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-rw-r--r--.gitattributes3
-rw-r--r--25388-8.txt9408
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Herapath Property, by J. S. Fletcher
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Herapath Property
+
+Author: J. S. Fletcher
+
+Release Date: May 8, 2008 [EBook #25388]
+Last updated: January 31, 2009
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HERAPATH PROPERTY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Andrew Wainwright, Suzanne Shell and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ THE
+
+ H E R A P A T H
+
+ P R O P E R T Y
+
+
+ BY
+ J. S. FLETCHER
+
+
+ NEW YORK
+ ALFRED · A · KNOPF
+ MCMXXII
+
+
+
+
+ COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY
+ ALFRED A. KNOPF, INC.
+
+ _Published October, 1921_
+
+ _Second Printing, May, 1922_
+
+ PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAPTER
+
+ I JACOB HERAPATH IS MISSING, 9
+ II IS IT MURDER? 18
+ III BARTHORPE TAKES CHARGE, 27
+ IV THE PRESSMAN, 36
+ V THE GLASS AND THE SANDWICH, 45
+ VI THE TAXI-CAB DRIVER, 54
+ VII IS THERE A WILL? 64
+ VIII THE SECOND WITNESS, 74
+ IX GREEK AGAINST GREEK, 83
+ X MR. BENJAMIN HALFPENNY, 91
+ XI THE SHADOW, 100
+ XII FOR TEN PER CENT, 109
+ XIII ADJOURNED, 118
+ XIV THE SCOTTISH VERDICT, 127
+ XV YOUNG BRAINS, 136
+ XVI NAMELESS FEAR, 145
+ XVII THE LAW, 154
+ XVIII THE ROSEWOOD BOX, 163
+ XIX WEAVING THE NET, 172
+ XX THE DIAMOND RING, 181
+ XXI THE DESERTED FLAT, 190
+ XXII YEA AND NAY, 199
+ XXIII THE ACCUSATION, 208
+ XXIV COLD STEEL, 217
+ XXV PROFESSIONAL ANALYSIS, 226
+ XXVI THE REMAND PRISON, 235
+ XXVII THE LAST CHEQUE, 244
+ XXVIII THE HOTEL RAVENNA, 253
+ XXIX THE NOTE IN THE PRAYER-BOOK, 263
+ XXX THE WHITE-HAIRED LADY, 273
+ XXXI THE INTERRUPTED DINNER-PARTY, 283
+ XXXII THE YORKSHIRE PROVERB, 290
+ XXXIII BURCHILL FILLS THE STAGE, 294
+ XXXIV DAVIDGE'S TRUMP CARD, 304
+ XXXV THE SECOND WARRANT, 312
+
+
+
+
+ THE
+
+ HERAPATH
+
+ PROPERTY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+JACOB HERAPATH IS MISSING
+
+
+This was the third week of Selwood's secretaryship to Jacob Herapath.
+Herapath was a well-known man in London. He was a Member of Parliament,
+the owner of a sort of model estate of up-to-date flats, and something
+of a crank about such matters as ventilation, sanitation, and lighting.
+He himself, a bachelor, lived in one of the best houses in Portman
+Square; when he engaged Selwood as his secretary he made him take a
+convenient set of rooms in Upper Seymour Street, close by. He also
+caused a telephone communication to be set up between his own house and
+Selwood's bedroom, so that he could summon his secretary at any hour of
+the night. Herapath occasionally had notions about things in the small
+hours, and he was one of those active, restless persons who, if they get
+a new idea, like to figure on it at once. All the same, during those
+three weeks he had not once troubled his secretary in this fashion. No
+call came to Selwood over that telephone until half-past seven one
+November morning, just as he was thinking of getting out of bed. And the
+voice which then greeted him was not Herapath's. It was a rather anxious,
+troubled voice, and it belonged to one Kitteridge, a middle-aged man, who
+was Herapath's butler.
+
+In the act of summoning Selwood, Kitteridge was evidently interrupted by
+some person at his elbow; all that Selwood made out was that Kitteridge
+wanted him to go round at once. He dressed hurriedly, and ran off to
+Herapath's house; there in the hall, near the door of a room which
+Herapath used as a study and business room, he found Kitteridge talking
+to Mountain, Herapath's coachman, who, judging by the state of his
+attire, had also been called hurriedly from his bed.
+
+"What is it, Kitteridge?" demanded Selwood. "Mr. Herapath ill?"
+
+The butler shook his head and jerked his thumb towards the open door of
+the study.
+
+"The fact is, we don't know where Mr. Herapath is, sir," he answered.
+"He hasn't slept in his bed, and he isn't in the house."
+
+"Possibly he didn't come home last night," suggested Selwood. "He may
+have slept at his club, or at an hotel."
+
+The butler and the coachman looked at each other--then the coachman, a
+little, sharp-eyed man who was meditatively chewing a bit of straw,
+opened his tightly-compressed lips.
+
+"He did come home, sir," he said. "I drove him home--as usual. I saw him
+let himself into the house. One o'clock sharp, that was. Oh, yes, he
+came home!"
+
+"He came home," repeated Kitteridge. "Look here, sir." He led the way
+into the study and pointed to a small table set by the side of
+Herapath's big business desk. "You see that tray, Mr. Selwood? That's
+always left out, there, on that table, for Mr. Herapath every night. A
+small decanter of whiskey, a syphon, a few sandwiches, a dry biscuit or
+two. Well, there you are, sir--he's had a drink out of that glass, he's
+had a mouthful or so of sandwiches. Oh, yes, he came home, but he's not
+at home now! Charlesworth--the valet, you know, sir--always goes into
+Mr. Herapath's room at a quarter past seven every morning; when he went
+in just now he found that Mr. Herapath wasn't there, and the bed hadn't
+been slept in. So--that's where things stand."
+
+Selwood looked round the room. The curtains had not yet been drawn
+aside, and the electric light cast a cold glare on the various
+well-known objects and fittings. He glanced at the evidences of the
+supper tray; then at the blotting-pad on Herapath's desk; there he might
+have left a note for his butler or his secretary. But there was no note
+to be seen.
+
+"Still, I don't see that there's anything to be alarmed about,
+Kitteridge," he said. "Mr. Herapath may have wanted to go somewhere by a
+very early morning train----"
+
+"No, sir, excuse me, that won't do," broke in the butler. "I thought of
+that myself. But if he'd wanted to catch a night train, he'd have taken
+a travelling coat, and a rug, and a bag of some sort--he's taken nothing
+at all in that way. Besides, I've been in this house seven years, and I
+know his habits. If he'd wanted to go away by one of the very early
+morning trains he'd have kept me and Charlesworth up, making ready for
+him. No, sir! He came home, and went out again--must have done.
+And--it's uncommonly queer. Seven years I've been here, as I say, and he
+never did such a thing before."
+
+Selwood turned to the coachman.
+
+"You brought Mr. Herapath home at one o'clock?" he said. "Alone?"
+
+"He was alone, sir," replied the coachman, who had been staring around him
+as if to seek some solution of the mystery. "I'll tell you all that
+happened--I was just beginning to tell Mr. Kitteridge here when you come
+in. I fetched Mr. Herapath from the House of Commons last night at a
+quarter past eleven--took him up in Palace Yard at the usual spot, just as
+the clock was striking. 'Mountain,' he says, 'I want you to drive round to
+the estate office--I want to call there.' So I drove there--that's in
+Kensington, as you know, sir. When he got out he says, 'Mountain,' he
+says, 'I shall be three-quarters of an hour or so here--wrap the mare up
+and walk her about,' he says. I did as he said, but he was more than
+three-quarters--it was like an hour. Then at last he came back to the
+brougham, just said one word, 'Home!' and I drove him here, and the clocks
+were striking one when he got out. He said 'Good night,' and I saw him
+walk up the steps and put his key in the latch as I drove off to our
+stables. And that's all I know about it."
+
+Selwood turned to the butler.
+
+"I suppose no one was up at that time?" he inquired.
+
+"Nobody, sir," answered Kitteridge. "There never is. Mr. Herapath, as
+you've no doubt observed, is a bit strict in the matter of rules, and
+it's one of his rules that everybody in the house must be in bed by
+eleven-thirty. No one was ever to sit up for him on any occasion. That's
+why this supper-tray was always left ready. His usual time for coming in
+when he'd been at the House was twelve o'clock."
+
+"Everybody in the house might be in bed," observed Selwood, "but not
+everybody might be asleep. Have you made any inquiry as to whether
+anybody heard Mr. Herapath moving about in the night, or leaving the
+house? Somebody may have heard the hall door opened and closed, you
+know."
+
+"I'll make inquiry as to that, sir," responded Kitteridge, "but I've
+heard nothing of the sort so far, and all the servants are aware by now
+that Mr. Herapath isn't in the house. If anybody had heard anything----"
+
+Before the butler could say more the study door opened and a girl came
+into the room. At sight of her Selwood spoke hurriedly to Kitteridge.
+
+"Have you told Miss Wynne?" he whispered. "Does she know?"
+
+"She may have heard from her maid, sir," replied Kitteridge in low
+tones. "Of course they're all talking of it. I was going to ask to see
+Miss Wynne as soon as she was dressed."
+
+By that time the girl had advanced towards the three men, and Selwood
+stepped forward to meet her. He knew her as Herapath's niece, the
+daughter of a dead sister of whom Herapath had been very fond; he knew,
+too, that Herapath had brought her up from infancy and treated her as a
+daughter. She was at this time a young woman of twenty-one or two, a
+pretty, eminently likeable young woman, with signs of character and
+resource in eyes and lips, and Selwood had seen enough of her to feel
+sure that in any disturbing event she would keep her head. She spoke
+calmly enough as the secretary met her.
+
+"What's all this, Mr. Selwood?" she asked. "I understand my uncle is not
+in the house. But there's nothing alarming in that, Kitteridge, is
+there? Mr. Herapath may have gone away during the night, you know."
+
+"Kitteridge thinks that highly improbable," replied Selwood. "He says
+that Mr. Herapath had made no preparation for a sudden journey, has
+taken no travelling coat or rug, or luggage of any sort."
+
+"Did he come in from the House?" she asked. "Perhaps not?"
+
+Kitteridge pointed to the supper-tray and then indicated the coachman.
+
+"He came in as usual, miss," he replied. "Or rather an hour later than
+usual. Mountain brought him home at one o'clock, and he saw him let
+himself in with his latch-key."
+
+Peggie Wynne turned to the coachman.
+
+"You're sure that he entered the house?" she asked.
+
+"As sure as I could be, miss," replied Mountain. "He was putting his key
+in the door when I drove off."
+
+"He must have come in," said Kitteridge, pointing to the tray. "He had
+something after he got in."
+
+"Well, go and tell the servants not to talk, Kitteridge," said Peggie.
+"My uncle, no doubt, had reasons for going out again. Have you said
+anything to Mr. Tertius?"
+
+"Mr. Tertius isn't down yet, miss," answered the butler.
+
+He left the room, followed by the coachman, and Peggie turned to
+Selwood. "What do you think?" she asked, with a slight show of anxiety.
+"You don't know of any reason for this, do you?"
+
+"None," replied Selwood. "And as to what I think, I don't know
+sufficient about Mr. Herapath's habits to be able to judge."
+
+"He never did anything like this before," she remarked. "I know that he
+sometimes gets up in the middle of the night and comes down here, but I
+never knew him to go out. If he'd been setting off on a sudden journey
+he'd surely have let me know. Perhaps----"
+
+She paused suddenly, seeing Selwood lift his eyes from the papers
+strewn about the desk to the door. She, too, turned in the same
+direction.
+
+A man had come quietly into the room--a slightly-built, little man,
+grey-bearded, delicate-looking, whose eyes were obscured by a pair of
+dark-tinted spectacles. He moved gently and with an air of habitual
+shyness, and Selwood, who was naturally observant, saw that his lips and
+his hands were trembling slightly as he came towards them.
+
+"Mr. Tertius," said Peggie, "do you know anything about Uncle Jacob? He
+came in during the night--one o'clock--and now he's disappeared. Did he
+say anything to you about going away early this morning?"
+
+Mr. Tertius shook his head.
+
+"No--no--nothing!" he answered. "Disappeared! Is it certain he came in?"
+
+"Mountain saw him come in," she said. "Besides, he had a drink out of
+that glass, and he ate something from the tray--see!"
+
+Mr. Tertius bent his spectacled eyes over the supper tray and remained
+looking at what he saw there for a while. Then he looked up, and at
+Selwood.
+
+"Strange!" he remarked. "And yet, you know, he is a man who does things
+without saying a word to any one. Have you, now, thought of telephoning
+to the estate office? He may have gone there."
+
+Peggie, who had dropped into the chair at Herapath's desk, immediately
+jumped up.
+
+"Of course we must do that at once!" she exclaimed. "Come to the
+telephone, Mr. Selwood--we may hear something."
+
+She and Selwood left the room together. When they had gone, Mr. Tertius
+once more bent over the supper tray. He picked up the empty glass,
+handling it delicately; he held it between himself and the electric
+light over the desk; he narrowly inspected it, inside and out. Then he
+turned his attention to the plate of sandwiches. One sandwich had been
+taken from the plate and bitten into--once. Mr. Tertius took up that
+sandwich with the tips of his delicately-shaped fingers. He held that,
+too, nearer the light. And having looked at it he hastily selected an
+envelope from the stationery cabinet on the desk, carefully placed the
+sandwich within it, and set off to his own rooms in the upper part of
+the house. As he passed through the hall he heard Selwood at the
+telephone, which was installed in a small apartment at the foot of the
+stairs--he was evidently already in communication with some one at the
+Herapath Estate Office.
+
+Mr. Tertius went straight to his room, stayed there a couple of minutes,
+and went downstairs again. Selwood and Peggie Wynne were just coming
+away from the telephone; they looked up at him with faces grave with
+concern.
+
+"We're wanted at the estate office," said Selwood. "The caretaker was
+just going to ring us up when I got through to him. Something is
+wrong--wrong with Mr. Herapath."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+IS IT MURDER?
+
+
+It struck Selwood, afterwards, as a significant thing that it was
+neither he nor Mr. Tertius who took the first steps towards immediate
+action. Even as he spoke, Peggie was summoning the butler, and her
+orders were clear and precise.
+
+"Kitteridge," she said quietly, "order Robson to bring the car round at
+once--as quickly as possible. In the meantime, send some coffee into the
+breakfast-room--breakfast itself must wait until we return. Make haste,
+Kitteridge."
+
+Selwood turned on her with a doubtful look.
+
+"You--you aren't going down there?" he asked.
+
+"Of course I am!" she answered. "Do you think I should wait here--wondering
+what had happened? We will all go--come and have some coffee, both of you,
+while we wait for the car."
+
+The two followed her into the breakfast-room and silently drank the
+coffee which she presently poured out for them. She, too, was silent,
+but when she had left the room to make ready for the drive Mr. Tertius
+turned to Selwood.
+
+"You heard--what?" he asked.
+
+"Nothing definite," answered Selwood. "All I heard was that Mr.
+Herapath was there, and there was something seriously wrong, and would
+we go down at once."
+
+Mr. Tertius made no comment. He became thoughtful and abstracted, and
+remained so during the journey down to Kensington. Peggie, too, said
+nothing as they sped along; as for Selwood, he was wondering what had
+happened, and reflecting on this sudden stirring up of mystery. There was
+mystery within that car--in the person of Mr. Tertius. During his three
+weeks' knowledge of the Herapath household Selwood had constantly wondered
+who Mr. Tertius was, what his exact relationship was, what his position
+really was. He knew that he lived in Jacob Herapath's house, but in a
+sense he was not of the family. He seldom presented himself at Herapath's
+table, he was rarely seen about the house; Selwood remembered seeing him
+occasionally in Herapath's study or in Peggie Wynne's drawing-room. He had
+learnt sufficient to know that Mr. Tertius had rooms of his own in the
+house; two rooms in some upper region; one room on the ground-floor. Once
+Selwood had gained a peep into that ground-floor room, and had seen that
+it was filled with books, and that its table was crowded with papers, and
+he had formed the notion that Mr. Tertius was some book-worm or antiquary,
+to whom Jacob Herapath for some reason or other gave house-room. That
+he was no relation Selwood judged from the way in which he was always
+addressed by Herapath and by Peggie Wynne. To them as to all the servants
+he was Mr. Tertius--whether that was his surname or not, Selwood did not
+know.
+
+There was nothing mysterious or doubtful about the great pile of buildings
+at which the automobile presently stopped. They were practical and
+concrete facts. Most people in London knew the famous Herapath Flats--they
+had aroused public interest from the time that their founder began
+building them.
+
+Jacob Herapath, a speculator in real estate, had always cherished a
+notion of building a mass of high-class residential flats on the most
+modern lines. Nothing of the sort which he contemplated, he said,
+existed in London--when the opportunity came he would show the building
+world what could and should be done. The opportunity came when a parcel
+of land in Kensington fell into the market--Jacob Herapath made haste to
+purchase it, and he immediately began building on it. The result was a
+magnificent mass of buildings which possessed every advantage and
+convenience--to live in a Herapath flat was to live in luxury.
+Incidentally, no one could live in one who was not prepared to pay a
+rental of anything from five to fifteen hundred a year. The gross rental
+of the Herapath Flats was enormous--the net profits were enough to make
+even a wealthy man's mouth water. And Selwood, who already knew all
+this, wondered, as they drove away, where all this wealth would go if
+anything had really happened to its creator.
+
+The entrance to the Herapath estate office was in an archway which led
+to one of the inner squares of the great buildings. When the car stopped
+at it, Selwood saw that there were police within the open doorway. One
+of them, an inspector, came forward, looking dubiously at Peggie Wynne.
+Selwood hastened out of the car and made for him.
+
+"I'm Mr. Herapath's secretary--Mr. Selwood," he said, drawing the
+inspector out of earshot. "Is anything seriously wrong?--better tell me
+before Miss Wynne hears. He isn't--dead?"
+
+The inspector gave him a warning look.
+
+"That's it, sir," he answered in a low voice. "Found dead by the
+caretaker in his private office. And it's here--Mr. Selwood, it's either
+suicide or murder. That's flat!"
+
+Selwood got his two companions inside the building and into a waiting-room.
+Peggie turned on him at once.
+
+"I see you know," she said. "Tell me at once what it is. Don't be afraid,
+Mr. Selwood--I'm not likely to faint nor to go into hysterics. Neither is
+Mr. Tertius. Tell us--is it the worst?"
+
+"Yes," said Selwood. "It is."
+
+"He is dead?" she asked in a low voice. "You are sure? Dead?"
+
+Selwood bent his head by way of answer; when he looked up again the girl
+had bent hers, but she quickly lifted it, and except that she had grown
+pale, she showed no outward sign of shock or emotion. As for Mr.
+Tertius, he, too, was calm--and it was he who first broke the silence.
+
+"How was it?" he asked. "A seizure?"
+
+Selwood hesitated. Then, seeing that he had to deal with two people who
+were obviously in full control of themselves, he decided to tell the
+truth.
+
+"I'm afraid you must be prepared to hear some unpleasant news," he said,
+with a glance at the inspector, who just then quietly entered the room.
+"The police say it is either a case of suicide or of murder."
+
+Peggie looked sharply from Selwood to the police official, and a sudden
+flush of colour flamed into her cheeks.
+
+"Suicide?" she exclaimed. "Never! Murder? That may be. Tell me what you
+have found," she went on eagerly. "Don't keep things back!--don't you
+see I want to know?"
+
+The inspector closed the door and came nearer to where the three were
+standing.
+
+"Perhaps I'd better tell you what we do know," he said. "Our station was
+rung up by the caretaker here at five minutes past eight. He said Mr.
+Herapath had just been found lying on the floor of his private room, and
+they were sure something was wrong, and would we come round. I came
+myself with one of our plain-clothes men who happened to be in, and our
+surgeon followed us a few minutes later. We found Mr. Herapath lying
+across the hearthrug in his private room, quite dead. Close by----" He
+paused and looked dubiously at Peggie. "The details are not pleasant,"
+he said meaningly. "Shall I omit them?"
+
+"No!" answered Peggie with decision. "Please omit nothing. Tell us
+all."
+
+"There was a revolver lying close by Mr. Herapath's right hand,"
+continued the inspector. "One chamber had been discharged. Mr. Herapath
+had been shot through the right temple, evidently at close quarters. I
+should say--and our surgeon says--he had died instantly. And--I think
+that's all I need say just now."
+
+Peggie, who had listened to this with unmoved countenance, involuntarily
+stepped towards the door.
+
+"Let us go to him," she said. "I suppose he's still here?"
+
+But there Selwood, just as involuntarily, asserted an uncontrollable
+instinct. He put himself between the door and the girl.
+
+"No!" he said firmly, wondering at himself for his insistence. "Don't!
+There's no need for that--yet. You mustn't go. Mr. Tertius----"
+
+"Better not just yet, miss," broke in the inspector. "The doctor is
+still here. Afterwards, perhaps. If you would wait here while these
+gentlemen go with me."
+
+Peggie hesitated a moment; then she turned away and sat down.
+
+"Very well," she said.
+
+The inspector silently motioned the two men to follow him; with his hand
+on the door Selwood turned again to Peggie.
+
+"You will stay here?" he said. "You won't follow us?"
+
+"I shall stay here," she answered. "Stop a minute--there's one thing
+that should be thought of. My cousin Barthorpe----"
+
+"Mr. Barthorpe Herapath has been sent for, miss--he'll be here
+presently," replied the inspector. "The caretaker's telephoned to him.
+Now gentlemen."
+
+He led the way along a corridor to a room with which Selwood was
+familiar enough--an apartment of some size which Jacob Herapath used as
+a business office and kept sacred to himself and his secretary. When he
+was in it no one ever entered that room except at Herapath's bidding;
+now there were strangers in it who had come there unbidden, and Herapath
+lay in their midst, silent for ever. They had laid the lifeless body on
+a couch, and Selwood and Mr. Tertius bent over it for a moment before
+they turned to the other men in the room. The dead face was calm enough;
+there was no trace of sudden fear on it, no signs of surprise or anger
+or violent passion.
+
+"If you'll look here, gentlemen," said the police-inspector, motioning
+them towards the broad hearthrug. "This is how things were--nothing had
+been touched when we arrived. He was lying from there to here--he'd
+evidently slipped down and sideways out of that chair, and had fallen
+across the rug. The revolver was lying a few inches from his right hand.
+Here it is."
+
+He pulled open a drawer as he spoke and produced a revolver which he
+carefully handled as he showed it to Selwood and Mr. Tertius.
+
+"Have either of you gentlemen ever seen that before?" he asked. "I
+mean--do you recognize it as having belonged to--him? You don't? Never
+seen it before, either of you? Well, of course he might have kept a
+revolver in his private desk or in his safe, and nobody would have
+known. We shall have to make an exhaustive search and see if we can find
+any cartridges or anything. However, that's what we found--and, as I
+said before, one chamber had been discharged. The doctor here says the
+revolver had been fired at close quarters."
+
+Mr. Tertius, who had watched and listened with marked attention, turned
+to the police surgeon.
+
+"The wound may have been self-inflicted?" he asked.
+
+"From the position of the body, and of the revolver, there is strong
+presumption that it was," replied the doctor.
+
+"Yet--it may not have been?" suggested Mr. Tertius, mildly.
+
+The doctor shrugged his shoulders. It was easy to see what his own
+opinion was.
+
+"It may not have been--as you say," he answered. "But if he was shot by
+some other person--murdered, that is--the murderer must have been
+standing either close at his side, or immediately behind him. Of this I
+am certain--he was sitting in that chair, at his desk, when the shot was
+fired."
+
+"And--what would the immediate effect be?" asked Mr. Tertius.
+
+"He would probably start violently, make as if to rise, drop forward
+against the desk and gradually--but quickly--subside to the floor in the
+position in which he was found," replied the doctor. "As he fell he
+would relinquish his grip on the revolver--it is invariably a tight grip
+in these cases--and it would fall--just where it was found."
+
+"Still, there is nothing to disprove the theory that the revolver may
+have been placed--where it was found?" suggested Mr. Tertius.
+
+"Oh, certainly it may have been placed there!" said the doctor, with
+another shrug of the shoulders. "A cool and calculating murderer may
+have placed it there, of course."
+
+"Just so," agreed Mr. Tertius. He remained silently gazing at the
+hearthrug for a while; then he turned to the doctor again. "Now, how
+long do you think Mr. Herapath had been dead when you were called to the
+body?" he asked.
+
+"Quite eight hours," answered the doctor promptly.
+
+"Eight hours!" exclaimed Mr. Tertius. "And you first saw him at----"
+
+"A quarter past eight," said the doctor. "I should say he died just
+about midnight."
