over one of the windows on the opposite side of the room, she +dashed toward it and slipped in out of sight just as Miss Tuttle came in. This +window was one seldom used, owing to the fact that it overlooked an adjoining +wall, so she had no fear of Miss Tuttle’s approaching it. Consequently, +she could stand there quite at her ease, and, as the curtains in falling behind +her had not come quite together, she really could not help seeing just what +that lady did. +</p> + +<p> +Here the witness paused with every appearance of looking for some token of +disapprobation from the crowd. +</p> + +<p> +But she encountered nothing there but eager anxiety for her to proceed, so +without waiting for the coroner’s question, she added in so many words: +</p> + +<p> +“She went first to the book-shelves” +</p> + +<p> +We had expected it; but yet a general movement took place, and a few suppressed +exclamations could be heard. +</p> + +<p> +“And what did she do there?” +</p> + +<p> +“Took down a book, after looking carefully up and down the +shelves.” +</p> + +<p> +“What color of book?” +</p> + +<p> +“A green one with red figures on it. I could see the cover plainly as she +took it down.” +</p> + +<p> +“Like this one?” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly like that one.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what did she do with this book?” +</p> + +<p> +“Opened it, but not to read it. She was too quick in closing it for +that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did she take the book away?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; she put it back on the shelf.” +</p> + +<p> +“After opening and closing it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you see whether she put anything into the book?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can not swear that she did; but then her back was to me, and I could +not have seen it if she had.” +</p> + +<p> +The implied suggestion caused some excitement, but the coroner, frowning on +this, pressed the girl to continue, asking if Miss Tuttle left the room +immediately after turning from the book-shelves. Loretta replied no; that, on +the contrary, she stood for some minutes near them, gazing, in what seemed like +a great distress of mind, straight upon the floor; after which she moved in an +agitated way and with more than one anxious look behind her into the adjoining +room where she paused before a large bureau. As this bureau was devoted +entirely to Mr. Jeffrey’s use, Loretta experienced some surprise at +seeing his wife’s sister approach it in so stealthy a manner. +Consequently she was watching with all her might, when this young lady opened +the upper drawer and, with very evident emotion, thrust her hand into it. +</p> + +<p> +What she took out, or whether she took out anything, this spy upon her +movements could not say, for when Loretta heard the drawer being pushed back +into place she drew the curtains close, perceiving that Miss Tuttle would have +to face this window in coming back. However, she ventured upon one other peep +through them just as that lady was leaving the room, and remembered as if it +were yesterday how clay-white her face looked, and how she held her left hand +pressed close against the folds of her dress. It was but a few minutes after +this that Miss Tuttle left the house. +</p> + +<p> +As we all knew what was kept in that drawer, the conclusion was obvious. +Whatever excuse Miss Tuttle might give for going into her sister’s room +at this time, but one thought, one fear, or possibly one hope, could have taken +her to Mr. Jeffrey’s private drawer. She wished to see if his pistol was +still there, or if it had been taken away by her sister,—a revelation of +the extreme point to which her thoughts had flown at this crisis, and one which +effectually contradicted her former statement that she had been conscious of no +alarm in behalf of her sister and had seen her leave the house without dread or +suspicion of evil. +</p> + +<p> +The temerity which had made it possible to associate the name of such a man as +Francis Jeffrey with an outrageous crime having been thus in a measure +explained, the coroner recalled that gentleman and again thoroughly surprised +the gaping public. +</p> + +<p> +Had the witness accompanied his wife to the Moore house? +</p> + +<p> +“No” +</p> + +<p> +Had he met her there by any appointment he had made with her or which had been +made for them both by some third person? +</p> + +<p> +“No” +</p> + +<p> +Had he been at the Moore house on the night of the eleventh at any time +previous to the hour when he was brought there by the officials? +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +Would he glance at this impression of certain finger-tips which had been left +in the dust of the southwest chamber mantel? +</p> + +<p> +He had already noted them. +</p> + +<p> +Now would he place his left hand on the paper and see— +</p> + +<p> +“It is not necessary,” he burst forth, in great heat. “I own +to those marks. That is, I have no doubt they were made by my hand.” +Here, unconsciously, his eyes flew to the member thus referred to, as if +conscious that in some way it had proved a traitor to him; after which his gaze +traveled slowly my way, with an indescribable question in it which roused my +conscience and made the trick by which I had got the impression of his hand +seem less of a triumph than I had heretofore considered it. The next minute he +was answering the coroner under oath, very much as he had answered him in the +unofficial interview at which I had been present. +</p> + +<p> +“I acknowledge having been in the Moore house and even having been in its +southwest chamber, but not at the time supposed. It was on the previous +night.” He went on to relate how, being in a nervous condition and having +the key to this old dwelling in his pocket, he had amused himself by going +through its dilapidated interior. All of this made a doubtful impression which +was greatly emphasized when, in reply to the inquiry as to where he got the +light to see by, he admitted that he had come upon a candle in an upstairs room +and made use of that; though he could not remember what he had done with this +candle afterward, and looked dazed and quite at sea, till the coroner suggested +that he might have carried it into the closet of the room where his fingers had +left their impression in the dust of the mantel-shelf. Then he broke down like +a man from whom some prop is suddenly snatched and looked around for a seat. +This was given him, while a silence, the most dreadful I ever experienced, held +every one there in check. But he speedily rallied and, with the remark that he +was a little confused in regard to the incidents of that night, waited with a +wild look in his averted eye for the coroner’s next question. +</p> + +<p> +Unhappily for him it was in continuation of the same subject. Had he bought +candles or not at the grocer’s around the corner? Yes, he had. Before +visiting the house? Yes. Had he also bought matches? Yes. What kind? Common +safety matches. Had he noticed when he got home that the box he had just bought +was half empty? No. Nevertheless he had used many matches in going through this +old house, had he not? Possibly. To light his way upstairs, perhaps? It might +be. Had he not so used them? Yes. Why had he done so, if he had candles in his +pocket, which were so much easier to hold and so much more lasting than a +lighted match? Ah, he could not say; he did not know; his mind was confused. He +was awake when he should have been asleep. It was all a dream to him. +</p> + +<p> +The coroner became still more persistent. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you enter the library on your solitary visit to this old +house?” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe so.” +</p> + +<p> +“What did you do there?” +</p> + +<p> +“Pottered around. I don’t remember.” +</p> + +<p> +“What light did you use?” +</p> + +<p> +“A candle, I think.” +</p> + +<p> +“You must know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I had a candle; it was in a candelabrum.” +</p> + +<p> +“What candle and what candelabrum?” +</p> + +<p> +“The same I used upstairs, of course” +</p> + +<p> +“And you can not remember where you left this candle and candelabrum when +you finally quitted the house?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. I wasn’t thinking about candles.” +</p> + +<p> +“What were you thinking about?” +</p> + +<p> +“The rupture with my wife and the bad name of the house I was in.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! and this was on Tuesday night?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“How can you prove this to us?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can not.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you swear—” +</p> + +<p> +“I swear that it was Tuesday night, the night immediately preceding the +one when—when my wife’s death robbed me of all earthly +happiness.” +</p> + +<p> +It was feelingly uttered, and several faces lightened; but the coroner +repeating: “Is there no way you can prove this to our +satisfaction?” the shadow settled again, and on no head more perceptibly +than on that of the unfortunate witness. +</p> + +<p> +It was now late in the day and the atmosphere of the room had become stifling; +but no one seemed to be conscious of any discomfort, and a general gasp of +excitement passed through the room when the coroner, taking out a box from +under a pile of papers, disclosed to the general gaze the famous white ribbon +with its dainty bow, lying on top of the fatal pistol. +</p> + +<p> +That this special feature, the most interesting one of all connected with this +tragedy, should have been kept so long in reserve and brought out just at this +time, struck many of Mr. Jeffrey’s closest friends as unnecessarily +dramatic; but when the coroner, lifting out the ribbon, remarked tentatively, +“You know this ribbon?” we were more struck by the involuntary cry +of surprise which rose from some one in the crowd about the door, than by the +look with which Mr. Jeffrey eyed it and made the necessary reply. That cry had +something more than nervous excitement in it. Identifying the person who had +uttered it as a certain busy little woman well known in town, I sent an officer +to watch her; then recalled my attention to the point the coroner was +attempting to make. He had forced Mr. Jeffrey to recognize the ribbon as the +one which had fastened the pistol to his wife’s arm; now he asked +whether, in his opinion, a woman could tie such a bow to her own wrist, and +when in common justice Mr. Jeffrey was obliged to say no, waited a third time +before he put the general suspicion again into words: +</p> + +<p> +“Can not you, by some means or some witness, prove to us that it was on +Tuesday night and not on Wednesday you spent the hours you speak of on this +scene of your marriage and your wife’s death?” +</p> + +<p> +The hopelessness which more than once had marked Mr. Jeffrey’s features +since the beginning of this inquiry, reappeared with renewed force as this +suggestive question fell again upon his ears; and he was about to repeat his +plea of forgetfulness when the coroner’s attention was diverted by a +request made in his ear by one of the detectives. In another moment Mr. Jeffrey +had been waved aside and a new witness sworn in. +</p> + +<p> +You can imagine every one’s surprise, mine most of all, when this witness +proved to be Uncle David. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap14"></a>XIV.<br /> +“TALLMAN! LET US HAVE TALLMAN!”</h2> + +<p> +I do not know why the coroner had so long delayed to call this witness. In the +ordinary course of events his testimony should have preceded mine, but the +ordinary course of events had not been followed, and it was only at the request +of Mr. Moore himself that he was now allowed the privilege of appearing before +this coroner and jury. +</p> + +<p> +I speak of it as a privilege because he himself evidently regarded it as such. +Indeed, his whole attitude and bearing as he addressed himself to the coroner +showed that he was there to be looked at and that he secretly thought he was +very well worth this attention. Possibly some remembrance of the old days, in +which he had gone in and out before these people in a garb suggestive of +penury, made the moment when he could appear before them in a guise more +befitting his station one of incalculable importance to him. +</p> + +<p> +At all events, he confronted us all with an aspect which openly challenged +admiration. When, in answer to the coroner’s inquiries, it became his +duty to speak, he did so with a condescension which would have called up smiles +if the occasion had been one of less seriousness, and his connection with it as +unimportant as he would have it appear. +</p> + +<p> +What he said was in the way of confirming the last witness’ testimony as +to his having been at the Moore house on Tuesday evening. Mr. Moore, who was +very particular as to dates and days, admitted that the light which he had seen +in a certain window of his ancestral home on the evening when he summoned the +police was but the repetition of one he had detected there the evening before. +It was this repetition which alarmed him and caused him to break through all +his usual habits and leave his home at night to notify the police. +</p> + +<p> +“The old sneak!” thought I. “Why didn’t he tell us this +before?” And I allowed myself a fresh doubt of his candor which had +always seemed to me somewhat open to question. It is possible that the coroner +shared my opinion, or that he felt it incumbent upon him to get what evidence +he could from the sole person living within view of the house in which such +ghastly events had taken place. For, without betraying the least suspicion, and +yet with the quiet persistence for which men in his responsible position are +noted, he subjected this suave old man to such a rigid examination as to what +he had seen, or had not seen, from his windows, that no possibility seemed to +remain of his concealing a single fact which could help to the elucidation of +this or any other mystery connected with the old mansion. +</p> + +<p> +He asked him if he had seen Mr. Jeffrey go in on the night in question; if he +had ever seen any one go in there since the wedding; or even if he had seen any +one loitering about the steps, or sneaking into the rear yard. But the answer +was always no; these same noes growing more and more emphatic, and the +gentleman more and more impenetrable and dignified as the examination went on. +In fact, he was as unassailable a witness as I have ever heard testify before +any jury. Beyond the fact already mentioned of his having observed a light in +the opposite house on the two evenings in question, he admitted nothing. His +life in the little cottage was so engrossing—he had his organ—his +dog—why should he look out of the window? Had it not been for his usual +habit of letting his dog run the pavements for a quarter of an hour before +finally locking up for the night, he would not have seen as much as he did. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you any stated hour for doing this?” the coroner now asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; half-past nine” +</p> + +<p> +“And was this the hour when you saw that light?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, both times.” +</p> + +<p> +As he had appeared at the station-house at a few minutes before ten he was +probably correct in this statement. But, notwithstanding this, I did not feel +implicit confidence in him. He was too insistent in his regret at not being +able to give greater assistance in the disentanglement of a mystery so +affecting the honor of the family of which he was now the recognized head. His +voice, nicely attuned to the occasion, was admirable; so was his manner; but I +mentally wrote him down as one I should enjoy outwitting if the opportunity +ever came my way. +</p> + +<p> +He wound up with such a distinct repetition of his former emphatic assertion as +to the presence of light in the old house on Tuesday as well as Wednesday +evening that Mr. Jeffrey’s testimony in this regard received a decided +confirmation. I looked to see some open recognition of this, when suddenly, and +with a persistence understood only by the police, the coroner recalled Mr. +Jeffrey and asked him what proof he had to offer that his visit of Tuesday had +not been repeated the next night and that he was not in the building when that +fatal trigger was pulled. +</p> + +<p> +At this leading question, a lawyer sitting near me, edged himself forward as if +he hoped for some sign from Mr. Jeffrey which would warrant him in interfering. +But Mr. Jeffrey gave no such sign. I doubt if he even noticed this man’s +proximity, though he knew him well and had often employed him as his legal +adviser in times gone by. He was evidently exerting himself to recall the name +which so persistently eluded his memory, putting his hand to his head and +showing the utmost confusion. +</p> + +<p> +“I can not give you one,” he finally stammered. “There is a +man who could tell—if only I could remember his name.” Suddenly +with a loud cry which escaped him involuntarily, he gave a gurgling laugh and +we heard the name “<i>Tallman!</i>” leap from his lips. +</p> + +<p> +The witness had at last remembered whom he had met at the cemetery gate at the +hour, or near the hour, his wife lay dying in the lower part of the city. +</p> + +<p> +The effect was electrical. One of the spectators—some country boor, no +doubt—so far forgot himself as to cry out loud enough for all to hear: +</p> + +<p> +“Tallman! Let us have Tallman!” +</p> + +<p> +Of course he met with an instant rebuke, but I did not wait to hear it, or to +see order restored, for a glance from the coroner had already sent me to the +door in search of this new witness. +</p> + +<p> +My destination was the Cosmos Club, for Phil Tallman and his habits and haunts +were as well known in Washington as the figure of Liberty on the summit of the +Capitol dome. When I saw him I did not wonder. Never have I seen a more amiable +looking man, or one with a more absentminded expression. To my query as to +whether he had ever met Mr. Jeffrey at or near the entrance of Rock Creek +Cemetery, he replied with an amazed look and the quick response: +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I did. It was the very night that his wife— But +what’s up? You look excited for a detective.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come to the morgue and see. This testimony of yours will prove +invaluable to Mr. Jeffrey.” +</p> + +<p> +I shall never forget the murmur of suppressed excitement which greeted us as I +reappeared before coroner and jury accompanied by the gentleman who had been +called for in such peremptory tones a short time before. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey, who had attempted to rise at our entrance, but seemed to lack the +ability, gave a faint smile as Tallman’s good-natured face appeared; and +the coroner, feeling, perhaps, that some cords are liable to break if stretched +too strongly, administered the oath and made the necessary inquiries with as +little delay as was compatible with the solemnity of the occasion. +</p> + +<p> +The result was an absolute proof that Mr. Jeffrey had been near Soldiers’ +Home as late as seven, which was barely fifteen minutes previous to the hour +Mrs. Jeffrey’s watch was stopped by her fall in the old house on Waverley +Avenue. As the distance between the two places could not be compassed in that +time, Mr. Jeffrey’s alibi could be regarded as established. +</p> + +<p> +When we were all rising, glad of an adjournment which restored free movement +and an open interchange of speech, a sudden check in the general rush called +our attention back to Mr. Jeffrey. He was standing facing Miss Tuttle, who was +still sitting in a strangely immovable attitude in her old place. He had just +touched her on the arm, and now, with a look of alarm, he threw up the veil +which had kept her face hidden from all beholders. +</p> + +<p> +A vision of loveliness greeted us, but that was not all. It was an unconscious +loveliness. Miss Tuttle had fainted away, sitting upright in her chair. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap15"></a>XV.<br /> +WHITE BOW AND PINK</h2> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey’s examination and its triumphant conclusion created a great +furor in town. Topics which had hitherto absorbed all minds were forgotten in +the discussion of the daring attempt which had been made by the police to fix +crime upon one of Washington’s most esteemed citizens, and the check +which they had rightly suffered for this outrage. What might be expected next? +Something equally bold and reprehensible, of course, but what? It was a +question which at the next sitting completely filled the inquest room. +</p> + +<p> +To my great surprise, Mr. Jeffrey was recalled to the stand. He had changed +since the night before. He looked older, and while still handsome, for nothing +could rob him of his regularity of feature and extreme elegance of proportion, +showed little of the spirit which, in spite of the previous day’s +depression, had upheld him through its most trying ordeal and kept his eye +bright, if only from excitement. This was fact number one, and one which I +stored away in my already well-furnished memory. +</p> + +<p> +Miss Tuttle sat in a less conspicuous position than on the previous day, and +Mr. Moore, her uncle, was not there at all. +</p> + +<p> +The testimony called for revived an old point which, seemingly, had not been +settled to the coroner’s satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +Had Mr. Jeffrey placed the small stand holding the candelabrum on the spot +where it had been found? No. Had he carried into the house, at the time of his +acknowledged visit, the candles which had been afterward discovered there? No. +He had had time to think since his hesitating and unsatisfactory replies of the +day before, and he was now in a position to say that while he distinctly +remembered buying candles on his way to the Moore house, he had not found them +in his pocket on getting there and had been obliged to make use of the matches +he always carried on his person in order to find his way to the upstairs room +where he felt positive he would find a candle. +</p> + +<p> +This gave the coroner an opportunity to ask: +</p> + +<p> +“And why did you expect to find a candle there?” +</p> + +<p> +The answer astonished me and, I have no doubt, many others. +</p> + +<p> +“It was the room in which my wife had dressed for the ceremony. It had +not been disturbed since that time. My wife had little ways of her own; one was +to complete her toilet by using a curling iron on a little lock she wore over +her temple. When at home she heated this curling iron in the gas jet, but there +being no gas in the Moore house, I naturally concluded that she had made use of +a candle, as the curl had been noticeable under her veil.” +</p> + +<p> +Oh, the weariness in his tone! I could scarcely interpret it. Was he talking by +rote, or was he utterly done with life and all its interests? No one besides +myself seemed to note this strange passivity. To the masses he was no longer a +suffering man, but an individual from whom information was to be got. The next +question was a vital one. +</p> + +<p> +He had accounted for one candle in the house; could he account for the one +found in the tumbler or for the one lying crushed and battered on the closet +floor? +</p> + +<p> +He could not. +</p> + +<p> +And now we all observed a change of direction in the inquiry. Witnesses were +summoned to corroborate Mr. Jeffrey’s statements, statements which it +seemed to be the coroner’s present wish to establish. First came the +grocer who had sold Mr. Jeffrey the candles. He acknowledged, much to +Jinny’s discomfort, that an hour after Mr. Jeffrey had left the store, he +had found on the counter the package which that gentleman had forgotten to +take. Poor Jinny had not stayed long enough to hear his story out. The grocer +finished his testimony by saying that immediately upon his discovery he had +sent the candles to Mr. Jeffrey’s house. +</p> + +<p> +This the coroner caused to be emphasized to such an extent that we were all +convinced of its importance. But as yet his purpose was not evident save to +those who were more in his confidence than myself. +</p> + +<p> +The other witnesses were men from Rauchers, who had acted as waiters at the +time of the marriage. One of them testified that immediately on Miss +Moore’s arrival he had been sent for a candle and a box of matches. The +other, that he had carried up to her room a large candelabrum from the +drawing-room mantel. A pair of curling tongs taken from the dressing table of +this room was next produced, together with other articles of toilet use which +had been allowed to remain there uncared for, though they were of solid silver +and of beautiful design. +</p> + +<p> +The next witness was a member of Mr. Jeffrey’s own household. Chloe was +her name, and her good black face worked dolefully as she admitted that the +package of candles which the grocer boy had left on the kitchen table, with the +rest of the groceries on the morning of that dreadful day when +“Missus” killed herself, was not to be found when she came to put +the things away. She had looked and looked for it, but it was not there. +</p> + +<p> +Further inquiry brought out the fact that but one other member of the household +was in the kitchen when these groceries were delivered; and that this person +gave a great start when the boy shouted out, “The candles there were +bought by Mr. Jeffrey,” and hurried over to the table and handled the +packages, although Chloe did not see her carry any of them away. +</p> + +<p> +“And who was this person?” +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Tuttle.” +</p> + +<p> +With the utterance of this name the veil fell from the coroner’s +intentions and the purpose of this petty but prolonged inquiry stood revealed. +It was to all a fearful and impressive moment. To me it was as painful as it +was triumphant. I had not anticipated such an outcome when I put my wits to +work to prove that murder, and not suicide, was answerable for young Mrs. +Jeffrey’s death. +</p> + +<p> +When the murmur which had hailed this startling turn in the inquiry had +subsided, the coroner drew a deep breath, and, with an uneasy glance at the +jury, who, to a man, seemed to wish themselves well out of this job, he +dismissed the cook and summoned a fresh witness. +</p> + +<p> +Her name made the people stare. +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Nixon.” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Nixon! That was a name well known in Washington; almost as well known as +that of Uncle David, or even of Mr. Tallman. What could this quaint and +characteristic little body have to do with this case of doubtful suicide? A +word will explain. She was the person who, on the day before, had made that +loud exclamation when the box containing the ribbon and the pistol had been +disclosed to the jury. +</p> + +<p> +As her fussy little figure came forward, some nudged and some laughed, possibly +because her bonnet was not of this year’s style, possibly because her +manner was peculiar and as full of oddities as her attire. But they did not +laugh long, for the little lady’s look was appealing, if not distressed. +The fact that she was generally known to possess one of the largest bank +accounts in the District, made any marked show of disrespect toward her a +matter of poor judgment, if not of questionable taste. +</p> + +<p> +The box in the coroner’s hand prepared us for what was before us. As he +opened it and disclosed again the dainty white bow which, as I have before +said, was of rather a fantastic make, the whole roomful of eager spectators +craned forward and were startled enough when he asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Did you ever see a bow like this before?” +</p> + +<p> +Her answer came in the faintest of tones. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I have one like it; very like it; so like it that yesterday I could +not suppress an exclamation on seeing this one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where did you get the one you have? Who fashioned it, I mean, or tied it +for you, if that is what I ought to say?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was tied for me by—Miss Tuttle. She is a friend of mine, or +was—and a very good one; and one day while watching me struggling with a +piece of ribbon, which I wanted made into a bow, she took it from my hand and +tied a knot for which I was very much obliged to her. It was very +pretty.” +</p> + +<p> +“And like this?” +</p> + +<p> +“Almost exactly, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you that knot with you?” +</p> + +<p> +She had. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you show it to the jury?” +</p> + +<p> +Heaving a sigh which she had much better have suppressed, she opened a little +bag she carried at her side and took out a pink satin bow. It had been tied by +a deft hand; and more than one pair of eyes fell significantly at sight of it. +</p> + +<p> +Amid a silence which was intense, two or three other witnesses were called to +prove that Miss Tuttle’s skill in bow-tying was exceptional, and was +often made use of, not only by members of her household, but, as in Miss +Nixon’s case, by outsiders; the special style shown in the one under +consideration being the favorite. +</p> + +<p> +During all this, I kept my eyes on Mr. Jeffrey. It had now become so evident +which way the coroner’s inquiries tended that I wished to be the first to +note their effect on him. It was less marked than I had anticipated. The man +seemed benumbed by accumulated torment and stared at the witnesses filing +before him as if they were part of some wild phantasmagoria which confused, +without enlightening him. When finally several persons of both sexes were +brought forward to prove that his attentions to Miss Tuttle had once been +sufficiently marked for an announcement of their engagement to be daily looked +for, he let his head fall forward on his breast as if the creeping horror which +had seized him was too much for his brain if not for his heart. The final blow +was struck when the man whom I had myself seen in Alexandria testified to the +<i>contretemps</i> which had occurred in Atlantic City; an additional point +being given to it by the repetition of some old conversation raked up for the +purpose, by which an effort was made to prove that Miss Tuttle found it hard to +forgive injuries even from those nearest and dearest to her. This subject might +have been prolonged, but some of the jury objected, and the time being now ripe +for the great event of the day, the name of the lady herself was called. +</p> + +<p> +After so significant a preamble, the mere utterance of Miss Tuttle’s name +had almost the force of an accusation; but the dignity with which she rose +calmed all minds, and subdued every expression of feeling. I could but marvel +at her self-poise and noble equanimity, and asked myself if, in the few days +which had passed since first the murmur of something more serious than suicide +had gone about, she had so schooled herself for all emergencies that nothing +could shake her self-possession, not even the suggestion that a woman of her +beauty and distinction could be concerned in a crime. Or had she within herself +some great source of strength, which sustained her in this most dreadful +ordeal? All were on watch to see. When the veil dropped from before her +features and she stepped into the full sight of the expectant crowd, it was not +the beauty of her face, notable and conspicuous as that was, which roused the +hum of surprise that swept from one end of the room to the other, but the +calmness, almost the elevation of her manner, a calmness and elevation so +unlooked for in the light of the strange contradictions offered by the evidence +to which we had been listening for a day and a half, that all were affected; +many inclined even to believe her innocent of any undue connection with her +sister’s death before she had stretched forth her hand to take the oath. +</p> + +<p> +I was no exception to the rest. Though I had exerted myself from the first to +bring matters to a climax—but not to this one—I experienced such a +shock under the steady gaze of her sad but gentle eyes, that I found myself +recoiling before my own presumption with something like secret shame till I was +relieved by the thought that a perfectly innocent woman would show more feeling +at so false and cruel a position. I felt that only one with something to +conceal would turn so calm a front upon men ready, as she knew, to fix upon her +a great crime. This conviction steadied me and made me less susceptible to her +grace and to the tone of her quiet voice and the far-away sadness of her look. +She faltered only when by chance she glanced at the shrinking figure of Francis +Jeffrey. +</p> + +<p> +Her name which she uttered without emphasis and yet in a way to arouse +attention sank into all hearts with more or less disturbance. “Alice Cora +Tuttle!” How in days gone by, and not so long gone by, either, those +three words had aroused the enthusiasm of many a gallant man and inspired the +toast at many a gallant feast! They had their charm yet, if the heightened +color observable on many a cheek there was a true index to the quickening heart +below. +</p> + +<p> +“How are you connected with the deceased Mrs. Jeffrey?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am the child of her mother by a former husband. We were +half-sisters.” +</p> + +<p> +No bitterness in this statement, only an infinite sadness. The coroner +continued to question her. He asked for an account of her childhood, and forced +her to lay bare the nature of her relations with her sister. But little was +gained by this, for their relations seemed to have been of a sympathetic +character up to the time of Veronica’s return from school, when they +changed somewhat; but how or why, Miss Tuttle was naturally averse to saying. +Indeed she almost refused to do so, and the coroner, feeling his point gained +more by this refusal than by any admission she might have made, did not press +this subject but passed on to what interested us more: the various unexplained +actions on her part which pointed toward crime. +</p> + +<p> +His first inquiry was in reference to the conversation held between her and Mr. +Jeffrey at the time he visited her room. We had listened to his account of it +and now we wished to hear hers. But the cue which had been given her by this +very account had been invaluable to her, and her testimony naturally coincided +with his. We found ourselves not an inch advanced. They had talked of her +sister’s follies and she had advised patience, and that was all she could +say on the subject—all she would say, as we presently saw. +</p> + +<p> +The coroner introduced a fresh topic. +</p> + +<p> +“What can you tell us about the interview you had with you sister prior +to her going out on the night of her death?” +</p> + +<p> +“Very little, except that it differed entirely from what is generally +supposed. She did not come to my room for conversation but simply to tell me +that she had an engagement. She was in an excited mood but said nothing to +alarm me. She even laughed when she left me; perhaps to put me off my guard, +perhaps because she was no longer responsible.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did she know that Mr. Jeffrey had visited you earlier in the day? Did +she make any allusion to it, I mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“None at all. She shrugged her shoulders when I asked if she was well, +and anticipated all further questions by running from the room. She was always +capricious in her ways and never more so than at that moment. Would to God that +it had been different! Would to God that she had shown herself to be a +suffering woman! Then I might have reached her heart and this tragedy would +have been averted.” +</p> + +<p> +The coroner favored the witness with a look of respect, perhaps because his +next question must necessarily be cruel. +</p> + +<p> +“Is that all you have to say concerning this important visit, the last +you held with your sister before her death?