+
+"Midnight!" murmured Mr. Tertius. "Midnight? Then----"
+
+Before he could say more, a policeman, stationed in the corridor
+outside, opened the door of the room, and glancing at his inspector,
+announced the arrival of Mr. Barthorpe Herapath.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+BARTHORPE TAKES CHARGE
+
+
+The man who strode into the room as the policeman threw the door open for
+him immediately made two distinct impressions on the inspector and the
+doctor, neither of whom had ever seen him before. The first was that he
+instantly conveyed a sense of alert coolness and self-possession; the
+second that, allowing for differences of age, he was singularly like the
+dead man who lay in their midst. Both were tall, well-made men; both were
+clean-shaven; both were much alike as to feature and appearance. Apart
+from the fact that Jacob Herapath was a man of sixty and grey-haired, and
+his nephew one of thirty to thirty-five and dark-haired, they were very
+much alike--the same mould of nose, mouth, and chin, the same strength of
+form. The doctor noted this resemblance particularly, and he involuntarily
+glanced from the living to the dead.
+
+Barthorpe Herapath bent over his dead uncle for no more than a minute.
+His face was impassive, almost stern as he turned to the others. He
+nodded slightly to Mr. Tertius and to Selwood; then he gave his
+attention to the officials.
+
+"Yes?" he said inquiringly and yet with a certain tone of command. "Now
+tell me all you know of this."
+
+He stood listening silently, with concentrated attention, as the
+inspector put him in possession of the facts already known. He made no
+comment, asked no questions, until the inspector had finished; then he
+turned to Selwood, almost pointedly ignoring Mr. Tertius.
+
+"What is known of this in Portman Square, Mr. Selwood?" he inquired.
+"Tell me, briefly."
+
+Selwood, who had only met Barthorpe Herapath once or twice, and who had
+formed an instinctive and peculiar dislike to him, for which he could
+not account, accepted the invitation to be brief. In a few words he told
+exactly what had happened at Jacob Herapath's house.
+
+"My cousin is here, then?" exclaimed Barthorpe.
+
+"Miss Wynne is in the larger waiting-room down the corridor," replied
+Selwood.
+
+"I will go to her in a minute," said Barthorpe. "Now, inspector, there
+are certain things to be done at once. There will, of course, have to be
+an inquest--your people must give immediate notice to the coroner.
+Then--the body--that must be properly attended to--that, too, you will
+see about. Before you go away yourself, I want you to join me in
+collecting all the evidence we can get on the spot. You have one of your
+detective staff here?--good. Now, have you searched--him?"
+
+The inspector drew open a drawer in the front desk which occupied the
+centre of the room, and pointed to some articles which lay within.
+
+"Everything that we found upon him is in there," he answered. "You see
+there is not much--watch and chain, pocket articles, a purse, some loose
+money, a pocket-book, a cigar-case--that's all. One matter I should have
+expected to find, we didn't find."
+
+"What's that?" asked Barthorpe quickly.
+
+"Keys," answered the inspector. "We found no keys on him--not even a
+latch-key. Yet he must have let himself in here, and I understand from
+the caretaker that he must have unlocked this door after he'd entered by
+the outer one."
+
+Barthorpe made no immediate answer beyond a murmur of perplexity.
+
+"Strange," he said after a pause, during which he bent over the open
+drawer. "However, that's one of the things to be gone into. Close that
+drawer, lock it up, and for the present keep the key yourself--you and I
+will examine the contents later. Now for these immediate inquiries. Mr.
+Selwood, will you please telephone at once to Portman Square and tell
+Kitteridge to send Mountain, the coachman, here--instantly. Tell
+Kitteridge to come with him. Inspector, will you see to this arrangement
+we spoke of, and also tell the caretaker that we shall want him
+presently? Now I will go to my cousin."
+
+He strode off, still alert, composed, almost bustling in his demeanour,
+to the waiting-room in which they had left Peggie--a moment later,
+Selwood, following him down the corridor, saw him enter and close the
+door. And Selwood cursed himself for a fool for hating to think that
+these two should be closeted together, for disliking the notion that
+Barthorpe Herapath was Peggie Wynne's cousin--and now, probably, her
+guardian protector. For during those three weeks in which he had been
+Jacob Herapath's secretary, Selwood had seen a good deal of his
+employer's niece, and he was already well over the verge of falling in
+love with her, and was furious with himself for daring to think of a
+girl who was surely one of the richest heiresses in London. He was angry
+with himself, too, for disliking Barthorpe, for he was inclined to
+cultivate common-sense, and common-sense coldly reminded him that he did
+not know Barthorpe Herapath well enough to either like or dislike him.
+
+Half an hour passed--affairs suggestive of the tragedy of the night went
+on in the Herapath Estate Office. Two women in the garb of professional
+nurses came quietly, and passed into the room where Herapath lay dead. A
+man arrayed in dismal black came after them, summoned by the police who
+were busy at the telephone as soon as Selwood had finished with it.
+Selwood himself, having summoned Kitteridge and Mountain, hung about,
+waiting. He heard the police talking in undertones of clues and
+theories, and of a coroner's inquest, and the like; now and then he
+looked curiously at Mr. Tertius, who had taken a seat in the hall and
+was apparently wrapped in meditation. And still Barthorpe Herapath
+remained closeted with Peggie Wynne.
+
+A taxi drove up and deposited the butler and the coachman at the door.
+Selwood motioned them inside.
+
+"Mr. Barthorpe Herapath wants both of you," he said curtly. "I suppose
+he will ask for you presently."
+
+Kitteridge let out an anxious inquiry.
+
+"The master, sir?" he exclaimed. "Is----"
+
+"Good heavens!" muttered Selwood. "I--of course, you don't know. Mr.
+Herapath is dead."
+
+The two servants started and stared at each other. Before either could
+speak Barthorpe Herapath suddenly emerged from the waiting-room and
+looked round the hall. He beckoned to the inspector, who was talking in
+low tones with the detective, at a little distance.
+
+"Now, inspector," he said, "will you and your officer come in? And the
+caretaker--and you, Kitteridge, and you, Mountain. Mr. Selwood, will you
+come in, too?"
+
+He stood at the door while those he had invited inside passed into the
+room where Peggie still sat. And as he stood there, and Selwood wound up
+the little procession, Mr. Tertius rose and also made as if to join the
+others. Barthorpe stopped him by intruding himself between him and the
+door.
+
+"This is a private inquiry of my own, Mr. Tertius," he said, with a
+meaning look.
+
+Selwood, turning in sheer surprise at this announcement, so pointed and
+so unmistakable, saw a faint tinge of colour mount to the elder man's
+usually pale cheeks. Mr. Tertius stopped sharply and looked at Barthorpe
+in genuine surprise.
+
+"You do not wish me to enter--to be present?" he faltered.
+
+"Frankly, I don't," said Barthorpe, with aggressive plainness. "There
+will be a public inquiry--I can't stop you from attending that."
+
+Mr. Tertius drew back. He stood for a moment staring hard at Barthorpe;
+then, with a slight, scarcely perceivable bow, he turned away, crossed
+the hall, and went out of the front door. And Barthorpe Herapath
+laughed--a low, sneering laugh--and following the other men into the
+waiting-room, locked the door upon those assembled there. As if he and
+they were assembled on some cut-and-dried business matter, he waved them
+all to chairs, and himself dropped into one at the head of the table,
+close to that in which Peggie was sitting.
+
+"Now, inspector," he began, "you and I must get what we may as well call
+first information about this matter. There will be a vast amount of
+special and particular investigation later on, but I want us, at the
+very outset, while facts are fresh in the mind, to get certain
+happenings clearly before us. And for this reason--I understand that the
+police-surgeon is of opinion that my uncle committed suicide. With all
+respect to him--I'm sorry he's gone before I could talk to him--that
+theory cannot be held for an instant! My cousin, Miss Wynne, and I knew
+our uncle far too well to believe that theory for a single moment, and
+we shall combat it by every means in our power when the inquest is held.
+No--my uncle was murdered! Now I want to know all I can get to know of
+his movements last night. And first I think we'll hear what the
+caretaker can tell us. Hancock," he continued, turning to an elderly man
+who looked like an ex-soldier, "I understand you found my uncle's body?"
+
+The caretaker, obviously much upset by the affairs of the morning,
+pulled himself up to attention.
+
+"I did, sir," he replied.
+
+"What time was that?"
+
+"Just eight o'clock, sir--that's my usual time for opening the office."
+
+"Tell us exactly how you found him, Hancock."
+
+"I opened the door of Mr. Herapath's private room, sir, to pull up the
+blinds and open the window. When I walked in I saw him lying across the
+hearth-rug. Then I noticed the--the revolver."
+
+"And of course that gave you a turn. What did you do? Go into the room?"
+
+"No, sir! I shut the door again, went straight to the telephone and rang
+up the police-station. Then I waited at the front door till the
+inspector there came along."
+
+"Was the front door fastened as usual when you went to it at that time?"
+
+"It was fastened as it always is, sir, by the latch. It was Mr. Herapath's
+particular orders that it never should be fastened any other way at night,
+because he sometimes came in at night, with his latch-key."
+
+"Just so. Now these offices are quite apart and distinct from the rest
+of the building--mark that, inspector! There's no way out of them into
+the building, nor any way out of the building into them. In fact, the
+only entrance into these offices is by the front door. Isn't that so,
+Hancock?"
+
+"That's quite so, sir--only that one door."
+
+"No area entrance or side-door?"
+
+"None, sir--nothing but that."
+
+"And the only tenants in here--these offices--at night are you and your
+wife, Hancock?"
+
+"That's all, sir."
+
+"Now, where are your rooms?"
+
+"We've two rooms in the basement, sir--living-room and kitchen--and two
+rooms on the top floor--a bedroom and a bathroom."
+
+"On the top-floor. How many floors are there?"
+
+"Well, sir, there's the basement--then there's this--then there's two
+floors that's used by the clerks--then there's ours."
+
+"That's to say there are two floors between your bedroom and this ground
+floor?"
+
+"Yes, sir--two."
+
+"Very well. Now, about last night. What time did you and your wife go to
+bed?"
+
+"Eleven o'clock, sir--half an hour later than usual."
+
+"You'd previously looked round, I suppose?"
+
+"Been all round, sir--I always look into every room in the place last
+thing at night--thoroughly."
+
+"Are you and your wife sound sleepers?"
+
+"Yes, sir--both of us. Good sleepers."
+
+"You heard no sound after you got to bed?"
+
+"Nothing, sir--neither of us."
+
+"No recollection of hearing a revolver shot?--not even as if it were a
+long way off?"
+
+"No, sir--we never heard anything--nothing unusual, at any rate."
+
+"You heard no sound of doors opening or being shut, nor of any
+conveyance coming to the door?"
+
+"No, sir, nothing at all."
+
+"Well, one or two more questions, Hancock. You didn't go into the room
+after first catching sight of the body? Just so--but you'd notice
+things, even in a hurried glance. Did you notice any sign of a
+struggle--overturned chair or anything?"
+
+"No, sir. I did notice that Mr. Herapath's elbow chair, that he always
+sat in at his desk, was pushed back a bit, and was a bit on one side as
+it were. That was all."
+
+"And the light--the electric light? Was that on?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Then all you can tell us comes to this--that you never heard anything,
+and had no notion of what was happening, or had happened, until you came
+down in the morning?"
+
+"Just so, sir. If I'd known what was going on, or had gone on, I should
+have been down at once."
+
+Barthorpe nodded and turned to the coachman.
+
+"Now, Mountain," he said. "We want to hear your story. Be careful about
+your facts--what you can tell us is probably of the utmost importance."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE PRESSMAN
+
+
+The coachman, thus admonished, unconsciously edged his chair a little
+nearer to the table at which Barthorpe Herapath sat, and looked
+anxiously at his interrogator. He was a little, shrewd-eyed fellow, and
+it seemed to Selwood, who had watched him carefully during the informal
+examination to which Barthorpe had subjected the caretaker, that he had
+begun to think deeply over some new presentiment of this mystery which
+was slowly shaping itself in his mind.
+
+"I understand, Mountain, that you fetched Mr. Herapath from the House of
+Commons last night?" began Barthorpe. "You fetched him in the brougham,
+I believe?"
+
+"Yes, sir," answered the coachman. "Mr. Herapath always had the brougham
+at night--and most times, too, sir. Never took kindly to the motor,
+sir."
+
+"Where did you meet him, Mountain?"
+
+"Usual place, sir--in Palace Yard--just outside the Hall."
+
+"What time was that?"
+
+"Quarter past eleven, exactly, sir--the clock was just chiming the
+quarter as he came out."
+
+"Was Mr. Herapath alone when he came out?"
+
+"No sir. He came out with another gentleman--a stranger to me, sir. The
+two of 'em stood talking a bit a yard or two away from the brougham."
+
+"Did you hear anything they said?"
+
+"Just a word or two from Mr. Herapath, sir, as him and the other
+gentleman parted."
+
+"What were they?--tell us the words, as near as you can remember."
+
+"Mr. Herapath said, 'Have it ready for me tomorrow, and I'll look in at
+your place about noon.' That's all, sir."
+
+"What happened then?"
+
+"The other gentleman went off across the Yard, sir, and Mr. Herapath came
+to the brougham, and told me to drive him to the estate office--here,
+sir."
+
+"You drove him up to this door, I suppose?"
+
+"No, sir. Mr. Herapath never was driven up to the door--he always got
+out of the brougham in the road outside and walked up the archway. He
+did that last night."
+
+"From where you pulled up could you see if there was any light in these
+offices?"
+
+"No, sir--I pulled up just short of the entrance to the archway."
+
+"Did Mr. Herapath say anything to you when he got out?"
+
+"Yes, sir. He said he should most likely be three-quarters of an hour
+here, and that I'd better put a rug over the mare and walk her about."
+
+"Then I suppose he went up the archway. Now, did you see anybody about
+the entrance? Did you see any person waiting as if to meet him? Did he
+meet anybody?"
+
+"I saw no one, sir. As soon as he'd gone up the archway I threw a rug
+over the mare and walked her round and round the square across the
+road."
+
+"You heard and saw nothing of him until he came out again?"
+
+"Nothing, sir."
+
+"And how long was he away from you?"
+
+"Nearer an hour than three-quarters, sir."
+
+"Were you in full view of the entrance all that time?"
+
+"No, sir, I wasn't. Some of the time I was--some of it I'd my back to
+it."
+
+"You never saw any one enter the archway during the time Mr. Herapath
+was in the office?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"All the same, some one could have come here during that time without
+your seeing him?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir!"
+
+"Well, at last Mr. Herapath came out. Where did he rejoin you?"
+
+"In the middle of the road, sir--right opposite that statue in the
+Square gardens."
+
+"Did he say anything particular then?"
+
+"No, sir. He walked sharply across, opened the door, said 'Home' and
+jumped in."
+
+"You didn't notice anything unusual about him?"
+
+"Nothing, sir--unless it was that he hung his head down rather as he
+came across--same as if he was thinking hard, sir."
+
+"You drove straight home to Portman Square, then. What time did you get
+there?"
+
+"Exactly one o'clock, sir."
+
+"You're certain about that time?"
+
+"Certain, sir. It was just five minutes past one when I drove into our
+mews."
+
+"Now, then, be careful about this, Mountain. I want to know exactly what
+happened when you drove up to the house. Tell us in your own way."
+
+The coachman looked round amongst the listeners as if he were a little
+perplexed. "Why, sir," he answered, turning back to Barthorpe, "there
+was nothing happened! At least, I mean to say, there was nothing
+happened that didn't always happen on such occasions--Mr. Herapath got
+out of the brougham, shut the door, said 'Good night,' and went up the
+steps, taking his latch-key out of his pocket as he crossed the
+pavement, sir. That was all, sir."
+
+"Did you actually see him enter the house?"
+
+"No, sir," replied Mountain, with a decisive shake of the head. "I
+couldn't say that I did that. I saw him just putting the key in the
+latch as I drove off."
+
+"And that's all you know?"
+
+"That's all I know, sir--all."
+
+Barthorpe, after a moment's hesitation, turned to the police-inspector.
+
+"Is there anything that occurs to you?" he asked.
+
+"One or two things occur to me," answered the inspector. "But I'm not
+going to ask any questions now. I suppose all you want at present is to
+get a rough notion of how things were last night?"
+
+"Just so," assented Barthorpe. "A rough notion--that's it. Well,
+Kitteridge, it's your turn. Who found out that Mr. Herapath wasn't in
+the house this morning?"
+
+"Charlesworth, sir--Mr. Herapath's valet," replied the butler. "He
+always called Mr. Herapath at a quarter past seven every morning. When
+he went into the bedroom this morning Mr. Herapath wasn't there, and the
+bed hadn't been slept in. Then Charlesworth came and told me, sir, and
+of course I went to the study at once, and then I saw that, wherever Mr.
+Herapath might be then, he certainly had been home."
+
+"You judged that from--what?" asked Barthorpe.
+
+"Well, sir, it's been the rule to leave a supper-tray out for Mr.
+Herapath. Not much, sir--whisky and soda, a sandwich or two, a dry
+biscuit. I saw that he'd had something, sir."
+
+"Somebody else might have had it--eh?"
+
+"Yes, sir, but then you see, I'd had Mountain fetched by that time, and
+he told me that he'd seen Mr. Herapath letting himself in at one
+o'clock. So of course I knew the master had been in."
+
+Barthorpe hesitated, seemed to ponder matters for a moment, and then
+rose. "I don't think we need go into things any further just now," he
+said. "You, Kitteridge, and you, Mountain, can go home. Don't talk--that
+is, don't talk any more than is necessary. I suppose," he went on,
+turning to the inspector when the two servants and the caretaker had
+left the room. "I suppose you'll see to all the arrangements we spoke
+of?"
+
+"They're being carried out already," answered the inspector. "Of
+course," he added, drawing closer to Barthorpe and speaking in lower
+tones, "when the body's been removed, you'll join me in making a
+thorough inspection of the room? We haven't done that yet, you know, and
+it should be done. Wouldn't it be best," he continued with a glance at
+Peggie and a further lowering of his voice, "if the young lady went back
+to Portman Square?"
+
+"Just so, just so--I'll see to it," answered Barthorpe. "You go and keep
+people out of the way for a few minutes, and I'll get her off." He
+turned to his cousin when the two officers had left the room and
+motioned her to rise. "Now, Peggie," he said, "you must go home. I shall
+come along there myself in an hour or two--there are things to be done
+which you and I must do together. Mr. Selwood--will you take Miss Wynne
+out to the car? And then, please, come back to me--I want your
+assistance for a while."
+
+Peggie walked out of the room and to the car without demur or comment.
+But as she was about to take her seat she turned to Selwood.
+
+"Why didn't Mr. Tertius come into the room just now?" she demanded.
+
+Selwood hesitated. Until then he had thought that Peggie had heard the
+brief exchange of words between Barthorpe and Mr. Tertius at the door.
+
+"Didn't you hear what was said at the door when we were all coming in?"
+he asked suddenly, looking attentively at her.
+
+"I heard my cousin and Mr. Tertius talking, but I couldn't catch what
+was said," she replied. "If you did, tell me--I want to know."
+
+"Mr. Barthorpe Herapath refused to admit Mr. Tertius," said Selwood.
+
+"Refused?" she exclaimed. "Refused?"
+
+"Refused," repeated Selwood. "That's all I know."
+
+Peggie sat down and gave him an enigmatic look.
+
+"You, of course, will come back to the house when--when you've finished
+here?" she said.
+
+"I don't know--I suppose--really, I don't know," answered Selwood. "You
+see, I--I, of course, don't know exactly where I am, now. I suppose I
+must take my orders from--your cousin."
+
+Peggie gave him another look, more enigmatic than the other.
+
+"That's nonsense!" she said sharply. "Of course, you'll come. Do
+whatever it is that Barthorpe wants just now, but come on to Portman
+Square as soon as you've done it--I want you. Go straight home, Robson,"
+she went on, turning to the chauffeur.
+
+Selwood turned slowly and unwillingly back to the office door as the car
+moved off. And as he set his foot on the first step a young man came
+running up the entry--not hurrying but running--and caught him up and
+hailed him.
+
+"Mr. Selwood?" he said, pantingly. "You'll excuse me--you're Mr.
+Herapath's secretary, aren't you?--I've seen you with him. I'm Mr.
+Triffitt, of the _Argus_--I happened to call in at the police-station
+just now, and they told me of what had happened here, so I rushed along.
+Will you tell me all about it, Mr. Selwood?--it'll be a real scoop for
+me--I'll hustle down to the office with it at once, and we'll have a
+special out in no time. And whether you know it or not, that'll help the
+police. Give me the facts, Mr. Selwood!"
+
+Selwood stared at the ardent collector of news; then he motioned him to
+follow, and led him into the hall to where Barthorpe Herapath was
+standing with the police-inspector.
+
+"This is a newspaper man," he said laconically, looking at Barthorpe.
+"Mr. Triffitt, of the _Argus_. He wants the facts of this affair."
+
+Barthorpe turned and looked the new-comer up and down. Triffitt, who had
+almost recovered his breath, pulled out a card and presented it with a
+bow. And Barthorpe suddenly seemed to form a conclusion.
+
+"All right!" he said. "Mr. Selwood, you know all the facts. Take Mr.
+Triffitt into that room we've just left, and give him a résumé of them.
+And--listen! we can make use of the press. Mention two matters, which
+seem to me to be of importance. Tell of the man who came out of the
+House of Commons with my uncle last night--ask him if he'll come
+forward. And, as my uncle must have returned to this office after he'd
+been home, and as he certainly wouldn't walk here, ask for information
+as to who drove him down to Kensington from Portman Square. Don't tell
+this man too much--give him the bare outlines on how matters stand."
+
+The reporter wrote at lightning speed while Selwood, who had some
+experience of condensation, gave him the news he wanted. Finding that he
+was getting a first-class story, Triffitt asked no questions and made no
+interruptions. But when Selwood was through with the account, he looked
+across the table with a queer glance of the eye.
+
+"I say!" he said. "This is a strange case!"
+
+"Why so strange?" asked Selwood.
+
+"Why? Great Scott!--I reckon it's an uncommonly strange case," exclaimed
+Triffitt. "It's about a dead certainty that Herapath was in his own
+house at Portman Square at one o'clock, isn't it?"
+
+"Well?" said Selwood.
+
+"And yet according to the doctor who examined him at eight o'clock he'd
+been dead quite eight hours!" said Triffitt. "That means he died at
+twelve o'clock--an hour before he's supposed to have been at his house!
+Queer! But all the queerer, all the better--for me! Now I'm off--for the
+present. This'll be on the streets in an hour, Mr. Selwood. Nothing like
+the press, sir!"
+
+Therewith he fled, and the secretary suddenly found himself confronting
+a new idea. If the doctor was right and Jacob Herapath had been shot
+dead at midnight, how on earth could he possibly have been in Portman
+Square at one o'clock, an hour later?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE GLASS AND THE SANDWICH
+
+
+Mr. Tertius, dismissed in such cavalier fashion by Barthorpe Herapath,
+walked out of the estate office with downcast head--a superficial
+observer might have said that he was thoroughly crestfallen and
+brow-beaten. But by the time he had reached the road outside, the two
+faint spots of colour which had flushed his cheeks when Barthorpe turned
+him away had vanished, and he was calm and collected enough when, seeing
+a disengaged taxi-cab passing by, he put up his hand and hailed it. The
+voice which bade the driver go to Portman Square was calm enough,
+too--Mr. Tertius had too much serious work immediately in prospect to
+allow himself to be disturbed by a rudeness.
+
+He thought deeply about that work as the taxi-cab whirled him along; he
+was still thinking about it when he walked into the big house in Portman
+Square. In there everything was very quiet. The butler was away at
+Kensington; the other servants were busily discussing the mystery of
+their master in their own regions. No one was aware that Mr. Tertius had
+returned, for he let himself into the house with his own latch-key, and
+went straight into Herapath's study. There, if possible, everything was
+still quieter--the gloom of the dull November morning seemed to be
+doubly accentuated in the nooks and corners; there was a sense of
+solitude which was well in keeping with Mr. Tertius's knowledge of what
+had happened. He looked at the vacant chair in which he had so often
+seen Jacob Herapath sitting, hard at work, active, bustling, intent on
+getting all he could out of every minute of his working day, and he
+sighed deeply.
+
+But in the moment of sighing Mr. Tertius reflected that there was no
+time for regret. It was a time--his time--for action; there was a thing
+to do which he wanted to do while he had the room to himself. Therefore
+he went to work, carefully and methodically. For a second or two he
+stood reflectively looking at the supper tray which still stood on the
+little table near the desk. With a light, delicate touch he picked up
+the glass which had been used and held it up to the light. He put it
+down again presently, went quietly out of the study to the dining-room
+across the hall, and returned at once with another glass precisely
+similar in make and pattern to the one which he had placed aside. Into
+that clear glass he poured some whisky, afterwards mixing with it some
+soda-water from the syphon--this mixture he poured away into the soil of
+a flower-pot which stood in the window. And that done he placed the
+second glass on the tray in the place where the first had stood, and
+picking up the first, in the same light, gingerly fashion, he went
+upstairs to his own rooms at the top of the house.
+
+Five minutes later Mr. Tertius emerged from his rooms. He then carried
+in his hand a small, square bag, and he took great care to handle it
+very carefully as he went downstairs and into the square. At the corner
+of Orchard Street he got another taxi-cab and bade the driver go to
+Endsleigh Gardens. And during the drive he took the greatest pains to
+nurse the little bag on his knee, thereby preserving the equilibrium of
+the glass inside it.
+
+Ringing the bell of one of the houses in Endsleigh Gardens, Mr. Tertius
+was presently confronted by a trim parlourmaid, whose smile was ample
+proof that the caller was well-known to her.
+
+"Is the Professor in, Mary?" asked Mr. Tertius. "And if he is, is he
+engaged?"
+
+The trim parlourmaid replied that the Professor was in, and that she
+hadn't heard that he was particularly engaged, and she immediately
+preceded the visitor up a flight or two of stairs to a door, which in
+addition to being thickly covered with green felt, was set in flanges of
+rubber--these precautions being taken, of course, to ensure silence in
+the apartment within. An electric bell was set in the door; a moment or
+two elapsed before any response was made to the parlourmaid's ring. Then
+the door automatically opened, the parlourmaid smiled at Mr. Tertius and
+retired; Mr. Tertius walked in; the door closed softly behind him.
+
+The room in which the visitor found himself was a large and lofty one,
+lighted from the roof, from which it was also ventilated by a patent
+arrangement of electric fans. Everything that met the view betokened
+science, order, and method. The walls, destitute of picture or ornament,
+were of a smooth neutral tinted plaster; where they met the floor the
+corners were all carefully rounded off so that no dust could gather in
+cracks and crevices; the floor, too, was of smooth cement; there was no
+spot in which a speck of dust could settle in improper peace. A series
+of benches ran round the room, and gave harbourings to a collection of
+scientific instruments of strange appearance and shape; two large
+tables, one at either end of the room, were similarly equipped. And at a
+desk placed between them, and just then occupied in writing in a
+note-book, sat a large man, whose big muscular body was enveloped in a
+brown holland blouse or overall, fashioned something like a smock-frock
+of the old-fashioned rural labourer. He lifted a colossal, mop-like head
+and a huge hand as Mr. Tertius stepped across the threshold, and his
+spectacled eyes twinkled as their glance fell on the bag which the
+visitor carried so gingerly.
+
+"Hullo, Tertius!" exclaimed the big man, in a deep, rich voice. "What
+have you got there? Specimens?"
+
+Mr. Tertius looked round for a quite empty space on the adjacent bench,
+and at last seeing one, set his bag down upon it, and sighed with
+relief.
+
+"My dear Cox-Raythwaite!" he said, mopping his forehead with a bandanna
+handkerchief which he drew from the tail of his coat. "I am thankful to
+have got these things here in--I devoutly trust!--safety. Specimens?
+Well, not exactly; though, to be sure, they may be specimens of--I don't
+quite know what villainy yet. Objects?--certainly! Perhaps, my dear
+Professor, you will come and look at them."
+
+The Professor slowly lifted his six feet of muscle and sinew out of his
+chair, picked up a briar pipe which lay on his desk, puffed a great
+cloud of smoke out of it, and lounged weightily across the room to his
+visitor.
+
+"Something alive?" he asked laconically. "Likely to bite?"
+
+"Er--no!" replied Mr. Tertius. "No--they won't bite. The fact is," he
+went on, gingerly opening the bag, "this--er--this, or these are they."
+
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite bent his massive head and shoulders over the
+little bag and peered narrowly into its obscurity. Then he started.
+
+"Good Lord!" he exclaimed. "A glass tumbler! And--is it a sandwich? Why,
+what on earth----"
+
+He made as if to pull the glass out of the bag, and Mr. Tertius hastily
+seized the great hand in an agony of apprehension.
+
+"My dear Cox-Raythwaite!" he said. "Pray don't! Allow me--presently.
+When either of these objects is touched it must be in the most, quite
+the most, delicate fashion. Of course, I know you have a fairy-like
+gentleness of touch--but don't touch these things yet. Let me explain.
+Shall we--suppose we sit down. Give me--yes--give me one of your
+cigars."
+
+The Professor, plainly mystified, silently pointed to a cigar box which
+stood on a corner of his desk, and took another look into the bag.
+
+"A sandwich--and a glass!" he murmured reflectively. "Um! Well?" he
+continued, going back to his chair and dropping heavily into it. "And
+what's it all about, Tertius? Some mystery, eh?"
+
+Mr. Tertius drew a whiff or two of fragrant Havana before he replied.
+Then he too dropped into a chair and pulled it close to his friend's
+desk.
+
+"My dear Professor!" he said, in a low, thrilling voice, suggestive of
+vast importance, "I don't know whether the secret of one of the most
+astounding crimes of our day may not lie in that innocent-looking
+bag--or, rather, in its present contents. Fact! But I'll tell you--you
+must listen with your usual meticulous care for small details. The truth
+is--Jacob Herapath has, I am sure, been murdered!"
+
+"Murdered!" exclaimed the Professor. "Herapath? Murder--eh? Now then,
+slow and steady, Tertius--leave out nothing!"
+
+"Nothing!" repeated Mr. Tertius solemnly. "Nothing! You shall hear
+all. And this it is--point by point, from last night until--until
+the present moment. That is--so far as I know. There may have been
+developments--somewhere else. But this is what I know."
+
+When Mr. Tertius had finished a detailed and thorough-going account of
+the recent startling discovery and subsequent proceedings, to all of
+which Professor Cox-Raythwaite listened in profound silence, he rose,
+and tip-toeing towards the bag, motioned his friend to follow him.
+
+"Now, my dear sir," he said, whispering in his excitement as if he
+feared lest the very retorts and crucibles and pneumatic troughs should
+hear him, "Now, my dear sir, I wish you to see for yourself. First of
+all, the glass. I will take it out myself--I know exactly how I put it
+in. I take it out--thus! I place it on this vacant space--thus. Look for
+yourself, my dear fellow. What do you see?"
+
+The Professor, watching Mr. Tertius's movements with undisguised
+interest, took off his spectacles, picked up a reading-glass, bent down
+and carefully examined the tumbler.
+
+"Yes," he said, after a while, "yes, Tertius, I certainly see distinct
+thumb and finger-marks round the upper part of this glass. Oh, yes--no
+doubt of that!"
+
+"Allow me to take one of your clean specimen slides," observed Mr.
+Tertius, picking up a square of highly polished glass. "There! I place
+this slide here and upon it I deposit this sandwich. Now, my dear
+Cox-Raythwaite, favour me by examining the sandwich even more closely
+than you did the glass--if necessary."
+
+But the Professor shook his head. He clapped Mr. Tertius on the
+shoulder.
+
+"Excellent!" he exclaimed. "Good! Pooh!--no need for care there. The
+thing's as plain as--as I am. Good, Tertius, good!"
+
+"You see it?" said Mr. Tertius, delightedly.
+
+"See it! Good Lord, why, who could help see it?" answered the Professor.
+"Needs no great amount of care or perception to see that, as I said. Of
+course, I see it. Glad you did, too!"
+
+"But we must take the greatest care of it," urged Mr. Tertius. "The most
+particular care. That's why I came to you. Now, what can we do? How
+preserve this sandwich--just as it is?"
+
+"Nothing easier," replied the Professor. "We'll soon fix that. We'll put
+it in such safety that it will still be a fresh thing if it remains
+untouched until London Bridge falls down from sheer decay."
+
+He moved off to another part of the laboratory, and presently returned
+with two objects, one oblong and shallow, the other deep and square,
+which on being set down before Mr. Tertius proved to be glass boxes,
+wonderfully and delicately made, with removable lids that fitted into
+perfectly adjusted grooves.
+
+"There, my dear fellow," he said. "Presently I will deposit the glass in
+that, and the sandwich in this. Then I shall adjust and seal the lids in
+such a fashion that no air can enter these little chambers. Then through
+those tiny orifices I shall extract whatever air is in them--to the most
+infinitesimal remnant of it. Then I shall seal those orifices--and there
+you are. Whoever wants to see that sandwich or that glass will find both
+a year hence--ten years hence--a century hence!--in precisely the same
+condition in which we now see them. And that reminds me," he continued,
+as he turned away to his desk and picked up his pipe, "that reminds me,
+Tertius--what are you going to do about these things being seen?
+They'll have to be seen, you know. Have you thought of the police--the
+detectives?"
+
+"I have certainly thought of both," replied Mr. Tertius. "But--I think
+not yet, in either case. I think one had better await the result of the
+inquest. Something may come out, you know."
+
+"Coroners and juries," observed the Professor oracularly, "are good at
+finding the obvious. Whether they get at the mysteries and the
+secrets----"
+
+"Just so--just so!" said Mr. Tertius. "I quite apprehend you. All the
+same, I think we will see what is put before the coroner. Now, what
+point suggests itself to you, Cox-Raythwaite?"
+
+"One in particular," answered the Professor. "Whatever medical evidence
+is called ought to show without reasonable doubt what time Herapath
+actually met his death."
+
+"Quite so," said Mr. Tertius gravely. "If that's once established----"
+
+"Then, of course, your own investigation, or suggestion, or theory about
+that sandwich will be vastly simplified," replied the Professor.
+"Meanwhile, you will no doubt take some means of observing--eh?"
+
+"I shall use every means to observe," said Mr. Tertius with a significant
+smile, which was almost a wink. "Of that you may be--dead certain!"
+
+Then he left Professor Cox-Raythwaite to hermetically seal up the glass
+and the sandwich, and quitting the house, walked slowly back to Portman
+Square. As he turned out of Oxford Street into Orchard Street the
+newsboys suddenly came rushing along with the _Argus_ special.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE TAXI-CAB DRIVER
+
+
+Mr. Tertius bought a copy of the newspaper, and standing aside on the
+pavement, read with much interest and surprise the story which
+Triffitt's keen appetite for news and ready craftsmanship in writing had
+so quickly put together. Happening to glance up from the paper in the
+course of his reading, he observed that several other people were
+similarly employed. The truth was that Triffitt had headed his column:
+"MYSTERIOUS DEATH OF MR. HERAPATH, M.P. IS IT SUICIDE OR MURDER?"--and
+as this also appeared in great staring letters on the contents bills
+which the newsboys were carrying about with them, and as Herapath had
+been well known in that district, there was a vast amount of interest
+aroused thereabouts by the news. Indeed, people were beginning to
+chatter on the sidewalks, and at the doors of the shops. And as Mr.
+Tertius turned away in the direction of Portman Square, he heard one
+excited bystander express a candid opinion.
+
+"Suicide?" exclaimed this man, thrusting his paper into the hands of a
+companion. "Not much! Catch old Jacob Herapath at that game--he was a
+deuced deal too fond of life and money! Murder, sir--murder!--that's the
+ticket--murder!"
+
+Mr. Tertius went slowly homeward, head bent and eyes moody. He let
+himself into the house; at the sound of his step in the hall Peggie
+Wynne looked out of the study. She retreated into it at sight of Mr.
+Tertius, and he followed her and closed the door. Looking narrowly at
+her, he saw that the girl had been shedding tears, and he laid his hand
+shyly yet sympathetically on her arm. "Yes," he said quietly, "I've been
+feeling like that ever since--since I heard about things. But I don't
+know--I suppose we shall feel it more when--when we realize it more, eh?
+Just now there's the other thing to think about, isn't there?"
+
+Peggie mopped her eyes and looked at him. He was such a quiet,
+unobtrusive, inoffensive old gentleman that she wondered more than ever
+why Barthorpe had refused to admit him to the informal conference.
+
+"What other thing?" she asked.
+
+Mr. Tertius looked round the room--strangely empty now that Jacob
+Herapath's bustling and strenuous presence was no longer in it--and
+shook his head.
+
+"There's one thought you mustn't permit yourself to harbour for a moment,
+my dear," he answered. "Don't even for a fraction of time allow yourself
+to think that my old friend took his own life! That's--impossible."
+
+"I don't," said Peggie. "I never did think so. It is, as you say,
+impossible. I knew him too well to believe that. So, of course,
+it's----"
+
+"Murder," assented Mr. Tertius. "Murder! I heard a man in the street
+voice the same opinion just now. Of course! It's the only opinion. Yet
+in the newspaper they're asking which it was. But I suppose the
+newspapers must be--sensational."
+
+"You don't mean to say it's in the newspapers already?" exclaimed
+Peggie.
+
+Mr. Tertius handed to her the _Argus_ special, which he had carried
+crumpled up in his hand.
+
+"Everybody's reading it out there in the streets," he said. "It's
+extraordinary, now, how these affairs seem to fascinate people.
+Yes--it's all there. That is, of course, as far as it's gone."
+
+"How did the paper people come to know all this?" asked Peggie, glancing
+rapidly over Triffitt's leaded lines.
+
+"I suppose they got it from the police," replied Mr. Tertius. "I don't
+know much about such matters, but I believe the police and the Press are
+in constant touch. Of course, it's well they should be--it attracts
+public notice. And in cases like this, public notice is an excellent
+thing. We shall have to hear--and find out--a good deal before we get at
+the truth in this case, my dear."
+
+Peggie suddenly flung down the newspaper and looked inquiringly at the
+old man.
+
+"Mr. Tertius," she said abruptly, "why wouldn't Barthorpe let you come
+into that room down there at the office this morning?"
+
+Mr. Tertius did not answer this direct question at once. He walked away
+to the window and stood looking out into the square for a while. When
+at last he spoke his voice was singularly even and colourless. He might
+have been discussing a question on which it was impossible to feel any
+emotion.
+
+"I really cannot positively say, my dear," he replied. "I have known, of
+course, for some time that Mr. Barthorpe Herapath is not well disposed
+towards me. I have observed a certain coldness, a contempt, on his part.
+I have been aware that he has resented my presence in this house. And I
+suppose he felt that as I am not a member of the family, I had no right
+to sit in council with him and with you."
+
+"Not a member of the family!" exclaimed Peggie. "Why, you came here soon
+after I came--all those years ago!"
+
+"I have dwelt under Jacob Herapath's roof, in this house, fifteen
+years," said Mr. Tertius, reflectively. "Fifteen years!--yes. Yes--Jacob
+and I were--good friends."
+
+As he spoke the last word a tear trickled from beneath Mr. Tertius's
+spectacles and ran down into his beard, and Peggie, catching sight of
+it, impulsively jumped from her seat and kissed him affectionately.
+
+"Never mind, Mr. Tertius!" she said, patting his shoulders. "You and I
+are friends, too, anyway. I don't like Barthorpe when he's like that--I
+hate that side of him. And anyhow, Barthorpe doesn't matter--to me. I
+don't suppose he matters to anything--except himself."
+
+Mr. Tertius gravely shook his head.
+
+"Mr. Barthorpe Herapath may matter a great deal, my dear," he remarked.
+"He is a very forceful person. I do not know what provision my poor
+friend may have made, but Barthorpe, you will remember, is his nephew,
+and, I believe, his only male relative. And in that case----"
+
+Mr. Tertius was just then interrupted by the entrance of a footman who
+came in and looked inquiringly at Peggie.
+
+"There's a taxi-cab driver at the door, miss," he announced. "He says he
+would like to speak to some one about the news in the paper about--about
+the master, miss."
+
+Peggie looked at Mr. Tertius. And Mr. Tertius quickly made a sign to the
+footman.
+
+"Bring the man in at once," he commanded. And, as if to lose no time, he
+followed the footman into the hall, and at once returned, conducting a
+young man who carried a copy of the _Argus_ in his hand. "Yes?" he said,
+closing the door behind them and motioning the man to a seat. "You wish
+to tell us something! This lady is Miss Wynne--Mr. Herapath's niece. You
+can tell us anything you think of importance. Do you know anything,
+then?"
+
+The taxi-cab driver lifted the _Argus_.
+
+"This here newspaper, sir," he answered. "I've just been reading of
+it--about Mr. Herapath, sir."
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Tertius gently. "Yes?"
+
+"Well, sir--strikes me as how I drove him, sir, this morning," answered
+the driver. "Gentleman of his appearance, anyway, sir--that's a fact!"
+
+Mr. Tertius glanced at Peggie, who was intently watching the caller.
+
+"Ah!" he said, turning again to the driver, "you think you drove either
+Mr. Herapath or a gentleman of his appearance this morning. You did not
+know Mr. Herapath by sight, then?"
+
+"No, sir. I've only just come into this part--came for the first time
+yesterday. But I'm as certain----"
+
+"Just tell us all about it," said Mr. Tertius, interrupting him. "Tell
+us in your own way. Everything, you know."
+
+"Ain't so much to tell, sir," responded the driver. "All the same,
+soon's I'd seen this piece in the paper just now I said to myself, 'I'd
+best go round to Portman Square and tell what I do know,' I says. And
+it's like this, sir--I come on this part yesterday--last night it was.
+My taxi belongs to a man as keeps half a dozen, and he put me on to
+night work, this end of Oxford Street. Well, it 'ud be just about a
+quarter to two this morning when a tall, well-built gentleman comes out
+of Orchard Street and made for my cab. I jumps down and opens the door
+for him. 'You know St. Mary Abbot's Church, Kensington?' he says as he
+got in. 'Drive me down there and pull up at the gate.' So, of course, I
+ran him down, and there he got out, give me five bob, and off he went.
+That's it, sir."
+
+"And when he got out, which way did he go?" asked Mr. Tertius.
+
+"West, sir--along the High Street, past the Town Hall," promptly
+answered the driver. "And there he crossed the road. I see him cross,
+because I stopped there a minute or two after he'd got out, tinkering at
+my engine."
+
+"Can you tell us what this gentleman was like in appearance?" asked Mr.
+Tertius.
+
+"Well, sir, not so much as regards his face," answered the driver. "I
+didn't look at him, not particular, in that way--besides, he was wearing
+one of them overcoats with a big fur collar to it, and he'd the collar
+turned high up about his neck and cheeks, and his hat--one of them
+slouched, soft hats, like so many gentlemen wears nowadays sir--was well
+pulled down. But from what bit I see of him, sir, I should say he was a
+fresh-coloured gentleman."
+
+"Tall and well built, you say?" observed Mr. Tertius.
+
+"Yes, sir--fine-made gentleman--pretty near six feet, I should have
+called him," replied the driver. "Little bit inclined to stoutness,
+like."
+
+Mr. Tertius turned to Peggie.
+
+"I believe you have some recent photographs of Mr. Herapath," he said.
+"You might fetch them and let me see if our friend here can recognize
+them. You didn't notice anything else about your fare?" he went on,
+after Peggie had left the room. "Anything that excited your attention,
+eh?"
+
+The driver, after examining the pattern of the carpet for one minute and
+studying the ceiling for another, slowly shook his head. But he then
+suddenly started into something like activity.
+
+"Yes, there was, sir, now I come to think of it!" he exclaimed. "I
+hadn't thought of it until now, but now you mention it, there was. I
+noticed he'd a particularly handsome diamond ring on his left hand--an
+extra fine one, too, it was."
+
+"Ah!" said Mr. Tertius. "A very fine diamond ring on his left hand? Now,
+how did you come to see that?"
+
+"He rested that hand on the side of the door as he was getting in, sir,
+and I noticed how it flashed," answered the driver. "There was a lamp
+right against us, you see, sir."
+
+"I see," said Mr. Tertius. "He wasn't wearing gloves, then?"
+
+"He hadn't a glove on that hand, sir. He was carrying some papers in
+it--a sort of little roll of papers."
+
+"Ah!" murmured Mr. Tertius. "A diamond ring--and a little roll of
+papers." He got up from his chair and put a hand in his pocket. "Now, my
+friend," he went on, chinking some coins as he withdrew it, "you haven't
+told this to any one else, I suppose?"
+
+"No, sir," answered the driver. "Came straight here, sir."
+
+"There's a couple of sovereigns for your trouble," said Mr. Tertius,
+"and there'll be more for you if you do what I tell you to do. At
+present--that is, until I give you leave--don't say a word of this to a
+soul. Not even to the police--yet. In fact, not a word to them until I
+say you may. Keep your mouth shut until I tell you to open it--I shall
+know where to find you. If you want me, keep an eye open for me in the
+square outside, or in the street. When the young lady comes back with
+the photographs, don't mention the ring to her. This is a very queer
+business, and I don't want too much said just yet. Do as I tell you, and
+I'll see you're all right. Understand?"
+
+The driver pocketed his sovereigns, and touched his forehead with a
+knowing look.
+
+"All right, sir," he said. "I understand. Depend on me, sir--I shan't
+say a word without your leave."
+
+Peggie came in just then with a half a dozen cabinet photographs in her
+hand. One by one she exhibited them to the driver.
+
+"Do you recognize any of these?" she asked.
+
+The driver shook his head doubtingly until Peggie showed him a
+half-length of her uncle in outdoor costume. Then his eyes lighted up.
+
+"Couldn't swear as to the features, miss," he exclaimed. "But I'd take
+my 'davy about the coat and the hat! That's what the gentleman was
+wearing as I drove this morning--take my Gospel oath on it."
+
+"He recognizes the furred overcoat and the soft hat," murmured Mr.
+Tertius. "Very good--very good! All right, my man--we are much obliged
+to you."
+
+He went out into the hall with the driver, and had another word in
+secret with him before the footman opened the door. As the door closed
+Mr. Tertius turned slowly back to the study. And as he turned he
+muttered a word or two and smiled cynically.
+
+"A diamond ring!" he said. "Jacob Herapath never wore a diamond ring in
+his life!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+IS THERE A WILL?
+
+
+When Triffitt hurried off with his precious budget of news Selwood
+lingered on the step of the office watching his retreating figure, and
+wondering about the new idea which the reporter had put into his mind.
+It was one of those ideas which instantly arouse all sorts of vague,
+sinister possibilities, but Selwood found himself unable to formulate
+anything definite out of any of them. Certainly, if Mr. Herapath died
+at, or before, twelve o'clock midnight, he could not have been in
+Portman Square at one o'clock in the morning! Yet, according to all the
+evidence, he had been there, in his own house, in his own study. His
+coachman had seen him in the act of entering the house; there was proof
+that he had eaten food and drunk liquor in the house. The doctor must
+have made a mistake--and yet, Selwood remembered, he had spoken very
+positively. But if he had not made a mistake?--what then? How could
+Jacob Herapath be lying dead in his office at Kensington and nibbling at
+a sandwich in Portman Square at one and the same hour? Clearly there was
+something wrong, something deeply mysterious, something----
+
+At that point of his surmisings and questionings Selwood heard himself
+called by Barthorpe Herapath, and he turned to see that gentleman
+standing in the hall dangling a bunch of keys, which Selwood instantly
+recognized.
+
+"We have just found these keys," said Barthorpe. "You remember the
+inspector said he found no keys in my uncle's pockets? We found these
+pushed away under some loose papers on the desk. It looks as if he'd put
+them on the desk when he sat down, and had displaced them when he fell
+out of his chair. Of course, they're his--perhaps you recognize them?"
+
+"Yes," answered Selwood, abruptly. "They're his."
+
+"I want you to come with me while I open his private safe," continued
+Barthorpe. "At junctures like these there are always things that have got
+to be done. Now, did you ever hear my uncle speak of his will--whether
+he'd made one, and, if so, where he'd put it? Hear anything?"
+
+"Nothing," replied Selwood. "I never heard him mention such a thing."
+
+"Well, between ourselves," said Barthorpe, "neither did I. I've done all
+his legal work for him for a great many years--ever since I began to
+practice, in fact--and so far as I know, he never made a will. More than
+once I've suggested that he should make one, but like most men who are
+in good health and spirits, he always put it off. However, we must look
+over his papers both here and at Portman Square."
+
+Selwood made no comment. He silently followed Barthorpe into the
+private room in which his late employer had so strangely met his death.
+The body had been removed by that time, and everything bore its usual
+aspect, save for the presence of the police inspector and the detective,
+who were peering about them in the mysterious fashion associated with
+their calling. The inspector was looking narrowly at the fastenings of
+the two windows and apparently debating the chances of entrance and exit
+from them; the detective, armed with a magnifying glass, was examining
+the edges of the door, the smooth backs of chairs, even the surface of
+the desk, presumably for finger-marks.
+
+"I shan't disturb you," said Barthorpe, genially. "Mr. Selwood and I
+merely wish to investigate the contents of this safe. There's no
+likelihood of finding what I'm particularly looking for in any of his
+drawers in that desk," he continued, turning to Selwood. "I knew enough
+of his habits to know that anything that's in there will be of a purely
+business nature--referring to the estate. If he did keep anything that's
+personal here, it'll be in that safe. Now, which is the key? Do you
+know?"
+
+He handed the bunch of keys to Selwood. And Selwood, who was feeling
+strangely apathetic about the present proceedings, took them mechanically
+and glanced carelessly at them. Then he started.
+
+"There's a key missing!" he exclaimed, suddenly waking into interest. "I
+know these keys well enough--Mr. Herapath was constantly handing them to
+me. There ought to be six keys here--the key of this safe, the key of
+the safe at Portman Square, the latch-key for this office, the key of
+this room, the latch-key of the house, and a key of a safe at the Alpha
+Safe Deposit place. That one--the Safe Deposit key--is missing."
+
+Barthorpe knitted his forehead, and the two police officials paused in
+their tasks and drew near the desk at which Selwood was standing.
+
+"Are you certain of that?" asked Barthorpe.
+
+"Sure!" answered Selwood. "As I say, I've been handling these keys every
+day since I came to Mr. Herapath."