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir, there is something else, something which I should like to +relate to this jury. When she came into my room, she held in her hand a white +ribbon; that is, she held the two ends of a long satin ribbon which seemed to +come from her pocket. Handing those two ends to me, she asked me to tie them +about her wrist. ‘A knot under and a bow on top,’ she said, +‘so that it can not slip off.’ As this was something I had often +been called on to do for her, I showed no hesitation in complying with her +request. Indeed, I felt none. I thought it was her fan or her bouquet she held +concealed in the folds of her dress, but it proved to be—Gentlemen, you +know what. I pray that you will not oblige me to mention it.” +</p> + +<p> +It was such a stroke as no lawyer would have advised her to make,—I heard +afterward that she had refused the offices of a dozen lawyers who had proffered +her their services. But uttered as it was with a noble air and a certain +dignified serenity, it had a great effect upon those about her and turned in a +moment the wavering tide of favor in her direction. +</p> + +<p> +The coroner, who doubtless was perfectly acquainted with the explanation with +which she had provided herself, but who perhaps did not look for it to antedate +his attack, bowed in quiet acknowledgment of her request and then immediately +proceeded to ignore it. +</p> + +<p> +“I should be glad to spare you,” said he, “but I do not find +it possible. You knew that Mr. Jeffrey had a pistol?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did.” +</p> + +<p> +“That it was kept in their apartment?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“In the upper drawer of a certain bureau?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Miss Tuttle, will you tell us why you went to that drawer—if +you did go to that drawer—immediately after Mrs. Jeffrey left the +house?” +</p> + +<p> +She had probably felt this question coming, not only since the coroner began to +speak but ever since the evidence elicited from Loretta proved that her visit +to this drawer had been secretly observed. Yet she had no answer ready. +</p> + +<p> +“I did not go for the pistol,” she finally declared. But she did +not say what she had gone for, and the coroner did not press her. +</p> + +<p> +Again the tide swung back. +</p> + +<p> +She seemed to feel the change but did not show it in the way naturally looked +for. Instead of growing perturbed or openly depressed she bloomed into greater +beauty and confronted with steadier eye, not us, but the men she instinctively +faced as the tide of her fortunes began to lower. Did the coroner perceive this +and recognize at last both the measure of her attractions and the power they +were likely to carry with them? Perhaps, for his voice took an acrid note as he +declared: +</p> + +<p> +“You had another errand in that room?” +</p> + +<p> +She let her head droop just a trifle. +</p> + +<p> +“Alas!” she murmured. +</p> + +<p> +“You went to the book-shelves and took out a book with a peculiar cover, +a cover which Mr. Jeffrey has already recognized as that of the book in which +he found a certain note.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have said it,” she faltered. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you take such a book out?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did.” +</p> + +<p> +“For what purpose, Miss Tuttle?” +</p> + +<p> +She had meant to answer quickly. But some consideration made her hesitate and +the words were long in coming; when she did speak, it was to say: +</p> + +<p> +“My sister asked another favor of me after I had tied the ribbon. Pausing +in her passage to the door, she informed me in a tone quite in keeping with her +whole manner, that she had left a note for her husband in the book they were +reading together. Her reason for doing this, she said, was the very natural one +of wishing him to come upon it by chance, but as she had placed it in the front +of the book instead of in the back where they were reading, she was afraid that +he would fail to find it. Would I be so good as to take it out for her and +insert it again somewhere near the end? She was in a hurry or she would return +and do it herself. As she and Mr. Jeffrey had parted in anger, I hailed with +joy this evidence of her desire for a reconciliation, and it was in obedience +to her request, the singularity of which did not strike me as forcibly then as +now, that I went to the shelves in her room and took down the book.” +</p> + +<p> +“And did you find the note where she said?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and put it in toward the end of the story.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing more? Did you read the note?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was folded,” was Miss Tuttle’s quiet answer. Certainly +this woman was a thoroughbred or else she was an adept in deception such as few +of us had ever encountered. The gentleness of her manner, the easy tone, the +quiet eyes, eyes in whose dark depths great passions were visible, but passions +that were under the control of an equally forcible will, made her a puzzle to +all men’s minds; but it was a fascinating puzzle that awoke a species of +awe in those who attempted to understand her. To all appearances she was the +unlikeliest woman possible to cherish criminal intents, yet her answers were +rather clever than convincing, unless you allowed yourself to be swayed by the +look of her beautiful face or the music of her rich, sad voice. +</p> + +<p> +“You did not remain before these book-shelves long?” observed the +coroner. +</p> + +<p> +“You have a witness who knows more about that than I do,” she +suggested; and doubtless aware of the temerity of this reply, waited with +unmoved countenance, but with a visibly bounding breast, for what would +doubtless prove a fresh attack. +</p> + +<p> +It was a violent one and of a character she was least fitted to meet. Taking up +the box I have so often mentioned, the coroner drew away the ribbon lying on +top and disclosed the pistol. In a moment her hands were over her ears. +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you do that?” he asked. “Did you think I was going to +discharge it?” +</p> + +<p> +She smiled pitifully as she let her hands fall again. +</p> + +<p> +“I have a dread of firearms,” she explained. “I always have +had. Now they are simply terrible to me, and this one—” +</p> + +<p> +“I understand,” said the coroner, with a slight glance in the +direction of Durbin. They had evidently planned this test together on the +strength of an idea suggested to Durbin by her former action when the memory of +this shot was recalled to her. +</p> + +<p> +“Your horror seems to lie in the direction of the noise they make,” +continued her inexorable interlocutor. “One would say you had heard this +pistol discharged.” +</p> + +<p> +Instantly a complete breaking-up of her hitherto well maintained composure +altered her whole aspect and she vehemently cried: +</p> + +<p> +“I did, I did. I was on Waverley Avenue that night, and I heard the shot +which in all probability ended my sister’s life. I walked farther than I +intended; I strolled into the street which had such bitter memories for us and +I heard—No, I was not in search of my sister. I had not associated my +sister’s going out with any intention of visiting this house; I was +merely troubled in mind and anxious and—and—” +</p> + +<p> +She had overrated her strength or her cleverness. She found herself unable to +finish the sentence, and so did not try. She had been led by the impulse of the +moment farther than she had intended, and, aghast at her own imprudence, paused +with her first perceptible loss of courage before the yawning gulf opening +before her. +</p> + +<p> +I felt myself seized by a very uncomfortable dread lest her concealments and +unfinished sentences hid a guiltier knowledge of this crime than I was yet +ready to admit. +</p> + +<p> +The coroner, who is an older man than myself, betrayed a certain satisfaction +but no dread. Never did the unction which underlies his sharpest speeches show +more plainly than when he quietly remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“And so under a similar impulse you, as well as Mr. Jeffrey, chose this +uncanny place to ramble in. To all appearance that old hearth acted much more +like a lodestone upon members of your family than you were willing at one time +to acknowledge.” +</p> + +<p> +This reference to words she had herself been heard to use seemed to overwhelm +her. Her calmness fled and she cast a fleeting look of anguish at Mr. Jeffrey. +But his face was turned from sight, and, meeting with no help there, or +anywhere, indeed, save in her own powerful nature, she recovered as best she +could the ground she had lost and, with a trembling question of her own, +attempted to put the coroner in fault and reestablish herself. +</p> + +<p> +“You say ‘ramble through.’ Do you for a moment think that I +entered that old house?” +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Tuttle,” was the grave, almost sad reply, “did you not +know that in some earth, dropped from a flower-pot overturned at the time when +a hundred guests flew in terror from this house, there is to be seen the mark +of a footstep,—a footstep which you are at liberty to measure with your +own?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” she murmured, her hands going up to her face. +</p> + +<p> +But in another moment she had dropped them and looked directly at the coroner. +</p> + +<p> +“I walked there—I never said that I did not walk there—when I +went later to see my sister and in sight of a number of detectives passed +straight through the halls and into the library.” +</p> + +<p> +“And that this footstep,” inexorably proceeded the coroner, +“is not in a line with the main thoroughfare extending from the front to +the back of the house, but turned inwards toward the wall as if she who made it +had stopped to lean her head against the partition?” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Tuttle’s head drooped. Probably she realized at this moment, if not +before, that the coroner and jury had ample excuse for mistrusting one who had +been so unmistakably caught in a prevarication; possibly her regret carried her +far enough to wish she had not disdained all legal advice from those who had so +earnestly offered it. But though she showed alike her shame and her +disheartenment, she did not give up the struggle. +</p> + +<p> +“If I went into the house,” she said, “it was not to enter +that room. I had too great a dread of it. If I rested my head against the wall +it was in terror of that shot. It came so suddenly and was so frightful, so +much more frightful than anything you can conceive.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you did enter the house?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did.” +</p> + +<p> +“And it was while you were inside, instead of outside, that you heard the +shot?” +</p> + +<p> +“I must admit that, too. I was at the library door.” +</p> + +<p> +“You acknowledge that?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you did not enter the library?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, not then; not till I was taken back by the officer who told me of my +sister’s death.” +</p> + +<p> +“We are glad to hear this precise statement from you. It encourages me to +ask again the nature of the freak which took you into this house. You say that +it was not from any dread on your sister’s account? What, then, was it? +No evasive answer will satisfy us, Miss Tuttle.” +</p> + +<p> +She realized this as no one else could. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey’s reason for his visit there could not be her reason, yet +what other had she to give? Apparently none. +</p> + +<p> +“I can not answer,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +And the deep sigh which swept through the room was but an echo of the despair +with which she saw herself brought to this point. +</p> + +<p> +“We will not oblige you to,” said the coroner with apparent +consideration. But to those who knew the law against forcing a witness to +incriminate himself, this was far from an encouraging concession. +</p> + +<p> +“However,” he now went on, with suddenly assumed severity, +“you may answer this. Was the house dark or light when you entered it? +And, how did you get in?” +</p> + +<p> +“The house was dark, and I got in through the front door, which I found +ajar.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are more courageous than most women! I fear there are few of your +sex who could be induced to enter it in broad daylight and under every suitable +protection.” +</p> + +<p> +She raised her figure proudly. +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Tuttle, you have heard Chloe say that you were in the kitchen of +Mr. Jeffrey’s house when the grocer boy delivered the candles which had +been left by your brother-in-law on the counter of the store where he bought +them. Is this true?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir, it is true.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you see those candles?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“You did not see them?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet you went over to the table?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir, but I did not meddle with the packages. I had really no +business with them.” +</p> + +<p> +The coroner, surveying her sadly, went quickly on as if anxious to terminate +this painful examination. +</p> + +<p> +“You have not told us what you did when you heard that +pistol-shot.” +</p> + +<p> +“I ran away as soon as I could move; I ran madly from the house.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where?” +</p> + +<p> +“Home.” +</p> + +<p> +“But it was half-past ten when you got home.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was it?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was half-past ten when the man came to tell you of your +sister’s death.” +</p> + +<p> +“It may have been.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your sister is supposed to have died in a few minutes. Where were you in +the interim?” +</p> + +<p> +“God knows. I do not.” +</p> + +<p> +A wild look was creeping into her face, and her figure was swaying. But she +soon steadied it. I have never seen a more admirable presence maintained in the +face of a dreadful humiliation. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps I can help you,” rejoined the coroner, not unkindly. +“Were you not in the Congressional Library looking up at the lunettes and +gorgeously painted walls?” +</p> + +<p> +“I?” Her eyes opened wide in wondering doubt. “If I was, I +did not know it. I have no remembrance of it.” +</p> + +<p> +She seemed to lose sight of her present position, the cloud under which she +rested, and even the construction which might be put upon such a forgetfulness +at a time confessedly prior to her knowledge of the purpose and effect of the +shot from which she had so incontinently fled. +</p> + +<p> +“Your condition of mind and that of Mr. Jeffrey seem to have been +strangely alike,” remarked the coroner. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no!” she protested. +</p> + +<p> +“Arguing a like source.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no,” she cried again, this time with positive agony. Then with +an effort which awakened respect for her powers of mind, if for nothing else, +she desperately added: “I can not say what was in his heart that night, +but I know what was in mine—dread of that old house, to which I had been +drawn in spite of myself, possibly by the force of the tragedy going on inside +it, culminating in a delirium of terror, which sent me flying in an opposite +direction from my home and into places I had been accustomed to visit when my +heart was light and untroubled.” +</p> + +<p> +The coroner glanced at the jury, who unconsciously shook their heads. He shook +his, too, as he returned to the charge. +</p> + +<p> +“Another question, Miss Tuttle. When you heard a pistol-shot sounding +from the depths of that dark library, what did you think it meant?” +</p> + +<p> +She put her hands over her ears—it seemed as if she could not prevent +this instinctive expression of recoil at the mention of the death-dealing +weapon—and in very low tones replied: +</p> + +<p> +“Something dreadful; something superstitious. It was night, you remember, +and at night one has such horrible thoughts.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet an hour or two later you declared that the hearth was no lodestone. +You forgot its horrors and your superstition upon returning to your own +house.” +</p> + +<p> +“It might be;” she murmured; “but if so, they soon returned. +I had reason for my horror, if not for my superstition, as the event +showed.” +</p> + +<p> +The coroner did not attempt to controvert this. He was about to launch a final +inquiry. +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Tuttle; upon the return of yourself and Mr. Jeffrey to your home +after your final visit to the Moore house, did you have any interview that was +without witnesses?” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you exchange any words?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think we did exchange some words; it would be only natural.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you willing to state what words?” +</p> + +<p> +She looked dazed and appeared to search her memory. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think I can,” she objected. +</p> + +<p> +“But something was said by you and some answer was made by him?” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe so.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can not you say definitely?” +</p> + +<p> +“We did speak.” +</p> + +<p> +“In English?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, in French.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can not you translate that French for us?” +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me, sir; it was so long ago my memory fails me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it any better for the second and longer interview between you the +next day?” +</p> + +<p> +“No—sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“You can not give us any phrase or word that was uttered there?” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is this your final reply on this subject?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is.” +</p> + +<p> +She never had been subjected to an interrogation like this before. It made her +proud soul quiver in revolt, notwithstanding the patience with which she had +fortified herself. With red cheeks and glistening eyes she surveyed the man who +had made her suffer so, and instantly every other man there suffered with her; +excepting possibly Durbin, whose heart was never his strong point. But our +hearts were moved, our reasons were not convinced, as was presently shown, +when, with a bow of dismissal, the coroner released her, and she passed back to +her seat. +</p> + +<p> +Simultaneously with her withdrawal the gleam of sensibility left the faces of +the jury, and the dark and brooding look which had marked their countenances +from the beginning returned, and returned to stay. +</p> + +<p> +What would their verdict be? There were present two persons who affected to +believe that it would be one of suicide occasioned by dementia. These were Miss +Tuttle and Mr. Jeffrey, who, now that the critical period had come, +straightened themselves boldly in their seats and met the glances concentrated +upon them with dignity, if not with the assurance of complete innocence. But +from the carefulness with which they avoided each other’s eyes and the +almost identical expression mirrored upon both faces, it was visible to all +that they regarded their cause as a common one, and that the link which they +denied, as having existed between them prior to Mrs. Jeffrey’s death, had +in some way been supplied by that very tragedy; so that they now unwittingly +looked with the same eyes, breathed with the same breath, and showed themselves +responsive to the same fluctuations of hope and fear. +</p> + +<p> +The celerity with which that jury arrived at its verdict was a shock to us all. +It had been a quiet body, offering but little assistance to the coroner in his +questioning; but when it fell to these men to act, the precision with which +they did so was astonishing. In a half-hour they returned from the room into +which they had adjourned, and the foreman gave warning that he was prepared to +render a verdict. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey and Miss Tuttle both clenched their hands; then Miss Tuttle pulled +down her veil. +</p> + +<p> +“We find,” said the solemn foreman, “that Veronica Moore +Jeffrey, who on the night of May eleventh was discovered lying dead on the +floor of her own unoccupied house in Waverley Avenue, came to her death by +means of a bullet, shot from a pistol connected to her wrist by a length of +white satin ribbon. +</p> + +<p> +“That the first conclusion of suicide is not fully sustained by the +facts; +</p> + +<p> +“And that attempt should be made to identify the hand that fired this +pistol.” +</p> + +<p> +It was as near an accusation of Miss Tuttle as was possible without mentioning +her name. A groan passed through the assemblage, and Mr. Jeffrey, bounding to +his feet, showed an inclination to shout aloud in his violent indignation. But +Miss Tuttle, turning toward him, lifted her hand with a commanding gesture and +held it so till he sat down again. +</p> + +<p> +It was both a majestic and an utterly incomprehensible movement on her part, +giving to the close of these remarkable proceedings a dramatic climax which set +all hearts beating and, I am bound to say, all tongues wagging till the room +cleared. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap16"></a>XVI.<br /> +AN EGOTIST OF THE FIRST WATER</h2> + +<p> +Had the control of affairs been mine at this moment I am quite positive that I +should have found it difficult to deny these two the short interview which they +appeared to crave and which would have been to them such an undeniable comfort. +But a sterner spirit than mine was in charge, and the district attorney, into +whose hands the affair had now fallen, was inexorable. Miss Tuttle was treated +with respect, with kindness, even, but she was not allowed any communication +with her brother-in-law beyond the formal “Good afternoon” incident +upon their separation; while he, scorning to condemn his lips to any such trite +commonplace, said nothing at all, only looked a haggard inquiry which called +forth from her the most exalted look of patience and encouraging love it has +ever been my good fortune to witness. Durbin was standing near and saw this +look as plainly as I did, but it did not impose on him, he said. But what in +the nature of human woe could impose on him? Durbin is a machine—a very +reliable and useful machine, no doubt, yet when all is said, a simple +contrivance of cogs and wheels; while I—well, I hope that I am something +more than that; or why was I a changed man toward her from the moment I saw the +smile which marked this accused woman’s good by to Francis Jeffrey. No +longer believing in her guilt, I went about my business with tumult in brain +and heart, asking in my remorse for an opportunity to show her some small +courtesy whereby to relieve the torture I felt at having helped the coroner in +the inquiries which had brought about what looked to me now like a cruel and +unwarranted result. +</p> + +<p> +That it should be given to Durbin to hold such surveillance over her as her +doubtful position demanded added greatly to my discomfort. But I was enabled to +keep my lips firmly shut over any expression of secret jealousy or displeasure; +and this was fortunate, as otherwise I might have failed to obtain the chance +of aiding her later on, in other and deeper matters. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, and before any of us had left this room, one fact had become +apparent. Mr. Jeffrey was not going to volunteer any fresh statement in face of +the distinct disapproval of his sister-in-law. As his eye fell upon the +district attorney, who had lingered near, possibly in the hope of getting +something more from this depressed and almost insensible man, he made one +remark, but it was an automatic one, calculated to produce but little effect on +the discriminating ears of this experienced official. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not believe that my wife was murdered.” This was what he +said. “It was a wicked verdict. My wife killed herself. Wasn’t the +pistol found tied to her?” +</p> + +<p> +Either from preoccupation or a dazed condition of mind, he seemed to forget +that Miss Tuttle had owned to tying on this pistol; and that nothing but her +word went to prove that this was done before and not after the shot had been +delivered in the Moore house library. I thought I understood him and was +certain that I sympathized with his condition; but in the ears of those less +amiably disposed toward him, his statements had lost force and the denial went +for little. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile a fact which all had noted and commented on had recurred to my mind +and caused me to ask a brother officer who was walking out beside me what he +thought of Mr. Moore’s absence from an inquiry presumably of such +importance to all members of this family. +</p> + +<p> +The fellow laughed and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Old Dave has lost none of his peculiarities in walking into his fortune. +This is his day at the cemetery. Didn’t you know that? He will let +nothing on earth get in the way of his pilgrimage to that spot on the +twenty-third of May, much less so trivial an occurrence as an inquest over the +remains of his nearest relative.” +</p> + +<p> +I felt my gorge rise; then a thought struck me and I asked how long the old +gentleman kept up his watch. +</p> + +<p> +“From sunrise to sundown, the boys say. I never saw him there myself. My +beat lies in an opposite direction.” +</p> + +<p> +I left him and started for Rock Creek Cemetery. There were two good hours yet +before sundown and I resolved to come upon Uncle David at his post. +</p> + +<p> +It took just one hour and a quarter to get there by the most direct route I +could take. Five minutes more to penetrate the grounds to where a superb +vehicle stood, drawn by two of the finest horses I had seen in Washington for +many a long day. As I was making my way around this equipage I came upon a plot +in a condition of upheaval preparatory to new sodding and the planting of +several choice shrubs. In the midst of the sand thus exposed a single +head-stone rose. On his knees beside this simple monument I saw the figure of +Uncle David, dressed in his finest clothes and showing in his oddly contorted +face the satisfaction of great prosperity, battling with the dissatisfaction of +knowing that one he had so loved had not lived to share his elevation. He was +rubbing away the mold from the name which, by his own confession, was the only +one to which his memory clung in sympathy or endearment. At his feet lay an +open basket, in which I detected the remains of what must have been a rather +sumptuous cold repast. To all appearance he had foregone none of his ancient +customs; only those customs had taken on elegance with his rise in fortune. The +carriage and the horses, and most of all, the imperturbable driver, seemed to +awaken some awe in the boys. They were still in evidence, but they hung back +sheepishly and eyed the basket of neglected food as if they hoped he would +forget to take it away. Meanwhile the clattering of chains against the harness, +the pawing of the horses and the low exclamations of the driver caused me the +queerest feelings. Advancing quite unceremoniously upon the watcher by the +grave, I remarked aloud; +</p> + +<p> +“The setting sun will soon release you, Mr. Moore. Are you going +immediately into town?” +</p> + +<p> +He paused in his rubbing, which was being done with a very tender hand, and as +if he really loved the name he was endeavoring to bring into plainer view. +Scowling a little, he turned and met me point-blank with a look which had a +good deal of inquiry in it. +</p> + +<p> +“I am not usually interrupted here,” he emphasized; “except +by the boys,” he added more mildly. “They sometimes approach too +closely, but I am used to the imps and scarcely notice them. Ah! there are some +of my old friends now! Well, it is time they knew that a change has taken place +in my fortunes. Hi, there! Hands up and catch this, and this, and this!” +he shouted. “But keep quiet about it or next year you will get pennies +again.” +</p> + +<p> +And flinging quarters right and left, he smiled in such a pompous, +self-satisfied way at the hurrah and scramble which ensued, that it was well +worth my journey there just to see this exhibition of combined vanity and good +humor. +</p> + +<p> +“Now go!” he vociferated; and the urchins, black and white, flew +away, flinging up their heels in delight and shouting: “Bully for you, +Uncle David! We’ll come again next year, not for twenty-fives but +<i>fifties</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will make it dollars if I only live so long,” he muttered. And +deigning now to remember the question I had put to him, he grandly remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“I am going straight into town. Can I do anything for you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing. I thought you might like to know what awaits you there. The +city is greatly stirred up. The coroner’s jury in the Jeffrey-Moore case +has just brought in a verdict to the effect that suicide has not been proved. +Naturally, this is equivalent to one of murder.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” he ejaculated, slightly taken aback for one so invariably +impassive. +</p> + +<p> +“And to whom is the guilt of this crime ascribed?” he presently +ventured. +</p> + +<p> +“There was mention of no name; but the opprobrium naturally falls on Miss +Tuttle.” +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Tuttle? Ah!” +</p> + +<p> +“Since Mr. Jeffrey is proved to have been too far away at the time to +have fired that shot, while she—” +</p> + +<p> +“I am following you—” +</p> + +<p> +“Was in the very house—at the door of the library in fact—and +heard the pistol discharged, if she did not discharge it herself—which +some believe, notably the district attorney. You should have been there, Mr. +Moore.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked surprised at this suggestion. +</p> + +<p> +“I never am anywhere but here on the twenty-third of May,” he +declared. +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Tuttle needed some adviser.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, probably.” +</p> + +<p> +“You would have been a good one.” +</p> + +<p> +“And a welcome one, eh?” +</p> + +<p> +I hardly thought he would have been a welcome one, but I did not admit the +fact. Nevertheless he seized on the advantage he evidently thought he had +gained and added, mildly enough, or rather without any display of feeling: +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Tuttle likes me even less than Veronica did. I do not think she +would have accepted, certainly she would not have desired, my presence in her +counsels. But of one thing I wish her to be assured, her and the world in +general. Any money she may need at this—at this unhappy crisis in her +life, she will find amply supplied. She has no claims on me, but that makes +little difference where the family honor is concerned. Her mother’s +husband was my brother—the girl shall have all she needs. I will write +her so.” +</p> + +<p> +He was moving toward his carriage. +</p> + +<p> +“Fine turnout?” he interrogatively remarked. +</p> + +<p> +I assented with all the surprise,—with all the wonder even—which +his sublime egotism seemed to invite. +</p> + +<p> +“It is the best that Downey could raise in the time I allotted him. When +I really finger the money, we shall see, we shall see.” +</p> + +<p> +His foot was on the carriage-step. He looked up at the west. The sun was almost +down but not quite. “Have you any special business with me?” he +asked, lingering with what I thought a surprising display of conscientiousness +till the last ray of direct sunlight had disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +I glanced up at the coachman sitting on his box as rigid as any stone. +</p> + +<p> +“You may speak,” said he; “Cæsar neither hears nor sees +anything but his horses when he drives me.” +</p> + +<p> +The black did not wink. He was as completely at home on the box and as quiet +and composed in his service as if he had driven this man for years. +</p> + +<p> +“He understands his duty,” finished the master, but with no outward +appearance of pride. “What have you to say to me?” +</p> + +<p> +I hesitated no longer. +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Tuttle is supposed to have secretly entered the Moore house on the +night you summoned us. She even says she did. I know that you have sworn to +having seen no one go into that house; but notwithstanding this, haven’t +you some means at your disposal for proving to the police and to the world at +large that she never fired that fatal shot? Public opinion is so cruel. She +will be ruined whether innocent or guilty, unless it can be very plainly shown +that she did not enter the library prior to going there with the police.” +</p> + +<p> +“And how can you suppose me to be in a position to prove <i>that?</i> Say +that I had sat in my front window all that evening, and watched with +uninterrupted assiduity the door through which so many are said to have passed +between sunset and midnight—something which I did not do, as I have +plainly stated on oath—how could you have expected me to see what went on +in the black interior of a house whose exterior is barely discernible at night +across the street?” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you can not aid her?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +With a light bound he leaped into the carriage. As he took his seat he politely +remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“I should be glad to, since, though not a Moore, she is near enough the +family to affect its honor. But not having even seen her enter the house I can +not testify in any way in regard to her. Home, Cæsar, and drive quickly. I do +not thrive under these evening damps.” +</p> + +<p> +And leaning back, with an inexpressible air of contentment with himself, his +equipage and the prospect of an indefinite enjoyment of the same, the last +representative of the great Moore family was quietly driven away. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap17"></a>XVII.<br /> +A FRESH START</h2> + +<p> +I was far from being good company that night. I knew this without being told. +My mind was too busy. I was too full of regrets and plans, reasonings and +counter reasonings. In my eyes Miss Tuttle had suddenly become innocent, +consequently a victim. But a victim to what? To some exaggerated sense of duty? +Possibly; but to what duty? That was the question, to answer which offhand I +would, in my present excitement, have been ready to sacrifice a month’s +pay. +</p> + +<p> +For I was moved, not only by the admiration and sympathy which all men must +feel for a beautiful woman caught in such a deadly snare of circumstantial +evidence, but by the conviction that Durbin, whose present sleek complacency +was more offensive to me than the sneering superiority of a week ago, believed +her to be a guilty woman, and as such his rightful prey. This alone would have +influenced me to take the opposite view; for we never ran along together, and +in a case where any division of opinion was possible, always found ourselves, +consciously or unconsciously, on different sides. Yet I did not really dislike +Durbin, who is a very fine fellow. I only hated his success and the favor which +rewarded it. +</p> + +<p> +I know that I have some very nasty failings and I do not shrink from owning +them. My desire is to represent myself as I am, and I must admit that it was +not entirely owing to disinterested motives that I now took the secret stand I +did in Miss Tuttle’s favor. To prove her innocent whom once I considered +the cause of, if not the guilty accessory to her sister’s murder, now +became my dream by night and my occupation by day. Though I seemed to have no +sympathizer in this effort and though the case against her was being pushed +very openly in the district attorney’s office, yet I clung to my +convictions with an almost insensate persistence, inwardly declaring her the +victim of circumstances, and hoping against hope that some clue would offer +itself by means of which I might yet prove her so. But where was I to seek for +this clue? +</p> + +<p> +Alas, no ready answer to this very important query was forthcoming. All +possible evidence in this case seemed to have been exhausted save such as Mr. +Jeffrey and Miss Tuttle withheld. And so the monstrous accusation stood, and +before it all Washington—my humble self included—stood in a daze of +mingled doubt and compassion, hunting for explanations which failed to appear +and seeking in vain for some guiltier party, who evermore slipped from under +our hand. Had Mr. Jeffrey’s alibi been less complete he could not have +stood up against the suspicions which now ran riot. But there was no +possibility of shifting the actual crime back to him after the testimony of so +frank and trustworthy a man as Tallman. If the stopping of Mrs. Jeffrey’s +watch fixed the moment of her death as accurately as was supposed,—and I +never heard the least doubt thrown out in this regard,—he could not by +any means of transit then known in Washington have reached Waverley Avenue in +time to fire that shot. The gates of the cemetery were closed at sundown; +sundown took place that night at one minute past seven, and the distance into +town is considerable. His alibi could not be gainsaid. So his name failed to be +publicly broached in connection with the shooting, though his influence over +Miss Tuttle could not be forgotten, suggesting to some that she had acted as +his hand in the deed which robbed him of an undesirable wife. But this I would +not believe. I preferred to accept the statement that she had stopped short of +the library door in her suspicious visit there, and that the ribbon-tying, +which went for so much, had been done at home. That these facts, especially the +latter, called for more than common credulity, I was quite ready to +acknowledge; and had her feeling for Francis Jeffrey shown less unselfishness, +I should certainly have joined my fellows in regarding these assertions as very +lame attempts to explain what could only be explained by a confession of guilt. +</p> + +<p> +So here was a tangle without a frayed end to pull at, unless the impervious +egotism of Uncle David afforded one, which I doubted. For how could any man +with a frightful secret in his breast show that unmixed delight in his new +equipage and suddenly acquired position, which had so plainly beamed from that +gentleman’s calm eye and assured bearing? When he met my scrutiny in the +sacred precincts where the one love of his heart lay buried, he did so without +a quiver or any sign of inner disturbance. His tone to Cæsar as he drove off +had been the tone of a man who can afford to speak quietly because he is +conscious of being so undeniably the master; and when his foot rose to the +carriage step it was with the confidence of one who had been kept out of his +rights for most of his natural life, but who feels in his present enjoyment of +them no apprehension of a change. His whole bearing and conversation on that +day were, as I am quite ready to admit, an exhibition of prodigious +selfishness; but it was also an exhibition of mental poise incompatible with a +consciousness of having acquired his fortune by any means which laid him open +to the possibility of losing it. Or so I judged. +</p> + +<p> +Finding myself, with every new consideration of the tantalizing subject, deeper +and deeper in the quagmire of doubt and uncertainty, I sought enlightenment by +making a memorandum of the special points which must have influenced the jury +in their verdict, as witness: +</p> + +<p> +1. The relief shown by Mr. Jeffrey at finding an apparent communication from +his wife hinting at suicide. +</p> + +<p> +2. The possibility, disclosed by the similarity between the sisters’ +handwriting, of this same communication being a forgery substituted for the one +really written by Mrs. Jeffrey. +</p> + +<p> +3. The fact that, previous to Mr. Jeffrey’s handling of the book in which +this communication was said to have been hidden, it had been seen in Miss +Tuttle’s hands. +</p> + +<p> +4. That immediately after this she had passed to the drawer where Mr. +Jeffrey’s pistol was kept. +</p> + +<p> +5. That while this pistol had not been observed in her hand, there was as yet +no evidence to prove that it had been previously taken from the drawer, save +such as was afforded by her own acknowledgment that she had tied some unknown +object, presumably the pistol, to her sister’s wrist before that sister +left the house. +</p> + +<p> +6. That if this was so, the pistol and the ribbon connecting it with Mrs. +Jeffrey’s wrist had been handled again before the former was discharged, +and by fingers which had first touched dust—of which there was plenty in +the old library. +</p> + +<p> +7. That Miss Tuttle had admitted, though not till after much prevarication and +apparent subterfuge, that she had extended her walk on that fatal night not +only as far as the Moore house, but that she had entered it and penetrated as +far as the library door at the very moment the shot was fired within. +</p> + +<p> +8. That in acknowledging this she had emphatically denied having associated the +firing of this shot with any idea of harm to her sister; yet was known to have +gone from this house in a condition of mind so serious that she failed to +recollect the places she visited or the streets she passed through till she +found herself again in her sister’s house face to face with an officer. +</p> + +<p> +9. That her first greeting of this officer was a shriek, betraying a knowledge +of his errand before he had given utterance to a word. +</p> + +<p> +10. That the candles found in the Moore house were similar to those bought by +Mr. Jeffrey and afterward delivered at his kitchen door. +</p> + +<p> +11. That she was the only member of the household besides the cook who was in +the kitchen at the time, and that it was immediately after her departure from +the room that the package containing the candles had been missed. +</p> + +<p> +12. That opportunities of coming to an understanding with Mr. Jeffrey after his +wife’s death had not been lacking and it was not until after such +opportunities had occurred that any serious inquiry into this matter had been +begun by the police. To which must be added, not in way of proof but as an +important factor in the case, that her manner, never open, was such throughout +her whole public examination as to make it evident to all that only half of +what had occurred in the Jeffreys’ house since the wedding had been given +out by her or by the man for whose release from a disappointing matrimonial +entanglement she was supposed to have worked; this, though the suspicion +hanging over them both called for the utmost candor. +</p> + +<p> +Verily, a serious list; and opposed to this I had as yet little to offer but my +own belief in her innocence and the fact, but little dwelt on and yet not +without its value, that the money which had come to Mr. Jeffrey, and the home +which had been given her, had both been forfeited by Mrs. Jeffrey’s +death. +</p> + +<p> +As I mused and mused over this impromptu synopsis, in my vain attempt to reach +some fresh clue to a proper understanding of the inconsistencies in Miss +Tuttle’s conduct by means of my theory of her strong but mistaken +devotion to Mr. Jeffrey, a light suddenly broke upon me from an entirely +unexpected quarter. It was a faint one, but any glimmer was welcome. +Remembering a remark made by Mr. Jeffrey in his examination, that Mrs. Jeffrey +had not been the same since crossing the fatal doorstep of the Moore house, I +asked myself if we had paid enough attention to the mental condition and +conduct of the bride prior to the alarm which threw a pall of horror over her +marriage; and caught by the idea, I sought for a fuller account of the events +of that day than had hitherto been supplied by newspaper or witness. +</p> + +<p> +Hunting up my friend, the reporter, I begged him to tell me where he had +obtained the facts from which he made that leading article in the Star which +had so startled all Washington on the evening of the Jeffrey wedding. That they +had come from some eye-witness I had no doubt, but who was the eye-witness? +Himself? No. Who then? At first he declined to tell me, but after a fuller +understanding of my motives he mentioned the name of a young lady, who, while a +frequent guest at the most fashionable functions, was not above supplying the +papers with such little items of current gossip as came under her own +observation. +</p> + +<p> +How I managed to approach this lady and by what means I succeeded in gaining +her confidence are details quite unnecessary to this narrative. Enough that I +did obtain access to her and that she talked quite frankly to me, and in so +doing supplied me with a clue which ultimately opened up to me an entirely new +field of inquiry. We had been discussing Mr. Jeffrey and Miss Tuttle, when +suddenly, and with no apparent motive beyond the natural love of gossip which +was her weakness, she launched out into remarks about the bride. The ceremony +had been late; did I know it? A half-hour or three-quarters past the time set +for it. And why? Because Miss Moore was not ready. She had chosen to array +herself in the house and had come early enough for the purpose; but she would +not accept any assistance, not even that of her maid, and of course she kept +every one waiting. “Oh, there was no more uneasy soul in the whole party +that morning than the bride!” Let other people remark upon the high look +in Cora Tuttle’s face, or gossip about the anxious manner of the +bridegroom; she, the speaker, could tell things about the bride which would go +to show that she was not all right even before that ominous death’s-head +reared itself into view at her marriage festival. Why, the fact that she came +downstairs and was married without her bridal bouquet was enough. Had there not +been so much else to talk about, people would have talked about that. But the +big event had so effectually swallowed up the little that only herself, and +possibly two other ladies she might name, seemed to retain any memory of the +matter. +</p> + +<p> +“What ladies?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, it doesn’t matter what ladies. Two of the very best sort. I +know they noticed it, because I heard them talking about it. We were all +standing in the upper hall and were all crowded into a passage leading to the +room where the bride was dressing. It was before the alarm had gone around of +what had been discovered in the library, and we were all impatient enough for +the appearance of the bride, who, we had been told, intended to wear the old +point in which her great-grandmother was married. I have a weakness for old +point and I was determined to stand where I could see her come out, even if I +lost sight of the ceremony itself. But it would have been tedious enough +waiting in that close hall if the ladies behind me had not kept up a +conversation, which I, of course, pretended not to hear. I remember it, every +word, for it was my sole amusement for half an hour. What was it? Oh, it was +about that same bouquet, which, by the way, I had the privilege of staring at +all the time they chatted. For the boy who brought it had not been admitted +into Miss Moore’s room, and, not knowing what else to do with it, was +lingering before her door, with the great streamers falling from his hands, and +the lilies making the whole place heavy with a sickening perfume. From what I +heard the ladies say, he had been standing there an hour, and the timid knock +he gave from time to time produced in me an odd feeling which those ladies +behind me seemed to share. +</p> + +<p> +“‘It’s a shame!’ I heard one of them cry. +‘Veronica Moore has no excuse for such thoughtlessness. It is an hour now +that she has been shut up in her room alone. She won’t have even her maid +in. She prefers to dress alone, she says. Peculiar in a bride, isn’t it? +But one thing is certain: she can not put on her veil without help. She will +have to call some one in for that.’ At which the other volunteered that +the Moores were all queer, and that she didn’t envy Francis Jeffrey. +‘What! not with fifty thousand a year to lighten her oddities?’ +returned her companion with a shrug which communicated itself to me, so closely +were we packed together. ‘I have a son who could bear with them under +such circumstances.’ Indeed she has, and all Washington knows it, but the +remark passed without comment, for they had not yet exhausted the main event, +and the person they now attacked was Miss Tuttle. ‘Why doesn’t she +come and see that that bouquet is taken in? I declare it’s not decent. +Mr. Jeffrey would not feel complimented if he knew the fate of those +magnificent lilies and roses. I presume he furnished the bouquet.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Miss Tuttle has looked out of her room once,’ I heard the +other reply. ‘She is in splendid beauty today, but pale. But she never +could control Veronica.’ ‘Hush! you speak louder than you +think’ This amused me, and I do believe that in another moment I should +have laughed outright if another boy had not appeared in the hall before us, +who, shoving aside the first, rapped on the door with a spirit which called for +answer. But he was no more successful than the other boy had been; so, being a +brisk fellow, with no time for nonsense, he called out, ‘Your bouquet, +Miss, and a message, which I am to give you before you go downstairs! The +gentleman is quite particular about it.’ These words were literally +shouted at the door, but in the hubbub of voices about us I don’t believe +any one heard them but ourselves and the bride. I know that she heard them, for +she opened the door a very little way,—such a very little way that the +boy had to put his lips to the crack when he spoke, and then turn and place his +ear where his lips had been in order to catch her reply. This, for some reason, +seemed a long time in coming, and the fellow grew so impatient that he amused +himself by snatching the bouquet from the other boy and thrusting it in through +the crack, to the very great detriment of its roses and lilies. When she took +it he bawled for his answer, and when he got it, he stared and muttered +doubtfully to himself as he worked his way out again through the crowd, which +by this time was beginning to choke up all the halls and stairways. +</p> + +<p> +“But why have I told you all this nonsense?” she asked quite +suddenly. “It isn’t of the least consequence that Veronica Moore +kept a boy waiting at her door while she dressed herself for her wedding; but +it shows that she was queer even then, and I for one believe in the theory of +suicide, and in that alone, and in the excuse she gave for it, too; for if she +had really loved Francis Jeffrey she would not have been so slow to take in the +magnificent bouquet he had provided for her.” +</p> + +<p> +But comment, even from those who had known these people well, was not what I +wanted at this moment, but facts. So, without much attention to these words, I +said: +</p> + +<p> +“You will excuse me if I suggest that you are going on too fast. The door +of the bride’s room has just been shut upon the boy who brought her a +message. When was it opened again?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not for a good half-hour; not till every one had grown nervous and Miss +Tuttle and one or two of her most intimate friends had gone more than once to +her door; not, in fact, till the hour for the ceremony had come and gone and +Mr. Jeffrey had crossed the hall twice under the impression that she was ready +for him. Then, when weariness was general and people were asking what kept the +bride and how much longer they were to be kept waiting, her door suddenly +opened and I caught a glimpse of her face and heard her ask at last for her +maid. O, I repeat that Veronica Moore was not all right that day, and though I +have heard no one comment on the fact, it has been a mystery to me ever since +why she gave that sudden recoil when Francis Jeffrey took her hand after the +benediction. It was not timidity, nor was it fear, for she did not know till a +minute afterward what had happened in the house. Did some sudden realization of +what she had done in marrying a man whom she herself declared she did not love +come when it was too late? What do you think?” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Freeman had forgotten herself; but the impetuosity which had led her into +asking my opinion made her forget in another moment that she had done so. And +when in my turn I propounded a question and inquired whether she ever again saw +the boy who besieged the bride’s door with a message, she graciously +replied: +</p> + +<p> +“The boy; let me see. Yes, I saw him twice; once in a back hall talking +earnestly to Mr. Jeffrey, and secondly at the carriage door just before the +bridal party rode away. It was Mrs. Jeffrey who was talking to him then, and I +wondered to see him look so pleased when everybody in and about the house was +pale as ashes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know the name of that boy?” I carelessly inquired. +</p> + +<p> +“His name? O no. He is one of Raucher’s waiters; the curly-haired +one. You see him everywhere; but I don’t know his name. Do you flatter +yourself that he can tell you anything that other people don’t know? Why, +if he knew the least thing that wasn’t in everybody’s mouth, you +would have heard from him long ago. Those men are the greatest gossips in +town”—I wonder what she thought of herself,—“and so +proud to be of any importance.” This was true enough, though I did not +admit it at the time; and when the interview was closed and I went away, I have +no doubt she considered me quite the most heavy person she had ever met. But +this did not disturb me. The little facts she had stated were new to me and, +repeating my former method, I was already busy arranging them in my mind. +Witness the result: +</p> + +<p> +1. The ceremony of marriage between Francis Jeffrey and Veronica Moore was +fully three-quarters of an hour late. +</p> + +<p> +2. This was owing to the caprice of the bride, who would not have any one in +the room with her, not even her maid. +</p> + +<p> +3. The bridal bouquet did not figure in the ceremony. In the flurry of the +moment it was forgotten or purposely left behind by the bride. As this bouquet +was undoubtedly the gift of Mr. Jeffrey, the fact may be significant. +</p> + +<p> +4. She received a message of a somewhat peremptory character before going +below. From whom? Her bridegroom? It would so appear from the character of the +message. +</p> + +<p> +5. The messenger showed great astonishment at the reply he was given to carry +back. Yet he has not been known to mention the matter. Why? When every one +talked he was silent. Through whose influence? This was something to find out. +</p> + +<p> +6. Though at the time the benediction was pronounced every one was in a state +of alarm except the bride, it was noticed that she gave an involuntary recoil +when her bridegroom stooped for the customary kiss. Why? Were the lines of her +last farewell true then, and did she experience at that moment a sudden +realization of her lack of love? +</p> + +<p> +7. She did not go again upstairs, but very soon fled from the house with the +rest of the bridal party. +</p> + +<p> +Petty facts, all, but possibly more significant than appeared. I made up my +mind to find the boy who brought the bouquet and also the one who carried back +her message. +</p> + +<p> +But here a surprise, if not a check, awaited me. The florist’s boy had +left his place and no one could tell where he had gone. Neither could I find +the curly-haired waiter at Raucher’s. He had left also, but it was to +join the volunteers at San Antonio. +</p> + +<p> +Was there meaning in this coincidence? I resolved to know. Visiting the former +haunts of both boys, I failed to come upon any evidence of an understanding +between them, or of their having shown any special interest in the Jeffrey +tragedy. Both seemed to have been strangely reticent in regard to it, the +florist’s boy showing stupidity and the waiter such satisfaction in his +prospective soldiering that no other topic was deemed worthy his attention. The +latter had a sister and she could not say enough of the delight her brother had +shown at the prospect of riding a horse again and of fighting in such good +company. He had had some experience as a cowboy before coming to Washington, +and from the moment war was declared had expressed his intention of joining the +recruits for Cuba as soon as he could see her so provided for that his death +would not rob her of proper support. How this had come about she did not know. +Three weeks before he had been in despair over the faint prospect of doing what +he wished; then suddenly, and without any explanation of how the change had +come about, he had rushed in upon her with the news that he was going to enlist +in a company made up of bronco busters and rough riders from the West, that she +need not worry about herself or about him, for he had just put five hundred +dollars to her account in bank, and that as for himself he possessed a charmed +life and was immune, as she well knew, and need fear bullets no more than the +fever. By this he meant that he had had yellow fever years before in Louisiana, +and that a ball which had once been fired at him had gone clean through his +body without taking his life. +</p> + +<p> +“What was the date of the evening on which he told you he had placed +money in bank for you?” +</p> + +<p> +“April the twenty-ninth.” +</p> + +<p> +Two days after the Jeffrey-Moore wedding! +</p> + +<p> +Convinced now that his departure from town was something more than a +coincidence, I pursued my inquiries and found that he had been received, just +as she had said, into the First Volunteer Corps under Colonel Wood. This +required influence. Whose was the influence? It took me some time to find out, +but after many and various attempts, most of which ended in failure, I +succeeded in learning that the man who had worked and obtained for him a place +in this favored corps was <i>Francis Jeffrey</i>. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap18"></a>XVIII.<br /> +IN THE GRASS</h2> + +<p> +I did some tall thinking that night. I remembered that this man had held some +conversation with the Jeffreys at their carriage door previous to their +departure from the Moore house, and found myself compelled to believe that only +a matter of importance to themselves as well as to him would have detained them +at such a minute. Oh, that Tampa were not so far off or that I had happened on +this clue earlier! But Tampa was at that moment a far prospect for me and I +could only reason from such facts as I had been able to collect in Washington. +</p> + +<p> +Fixing my mind now on Mrs. Jeffrey, I asked the cause of the many caprices +which had marked her conduct on her wedding morning. Why had she persisted in +dressing alone, and what occasioned the absorption which led to her ignoring +all appeals at her door at a time when a woman is supposed to be more than +usually gracious? But one answer suggested itself. Her heart was not in her +marriage, and that last hour of her maidenhood had been an hour of anguish and +struggle. Perhaps she not only failed to love Francis Jeffrey, but loved some +other man. This seemed improbable, but things as strange as this have happened +in our complex society and no reckoning can be made with a woman’s fancy. +If this was so—and what other theory would better or even so well account +for her peculiar behavior both then and afterward? The hour usually given by +brides to dress and gladsome expectation was with her one of farewell to past +hopes and an unfortunate, if not passionate, attachment. No wonder that she +wished to be alone. No wonder that interruption angered her. Perhaps it had +found her on her knees. Perhaps— Here I felt myself seized by a strong +and sudden excitement. I remembered the filings I had gathered up from the +small stand by the window, filings which had glittered and which must have been +of gold. What was the conclusion? In this last hour of her maiden life she had +sought to rid herself of some article of jewelry which she found it undesirable +to carry into her new life. What article of jewelry? In consideration of the +circumstances and the hour, I could think of but one. A ring! the symbol of +some old attachment. +</p> + +<p> +The slight abrasion at the base of her third finger, which had been looked upon +as the result of too rough and speedy a withdrawing of the wedding-ring on the +evening of her death, was much more likely to have been occasioned by the +reopening of some little wound made two weeks before by the file. If Durbin and +the rest had taken into account these filings, they must have come to very much +the same conclusion; but either they had overlooked them in their search about +the place, or, having noted them, regarded them as a clue leading nowhere. +</p> + +<p> +But for me they led the way to a very definite inquiry. Asking to see the rings +Mrs. Jeffrey had left behind her on the night she went for the last time to the +Moore house, I looked them carefully over, and found that none of them showed +the least mark of the file. This strengthened my theory, and I proceeded to +take my next step with increased confidence. It seemed an easy one, but proved +unexpectedly difficult. My desire was to ascertain whether she had worn +previous to her marriage any rings which had not been seen on her finger since, +and it took me one whole week to establish the fact that she had. +</p> + +<p> +But that fact once learned, the way cleared before me. Allowing my fancy full +rein, I pictured to myself her anxious figure standing alone in that ancient +and ghostly room filing off this old ring from her dainty finger. Then I asked +myself what she would be likely to do with this ring after disengaging it from +her hand? Would she keep it? Perhaps; but if so, why could it not be found? +None such had been discovered among her effects. Or had she thrown it away, and +if so, where? The vision of her which I had just seen in my mind’s eye +came out with a clearness at this, which struck me as providential. I could +discern as plainly as if I had been a part of the scene the white-clad form of +the bride bending toward the light which came in sparsely through the half-open +shutter she had loosened for this task. This was the shutter which had never +again been fastened and whose restless blowing to and fro had first led +attention to this house and the crime it might otherwise have concealed +indefinitely. Had some glimpse of the rank grass growing underneath this window +lured her eye and led her to cast away the ring which she had no longer any +right to keep? It would be like a woman to yield to such an impulse; and on the +strength of the possibility I decided to search this small plot for what it +might very reasonably conceal. +</p> + +<p> +But I did not wish to do this openly. I was not only afraid of attracting +Durbin’s attention by an attempt which could only awaken his disdain, but +I hesitated to arouse the suspicion of Mr. Moore, whose interest in his newly +acquired property made him very properly alert to any trespass upon it. +</p> + +<p> +The undertaking, therefore, presented difficulties. But it was my business to +overcome these, and before long I conceived a plan by which every blade of +grass in the narrow strip running in front of this house might be gone over +without rousing anything more serious than Uncle David’s ire. +</p> + +<p> +Calling together a posse of street urchins, I organized them into a band, with +the promise of a good supper all around if one of them brought me the pieces of +a broken ring which I had lost in the grass plot of a house where I had been +called upon to stay all night. That they might win the supper in the shortest +possible time and before the owner of this house, who lived opposite, could +interfere, I advised them to start at the fence in a long line and, proceeding +on their knees, to search, each one, the ground before him to the width of his +own body. The fortunate one was to have the privilege of saying what the supper +should consist of. To give a plausible excuse for this search, a ball was to be +tossed up and down the street till it lighted in the Moore house inclosure. +</p> + +<p> +It was a scheme to fire the street boy’s soul, and I was only afraid of +failure from the over-enthusiasm it aroused. But the injunctions which I gave +them to spare the shrubs and not to trample the grass any more than was +necessary were so minute and impressive that they moved away to their task in +unexpected order and with a subdued cheerfulness highly promising of success. +</p> + +<p> +I did not accompany them. Jinny, who has such an innocent air on the street, +took my place and promenaded up and down the block, just to see that Mr. Moore +did not make too much trouble. And it was well she did so, for though he was +not at home,—I had chosen the hour of his afternoon ride,—his new +man-servant was; and he no sooner perceived this crowd of urchins making for +the opposite house than he rushed at them, and would have scattered them far +and wide in a twinkling if the demure dimples of my little ally had not come +into play and distracted his attention so completely as to make him forget the +throng of unkempt hoodlums who seemed bound to invade his master’s +property. She was looking for Mr. Moore’s house, she told him. Did he +know Mr. Moore, and his house which was somewhere near? Not his new, great, big +house, where the horrible things took place of which she had read in the +papers, but his little old house, which she had heard was soon to be for rent, +and which she thought would be just the right size for herself and mother. Was +<i>that</i> it? That dear little place all smothered in vines? How lovely! and +what would the rent be, did he think? and had it a back-yard with garden-room +enough for her to raise pinks and nasturtiums? and so on, and so on, while he +stared with delighted eyes, and tried to put in a word edgewise, and the +boys—well, they went through that strip of grass in just ten minutes. My +brave little Jinny had just declared with her most roguish smile that she would +run home and tell her mother all about this sweetest of sweet little places, +when a shout rose from the other side of the street, and that collection of +fifteen or twenty boys scampered away as if mad, shouting in joyous echo of the +boy at their head: +</p> + +<p> +“It’s to be chicken, heaping plates of ice cream and sponge +cake.” +</p> + +<p> +By which token she knew that the ring had been found. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +When they brought this ring to me I would not have exchanged places with any +man on earth. As Jinny herself was curious enough to stroll along about this +time, I held it out where we both could see it and draw our conclusions. +</p> + +<p> +It was a plain gold circlet set with a single small ruby. It was cut through +and twisted out of shape, just as I had anticipated; and as I examined it I +wondered what part it had played and was yet destined to play in the drama of +Veronica Jeffrey’s mysterious life and still more mysterious death. That +it was a factor of some importance, arguing some early school-girl love, I +could but gather from the fact that its removal from her finger was effected in +secrecy and under circumstances of such pressing haste. How could I learn the +story of that ring and the possible connection between it and Mr. +Jeffrey’s professed jealousy of his wife and the disappointing honeymoon +which had followed their marriage? That this feeling on his part had antedated +the ambassador’s ball no one could question; but that it had started as +far back as the wedding day was a new idea to me and one which suggested many +possibilities. Could this idea be established, and, if so, how? But one avenue +of inquiry offered itself. The waiter, who had been spirited away so curiously +immediately after the wedding; might be able to give us some information on +this interesting point. He had been the medium of the messages which had passed +between her and Mr. Jeffrey just prior to the ceremony; afterward he had been +seen talking earnestly to that gentleman and later with her. Certainly, it +would add to our understanding of the situation to know what reply she had sent +to the peremptory demand made upon her at so critical a time; an understanding +so desirable that the very prospect of it was almost enough to warrant a +journey to Tampa. Yet, say that the results were disappointing, how much time +lost and what a sum of money! I felt the need of advice in this crisis, yet +hesitated to ask it. My cursed pride and my no less cursed jealousy of Durbin +stood very much in my way at this time. +</p> + +<p> +A week had now passed since the inquest, and, while Miss Tuttle still remained +at liberty, it was a circumscribed liberty which must have been very galling to +one of her temperament and habits. She rode and she walked, but she entered no +house unattended nor was she allowed any communication with Mr. Jeffrey. +Nevertheless she saw him, or at least gave him the opportunity of seeing her. +Each day at three o’clock she rode through K Street, and the detective +who watched Mr. Jeffrey’s house said that she never passed it without +turning her face to the second-story window, where he invariably stood. No +signs passed between them; indeed, they scarcely nodded; but her face, as she +lifted it to meet his eye, showed so marked a serenity and was so altogether +beautiful that this same detective had a desire to see if it maintained like +characteristics when she was not within reach of her brother-in-law. +Accordingly, the next day he delegated his place to another and took his stand +farther down the street. Alas! it was not the same woman’s face he saw; +but a far different and sadder one. She wore that look of courage and brave +hope only in passing Mr. Jeffrey’s house. Was it simply an expression of +her secret devotion to him or the signal of some compact which had been entered +into between them? +</p> + +<p> +Whichever it was, it touched my heart, even in his description of it. After +advising with Jinny I approached the superintendent, to whom, without further +reserve, I opened my heart. +</p> + +<p> +The next day I found myself on the train bound for Tampa, with full authority +to follow Curly Jim until I found him. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="book03"></a>BOOK III<br /> +THE HOUSE OF DOOM</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap19"></a>XIX.<br /> +IN TAMPA</h2> + +<p> +When I started on this desperate search after a witness, war had been declared, +but no advance as yet ordered on Cuba. But during my journey south the long +expected event happened, and on my arrival in Tampa I found myself in the midst +of departure and everything in confusion. +</p> + +<p> +Of course, under such conditions it was difficult to find my man on the +instant. Innumerable inquiries yielded no result, and in the absence of any one +who would or could give me the desired information I wandered from one end of +the camp to the other till I finally encountered a petty officer who gave signs +of being a Rough Rider. Him I stopped, and, with some hint of my business, +asked where James Calvert could be found. +</p> + +<p> +His answer was a stare and a gesture toward the hospital tents. +</p> + +<p> +Nothing could have astonished me more. +</p> + +<p> +“Sick?” I cried. +</p> + +<p> +“Dying,” was his answer. +</p> + +<p> +Dying! Curly Jim! Impossible. I had misled my informant as to the exact man I +wanted, or else there were two James Calverts in Tampa. Curly Jim, the former +cowboy, was not the fellow to succumb in camp before he had ever smelt powder. +</p> + +<p> +“It is James Calvert of the First Volunteer Corps I am after,” said +I. “A sturdy fellow—” +</p> + +<p> +“No doubt, no doubt. Many sturdy fellows are down. He’s down to +stay. Typhoid, you know. Bad case. No hope from the start. Pity, +but—” +</p> + +<p> +I heard no more. Dying! Curly Jim. He who was considered to be immune! He who +held the secret— +</p> + +<p> +“Let me see him,” I demanded. “It is important—a police +matter—a word from him may save a life. He is still breathing?