+
+"When did you handle them last?"
+
+"Yesterday afternoon: not so very long before Mr. Herapath went down to
+the House. That was in Portman Square. He gave them to me to get some
+papers out of the safe there."
+
+"Was that Safe Deposit key there at that time?"
+
+"They were all there--all six. I'm certain of it," asserted Selwood.
+"This is the key of this safe," he went on, selecting one.
+
+"Open the safe, then," said Barthorpe. "Another safe at the Alpha, eh?"
+he continued, musingly. "I never knew he had a safe there. Did you ever
+know him to use it?"
+
+"I've been to it myself," answered Selwood. "I took some documents there
+and deposited them, two days ago. There's not very much in this safe,"
+he went on, throwing open the door. "It's not long since I tidied it
+out--at his request. So far as I know, there are no private papers of
+any note there. He never made much use of this safe--in my presence, at
+any rate."
+
+"Well, we'll see what there is, anyhow," remarked Barthorpe. He began to
+examine the contents of the safe methodically, taking the various papers
+and documents out one by one and laying them in order on a small table
+which Selwood wheeled up to his side. Within twenty minutes he had gone
+through everything, and he began to put the papers back.
+
+"No will there," he murmured. "We'll go on to Portman Square now, Mr.
+Selwood. After all, it's much more likely that he'd keep his will in the
+safe at his own house--if he made one. But I don't believe he ever made
+a will."
+
+Mr. Tertius and Peggie Wynne were still in the study when Barthorpe and
+Selwood drove up to the house. The driver of the taxi-cab had just gone
+away, and Mr. Tertius was discussing his information with Peggie.
+Hearing Barthorpe's voice in the hall he gave her a warning glance.
+
+"Quick!" he said hurriedly. "Attend to what I say! Not a word to your
+cousin about the man who has just left us. At present I don't want Mr.
+Barthorpe Herapath to know what he told us. Be careful, my dear--not a
+word! I'll tell you why later on--but at present, silence--strict
+silence!"
+
+Barthorpe Herapath came bustling into the room, followed by Selwood,
+who, as it seemed to Peggie, looked utterly unwilling for whatever task
+might lay before him. At sight of Mr. Tertius, Barthorpe came to a
+sudden halt and frowned.
+
+"I don't want to discuss matters further, Mr. Tertius," he said coldly.
+"I thought I had given you a hint already. My cousin and I have private
+matters to attend to, and I shall be obliged if you'll withdraw. You've
+got private rooms of your own in this house, I believe--at any rate,
+until things are settled--and it will be best if you keep to them."
+
+Mr. Tertius, who had listened to this unmoved, turned to Peggie.
+
+"Do you wish me to go away?" he asked quietly.
+
+Barthorpe turned on him with an angry scowl.
+
+"It's not a question of what Miss Wynne wishes, but of what I order," he
+burst out. "If you've any sense of fitness, you'll know that until my
+uncle's will is found and his wishes ascertained I'm master here, Mr.
+Tertius, and----"
+
+"You're not my master, Barthorpe," exclaimed Peggie, with a sudden flash
+of spirit. "I know what my uncle's wishes were as regards Mr. Tertius,
+and I intend to respect them. I've always been mistress of this house
+since my uncle brought me to it, and I intend to be until I find I've no
+right to be. Mr. Tertius, you'll please to stop where you are!"
+
+"I intend to," said Mr. Tertius, calmly. "I never had any other
+intention. Mr. Barthorpe Herapath, I believe, will hardly use force to
+compel me to leave the room."
+
+Barthorpe bit his lips as he glanced from one to the other.
+
+"Oh!" he said. "So that's how things are? Very good, Mr. Tertius. No, I
+shan't use physical force. But mind I don't use a little moral force--a
+slight modicum of that would be enough for you, I'm thinking!"
+
+"Do I understand that you are using threatening language to me?" asked
+Mr. Tertius, mildly.
+
+Barthorpe sneered, and turned to Selwood.
+
+"We'll open this safe now," he said. "You know which is the key, I
+suppose," he went on, glaring at Peggie, who had retreated to the
+hearthrug and was evidently considerably put out by her cousin's
+behaviour. "I suppose you never heard my uncle mention a will? We've
+searched his private safe at the office and there's nothing there.
+Personally, I don't believe he ever made a will--I never heard of it.
+And I think he'd have told me if--"
+
+Mr. Tertius broke in upon Barthorpe's opinions with a dry cough.
+
+"It may save some unnecessary trouble if I speak at this juncture," he
+said. "There is a will."
+
+Barthorpe's ruddy cheeks paled in spite of his determined effort to
+appear unconcerned. He twisted round on Mr. Tertius with a startled eye
+and twitching lips.
+
+"You--you say there is a will!" he exclaimed. "You say--what do you know
+about it?"
+
+"When it was made, where it was made, where it now is," answered Mr.
+Tertius.
+
+"Where it now is!" repeated Barthorpe. "Where it now--is! And where is
+it, I should like to know?"
+
+Mr. Tertius, who had gone up to Peggie, laid his hand reassuringly on
+her arm.
+
+"Don't be afraid, my dear," he whispered. "Perhaps," he continued,
+glancing at Barthorpe, "I had better tell you when and where it was
+made. About six months ago--in this room. One day Mr. Herapath called me
+in here. He had his then secretary, Mr. Burchill, with him. He took a
+document out of a drawer, told us that it was his will, signed it in our
+joint presence, and we witnessed his signature in each other's presence.
+He then placed the will in an envelope, which he sealed. I do not know
+the terms of the will--but I know where the will is."
+
+Barthorpe's voice sounded strangely husky as he got out one word:
+
+"Where?"
+
+Mr. Tertius took Peggie by the elbow and led her across the room to a
+recess in which stood an ancient oak bureau.
+
+"This old desk," he said, "belonged, so he always told me, to Jacob's
+great-grandfather. There is a secret drawer in it. Here it is--concealed
+behind another drawer. You put this drawer out--so--and here is the
+secret one. And here--where I saw Jacob Herapath put it--is the will."
+
+Barthorpe, who had followed these proceedings with almost irrepressible
+eagerness, thrust forward a shaking hand. But Mr. Tertius quietly handed
+the sealed envelope to Peggie.
+
+"This envelope," he remarked, "is addressed to Miss Wynne."
+
+Barthorpe made an effort and controlled himself.
+
+"Open it!" he said hoarsely. "Open it!"
+
+Peggie fumbled with the seal of the envelope and then, with a sudden
+impulse, passed it to Selwood.
+
+"Mr. Selwood!" she exclaimed imploringly. "You--I can't. You open it,
+and--"
+
+"And let him read it," added Mr. Tertius.
+
+Selwood, whose nerves had been strung to a high pitch of excitement by
+this scene, hastily slit open the envelope, and drew out a folded sheet
+of foolscap paper. He saw at a glance that there was very little to
+read. His voice trembled slightly as he began a recital of the contents.
+
+ "'This is the last will of me, Jacob Herapath, of 500,
+ Portman Square, London, in the County of Middlesex. I
+ give, devise, and bequeath everything of which I die
+ possessed, whether in real or personal estate, absolutely
+ to my niece, Margaret Wynne, now resident with me at the
+ above address, and I appoint the said Margaret Wynne the
+ sole executor of this my will. And I revoke all former
+ wills and codicils. Dated this eighteenth day of April,
+ 1912.
+
+ "'JACOB HERAPATH.'"
+
+Selwood paused there, and a sudden silence fell--to be as suddenly
+broken by a sharp question from Barthorpe.
+
+"The Witnesses?" he said. "The witnesses!"
+
+Selwood glanced at the further paragraph which he had not thought it
+necessary to read.
+
+"Oh, yes!" he said. "It's witnessed all right." And he went on reading.
+
+ "'Signed by the testator in the presence of us both
+ present at the same time who in his presence and in the
+ presence of each other have hereunto set our names as
+ witnesses.
+
+ "'JOHN CHRISTOPHER TERTIUS, of 500, Portman Square,
+ London: Gentleman.
+
+ "'FRANK BURCHILL, of 331, Upper Seymour Street, London:
+ Secretary.'"
+
+As Selwood finished, he handed the will to Peggie, who in her turn
+hastily gave it to Mr. Tertius. For a moment nobody spoke. Then
+Barthorpe made a step forward.
+
+"Let me see that!" he said, in a strangely quiet voice. "I don't want to
+handle it--hold it up!"
+
+For another moment he stood gazing steadily, intently, at the signatures
+at the foot of the document. Then, without a word or look, he twisted
+sharply on his heel, and walked swiftly out of the room and the house.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE SECOND WITNESS
+
+
+If any close observer had walked away with Barthorpe Herapath from the
+house in Portman Square and had watched his face and noted his manner,
+that observer would have said that his companion looked like a man who was
+either lost in a profound day-dream or had just received a shock that had
+temporarily deprived him of all but the mechanical faculties. And in point
+of strict fact, Barthorpe was both stunned by the news he had just
+received and plunged into deep speculation by a certain feature of it. He
+hurried along, scarcely knowing where he was going--but he was thinking
+all the same. And suddenly he pulled himself up and found that he had
+turned down Portman Street and was already in the thick of Oxford Street's
+busy crowds. A passer-by into whom he jostled in his absent-mindedness
+snarled angrily, bidding him look where he was going--that pulled
+Barthorpe together and he collected his wits, asking himself what he
+wanted. The first thing that met his gaze on this recovery was a little
+Italian restaurant and he straightway made for the door.
+
+"This is what I want," he muttered. "Some place in which to sit down and
+think calmly."
+
+He slipped into a quiet corner as soon as he had entered the restaurant,
+summoned a waiter with a glance, and for a moment concentrated his
+attention on the bill of fare which the man put before him. That slight
+mental exercise restored him; when the waiter had taken his simple order
+and gone away, Barthorpe was fully himself again. And finding himself in
+as satisfactory a state of privacy as he could desire, with none to
+overlook or spy on him, he drew from an inner pocket a letter-case which
+he had taken from Jacob Herapath's private safe at the estate office and
+into which he had cast a hurried glance before leaving Kensington for
+Portman Square.
+
+From this letter-case he now drew a letter, and as he unfolded it he
+muttered a word or two.
+
+"Frank Burchill, 331, Upper Seymour Street," he said. "Um--but not Upper
+Seymour Street any longer, I think. Now let's see what it all is--what
+it all means I've got to find out."
+
+The sheet of paper which he was handling was of the sort used by
+typists, but the letter itself was written by hand, and Barthorpe
+recognized the penmanship as that of his uncle's ex-secretary, Burchill,
+second witness to the will which had just been exhibited to him. Then he
+read, slowly and carefully, what Burchill had written to Jacob
+Herapath--written, evidently, only a few days previously. For there was
+the date, plain enough.
+
+ "35c, Calengrove Mansions,
+ "Maida Vale, W.
+ "_November 11th_, 19--.
+
+ "DEAR SIR,
+
+ "I don't know that I am particularly surprised that you
+ have up to now entirely ignored my letters of the 1st and
+ the 5th instant. You probably think that I am not a
+ person about whom any one need take much trouble; a mean
+ cur, perhaps, who can do no more than snap at a mastiff's
+ heels. I am very well aware (having had the benefit of a
+ year's experience of your character and temperament) that
+ you have very little respect for unmoneyed people and are
+ contemptuous of their ability to interfere with the
+ moneyed. But in that matter you are mistaken. And to put
+ matters plainly, it will pay you far better to keep me a
+ friend than to transform me into an enemy. Therefore I
+ ask you to consider well and deeply the next sentence of
+ this letter--which I will underline.
+
+ "I am in full possession of the secret which you have
+ taken such vast pains to keep for fifteen years.
+
+ "I think you are quite competent to read my meaning, and
+ I now confidently expect to hear that you will take
+ pleasure in obliging me in the way which I indicated to
+ you in my previous letters.
+
+ "Yours faithfully,
+
+ "FRANK BURCHILL."
+
+Barthorpe read this communication three times, pausing over every
+sentence, seeking to read the meanings, the implications, the subtly
+veiled threat. When he folded the square sheet and replaced it in the
+letter-case he half spoke one word:
+
+"Blackmail!"
+
+Then, staring in apparent idleness about the little restaurant, with its
+gilt-framed mirrors, its red, plush-covered seats, its suggestion of
+foreign atmosphere and custom, he idly drummed the tips of his fingers
+on the table, and thought. Naturally, he thought of the writer of the
+letter. Of course, he said to himself, of course he knew Burchill.
+Burchill had been Jacob Herapath's private secretary for rather more
+than a year, and it was now about six months since Jacob had got rid of
+him. He, Barthorpe, remembered very well why Jacob had quietly dismissed
+Burchill. One day Jacob had said to him, with a dry chuckle:
+
+"I'm getting rid of that secretary of mine--it won't do."
+
+"What won't do?" Barthorpe had asked.
+
+"He's beginning to make eyes at Peggie," Jacob had answered with another
+chuckle, "and though Peggie's a girl of sense, that fellow's too good
+looking to have about a house. I never ought to have had him. However--he
+goes."
+
+Barthorpe, as he ate the cutlets and sipped the half-bottle of claret
+which the waiter presently brought him, speculated on these facts and
+memories. He was not very sure about Burchill's antecedents: he believed
+he was a young man of good credentials and high respectability--personally,
+he had always wondered why old Jacob Herapath, a practical business man,
+should have taken as a private secretary a fellow who looked, dressed,
+spoke, and behaved like a play-actor. As it all came within the scope of
+things he mused on Burchill and his personal appearance, calling up the
+ex-secretary's graceful and slender figure, his oval, olive-tinted face,
+his large, dark, lustrous eyes, his dark, curling hair, his somewhat
+affected dress, his tall, wide-brimmed hats, his taper fingers, his
+big, wide-ended cravats. It had once amused Barthorpe--and many other
+people--to see Jacob Herapath and his secretary together; nevertheless,
+Jacob had always spoken of Burchill as being thoroughly capable,
+painstaking, thorough and diligent. His airs and graces Jacob put down as
+a young man's affectations--yet there came the time when they suited Jacob
+no longer.
+
+"I catch him talking too much to Peggie," he had added, in that
+conversation of which Barthorpe was thinking. "Better get rid of him
+before they pass the too-much stage."
+
+So Burchill had gone, and Barthorpe had heard no more of him until now.
+But what he had heard now was a revelation. Burchill had witnessed a
+will of Jacob Herapath's, which, if good and valid and the only will in
+existence, would leave him, Barthorpe, a ruined man. Burchill had
+written a letter to Jacob Herapath asking for some favour, reward,
+compensation, as the price of his silence about a secret. What secret?
+Barthorpe could not even guess at it--but Burchill had said, evidently
+knowing what he was talking about, that Jacob Herapath had taken vast
+pains to keep it for fifteen years.
+
+By the time Barthorpe had finished his lunch he had come to the
+conclusion that there was only one thing for him to do. He must go
+straight to Calengrove Mansions and interview Mr. Frank Burchill. In one
+way or another he must make sure of him, or, rather--though it was
+really the same thing--sure of what he could tell. And on the way there
+he would make sure of something else--in order to do which he presently
+commissioned a taxi-cab and bade its driver go first to 331, Upper
+Seymour Street.
+
+The domestic who answered Barthorpe's double knock at that house shook
+her head when he designedly asked for Mr. Frank Burchill. Nobody of that
+name, she said. But on being assured that there once had been a lodger
+of that name in residence there, she observed that she would fetch her
+mistress, and disappeared to return with an elderly lady who also shook
+her head at sight of the caller.
+
+"Mr. Burchill left here some time ago," she said. "Nearly six months. I
+don't know where he is."
+
+"Did he leave no address to which his letters were to be sent?" asked
+Barthorpe, affecting surprise.
+
+"He said there'd be no letters coming--and there haven't been," answered
+the landlady. "And I've neither seen nor heard of him since he went."
+
+Something in her manner suggested to Barthorpe that she had no desire to
+renew acquaintance with her former lodger. This sent Barthorpe away well
+satisfied. It was precisely what he wanted. The three people whom he had
+left in Portman Square in all probability knew no other address than
+this at which to seek for Burchill when he was wanted; they would seek
+him there eventually and get no news. Luckily for himself, Barthorpe
+knew where he was to be found, and he went straight off up Edgware Road
+to find him.
+
+Calengrove Mansions proved to be a new block of flats in the dip of
+Maida Vale; 35c was a top flat in a wing which up to that stage of its
+existence did not appear to be much sought after by would-be tenants. It
+was some time before Barthorpe succeeded in getting an answer to his
+ring and knock; when at last the door was opened Burchill himself looked
+out upon him, yawning, and in a dressing-gown. And narrowly and
+searchingly as Barthorpe glanced at Burchill he could not see a trace of
+unusual surprise or embarrassment in his face. He looked just as any man
+might look who receives an unexpected caller.
+
+"Oh!" he said. "Mr. Barthorpe Herapath! Come in--do. I'm a bit late--a
+good bit late, in fact. You see, I'm doing dramatic criticism now, and
+there was an important _première_ last night at the Hyperion, and I had
+to do a full column, and so--but that doesn't interest you. Come in,
+pray."
+
+He led the way into a small sitting-room, drew forward an easy-chair,
+and reaching down a box of cigarettes from the mantelpiece offered its
+contents to his visitor. Barthorpe, secretly wondering if all this
+unconcerned behaviour was natural or merely a bit of acting, took a
+cigarette and dropped into the chair.
+
+"I don't suppose you thought of seeing me when you opened your door,
+Burchill?" he remarked good-humouredly, as he took the match which his
+host had struck for him. "Last man in the world you thought of seeing,
+eh?"
+
+Burchill calmly lighted a cigarette for himself before he answered.
+
+"Well," he said at last, "I don't know--you never know who's going to
+turn up. But to be candid, I didn't expect to see you, and I don't know
+why you've come."
+
+Barthorpe slowly produced the letter-case from his pocket, took
+Burchill's letter from it, and held it before him.
+
+"That's what brought me here," he said significantly. "That! Of course,
+you recognize it."
+
+Burchill glanced at the letter without turning a hair. If he was merely
+acting, thought Barthorpe, he was doing it splendidly, and instead of
+writing dramatic criticism he ought to put on the sock and buskins
+himself. But somehow he began to believe that Burchill was not acting.
+And he was presently sure of it when Burchill laughed--contemptuously.
+
+"Oh!" said Burchill. "Ah! So Mr. Jacob Herapath employs legal
+assistance--your assistance--in answering me? Foolish--foolish! Or,
+since that is, perhaps, too strong a word--indiscreet. Indiscreet--and
+unnecessary. Say so, pray, to Mr. Jacob Herapath."
+
+Barthorpe remained silent a moment; then he put the letter back in the
+case and gave Burchill a sharp steady look.
+
+"Good gracious, man!" he said quietly. "Are you pretending? Or--haven't
+you heard? Say--that--to Jacob Herapath? Jacob Herapath is dead!"
+
+Burchill certainly started at that. What was more he dropped his
+cigarette, and when he straightened himself from picking it up his face
+was flushed a little.
+
+"Upon my honour!" he exclaimed. "I didn't know. Dead! When? It must have
+been sudden."
+
+"Sudden!" said Barthorpe. "Sudden? He was murdered!"
+
+There was no doubt that this surprised Burchill. At any rate, he showed
+all the genuine signs of surprise. He stood staring at Barthorpe for a
+full minute of silence, and when he spoke his voice had lost something
+of its usual affectation.
+
+"Murdered?" he said. "Murdered! Are you sure of that? You are? Good
+heavens!--no, I've heard nothing. But I've not been out since two
+o'clock this morning, so how could I hear? Murdered----" he broke off
+sharply and stared at his visitor. "And you came to me--why?"
+
+"I came to ask you if you remember witnessing my uncle's will," replied
+Barthorpe promptly. "Give me a plain answer. Do you remember?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+GREEK AGAINST GREEK
+
+
+At this direct question, Burchill, who had been standing on the
+hearthrug since Barthorpe entered the room, turned away and took a seat
+in the corner of a lounge opposite his visitor. He gave Barthorpe a
+peculiarly searching look before he spoke, and as soon as he replied
+Barthorpe knew that here was a man who was not readily to be drawn.
+
+"Oh," said Burchill, "so I am supposed to have witnessed a will made by
+Mr. Jacob Herapath, am I?"
+
+Barthorpe made a gesture of impatience.
+
+"Don't talk rot!" he said testily. "A man either knows that he witnessed
+a will or knows that he didn't witness a will."
+
+"Excuse me," returned Burchill, "I don't agree with that proposition. I
+can imagine it quite possible that a man may think he has witnessed a
+will when he has done nothing of the sort. I can also imagine it just as
+possible that a man may have really witnessed a will when he thought he
+was signing some much less important document. Of course, you're a
+lawyer, and I'm not. But I believe that what I have just said is much
+more in accordance with what we may call the truth of life than what
+you've said."
+
+"If a man sees another man sign a document and witnesses the signature
+together with a third man who had been present throughout, what would
+you say was being done?" asked Barthorpe, sneeringly. "Come, now?"
+
+"I quite apprehend your meaning," replied Burchill. "You put it very
+cleverly."
+
+"Then why don't you answer my question?" demanded Barthorpe.
+
+Burchill laughed softly.
+
+"Why not answer mine?" he said. "However, I'll ask it in another and
+more direct form. Have you seen my signature as witness to a will made
+by Jacob Herapath?"
+
+"Yes," replied Barthorpe.
+
+"Are you sure it was my signature?" asked Burchill.
+
+Barthorpe lifted his eyes and looked searchingly at his questioner. But
+Burchill's face told him nothing. What was more, he was beginning to
+feel that he was not going to get anything out of Burchill that Burchill
+did not want to tell. He remained silent, and again Burchill laughed.
+
+"You see," he said, "I can suppose all sorts of things. I can suppose,
+for example, that there's such a thing as forging a signature--two
+signatures--three signatures to a will--or, indeed, to any other
+document. Don't you think that instead of asking me a direct question
+like this that you'd better wait until this will comes before the--is it
+the Probate Court?--and then let some of the legal gentlemen ask me if
+that--that!--is my signature? I'm only putting it to you, you know. But
+perhaps you'd like to tell me--all about it?" He paused, looking
+carefully at Barthorpe, and as Barthorpe made no immediate answer, he
+went on speaking in a lower, softer tone. "All about it," he repeated
+insinuatingly. "Ah!"
+
+Barthorpe suddenly flung his cigarette in the hearth with a gesture that
+implied decision.
+
+"I will!" he exclaimed. "It may be the shortest way out. Very
+well--listen, then. I tell you my uncle was murdered at his office
+about--well, somewhere between twelve and three o'clock this morning.
+Naturally, after the preliminaries were over, I wanted to find out
+if he'd made a will--naturally, I say."
+
+"Naturally, you would," murmured Burchill.
+
+"I didn't believe he had," continued Barthorpe. "But I examined his safe
+at the office, and I was going to examine that in his study at Portman
+Square when Tertius said in the presence of my cousin, myself, and
+Selwood, your successor, that there was a will, and produced one from a
+secret drawer in an old bureau----"
+
+"A secret drawer in an old bureau!" murmured Burchill. "How deeply
+interesting for all of you!--quite dramatic. Yes?"
+
+"Which, on being inspected," continued Barthorpe, "proved to be a
+holograph----"
+
+"Pardon," interrupted Burchill, "a holograph? Now, I am very ignorant.
+What is a holograph?"
+
+"A holograph will is a will entirely written in the handwriting of the
+person who makes it," replied Barthorpe.
+
+"I see. So this was written out by Mr. Jacob Herapath, and witnessed
+by--whom?" asked Burchill.
+
+"Tertius as first witness, and you as second," answered Barthorpe. "Now
+then, I've told you all about it. What are you going to tell me?
+Come--did you witness this will or not? Good gracious, man!--don't you
+see what a serious thing it is?"
+
+"How can I when I don't know the contents of the will?" asked Burchill.
+"You haven't told me that--yet."
+
+Barthorpe swallowed an exclamation of rage.
+
+"Contents!" he exclaimed. "He left everything--everything!--to my
+cousin! Everything to her."
+
+"And nothing to you," said Burchill, accentuating his habitual drawl.
+"Really, how infernally inconsiderate! Yes--now I see that it is
+serious. But--only for you."
+
+Barthorpe glared angrily at him and began to growl, almost threateningly.
+And Burchill spoke, soothingly and quietly.
+
+"Don't," he said. "It does no good, you know. Serious--yes. Most
+serious--for you, as I said. But remember--only serious for you if the
+will is--good. Eh?"
+
+Barthorpe jumped to his feet and thrust his hands in his pockets. He
+began to pace the room.
+
+"Hang me if I know what you mean, Burchill!" he said. "Is that your
+signature on that will or not?"
+
+"How can I say until I see it?" asked Burchill, with seeming innocence.
+"Let's postpone matters until then. By the by, did Mr. Tertius say that
+it was my signature?"
+
+"What do you mean!" exclaimed Barthorpe. "Why, of course, he said that
+he and you witnessed the will!"
+
+"Ah, to be sure, he would say so," assented Burchill. "Of course.