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but I do not think there is any chance of his speaking. He did not +recognize his nurse five minutes ago.” +</p> + +<p> +As bad as that! But I did not despair. I did not dare to. I had staked +everything on this interview, and I was not going to lose its promised results +from any lack of effort on my own part. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me see him,” I repeated. +</p> + +<p> +I was taken in. The few persons I saw clustered about a narrow cot in one +corner gave way and I was cut to the heart to see that they did this not so +much out of consideration for me or my errand there as from the consciousness +that their business at the bedside of this dying man was over. He was on the +point of breathing his last. I pressed forward, and after one quick scrutiny of +the closed eyes and pale face I knelt at his side and whispered a name into his +ear. It was that of Veronica Moore. +</p> + +<p> +He started; they all saw it. On the threshold of death, some emotion—we +never knew what one—drew him back for an instant, and the pale cheek +showed a suspicion of color. Though the eyes did not open, the lips moved, and +I caught these words: +</p> + +<p> +“Kept word—told no one—she was so—” +</p> + +<p> +And that was all. He died the next instant. +</p> + +<p> +Well! I was woefully done up by this sudden extinction of all my hopes. They +had been extravagant, no doubt, but they had sustained me through all my haps +and mishaps, trials and dangers, till now, here, they ended with the one +inexorable fact-death. Was I doomed to defeat, then? Must I go back to the +major with my convictions unchanged but with no fresh proof, no real evidence +to support them? I certainly must. With the death of this man, all means of +reaching the state of Mrs. Jeffrey’s mind immediately preceding her +marriage were gone. I could never learn now what to know would make a man of me +and possibly save Cora Tuttle. +</p> + +<p> +Bending under this stroke of Providence, I passed out. A little boy was sobbing +at the tent door. I stared at him curiously, and was hurrying on, when I felt +myself caught by the hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Take me with you,” cried a choked and frightened voice in my ear. +“I have no friend here, now <i>he</i> is gone; take me back to +Washington.” +</p> + +<p> +Washington! I turned and looked at the lad who, kneeling in the hot sand at the +door of the tent, was clutching me with imploring hands. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are you?” I asked; “and how came you here? Do you belong +to the army?” +</p> + +<p> +“I helped care for his horse,” he whispered. “He found me +smuggled on board the train—for I was bound to go to the war—and he +was sorry for me and used to give me bits of his own rations, but—but now +no one will give me anything. Take me back; she won’t care. She’s +dead, they say. Besides, I wouldn’t stay here now if she was alive and +breathing. I have had enough of war since he—Oh, he was good to +me—I never cared for any one so much.” +</p> + +<p> +I looked at the boy with an odd sensation for which I have no name. +</p> + +<p> +“Whom are you talking about?” I asked. “Your +mother—your sister?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no;” the tone was simplicity itself. “Never had no +mother. I mean the lady at the big house; the one that was married. She gave me +money to go out of Washington, and, wanting to be a soldier, I followed Curly +Jim. I didn’t think he’d die—he looked so strong— +What’s the matter, sir? Have I said anything I shouldn’t?” +</p> + +<p> +I had him by the arm. I fear that I was shaking him. +</p> + +<p> +“The lady!” I repeated. “She who was married—who gave +you money. Wasn’t it Mrs. Jeffrey?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I believe that was the name of the man she married. I didn’t +know <i>him;</i> but I saw <i>her</i>—” +</p> + +<p> +“Where? And why did she give you money? I will take you home with me if +you tell me the truth about it.” +</p> + +<p> +He glanced back at the tent from which I had slightly drawn him and a hungry +look crept into his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it’s no secret now,” he muttered. “He used to +say I must keep my mouth shut; but he wouldn’t say so now if he knew I +could get home by telling. He used to be sorry for me, he used. What do you +want to know?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why Mrs. Jeffrey gave you money to leave Washington.” +</p> + +<p> +The boy trembled, drew a step away, and then came back, and under those hot +Florida skies, in the turmoil of departing troops, I heard these words: +</p> + +<p> +“Because I heard what she said to Jim.” +</p> + +<p> +I felt my heart go down, then up, up, beyond anything I had ever experienced in +my whole life. The way before me was not closed then. A witness yet remained, +though Jim was dead. The boy was oblivious of my emotion; he was staring with +great mournfulness at the tent. +</p> + +<p> +“And what was that?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +His attention, which had been wandering, came back, and it was with some +surprise he said: +</p> + +<p> +“It was not much. She told him to take the gentleman into the library. +But it was the library where men died, and he just went and died there, too, +you remember, and Jim said he wasn’t ever going to speak of it, and so I +promised not to, neither, but—but—when do you think you will be +starting, sir?” +</p> + +<p> +I did not answer him. I was feeling very queer, as men feel, I suppose, who in +some crisis or event recognize an unexpected interposition of Providence. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you the boy who ran away from the florist’s in +Washington?” I inquired when ready to speak. “The boy who delivered +Miss Moore’s bridal bouquet?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +I let go of his hand and sat down. Surely there was a power greater than chance +governing this matter. Through what devious ways and from what unexpected +sources had I come upon this knowledge? +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Jeffrey, or Miss Moore, as she was then, told Jim to seat the +gentleman in the library,” I now said. “Why?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know. He told her the gentleman’s name and then she +whispered him that. I heard her, and that was why I got money, too. But +it’s all gone now. Oh, sir, <i>when</i> are you going back?” +</p> + +<p> +I started to my feet. Was it in answer to this appeal or because I realized +that I had come at last upon a clue calling for immediate action? +</p> + +<p> +“I am going now,” said I, “and you are going with me. Run! +for the train we take leaves inside of ten minutes. My business here is +over.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap20"></a>XX.<br /> +“THE COLONEL’S OWN”</h2> + +<p> +Words can not express the tediousness of that return journey. The affair which +occupied all my thoughts was as yet too much enveloped in mystery for me to +contemplate it with anything but an anxious and inquiring mind. While I clung +with new and persistent hope to the thread which had been put in my hand, I was +too conscious of the maze through which we must yet pass, before the light +could be reached, to feel that lightness of spirit which in itself might have +lessened the hours, and made bearable those days of forced inaction. To beguile +the way a little, I made a complete analysis of the facts as they appeared to +me in the light of this latest bit of evidence. The result was not strikingly +encouraging, yet I will insert it, if only in proof of my diligence and the +extreme interest I experienced in each and every stage of this perplexing +affair. It again took the form of a summary and read as follows: +</p> + +<p> +Facts as they now appear: +</p> + +<p> +1. The peremptory demand for an interview which had been delivered to Miss +Moore during the half-hour preceding her marriage had come, not from the +bridegroom as I had supposed, but from the so-called stranger, Mr. Pfeiffer. +</p> + +<p> +2. Her reply to this demand had been an order for that gentleman to be seated +in the library. +</p> + +<p> +3. The messenger carrying this order had been met and earnestly talked with by +Mr. Jeffrey either immediately before or immediately after the aforementioned +gentleman had been so seated. +</p> + +<p> +4. Death reached Mr. Pfeiffer before the bride did. +</p> + +<p> +5. Miss Moore remained in ignorance of this catastrophe till after her +marriage, no intimation of the same having been given her by the few persons +allowed to approach her before she descended to her nuptials; yet she was seen +to shrink unaccountably when her husband’s lips touched hers, and when +informed of the dreadful event before which she beheld all her guests fleeing, +went from the house a changed woman. +</p> + +<p> +6. For all this proof that Mr. Pfeiffer was well known to her, if not to the +rest of the bridal party, no acknowledgment of this was made by any of them +then or afterward, nor any contradiction given either by husband or wife to the +accepted theory that this seeming stranger from the West had gone into this +fatal room of the Moores’ to gratify his own morbid curiosity. +</p> + +<p> +7. On the contrary, an extraordinary effort was immediately made by Mr. Jeffrey +to rid himself of the only witnesses who could tell the truth concerning those +fatal ten minutes; but this brought no peace to the miserable wife, who never +again saw a really happy moment. +</p> + +<p> +8. Extraordinary efforts at concealment argue extraordinary causes for fear. +Fully to understand the circumstances of Mrs. Jeffrey’s death, it would +be necessary first to know what had happened in the Moore house when Mr. +Jeffrey learned from Curly Jim that the man, whose hold upon his bride had been +such that he dared to demand an interview with her just as she was on the point +of descending to her nuptials, had been seated, or was about to be seated, in +the room where death had once held its court and might easily be persuaded to +hold court again. +</p> + +<p> +This was the limit of my conclusions. I could get no further, and awaited my +arrival in Washington with the greatest impatience. But once there, and the +responsibility of this new inquiry shifted to broader shoulders than my own, I +was greatly surprised and as deeply chagrined to observe the whole affair lag +unaccountably and to note that, in spite of my so-called important discoveries, +the prosecution continued working up the case against Miss Tuttle in manifest +intention of presenting it to the grand jury at its fall sitting. +</p> + +<p> +Whether Durbin was to blame for this I could not say. Certainly his look was +more or less quizzical when next we met, and this nettled me so that I at once +came to the determination that whatever was in his mind, or in the minds of the +men whose counsels he undoubtedly shared, I was going to make one more great +effort on my own account; not to solve the main mystery, which had passed out +of my hands, but to reach the hidden cause of the equally unexplained deaths +which had occurred from time to time at the library fireplace. +</p> + +<p> +For nothing could now persuade me that the two mysteries were not indissolubly +connected, or that the elucidation of the one would not lead to the elucidation +of the other. +</p> + +<p> +To be sure, it was well accepted at headquarters that all possible attempts had +been made in this direction and with nothing but failure as a result. The +floor, the hearth, the chimney, and, above all, the old settle, had been +thoroughly searched. But to no avail. The secret had not been reached and had +almost come to be looked upon as insolvable. +</p> + +<p> +But I was not one to be affected by other men’s failures. The +encouragement afforded me by my late discoveries was such that I felt confident +that nothing could hinder my success save the necessity of completely pulling +down the house. Besides, all investigation had hitherto started, if it had not +ended, in the library. I was resolved to begin work in quite a different spot. +I had not forgotten the sensations I had experienced in the southwest chamber. +</p> + +<p> +During my absence this house had been released from surveillance. But the major +still held the keys and I had no difficulty in obtaining them. The next thing +was to escape its owner’s vigilance. This I managed to do through the +assistance of Jinny, and when midnight came and all lights went out in the +opposite cottage I entered boldly upon the scene. +</p> + +<p> +As before, I went first of all to the library. It was important to know at the +outset that this room was in its normal condition. But this was not my only +reason for prefacing my new efforts by a visit to this scene of death and +mysterious horror. I had another, so seemingly puerile, that I almost hesitate +to mention it and would not if the sequel warranted its omission. +</p> + +<p> +I wished to make certain that I had exhausted every suspected, as well as every +known clue, to the information I sought. In my long journey home and the hours +of thought it had forced upon me, I had more than once been visited by flitting +visions of things seen in this old house and afterward nearly forgotten. Among +these was the book which on that first night of hurried search had given proofs +of being in some one’s hand within a very short period. The attention I +had given it at a moment of such haste was necessarily cursory, and when later +a second opportunity was granted me of looking into it again, I had allowed a +very slight obstacle to deter me. This was a mistake I was anxious to rectify. +Anything which had been touched with purpose at or near the time of so +mysterious a tragedy,—and the position of this book on a shelf so high +that a chair was needed to reach it proved that it had been sought and touched +with purpose, held out the promise of a clue which one on so blind a trail as +myself could not afford to ignore. +</p> + +<p> +But when I had taken the book down and read again its totally uninteresting and +unsuggestive title and, by another reference to its dim and faded leaves, found +that my memory had not played me false and that it contained nothing but stupid +and wholly irrelevant statistics, my confidence in it as a possible aid in the +work I had in hand departed just as it had on the previous occasion. I was +about to put it back on the shelf, when I bethought me of running my hand in +behind the two books between which it had stood. Ah! that was it! Another book +lay flat against the wall at the back of the shelf; and when, by the removal of +those in front I was enabled to draw this book out, I soon saw why it had been +relegated to such a remote place of concealment on the shelves of the Moore +library. +</p> + +<p> +It was a collection of obscure memoirs written by an English woman, but an +English woman who had been in America during the early part of the century, and +who had been brought more or less into contact with the mysteries connected +with the Moore house in Washington. Several passages were marked, one +particularly, by a heavy pencil-line running the length of the margin. As the +name of Moore was freely scattered through these passages as well as through +two or three faded newspaper clippings which I discovered pasted on the inside +cover, I lost no time in setting about their perusal. +</p> + +<p> +The following extracts are from the book itself, taken in the order in which I +found them marked: +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“It was about this time that I spent a week in the Moore house; that +grand and historic structure concerning which and its occupants so many curious +rumors are afloat. I knew nothing then of its discreditable fame; but from the +first moment of my entrance into its ample and well lighted halls I experienced +a sensation which I will not call dread, but which certainly was far from being +the impulse of pure delight which the graciousness of my hostess and the +imposing character of the place itself were calculated to produce. This emotion +was but transitory, vanishing, as was natural, in the excitement of my welcome +and the extraordinary interest I took in Callista Moore, who in those days was +a most fascinating little body. Small to the point of appearing diminutive, and +lacking all assertion in manner and bearing, she was nevertheless such a lady +that she easily dominated all who approached her, and produced, quite against +her will I am sure, an impression of aloofness seasoned with kindness, which +made her a most surprising and entertaining study to the analytic observer. Her +position as nominal mistress of an establishment already accounted one of the +finest in Washington,—the real owner, Reuben Moore, preferring to live +abroad with his French wife,—gave to her least action an importance which +her shy, if not appealing looks, and a certain strained expression most +difficult to characterize, vainly attempted to contradict. I could not +understand her, and soon gave up the attempt; but my admiration held firm, and +by the time the evening was half over I was her obedient slave. I think from +what I know of her now that she would have preferred to be mine. +</p> + +<p> +“I was put to sleep in a great chamber which I afterward heard called +‘The Colonel’s Own.’ It was very grand and had a great bed in +it almost royal in its size and splendor. I believe that I shrank quite +unaccountably from this imposing piece of furniture when I first looked at it; +it seemed so big and so out of proportion to my slim little body. But +admonished by the look which I surprised on Mistress Callista’s high-bred +face, I quickly recalled an expression so unsuited to my position as guest, +and, with a gush of well-simulated rapture, began to expatiate upon the +interesting characteristics of the room, and express myself as delighted at the +prospect of sleeping there. +</p> + +<p> +“Instantly the nervous look left her, and, with the quiet remark, +‘It was my father’s room,’ she set down the candles with +which both her hands were burdened, and gave me a kiss so warm and surcharged +with feeling that it sufficed to keep me happy and comfortable for a half-hour +or more after she passed out. +</p> + +<p> +“I had thought myself a very sleepy girl, but when, after a somewhat +lengthened brooding over the dying embers in the open fireplace, I lay down +behind the curtains of the huge bed, I found myself as far from sleep as I had +ever been in my whole life. +</p> + +<p> +“And I did not recover from this condition for the entire night. For +hours I tossed from one side of the bed to the other in my efforts to avoid the +persistent eyes of a scarcely-to-be-perceived drawing facing me from the +opposite wall. It had no merit as a picture, this drawing, but seen as it was +under the rays of a gibbous moon looking in through the half-open shutter, it +exercised upon me a spell such as I can not describe and hope never again to +experience. Finally I rose and pulled the curtains violently together across +the foot of the bed. This shut out the picture; but I found it worse to imagine +it there with its haunting eyes peering at me through the intervening folds of +heavy damask than to confront it openly; so I pushed the curtains back again, +only to rise a half-hour later and twitch them desperately together once more. +</p> + +<p> +“I fidgeted and worried so that night that I must have looked quite pale +when my attentive hostess met me at the head of the stairs the next morning. +For her hand shook quite perceptibly as she grasped mine, and her voice was +pitched in no natural key as she inquired how I had slept. I replied, as truth, +if not courtesy, demanded, ‘Not as well as usual,’ whereupon her +eyes fell and she remarked quite hurriedly; ‘I am so sorry; you shall +have another room tonight,’ adding, in what appeared to be an unconscious +whisper: ‘There is no use; all feel it; even the young and the +gay;’ then aloud and with irrepressible anxiety: ‘You didn’t +<i>see</i> anything, dear?’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘No!’ I protested in suddenly awakened dismay; ‘only +the strange eyes of that queer drawing peering at me through the curtains of my +bed. Is it—is it a haunted room?’ +</p> + +<p> +“Her look was a shocked one, her protest quite vehement. ‘Oh, no! +No one has ever witnessed anything like a ghost there, but every one finds it +impossible to sleep in that bed or even in the room. I do not know why, unless +it is that my father spent so many weary years of incessant wakefulness inside +its walls.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘And did he die in that bed?’ I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“She gave a startled shiver, and drew me hurriedly downstairs. As we +paused at the foot, she pressed my hand and whispered: +</p> + +<p> +“‘Yes; at night; with the full of the moon upon him.’ +</p> + +<p> +“I answered her look with one she probably understood as little as I did +hers. I had heard of this father of hers. He had been a terrible old man and +had left a terrible memory behind him. +</p> + +<p> +“The next day my room was changed according to her promise, but in the +light of the charges I have since heard uttered against that house and the +family who inhabit it, I am glad that I spent one night in what, if it was not +a haunted chamber, had certainly a very thrilling effect upon its +occupants.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Second passage; the italics showing where it was most heavily marked. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“The house contained another room as interesting as the one I have +already mentioned. It went by the name of the library and its walls were +heavily lined with books; but the family never sat there, nor was I ever +fortunate enough to see it with its doors unclosed except on the occasion of +the grand reception Mistress Callista gave in my honor. I have a fancy for big +rooms and more than once urged my hostess to tell me why this one stood +neglected. But the lady was not communicative on this topic and it was from +another member of the household I learned that its precincts had been forever +clouded by the unexpected death within them of one of her father’s +friends, a noted army officer. +</p> + +<p> +“Why this should have occasioned a permanent disuse of the spot I could +not understand, and as every one who conversed on this topic invariably gave +the impression of saying less than the subject demanded, my curiosity soon +became too much for me and I attacked Miss Callista once again in regard to it. +She gave me a quick smile, for she was always amiable, but shook her head and +introduced another topic. But one night when the wind was howling in the +chimneys and the sense of loneliness was even greater than usual in the great +house, we drew together on the rug in front of my bedroom fire, and, as the +embers burned down to ashes before us, Miss Callista became more communicative. +</p> + +<p> +“Her heart was heavy, she told me; had been heavy for years. Perhaps some +ray of comfort would reach her if she took a friend into her confidence. God +knew that she needed one, especially on nights like this, when the wind woke +echoes all over the house and it was hard to tell which most to fear, the +sounds which came from no one knew where, or the silence which settled after. +</p> + +<p> +“She trembled as she said this, and instinctively drew nearer my side so +that our heads almost touched over the flickering flame from whose heat and +light we sought courage. She seemed to feel grateful for this contact, and the +next minute, flinging all her scruples to the wind, she began a relation of +events which more or less answered my late unwelcome queries. +</p> + +<p> +“The death in the library, about which her most perplexing memory hung, +took place when she was a child and her father held that high governmental +position which has reflected so much credit upon the family. Her father and the +man who thus perished had been intimate friends. They had fought together in +the War of 1812 and received the same distinguishing marks of presidential +approval afterward. They were both members of an important commission which +brought them into diplomatic relations with England. It was while serving on +this commission that the sudden break occurred which ended all intimate +relations between them, and created a change in her father that was equally +remarked at home and abroad. What occasioned this break no one knew. Whether +his great ambition had received some check through the jealousy of this +so-called friend—a supposition which did not seem possible, as he rose +rapidly after this—or on account of other causes darkly hinted at by his +contemporaries, but never breaking into open gossip, he was never the same man +afterwards. His children, who used to rush with effusion to greet him, now +shrank into corners at his step, or slid behind half open doors, whence they +peered with fearful interest at his tall figure, pacing in moody silence the +halls of his ancestral home, or sitting with frowning brows over the embers +dying away on the great hearthstone of his famous library. +</p> + +<p> +“Their mother, who was an invalid, did not share these terrors. The +father was ever tender of her, and the only smile they ever saw on his face +came with his entrance into her darkened room. +</p> + +<p> +“Such were Callista Moore’s first memories. Those which followed +were more definite and much more startling. President Jackson, who had a high +opinion of her father’s ability, advanced him rapidly. Finally a position +was given him which raised him into national prominence. As this had been the +goal of his ambition for years, he was much gratified by this appointment, and +though his smiles came no more frequently, his frowns lightened, and from being +positively threatening, became simply morose. +</p> + +<p> +“Why this moroseness should have sharpened into menace after an +unexpected visit from his once dear, but long estranged companion-in-arms, his +daughter, even after long years of constant brooding upon this subject, dares +not decide. If she could she might be happier. +</p> + +<p> +“The general was a kindly man, sharp of face and of a tall thin figure, +but with an eye to draw children and make them happy with a look. But his +effect on the father was different. From the moment the two met in the great +hall below, the temper of the host betrayed how little he welcomed this guest. +He did not fail in courtesy—the Moores are always gentlemen—but it +was a hard courtesy, which cut while it flattered. The two children, shrinking +from its edge without knowing what it was that hurt them, slunk to covert, and +from behind the two pillars which mark the entrance to the library, watched the +two men as they walked up and down the halls discussing the merits of this and +that detail of the freshly furnished mansion. These two innocent, but eager +spies, whom fear rather than curiosity held in hiding, even caught some of the +sentences which passed between the so-called friends; and though these +necessarily conveyed but little meaning to their childish minds, the words +forming them were never forgotten, as witness these phrases confided to me by +Mistress Callista twenty-five years afterward. +</p> + +<p> +“‘You have much that most men lack,’ remarked the general, as +they paused to admire some little specimen of Italian art which had been lately +received from Genoa. ‘You have money—too much money, Moore, by an +amount I might easily name—a home which some might call palatial, a +lovely, if not altogether healthy wife, two fine children, and all the honor +which a man in a commonwealth like this should ask for. <i>Drop +politics</i>.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Politics are my life,’ was the cold response. ‘To bid +me drop them is to bid me commit suicide.’ Then, as an afterthought to +which a moment of intervening silence added emphasis, ‘And for you to +drive me from them would be an act little short of murder.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Justice dealt upon a traitor is not murder,’ was the stern +and unyielding reply. ‘By one black deed of treacherous barter and sale, +of which none of your countrymen is cognizant but myself, you have forfeited +the confidence of this government. Were I, who so unhappily surprised your +secret, to allow you to continue in your present place of trust, I myself would +be a traitor to the republic for which I have fought and for which I am ready +to die. That is why I ask you to resign before—’ +</p> + +<p> +“The two children did not catch the threat latent in that last word, but +they realized the force of it from their father’s look and were surprised +when he quietly said: +</p> + +<p> +“‘You declare yourself to be the only man on the commission who is +acquainted with the facts you are pleased to style traitorous?’ +</p> + +<p> +“The general’s lips curled. ‘Have I not said?’ he +asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Something in this stern honesty seemed to affect the father. His face +turned away and it was the other’s voice which was next heard. A change +had taken place in it and it sounded almost mellow as it gave form to these +words: +</p> + +<p> +“‘Alpheus, we have been friends. You shall have two weeks in which +to think over my demand and decide. If at the end of that time you have not +returned to domestic life you may expect another visit from me which can not +fail of consequences. You know my temper when roused. Do not force me into a +position which will cause us both endless regret.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps the father answered; perhaps he did not. The children heard +nothing further, but they witnessed the gloom with which he rode away to the +White House the next day. Remembering the general’s threat, they imagined +in their childish hearts that their father had gone to give up his post and +newly acquired honors. But he returned at night without having done so, and +from that day on carried his head higher and showed himself more and more the +master, both at home and abroad. +</p> + +<p> +“But he was restless, very restless, and possibly to allay a great mental +uneasiness, he began having some changes made in the house; changes which +occupied much of his time and with which he never seemed satisfied. Men working +one day were dismissed the next and others called in until this work and +everything else was interrupted by the return of his late unwelcome guest, who +kept his appointment to a day. +</p> + +<p> +“At this point in her narrative Mistress Callista’s voice fell and +the flame which had thrown a partial light on her countenance died down until I +could but faintly discern the secretly inquiring look with which she watched me +as she went on to say +</p> + +<p> +“‘Reuben and I,’—Reuben was her +brother,—‘were posted in the dark corner under the stairs when my +father met the general at the door. We had expected to hear high words, or some +explosion of bitter feeling between them, and hardly knew whether to be glad or +sorry when our father welcomed his guest with the same elaborate bow we once +saw him make to the president in the grounds of the White House. Nor could we +understand what followed. We were summoned in to supper. Our mother was +there—a great event in those days—and toasts were drunk and our +father proposed one to the general’s health. This Reuben thought was an +open signal of peace, and turned upon me his great round eyes in surprise; but +I, who was old enough to notice that this toast was not responded to and that +the general did not even touch his lips to the glass he had lifted in +compliment to our mother, who had lifted hers, felt that there was something +terrifying rather than reassuring in this attempt at good fellowship. +</p> + +<p> +Though unable to reason over it at the time, I have often done so since, and my +father’s attitude and look as he faced this strange guest has dwelt so +persistently in my memory that scarcely a year passes without the scene coming +up in my dreams with its accompanying emotions of fear and perplexity. +For—perhaps you know the story—that hour was the general’s +last. He died before leaving the house; died in that same dark library +concerning which you have asked so many questions. +</p> + +<p> +“‘I remember the circumstances well, how well down to each and +every detail. Our mother had gone back to her room, and the general and my +father, who did not linger over their wine—why should they, when the +general would not drink?—had withdrawn to the library at the suggestion +of the general, whose last words are yet lingering in my ears. +</p> + +<p> +“‘The time has come for our little talk,’ said he. +‘Your reception augurs—’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘You do not look well,’ my father here broke in, in what +seemed an unnaturally loud voice. ‘Come and sit down—’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Here the door closed. +</p> + +<p> +“‘We had hung about this door, curious children that we were, in +hopes of catching a glimpse of the queer new settle which had been put into +place that day. But we scampered away at this, and were playing in and out of +the halls when the library door again opened and my father came out. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Where’s Samba?’ he cried. ‘Tell him to carry a +glass of wine in to the general. I do not like his looks. I am going upstairs +for some medicine.’ This he whispered in choked tones as he set foot on +the stairs. Why I remember it I do not know, for Reuben, who was standing where +he could look into the library when our father came out and saw the settle and +the general sitting at one end of it, was chattering about it in my ear at the +very moment our father was giving his orders. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Reuben is a man now, and I have asked him more than once since +then how the general looked at that critical instant. It is important to me, +very, very important, and to him, too, now that he has come to know a +man’s passions and temptations. But he will never tell me, never relieve +my mind, and I can only hope that there were real signs of illness on the +general’s brow; for then I could feel that all had been right and that +his death was the natural result of the great distress he felt at opposing my +father in the one desire of his heart. That glimpse which Reuben had of him +before he fell has always struck me with strange pathos. A little child looking +in upon a man, who, for all his apparent health, will in another moment be in +eternity—I do not wonder he does not like to talk of it, and yet— +</p> + +<p> +“‘It was Samba who came upon the general first. Our father had not +yet descended. When he did, it was with loud cries and piteous ejaculations. +Word had gone upstairs and surprised him in the room with my mother. I +recollect wondering in all childish simplicity why he wrung his hands so over +the death of a man he so hated and feared. Nor was it till years had passed and +our mother had been laid in the grave and the house had settled into a gloom +too heavy and somber for Reuben to endure, that I recognized in my father the +signs of a settled remorse. These I endeavored to account for by the fact that +he had been saved from what he looked upon as political death by the sudden but +opportune decease of his best friend. This caused a shock to his feelings which +had unnerved him for life. Don’t you think this the true explanation of +his invariably moody brow and the great distaste he always showed for this same +library? Though he would live in no other house, he would not enter that room +nor look at the gloomy settle from which the general had fallen to his death. +The place was virtually tabooed, and though, as the necessity arose, it was +opened from time to time for great festivities, the shadow it had acquired +never left it and my father hated its very door until he died. Is it not +natural that his daughter should share this feeling?’ +</p> + +<p> +“It was, and I said so; but I would say no more, though she cast me +little appealing looks which acquired an eery significance from the pressure of +her small fingers on my arm and the wailing sound of the wind which at that +moment blew down in one gust, scattering the embers and filling the house with +banshee calls. I simply kissed her and advised her to go back with me to +England and forget this old house and all its miserable memories. For that was +the sum of the comfort at my poor command. When, after another restless night, +I crept down in the early morning to peer into the dim and unused room whose +story I had at last learned, I can not say but that I half expected to behold +the meager ghost of the unfortunate general rise from the cushions of the +prodigious bench which still kept its mysterious watch over the deserted +hearthstone.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +So much for the passages culled from the book itself. The newspaper excerpts, +to which I next turned, bore a much later date, and read as follows: +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“A strange coincidence marks the death of Albert Moore in his +brother’s house yesterday. He was discovered lying with his head on the +identical spot where General Lloyd fell forty years before. It is said that +this sudden demise of a man hitherto regarded as a model of physical strength +and endurance was preceded by a violent altercation with his elder brother. If +this is so, the excitement incident upon such a break in their usually pleasant +relations may account for his sudden death. Edward Moore, <i>who, +unfortunately, was out of the room when his brother succumbed—some say +that he was in his grandfather’s room above</i>—was greatly +unnerved by this unexpected end to what was probably merely a temporary +quarrel, and now lies in a critical condition. +</p> + +<p> +“The relations between him and the deceased Albert have always been of +the most amicable character until they unfortunately fell in love with the same +woman.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Attached to this was another slip, apparently from a later paper. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“The quarrel between the two brothers Moore, just prior to the younger +one’s death, turns out to have been of a more serious nature than was +first supposed. It has since leaked out that an actual duel was fought at that +time between these two on the floor of the old library; and that in this duel +the elder one was wounded. Some even go so far as to affirm that the +lady’s hand was to be the reward of him who drew the first blood; it +<i>is no longer denied that the room was in great disorder when the servants +first rushed in at the sound he made in falling</i>. Everything movable had +been pushed back against the wall and an open space cleared, in the center of +which could be seen one drop of blood. What is certain is that Mr. Moore is +held to the house by something even more serious than his deep grief, and that +the young lady who was the object of this fatal dispute has left the +city.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Pasted under this was the following short announcement: +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“Married on the twenty-first of January, at the American consulate in +Rome, Italy, Edward Moore, of Washington, D. C., United States of America, to +Antoinette Sloan, daughter of Joseph Dewitt Sloan, also of that city.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +With this notice my interest in the book ceased and I prepared to step down +from the chair on which I had remained standing during the reading of the above +passages. +</p> + +<p> +As I did so I spied a slip of paper lying on the floor at my feet. As it had +not been there ten minutes before there could be little doubt that it had +slipped from the book whose leaves I had been turning over so rapidly. +Hastening to recover it, I found it to be a sheet of ordinary note paper partly +inscribed with words in a neat and distinctive handwriting. This was a great +find, for the paper was fresh and the handwriting one which could be readily +identified. What I saw written there was still more remarkable. It had the look +of some of the memoranda I had myself drawn up during the most perplexing +moments of this strange case. I transcribe it just as it read: +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“We have here two separate accounts of how death comes to those who +breathe their last on the ancestral hearthstone of the Moore house library. +</p> + +<p> +“Certain facts are emphasized in both: +</p> + +<p> +“Each victim was alone when he fell. +</p> + +<p> +“Each death was preceded by a scene of altercation or violent controversy +between the victim and the alleged master of these premises. +</p> + +<p> +“In each case the master of the house reaped some benefit, real or +fancied, from the other’s death.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +A curious set of paragraphs. Some one besides myself was searching for the very +explanation I was at that moment intent upon. I should have considered it the +work of our detectives if the additional lines I now came upon could have been +written by any one but a Moore. But no one of any other blood or associations +could have indited the amazing words which followed. The only excuse I could +find for them was the difficulty which some men feel in formulating their +thoughts otherwise than with pen and paper, they were so evidently intended for +the writer’s eye and understanding only, as witness: +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“Let me recall the words my father was uttering when my brother rushed in +upon us with that account of my misdeeds which changed all my prospects in +life. It was my twenty-first birthday and the old man had just informed me that +as the eldest son I might expect the house in which we stood to be mine one day +and with it a secret which has been handed down from father to son ever since +the Moores rose to eminence in the person of Colonel Alpheus. Then he noted +that I was now of age and immediately went on to say: ‘This means that +you must be told certain facts, without the knowledge of which you would be no +true Moore. These facts you must hereafter relate to your son or whoever may be +fortunate enough to inherit from you. It is the legacy which goes with this +house and one which no inheritor as yet has refused either to receive or to +transmit. Listen. You have often noted the gold filigree ball which I wear on +my watch-guard. This ball is the talisman of our house, of this house. If, in +the course of your life you find yourself in an extremity from which no issue +seems possible mind the strictness of the injunction—an extremity from +which no issue seems possible (I have never been in such a case; the gold +filigree ball has never been opened by me) you will take this trinket from its +chain, press upon this portion of it so, and use what you will find inside, in +connection with—’ Alas! it was at this point John Judson came +rushing in and those disclosures were made which lost me my father’s +regard and gave to the informer my rightful inheritance, together with the full +secret of which I only got a part. But that part must help me now to the whole. +I have seen the filigree ball many times; Veronica has it now. But its contents +have never been shown me. If I knew what they were and why the master of this +secret always left the library—” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Here the memorandum ceased with a long line straggling from the letter y as if +the writer had been surprised at his task. +</p> + +<p> +The effect upon me of these remarkable words was to heighten my interest and +raise me into a state of renewed hope, if not of active expectation. +</p> + +<p> +Another mind than my own had been at work along the only groove which held out +any promise of success, and this mind, having at its command certain family +traditions, had let me into a most valuable secret. Another mind! Whose mind? +That was a question easily answered. But one man could have written these +words; the man who was thrust aside in early life in favor of his younger +brother, and who now, by the sudden death of that brother’s daughter, had +come again into his inheritance. Uncle David, and he only, was the puzzled +inquirer whose self-communings I had just read. This fact raised a new problem +far me to work upon, and I could but ask when these lines were +written—before or after Mr. Pfeiffer’s death and whether he had +ever succeeded in solving the riddle he had suggested, or whether it was still +a baffling mystery to him. I was so moved by the suggestion conveyed in his +final and half-finished sentence, that I soon lost sight of these lesser +inquiries in the more important one connected with the filigree ball. For I had +seen this filigree ball. I had even handled it. From the description given I +was very certain that it had been one of the many trinkets I had observed lying +on the dressing table when I made my first hasty examination of the room on the +evening of Mrs. Jeffrey’s death. Why had no premonition of its importance +as a connecting link between these tragedies and their mysterious cause come to +me at the time when it was within reach of my hand? It was too late now. It had +been swept away with the other loose objects littering the place, and my +opportunity for pursuing this very promising investigation was gone for the +night. +</p> + +<p> +Yet it was with a decided feeling of triumph that I finally locked the door of +this old mansion behind me. Certainly I had taken a step forward since my +entrance there, to which I had but to add another of equal importance to merit +the attention of the superintendent himself. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap21"></a>XXI.<br /> +THE HEART OF THE PUZZLE.</h2> + +<p> +The next morning I swallowed my pride and sought out Durbin. He had +superintended the removal of Mrs. Jeffrey’s effects from the southwest +chamber, and should know, if any one, where this filigree ball was now to be +found. Doubtless it had been returned with the other things to Mr. Jeffrey, and +yet, who knows? Durbin is sly and some inkling of its value as a clue may have +entered his mind. If so, it would be anywhere but in Mr. Jeffrey’s or +Miss Tuttle’s possession. +</p> + +<p> +To test my rival’s knowledge of and interest in this seemingly trivial +object, I stooped to what I can but consider a pardonable subterfuge. Greeting +him in the offhand way least likely to develop his suspicion, I told him that I +had a great idea in connection with the Jeffrey case and that the clue to it +lay in a little gold ball which Mrs. Jeffrey sometimes wore and upon which she +set great store. So far I spoke the truth. It had been given her by some +one—not Mr. Jeffrey—and I believed, though I did not know, that it +contained a miniature portrait which it might be to our advantage to see. +</p> + +<p> +I expected his lip to curl; but for a wonder it maintained its noncommittal +aspect, though I was sure that I caught a slight, very slight, gleam of +curiosity lighting up for a moment his calm, gray eye. +</p> + +<p> +“You are on a fantastic trail,” he sneered, and that was all. +</p> + +<p> +But I had not expected more. I had merely wished to learn what place, if any, +this filigree ball held in his own suspicions, and in case he had overlooked +it, to jog his curiosity so that he would in some way betray its whereabouts. +</p> + +<p> +That, for all its seeming inconsequence, it did hold some place in his mind was +evident enough to those who knew him; but that it was within reach or +obtainable by any ordinary means was not so plain. Indeed, I very soon became +convinced that he, for one, had no idea where it was, or after the suggestive +hint I had given him he would never have wasted a half-hour on me. What was I +to do then? Tell my story to the major and depend on him to push the matter to +its proper conclusion? “Not yet,” whispered pride. “Durbin +thinks you a fool. Wait till you can show your whole hand before calling +attention to your cards.” But it was hard not to betray my excitement and +to act the fool they considered me when the boys twitted me about this famous +golden charm and asked what great result had followed my night in the Moore +house. But remembering that he who laughs last laughs best, and that the cause +of mirth was not yet over between Durbin and myself, I was able to preserve an +impassive exterior even when I came under the major’s eye. I found myself +amply repaid when one of the boys who had studiously avoided chaffing me +dropped the following words in my ear: +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know what your interest is in the small gold charm you +were talking about, but you have done some good work in this case and I +don’t mind telling you what I know about it. That little gold ball has +caused the police much trouble. It is on the list of effects found in the room +where the candle was seen burning; but when all these petty belongings of Mrs. +Jeffrey’s were gathered up and carried back to her husband, this special +one was not to be found amongst them. It was lost in transit, nor has it ever +been seen since. And who do you think it was who called attention to this loss +and demanded that the article be found? Not Mr. Jeffrey, who seems to lay +little or no stress upon it, but the old man they call Uncle David. He who, to +all appearance, possessed no interest in his niece’s personal property, +was on hand the moment these things were carried into her husband’s +house, with the express intention, it seems, of inquiring for this gold ball, +which he declared to be a family heirloom. As such it belonged to him as the +present holder of the property, and to him only. Attention being thus called to +it, it was found to be missing, and as no one but the police seemed to be to +blame for its loss the matter was hushed up and would have been regarded as too +insignificant for comment, the trinket being intrinsically worthless, if Mr. +Moore had not continued to make such a fuss about it. This ball, he declared, +was worth as much to a Moore as all the rest of his property, which was bosh, +you know; and the folly of these assertions and the depth of the passions he +displayed whenever the subject was mentioned have made some of us question if +he is the innocent inheritor he has tried to make himself out. At all events, I +know for a certainty that the district attorney holds his name in reserve, if +the grand jury fails to bring in an indictment against Miss Tuttle.” +</p> + +<p> +“The district attorney is wise,” I remarked, and fell athinking. +</p> + +<p> +Had this latent suspicion against Mr. Moore any solid foundation? Was he the +guilty man? The memorandum I had come across in the book which had been lately +pulled down from the library shelves showed that, notwithstanding his testimony +to the contrary, he had been in that house close upon that fatal night, if not +on the very night itself. It also showed his extreme interest in the traditions +of the family. But did it show anything more? Had he interrupted his writing to +finish his query in blood, and had one of his motives for this crime been the +acquisition of this filigree ball? If so, why had he left it on the table +upstairs? A candle had been lit in that room—could it have been by him in +his search for this object? It would be a great relief to believe so. What was +the reason then that my mind refused so emphatically to grasp this possibility +and settle upon him as the murderer of Mrs. Jeffrey? I can not tell. I hated +the man, and I likewise deeply distrusted him. But I could not, even after this +revelation of his duplicity, connect him in my thoughts with absolute crime +without a shock to my intuitions. Happily, my scruples were not shared by my +colleagues. They had listed him. Here I felt my shoulder touched, and a +newspaper was thrust into my hand by the man who had just addressed me. +</p> + +<p> +“Look down the lost and found column,” said he. “The third +advertisement you will see there came from the district attorney’s +office; the next one was inserted by Mr. Moore himself.” +</p> + +<p> +I followed his pointing finer and read two descriptions of the filigree ball. +The disproportion in the rewards offered was apparent. That promised by Uncle +David was calculated to rouse any man’s cupidity and should have resulted +in the bauble’s immediate return. +</p> + +<p> +“He got ahead of the police that time,” I laughed. “When did +these advertisements appear?” +</p> + +<p> +“During the days you were absent from Washington.” +</p> + +<p> +“And how sure are you that he did not get this jewel back?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, we are sure. His continued anxiety and still active interest prove +this, even if our surveillance had been less perfect.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the police have been equally unsuccessful?” +</p> + +<p> +“Equally.” +</p> + +<p> +“After every effort?” +</p> + +<p> +“Every.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who was the man who collected and carried out those things from the +southwest chamber?” +</p> + +<p> +He smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“You see him,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“It was you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you are sure this small ball was among them?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. I only know that I have seen it somewhere, but that it wasn’t +among the articles I delivered to Mr. Jeffrey.” +</p> + +<p> +“How did you carry them?” +</p> + +<p> +“In a hand-bag which I locked myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Before leaving the southwest chamber?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then it is still in that room?” +</p> + +<p> +“Find it,” was his laconic reply. +</p> + +<p> +Here most men would have stopped, but I have a bulldog’s tenacity when +once I lay hold. That night I went back to the Moore house and, taking every +precaution against being surprised by the sarcastic Durbin or some of his many +flatterers, I ransacked the southwest chamber on my own behalf for what +certainly I had little reason to expect to find there. +</p> + +<p> +It seemed a hopeless cause from the first, but I acted as if no one had hunted +for this object before. Moving every article, I sought first on the open floor +and then in every possible cranny for the missing trinket. But I failed to find +it and was about to acknowledge myself defeated when my eye fell on the long +brocaded curtains which I had drawn across the several windows to hide every +gleam of light from the street. They were almost free from folds, but I shook +them well, especially the one nearest the table, and naturally with no effect. +</p> + +<p> +“Folly,” I muttered, yet did not quite desist. For the great +tassels still hung at the sides and— Well! you may call it an impossible +find or say that if the bauble was there it should have been discovered in the +first search for it! I will not say no. I can only tell you what happened. When +I took one of those tassels in my band, I thought, as it twirled under my +touch, that I saw something gleam in its faded old threads which did not belong +there. Startled, and yet not thoroughly realizing that I had come upon the +object of my search, I picked at this thing and found it to be a morsel of gold +chain that had become entangled in it. When I had pulled it out, it showed a +small golden ball at one end, filigreed over and astonishingly heavy for its +size and apparent delicacy. +</p> + +<p> +How it came there—whether it rolled from the table, or was swept off +inadvertently by the detective’s hand, and how it came to be caught by +this old tassel and held there in spite of the many shakings it must have +received, did not concern me at this momentous instant. The talisman of this +old family was found. I had but to discover what it held concealed to +understand what had baffled Mr. Moore and made the mystery he had endeavored to +penetrate so insolvable. Rejoicing in my triumph, but not wasting a moment in +self-congratulation, I bent over the candle with my prize and sought for the +clasp or fastening which held its two parts together. I have a knack at clasps +and curious fastenings and was able at first touch to spring this one open. And +what did I find inside? Something so different from what I expected, something +so trivial and seemingly harmless, that it was not until I recalled the final +words of Uncle David’s memorandum that I realized its full import and the +possibilities it suggested. In itself it was nothing but a minute magnifying +glass; but when used in connection with—what? Ah, that was just what +Uncle David failed to say, possibly to know. Yet this was now the important +point, the culminating fact which might lead to a full understanding of these +many tragedies. Could I hope to guess what presented itself to Mr. Moore as a +difficult if not insolvable problem? No; guessing would not answer. I must +trust to the inspiration of the moment which suggested with almost irresistible +conviction: +</p> + +<p> +<i>The picture! That inane and seemingly worthless drawing over the fireplace +in The Colonel’s Own, whose presence in so rich a room has always been a +mystery!</i> +</p> + +<p> +Why this object should have suggested itself to me and with such instant +conviction, I can not readily say. Whether, from my position near the bed, the +sight of this old drawing recalled the restless nights of all who had lain in +face of its sickly smile, or whether some recollection of that secret law of +the Moores which forbade the removal of any of their pictures from the +time-worn walls, or a remembrance of the curiosity which this picture excited +in every one who looked at it—Francis Jeffrey among the number—I no +sooner asked myself what object in this house might possibly yield counsel or +suggest aid when subjected to the influence of a magnifying glass, than the +answer, which I have already given, sprang instantly into my mind: The picture! +</p> + +<p> +Greatly excited, I sprang upon a chair, took down the drawing from the wall and +laid it face up on the bed. Then I placed the glass over one of the large coils +surrounding the insipid face, and was startled enough, in spite of all mental +preparation, to perceive the crinkly lines which formed it, resolve themselves +into script and the script into words, some of which were perfectly legible. +</p> + +<p> +The drawing, simple as it looked, was a communication in writing to those who +used a magnifying glass to read it. I could hardly contain my triumph, hardly +find the self-control necessary to a careful study of its undulating and often +conflicting lines and to the slow picking out of the words therein contained. +</p> + +<p> +But when I had done this, and had copied the whole of the wandering scrawl on a +page of my note book the result was of value. +</p> + +<p> +Read, and judge for yourself. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“Coward that I am, I am willing to throw upon posterity the shadow of a +crime whose consequences I dare not incur in life. Confession I must make. To +die and leave no record of my deed is impossible. Yet how tell my story so that +only my own heirs may read and they when at the crisis of their fate? I believe +I have found the way by this drawing and the injunction I have left to the +holders of the filigree ball. +</p> + +<p> +“No man ever wished his enemy dead more than I did, and no man ever spent +more cunning on the deed. Master in my own house, I contrived a device by which +the man who held my fate in his hands fell on my library hearth with no one +near and no sign by which to associate me with the act. Does this seem like the +assertion of a madman? Go to the old chamber familiarly called “The +Colonel’s Own.” Enter its closet, pull out its two drawers, and in +the opening thus made seek for the loophole at the back, through which, if you +stoop low enough, you can catch a glimpse of the library hearth and its great +settle. With these in view, slip your finger along the wall on your right and +when it touches an obstruction—pass it if it is a handle, for that is +only used to rewind the apparatus and must be turned from you until it can be +turned no farther; but if it is a depression you encounter, press, and press +hard on the knob concealed within it. But beware when any one you love is +seated in that corner of the settle where the cushion invites rest, lest it be +your fate to mourn and wail as it is mine to curse the hour when I sought to +clear my way by murder. For the doom of the man of blood is upon me. The +hindrance is gone from my life, but a horror has entered it beyond the +conception of any soul that has not yielded itself to the unimaginable +influences emanating from an accomplished crime. <i>I can not be content with +having pressed that spring once</i>. A mania is upon me which, after thirty +years of useless resistance and superhuman struggle, still draws me from bed +and sleep to rehearse in ghastly fashion that deed of my early manhood. I can +not resist it. To tear out the deadly mechanism, unhinge weight and drum and +rid the house of every evidence of crime would but drive me to shriek my guilt +aloud and act in open pantomime what I now go through in fearsome silence and +secrecy. When the hour comes, as come it must, that I can not rise and enter +that fatal closet, I shall still enact the deed in dreams, and shriek aloud in +my sleep and wish myself dead and yet fear to die lest my hell be to go through +all eternity, slaying over and over my man, in ever growing horror and +repulsion. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you wish to share my fate? Try to effect through blood a release from +the difficulties menacing you.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap22"></a>XXII.<br /> +A THREAD IN HAND</h2> + +<p> +There are moments which stand out with intense force and clearness in every +man’s life. Mine was the one which followed the reading of these lines +which were meant for a warning, but which in more than one case had manifestly +served to open the way to a repetition of the very crime they deplored. I felt +myself under the same fascination. I wanted to test the mechanism; to follow +out then and there the instructions given with such shortsighted minuteness and +mark the result. But a sense of decorum prevented. It was clearly my duty to +carry so important a discovery as this to the major and subject myself to his +commands before making the experiment suggested by the scroll I had so +carefully deciphered. Besides, it would be difficult to carry out this +experiment alone, and with no other light than that afforded by my lantern. +Another man and more lights were needed. +</p> + +<p> +Influenced by these considerations, I restored the picture to its place, and +left the building. As I did so, the first signs of dawn became visible in the +east. I had expended three hours in picking out the meaning concealed in the +wavy lines of the old picture. +</p> + +<p> +I was early at headquarters that morning, but not so early as to find the +superintendent alone. A group of men were already congregated about him in his +small office, and when, on being admitted, I saw amongst them the district +attorney, Durbin and another famous detective, I instinctively knew what matter +was under discussion. +</p> + +<p> +I was allowed to remain, possibly because I brought news in my face, possibly +because the major felt more kindly toward me than I thought. Though Durbin, who +had been speaking, had at first sight of me shut his mouth like a trap, and +even went so far as to drum an impatient protest with his fingers on the table +before which he stood, neither the major nor the district attorney turned an +unkindly face toward me, and my amiable friend was obliged to accept my +presence with what grace he could. +</p> + +<p> +There was with them a fourth man, who stood apart. On him the general attention +had been concentrated at my entrance and to him it now returned. He was an +unpretentious person of kindly aspect. To any one accustomed to Washington +residents, he bore the unmistakable signs of being one of the many departmental +employees whose pay is inadequate to the necessities of his family. Of his +personal peculiarities I noted two. He blinked when he talked, and stuttered +painfully when excited. Notwithstanding these defects he made a good +impression, and commanded confidence. This I soon saw was of importance, for +the story he now entered upon was one calculated to make me forget my own +errand and even to question my own convictions. +</p> + +<p> +The first intimation I received of the curious nature of his communication was +through the following questions, put to him by the major: +</p> + +<p> +“You are sure this gentleman is identical with the one pointed out to you +last night?” +</p> + +<p> +“Very sure, sir. I can swear to it.” +</p> + +<p> +I omit all evidence of the defect in his speech above mentioned. +</p> + +<p> +“You recognize him positively?” +</p> + +<p> +“Positively. I should have picked him out with the same assurance, if I +had seen him in some other city and in a crowd of as fine-looking gentlemen as +himself. His face made a great impression on me. You see I had ample time to +study it in the few minutes we stood so close together.” +</p> + +<p> +“So you have said. Will you be kind enough to repeat the circumstance? I +should like the man who has just come in to hear your description of this +scene. Give the action, please. It is all very interesting.” +</p> + +<p> +The stranger glanced inquisitively in my direction, and turned to obey the +superintendent. +</p> + +<p> +“I was returning to my home in Georgetown, on the evening of May the +eleventh, the day of the great tragedy. My wife was ill, and I had been into +town to see a physician and should have gone directly home; but I was curious +to see how high the flood was running—you remember it was over the banks +that night. So I wandered out on the bridge, and came upon the gentleman about +whom you have been questioning me. He was standing all alone leaning on the +rail thus.” Here the speaker drew up a chair, and, crossing his arms over +its back, bent his head down over them. “I did not know him, but the way +he eyed the water leaping and boiling in a yellow flood beneath was not the way +of a curious man like myself, but of one who was meditating some desperate +deed. He was handsome and well dressed, but he looked a miserable wretch and +was in a state of such complete self-absorption that he did not notice me, +though I had stopped not five feet from his side. I expected to see him throw +himself over, but instead of that, he suddenly raised his head and, gazing +straight before him, not at the heavy current, but at some vision in his own +mind, broke forth in these words, spoken as I had never heard words spoken +before—” +</p> + +<p> +Here the speaker’s stuttering got the better of him and the district +attorney had time to say: +</p> + +<p> +“What were these words? Speak them slowly; we have all the time there +is.” +</p> + +<p> +Instantly the man plucked up heart and, eying us all impressively, was able to +say: +</p> + +<p> +“They were these: ‘She must die! <i>she must die!</i>’ No +name, but just the one phrase twice repeated, ‘<i>She must +die!</i>’ This startled me, and hardly knowing whether to lay hands on +him, or to turn about and run, I was moving slowly away, when he drew his arms +from the rail, like this, and, still staring into space, added, in the same +hard and determined voice, this one word more, ‘To-night!’; and, +wheeling about, passed me with one blank and wholly unconscious look and betook +himself toward the city. As he went by, his lips opened for the third time. +‘Which means—’ he cried, between a groan and a shriek, +‘a bullet for her and—’ I wish I had heard the rest, but he +was out of my hearing before his sentence was finished.” +</p> + +<p> +“What time was this?” +</p> + +<p> +“As near half-past five as possible. It was six when I reached home a few +minutes later.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, he must have gone to the cemetery after this.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am quite sure of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why didn’t you follow the man?” grumbled Durbin. +</p> + +<p> +“It wasn’t my business. He was a stranger and possibly mad. I +didn’t know what to do.” +</p> + +<p> +“What did you do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Went home and kept quiet; my wife was very ill that night and I had my +own cause for anxiety.” +</p> + +<p> +“You, however, read the papers next morning?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir, nor for many days. My wife grew constantly worse and for a week +I didn’t leave her, not knowing but that every breath would be her last. +I was dead to everything outside the sick-room and when she grew better, which +was very gradually, we had to take her away, so that I had no opportunity of +speaking of this occurrence to any one till a week ago, when some remark, +published in connection with Mrs. Jeffrey’s death, recalled that +encounter on the bridge. I told a neighbor that I believed the man I had seen +there was Mr. Jeffrey, and we looked up the papers and ran over them till we +came upon his picture. That settled it, and I could no longer—being free +from home anxieties now—hold my tongue and the police heard—” +</p> + +<p> +“That will do, Mr. Gelston,” broke in the major. “When we +want you again, we will let you know. Durbin, see Mr. Gelston out.” +</p> + +<p> +I was left alone with the major and the district attorney. +</p> + +<p> +There was a moment’s silence, during which my own heart beat so loud that +I was afraid they would hear it. Since taking up Miss Tuttle’s cause I +had never really believed in Mr. Jeffrey’s innocence in spite of the +alibi he had brought forward, and now I expected to hear these men utter the +same conviction. The major was the first to speak. Addressing the district +attorney, he remarked: “This will strengthen your case very materially. +We have proof now that Mrs. Jeffrey’s death was actually determined upon. +If Miss Tuttle had not shot her, he would. I wonder if it was a relief to him +on reaching his door to find that the deed was done.” +</p> + +<p> +I could not suppress my surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Tuttle!” I repeated. “Is it so unmistakably evident +that Mr. Jeffrey did not get to the Moore house in time to do the shooting +himself?” +</p> + +<p> +The major gave me a quick look. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought you considered Miss Tuttle the guilty one.” +</p> + +<p> +I felt that the time had come to show my colors. +</p> + +<p> +“I have changed my mind,” said I. “I can give you no good +reason for this; something in the woman herself, I suppose. She does not look +nor act like a criminal. While not desirous of raising myself in opposition to +the judgment of those so greatly my superior in all respects, I have had this +feeling, and I am courageous enough to avow it. And yet, if Mr. Jeffrey could +not have left the cemetery gates and reached the Moore house in time to fulfil +all the conditions of this tragedy, the case does look black against the woman. +She admits to having been there when the pistol was fired, unless—” +</p> + +<p> +“Unless what? You have something new to tell us. That I have seen ever +since you entered the room. What is it?” +</p> + +<p> +I cast a glance at the door. Should I be able to finish my story before Durbin +returned? I thought it possible, and, though still upset by this new evidence, +which I could now see was not entirely in Miss Tuttle’s favor, I spoke up +with what spirit I might. +</p> + +<p> +“I have just come from spending another night in the Moore house. All the +efforts heretofore made to exhaust its secrets have been founded upon a theory +that has brought us nowhere. I had another in mind, and I was anxious to test +it before resting from all further attempt to solve this riddle. And it has not +failed me. By pursuing a clue apparently so trivial that I allowed it to go +neglected for weeks, I have come upon the key to the many mysterious crimes +which have defiled the library hearthstone. And where do you think it lies? Not +in the hearthstone itself and not in the floor under the settle; not, in fact, +in the library at all, but in the picture hanging upstairs in the southwest +chamber.” +</p> + +<p> +“The picture! that faded-out sketch, fit only for the garret?