+Foolish of me to ask. It's quite evident that we must postpone matters
+until this will is--what do you call it?--presented, propounded--what is
+it?--for probate. Let's turn to something else. My letter to your uncle,
+for instance. Of course, as you've got it, you've read it."
+
+Barthorpe sat down again and stared.
+
+"You're a cool customer, Master Burchill!" he said. "By Jove, you are!
+You're playing some game. What is it?"
+
+Burchill smiled deprecatingly.
+
+"What's your own?" he asked. "Or, if that's too pointed a question at
+present, suppose we go back to--my letter? Want to ask me anything about
+it?"
+
+Barthorpe again drew the letter from the case. He affected to re-read
+it, while Burchill narrowly watched him.
+
+"What," asked Barthorpe at last, "what was it that you wanted my uncle
+to oblige you with? A loan?"
+
+"If it's necessary to call it anything," replied Burchill suavely, "you
+can call it a--well, say a donation. That sounds better--it's more
+dignified."
+
+"I don't suppose it matters much what it's called," said Barthorpe
+drily. "I should say, from the tone of your letter, that most people
+would call it----"
+
+"Yes, but not polite people," interrupted Burchill, "and you and I
+are--or must be--polite. So we'll say donation. The fact is, I want to
+start a newspaper--weekly--devoted to the arts. I thought your
+uncle--now, unfortunately, deceased--would finance it. I didn't want
+much, you know."
+
+"How much?" asked Barthorpe. "The amount isn't stated in this letter."
+
+"It was stated in the two previous letters," replied Burchill. "Oh, not
+much. Ten thousand."
+
+"The price of your silence, eh?" suggested Barthorpe.
+
+"Dirt cheap!" answered Burchill.
+
+Barthorpe folded up the letter once more and put it away. He helped
+himself to another cigarette and lighted it before he spoke again. Then
+he leaned forward confidentially.
+
+"What is the secret?" he asked.
+
+Burchill stated and assumed an air of virtuous surprise.
+
+"My dear fellow!" he said. "That's against all the rules--all the rules
+of----"
+
+"Of shady society," sneered Barthorpe. "Confound it, man, what do you
+beat about the bush so much for? Hang it, I've a pretty good notion of
+you, and I daresay you've your own of me. Why can't you tell me?"
+
+"You forget that I offered not to tell for--ten thousand pounds," said
+Burchill. "Therefore I should want quite as much for telling. If you
+carry ten thousand in cash on you----"
+
+"Is there a secret?" asked Barthorpe. "Sober earnest, now?"
+
+"I have no objection to answering that question," replied Burchill.
+"There is!"
+
+"And you want ten thousand pounds for it?" suggested Barthorpe.
+
+"Pardon me--I want a good deal more for it, under the present much
+altered circumstances," said Burchill quietly. "There is an old saying
+that circumstances alter cases. It's true--they do. I would have taken
+ten thousand pounds from your uncle to hold my tongue--true. But--the
+case is altered by his death."
+
+Barthorpe pondered over this definite declaration for a minute or two.
+Then, lowering his voice, he said:
+
+"Looks uncommonly like--blackmail! And that----"
+
+"Pardon me again," interrupted Burchill. "No blackmail at all--in my
+view. I happen to possess information of a certain nature, and----"
+
+Barthorpe interrupted in his turn.
+
+"The thing is," he said, "the only thing is--how long are you and I
+going to beat about the bush? Are you going to tell me if you signed
+that will I told you of?"
+
+"Certainly not before I've seen it," answered Burchill promptly.
+
+"Will you tell me then?"
+
+"That entirely depends."
+
+"On--what?"
+
+"Circumstances!"
+
+"Have the circumstances got anything to do with this secret?"
+
+"Everything! More than anything--now."
+
+"Now--what?"
+
+"Now that Jacob Herapath is dead. Look here!" continued Burchill,
+leaning forward and speaking impressively. "Take my counsel. Leave this
+for the moment and come to see me--now, when? Tonight. Come tonight.
+I've nothing to do. Come at ten o'clock. Then--I'll be in a position to
+say a good deal more. How will that do?"
+
+"That'll do," answered Barthorpe after a moment's consideration.
+"Tonight, here, at ten o 'clock."
+
+He got up and made for the door. Burchill got up too, and for a moment
+both men glanced at each other. Then Burchill spoke.
+
+"I suppose you've no idea who murdered your uncle?" he said.
+
+"Not the slightest!" exclaimed Barthorpe. "Have you?"
+
+"None! Of course--the police are on the go?"
+
+"Oh, of course!"
+
+"All right," said Burchill. "Tonight, then."
+
+He opened the door for his visitor, nodded to him, as he passed out, and
+when he had gone sat down in the easy chair which Barthorpe had vacated
+and for half an hour sat immobile, thinking. At the end of that
+half-hour he rose, went into his bedroom, made an elaborate toilet, went
+out, found a taxi-cab, and drove off to Portman Square.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+MR. BENJAMIN HALFPENNY
+
+
+When Barthorpe Herapath left his cousin, Mr. Tertius, and Selwood in
+company with the newly discovered will, and walked swiftly out of the
+house and away from Portman Square, he passed without seeing it a quiet,
+yet smartly appointed coupé brougham which came round the corner from
+Portman Street and pulled up at the door which Barthorpe had just
+quitted. From it at once descended an elderly gentleman, short, stout,
+and rosy, who bustled up the steps of the Herapath mansion and appeared
+to fume and fret until his summons was responded to. When the door was
+opened to him he bustled inside at the same rate, rapped out the
+inquiry, "Miss Wynne at home?--Miss Wynne at home?" several times
+without waiting for a reply, and never ceased in his advance to the door
+of the study, into which he precipitated himself panting and blowing, as
+if he had run hard all the way from his original starting-point. The
+three people standing on the hearthrug turned sharply and two of them
+uttered cries which betokened pleasure mixed with relief.
+
+"Mr. Halfpenny!" exclaimed Peggie, almost joyfully. "How good of you to
+come!"
+
+"We had only just spoken--were only just speaking of you," remarked Mr.
+Tertius. "In fact--yes, Mr. Selwood and I were thinking of going round
+to your offices to see if you were in town."
+
+The short, stout, and rosy gentleman who, as soon as he had got well
+within the room, began to unswathe his neck from a voluminous white silk
+muffler, now completed his task and advancing upon Peggie solemnly
+kissed her on both cheeks, held her away from him, looked at her, kissed
+her again, and then patted her on the shoulder. This done, he shook
+hands solemnly with Mr. Tertius, bowed to Selwood, took off his
+spectacles and proceeded to polish them with a highly-coloured bandana
+handkerchief which he produced from the tail of his overcoat. This
+operation concluded, he restored the spectacles to his nose, sat down,
+placed his hands, palm downwards, on his plump knees and solemnly
+inspected everybody.
+
+"My dear friends!" he said in a hushed, deep voice. "My dear, good
+friends! This dreadful, awful, most afflicting news! I heard it but
+three-quarters of an hour ago--at the office, to which I happened
+by mere chance, to have come up for the day. I immediately ordered
+out our brougham and drove here--to see if I could be of any use.
+You will command me, my dear friends, in anything that I can do. Not
+professionally, of course. No--in that respect you have Mr. Barthorpe
+Herapath. But--otherwise."
+
+Mr. Tertius looked at Peggie.
+
+"I don't know whether we shan't be glad of Mr. Halfpenny's professional
+services?" he said. "The truth is, Halfpenny, we were talking of seeing
+you professionally when you came in. That's one truth--another is that a
+will has been found--our poor friend's will, of course."
+
+"God bless me!" exclaimed Mr. Halfpenny. "A will--our poor friend's
+will--has been found! But surely, Barthorpe, as nephew, and solicitor--eh?"
+
+Again Mr. Tertius looked at Peggie.
+
+"I suppose we'd better tell Mr. Halfpenny everything," he remarked. "Of
+course, Halfpenny, you'll understand that as soon as this dreadful
+affair was discovered and the first arrangements had been made,
+Barthorpe, as only male relative, began to search for a will. He
+resented any interference from me and was very rude to me, but when he
+came here and proposed to examine that safe, I told him at once that I
+knew of a will and where it was, though I didn't know its terms. And I
+immediately directed him to it, and we found it and read it a few
+minutes ago with the result that Barthorpe at once quitted the
+house--you must have passed him in the square."
+
+"God bless us!" repeated Mr. Halfpenny. "I judge from that, then--but
+you had better show me this document."
+
+Mr. Tertius at once produced the will, and Mr. Halfpenny, rising from
+his chair, marched across the room to one of the windows where he
+solemnly half-chanted every word from start to finish. This performance
+over, he carefully and punctiliously folded the document into its
+original lines, replaced it in its envelope, and grasping this firmly in
+his hand, resumed his seat and motioned everybody to attention.
+
+"My dear Tertius!" he said. "Oblige me by narrating, carefully, briefly,
+your recollection of the circumstances under which your signature to
+this highly important document was obtained and made."
+
+"Easily done," responded Mr. Tertius. "One night, some months ago, when
+our poor friend was at work here with his secretary, a Mr. Frank
+Burchill, he called me into the room, just as Burchill was about to
+leave. He said: 'I want you two to witness my signature to a paper.'
+He----"
+
+"A moment," interrupted Mr. Halfpenny. "He said--'a paper.' Did he not
+say 'my will'?"
+
+"Not before the two of us. He merely said a paper. He produced the
+paper--that paper, which you now hold. He let us see that it was covered
+with writing, but we did not see what the writing was. He folded it
+over, laid it, so folded, on that desk, and signed his name. Then we
+both signed it in the blank spaces which he indicated: I first, then
+Burchill. He then put it into an envelope--that envelope--and fastened
+it up. As regards that part of the proceedings," said Mr. Tertius, "that
+is all."
+
+"There was, then, another part?" suggested Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"Yes," replied Mr. Tertius. "There was. Burchill then left--at once. I,
+too, was leaving the room when Jacob called me back. When we were alone,
+he said: 'That was my will that you've just witnessed. Never mind what's
+in it--I may alter it, or some of it, some day, but I don't think I
+shall. Now look here, I'm going to seal this envelope, and I'll show you
+where I put it when it's sealed.' He then sealed the envelope in two
+places, as you see, and afterwards, in my presence, placed it in a
+secret drawer, which I'll show to you now. And that done, he said:
+'There, Tertius, you needn't mention that to anybody, unless I happen to
+be taken off suddenly.' And," concluded Mr. Tertius, as he motioned Mr.
+Halfpenny to accompany him to the old bureau, "I never, of course, did
+mention it until half an hour ago."
+
+Mr. Halfpenny solemnly inspected the secret drawer, made no remark upon
+it, and reseated himself.
+
+"Now," he said, "this Mr. Frank Burchill--the other witness? He left our
+old friend?"
+
+"Some little time ago," replied Mr. Tertius.
+
+"Still, we have his address on the will," said Mr. Halfpenny. "I shall
+call on Mr. Burchill at once--as soon as I leave here. There is, of
+course, no doubt as to the validity of this will. You said just now that
+Barthorpe left you as soon as he had seen it. Now, what did Barthorpe
+say about it?"
+
+"Nothing!" answered Mr. Tertius. "He went away without a word--rushed
+away, in fact."
+
+Mr. Halfpenny shook his head with profound solemnity.
+
+"I am not in the least surprised to hear that," he observed. "Barthorpe
+naturally received a great shock. What I am surprised at is--the terms
+of the will. Nothing whatever to Barthorpe--his only male relative--his
+only brother's only son. Extraordinary! My dear," he continued, turning
+to Peggie, "can you account for this? Do you know of anything, any
+difference between them, anything at all which would make your uncle
+leave his nephew out of his will?"
+
+"Nothing!" answered Peggie. "And I'm very troubled about it. Does it
+really mean that I get everything, and Barthorpe nothing?"
+
+"That is the precise state of affairs," answered Mr. Halfpenny. "And it
+is all the more surprising when we bear in mind that you two are the
+only relations Jacob Herapath had, and that he was a rich man--a very
+rich man indeed. However, he doubtless had his reasons. And now, as I
+conclude you desire me to act for you, I shall take charge of this will
+and lock it up in my safe as soon as I return to the office. On my way,
+I shall call at Mr. Burchill's address and just have a word with him.
+Tertius, you had better come with me. And--yes, there is another thing
+that I should like to have done. Mr. Selwood--are you engaged on any
+business?"
+
+"No," replied Selwood, who was secretly speculating on the meaning of
+the morning's strange events. "I have nothing to attend to."
+
+"Then will you go to Mr. Barthorpe Herapath's office--in Craven Street,
+I think?--and see him personally and tell him that Mr. Benjamin
+Halfpenny is in town, has been acquainted with these matters by Mr.
+Tertius and Miss Wynne, and would esteem it a favour if he would call
+upon him before five o'clock. Thank you, Mr. Selwood. Now, Tertius, you
+and I will attend to our business."
+
+Left alone, Peggie Wynne suddenly realized that the world had become a
+vastly different world to what it had seemed a few short hours before.
+This room, into which Jacob Herapath, bustling and busy, would never
+come again, was already a place of dread; nay, the whole house in
+which she had spent so many years of comfort and luxury suddenly
+assumed a strange atmosphere of distastefulness. It was true that her
+uncle had never spent much time in the house. An hour or two in the
+morning--yes, but by noon he had hurried off to some Committee at the
+House of Commons, and in session time she had never seen him again
+that day. But he had a trick of running in for a few minutes at
+intervals during the day; he would come for a cup of tea; sometimes he
+would contrive to dine at home; whether he was at home or not, his
+presence, always alert, masterful, active, seemed to be everywhere in
+the place. She could scarcely realize that she would never see him
+again. And as she stood looking at his vacant chair she made an effort
+to realize what it all really meant to her, and suddenly, for the
+first time in her life, she felt the meaning of the usually vague
+term--loneliness. In all practical essentials she was absolutely
+alone. So far as she knew she had no relations in the world but
+Barthorpe Herapath--and there was something--something shadowy and
+undefinable--about Barthorpe which she neither liked nor trusted.
+Moreover, she had caught a glimpse of Barthorpe's face as he turned
+from looking at the will and hurried away, and what she had seen had
+given her a strange feeling of fear and discomfort. Barthorpe, she
+knew, was not the sort of man to be crossed or thwarted or balked of
+his will, and now----
+
+"Supposing Barthorpe should begin to hate me because all the money is
+mine?" she thought. "Then--why, then I should have no one! No one of my
+own flesh and blood, anyway. Of course, there's Mr. Tertius. But--I must
+see Barthorpe. I must tell him that I shall insist on sharing--if it's
+all mine, I can do that. And yet--why didn't Uncle Jacob divide it? Why
+did he leave Barthorpe--nothing?"
+
+Still pondering sadly over these and kindred subjects Peggie went
+upstairs to a parlour of her own, a room in which she did as she liked
+and made into a den after her own taste. There, while the November
+afternoon deepened in shadow, she sat and thought still more deeply. And
+she was still plunged in thought when Kitteridge came softly into the
+room and presented a card. Peggie took it from the butler's salver and
+glanced half carelessly at it. Then she looked at Kitteridge with some
+concern.
+
+"Mr. Burchill?" she said. "Here?"
+
+"No, miss," answered Kitteridge. "Mr. Burchill desired me to present his
+most respectful sympathy, and to say that if he could be of any service
+to you or to the family, he begged that you would command him. His
+address is on this card, miss."
+
+"Very kind of him," murmured Peggie, and laid the card aside on her
+writing-table. When Kitteridge had gone she picked it up and looked at
+it again. Burchill?--she had been thinking of him only a few minutes
+before the butler's entrance; thinking a good deal. And her thoughts had
+been disquieted and unhappy. Burchill was the last man in the world that
+she wished to have anything to do with, and the fact that his name
+appeared on Jacob Herapath's will had disturbed her more than she would
+have cared to admit.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE SHADOW
+
+
+Mr. Halfpenny, conducting Mr. Tertius to the coupé brougham, installed
+him in its further corner, got in himself and bade his coachman drive
+slowly to 331, Upper Seymour Street.
+
+"I said slowly," he remarked as they moved gently away, "because I
+wanted a word with you before we see this young man. Tertius--what's the
+meaning of all this?"
+
+Mr. Tertius groaned dolefully and shook his head.
+
+"There is so much, Halfpenny," he answered, "that I don't quite know
+what you specifically mean by this. Do you mean----"
+
+"I mean, first of all, Herapath's murder," said Mr. Halfpenny. "You
+think it is a case of murder?"
+
+"I'm sure it's a case of murder--cold, calculated murder," replied Mr.
+Tertius, with energy. "Vile murder, Halfpenny."
+
+"And, as far as you know, is there no clue?" asked the old lawyer.
+"There's nothing said or suggested in the newspapers. Haven't you any
+notion--hasn't Barthorpe any notion?"
+
+Mr. Tertius remained silent for a while. The coupé brougham turned into
+Upper Seymour Street.
+
+"I think," he said at last, "yes, I think that when we've made this
+call, I shall ask you to accompany me to my friend Cox-Raythwaite's, in
+Endsleigh Gardens--you know him, I believe. I've already seen him this
+morning and told him--something. When we get there, I'll tell it to you,
+and he shall show you--something. After that, we'll hear what your legal
+instinct suggests. It is my opinion, Halfpenny--I offer it with all
+deference, as a layman--that great, excessive caution is necessary. This
+case is extraordinary--very extraordinary. That is--in my opinion."
+
+"It's an extraordinary thing that Jacob Herapath should have made that
+will," murmured Mr. Halfpenny reflectively. "Why Barthorpe should be
+entirely ignored is--to me--marvellous. And--it may be--significant. You
+never heard of any difference, quarrel, anything of that sort, between
+him and his uncle?"
+
+"I have not the remotest notion as to what the relations were that
+existed between the uncle and the nephew," replied Mr. Tertius. "And
+though, as I have said, I knew that the will was in existence, I hadn't
+the remotest idea, the faintest notion, of its contents until we took it
+out of the sealed envelope an hour or so ago. But----" he paused and
+shook his head meaningly.
+
+"Well?" said Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"I'm very sure, knowing Jacob as I did, that he had a purpose in making
+that will," answered Mr. Tertius. "He was not the man to do anything
+without good reasons. I think we are here."
+
+The landlady of No. 331 opened its door herself to these two visitors.
+Her look of speculative interest on seeing two highly respectable
+elderly gentlemen changed to one of inquisitiveness when she heard what
+they wanted.
+
+"No, sir," she answered. "Mr. Frank Burchill doesn't live here now. And
+it's a queer thing that during the time he did live here and gave me
+more trouble than any lodger I ever had, him keeping such strange hours
+of a night and early morning, he never had nobody to call on him, as I
+recollect of! And now here's been three gentlemen asking for him within
+this last hour--you two and another gentleman. And I don't know where
+Mr. Burchill lives, and don't want, neither!"
+
+"My dear lady!" said Mr. Halfpenny, mildly and suavely. "I am sure we are
+deeply sorry to disturb you--no doubt we have called you away from your
+dinner. Perhaps, er, this"--here there was a slight chink of silver in
+Mr. Halfpenny's hand, presently repeated in one of the landlady's--"will,
+er, compensate you a little? But we are really anxious to see Mr.
+Burchill--haven't you any idea where he's gone to live? Didn't he
+leave an address for any letters that might come here?"
+
+"He didn't, sir--not that he ever had many letters," answered the
+landlady. "And I haven't the remotest notion. Of course, if I had I'd
+give the address. But, as I said to the gentleman what was here not so
+long ago, I've neither seen nor heard of Mr. Burchill since he left--and
+that's six months since."
+
+Mr. Halfpenny contrived to give his companion a nudge of the elbow.
+
+"Is it, indeed, ma'am?" he said. "Ah! That gentleman who called, now?--I
+think he must be a friend of ours, who didn't know we were coming. What
+was he like, now, ma'am?"
+
+"He was a tallish, fine-built gentleman," answered the landlady.
+"Fresh-coloured, clean-shaved gentleman. And for that matter, he can't
+be so far away--it isn't more than a quarter of an hour since he was
+here. I'll ask my girl if she saw which way he went."
+
+"Don't trouble, pray, ma'am, on my account," entreated Mr. Halfpenny.
+"It's of no consequence. We're deeply obliged to you." He swept off his
+hat in an old-fashioned obeisance and drew Mr. Tertius away to the coupé
+brougham. "That was Barthorpe, of course," he said. "He lost no time,
+you see, Tertius, in trying to see Burchill."
+
+"Why should he want to see Burchill?" asked Mr. Tertius.
+
+"Wanted to know what Burchill had to say about signing the will, of
+course," replied Mr. Halfpenny. "Well--what next? Do you want me to see
+Cox-Raythwaite with you?"
+
+Mr. Tertius, who had seemed to be relapsing into a brown study on the
+edge of the pavement, woke up into some show of eagerness. "Yes, yes!"
+he said. "Yes, by all means let us go to Cox-Raythwaite. I'm sure that's
+the thing to do. And there's another man--the chauffeur. But--yes, we'll
+go to Cox-Raythwaite first. Tell your man to drive to the corner of
+Endsleigh Gardens--the corner by St. Pancras Church."
+
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite was exactly where Mr. Tertius had left him in
+the morning, when the two visitors were ushered into his laboratory. And
+for the second time that day he listened in silence to Mr. Tertius's
+story. When it was finished, he looked at Mr. Halfpenny, whose solemn
+countenance had grown more solemn than ever.
+
+"Queer story, isn't it, Halfpenny?" he said laconically. "How does it
+strike you?"
+
+Mr. Halfpenny slowly opened his pursed-up lips.
+
+"Queer?" he exclaimed. "God bless me!--I'm astounded! I--but let me see
+these--these things."
+
+"Sealed 'em up not so long ago--just after lunch," remarked the
+Professor, lifting his heavy bulk out of his chair. "But you can see 'em
+all right through the glass. There you are!" He led the way to a
+side-table and pointed to the hermetically-sealed receptacles in which
+he had safely bestowed the tumbler and the sandwich brought so gingerly
+from Portman Square by Mr. Tertius. "The tumbler," he continued, jerking
+a big thumb at it, "will have, of course, to be carefully examined by an
+expert in finger-prints; the sandwich, so to speak, affords primary
+evidence. You see--what there is to see, Halfpenny?"
+
+Mr. Halfpenny adjusted his spectacles, bent down, and examined the
+exhibits with scrupulous, absorbed interest. Again he pursed up his
+lips, firmly, tightly, as if he would never open them again; when he did
+open them it was to emit a veritable whistle which indicated almost as
+much delight as astonishment. Then he clapped Mr. Tertius on the back.
+
+"A veritable stroke of genius!" he exclaimed. "Tertius, my boy, you
+should have been a Vidocq or a Hawkshaw! How did you come to think of
+it? For I confess that with all my forty years' experience of Law,
+I--well, I don't think I should ever have thought of it!"
+
+"Oh, I don't know," said Mr. Tertius, modestly. "I--well, I looked--and
+then, of course, I saw. That's all!"
+
+Mr. Halfpenny sat down and put his hands on his knees.
+
+"It's a good job you did see, anyway," he said, ruminatively; "an
+uncommonly good job. Well--you're certain of what we may call the
+co-relative factor to what is most obvious in that sandwich?"
+
+"Absolutely certain," replied Mr. Tertius.
+
+"And you're equally certain about the diamond ring?"
+
+"Equally and positively certain!"
+
+"Then," said Mr. Halfpenny, rising with great decision, "there is only
+one thing to be done. You and I, Tertius, must go at once--at once!--to
+New Scotland Yard. In fact, we will drive straight there. I happen
+to know a man who is highly placed in the Criminal Investigation
+Department--we will put our information before him. He will know
+what ought to be done. In my opinion, it is one of those cases which
+will require infinite care, precaution, and, for the time being,
+secrecy--mole's work. Let us go, my dear friend."
+
+"Want me--and these things?" asked the Professor.
+
+"For the time being, no," answered Mr. Halfpenny. "Nor, at present, the
+taxi-cab driver that Tertius has told us of. We'll merely tell what we
+know. But take care of these--these exhibits, as if they were the apples
+of your eyes, Cox-Raythwaite. They--yes, they may hang somebody!"
+
+Half an hour later saw Mr. Halfpenny and Mr. Tertius closeted with a
+gentleman who, in appearance, resembled the popular conception of a
+country squire and was in reality as keen a tracker-down of wrong-doers
+as ever trod the pavement of Parliament Street. And before Mr. Halfpenny
+had said many words he stopped him.
+
+"Wait a moment," he said, touching a bell at his side, "we're already
+acquainted, of course, with the primary facts of this case, and I've
+told off one of our sharpest men to give special attention to it. We'll
+have him in."
+
+The individual who presently entered and who was introduced to the two
+callers as Detective-Inspector Davidge looked neither preternaturally
+wise nor abnormally acute. What he really did remind Mr. Tertius of was
+a gentleman of the better-class commercial traveller persuasion--he was
+comfortable, solid, genial, and smartly if quietly dressed. And he and
+the highly placed gentleman listened to all that the two visitors had
+to tell with quiet and concentrated attention and did not even exchange
+looks with each other. In the end the superior nodded as if something
+satisfied him.
+
+"Very well," he said. "Now the first thing is--silence. You two
+gentlemen will not breathe a word of all this to any one. As you said
+just now, Mr. Halfpenny, the present policy is--secrecy. There will be a
+great deal of publicity during the next few days--the inquest, and so
+on. We shall not be much concerned with it--the public will say that as
+usual we are doing nothing. You may think so, too. But you may count on
+this--we shall be doing a great deal, and within a very short time from
+now we shall never let Mr. Barthorpe Herapath out of our sight until--we
+want him."
+
+"Just so," assented Mr. Halfpenny. He took Mr. Tertius away, and when he
+had once more bestowed him in the coupé brougham, dug him in the ribs.
+"Tertius!" he said, with something like a dry chuckle. "What an
+extraordinary thing it is that people can go about the world unconscious
+that other folks are taking a very close and warm interest in them! Now,
+I'll lay a pound to a penny that Barthorpe hasn't a ghost of a notion
+that he's already under suspicion. My idea of the affair, sir, is that
+he has not the mere phantasm of such a thing. And yet, from now, as our
+friend there observed, Master Barthorpe, sir, will be watched. Shadowed,
+Tertius, shadowed!"
+
+Barthorpe Herapath certainly had none of the notions of which Mr.
+Halfpenny spoke. He spent his afternoon, once having quitted Burchill's
+flat, in a businesslike fashion. He visited the estate office in
+Kensington; he went to see the undertaker who had been charged with the
+funeral arrangements; he called in at the local police-office and saw
+the inspector and the detective who had first been brought into
+connection with the case; he made some arrangements with the Coroner's
+officer about the necessary inevitable inquest. He did all these things
+in the fashion of a man who has nothing to fear, who is unconscious that
+other men are already eyeing him with suspicion. And he was quite
+unaware that when he left his office in Craven Street that evening he
+was followed by a man who quietly attended him to his bachelor rooms in
+the Adelphi, who waited patiently until he emerged from them to dine at
+a neighbouring restaurant, who himself dined at the same place, and who
+eventually tracked him to Maida Vale and watched him enter Calengrove
+Mansions.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+FOR TEN PER CENT
+
+
+Mr. Frank Burchill welcomed his visitor with easy familiarity--this might
+have been a mere dropping-in of one friend to another, for the very
+ordinary purpose of spending a quiet social hour before retiring for the
+night. There was a bright fire on the hearth, a small smoking-jacket on
+Burchill's graceful shoulders and fancy slippers on his feet; decanters
+and glasses were set out on the table in company with cigars and
+cigarettes. And by the side of Burchill's easy chair was a pile of
+newspapers, to which he pointed one of his slim white hands as the two men
+settled themselves to talk.
+
+"I've been reading all the newspapers I could get hold of," he observed.
+"Brought all the latest editions in with me after dinner. There's little
+more known, I think, than when you were here this afternoon."
+
+"There's nothing more known," replied Barthorpe. "That is--as far as I'm
+aware."
+
+Burchill took a sip at his glass and regarded Barthorpe thoughtfully
+over its rim.
+
+"In strict confidence," he said, "have you got any idea whatever on the
+subject?"
+
+"None!" answered Barthorpe. "None whatever! I've no more idea of who it
+was that killed my uncle than I have of the name of the horse that'll
+win the Derby of year after next! That's a fact. There isn't a clue."
+
+"The police are at work, of course," suggested Burchill.
+
+"Of course!" replied Barthorpe, with an unconcealed sneer. "And a lot of
+good they are. Whoever knew the police to find out anything, except by a
+lucky accident?"
+
+"Just so," agreed Burchill. "But then--accidents, lucky or otherwise,
+will happen. You can't think of anybody whose interest it was to get
+your esteemed relative out of the way?"
+
+"Nobody!" said Barthorpe. "There may have been somebody. We want to know
+who the man was who came out of the House with him last night--so far we
+don't know. It'll all take a lot of finding out. In the meantime----"
+
+"In the meantime, you're much more concerned and interested in the will,
+eh?" said Burchill.
+
+"I'm much more concerned--being a believer in present necessities--in
+hearing what you've got to say to me now that you've brought me here,"
+answered Barthorpe, coolly. "What is it?"
+
+"Oh, I've a lot to say," replied Burchill. "Quite a lot. But you'll have
+to let me say it in my own fashion. And to start with, I want to ask you
+a few questions. About your family history, for instance."
+
+"I know next to nothing about my family history," said Barthorpe; "but
+if my knowledge is helpful to what we--or I--want to talk about, fire
+ahead!"
+
+"Good!" responded Burchill. "Now, just tell me what you know about Mr.
+Jacob Herapath, about his brother, your father, and about his sister,
+who was, of course, Miss Wynne's mother. Briefly--concisely."
+
+"Not so much," answered Barthorpe. "My grandfather was a medical
+man--pretty well known, I fancy--at Granchester, in Yorkshire; I, of
+course, never knew or saw him. He had three children. The eldest was
+Jacob, who came to his end last night. Jacob left Granchester for
+London, eventually began speculating in real estate, and became--what he
+was. The second was Richard, my father. He went out to Canada as a lad,
+and did there pretty much what Jacob did here in London----"
+
+"With the same results?" interjected Burchill.
+
+Barthorpe made a wry face.
+
+"Unfortunately, no!" he replied. "He did remarkably well to a certain
+point--then he made some most foolish and risky speculations in American
+railroads, lost pretty nearly everything he'd made, and died a poorish
+man."
+
+"Oh--he's dead, then?" remarked Burchill.
+
+"He's dead--years ago," replied Barthorpe. "He died before I came to
+England. I, of course, was born out there. I----."
+
+"Never mind you just now," interrupted Burchill. "Keep to the earlier
+branches of the family. Your grandfather had one other child?"
+
+"A daughter," assented Barthorpe. "I never saw her, either. However, I
+know that her name was Susan. I also know that she married a man named
+Wynne--my cousin's father, of course. I don't know who he was or
+anything about him."
+
+"Nothing?"
+
+"Nothing--nothing at all: My Uncle Jacob never spoke of him to
+me--except to mention that such a person had once existed. My cousin
+doesn't know anything about him, either. All she knows is that her
+father and mother died when she was about--I think--two years old, and
+that Jacob then took charge of her. When she was six years old, he
+brought her to live with him. That was about the time I myself came to
+England."
+
+"All right," said Burchill. "Now, we'll come to you. Tell about
+yourself. It all matters."
+
+"Well, of course, I don't know what you're getting at," replied
+Barthorpe. "But I'm sure you do. Myself, eh? Well, I was put to the Law
+out there in Canada. When my father died--not over well off--I wrote to
+Uncle Jacob, telling him all about how things were. He suggested that I
+should come over to this country, finish my legal training here, and
+qualify. He also promised--if I suited him--to give me his legal work.
+And, of course, I came."
+
+"Naturally," said Burchill. "And that's--how long ago?"
+
+"Between fifteen and sixteen years," answered Barthorpe.
+
+"Did Jacob Herapath take you into his house?" asked Burchill, continuing
+the examination which Barthorpe was beginning to find irksome as well as
+puzzling. "I'm asking all this for good reasons--it's necessary, if you're
+to understand what I'm going to tell you."
+
+"Oh, as long as you're going to tell me something I don't mind telling you
+anything you like to ask," replied Barthorpe. "That's what I want to be
+getting at. No--he didn't take me into the house. But he gave me a very
+good allowance, paid all my expenses until I got through my remaining
+examinations and stages, and was very decent all around. No--I fixed up in
+the rooms which I've still got--a flat in the Adelphi."
+
+"But you went a good deal to Portman Square?"
+
+"Why, yes, a good deal--once or twice a week, as a rule."
+
+"Had your cousin--Miss Wynne--come there then?"
+
+"Yes, she'd just about come. I remember she had a governess. Of course,
+Peggie was a mere child then--about five or six. Must have been six,
+because she's quite twenty-one now."
+
+"And--Mr. Tertius?"
+
+Burchill spoke the name with a good deal of subtle meaning, and
+Barthorpe suddenly looked at him with a rising comprehension.
+
+"Tertius?" he answered. "No--Tertius hadn't arrived on the scene then.
+He came--soon after."
+
+"How soon after?"
+
+"I should say," replied Barthorpe, after a moment's consideration, "I
+should say--from my best recollection--a few months after I came to
+London. It was certainly within a year of my coming."
+
+"You remember his coming?"
+
+"Not particularly. I remember that he came--at first, I took it, as a
+visitor. Then I found he'd had rooms of his own given him, and that he
+was there as a permanency."
+
+"Settled down--just as he has been ever since?"
+
+"Just! Never any difference that I've known of, all these years."
+
+"Did Jacob ever tell you who he was?"
+
+"Never! I never remember my uncle speaking of him in any particular
+fashion--to me. He was simply--there. Sometimes, you saw him; sometimes,
+you didn't see him. At times, I mean, you'd meet him at dinner--other
+times, you didn't."
+
+Burchill paused for a while; when he asked his next question he seemed
+to adopt a more particular and pressing tone.
+
+"Now--have you the least idea who Tertius is?" he asked.
+
+"Not the slightest!" affirmed Barthorpe. "I never have known who he is.
+I never liked him--I didn't like his sneaky way of going about the
+house--I didn't like anything of him--and he never liked me. I always
+had a feeling--a sort of intuition--that he resented my presence--in
+fact, my existence."
+
+"Very likely," said Burchill, with a dry laugh. "Well--has it ever
+struck you that there was a secret between Tertius and Jacob Herapath?"
+
+Barthorpe started. At last they were coming to something definite.
+
+"Ah!" he exclaimed. "So--that's the secret you mentioned in that
+letter?"
+
+"Never mind," replied Burchill. "Answer my question."
+
+"No, then--it never did strike me."
+
+"Very well," said Burchill. "There is a secret."
+
+"There is?"
+
+"There is! And," whispered Burchill, rising and coming nearer to his
+visitor, "it's a secret that will put you in possession of the whole of
+the Herapath property! And--I know it."
+
+Barthorpe had by this time realized the situation. And he was thinking
+things over at a rapid rate. Burchill had asked Jacob Herapath for ten
+thousand pounds as the price of his silence; therefore----
+
+"And, of course, you want to make something out of your knowledge?" he
+said presently.
+
+"Of course," laughed Burchill. He opened a box of cigars, selected one
+and carefully trimmed the end before lighting it. "Of course!" he
+repeated. "Who wouldn't? Besides, you'll be in a position to afford me
+something when you come into all that."
+
+"The will?" suggested Barthorpe.
+
+Burchill threw the burnt-out match into the fire.
+
+"The will," he said slowly, "will be about as valuable as that--when
+I've fixed things up with you. Valueless!"
+
+"You mean it?" exclaimed Barthorpe incredulously. "Then--your signature?"
+
+"Look here!" said Burchill. "The only thing between us is--terms! Fix
+up terms with me, and I'll tell you the whole truth. And then--you'll
+see!"
+
+"Well--what terms?" demanded Barthorpe, a little suspiciously. "If you
+want money down----"
+
+"You couldn't pay in cash down what I want, nor anything like it," said
+Burchill. "I may want an advance that you can pay--but it will only be
+an advance. What I want is ten per cent. on the total value of Jacob
+Herapath's property."
+
+"Good heavens!" exclaimed Barthorpe. "Why I believe he'll cut up for a
+good million and a half!"
+
+"That's about the figure--as I've reckoned it," assented Burchill. "But
+you'll have a lot left when you've paid me ten per cent."
+
+Barthorpe fidgeted in his chair.
+
+"When did you find out this secret?" he asked.
+
+"Got an idea of it just before I left Jacob, and worked it all out, to
+the last detail, after I left," replied Burchill. "I tell you this for a
+certainty--when I've told you all I know, you'll know for an absolute
+fact, that the Herapath property is--yours!"
+
+"Well!" said Barthorpe. "What do you want me to do?"
+
+Burchill moved across to a desk and produced some papers.
+
+"I want you to sign certain documents," he said, "and then I'll tell you
+the whole story. If the story's no good, the documents are no good.
+How's that?"
+
+"That'll do!" answered Barthorpe. "Let's get to business."
+
+It was one o'clock in the morning when Barthorpe left Calengrove
+Mansions. But the eyes that had seen him enter saw him leave, and the
+shadow followed him through the sleeping town until he, too, sought his
+own place of slumber.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+ADJOURNED
+
+
+Ever since Triffitt had made his lucky scoop in connection with the
+Herapath Mystery he had lived in a state of temporary glory, with strong
+hopes of making it a permanent one. Up to the morning of the event, which
+gave him a whole column of the _Argus_ (big type, extra leaded), Triffitt,
+as a junior reporter, had never accomplished anything notable. As he was
+fond of remarking, he never got a chance. Police-court cases--county-court
+cases--fires--coroners' inquests--street accidents--they were all exciting
+enough, no doubt, to the people actively concerned in them, but you never
+got more than twenty or thirty lines out of their details. However, the
+chance did come that morning, and Triffitt made the most of it, and
+the news editor (a highly exacting and particular person) blessed him
+moderately, and told him, moreover, that he could call the Herapath case
+his own. Thenceforth Triffitt ate, drank, smoked, and slept with the
+case; it was the only thing he ever thought of. But at half-past one on
+the afternoon of the third day after what one may call the actual start
+of the affair, Triffitt sat in a dark corner of a tea-shop in Kensington
+High Street, munching ham sandwiches, sipping coffee, and thinking
+lugubriously, if not despairingly. He had spent two and a half hours in
+the adjacent Coroner's Court, listening to all that was said in evidence
+about the death of Jacob Herapath, and he had heard absolutely nothing
+that was not quite well known to him when the Coroner took his seat,
+inspected his jurymen, and opened the inquiry. Two and a half hours, at
+the end of which the court adjourned for lunch--and the affair was just
+as mysterious as ever, and not a single witness had said a new thing, not
+a single fresh fact had been brought forward out of which a fellow could
+make good, rousing copy!
+
+"Rotten!" mumbled Triffitt into his cup. "Extra rotten! Somebody's keeping
+something back--that's about it!"
+
+Just then another young gentleman came into the alcove in which Triffitt
+sat disconsolate--a pink-cheeked young gentleman, who affected a tweed
+suit of loud checks and a sporting coat, and wore a bit of feather in
+the band of his rakish billycock. Triffitt recognized him as a
+fellow-scribe, one of the youthful bloods of an opposition journal, whom
+he sometimes met on the cricket-field; he also remembered that he had
+caught a glimpse of him in the Coroner's Court, and he hastened to make
+room for him.
+
+"Hullo!" said Triffitt.
+
+"What-ho!" responded the pink young gentleman. He beckoned knowingly to
+a waitress, and looked at her narrowly when she came. "Got such a thing
+as a muffin?" he asked.
+
+"Muffins, sir--yes, sir," replied the waitress, "Fresh muffins."
+
+"Pick me out a nice, plump, newly killed muffin" commanded Triffitt's
+companion. "Leave it in its natural state--that is to say, cold--split
+it in half put between the halves a thick, generous slice of that cold
+ham I see on your counter, and produce it with a pot of fresh--and very
+hot--China tea. That's all."
+
+"Plenty too, I should think!" muttered Triffitt. "Fond of indigestion,
+Carver?"
+
+"I don't think you've ever been in Yorkshire, have you, Triffitt?" asked
+Mr. Carver, settling himself comfortably. "You haven't had that
+pleasure?--well, if you'd ever gone to a football match on a Saturday
+afternoon in a Yorkshire factory district, you'd have seen men selling
+muffin-and-ham sandwiches--fact! And I give you my word that if you want
+something to fill you up during the day, something to tide over the
+weary wait between breakfast and dinner, a fat muffin with a thick slice
+of ham is the best thing I know."
+
+"I don't want anything to fill me up," grunted Triffitt. "I want
+something cheering--at present. I've been listening with all my ears for
+something new in that blessed Herapath case all the morning, and, as you
+know, there's been nothing!"
+
+"Think so?" said Carver. "Um--I should have said there was a good deal,
+now."
+
+"Nothing that I didn't know, anyway," remarked Triffitt. "I got all that
+first thing; I was on the spot first."
+
+"Oh, it was you, was it?" said Carver, with professional indifference.
+"Lucky man! So you've only been hearing----"
+
+"A repetition of what I'd heard before," answered Triffitt. "I knew all
+that evidence before I went into court. Caretaker--police--folks from
+Portman Square--doctor--all the lot! And I guess there'll be nothing
+this afternoon--the thing'll be adjourned."
+
+"Oh, that's of course," assented Carver, attacking his muffin sandwich.
+"There'll be more than one adjournment of this particular inquest,
+Triffitt. But aren't you struck by one or two points?"
+
+"I'm struck by this," replied Triffitt. "If what the police-surgeon
+says--and you noticed how positive he was about it--if what he says is
+true, that old Herapath was shot, and died, at, or just before
+(certainly not after, he positively asserted), twelve o'clock midnight,
+it was not he who went to Portman Square!"
+
+"That, of course, is obvious," said Carver. "And it's just as obvious
+that whoever went to Portman Square returned from Portman Square to that
+office. Eh?"
+
+"That hasn't quite struck me," replied Triffitt. "How is it just as
+obvious?"
+
+"Because whoever went to Portman Square went in old Herapath's
+fur-trimmed coat and his slouch hat, and the fur trimmed coat and slouch
+hat were found in the office," answered Carver. "It's absolutely plain,
+that. I put it like this. The murderer, having settled his man, put on
+his victim's coat and hat, took his keys, went to Portman Square, did
+something there, went back to the office, left the coat and hat, and
+hooked it. That, my son, is a dead certainty. There's been little--if
+anything--made of all that before the Coroner, and it's my impression,
+Triffitt, that somebody--somebody official, mind you--is keeping
+something back. Now," continued Carver, dropping his voice to a
+confidential whisper, "I'm only doing a plain report of this affair for
+our organ of light and leading, but I've read it up pretty well, and
+there are two things I want to know, and I'll tell you what, Triffitt,
+if you like to go in with me at finding them out--two can always work
+better than one--I'm game!"
+
+"What are the two things?" asked Triffitt, cautiously. "Perhaps I've got
+'em in mind also."
+
+"The first's this," replied Carver. "Somebody--some taxi-cab driver or
+somebody of that sort--must have brought the man who personated old
+Jacob Herapath back to, or to the neighbourhood of, the office that
+morning. How is it that somebody hasn't been discovered? You made a
+point of asking for him in the _Argus_. Do you know what I think? I
+think he has been discovered, and he's being kept out of the way. That's
+point one."
+
+"Good!" muttered Triffitt. "And point two?"
+
+"Point two is--where is the man who came out of the House of Commons
+with Jacob Herapath that night, the man that the coachman Mountain
+described? In my opinion," asserted Carver, "I believe that man's been
+found, too, and he's being kept back."
+
+"Good again!" said Triffitt. "It's likely. Well, I've a point. You
+heard the evidence about old Herapath's keys? Yes--well, where's the key
+of that safe that he rented at the Safe Deposit place. That young
+secretary, Selwood, swore that it was on the little bunch the day of the
+murder, that he saw it at three o'clock in the afternoon. What did Jacob
+Herapath do with it between then and the time of the murder?"
+
+"Yes--that's a great point," asserted Carver. "We may hear something of
+that this afternoon--perhaps of all these points."
+
+But when they went back to the densely crowded court it was only to find
+that they--and an expectant public--were going to hear nothing more for
+that time. As soon as the court re-assembled, there was some putting
+together of heads on the part of the legal gentlemen and the Coroner;
+there were whisperings and consultations and noddings and veiled hints,
+palpable enough to everybody with half an eye; then the Coroner
+announced that no further evidence would be taken that day, and
+adjourned the inquest for a fortnight. Such of the public as had
+contrived to squeeze into the court went out murmuring, and Triffitt and
+Carver went out too and exchanged meaning glances.
+
+"Just what I expected!" said Carver. "I reckon the police are at the
+bottom of all that. A fortnight today we'll be hearing something
+good--something sensational."
+
+"I don't want to wait until a fortnight today," growled Triffitt. "I
+want some good, hot stuff--now!"
+
+"Then you'll have to find it for yourself, very soon," remarked Carver.
+"Take my tip--you'll get nothing from the police."
+
+Triffitt was well aware of that. He had talked to two or three police
+officials and detectives that morning, and had found them singularly
+elusive and uncommunicative. One of them was the police-inspector who
+had been called to the Herapath Estate Office on the discovery of the
+murder; another was the detective who had accompanied him. Since the
+murder Triffitt had kept in touch with these two, and had found them
+affable and ready to talk; now, however, they had suddenly curled up
+into a dry taciturnity, and there was nothing to be got out of them.
+
+"Tell you what it is," he said suddenly. "We'll have to go for the
+police!"
+
+"How go for the police?" asked Carver doubtfully.
+
+"Throw out some careful hints that the police know more than they'll
+tell at present," answered Triffitt, importantly. "That's what I shall
+do, anyhow--I've got _carte blanche_ on our rag, and I'll make the
+public ear itch and twitch by breakfast-time tomorrow morning! And after
+that, my boy, you and I'll put our heads together, as you suggest, and
+see if we can't do a bit of detective work of our own. See you tomorrow
+at the usual in Fleet Street."
+
+Then Triffitt went along to the _Argus_ office, and spent the rest of
+the afternoon in writing up a breezy and brilliant column about the
+scene at the inquest, intended to preface the ordinary detailed report.
+He wound it up with an artfully concocted paragraph in which he threw
+out many thinly veiled hints and innuendoes to the effect that the
+police were in possession of strange and sensational information and
+that ere long such a dramatic turn would be given to this Herapath
+Mystery that the whole town would seethe with excitement. He preened his
+feathers gaily over this accomplishment, and woke earlier than usual
+next morning on purpose to go out before breakfast and buy the _Argus_.
+But when he opened that enterprising journal he found that his column
+had been woefully cut down, and that the paragraph over which he had so
+exercised his brains was omitted altogether. Triffitt had small appetite
+for breakfast that morning, and he went early to the office and made
+haste to put himself in the way of the news editor, who grinned at sight
+of him.
+
+"Look here, Master Triffitt," said the news editor, "there's such a
+thing as being too smart--and too previous. I was a bit doubtful about
+your prognostications last night, and I rang up the C.I.D. about 'em.
+Don't do it again, my son!--you mean well, but the police know their job
+better than you do. If they want to keep quiet for a while in this
+matter, they've good reasons for it. So--no more hints. See?"
+
+"So they do know something?" muttered Triffitt sourly. "Then I was
+right, after all!"
+
+"You'll be wrong, after all, if you stick your nose where it isn't
+wanted," said the news editor. "Just chuck the inspired prophet game for a
+while, will you? Keep to mere facts; you'll be alarming the wrong people,
+if you don't. Off you go now! and do old Herapath's funeral--it's at noon,
+at Kensal Green. There'll be some of his fellow M.P.'s there, and so on.
+Get their names--make a nice, respectable thing of it on conventional
+lines. And no fireworks! This thing's to lie low at present."
+
+Triffitt went off to Kensal Green, scowling and cogitating. Of course
+the police knew something! But--what? What they knew would doubtless
+come out in time, but Triffitt had a strong desire to be beforehand with
+them. In spite of the douche of cold water which the news editor had
+just administered, Triffitt knew his _Argus_. If he could fathom the
+Herapath Mystery in such a fashion as to make a real great, smashing,
+all-absorbing feature of a sensational discovery, the _Argus_ would
+throw police precaution and official entreaties to the first wind that
+swept down Fleet Street. No!--he, Triffitt, was not to be balked. He
+would do his duty--he would go and see Jacob Herapath buried, but he
+would also continue his attempt to find out how it was that that burial
+came to be. And as he turned into the cemetery and stared at its weird
+collection of Christian and pagan monuments he breathed a fervent prayer
+to the Goddesses of Chance and Fortune to give him what he called
+"another look-in."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+THE SCOTTISH VERDICT
+
+
+If Triffitt had only known it, the Goddesses of Chance and Fortune were
+already close at hand, hovering lovingly and benignly above the crown of
+his own Trilby hat. Triffitt, of course, did not see them, nor dream
+that they were near; he was too busily occupied in taking stock of the
+black-garmented men who paid the last tribute of respect (a conventional
+phrase which he felt obliged to use) to Jacob Herapath. These men were
+many in number; some of them were known to Triffitt, some were not. He
+knew Mr. Fox-Crawford, an Under-Secretary of State, who represented the
+Government; he knew Mr. Dayweather and Mr. Encilmore, and Mr. Camford
+and Mr. Wallburn; they were all well-known members of Parliament. Also,
+he knew Mr. Barthorpe Herapath, walking at the head of the procession of
+mourners. Very soon he had quite a lengthy list of names; some others,
+if necessary, he could get from Selwood, whom he recognized as the
+cortège passed him by. So for the time being he closed his note-book and
+drew back beneath the shade of a cypress-tree, respectfully watching. In
+the tail-end of the procession he knew nobody; it was made up, he
+guessed, of Jacob Herapath's numerous clerks from the estate offices,
+and----
+
+But suddenly Triffitt saw a face in that procession. The owner of that
+face was not looking at Triffitt; he was staring quietly ahead, with the
+blank, grave demeanour which people affect when they go to funerals. And
+it was as well that he was not looking at Triffitt, for Triffitt, seeing
+that face, literally started and even jumped a little, feeling as if the
+earth beneath him suddenly quaked.