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. To you and to most people surveying it, it is just what you say and +nothing more. But to the initiated few—pray Heaven they may have been +few—it is writing, conveying secret instructions. The whole combination +of curves which go to make up this sketch is a curious arrangement of words +inscribed with the utmost care, in the smallest of characters. Viewed with a +magnifying glass, the uncertain outlines of a shadowy face surmounted by a mass +of piled-up hair resolve themselves into lines of writing, the words of which +are quite intelligible and full of grim and unmistakable purpose. I have read +those lines; and what is more, I have transcribed them into plain copy. Will +you read them? They contain a most extraordinary confession; a confession that +was manifestly intended as a warning, but which unfortunately has had very +different results. It may explain the death of the man from Denver, even if it +cast no light upon the other inexplicable features of the remarkable case we +are considering.” +</p> + +<p> +As I spoke I laid open on the table before me the transcription of which I +spoke. Instantly the two men bent over it. When they looked up again, their +countenances showed not excitement only but appreciation; and in the one minute +of triumph which I then enjoyed, all that had wounded or disturbed me in the +past was forgotten. +</p> + +<p> +“You are a man in a thousand,” was the major’s first +enthusiastic comment; at which I was conscious of regretting, with very +pardonable inconsistency, that Durbin had not returned in time to hear these +words. +</p> + +<p> +The major now proposed that we should go at once to the old house. “A +family secret like this does not crop up every day even in a city so full of +surprises as Washington. We will hunt for the spring under the closet drawers +and see what happens, eh? And on our way there”—here he turned to +me “I should like to hear the particulars concerning the little clue just +mentioned. By the way, Mr. Jeffrey’s interest in this old drawing is now +explained. He knew its diabolical secret.” +</p> + +<p> +This was self-evident, and my heart was heavy for Miss Tuttle, who seemed to be +so deep in her brother-in-law’s confidence. +</p> + +<p> +It grew still heavier when Durbin, joining us, added his incredulity to the air +of suspicion assumed by the others. Through all the explanations I now entered +into, I found myself inwardly repeating with somewhat forced iteration, +“I will not believe her guilty under any circumstances. She carries the +look of innocence, and innocent she must be proved, whatever the result may be +to Francis Jeffrey.” +</p> + +<p> +To such an extent had I been influenced by the lofty expression which I had +once surprised on her face. +</p> + +<p> +Had Mr. David Moore been sitting open-eyed behind his vines that morning, he +would have been much surprised to see so many of his natural enemies intrude on +his property at so early an hour. But, happily, he had not yet risen, and we +were able to enter upon our investigations without being watched or interrupted +by him. +</p> + +<p> +Our first move was to go in a body to the southwest chamber, take down the +picture, examine it with a magnifying-glass and satisfy ourselves that the +words I had picked out of its mazy lines were really to be found there. This +done and my veracity established, we next proceeded to the closet where, +according to the instructions embodied in this picture, the secret spring was +to be found by which some unknown and devilish machinery would be released in +the library below. +</p> + +<p> +To my great satisfaction the active part in this experiment was delegated to +me. Durbin continued to be a mere looker-on. Drawing out the two large drawers +from their place at the end of this closet, I set them aside. Then I hunted for +and found the small loophole which we had been told afforded a glimpse of the +library hearthstone; but seeing nothing through it, I called for a light to be +placed in the room below. +</p> + +<p> +I heard Durbin go down, then the major, and finally, the district attorney. +Nothing could stay their curiosity now, not even the possibility of danger, +which as yet was a lurking and mysterious one. But when a light shot up from +below, and the irregular opening before me became a loophole through which I +could catch a very wide glimpse of the library beneath, I found that it was not +necessary for me to warn them to keep away from the hearth, as they were all +clustered very near the door—a precaution not altogether uncalled for at +so hazardous a moment. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you ready?” I called down. +</p> + +<p> +“Ready!” rose in simultaneous response from below. +</p> + +<p> +“Then look out!” +</p> + +<p> +Reaching for the spring cleverly concealed in the wall at my right I vigorously +pressed it. +</p> + +<p> +The result was instantaneous. Silently, but with unerring certainty, something +small, round, and deadly, fell plumb from the library ceiling to where the +settle had formerly stood against the hearthstone. Finding nothing there but +vacancy to expend itself upon, it swung about for a moment on what looked like +a wire or a whip-cord, then slowly came to rest within a foot or so from the +floor. +</p> + +<p> +A cry from the horrified officials below was what first brought me to myself. +Withdrawing from my narrow quarters I hastened down to them and added one more +white face to the three I found congregated in the doorway. In the diabolical +ingenuity we had seen displayed, crime had reached its acme and the cup of +human depravity seemed full. When we had regained in some measure our +self-possession, we all advanced for a closer look at the murderous object +dangling before us. We found it to be a heavy leaden weight painted on its +lower end to match the bosses of stucco-work which appeared at regular +intervals in the ornamentation of the ceiling. When drawn up into place, that +is, when occupying the hole from which it now hung suspended, the portion left +to protrude would evidently bear so small a proportion to its real bulk as to +justify any eye in believing it to be the mate, and the harmless mate, of all +the others. +</p> + +<p> +“It hangs just where the settle stood,” observed Durbin, +significantly. +</p> + +<p> +“And just at the point where the cushions invite rest, as the colonel so +suggestively puts it in his strange puzzle of a confession,” added the +district attorney. +</p> + +<p> +“Replace the old seat,” ordered the major, “and let us make +sure of this.” +</p> + +<p> +Ready hands at once grasped it, and, with some effort, I own, drew it carefully +back into position. +</p> + +<p> +“You see!” quoth Durbin. +</p> + +<p> +We did. +</p> + +<p> +“Devilish!” came from the major’s lips. Then with a glance at +the ball which, pushed aside by the seat, now hung over its edge a foot or so +from the floor, he added briskly: “The ball has fallen to the full length +of the cord. If it were drawn up a little—” +</p> + +<p> +“Wait,” I eagerly interposed. “Let me see what I can do with +it.” +</p> + +<p> +And I dashed back upstairs and into the closet of “The Colonel’s +Own.” +</p> + +<p> +With a single peep down to see if they were still on the watch, I seized the +handle whose position I had made sure of when searching for the spring, and +began to turn; when instantly—so quick was the response—the long +cord stiffened and I saw the ball rise into sight above the settle top. +</p> + +<p> +“Stop!” called out the major. “Let go and press the spring +again.” +</p> + +<p> +I hastened to obey and, though the back of the settle hid the result from me, I +judged from the look and attitude of those below that the old colonel’s +calculations had been made with great exactness, and that the one comfortable +seat on the rude and cumbersome bench had been so placed that this leaden +weight in descending would at the chosen moment strike the head of him who sat +there, inflicting death. That the weight should be made just heavy enough to +produce a fatal concussion without damaging the skull was proof of the extreme +care with which this subtle apparatus had been contrived. An open wound would +have aroused questions, but a mere bruise might readily pass as a result of the +victim’s violent contact with the furnishings of the hearth toward which +the shocked body would naturally topple. The fact that a modern jury had so +regarded it shows how justified he was in this expectation. +</p> + +<p> +I was expending my wonder on this and on a new discovery which, with a very +decided shock to myself I had just made in the closet, when the command came to +turn the handle again and to keep on turning it till it would turn no farther. +</p> + +<p> +I complied, but with a trembling hand, and though I did not watch the result, +the satisfaction I heard expressed below was significant of the celerity and +precision with which the weight rose, foot by foot, to the ceiling and finally +slunk snugly and without seeming jar into its lair. +</p> + +<p> +When, a few minutes later, I rejoined those below, I found them all, with eyes +directed toward the cornice, searching for the hole through which I had just +been looking. It was next to imperceptible, so naturally had it been made to +fit in with the shadows of the scroll work; and even after I had discovered it +and pointed it out to them, I found difficulty in making them believe that they +really looked upon an opening. But when once convinced of this, the district +attorney’s remark was significant. +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad that my name is not Moore.” +</p> + +<p> +The superintendent made no reply; his eye had caught mine, and he had become +very thoughtful. +</p> + +<p> +“One of the two candelabra belonging to the parlor mantel was found lying +on that closet floor,” he observed. “Somebody has entered there +lately, as lately as the day when Mr. Pfeiffer was seated here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me,” I impetuously cried. “Mr. Pfeiffer’s death +is quite explained.” And, drawing forward my hand, which up to this +moment I had held tight-shut behind my back, I slowly unclosed it before their +astonished eyes. +</p> + +<p> +A bit of lace lay in my palm, a delicate bit, such as is only worn by women in +full dress. +</p> + +<p> +“Where did you find that?” asked the major, with the first show of +deep emotion I have ever observed in him. +</p> + +<p> +My agitation was greater than his as I replied: +</p> + +<p> +“In the rough boarding under those drawers. Some woman’s arm and +hand has preceded mine in stealthy search after that fatal spring. A woman who +wore lace, valuable lace.” +</p> + +<p> +There was but one woman connected with this affair who rightly answered these +conditions. The bride! Veronica Moore. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap23"></a>XXIII.<br /> +WORDS IN THE NIGHT</h2> + +<p> +Had I any premonition of the astounding fact thus suddenly and, I may say, +dramatically revealed to us during the weeks I had devoted to the elucidation +of the causes and circumstances of Mrs. Jeffrey’s death? I do not think +so. Nothing in her face, as I remembered it; nothing in the feeling evinced +toward her by husband or sister, had prepared me for a disclosure of crime so +revolting as to surpass all that I had ever imagined or could imagine in a +woman of such dainty personality and unmistakable culture. Nor was the +superintendent or the district attorney less confounded by the event. Durbin +only tried to look wise and strut about, but it was of no use; he deceived +nobody. Veronica Moore’s real connection with Mr. Pfeiffer’s +death,—a death which in some inscrutable way had in so short a time led +to her own,—was an overwhelming surprise to every one of us. +</p> + +<p> +The superintendent, as was natural, recovered first. +</p> + +<p> +“This throws quite a new light upon the matter,” said he. +“Now we can understand why Mr. Jeffrey uttered that extraordinary avowal +overheard on the bridge: ‘She must die!’ She had come to him with +blood on her hands.” +</p> + +<p> +It seemed incredible, nay more, unreal. I recalled the sweet refined face +turned up to me from the bare boards of this same floor, the accounts I had +read of the vivacity of her spirits and the wild charm of her manner till the +shadow of this old house fell upon her. I marveled, still feeling myself in the +dark, still clinging to my faith in womankind, still asking to what depths her +sister had followed her in the mazes of crime we were forced to recognize but +could not understand. +</p> + +<p> +Durbin had no such feelings and no such scruples, as was shown by the sarcastic +comment which now left his lips. +</p> + +<p> +“So!” he cried, “we have to do with three criminals instead +of two. Nice family, the Moore-Jeffreys!” +</p> + +<p> +But no one paid any attention to him. Addressing the major, the district +attorney asked when he expected to hear from Denver, adding that it had now +become of the first importance to ascertain the exact relations existing +between the persons under suspicion and the latest victim of this deadly +mechanism. +</p> + +<p> +The major’s answer was abrupt. He had been expecting a report for days. +He was expecting one yet. If it came in at any time, night or day, he was to be +immediately notified. Word might be sent him in an hour, in a minute. +</p> + +<p> +Were his remarks a prophecy? He had hardly ceased speaking when an officer +appeared with a telegram in his hand. This the major eagerly took and, noting +that it was in cipher, read it by means of the code he carried in his pocket. +Translated, it ran thus: +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Result of open inquiry in Denver. +</p> + +<p> +Three brothers Pfeiffer; all well thought of, but plain in their ways and +eccentric. One doing business in Denver. Died June, ’97. One perished in +Klondike, October, same year; and one, by name Wallace, died suddenly three +months since in Washington. +</p> + +<p> +Nothing further gained by secret inquiry in this place. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Result of open inquiry in Owosso. +</p> + +<p> +A man named Pfeiffer kept a store in Owosso during the time V. M. attended +school there. He was one of three brothers, home Denver, name Wallace. +Simultaneously with V. M.’s leaving school, P. broke up business and at +instigation of his brother William, who accompanied him, went to the Klondike. +No especial relation between lady and this same P. ever noted. V. M. once heard +to laugh at his awkward ways. +</p> + +<p> +Result of secret inquiry in Owosso. +</p> + +<p> +V. M. very intimate with schoolmate who has since died. Often rode together; +once gone a long time. This was just before V. M. left school for good. Date +same as that on which a marriage occurred in a town twenty miles distant. +Bride, Antoinette Moore; groom, W. Pfeiffer of Denver; witness, young girl with +red hair. Schoolmate had red hair. Had V. M. a middle initial, and was that +initial A? +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +We all looked at each other; this last question was one none of us could +answer. +</p> + +<p> +“Go for Mr. Jeffrey at once,” ordered the major, “and let +another one of you bring Miss Tuttle. No word to either of what has occurred +and no hint of their possible meeting here.” +</p> + +<p> +It fell to me to fetch Miss Tuttle. I was glad of this, as it gave me a few +minutes by myself in which to compose my mind and adjust my thoughts to the new +conditions opened up by the amazing facts which had just come to light. But +beyond the fact that Mrs. Jeffrey had been answerable for the death which had +occurred in the library at the time of her marriage—that, in the words of +the district attorney, she had come to her husband with blood on her hands, my +thoughts would not go; confusion followed the least attempt to settle the vital +question of how far Miss Tuttle and Mr. Jeffrey had been involved in the +earlier crime and what the coming interview with these two would add to our +present knowledge. In my anxiety to have this question answered I hastened my +steps and was soon at the door of Miss Tuttle’s present dwelling place. +</p> + +<p> +I had not seen this lady since the inquest, and my heart beat high as I sat +awaiting her appearance in the dim little parlor where I had been seated by the +person who held her under secret surveillance. The scene I had just been +through, the uncertain nature of the relations held by this beautiful woman +both toward the crime just discovered and the one long associated with her +name, lent to these few moments of anticipation an emotion which poorly +prepared me for the touching sight of the patient smile with which she +presently entered. +</p> + +<p> +But I doubt if she noticed my agitation. She was too much swayed by her own. +Advancing upon me in all the unconscious pride of her great beauty, she +tremulously remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“You have a message for me. Is it from headquarters? Or has the district +attorney still more questions to ask?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have a much more trying errand than that,” I hastened to say, +with some idea of preparing her for an experience that could not fail to be one +of exceptional trial. “For reasons which will be explained to you by +those in greater authority than myself, you are wanted at the house +where—” I could not help stammering under the light of her +melancholy eyes—“where I saw you once before,” I lamely +concluded. +</p> + +<p> +“The house in Waverley Avenue?” she objected wildly, with the first +signs of positive terror I had ever beheld in her. +</p> + +<p> +I nodded, dropping my eyes. What call had I to penetrate the conscience of this +woman? +</p> + +<p> +“Are they there? all there?” she presently asked again. “The +police and—and Mr. Jeffrey?” +</p> + +<p> +“Madam,” I respectfully protested, “my duty is limited to +conducting you to the place named. A carriage is waiting. May I beg that you +will prepare yourself to go at once to Waverley Avenue?” +</p> + +<p> +For answer she subjected me to a long and earnest look which I found it +impossible to evade. Then she hastened from the room, but with very unsteady +steps. Evidently the courage which had upborne her so long was beginning to +fail. Her very countenance was changed. Had she recognized, as I meant she +should, that the secret of the Moore house was no longer a secret confined to +her own breast and to that of her unhappy brother-in-law? +</p> + +<p> +When she returned ready for her ride this change in her spirits was less +observable, and by the time we had reached the house in Waverley Avenue she had +so far regained her old courage as to move and speak with the calmness of +despair if not of mental serenity. +</p> + +<p> +The major was awaiting us at the door and bowed gravely before her heavily +veiled figure. +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Tuttle,” he asked, without any preamble, the moment she was +well inside the house, “may I inquire of you here, and before I show you +what will excuse us for subjecting you to the distress of entering these doors, +whether your sister, Mrs. Jeffrey, had any other name or was ever known by any +other name than that of Veronica?” +</p> + +<p> +“She was christened Antoinette, as well as Veronica; but the person in +whose memory the former name was given her was no honor to the family and she +very soon dropped it and was only known as Veronica. Oh, what have I +done?” she cried, awed and frightened by the silence which followed the +utterance of these simple words. +</p> + +<p> +No one answered her. For the first time in her presence, the minds of those who +faced her were with another than herself. The bride! the unhappy bride—no +maiden but a wife! nay, a wife one minute, a widow the next, and then again a +newly-wedded bride before the husband lying below was cold! What wonder that +she shrank when her new-made bridegroom’s lips approached her own! or +that their honeymoon was a disappointment! Or that the shadow which fell upon +her on that evil day never left her till she gave herself wholly up to its +influence and returned to die on the spot made awful by her own crime. +</p> + +<p> +Before any of us were quite ready to speak, a tap at the door told us that +Durbin had arrived with Mr. Jeffrey. When they had been admitted and the latter +saw Miss Tuttle standing there, he, too, seemed to realize that a turn had come +in their affairs, and that courage rather than endurance was the quality most +demanded from him. Facing the small group clustered in the dismal hall fraught +with such unutterable associations, he earnestly prayed: +</p> + +<p> +“Do not keep me in suspense. Why am I summoned here?” +</p> + +<p> +The reply was as grave as the occasion warranted. +</p> + +<p> +“You are summoned to learn the murderous secret of these old walls, and +who it was that last made use of it. Do you feel inclined to hear these details +from my lips, or are you ready to state that you already know the means by +which so many persons, in times past as well as in times present, have met +death here? We do not require you to answer us.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know the means,” he allowed, recognizing without doubt that the +crisis of crises had come, and that denial would be worse than useless. +</p> + +<p> +“Then it only remains for us to acquaint you with the identity of the +person who last pressed the fatal spring. But perhaps you know that, +too?” +</p> + +<p> +“I—” He paused; words were impossible to him; and in that +pause his eyes flashed helplessly in the direction of Miss Tuttle. +</p> + +<p> +But the major was quick on his feet and was already between him and that lady. +This act forced from Mr. Jeffrey’s lips the following broken sentence: +</p> + +<p> +“I should—like—you—to—tell—me.” Great +gasps came with each heavily spoken word. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps this morsel of lace will do it in a gentler manner than I +could,” responded the district attorney, opening his hand, in which lay +the scrap of lace that, an hour or so before, I had plucked away from the +boarding of that fatal closet. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Jeffrey eyed it and understood. His hands went up to his face and he swayed +to the point of falling. Miss Tuttle came quickly forward. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” she moaned, as her eyes fell on the little white shred. +“The providence of God has found us out. We have suffered, labored and +denied in vain.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” came in dreary echo from the man none of us had understood +till now; “so great a crime could not be hid. God will have vengeance. +What are we that we should hope to avert it by any act or at any cost?” +</p> + +<p> +The major, with his eyes fixed piercingly on this miserable man, replied with +one pregnant sentence: +</p> + +<p> +“Then you forced your wife to suicide?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” he began; but before another word could follow, Miss Tuttle, +resplendent in beauty and beaming with new life, broke in with the fervid cry: +</p> + +<p> +“You wrong him and you wrong her by such a suggestion. It was not her +husband but her conscience that forced her to this retributive act. What Mr. +Jeffrey might have done had she proved obdurate and blind to the enormity of +her own guilt, I do not know. But that he is innocent of so influencing her is +proved by the shock he suffered at finding she had taken her punishment into +her own hands.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Jeffrey will please answer the question,” insisted the major. +Whereupon the latter, with great effort, but with the first appearance of real +candor yet seen in him, said earnestly: +</p> + +<p> +“I did nothing to influence her. I was in no condition to do so. I was +benumbed—dead. When first she told me,—it was in some words +muttered in her sleep—I thought she was laboring under some fearful +nightmare; but when she persisted, and I questioned her, and found the horror +true, I was like a man turned instantly into stone, save for one intolerable +throb within. I am still so; everything passes by me like a dream. She was so +young, seemingly so innocent and light-hearted. I loved her! Gentlemen, you +have thought me guilty of my wife’s death,—this young fairy-like +creature to whom I ascribed all the virtues! and I was willing, willing that +you should think so, willing even to face the distrust and opprobrium of the +whole world,—and so was her sister, the noble woman whom you see before +you—rather than that the full horror of her crime should be known and a +name so dear be given up to execration. We thought we could keep the +secret—we felt that we <i>must</i> keep the secret—we took an +oath—in French—in the carriage with the detectives opposite us. +<i>She</i> kept it—God bless her! <i>I</i> kept it. But it was all +useless—a tiny bit of lace is found hanging to a lifeless splinter, and +all our efforts, all the hopes and agony of weeks are gone for naught. The +world will soon know of her awful deed—and I—” +</p> + +<p> +He still loved her! That was apparent in every look, in every word he uttered. +We marveled in awkward silence, and were glad when the major said: +</p> + +<p> +“The deed, as I take it, was an unpremeditated one on her part. Is that +why her honor was dearer to you than your own, and why you could risk the +reputation if not the life of the woman who you say sacrificed herself to +it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it was unpremeditated; she hardly realized her act. If you must +know her heart through all this dreadful business, we have her words to show +you—words which she spent the last miserable day of her life in writing. +The few lines which I showed the captain and which have been published to the +world was an inclosure meant for the public eye. The real letter, telling the +whole terrible truth, I kept for myself and for the sister who already knew her +sin. Oh, we did everything we could!” And he again moaned: “But it +was in vain; quite in vain.” +</p> + +<p> +There were no signs of subterfuge in him now, and we all, unless I except +Durbin, began to yield him credence. Durbin never gives credence to anybody +whose name he has once heard associated with crime. +</p> + +<p> +“And this Pfeiffer was contracted to her? A man she had secretly married +while a school-girl and who at this very critical instant had found his way to +the house.” +</p> + +<p> +“You shall read her letter. It was meant for me, for me only—but +you shall see it. I can not talk of him or of her crime. It is enough that I +have been unable to think of anything else since first those dreadful words +fell front her lips in sleep, thirty-six hours before she died.” Then +with the inconsistency of great anguish he suddenly broke forth into the +details he shrank from and cried “She muttered, lying there, that she was +no bigamist. That she had killed one husband before she married the other. +Killed him in the old house and by the method her ancestors had taught her. And +I, risen on my elbow, listened, with the sweat oozing from my forehead, but not +believing her, oh, not believing her, any more than any one of you would +believe such words uttered in a dream by the darling of your heart. But when, +with a long-drawn sigh, she murmured, ‘Murderer!’ and raised her +fists—tiny fists, hands which I had kissed a thousand times—and +shook them in the air, an awful terror seized me, and I sought to grasp them +and hold them down, but was hindered by some nameless inner recoil under which +I could not speak, nor gasp, nor move. Of course, it was some dream-horror she +was laboring under, a nightmare of unimaginable acts and thoughts, but it was +one to hold me back; and when she lay quiet again and her face resumed its old +sweetness in the moonlight, I found myself staring at her almost as if it were +true—what she had said—that word—that awful word which no +woman could use with regard to herself, even in dreams, unless—Something, +an echo from the discordant chord in our two weeks’ married life, rose +like the confirmation of a doubt in my shocked and rebellious breast. From that +hour till dawn nothing in that slowly brightening room seemed real, not her +face lying buried in its youthful locks upon the pillow, not the objects +well-known and well-prized by which we were surrounded—not +myself—most of all, not myself, unless the icy dew oozing from the roots +of my lifted hair was real, unless that shape, fearsome, vague, but persistent, +which hovered in the shadows above us, drawing a line of eternal separation +between me and my wife, was a thing which could be caught and strangled +and— Oh! I rave! I chatter like a madman; but I did not rave that night. +Nor did I rave when, in the bright, broad sunlight, her eye slowly unclosed and +she started to see me bending so near her, but not with my usual kiss or glad +good morning. I could not question her then; I dared not. The smile which +slowly rose to her lips was too piteous—it showed confidence. I waited +till after breakfast. Then, while she was seated where she could not see my +face, I whispered the question: ‘Do you know that you have had a horrible +dream?’ She shrieked and turned. <i>I saw her face and knew that what she +had uttered in her sleep was true.</i>’ +</p> + +<p> +“I have no remembrance of what I said to her. She tried to tell me how +she had been tempted and how she had not realized her own act, till the moment +I bent down to kiss her lips as her husband. But I did not stop to +listen—I could not. I flew immediately to Miss Tuttle with the violent +demand as to whether she knew that her sister was already a wife when she +married me, and when she cried out ‘No!’ and showed great dismay, I +broke forth with the dreadful tale and cowered in unmanly anguish at her feet, +and went mad and lost myself for a little while. Then I went back to my +wretched wife and asked her how the awful deed had been done. She told me, and +again I did not believe her and began to look upon it all as some wild dream or +the distempered fancies of a disordered brain. This thought calmed me and I +spoke gently to her and even tried to take her hand. But she herself was raving +now, and clung about my knees, murmuring words of such anguish and contrition +that my worst fears returned and, only stopping to take the key of the Moore +house from my bureau, I left the house and wandered madly—I know not +where. +</p> + +<p> +“I did not go back that day. I could not face her again till I knew how +much of her confession was fancy and how much was fact. I roamed the streets, +carrying that key from one end of the city to the other, and at night I used it +to open the house which she had declared contained so dreadful a secret. +</p> + +<p> +“I had bought candles on my way there but, forgetting to take them from +the store, I had no light with which to penetrate the horrible place that even +the moon refused to illumine. I realized this when once in, but would not go +back. All I have told about using matches to light me to the southwest chamber +is true, also my coming upon the old candelabrum there, with a candle in one of +its sockets. This candle I lit, my sole reason for seeking this room being my +desire to examine the antique sketch for the words which she had said could be +found there. +</p> + +<p> +“I had failed to bring a magnifying-glass with me, but my eyes are +phenomenally sharp. Knowing where to look, I was able to pick out enough words +here and there in the lines composing the hair, to feel quite sure that my wife +had neither deceived me nor been deceived as to certain directions being +embodied there in writing. Shaken in my last lingering hope, but not yet quite +convinced that these words pointed to outrageous crime, I flew next to the +closet and drew out the fatal drawer. +</p> + +<p> +“You have been there and know what the place is, but no one but myself +can ever realize what it was for me, still loving, still clinging to a wild +inconsequent belief in my wife, to grope in that mouth of hell for the spring +she had chattered about in her sleep, to find it, press it, and then to hear, +down in the dark of the fearsome recess, the sound of something deadly strike +against what I took to be the cushions of the old settle standing at the edge +of the library hearthstone. +</p> + +<p> +“I think I must have fainted. For when I found myself possessed of +sufficient consciousness to withdraw from that hole of death, the candle in the +candelabrum was shorter by an inch than when I first thrust my head into the +gap made by the removed drawers. In putting back the drawers I hit the +candelabrum with my foot, upsetting it and throwing out the burning candle. As +the flames began to lick the worm-eaten boarding of the floor a momentary +impulse seized me to rush away and leave the whole place to burn. But I did +not. With a sudden frenzy, I stamped out the flame, and then finding myself in +darkness, groped my way downstairs and out. If I entered the library I do not +remember it. Some lapses must be pardoned a man involved as I was.” +</p> + +<p> +“But the fact which you dismiss so lightly is an important one,” +insisted the major. “We must know positively whether you entered this +room or not.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have no recollection of doing so” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you can not tell us whether the little table was standing there, +with the candelabrum upon it or—” +</p> + +<p> +“I can tell you nothing about it.” +</p> + +<p> +The major, after a long look at this suffering man, turned toward Miss Tuttle. +</p> + +<p> +“You must have loved your sister very much,” he sententiously +remarked. +</p> + +<p> +She flushed and for the first time her eyes fell from their resting-place on +Mr. Jeffrey’s face. +</p> + +<p> +“I loved her reputation,” was her quiet answer, +“and—” The rest died in her throat. +</p> + +<p> +But we all—such of us, I mean, who were possessed of the least +sensibility or insight, knew how that sentence sounded as finished in her heart +“and I loved <i>him</i> who asked this sacrifice of me.” +</p> + +<p> +Yet was her conduct not quite clear. +</p> + +<p> +“And to save that reputation you tied the pistol to her wrist?” +insinuated the major. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” was her vehement reply. “I never knew what I was tying +to her. My testimony in that regard was absolutely true. She held the pistol +concealed in the folds of her dress. I did not dream—I could +not—that she was contemplating any such end to the atrocious +crime—to which she had confessed. Her manner was too light, too airy and +too frivolous—a manner adopted, as I now see, to forestall all questions +and hold back all expressions of feeling on my part. ‘Tie these hanging +ends of ribbon to my wrist,’ were her words. ‘Tie them tight; a +knot under and a bow on top. I am going out— There, don’t say +anything— What you want to talk about will keep till tomorrow. For one +night more I am going to make merry—to—to enjoy myself.’ She +was laughing. I thought her horribly callous and trembled with such an +unspeakable repulsion that I had difficulty in making the knot. To speak at all +would have been impossible. Neither did I dare to look in her face. I was +touching the hand and <i>she</i> kept on laughing—such a hollow laugh +covering up such an awful resolve! When she turned to give me that last +injunction about the note, this resolve glared still in her eyes.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you never suspected?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not for an instant. I did not do justice either to her misery or to her +conscience. I fear that I have never done her justice in anyway. I thought her +light, pleasure-loving. I did not know that it was assumed to hide a terrible +secret.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you had no knowledge of the contract she had entered into while a +school-girl?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not in the least. Another woman, and not myself, had been her +confidante; a woman who has since died. No intimation of her first unfortunate +marriage had ever reached me till Mr. Jeffrey rushed in upon me that Tuesday +morning with her dreadful confession on his lips.” +</p> + +<p> +The district attorney, who did not seem quite satisfied on a certain point +passed over by the major, now took the opportunity of saying: +</p> + +<p> +“You assure us that you had no idea that this once lighthearted sister of +yours meditated suicide when she left you?” +</p> + +<p> +“And I repeat it, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then why did you immediately go to Mr. Jeffrey’s drawer, where you +could have no business, unless it was to see if she had taken his pistol with +her?” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Tuttle’s head fell and a soft flush broke through the pallor of her +cheek. +</p> + +<p> +“Because I was thinking of <i>him</i>. Because I was terrified for +<i>him</i>. He had left the house the morning before in a half-maddened +condition and had not come back to sleep or eat since. I did not know what a +man so outraged in every sacred feeling of love and honor might be tempted to +do. I thought of suicide. I remembered the old house and how he had said, +‘I don’t believe her. I don’t believe she ever did so +cold-blooded an act, or that any such dreadful machinery is in that house. I +never shall believe it till I have seen and handled it myself. It is a +nightmare, Cora. We are insane.’ I thought of this, sirs, and when I went +into her room, to change the place of the little note in the book, I went to +his bureau drawer, not to look for the pistol—I did not think of that +then,—but to see if the keys of the Moore house were still there. I knew +that they were kept in this drawer, for I had been present in the room when +they were brought in after the wedding. I had also been short-sighted enough to +conclude that if they were gone it was he who had taken them. They were gone, +and that was why I flew immediately from the house to the old place in Waverley +Avenue. I was concerned for Mr. Jeffrey! I feared to find him there, demented +or dead.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you had no key.” +</p> + +<p> +“No. Mr. Jeffrey had taken one of them and my sister the other. But the +lack of a key or even of a light—for the missing candles were not taken +by me<a href="#fn-1" name="fnref-1" id="fnref-1"><sup>[1]</sup></a>—could +not keep me at home after I was once convinced that he had gone to this +dreadful house. If I could not get in I could at least hammer at the door or +rouse the neighbors. Something must be done. I did not think what; I merely +flew.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-1" id="fn-1"></a> <a href="#fnref-1">[1]</a> +We afterwards found that these candles were never delivered at the house at +all; that they had been placed in the wrong basket and left in a neighboring +kitchen. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you know that the house had two keys?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not then.” +</p> + +<p> +“But your sister did?” +</p> + +<p> +“Probably.” +</p> + +<p> +“And finding the only key, as you supposed, gone, you flew to the Moore +house?” +</p> + +<p> +“Immediately.” +</p> + +<p> +“And now what else?” +</p> + +<p> +“I found the door unlocked.” +</p> + +<p> +“That was done by Mrs. Jeffrey?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but I did not think of her then.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you went in?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; it was all dark, but I felt my way till I came to the gilded +pillars.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why did you go there?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because I felt—I knew—if he were anywhere in that house he +would be <i>there!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“And why did you stop?” +</p> + +<p> +Her voice rose above its usual quiet pitch in shrill protest: +</p> + +<p> +“You know! you know! I heard a pistol-shot from within, then a fall. I +don’t remember anything else. They say I went wandering about town. +Perhaps I did; it is all a blank to me—everything is a blank till the +policeman said that my sister was dead and I learned for the first time that +the shot I had heard in the Moore house was not the signal of his death, but +hers. Had I been myself when at that library door,” she added, after a +moment of silence, “I would have rushed in at the sound of that shot and +have received my sister’s dying breath.” +</p> + +<p> +“Cora!” The cry was from Mr. Jeffrey, and seemed to be quite +involuntary. “In the weeks during which we have been kept from speaking +together I have turned all these events over in my mind till I longed for any +respite, even that of the grave. But in all my thinking I never attributed this +motive to your visit here. Will you forgive me?” +</p> + +<p> +There was a new tone in his voice, a tone which no woman could hear without +emotion. +</p> + +<p> +“You had other things to think of,” she said, and her lips +trembled. Never have I seen on the human face a more beautiful expression than +I saw on hers at that moment; nor do I think Mr. Jeffrey had either, for as he +marked it his own regard softened almost to tenderness. +</p> + +<p> +The major had no time for sentimentalities. Turning to Mr. Jeffrey, he said: +</p> + +<p> +“One more question before we send for the letter which you say will give +us full insight into your wife’s crime. Do you remember what occurred on +the bridge at Georgetown just before you came into town that night?” +</p> + +<p> +He shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you meet any one there?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can you remember your state of mind?” +</p> + +<p> +“I was facing the future.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what did you see in the future?” +</p> + +<p> +“Death. Death for her and death for me! A crime was on her soul and she +must die, and if she, then myself. I knew no other course. I could not summon +the police, point out my bride of a fortnight and, with the declaration that +she had been betrayed into killing a man, coldly deliver her up to justice. +Neither could I live at her side knowing the guilty secret which parted us; or +live anywhere in the world under this same consciousness. Therefore, I meant to +kill myself before another sun rose. But she was more deeply stricken with a +sense of her own guilt than I realized. When I returned home for the pistol +which was to end our common misery I found that she had taken her punishment +into her own hands. This strangely affected me, but when I found that, in doing +this, she had remembered that I should have to face the world after she was +gone, and so left a few lines for me to show in explanation of her act, my +revolt against her received a check which the reading of her letter only +increased. But the lines she thus wrote and left were not true lines. All her +heart was mine, and if it was a wicked heart she has atoned—” +</p> + +<p> +He paused, quite overcome. Others amongst us were overcome, too, but only for a +moment. The following remark from the district attorney soon recalled us to the +practical aspects of the case. +</p> + +<p> +“You have accounted for many facts not hitherto understood. But there is +still a very important one which neither yourself nor Miss Tuttle has yet made +plain. There was a candle on the scene of crime; it was out when this officer +arrived here. There was also one found burning in the upstairs room, aside from +the one you professedly used in your tour of inspection there. Whence came +those candles? And did your wife blow out the one in the library herself, +previous to the shooting, or was it blown out afterward and by other +lips?” +</p> + +<p> +“These are questions which, as I have already said, I have no means of +answering,” repeated Mr. Jeffrey. “The courage which brought her +here may have led her to supply herself with light; and, hard as it is to +conceive, she may even have found nerve to blow out the light before she lifted +the pistol to her breast:” +</p> + +<p> +The district attorney and the major looked unconvinced, and the latter, turning +toward Miss Tuttle, asked if she had any remark to make on the subject. +</p> + +<p> +But she could only repeat Mr. Jeffrey’s statement. +</p> + +<p> +“These are questions <i>I</i> can not answer either. I have said that I +stopped at the library door, which means that I saw nothing of what passed +within.” +</p> + +<p> +Here the major asked where Mrs. Jeffrey’s letter was to be found. It was +Mr. Jeffrey who replied: +</p> + +<p> +“Search in my room for a book with an outside cover of paper still on it. +You will probably find it on my table. The inner cover is red. Bring that book +here. Our secret is hidden in it.” +</p> + +<p> +Durbin disappeared on this errand. I followed him as far as the door, but I did +not think it necessary to state that I had seen this book lying on the table +when I paid my second visit to Mr. Jeffrey’s room in company with the +coroner. The thought that my hand had been within reach of this man’s +secret so many weeks before was sufficiently humiliating without being shared. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap24"></a>XXIV.<br /> +TANTALIZING TACTICS</h2> + +<p> +I made my way to the front door, but returned almost immediately. Drawing the +major aside, I whispered a request, which led to a certain small article being +passed over to me, after which I sauntered out on the stoop just in time to +encounter the spruce but irate figure of Mr. Moore, who had crossed from the +opposite side. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” said I. “Good morning!” and made him my most +deferential bow. +</p> + +<p> +He glared and Rudge glared from his place on the farther curb. Evidently the +police were not in favor with the occupants of the cottage that morning. +</p> + +<p> +“When is this to cease?” he curtly demanded. “When are these +early-morning trespasses upon an honest citizen’s property coming to an +end? I wake with a light heart, expecting that my house, which is certainly as +much mine as is any man’s in Washington, would be handed over this very +day for my habitation, when what do I see—one police officer leaving the +front door and another sunning himself in the vestibule. How many more of you +are within I do not presume to ask. Some half-dozen, no doubt, and not one of +you smart enough to wind up this matter and have done with it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! I don’t know about that,” I drawled, and looked very +wise. +</p> + +<p> +His curiosity was aroused. +</p> + +<p> +“Anything new?” he snapped. +</p> + +<p> +“Possibly,” I returned, in a way to exasperate a saint. +</p> + +<p> +He stepped on to the porch beside me. I was too abstracted to notice; I was +engaged in eying Rudge. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know,” said I, after an instant of what I meant should be +one of uncomfortable suspense on his part, “that I have a greater respect +than ever for that animal of yours since learning the very good reason he has +for refusing to cross the street?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ha! what’s that?” he asked, with a quick look behind him at +the watchful brute straining toward him with nose over the gutter. +</p> + +<p> +“He sees farther than we can. His eyes penetrate walls and +partitions,” I remarked. Then, carelessly and with the calm drawing forth +of a folded bit of paper which I held out toward him, I added: “By the +way, here is something of yours.” +</p> + +<p> +His hand rose instinctively to take it; then dropped. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know what you mean,” he remarked. “You have +nothing of mine.” +</p> + +<p> +“No? Then John Judson Moore had another brother.” And I thrust the +paper back into my pocket. +</p> + +<p> +He followed it with his eye. It was the memorandum I had found in the old book +of memoirs plucked from the library shelf within, and he recognized it for his +and saw that I did also. But he failed to show the white feather. +</p> + +<p> +“You are good at ransacking,” he observed; “pity that it can +not be done to more purpose.” +</p> + +<p> +I smiled and made a fresh start. With my hand thrust again into my pocket, I +remarked, without even so much as a glance at him: +</p> + +<p> +“I fear that you do some injustice to the police. We are not such bad +fellows; neither do we waste as much time as you seem to think.” And +drawing out my hand, with the little filigree ball in it, I whirled the latter +innocently round and round on my finger. As it flashed under his eye, I cast +him a penetrating look. +</p> + +<p> +He tried to carry the moment off successfully; I will give him so much credit. +But it was asking too much of his curiosity, and there was no mistaking the +eager glitter which lighted his glance as he saw within his reach this article +which a moment before he had probably regarded as lost forever. +</p> + +<p> +“For instance,” I went on, watching him furtively, though quite +sure from his very first look that he knew no more now of the secret of this +little ball than he knew when he jotted down the memorandum I had just pocketed +before his eyes, “a little thing—such a little thing as +this,” I repeated, giving the bauble another twist—“may lead +to discoveries such as no common search would yield in years. I do not say that +it has; but such a thing is possible, you know: who better?” +</p> + +<p> +My nonchalance was too much for him. He surveyed me with covert dislike, and +dryly observed “Your opportunities have exceeded mine, even with my own +effects. That petty trinket which you have presumed to flaunt in my +face—and of whose value I am the worst judge in the world since I have +never had it in my hand—descended to me with the rest of Mrs. +Jeffrey’s property. Your conduct, therefore, strikes me in the light of +an impertinence, especially as no one could be supposed to have more interest +than myself in what has been for many years recognized as a family +talisman.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah,” I remarked. “You own to the memorandum then. It was +made on the spot, but without the benefit of the talisman.” +</p> + +<p> +“I own to nothing,” he snapped. Then, realizing that denial in this +regard was fatal, he added more genially: “What do you mean by +memorandum? If you mean that recapitulation of old-time mysteries and their +accompanying features with which I once whiled away an idle hour, I own to it, +of course. Why shouldn’t I? It is only a proof of my curiosity in regard +to this old mystery which every member of my family must feel. That curiosity +has not been appeased. If it would not be indiscreet on your part, may I now +ask if you have found out what that little golden ball of mine which you sport +so freely before my eyes is to be used in connection with?” +</p> + +<p> +“Read the papers,” I said; “read tomorrow’s papers, Mr. +Moore; or, better still, tonight’s. Perhaps they will inform you.” +</p> + +<p> +He was as angry as I had expected him to be, but as this ire proved +conclusively that his strongest emotion had been curiosity rather than fear, I +felt assured of my ground, and turned to reenter the house. Mr. Moore did not +accompany me. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +The major was standing in the hall. The others had evidently retreated to the +parlor. +</p> + +<p> +“The man opposite knows what he knows,” said I; “but this +does not include the facts concerning the picture in the southwest chamber or +the devilish mechanism.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are sure?” +</p> + +<p> +“As positive as one of my inexperience can be. But, Major, I am equally +positive that he knows more than he should of Mrs. Jeffrey’s death. I am +even ready to state that in my belief he was in the house when it +occurred.” +</p> + +<p> +“Has he acknowledged this?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then what are your reasons for this belief?” +</p> + +<p> +“They are many” +</p> + +<p> +“Will you state them?” +</p> + +<p> +“Gladly, if you will pardon the presumption. Some of my conclusions can +not be new to you. The truth is that I have possibly seen more of this old man +than my duty warranted, and I feel quite ready to declare that he knows more of +what has taken place in this house than he is ready to avow. I am sure that he +has often visited it in secret and knows about a certain broken window as well +as we do. I am also sure that he was here on the night of Mrs. Jeffrey’s +suicide. He was too little surprised when I informed him of what had happened +not to have had some secret inkling of it beforehand, even if we had not the +testimony of the lighted candle and the book he so hurriedly replaced. Besides, +he is not the man to drag himself out at night for so simple a cause as the one +with which he endeavored to impose upon us. He knew what we should find in this +house.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good. If Mr. Jeffrey’s present explanations are true, these +deductions of yours are probably correct. But Mr. Moore’s denial has been +positive. I fear that it will turn out a mere question of veracity.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not necessarily,” I returned. “I think I see a way of +forcing this man to acknowledge that he was in or about this house on that +fatal night.” +</p> + +<p> +“You do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir; I do not want to boast, and I should be glad if you did not +oblige me to confide to you the means by which I hope to bring this out. Only +give me leave to insert an advertisement in both evening and morning papers and +in two days I will report failure or success.” +</p> + +<p> +The major eyed me with an interest that made my heart thrill. Then he quickly +said: “You have earned the privilege; I will give you two days.” +</p> + +<p> +At this moment Durbin reappeared. As I heard his knock and turned to open the +door for him, I cast the major an entreating if not eloquent look. +</p> + +<p> +He smiled and waved his hand with friendly assurance. The state of feeling +between Durbin and myself was evidently well known to him. +</p> + +<p> +My enemy entered with a jaunty air, which changed ever so slightly when he saw +me in close conference with the superintendent. +</p> + +<p> +He had the book in his pocket. Taking it out, he handed it to the major, with +this remark: +</p> + +<p> +“You won’t find anything there; the gent’s been fooling +you.” +</p> + +<p> +The major opened the book, shook it, looked under the cover, found nothing, and +crossed hastily to the drawing-room. We as hastily followed him. The district +attorney was talking with Miss Tuttle; Mr. Jeffrey was nervously pacing the +floor. The latter stopped as we all entered and his eyes flashed to the book. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me take it,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“It is absolutely empty,” remarked the major. “The letter has +been abstracted, probably without your knowledge.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not think so,” was Mr. Jeffrey’s unexpected retort. +“Do you suppose that I would intrust a secret, for the preservation of +which I was ready to risk life and honor, to the open pages of a book? When I +found myself threatened with all sorts of visits from the police and realized +that at any moment my effects might be ransacked, I sought a hiding place for +this letter, which no man without superhuman insight could discover. +Look!” +</p> + +<p> +And, pulling off the outside wrapper, he inserted the point of his penknife +under the edge of the paper lining the inside cover and ripped it off with a +jerk. +</p> + +<p> +“I pasted this here myself,” he cried, and showed us where between +this paper and the boards, in a place thinned out to hold it, there lay a +number of folded sheets, which, with a deep sigh, he handed over to the +major’s inspection. As he did so he remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“I had rather have died any natural death than have had my miserable +wife’s secret known. But since the crime has come to light, this story of +her sin and her repentance may serve in some slight degree to mitigate public +opinion. She was sorely tempted and she succumbed; the crime of her ancestors +was in her blood.” +</p> + +<p> +He again walked off. The major unfolded the sheets. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap25"></a>XXV.<br /> +WHO WILL TELL THE MAN INSIDE THERE</h2> + +<p> +Later I saw this letter. It was like no other that has ever come under my eye. +Written at intervals, as her hand had power or her misery found words, it bore +on its face all the evidences of that restless, suffering spirit which for +thirty-six hours drove her in frenzy about her room, and caused Loretta to say, +in her effort to describe her mistress’ face as it appeared to her at the +end of this awful time: “It was as if a blight had passed over it. Once +gay and animated beyond the power of any one to describe, it had become a +ghost’s face, with the glare of some awful resolve upon it.” I give +this letter just as it was written-disjointed paragraphs, broken sentences, +unfinished words and all. The breaks show where she laid down her pen, possibly +for that wild pacing of the floor which left such unmistakable signs behind it. +It opens abruptly: +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“I killed him. I am all that I said I was, and you can never again give +me a thought save in the way of cursing and to bewail the day I came into your +life. But you can not hate me more than I hate myself, my wicked self, who, +seeing an obstacle in the way to happiness, stamped it out of existence, and so +forfeited all right to happiness forever. +</p> + +<p> +“It was so easy! Had it been a hard thing to do; had it been necessary to +lay hand on knife or lift a pistol, I might have realized the act and paused. +But just a little spring which a child’s hand could manage—Who, +feeling for it, could help pressing it, if only to see— +</p> + +<p> +“I was always a reckless girl, mad for pleasure and without any thought +of consequences. When school bored me, I took all my books out of my desk, +called upon my mates to do the same, and, stacking them up into a sort of +rostrum in a field where we played, first delivered an oration from them in +which reverence for my teachers had small part, then tore them into pieces and +burned them in full sight of my admiring school-fellows. I was dismissed, but +not with disgrace. Teachers and scholars bewailed my departure, not because +they liked me, or because of any good they had found in me, but because my +money had thrown luster on them and on the whole establishment. +</p> + +<p> +“This was when I was twelve, and it was on account of this reckless +escapade that I was sent west and kept so long from home and all my flatterers. +My guardian meant well by this, but in saving me from one pitfall he plunged me +into another. I grew up without Cora and also without any idea of the +requirements of my position or what I might anticipate from the world when the +time came for me to enter it. I knew that I had money; so did those about me; +but I had little or no idea of the amount, nor what that money would do for me +when I returned to Washington. So, in an evil day, and when I was just +eighteen, I fell in love, or thought I did, with a man—(Oh, Francis, +imagine it, now that I have seen you!)—of sufficient attraction to +satisfy one whose prospects were limited to a contracted existence in some +small town, but no more fitted to content me after seeing Washington life than +if he had been a common farm hand or the most ordinary of clerks in a country +store. But I was young, ignorant and self-willed, and thought because my cheek +burned under his look that he was the man of men, and suited to be my husband. +That is, if I thought at all, which is not likely; for I was in a feverish +whirl, and just followed the impulse of the moment, which was to be with him +whenever I could without attracting the teacher’s attention. And this, +alas! was only too often, for he was the brother of one of our storekeepers, a +visitor in Owosso, and often in the store where we girls went. Why the teachers +did not notice how often we needed things there, I do not know. But they did +not, and matters went on and— +</p> + +<p> +“I can not write of those days, and you do not want to hear about them. +They seem impossible to me now, and almost as if it had all happened to some +one else, so completely have I forgotten the man except as the source and cause +of an immeasurable horror. Yet he was not bad himself; only ordinary and +humdrum. Indeed, I believe he was very good in ways, or so his brother once +assured me. We would not have been married in the way we were if he had not +wanted to go to the Klondike for the purpose of making money and making it +quickly, so that his means might match mine. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know which of us two was most to blame for that marriage. He +urged it because he was going so far away and wanted to be sure of me. I +accepted it because it seemed to be romantic and because it pleased me to have +my own way in spite of my hard old guardian and the teachers, who were always +prying about, and the girls, who went silly over him—for he was really +handsome in his way—and who thought, (at least many of them did,) that he +cared for them when he cared only for me. +</p> + +<p> +“I have hated black eyes for a year. He had black eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“I forgot Cora, or, rather, I did not let any remembrance of her hinder +me. She was a very shadowy person to me in those days. I had not seen her since +we were both children, and as for her letters—they were almost a bore to +me; she lived such a different life from mine and wrote of so many things I had +no interest in. On my knees I ask her pardon now. I never understood her. I +never understood myself. I was light as thistledown and blown by every breeze. +There came a gust one day which blew me into the mouth of hell. I am hovering +there yet and am sinking, Francis, sinking—Save me! I love +you—I—I— +</p> + +<p> +“It was all planned by him—I have no head for such things. Sadie +helped him—Sadie was my friend—but Sadie had not much to say about +it, for he seemed to know just how to arrange it all so that no one at the +seminary should know or even suspect what had occurred till we got ready to +tell them. He did not even take his brother into his confidence, for Wallace +kept store and gossiped very much with his customers. Besides, he was very busy +just then selling out, for he was going to the Klondike with William, and he +had too much on his mind to be bothered, or so William said. All this I must +tell you or you will never understand the temptation which assailed me when, +having returned to Washington, I awoke to my own position and the kind of men +whom I could now hope to meet. I was the wife—oh, the folly of +it—but this was known to so few, and those were so far removed, and one +even—my friend Sadie—being dead— Why not ignore the miserable +secret ceremony and cheat myself into believing myself free, and enjoy this +world of pleasure and fashion as Cora was enjoying it and—trust. Trust +what? Why the Klondike! That swallower-up of men. Why shouldn’t it +swallow one more— Oh, I know that it sounds hateful. But I was desperate; +I had seen <i>you</i>. +</p> + +<p> +“I had one letter from him after he reached Alaska, but that was before I +left Owosso. I never got another. And I never wrote to him. He told me not to +do so until he could send me word how and where to write; but when these +directions came my heart had changed and my only wish was to forget his +existence. And I did forget it—almost. I rode and danced with you and +went hither and yon, lavishing money and time and heart on the frivolities +which came in my way, calling myself Veronica and striving by these means to +crush out every remembrance of the days when I was known as Antoinette and +Antoinette only. For the Klondike was far and its weather bitter, and men were +dying there every day, and no letters came (I used to thank God for this), and +I need not think—not yet—whither I was tending. One thing only made +me recall my real position. That was when your eyes turned on mine—your +true eyes, so bright with confidence and pride. I wanted to meet them full, and +when I could not, I suddenly knew why, and suffered. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you remember the night when we stood together on the balcony at the +Ocean View House and you laid your hand on my arm and wondered why I persisted +in looking at the moon instead of into your expectant face? It was because the +music then being played within recalled another night and the pressure of +another hand on my arm—a hand whose touch I hoped never to feel again, +but which at that moment was so much more palpable than yours that I came near +screaming aloud and telling you in one rush of maddened emotion my whole +abominable secret. +</p> + +<p> +“I did not accept your attentions nor agree to marry you, without a +struggle. You know that. You can tell, as no one else can, how I held back and +asked for time and still for time, thus grieving you and tearing my own breast +till a day came—you remember the day when you found me laughing like a +mad woman in a circle of astonished friends? You drew me aside and said words +which I hardly waited for you to finish, for at last I was free to love you, +free to love and free to say so. The morning paper had brought news. A +telegraphic despatch from Seattle told how a man had struggled into Nome, +frozen, bleeding and without accouterments or companion. It was with difficulty +he had kept his feet and turned in at the first tent he came to. Indeed, he had +only time to speak his name before he fell dead. This name was what made this +despatch important to me. It was William Pfeiffer. For me there was but one +William Pfeiffer in the Klondike—my husband—and he was dead! That +was why you found me laughing. But not in mirth. I am not so bad as that; but +because I could breathe again without feeling a clutch about my throat. I did +not know till then how nearly I had been stifled. +</p> + +<p> +“We were not long in marrying after that. I was terrified at delay, not +because I feared any contradiction of the report which had given this glorious +release, but because I dreaded lest some hint of my early folly should reach +you and dim the pride with which you regarded me. I wanted to feel myself yours +so closely and so dearly that you would not mind if any one told you that I had +once cared, or thought I had cared, for another. The week of our marriage came; +I was mad with gaiety and ecstatic with hope. Nothing had occurred to mar my +prospects. No letter from Denver—no memento from the Klondike, no word +even from Wallace, who had gone north with his brother. Soon I should be called +wife again, but by lips I loved, and to whose language my heart thrilled. The +past, always vague, would soon be no more than a forgotten dream—an +episode quite closed. I could afford from this moment on to view life like +other girls and rejoice in my youth and the love which every day was becoming +more and more to me. +</p> + +<p> +“But God had His eye upon me, and in the midst of my happiness and the +hurry of our final preparations His bolt fell. It struck me while I was at +the—don’t laugh; rather shudder—at the dressmaker’s +shop in Fourteenth Street. I was leaning over a table, chattering like a magpie +over the way I wanted a gown trimmed, when my eye fell on a scrap of newspaper +in which something had come rolled to madame. It was torn at the edge, but on +the bit lying under my eyes I saw my husband’s name, William Pfeiffer, +and that the paper was a Denver one. There was but one William Pfeiffer in +Denver—and he was my husband. And I read—feeling nothing. Then I +read again, and the world, my world, went from under my feet; for the man who +had fallen dead in the camp at Nome was Wallace, William’s brother, and +not William himself. William had been left behind on the road by his more +energetic brother, who had pushed on for succor through the worst storm and +under the worst conditions possible even in that God-forsaken region. With the +lost one in mind, the one word that Wallace uttered in sight of rescue, was +William. A hope was expressed of finding the latter alive and a party had +started out—Did I read more? I do not think so. Perhaps there was no more +to read; here was where the paper was torn across. But it was no matter. I had +seen enough. It was Wallace who had fallen dead, and while William might have +perished also, and doubtless had, I had no certainty of it. And my wedding day +was set for Thursday. +</p> + +<p> +“Why didn’t I tell Cora; why didn’t I tell you? Pride held my +tongue; besides, I had had time to think before I saw either of you, and to +reason a bit and to feel sure that if Wallace had been spent enough to fall +dead on reaching the camp, William could never have survived on the open road. +For Wallace was the stronger of the two and the most hardy every way. Free I +certainly was. Some later paper would assure me of this. I would hunt them up +and see—but I never did. I do not think I dared. I was afraid I should +see some account of his rescue. I was afraid of being made certain of what was +now but a possibility, and so I did nothing. But for three nights I did not +sleep. +</p> + +<p> +“The caprice which had led me to choose the old Moore house to be married +in led me to plan dressing there on my wedding morning. It was early when we +started, Cora and I, for Waverley Avenue, but not too early for the approaches +to that dreadful house to be crowded with people, eager to see the daring +bride. Why I should have shrunk so from that crowd I can not say. I trembled at +sight of their faces and at the sound of their voices, and if by chance a head +was thrust forward farther than the rest I cowered back instinctively and +nearly screamed. Did I dread to recognize a too familiar face? The paper I had +seen bore a date six months back. A man could arrive here from Alaska in that +time. Or was my conscience aroused at last and clamoring to be heard when it +was too late? On the corner of N Street the carriage suddenly stopped. A man +had crossed in front of it. I caught one glimpse of this man and instantly the +terrors of a lifetime were concentrated into one instant of agonizing fear. It +was William Pfeiffer. I knew the look; I knew the gait. He was gone in a moment +and the carriage rolled on. But I knew my doom as well that minute as I did an +hour later. My husband was alive and he was here. He had escaped the perils of +the Klondike and wandered east to reclaim his recreant wife. There had been +time for him to do this since the rescue party left home in search of him; time +for him to recover, time for him to reach home, time for him to reach the east. +He had heard of my wedding; it was in all the papers, and I should find him at +the house when I got there, and you would know and Cora would know, and the +wedding would stop and my name be made a by-word the world over. Instead of the +joy awaiting me a moment since, I should have to go away with him into some +wilderness or distant place of exile where my maiden name would never be heard, +and all the memories of this year of stolen delights be effaced. Oh, it was +horrible! And all in a minute! And Cora sat there, pale, calm and beautiful as +an angel, beaming on me with tender eyes whose expression I have never +understood! Hell in my heart,—and she, in happy ignorance of this, +brooding over my joy and smiling to herself while the soft tears rose! +</p> + +<p> +“You were waiting at the curb when I arrived, and I remember how my heart +stood still when you laid your hand on the carriage door and confronted me with +that light on your face I had never seen disturbed since we first pledged +ourselves to marry. Would he see it, too, and come forward from the secret +place where he held himself hidden? Was I destined to behold a struggle in the +streets, an unseemly contest of words in sight of the door I had expected to +enter so joyously? In terror of such an event, I seized the hand which seemed +my one refuge in this hour of mortal trouble, and hastened into the house +which, for all its doleful history, had never received within its doors a heart +more burdened or rebellious. As this thought rushed over me, I came near crying +out, ‘The house of doom! The house of doom!’ I had thought to brave +its terrors and its crimes and it has avenged itself. But instead of that, I +pressed your hand with mine and smiled. O God! if you could have seen what lay +beneath that smile! For, with my entrance beneath those fatal doors a thought +had come. I remembered my heritage. I remembered how I had been told by my +father when I was a very little girl,—I presume when he first felt the +hand of death upon him,—that if ever I was in great trouble,—very +great trouble, he had said, where no deliverance seemed possible—I was to +open a little golden ball which he showed me and take out what I should find +inside and hold it close up before a picture which had hung from time +immemorial in the southwest corner of this old house. He could not tell me what +I should encounter—there this I remember his saying—but something +that would assist me, something which had passed with good effect from father +down to child for many generations. Only, if I would be blessed in my +undertakings, I must not open the golden ball nor endeavor to find out its +mystery unless my trouble threatened death or some great disaster. Such a +trouble had indeed come to me, and—startling coincidence—I was at +this moment in the very house where this picture hung, and—more startling +fact yet—the golden ball needed to interpret its meaning was round my +neck—for with such jealousy was this family trinket always guarded by its +owner. Why then not test their combined effect? I certainly needed help from +some quarter. Never would William allow me to be married to another while he +lived. He would yet appear and I should need thus great assistance (great +enough to be transmitted from father to son) as none of the Moores had needed +it yet; though what it was I did not know and did not even try to guess. +</p> + +<p> +“Yet when I got to the room I did not drag out the filigree ball at once +nor even take more than one fearful side-long look at the picture. In drawing +off my glove I had seen his ring—the ring you had once asked about. It +was such a cheap affair; the only one he could get in that obscure little town +where we were married. I lied when you asked me if it was a family jewel; lied +but did not take it off, perhaps because it clung so tightly, as if in +remembrance of the vows it symbolized. But now the very sight of it gave me a +fright. With his ring on my finger I could not defy him and swear his claim to +be false the dream of a man maddened by his experiences in the Klondike. It +must come off. Then, perhaps, I should feel myself a free woman. But it would +not come off. I struggled with it and tugged in vain; then I bethought me of +using a nail file to sever it. This I did, grinding and grinding at it till the +ring finally broke, and I could wrench it off and cast it away out of sight +and, as I hoped, out of my memory also. I breathed easier when rid of this +token, yet choked with terror whenever a step approached the door. I was clad +in my bridal dress, but not in my bridal veil or ornaments, and naturally Cora, +and then my maid, came to assist me. But I would not let them in. I was set +upon testing the secret of the filigree ball and so preparing myself for what +my conscience told me lay between me and the ceremony arranged for high noon. +</p> + +<p> +“I did not guess that the studying out of that picture would take so +long. The contents of the ball turned out to be a small magnifying-glass, and +the picture a maze of written words. I did not decipher it all; I did not +decipher the half. I did not need to. A spirit of divination was given me in +that awful hour which enabled me to grasp its full meaning from the few +sentences I did pick out. And that meaning! It was horrible, inconceivable. +Murder was taught; but murder from a distance, and by an act too simple to +awake revulsion. Were the wraiths of my two ancestors who had played with the +spring hidden in the depths of this old closet, drawn up in mockery beside me +during the hour when I stood spellbound in the middle of the floor, thinking of +what I had just read, and listening—listening for something less loud +than the sound of carriages now beginning to roll up in front or the stray +notes of the band tuning up below?—less loud, but meaning what? A step +into the empty closet yawning so near—an effort with a +drawer—a—a— Do not ask me to recall it. I did not shudder +when the moment came and I stood there. Then I was cold as marble. But I +shudder now in thinking of it till soul and body seem separating, and the +horror which envelopes me gives me such a foretaste of hell that I wonder I can +contemplate the deed which, if it releases me from this earthly anguish, will +only plunge me into a possibly worse hereafter. Yet I shall surely take my life +before you see me again, and in that old house. If it is despair I feel, then +despair will take me there. If it is repentance, then repentance will suffice +to drive me to the one expiation possible to me—to perish where I caused +an innocent man to perish, and so relieve you of a wife who was never worthy of +you and whom it would be your duty to denounce if she let another sun rise upon +her guilt. +</p> + +<p> +“I did not stand there long between the wraiths of my murderous +ancestors. A message was shouted through the door—the message for which +my ears had been strained in dreadful anticipation for the last two hours. A +man named Pfeiffer wanted to see me before I went down to be married. <i>A man +named Pfeiffer!</i> +</p> + +<p> +“I looked closely at the boy who delivered this message. He showed no +excitement, nor any feeling greater than impatience at being kept waiting a +minute or so at the door. Then I glanced beyond him, at the people chatting in +the hall. No alarm there; nothing but a very natural surprise that the bride +should keep so big a crowd waiting. I felt that this fixed the event. He who +had sent me this quiet message was true to himself and to our old compact. He +had not published below what would have set the house in an uproar in a moment. +He had left his secret to be breathed into my ear alone. I could recall the +moment he passed me his word, and his firm look as he said, with his hand +lifted to Heaven ‘You have been good to me and given me your precious +self while I was poor and a nobody. In return, I swear to keep our marriage a +secret till great success shows me to be worthy of you or till you with your +own lips express forgiveness of my failure and grant me leave to speak. Nothing +but death or your permission shall ever unseal my lips.’ When I heard +that he was dead I feared lest he might have spoken, but now that I had seen +him alive, I knew that in no other breast, save his, my own and that of the +unknown minister in an almost unknown town, dwelt any knowledge of the fact +which stood between me and the marriage which all these people had come here to +see. My confidence in his rectitude determined me. Without conscious emotion, +without fear even,—the ending of suspense had ended all that,—I +told the boy to seat the gentleman in the library. Then— +</p> + +<p> +“I am haunted now, I am haunted always, by one vision, horrible but +persistent. It will not leave me; it rises between us now; it has stood between +us ever since I left that house with the seal of your affection on my lips. +Last night it terrified me into unconscious speech. I dreamed that I saw again, +and plainly, what I caught but a shadowy glimpse of in that murderous hour: a +man’s form seated at the end of the old settle, with his head leaning +back, in silent contemplation. His face was turned the other way—I +thanked God for that—no, I did not thank God; I never thought of God in +that moment of my blind feeling about for a chink and a spring in the wall. I +thought only of your impatience, and the people waiting, and the pleasure of +days to come when, free from this intolerable bond, I could keep my place at +your side and bear your name unreproved and taste to the full the awe and +delight of a passion such as few women ever feel, because few women were ever +loved by a man like you. Had my thoughts been elsewhere, my fingers might have +forgotten to fumble along that wall, and I had been simply wretched +today,—and innocent. Innocent! O, where in God’s universe can I be +made innocent again and fit to look in your face and to +love—heart-breaking thought—even to love you again? +</p> + +<p> +“To turn and turn a miserable crank after those moments of frenzied +action and silence—that was the hard part—that was what tried my +nerve and first robbed me of calmness. But I dared not leave that fearful thing +dangling there; I had to wind. The machinery squeaked, and its noise seemed to +fill the house, but no one came nor did the door below open. Sometimes I have +wished that it had. I should not then have been lured on and you would not have +become involved in my ruin. +</p> + +<p> +“I have heard many say that I looked radiant when I came down to be +married. The radiance was in their thoughts. Or if my face did shine, and if I +moved as if treading on air, it was because I had triumphed over all +difficulties and could pass down to the altar without fear of that interrupting +voice crying out: ‘I forbid! She is mine! The wife of William Pfeiffer +can not wed another!’ No such words could be dreaded now. The lips which +might have spoken them were dumb. I forgot that fleshless lips gibber loudest, +and that a lifetime, long or short, lay before me, in which to hear them mumble +and squeak their denunciation and threats. Oh, but I have been wretched! At +ball and dinner and dance those lips have been ever at my ear, but most when we +have sat alone together; most then; Oh, most then! +</p> + +<p> +“He is avenged; but you! Who will avenge you, and where will you ever +find happiness? +</p> + +<p> +“To blot myself from your memory I would go down deeper into the vale of +suffering than ever I have gone yet. But no, no! do not quite forget me. +Remember me as you saw me one night—the night you took the flower out of +my hair and kissed it, saying that Washington held many beautiful women, but +that none of them save myself had ever had the power to move your inmost +heart-strings. Ah, low was your voice and eloquent your eyes that hour, and I +forgot,—for a moment I forgot—everything but this pure love; and +the heartbeat it called up and the hope, never to be realized—that I +should live to hear you repeat the same sweet words in our old age, in just +such a tone and with just such a look. I was innocent at that moment, innocent +and good. I am willing that you should remember me as I was that night. +</p> + +<p> +“When I think of him lying cold and dead in the grave I myself dug for +him, my heart is like stone, but when I think of <i>you</i>— +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid to die; but I am more afraid of failing in courage. I shall +have the pistol tied to me; this will make it seem inevitable to use it. Oh! +that the next twenty-four hours could be blotted out of time! Such horror can +not be. I was born for joy and gaiety; yet no dismal depth of misery and fear +has been spared me! But all on account of my own act. I do not accuse God; I do +not accuse man; I only accuse myself, and my thoughtless grasping after +pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +“I want Cora to read this as well as you. She must know me dead as she +never knew me living. But I can not tell her that I have left a confession +behind me. She must come upon it unexpectedly, just as I mean you to do. Only +thus can it reach either of you with any power. If I could but think of some +excuse for sending her to the book where I propose to hide it! that would give +her a chance of reading it before you do, and this would be best. She may know +how to prepare or comfort you—I hope so. Cora is a noble woman, but the +secret which kept my thoughts in such a whirl has held us apart. +</p> + +<p> +“You did what I asked. You found a place for Rancher’s waiter in +the volunteer corps. Surprised as you were at the interest I expressed in him, +you honored my first request and said nothing. Would you have shown the same +anxious eagerness if you had known why I whispered those few words to him from +the carriage door? Why I could neither rest nor sleep till he and the other boy +were safely out of town? +</p> + +<p> +“I must leave a line for you to show to people if they should wonder why +I killed myself so soon after my seemingly happy marriage. You will find it in +the same book with this letter. Some one will tell you to look in the +book—I can not write any more. +</p> + +<p> +“I can not help writing. It is all that connects me now with life and +with you. But I have nothing more to say except, forgive—forgive— +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think that God looks at his wretched ones differently from what +men do? That He will have tenderness for one so sorry—that He will even +find place— But my mother is there! my father! Oh, that makes it fearful +to go—to meet— But it was my father who led me into this—only +he did not know— There! I will think only of God. +</p> + +<p> +“Good by—good by—good—” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +That was all. It ended, as it began, without name and without date,—the +final heart-throbs of a soul, awakened to its own act when it was quite too +late. A piteous memorial which daunted each one of us as we read it, and when +finished, drew us all together in the hall out of the sight and hearing of the +two persons most intimately concerned in it. +</p> + +<p> +Possibly because all had one thought—a thrilling one, which the major was +the first to give utterance to. +</p> + +<p> +“The man she killed was buried under the name of Wallace. How’s +that, if he was her husband, William?” +</p> + +<p> +An officer we had not before noted was standing near the front door. He came +forward at this and placed a second telegram in the superintendent’s +hand. It was from the same source as the one previously received and appeared +to settle this very question. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“I have just learned that the man married was not the one who kept store +in Owosso, but his brother William, who afterward died in Klondike. It is +Wallace whose death you are investigating.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“What snarl is here?” asked the major. +</p> + +<p> +“I think I understand,” I ventured to put in. “Her husband +was the one left on the road by the brother who staggered into camp for aid. He +was a weak man—the weaker of the two she said—and probably died, +while Wallace, after seemingly collapsing, recovered. This last she did not +know, having failed to read the whole of the newspaper slip which told about +it, and so when she saw some one with the Pfeiffer air and figure and was told +later that a Mr. Pfeiffer was waiting to see her, she took it for granted that +it was her husband, believing positively that Wallace was dead. The latter, +moreover, may have changed to look more like his brother in the time that had +elapsed.” +</p> + +<p> +“A possible explanation which adds greatly to the tragic aspects of the +situation. She was probably a widow when she touched the fatal spring. Who will +tell the man inside there? It will be his crowning blow.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap26"></a>XXVI.<br /> +RUDGE</h2> + +<p> +I never saw any good reason for my changing the opinion just expressed. Indeed, +as time went on and a further investigation was made into the life and +character of these two brothers, I came to think that not only had the unhappy +Veronica mistaken the person of Wallace Pfeiffer for that of her husband +William, but also the nature of the message he sent her and the motives which +actuated it; that the interview he so peremptorily demanded before she +descended to her nuptials would, had she but understood it properly, have +yielded her an immeasurable satisfaction instead of rousing in her alarmed +breast the criminal instincts of her race; that it was meant to do this; that +he, knowing William’s secret—a secret which the latter naturally +would confide to him at a moment so critical as that which witnessed their +parting in the desolate Klondike pass—had come, not to reproach her with +her new nuptials, but to relieve her mind in case she cherished the least doubt +of her full right to marry again, by assurances of her husband’s death +and of her own complete freedom. To this he may have intended to add some final +messages of love and confidence from the man she had been so ready to forget; +but nothing worse. Wallace Pfeiffer was incapable of anything worse, and if she +had only resigned herself to her seeming fate and consented to see this +man— +</p> + +<p> +But to return to fact and leave speculation to the now doubly wretched Jeffrey. +</p> + +<p> +On the evening of the day which saw our first recognition of this crime as the +work of Veronica Moore, the following notice appeared in the Star and all the +other local journals: +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“Any person who positively remembers passing through Waverley Avenue +between N and M Streets on the evening of May the eleventh at or near the hour +of a quarter past seven will confer a favor on the detective force of the +District by communicating the same to F. at the police headquarters in C +street.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +I was “F.,” and I was soon deep in business. But I was readily able +to identify those who came from curiosity, and as the persons who had really +fulfilled the conditions expressed in my advertisement were few, an evening and +morning’s work sufficed to sift the whole matter down to the one man who +could tell me just what I wanted to know. With this man I went to the major, +and as a result we all met later in the day at Mr. Moore’s door. +</p> + +<p> +This gentleman looked startled enough when he saw the number and character of +his visitors; but his grand air did not forsake him and his welcome was both +dignified and cordial. But I did not like the way his eye rested on me. +</p> + +<p> +But the slight venom visible in it at that moment was nothing to what he +afterwards displayed when at a slight growl from Rudge, who stood in an +attitude of offense in the doorway beyond, I drew the attention of all to the +dog by saying sharply: +</p> + +<p> +“There is our witness, sirs. There is the dog who will not cross the +street even when his master calls him, but crouches on the edge of the curb and +waits with eager eyes but immovable body, till that master comes back. +Isn’t that so, Mr. Moore? Have I not heard you utter more than one +complaint in this regard?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can not deny it,” was the stiff reply, “but +what—” +</p> + +<p> +I did not wait for him to finish. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Correan,” I asked, “is this the animal you gassed +between the hours of seven and eight on the evening of May the eleventh, +crouching in front of this house with his nose to the curbstone?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is; I noted him particularly; he seemed to be watching the opposite +house.” +</p> + +<p> +Instantly I turned upon Mr. Moore. +</p> + +<p> +“Is Rudge the dog to do that,” I asked, “if his master were +not there? Twice have I myself seen him in the self-same place and with the +self-same air of expectant attention, and both times you had crossed to the +house which you acknowledge he will approach no nearer than the curb on this +side of the street.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have me,” was the short reply with which Mr. Moore gave up the +struggle. “Rudge, go back to your place. When you are wanted in the +court-room I will let you know.” +</p> + +<p> +The smile with which he said this was sarcastic enough, but it was sarcasm +directed mainly against himself. We were not surprised when, after some sharp +persuasion on the part of the major, he launched into the following recital of +his secret relation to what he called the last tragedy ever likely to occur in +the Moore family. +</p> + +<p> +“I never thought it wrong to be curious about the old place; I never +thought it wrong to be curious about its mysteries. I only considered it wrong, +or at all events ill judged, to annoy Veronica, in regard to them, or to +trouble her in any way about the means by which I might effect an entrance into +its walls. So I took the one that offered and said nothing. +</p> + +<p> +“I have visited the old house many times during my sojourn in this little +cottage. The last time was, as one of your number has so ably discovered on the +most memorable night in its history; the one in which Mrs. Jeffrey’s +remarkable death occurred there. The interest roused in me by the unexpected +recurrence of the old fatality attending the library hearthstone reached its +culmination when I perceived one night the glint of a candle burning in the +southwest chamber. I did not know who was responsible for this light, but I +strongly suspected it to be Mr. Jeffrey; for who else would dare to light a +candle in this disused house without first seeing that all the shutters were +fast? I did not dislike Mr. Jeffrey or question his right to do this. +Nevertheless I was very angry. Though allied to a Moore he was not one himself +and the difference in our privileges affected me strongly. Consequently I +watched till he came out and upon positively recognizing his figure vowed in my +wrath and jealous indignation to visit the old house myself on the following +night and make one final attempt to learn the secret which would again make me +the equal of this man, if not his superior. +</p> + +<p> +“It was early when I went; indeed it was not quite dark, but knowing the +gloom of those old halls and the almost impenetrable nature of the darkness +that settles over the library the moment the twilight set in, I put in my +pocket two or three candles, <i>the</i> candles, sirs, about which you have made such a coil. My +errand was twofold. I wanted first to see what Mr. Jeffrey had been up to the +night before, and next, to spend an hour over a certain book of old memoirs +which in recalling the past might explain the present. You remember a door +leading into the library from the rear room. It was by this door I entered, +bringing with me from the kitchen the chair you afterwards found there. +</p> + +<p> +I knew where the volume of memoirs I speak of was to be found—you do, +too, I see—for it was my hand which had placed it in its present +concealment. Quite determined to reread such portions of it, as I had long +before marked as pertinent to the very attempt I had in mind, I brought in the +candelabrum from the parlor and drew out a table to hold it. But I waited a few +moments before taking down the book itself. I wanted first to learn what Mr. +Jeffrey had been doing upstairs the night before. So leaving the light burning +in the library, I proceeded to the southwest chamber, holding an unlit candle +in my hand, the light feebly diffused through the halls from some upper windows +being sufficient for me to see my way. But in the chamber itself all was dark. +</p> + +<p> +“The wind had not yet risen and the shutter which a half-hour later moved +so restlessly on its creaking hinges, hugged the window so tightly that I +imagined Mr. Jeffrey had fastened it the night before. Looking for some +receptacle in which to set the candle I now lit, I failed to find anything but +an empty tumbler, so I made use of that. Then I glanced about me, but seeing +nothing worth my attention—Mrs. Jeffrey’s wedding fixings did not +interest me, and everything else about the room looking natural except the +overturned chair, which struck me as immaterial. I hurried downstairs again, +leaving the candle burning behind me in case I should wish to return aloft +after I had refreshed my mind with what had been written about this old room. +</p> + +<p> +“Not a sound disturbed the house as I seated myself to my reading in +front of the library shelves. I was as much alone under that desolate roof as +mortal could be with men anywhere within reach of him. I enjoyed the solitude +and was making a very pretty theory for myself on a scrap of paper I tore from +another old book when a noise suddenly rose in front, which, slight as it was, +was quite unmistakable to ears trained in listening. Some one was unlocking the +front door. +</p> + +<p> +“Naturally I thought it to be Mr. Jeffrey returning for a second visit to +his wife’s house, and knowing what I might expect if he surprised me on +the premises, I restored the book hastily to its place and as hastily blew out +the candle. Then, with every intention of flight, I backed toward the door by +which I had entered. But some impulse stronger than that of escape made me stop +just before I reached it. I could see nothing; the place was dark as Tophet; +but I could listen. The person—Mr. Jeffrey, or some other—was +coming my way and in perfect darkness. I could hear the faltering +steps—the fingers dragging along the walls; then a rustle as of skirts, +proving the intruder to be a woman—a fact which greatly surprised +me—then a long drawn sigh or gasp. +</p> + +<p> +“The last determined me. The situation was too intense for me to leave +without first learning who the woman was who in terror and shrinking dared to +drag her half resisting feet through these empty halls and into a place cursed +with such unwholesome memories. I did not think of Veronica. No one looks for a +butterfly in the depths of a dungeon. But I did think of Miss Tuttle—that +woman of resolute will. Without attempting to imaging the reason for her +presence, I stood my ground and harkened till the heavy mahogany door at the +other end of the room began to swing in by jerks under the faint and tremulous +push of a terrified hand. Then there came silence—a long +silence—followed by a moan so agonized that I realized that whatever was +the cause of this panting woman’s presence here, it was due to no mere +errand of curiosity. This whetted my purpose. Anything done in this house was +in a way done to me; so I remained quiet and watched. But the sounds which now +and then came from the remote corner upon which my attention was concentrated +were very eloquent. +</p> + +<p> +“I heard sighs and bitter groans, with now and then a murmured prayer, +broken by a low wailing, in which I caught the name of Francis. And still, +possibly on account of the utterance of this name, I thought the woman near me +to be Miss Tuttle, and even went so far as to imagine the cause of her +suffering if not the nature of her retribution. Words succeeded cries and I +caught phrases expressive of fear and some sort of agonized hesitation. Once +these broken ejaculations were interrupted by a dull sound. Something had +dropped to the bare floor. We shall never know what it was, but I have no doubt +that it was the pistol, and that the marks of dust to be found on the +connecting ribbon were made by her own fingers in taking it again in her hand. +(You will remember that these same fingers had but a few minutes previous +groped their way along the walls.) For her voice soon took a different tone, +and such unintelligible phrases as these could be heard issuing from her partly +paralyzed lips: +</p> + +<p> +“‘I must!—I can never meet his eye again alive. He would +despise— Brave enough to—to—another’s +blood—coward—when—own. Oh, God! forgive!’ Then another +silence during which I almost made up my mind to interfere, then a loud report +and a flash so startling and unexpected that I recoiled, during which the room +leaped into sudden view—she too—Veronica—with baby face drawn +and set like a woman’s—then darkness again and a heavy fall which +shook the floor, if not my hard old heart. The flash and that fall enlightened +me. I had just witnessed the suicide of the last Moore saving myself; a suicide +for which I was totally unprepared and one which I do not yet +understand. +</p> + +<p> +“I did not go over to her. She was as dead when she fell as she ever +would be. In the flash which lit everything, I had seen where her pistol was +pointed. Why disturb her then? Nor did I return upstairs. I had small interest +now in anything but my own escape from a situation more or less compromising. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you blame me for this? I was her heir and I was where I had no legal +right to be. Do you think that I was called upon to publish my shame and tell +how I lingered there while my own niece shot herself before my eyes? That shot +made me a millionaire. This certainly was excitement enough for one +day—besides, I did not leave her there neglected. I notified you +later—after I had got my breath and had found some excuse. That +wasn’t enough? Ah, I see that <i>you</i> are all models of courage and +magnanimity. You would have laid yourselves open to every reproach rather than +let a little necessary perjury pass your lips. But I am no model. I am simply +an old man who has been too hardly dealt with for seventy long years to possess +every virtue. I made a mistake—I see it now—trusted a dog when I +shouldn’t—but if Rudge had not seen ghosts—well, what +now?” +</p> + +<p> +We had, one and all, with an involuntary impulse, turned our backs upon him. +</p> + +<p> +“What are you doing?” he hotly demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“Only what all Washington will do tomorrow, and afterwards the whole +world,” gravely returned the major. Then, as an ejaculation escaped the +astonished millionaire, he impressively added: “A perjury which allows an +innocent man and woman to remain under the suspicion of murder for five weeks +is one which not only the law has a right to punish, but which all society will +condemn. Henceforth you will find yourself under a ban, Mr. +Moore.”<a href="#fn-2" name="fnref-2" id="fnref-2"><sup>[1]</sup></a> +</p> + +<p> +My story ends here. The matter never came before the grand jury. Suicide had +been proved, and there the affair rested. Of myself it is enough to add that I +sometimes call in Durbin to help me in a big case. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-2" id="fn-2"></a> <a href="#fnref-2">[1]</a> +Time amply verified this prophecy. Mr. Moore is living in great style in the +Moore house, and drives horses which are conspicuous even in Washington. But no +one accepts his invitations, and he is as much of a recluse in his present +mansion as he ever was in the humble cottage in which his days of penury were +spent. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap27"></a>XXVII.<br /> +“YOU HAVE COME! YOU HAVE SOUGHT ME!”</h2> + +<p> +These are some words from a letter written a few months after the foregoing by +one Mrs. Edward Truscott to a friend in New York: +</p> + +<p class="right"> +“Edinburgh, May 7th, 1900. +</p> + +<p> +“Dear Louisa:—You have always accused me of seeing more and hearing +more than any other person of your acquaintance. Perhaps I am fortunate in that +respect. Certainly I have been favored today with an adventure of some interest +which I make haste to relate to you. +</p> + +<p> +“Being anxious to take home with me some sketches of the exquisite +ornamentation in the Rosslyn chapel about which I wrote you so enthusiastically +the other day, I took advantage of Edward’s absence this morning to visit +the place again and this time alone. The sky was clear and the air balmy, and +as I approached the spot from the near-by station I was not surprised to see +another woman straying quietly about the exterior of the chapel gazing at walls +which, interesting as they are, are but a rough shell hiding the incomparable +beauties within. I noticed this lady; I could not help it. She was one to +attract any eye. Seldom have I seen such grace, such beauty, and both infused +by such melancholy. Her sadness added wonderfully to her charm, and I found it +hard enough to pass her with the single glance allowable to a stranger, +especially as she gave evidence of being one of my own countrywomen: +</p> + +<p> +“However, I saw no alternative, and once within the charmed edifice, +forgot everything in the congenial task I had set for myself. For some reason +the chapel was deserted at this moment by all but me. As the special +scroll-work I wanted was in a crypt down a short flight of steps at the right +of the altar, I was completely hidden from view to any one entering above and +was enjoying both my seclusion and the opportunity it gave me of carrying out +my purpose unwatched when I heard a light step above and realized that the +exquisite beauty which had so awakened my admiration had at last found its +perfect setting. Such a face amid such exquisite surroundings was a rare sight, +and interested as I always am in artistic effects I was about to pocket pencil +and pad and make my way up to where she moved among the carved pillars when I +heard a soft sigh above and caught the rustle of her dress as she sat down upon +a bench at the head of the steps near which I stood. Somehow that sigh deterred +me. I hesitated to break in upon a melancholy so invincible that even the sight +of all this loveliness could not charm it away, and in that moment of +hesitation something occurred above which fixed me to my place in irrepressible +curiosity. +</p> + +<p> +“Another step had entered the open door of the chapel—a man’s +step—eager and with a purpose in it eloquent of something deeper than a +mere tourist’s interest in this loveliest of interiors. The cry which +escaped her lips, the tone in which he breathed her name in his hurried +advance, convinced me that this was a meeting of two lovers after a long +heart-break and that I should mar the supreme moment of their lives by +intruding into it the unwelcome presence of a stranger. So I lingered where I +was and thus heard what passed between them at this moment of all moments ire +their lives. +</p> + +<p> +“It was she who spoke first. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Francis, you have come! You have sought me!’ +</p> + +<p> +“To which he replied in choked accents which yet could not conceal the +inexpressible elation of his heart: +</p> + +<p> +“‘Yes I have come, I have sought you. Why did you fly? Did you not +see that my whole soul was turning to you as it never turned even to—to +her in the best days of our unshaken love; and that I could never rest till I +found you and told you how the eyes which have once been blind enjoy a passion +of seeing unknown to others—a passion which makes the object seem so +dear—so dear—’ +</p> + +<p> +“He paused, perhaps to look at her, perhaps to recover his own +self-possession, and I caught the echo of a sigh of such utter content and +triumph from her lips that I was surprised when in another moment she exclaimed +in a tone so thrilling that I am sure no common circumstances had separated +this pair: +</p> + +<p> +“‘Have we a right to happiness while she— Oh, Francis, I can +not! She loved you. It was her love for you which drove her—’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Cora!’ came with a sort of loving authority, ‘we have +buried our erring one and passionately as I loved her, she is no more mine, but +God’s. Let her woeful spirit rest. You who suffered, supported—who +sacrificed all that woman holds dear to save what, in the nature of things, +could not be saved—have more than right to happiness if it is in my power +to give it to you; I, who have failed in so much, but never in anything more +than in not seeing where true worth and real beauty lay. Cora, there is but one +hand which can lift the shadow from my life. That hand I am holding +now—do not draw it away—it is my anchor, my hope. I dare not +confront life without the promise it holds out. I should be a +wreck—’ +</p> + +<p> +“His emotion stopped him and there was silence; then I heard him utter +solemnly, as befitted the place: ‘Thank God!’ and I knew that she +had turned her wonderful eyes upon him or nestled her hand in his clasp as only +a loving woman may. +</p> + +<p> +“The next moment I heard them draw away and leave the place. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you wonder that I long to know who they are and what their story is +and whom they meant by ‘the erring one?’” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block;margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FILIGREE BALL ***</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This file should be named 2371-h.htm or 2371-h.zip</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in https://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/7/2371/</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law 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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