+
+"Gad!" exclaimed Triffitt under his breath. "It is! It can't be! Gad,
+but I'm certain it is! Can't be mistaken--not likely I should ever
+forget him!"
+
+Then he took off the Trilby hat, which he had resumed after the coffin
+had passed, and he rubbed his head as men do when they are exceedingly
+bewildered or puzzled. After which he unobtrusively followed the
+procession, hovered about its fringes around the grave until the last
+rites were over, and eventually edged himself up to Selwood as the
+gathering was dispersing. He quietly touched Selwood's sleeve.
+
+"Mr. Selwood!" he whispered. "Just a word. I know a lot of these
+gentlemen--the M.P.'s and so on--but there are some I don't know. Will
+you oblige me, now?--I want to get a full list. Who are the two elderly
+gentlemen with Mr. Barthorpe Herapath--relatives, eh?"
+
+"No--old personal friends," answered Selwood, good-naturedly turning
+aside with the little reporter. "One is Mr. Tertius--Mr. J. C.
+Tertius--a very old friend of the late Mr. Herapath's; the other is Mr.
+Benjamin Halfpenny, the solicitor, also an old friend."
+
+"Oh, I know of his firm," said Triffitt, busily scribbling. "Halfpenny
+and Farthing, of course--odd combination, isn't it? And that burly
+gentleman behind them, now--who's he?"
+
+"That's Professor Cox-Raythwaite, the famous scientist," answered
+Selwood. "He's also an old friend. The gentleman he's speaking to is Sir
+Cornelius Debenham, chairman of the World Alliance Association, with
+which Mr. Herapath was connected, you know."
+
+"I know--I know," answered Triffitt, still busy. "Those two behind him,
+now--middle-aged parties?"
+
+"One's Mr. Frankton, the manager, and the other's Mr. Charlwood, the
+cashier, at the estate office," replied Selwood.
+
+"They'll go down in staff and employees," said Triffitt. "Um--I've got a
+good list. By the by, who's the gentleman across there--just going up to
+the grave--the gentleman who looks like an actor? Is he an actor?"
+
+"That? Oh!" answered Selwood. "No--that's Mr. Frank Burchill, who used
+to be Mr. Herapath's secretary--my predecessor."
+
+"Oh!" responded Triffitt. He had caught sight of Carver a few yards off,
+and he hurried his notebook into his pocket, and bustled off. "Much
+obliged to you, Mr. Selwood," he said with a grin. "Even we with all our
+experience, don't know everybody, you know--many thanks." He hastened
+over to Carver who was also busy pencilling, and drew him away into the
+shelter of a particularly large and ugly monument. "I say!" he
+whispered. "Here's something! Shove that book away now--I've got all the
+names--and attend to me a minute. Don't look too obtrusively--but do you
+see that chap--looks like an actor--who is just coming away from the
+graveside--tall, well-dressed chap?"
+
+Carver looked across. His face lighted up.
+
+"I know that man," he said. "I've seen him at the club--he's been in
+once or twice, though he's not a member. He does theatre stuff for the
+_Magnet_. His name's Burchill."
+
+Triffitt dropped his friend's arm.
+
+"Oh!" he said. "So you know him--by sight, anyhow? And his name's
+Burchill, eh? Very good. Let's get."
+
+He walked Carver out of the cemetery, down the Harrow Road, and turned
+into the saloon bar of the first tavern that presented itself.
+
+"I'm going to have some ale and some bread and cheese," he observed, "and
+if you'll follow suit, Carver, we'll sit in that corner, and I'll tell
+you something that'll make your hair curl. Two nice plates of bread and
+cheese, and two large tankards of your best bitter ale, if you please,"
+he continued, approaching the bar and ringing a half-crown on it. "Yes,
+Carver, my son--that will curl your hair for you. And," he went on, when
+they had carried their simple provender over to a quiet corner, "about
+that chap now known as Burchill--Burchill. Mr.--Frank--Burchill; late
+secretary to the respected gentleman whose mortal remains have just been
+laid to rest. Ah!"
+
+"What's the mystery?" asked Carver, setting down his tankard. "Seems to be
+one, anyway. What about Burchill?"
+
+"Speak his name softly," answered Triffitt. "Well, my son, I suddenly
+saw--him--this morning, and I just as suddenly remembered that I'd seen
+him before!"
+
+"You had, eh?" said Carver. "Where?"
+
+Triffitt sank his voice to a still lower whisper.
+
+"Where?" he said. "Where? In the dock!"
+
+Carver arrested the progress of a lump of bread and cheese and turned in
+astonishment.
+
+"In the dock?" he exclaimed. "That chap? Good heavens! When--where?"
+
+"It's a longish story," answered Triffitt. "But you've got to hear it if
+we're going into this thing--as we are. Know, then, that I have an
+aunt--Eliza. My aunt--maternal aunt--Eliza is married to a highly
+respectable Scotsman named Kierley, who runs a flour-mill in the ancient
+town of Jedburgh, which is in the county of Roxburgh, just over the
+Border. And it's just about nine years (I can tell the exact date to a
+day if I look at an old diary) that Mr. and Mrs. Kierley were good
+enough to invite me to spend a few weeks in Bonnie Scotland. And the
+first night of my arrival Kierley told me that I was in luck, for
+within a day or two there was going to be a grand trial before the
+Lords Justiciar--Anglicé, judges. A trial of a man for murder!"
+
+"Great Scott!" said Carver. "Murder, eh? And"--he nodded his head in the
+direction of the adjacent cemetery. "Him?"
+
+"Let me explain a few legal matters," said Triffitt, disregarding the
+question. "Then you'll get the proper hang of things. In Scotland, law's
+different in procedure to ours. The High Court of Justiciary is fixed
+permanently at Edinburgh, but its judges go on circuit so many times a
+year to some of the principal towns, where they hold something like our
+own assizes. Usually, only one judge sits, but in cases of special
+importance there are two, and two came to Jedburgh, this being a case of
+very special importance, and one that was arousing a mighty amount of
+interest. It was locally known as the Kelpies' Glen Case, and by that
+name it got into all the papers--we could find it, of course, in our own
+files."
+
+"I'll turn it up," observed Carver.
+
+"By all means," agreed Triffitt; "but I'll give you an outline of it
+just now. Briefly, it was this. About eleven years ago, there was near
+the town of Jedburgh a man named Ferguson, who kept an old-established
+school for boys. He was an oldish chap, married to a woman a good deal
+younger than himself, and she had a bit of a reputation for being
+overfond of the wine of the country. According to what the Kierleys told
+me, old Ferguson used to use the tawse on her sometimes, and they led a
+sort of cat-and-dog life. Well, about the time I'm talking about,
+Ferguson got a new undermaster; he only kept one. This chap was an
+Englishman--name of Bentham--Francis Bentham, to give him his full
+patronymic, but I don't know where he came from--I don't think anybody
+did."
+
+"F. B., eh?" muttered Carver. "Same initials as----"
+
+"Precisely," said Triffitt, "and--to anticipate--same man. But to
+proceed in due order. Old Ferguson died rather suddenly--but in quite an
+above-board and natural fashion, about six months after this Bentham
+came to him. The widow kept on the school, and retained Bentham's
+services. And within half a year of the demise of her first husband, she
+took Bentham for her second."
+
+"Quick work!" remarked Carver.
+
+"And productive of much wagging of tongues, you may bet!" said Triffitt.
+"Many things were said--not all of them charitable. Well, this marriage
+didn't mend the lady's manners. She still continued, now and then, to
+take her drops in too generous measure. Rumour had it that the successor
+to Ferguson followed his predecessor's example and corrected his wife in
+the good, old-fashioned way. It was said that the old cat-and-dog life
+was started again by these two. However, before they'd been married a
+year, the lady ended that episode by quitting life for good. She was
+found one night lying at the foot of the cliff in the Kelpies'
+Glen--with a broken neck."
+
+"Ah!" said Carver. "I begin to see."
+
+"Now, that Kelpies' Glen," continued Triffitt, "was a sort of ravine
+which lay between the town of Jedburgh and the school. It was traversed
+by a rough path which lay along the top of one side of it, amongst trees
+and crags. At one point, this path was on the very edge of a precipitous
+cliff; from that edge there was a sheer drop of some seventy or eighty
+feet to a bed of rocks down below, on the edge of a brawling stream. It
+was on these rocks that Mrs. Bentham's body was found. She was dead
+enough when she was discovered, and the theory was that she had come
+along the path above in a drunken condition, had fallen over the low
+railings which fenced it in, and so had come to her death."
+
+"Precisely," assented Carver, nodding his head with wise appreciation.
+"Her alcoholic tendencies were certainly useful factors in the case."
+
+"Just so--you take my meaning," agreed Triffitt. "Well, at first nobody
+saw any reason to doubt this theory, for the lady had been seen
+staggering along that path more than once. But she had a brother, a
+canny Scot who was not over well pleased when he found that his
+sister--who had come into everything that old Ferguson left, which was a
+comfortable bit--had made a will not very long before her death in which
+she left absolutely everything to her new husband, Francis Bentham. The
+brother began to inquire and to investigate--and to cut the story short,
+within a fortnight of his wife's death, Bentham was arrested and charged
+with her murder."
+
+"On what evidence?" asked Carver.
+
+"Precious little!" answered Triffitt. "Indeed next to none. Still,
+there was some. It was proved that he was absent from the house for half
+an hour or so about the time that she would be coming along that path;
+it was also proved that certain footprints in the clay of the path were
+his. He contended that he had been to look for her; he proved that he
+had often been to look for her in that way; moreover, as to the
+footprints, he, like everybody in the house, constantly used that path
+in going to the town."
+
+"Aye, to be sure," said Carver. "He'd a good case, I'm thinking."
+
+"He had--and so I thought at the time," continued Triffitt. "And so a
+good many folks thought--and they, and I, also thought something else, I
+can tell you. I know what the verdict of the crowded court would have
+been!"
+
+"What?" asked Carver.
+
+"Guilty!" exclaimed Triffitt. "And so far as I'm concerned, I haven't a
+doubt that the fellow pushed her over the cliff. But opinion's neither
+here nor there. The only thing that mattered, my son, was the jury's
+verdict!"
+
+"And the jury's verdict was--what?" demanded Carver.
+
+Triffitt winked into his empty tankard and set it down with a bang.
+
+"The jury's verdict, my boy," he answered, "was one that you can only
+get across the Border. It was '_Not Proven_'!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+YOUNG BRAINS
+
+
+Carver, who had been listening intently to the memory of a bygone event,
+pushed away the remains of his frugal lunch, and shook his head as he
+drew out a cigarette-case.
+
+"By gad, Triff, old man!" he said. "If I'd been that chap I'd rather
+have been hanged, I think. Not proven, eh?--whew! That meant----"
+
+"Pretty much what the folk in court and the mob outside thought,"
+asserted Triffitt. "That scene outside, after the trial, is one of my
+liveliest recollections. There was a big crowd there--chiefly women.
+When they heard the verdict there was such yelling and hooting as you
+never heard in your life! You see, they were all certain about the
+fellow's guilt, and they wanted him to swing. If they could have got at
+him, they'd have lynched him. And do you know, he actually had the cheek
+to leave the court by the front entrance, and show himself to that
+crowd! Then there was a lively scene--stones and brickbats and the mud
+of the street began flying. Then the police waded in--and they gave Mr.
+Francis Bentham pretty clearly to understand that there must be no going
+home for him, or the folks would pull his roof over his head. And they
+forced him back into the court, and got him away out of the town on the
+quiet--and I reckon he's never shown his face in that quarter of the
+globe since."
+
+"That will?" asked Carver. "Did it stand good--did he get the woman's
+money?"
+
+"He did. My aunt told me afterwards that he employed some local
+solicitor chap--writers, as they call 'em there--to wind everything up,
+convert everything into cash, for him. Oh, yes!" concluded Triffitt. "He
+got the estate, right enough. Not an awful lot, you know--a thousand or
+two--perhaps three--but enough to go adventuring with elsewhere."
+
+"You're sure this is the man?" asked Carver.
+
+"As certain as that I'm myself!" answered Triffitt. "Couldn't mistake
+him--even if it is nine years ago. It's true I was only a nipper
+then--sixteen or so--but I'd all my wits about me, and I was so taken
+with him in the dock, and with his theatrical bearing there--he's a fine
+hand at posing--that I couldn't forget or mistake him. Oh, he's the man!
+I've often wondered what had become of him."
+
+"And now you find out that he's up till recently been secretary to Jacob
+Herapath, M.P., and is just now doing dramatic criticism for the
+_Magnet_," observed Carver. "Well, Triffitt, what do you make of it?"
+
+Triffitt, who had filled and lighted an old briarwood pipe, puffed
+solemnly and thoughtfully for a while.
+
+"Well," he said, "nobody can deny that there's a deep mystery about
+Jacob Herapath's death. And knowing what I do about this Bentham or
+Burchill, and that he's recently been secretary to Jacob Herapath, I'd
+just like to know a lot more. And--I mean to!"
+
+"Got any plan of campaign?" asked Carver.
+
+"I have!" affirmed Triffitt with sublime confidence. "And it's this--I'm
+going to dog this thing out until I can go to our boss and tell him that
+I can force the hands of the police! For the police are keeping
+something dark, my son, and I mean to find out what it is. I got a
+quencher this morning from our news editor, but it'll be the last. When
+I go back to the office to write out this stuff, I'm going to have that
+extremely rare thing with any of our lot--an interview with the old
+man."
+
+"Gad!--I thought your old man was unapproachable!" exclaimed Carver.
+
+"To all intents and purposes, he is," assented Triffitt. "But I'll see
+him--and today. And after that--but you'll see. Now, as to you, old man.
+You're coming in with me at this, of course--not on behalf of your
+paper, but on your own. Work up with me, and if we're successful, I'll
+promise you a post on the _Argus_ that'll be worth three times what
+you're getting now. I know what I'm talking about--unapproachable as our
+guv'nor is, I've sized him up, and if I make good in this affair, he'll
+do anything I want. Stick to Triffitt, my son, and Triffitt'll see you
+all serene!"
+
+"Right-oh!" said Carver. "I'm on. Well, and what am I to do, first?"
+
+"Two things," responded Triffitt. "One of 'em's easy, and can be done
+at once. Get me--diplomatically--this man Burchill's, or Bentham's,
+present address. You know some _Magnet_ chaps--get it out of them. Tell
+'em you want to ask Burchill's advice about some dramatic stuff--say
+you've written a play and you're so impressed by his criticisms that
+you'd like to take his counsel."
+
+"I can do that," replied Carver. "As a matter of fact, I've got a real
+good farce in my desk. And the next?"
+
+"The next is--try to find out if there's any taxi-cab driver around the
+Portman Square district who took a fare resembling old Herapath from
+anywhere about there to Kensington on the night of the murder," said
+Triffitt. "There must be some chap who drove that man, and if we've got
+any brains about us we can find him. If we find him, and can get him to
+talk--well, we shall know something."
+
+"It'll mean money," observed Carver.
+
+"Never mind," said Triffitt, confident as ever. "If it comes off all
+right with our boss, you needn't bother about money, my son! Now let's
+be going Fleet Street way, and I'll meet you tonight at the usual--say
+six o'clock."
+
+Arrived at the _Argus_ office and duly seated at his own particular
+table, Triffitt, instead of proceeding to write out his report of the
+funeral ceremony of the late Jacob Herapath, M.P., wrote a note to his
+proprietor, which note he carefully sealed and marked "Private." He
+carried this off to the great man's confidential secretary, who stared
+at it and him.
+
+"I suppose this really is of a private nature?" he asked suspiciously.
+"You know as well as I do that Mr. Markledew'll make me suffer if it
+isn't."
+
+"Soul and honour, it's of the most private!" affirmed Triffitt, laying a
+hand on his heart. "And of the highest importance, too, and I'll be
+eternally grateful if you'll put it before him as soon as you can."
+
+The confidential secretary took another look at Triffitt, and allowed
+himself to be reluctantly convinced of his earnestness.
+
+"All right!" he said. "I'll shove it under his nose when he comes in at
+four o'clock."
+
+Triffitt went back to his work, excited, yet elated. It was no easy job to
+get speech of Markledew. Markledew, as everybody in Fleet Street knew, was
+a man in ten thousand. He was not only sole proprietor of his paper, but
+its editor and manager, and he ruled his office and his employees with a
+rod of iron--chiefly by silence. It was usually said of him that he never
+spoke to anybody unless he was absolutely obliged to do so--certain it was
+that all his orders to the various heads were given out pretty much after
+the fashion of a drill sergeant's commands to a squad of well-trained,
+five-month recruits, and that monosyllables were much more in his mouth
+than even brief admonitions and explanations. If anybody ever did manage
+to approach Markledew, it was always with fear and trembling. A big,
+heavy, lumbering man, with a face that might have been carved out of
+granite, eyes that bored through an opposing brain, and a constant
+expression of absolute, yet watchful immobility, he was a trying person to
+tackle, and most men, when they did tackle him, felt as if they might be
+talking to the Sphinx and wondered if the tightly-locked lips were ever
+going to open. But all men who ever had anything to do with Markledew were
+well aware that, difficult as he was of access, you had only got to
+approach him with something good to be rewarded for your pains in full
+measure.
+
+At ten minutes past four Triffitt, who had just finished his work, lifted
+his head to see a messenger-boy fling open the door of the reporter's room
+and cast his eyes round. A shiver shot through Triffitt's spine and went
+out of his toes with a final sting.
+
+"Mr. Markledew wants Mr. Triffitt!"
+
+Two or three other junior reporters who were scribbling in the room
+glanced at Triffitt as he leapt to obey the summons. They hastened to
+make kindly comments on this unheard-of episode in the day's dull
+routine.
+
+"Pale as a fair young bride!" sighed one. "Buck up, Triff!--he won't eat
+you."
+
+"I hear your knees knocking together, Triff," said another. "Brace
+yourself!"
+
+"Markledew," observed a third, "has decided to lay down the sceptre and
+to instal Triff in the chair of rule. Ave, Triffitt, Imperator!--be
+merciful to the rest of us."
+
+Triffitt consigned them to the nether regions and hurried to the
+presence. The presence was busied with its secretary and kept Triffitt
+standing for two minutes, during which space he recovered his breath.
+Then the presence waved away secretary and papers with one hand, turned
+its awful eyes upon him, and rapped out one word:
+
+"Now!"
+
+Triffitt breathed a fervent prayer to all his gods, summoned his
+resolution and his powers, and spoke. He endeavoured to use as few words
+as possible, to be lucid, to make his points, to show what he was
+after--and, driving fear away from him, he kept his own eyes steadily
+fixed on those penetrating organs which confronted him. And once, twice,
+he saw or thought he saw a light gleam of appreciation in those organs;
+once, he believed, the big head nodded as if in agreement. Anyhow, at
+the end of a quarter of an hour (unheard-of length for an interview with
+Markledew!) Triffitt had neither been turned out nor summarily silenced;
+instead, he had come to what he felt to be a good ending of his pleas
+and his arguments, and the great man was showing signs of speech.
+
+"Now, attend!" said Markledew, impressively. "You'll go on with this.
+You'll follow it up on the lines you suggest. But you'll print nothing
+except under my personal supervision. Make certain of your facts.
+Facts!--understand! Wait."
+
+He pulled a couple of slips of paper towards him, scribbled a line or
+two on each, handed them to Triffitt, and nodded at the door.
+
+"That'll do," he said. "When you want me, let me know. And mind--you've
+got a fine chance, young man."
+
+Triffitt could have fallen on the carpet and kissed Markledew's large
+boots. But knowing Markledew, he expressed his gratitude in two words
+and a bow, and sped out of the room. Once outside, he hastened to send
+the all-powerful notes. They were short and sharp, like Markledew's
+manner, but to Triffitt of an inexpressible sweetness, and he walked on
+air as he went off to other regions to present them.
+
+The news editor, who was by nature irascible and whom much daily worry
+had rendered more so, glared angrily as Triffitt marched up to his
+table. He pointed to a slip of proof which lay, damp and sticky, close
+by.
+
+"You've given too much space to that Herapath funeral," he growled.
+"Take it away and cut it down to three-quarters."
+
+Triffitt made no verbal answer. He flung Markledew's half-sheet of
+notepaper before the news editor, and the news editor, seeing the great
+man's sprawling caligraphy, read, wonderingly:--
+
+ "Mr. Triffitt is released from ordinary duties to
+ pursue others under my personal supervision.
+ J. M."
+
+The news editor stared at Triffitt as if that young gentleman had
+suddenly become an archangel.
+
+"What's this mean?" he demanded.
+
+"Obvious--and sufficient," retorted Triffitt. And he turned, hands in
+pockets, and strolled out, leaving the proof lying unheeded. That was
+the first time he had scored off his news editor, and the experience was
+honey-like and intoxicating. His head was higher than ever as he sought
+the cashier and handed Markledew's other note to him. The cashier read
+it over mechanically.
+
+ "Mr. Triffitt is to draw what money he needs for a
+ special purpose. He will account to me for it.
+ J. M."
+
+The cashier calmly laid the order aside and looked at its deliverer.
+
+"Want any now?" he asked apathetically. "How much?"
+
+"Not at present," replied Triffitt. "I'll let you know when I do."
+
+Then he went away, got his overcoat, made a derisive and sphinx-like
+grin at his fellow-reporters, and left the office to find Carver.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+NAMELESS FEAR
+
+
+If Triffitt had stayed in Kensal Green Cemetery a little longer, he
+would have observed that Mr. Frank Burchill's presence at the funeral
+obsequies of the late Jacob Herapath was of an eminently modest,
+unassuming, and retiring character. He might, as an ex-secretary of the
+dead man, have claimed to walk abreast of Mr. Selwood, and ahead of the
+manager and cashier from the estate office; instead, he had taken a
+place in the rear ranks of the procession, and in it he remained until
+the close of the ceremony. Like the rest of those present, he defiled
+past the grave at which the chief mourners were standing, but he claimed
+no recognition from and gave no apparent heed to any of them; certainly
+none to Barthorpe Herapath. Also, like all the rest, he went away at
+once from the cemetery, and after him, quietly and unobtrusively, went a
+certain sharp-eyed person who had also been present, not as a mourner,
+but in the character of a casual stroller about the tombs and monuments,
+attracted for the moment by the imposing cortège which had followed the
+dead man to his grave.
+
+Another sharp-eyed person made it his business to follow Barthorpe
+Herapath when he, too, went away. Barthorpe had come to the ceremony
+unattended. Selwood, Mr. Tertius, Professor Cox-Raythwaite, and Mr.
+Halfpenny had come together. These four also went away together.
+Barthorpe, still alone, re-entered his carriage when they had driven
+off. The observant person of the sharp eyes, hanging around the gates,
+heard him give his order:
+
+"Portman Square!"
+
+The four men who had preceded him were standing in the study when
+Barthorpe drove up to the house--standing around Peggie, who was
+obviously ill at ease and distressed. And when Barthorpe's voice was
+heard in the hall, Mr. Halfpenny spoke in decisive tones.
+
+"We must understand matters at once," he said. "There is no use in
+beating about the bush. He has refused to meet or receive me so far--now
+I shall insist upon his saying plainly whatever he has to say. You, too,
+my dear, painful as it may be, must also insist."
+
+"On--what?" asked Peggie.
+
+"On his saying what he intends--if he intends--I don't know what he
+intends!" answered Mr. Halfpenny, testily. "It's most annoying, and we
+can't----"
+
+Barthorpe came striding in, paused as he glanced around, and affected
+surprise.
+
+"Oh!" he said. "I came to see you, Peggie--I did not know that there was
+any meeting in progress."
+
+"Barthorpe!" said Peggie, looking earnestly at him. "You know that all
+these gentlemen were Uncle Jacob's friends--dear friends--and they are
+mine. Don't go away--Mr. Halfpenny wants to speak to you."
+
+Barthorpe had already half turned to the door. He turned back--then
+turned again.
+
+"Mr. Halfpenny can only want to speak to me on business," he said,
+coldly. "If Mr. Halfpenny wants to speak to me on business, he knows
+where to find me."
+
+He had already laid a hand on the door when Mr. Halfpenny spoke sharply
+and sternly.
+
+"Mr. Barthorpe Herapath!" he said. "I know very well where to find you,
+and I have tried to find you and to get speech with you for two days--in
+vain. I insist, sir, that you speak to us--or at any rate to your
+cousin--you are bound to speak, sir, out of common decency!"
+
+"About what?" asked Barthorpe. "I came to speak to my cousin--in
+private."
+
+"There is a certain something, sir," retorted Mr. Halfpenny, with
+warmth, "about which we must speak in public--such a public, at any
+rate, as is represented here and now. You know what it is--your uncle's
+will!"
+
+"What about my uncle's will--or alleged will?" asked Barthorpe with a
+sneer.
+
+Mr. Halfpenny appeared to be about to make a very angry retort, but he
+suddenly checked himself and looked at Peggie.
+
+"You hear, my dear?" he said. "He says--alleged will!"
+
+Peggie turned to Barthorpe with an appealing glance.
+
+"Barthorpe!" she exclaimed. "Is that fair--is it generous? Is it
+just--to our uncle's memory? You know that is his will--what doubt can
+there be about it?"
+
+Barthorpe made no answer. He still stood with one hand on the door,
+looking at Mr. Halfpenny. And suddenly he spoke.
+
+"What do you wish to ask me?" he said.
+
+"I wish to ask you a plain question," replied Mr. Halfpenny. "Do you
+accept this will, and are you going to act on your cousin's behalf? I
+want your plain answer."
+
+Barthorpe hesitated a moment before replying. Then he made as if to open
+the door.
+
+"I decline to discuss the matter of the alleged will," he answered. "I
+decline--especially," he continued, lifting a finger and pointing at Mr.
+Tertius, "especially in the presence of that man!"
+
+"Barthorpe!" exclaimed Peggie, flushing at the malevolence of the tone
+and gesture. "How dare you! In my house----"
+
+Barthorpe suddenly laughed. Once again he turned to the door--and this
+time he opened it.
+
+"Just so--just so!" he said. "Your house, my dear cousin--according to
+the alleged will."
+
+"Which will be proved, sir," snapped out Mr. Halfpenny. "As you refuse,
+or seem to do so, I shall act for your cousin--at once."
+
+Barthorpe opened the door wide, and as he crossed the threshold, turned
+and gave Mr. Halfpenny a swift glance.
+
+"Act!" he said. "Act!--if you can!"
+
+Then he walked out and shut the door behind him, and Mr. Halfpenny
+turned to the others.
+
+"The will must be proved at once," he said decisively. "Alleged--you all
+heard him say alleged! That looks as if--um! My dear Tertius, you have
+no doubt whatever about the proper and valid execution of this important
+document--now in my safe. None?"
+
+"How can I have any doubt about what I actually saw?" replied Mr.
+Tertius. "I can't have any doubt, Halfpenny! I saw Jacob sign it; I
+signed it myself; I saw young Burchill sign it; we all three saw each
+other sign. What more can one want?"
+
+"I must see this Mr. Burchill," remarked Mr. Halfpenny. "I must see him
+at once. Unfortunately, he left no address at the place we called at. He
+will have to be discovered."
+
+Peggie coloured slightly as she turned to Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"Is it really necessary to see Mr. Burchill personally?" she asked with
+a palpable nervousness which struck Selwood strangely. "Must he be
+found?"
+
+"Absolutely necessary, my dear," replied Mr. Halfpenny. "He must be
+found, and at once."
+
+Mr. Tertius uttered an exclamation of annoyance.
+
+"Dear, dear!" he said. "I noticed the young man at the cemetery just
+now--I ought really to have pointed him out to you--most forgetful of
+me!"
+
+"I have Mr. Burchill's address," said Peggie, with an effort. "He left
+his card here on the day of my uncle's death--the address is on it. And
+I put it in this drawer."
+
+Selwood watched Peggie curiously, and with a strange, vague sense of
+uneasiness as she went over to a drawer in Jacob Herapath's desk and
+produced the card. He had noticed a slight tremor in her voice when she
+spoke of Burchill, and her face, up till then very pale, had coloured at
+the first mention of his name. And now he was asking himself why any
+reference to this man seemed to disturb her, why----
+
+But Mr. Halfpenny cut in on his meditations. The old lawyer held up the
+card to the light and slowly read out the address.
+
+"Ah! Calengrove Mansions, Maida Vale," he said. "Um--quarter of an
+hour's drive. Tertius--you and I will go and see this young fellow at
+once."
+
+Mr. Tertius turned to Professor Cox-Raythwaite.
+
+"What do you think of this, Cox-Raythwaite?" he asked, almost piteously.
+"I mean--what do you think's best to be done?"
+
+The Professor, who had stood apart with Selwood during the episode which
+had just concluded, pulling his great beard and looking very big and
+black and formidable, jerked his thumb in the direction of the old
+lawyer.
+
+"Do what Halfpenny says," he growled. "See this other witness. And--but
+here, I'll have a word with you in the hall."
+
+He said good-bye in a gruffly affectionate way to Peggie, patted her
+shoulder and her head as if she were a child, and followed the two other
+men out. Peggie, left alone with Selwood, turned to him. There was
+something half-appealing in her face, and Selwood suddenly drove his
+hands deep into his pockets, clenched them there, and put a tight hold
+on himself.
+
+"It's all different!" exclaimed Peggie, dropping into a chair and
+clasping her hands on her knees. "All so different! And I feel so
+utterly helpless."
+
+"Scarcely that," said Selwood, with an effort to speak calmly. "You've
+got Mr. Tertius, and Mr. Halfpenny, and the Professor, and--and if
+there's anything--anything I can do, don't you know, why, I----"
+
+Peggie impulsively stretched out a hand--and Selwood, not trusting
+himself, affected not to see it. To take Peggie's hand at that moment
+would have been to let loose a flood of words which he was resolved not
+to utter just then, if ever. He moved across to the desk and pretended
+to sort and arrange some loose papers.
+
+"We'll--all--all--do everything we can," he said, trying to keep any
+tremor out of his voice. "Everything you know, of course."
+
+"I know--and I'm grateful," said Peggie. "But I'm frightened."
+
+Selwood turned quickly and looked sharply at her.
+
+"Frightened?" he exclaimed. "Of what?"
+
+"Of something that I can't account for or realize," she replied. "I've a
+feeling that everything's all wrong--and strange. And--I'm frightened of
+Mr. Burchill."
+
+"What!" snapped Selwood. He dropped the papers and turned to face her
+squarely. "Frightened of--Burchill? Why?"
+
+"I--don't--know," she answered, shaking her head. "It's more an
+idea--something vague. I was always afraid of him when he was here--I've
+been afraid of him ever since. I was very much afraid when he came here
+the other day."
+
+"You saw him?" asked Selwood.
+
+"I didn't see him. He merely sent up that card. But," she added, "I was
+afraid even then."
+
+Selwood leaned back against the desk, regarding her attentively.
+
+"I don't think you're the sort to be afraid without reason," he said.
+"Of course, if you have reason, I've no right to ask what it is. All the
+same, if this chap is likely to annoy you, you've only to speak
+and--and----"
+
+"Yes?" she said, smiling a little. "You'd----"
+
+"I'll punch his head and break his neck for him!" growled Selwood.
+"And--and I wish you'd say if you have reasons why I should. Has--has he
+annoyed you?"
+
+"No," answered Peggie. She regarded Selwood steadily for a minute; then
+she spoke with sudden impulse. "When he was here," she said, "I mean
+before he left my uncle, he asked me to marry him."
+
+Selwood, in spite of himself, could not keep a hot flush from mounting
+to his cheek.
+
+"And--you?" he said.
+
+"I said no, of course, and he took my answer and went quietly away,"
+replied Peggie. "And that--that's why I'm frightened of him."
+
+"Good heavens! Why?" demanded Selwood. "I don't understand. Frightened
+of him because he took his answer, went away quietly, and hasn't annoyed
+you since? That--I say, that licks me!"
+
+"Perhaps," she said. "But, you see, you don't know him. It's just
+because of that--that quiet--that--oh, I don't quite know how to
+explain!--that--well, silence--that I'm afraid--yes, literally afraid.
+There's something about him that makes me fear. I used to wish that my
+uncle had never employed him--that he had never come here. And--I'd
+rather be penniless than that my uncle had ever got him--him!--to
+witness that will!"
+
+Selwood found no words wherewith to answer this. He did not understand
+it. Nevertheless he presently found words of another sort.
+
+"All right!" he muttered doggedly. "I'll watch him--or, I'll watch that
+he--that--well, that no harm comes to--you know what I mean, don't you?"
+
+"Yes," murmured Peggie, and once more held out an impulsive hand. But
+Selwood again pretended to see nothing, and he began another energetic
+assault upon the papers which Jacob Herapath would never handle again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+THE LAW
+
+
+Once within a taxi-cab and on their way to Maida Vale, Mr. Halfpenny
+turned to his companion with a shake of the head which implied a much
+mixed state of feeling.
+
+"Tertius!" he exclaimed. "There's something wrong! Quite apart from what
+we know, and from what we were able to communicate to the police,
+there's something wrong. I feel it--it's in the air, the--the whole
+atmosphere. That fellow Barthorpe is up to some game. What? Did you
+notice his manner, his attitude--everything? Of course!--who could help
+it? He--has some scheme in his head. Again I say--what?"
+
+Mr. Tertius stirred uneasily in his seat and shook his head.
+
+"You haven't heard anything from New Scotland Yard?" he asked.
+
+"Nothing--so far. But they are at work, of course. They'll work in their
+own way. And," continued Mr. Halfpenny, with a grim chuckle, "you can be
+certain of this much, Tertius--having heard what we were able to tell
+them, having seen what we were able to put before them, with respect to
+the doings of that eventful night, they won't let Master Barthorpe out
+of their ken--not they! It is best to let them pursue their own
+investigations in their own manner--they'll let us know what's been
+done, sure enough, at the right time."
+
+"Yes," assented Mr. Tertius. "Yes--so I gather--I am not very conversant
+with these things. I confess there's one thing that puzzles me greatly
+though, Halfpenny. That's the matter of the man who came out of the House
+of Commons with Jacob that night. You remember that the coachman,
+Mountain, told us--and said at the inquest also--that he overheard what
+Jacob said to that man--'The thing must be done at once, and you must have
+everything ready for me at noon tomorrow,' or words to that effect. Now
+that man must be somewhere at hand--he must have read the newspapers, know
+all about the inquest--why doesn't he come forward?"
+
+Mr. Halfpenny chuckled again and patted his friend's arm.
+
+"Ah!" he said. "But you don't know that he hasn't come forward! The
+probability is, Tertius, that he has come forward, and that the people at
+New Scotland Yard are already in possession of whatever story he had to
+tell. Oh, yes, I quite expect that--I also expect to hear, eventually,
+another piece of news in relation to that man."
+
+"What's that?" asked Mr. Tertius.
+
+"Do you remember that, at the inquest, Mountain, the coachman, said that
+there was another bit of evidence he had to give which he'd forgotten to
+tell Mr. Barthorpe when he questioned him? Mountain"--continued Mr.
+Halfpenny--"went on to say that while Jacob Herapath and the man stood
+talking in Palace Yard, before Jacob got into his brougham, Jacob took
+some object from his waistcoat pocket and handed it, with what looked
+like a letter, to the man? Eh?"
+
+"I remember very well," replied Mr. Tertius.
+
+"Very good," said Mr. Halfpenny. "Now I believe that object to have been
+the key of Jacob's safe at the Safe Deposit, which, you remember, could
+not be found, but which young Selwood affirmed had been in Jacob's
+possession only that afternoon. The letter I believe to have been a
+formal authority to the Safe Deposit people to allow the bearer to open
+that safe. I've thought all that out," concluded Mr. Halfpenny, with a
+smile of triumph, "thought it out carefully, and it's my impression that
+that's what we shall find when the police move. I believe that man has
+revealed himself to the police, has told them--whatever it is he has to
+tell, and that his story probably throws a vast flood of light on the
+mystery. So I say--let us not at present concern ourselves with the
+actual murder of our poor friend: the police will ferret that out! What
+we're concerned with is--the will! That will, Tertius, must be proved,
+and at once."
+
+"I am as little conversant with legal matters as with police procedure,"
+observed Mr. Tertius. "What is the exact course, now, in a case of this
+sort?"
+
+"The exact procedure, my dear sir," replied Mr. Halfpenny, dropping into
+his best legal manner, and putting the tips of his warmly-gloved
+fingers together in front of his well-filled overcoat, "the exact
+procedure is as follows. Barthorpe Herapath is without doubt the
+heir-at-law of his deceased uncle, Jacob Herapath. If Jacob had died
+intestate Barthorpe would have taken what we may call everything, for
+his uncle's property is practically all in the shape of real estate, in
+comparison to which the personalty is a mere nothing. But there is a
+will, leaving everything to Margaret Wynne. If Barthorpe Herapath
+intends to contest the legality of that will----"
+
+"Good heavens, is that possible?" exclaimed Mr. Tertius. "He can't!"
+
+"He can--if he wishes," replied Mr. Halfpenny, "though at present I don't
+know on what possible grounds. But, if he does, he can at once enter a
+caveat in the Probate Registry. The effect of that--supposing he does
+it--will be that when I take the will to be proved, progress will be
+stopped. Very well--I shall then, following the ordinary practice, issue
+and serve upon Barthorpe Herapath a document technically known as a
+'warning.' On service of this warning, Barthorpe, if he insists upon his
+opposition, must enter an appearance. There will then be an opportunity
+for debate and attempt at agreement between him and ourselves. If that
+fails, or does not take place, I shall then issue a writ to establish the
+will. And that being done, why, then, my dear sir, the proceedings--ah,
+the proceedings would follow--substantially--the--er--usual course of
+litigation in this country."
+
+"And that," asked Mr. Tertius, deeply interested and wholly innocent,
+"that would be----?"
+
+"Well, there are two parties in this case--supposed case," continued Mr.
+Halfpenny, "Barthorpe Herapath, Margaret Wynne. After the issue of the
+writ I have just spoken of, each party would put in his or her pleas,
+and the matter would ultimately go to trial in the Probate Division of
+the High Court, most likely before a judge and a special jury."
+
+"And how long would all this take?" asked Mr. Tertius.
+
+"Ah!--um!" replied Mr. Halfpenny, tapping the tips of his gloves
+together. "That, my dear sir, is a somewhat difficult question to
+answer. I believe that all readers of the newspapers are aware that our
+Law Courts are somewhat congested--the cause lists are very full. The
+time which must elapse before a case can actually come to trial varies,
+my dear Tertius, varies enormously. But if--as in the matter we are
+supposing would probably be the case--if all the parties concerned were
+particularly anxious to have the case disposed of without delay, the
+trial might be arrived at within three or four months--that is, my dear
+sir, if the Long Vacation did not intervene. But--speaking generally--a
+better, more usual, more probable estimate would be, say six, seven,
+eight, or nine months."
+
+"So long?" exclaimed Mr. Tertius. "I thought that justice was neither
+denied, sold, nor delayed!"
+
+"Justice is never denied, my good friend, nor is it sold," replied Mr.
+Halfpenny, oracularly. "As to delay, ah, well, you know, if people will
+be litigants--and I assure you that nothing is so pleasing to a very
+large number of extraordinary persons who simply love litigation--a
+little delay cannot be avoided. However, we will hope that we shall have
+no litigation. Our present job is to get that will proved, and so far I
+see no difficulty. There is the will--we have the witnesses. At least,
+there are you, and we're hoping to see t'other in a few minutes. By the
+by, Tertius, what sort of fellow is this Burchill?"
+
+Mr. Tertius considered his answer to this question.
+
+"Well, I hardly know," he said at last. "Of course, I have rarely seen
+much of Jacob's secretaries. This man--he's not quite a youngster,
+Halfpenny--struck me as being the sort of person who might be dangerous."
+
+"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Halfpenny. "Dangerous! God bless me! Now, in what
+way, Tertius?"
+
+"I don't quite know," replied Mr. Tertius. "He, somehow, from what I saw
+of him, suggested, I really don't know how, a certain atmosphere of,
+say--I'm trying to find the right words--cunning, subtlety, depth.
+Yes--yes, I should say he was what we commonly call--or what is commonly
+called in vulgar parlance--deep. Deep!"
+
+"You mean--designing?" suggested Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"Exactly--designing," assented Mr. Tertius. "It--it was the sort of idea
+he conveyed, you know."
+
+"Don't like the sound of him," said Mr. Halfpenny, "However, he's the
+second witness and we must put up with the fact. And here we are at
+these Calengrove Mansions, and let's hope we haven't a hundred infernal
+steps to climb, and that we find the fellow in."
+
+The fellow was in. And the fellow, who had now discarded his mourning
+suit for the purple and fine linen which suggested Bond Street, was just
+about to go out, and was in a great hurry, and said so. He listened with
+obvious impatience while Mr. Tertius presented his companion.
+
+"I wished to see you about the will of the deceased Jacob Herapath, Mr.
+Burchill," said Mr. Halfpenny "The will which, of course, you witnessed."
+
+Burchill, who was gathering some books and papers together, and had
+already apologized for not being able to ask his callers to sit down,
+answered in an off-hand, bustling fashion.
+
+"Of course, of course!" he replied. "Mr. Jacob Herapath's will, eh? Oh,
+of course, yes. Anything I can do, Mr. Halfpenny, of course--perhaps
+you'll drop me a line and make an appointment at your office some
+day--then I'll call, d'you see?"
+
+"You remember the occasion, and the will, and your signature?" said Mr.
+Halfpenny, contriving to give Mr. Tertius a nudge as he put this direct
+question.
+
+"Oh, I remember everything that ever happened in connection with my
+secretaryship to Mr. Jacob Herapath!" replied Burchill, still bustling.
+"I shall be ready for anything whenever I'm wanted, Mr. Halfpenny--pleased
+to be of service to the family, I'm sure. Now, you must really pardon
+me, gentlemen, if I hurry you and myself out--I've a most important
+engagement and I'm late already. As I said--drop me a line for an
+appointment, Mr. Halfpenny, and I'll come to you. Now, good-bye,
+good-bye!"
+
+He had got them out of his flat, shaken hands with them, and hurried
+off before either elderly gentleman could get a word in, and as he flew
+towards the stairs Mr. Halfpenny looked at Mr. Tertius and shook his head.
+
+"That beggar didn't want to talk," he said. "I don't like it."
+
+"But he said that he remembered!" exclaimed Mr. Tertius. "Wasn't that
+satisfactory?"
+
+"Anything but satisfactory, the whole thing," replied the old lawyer.
+"Didn't you notice that the man avoided any direct reply? He said 'of
+course' about a hundred times, and was as ambiguous, and non-committal,
+and vague, as he could be. My dear Tertius, the fellow was fencing!"
+
+Mr. Tertius looked deeply distressed.
+
+"You don't think----" he began.
+
+"I might think a lot when I begin to think," said Mr. Halfpenny as they
+slowly descended the stairs from the desert solitude of the top floor of
+Calengrove Mansions. "But there's one thought that strikes me just
+now--do you remember what Burchill's old landlady at Upper Seymour
+Street told us?"
+
+"That Barthorpe Herapath had been to inquire for Burchill?--yes,"
+replied Mr. Tertius. "You're wondering----"
+
+"I'm wondering if, since then, Barthorpe has found him," said Mr.
+Halfpenny. "If he has--if there have been passages between them--if----"
+
+He paused half-way down the stairs, stood for a moment or two in deep
+thought and then laid his hand on his friend's arm.
+
+"Tertius!" he said gravely. "That will must be presented for probate at
+once! I must lose no time. Come along--let me get back to my office and
+get to work. And do you go back to Portman Square and give the little
+woman your company."
+
+Mr. Tertius went back to Portman Square there and then, and did what he
+could to make the gloomy house less gloomy. Instead of retreating to his
+own solitude he remained with Peggie, and tried to cheer her up by
+discussing various plans and matters of the future. And he was taking a
+quiet cup of tea with her at five o'clock when Kitteridge came in with a
+telegram for him. He opened it with trembling fingers and read:
+
+ _"Barthorpe entered caveat in Probate Registry at half-past
+ three this afternoon.--Halfpenny."_
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+THE ROSEWOOD BOX
+
+
+Mr. Tertius dropped the telegram on the little table at which he and
+Peggie were sitting, and betrayed his feelings with a deep groan.
+Peggie, who was just about to give him his second cup of tea, set down
+her teapot and jumped to his side.
+
+"Oh, what is it!" she exclaimed. "Some bad news? Please--"
+
+Mr. Tertius pulled himself together and tried to smile.
+
+"You must forgive me, my dear," he said, with a feeble attempt to speak
+cheerily. "I--the truth is, I think I have lived in such a state of ease
+and--yes, luxury, for so many years that I am not capable of readily
+bearing these trials and troubles. I'm ashamed of myself--I must be
+braver--not so easily affected."
+
+"But--the telegram?" said Peggie.
+
+Mr. Tertius handed it to her with a dismal shake of his head.
+
+"I suppose it's only what was to be expected, after all that Halfpenny
+told me this afternoon," he remarked. "But I scarcely thought it would
+occur so soon. My dear, I am afraid you must prepare yourself for a
+great deal of unpleasantness and worry. Your cousin seems to be
+determined to give much trouble. Extraordinary!--most extraordinary! My
+dear, I confess I do not understand it."
+
+Peggie had picked up the telegram and was reading it with knitted brow.
+
+"'Barthorpe entered caveat in Probate Registry at half-past three this
+afternoon,'" she slowly repeated. "But what does that mean, Mr. Tertius?
+Something to do with the will?"
+
+"A great deal to do with the will, I fear!" replied Mr. Tertius,
+lugubriously. "A caveat, my dear, is some sort of process--I'm sure I
+don't know whether it's given by word of mouth, or if it's a document--by
+which the admission to probate of a dead person's last will and testament
+can be stopped. In plain language," continued Mr. Tertius, "your cousin
+Barthorpe has been to the Probate Registry and done something to prevent
+Mr. Halfpenny from proving the will. It is a wicked action on his
+part--and, considering that he is a solicitor, and that he saw the
+will with his own eyes, it is, as I have previously remarked, most
+extraordinary!"
+
+"And all this means--what?" asked Peggie.
+
+"It means that there will be legal proceedings," groaned Mr. Tertius.
+"Long, tedious, most annoying and trying proceedings! Perhaps a trial--we
+may have to go to court and give evidence. I dread it!--I am, as I said,
+so used to a life of ease and freedom from anxiety that anything of this
+sort distresses me unspeakably. I fear I am degenerating into cowardice!"
+
+"Nonsense!" said Peggie. "It is merely that this sort of thing is
+disturbing. And we are not going to be afraid of Barthorpe. Barthorpe is
+very foolish. I meant--always have meant, ever since I heard about the
+will--to share with him, for there's no law against that. But if
+Barthorpe wants to upset the will altogether and claim everything, I
+shall fight him. And if I win--as I suppose I shall--I shall make him do
+penance pretty heavily before he's forgiven. However, that's all in the
+future. What I don't understand about the present is--how can that will
+be upset? Mr. Halfpenny says it's duly and properly executed, witnessed,
+and so on--how can Barthorpe object to it?"
+
+Mr. Tertius put down his cup and rose.
+
+"Your cousin, Barthorpe, my dear, is, I regret to say, a deep man," he
+replied. "He has some scheme in his head. This," he went on, picking up
+the telegram and placing it in his pocket, "this is the first step in
+that scheme. Well, it is perhaps a relief to know that he has taken it:
+we shall now know where we are and what has to be done."
+
+"Quite so," said Peggie. "But there is another matter, Mr. Tertius,
+which seems to be forgotten in this of the will. Pray, what is Barthorpe
+doing, what is anybody doing, about solving the mystery of my uncle's
+death? Everybody says he was murdered--who is doing anything to find the
+murderer?"
+
+Mr. Tertius, who had advanced as far as the door on his way out of the
+room, came back to Peggie's side in a fashion suggestive of deep
+mystery, walking on the tips of his toes and putting a finger to his
+lips as he drew near his chair.
+
+"My dear!" he said, bending down to her and speaking in a tone fully as
+indicative of mystery as his tip-toe movement, "a great deal is being
+done--but in the strictest secrecy! Most important investigations, my
+dear!--the police, the detective police, you know. The word at
+present--to put it into one word, vulgar, but expressive--the word is
+'Mum'! Silence, my dear--the policy of the mole--underground working,
+you know. From what I am aware of, and from what our good friend
+Halfpenny tells me, and believes, I gather that a result will be
+attained which will be surprising."
+
+"So long as justice is done," remarked Peggie. "That is all I want--all we
+ought to aim at. I don't care twopence about surprising or sensational
+discoveries--I want to see my uncle's murderer properly punished."
+
+She shed a few more quiet tears over Jacob Herapath's untoward fate when
+Mr. Tertius had left her and fell to thinking about him. The thoughts
+which came presently led her to go to the dead man's room--a simple,
+spartan-like chamber which she had not entered since his death. She had
+a vague sense of wanting to be brought into touch with him through the
+things which had been his, and for a while she wandered aimlessly about
+the room, laying a hand now and then on the objects which she knew he
+must have handled the last time he had occupied the room--his toilet
+articles, the easy chair in which he always sat for a few minutes every
+night, reading a little before going to bed, the garments which hung in
+his wardrobe, anything on which his fingers had rested. And as she
+wandered about she noted, not for the first nor the hundredth time, how
+Jacob Herapath had gathered about him in this room a number of objects
+connected with his youth. The very furniture, simple, homely stuff, had
+once stood in his mother's bedroom in a small cottage in a far-off
+country. On the walls were portraits of his father and mother--crude
+things painted by some local artist; there, too, were some samplers
+worked by his mother in her girlhood, flanked by some faded groups of
+flowers which she had painted about the same time. Jacob Herapath had
+brought all these things to his grand house in Portman Square years
+before, and had cleared a room of fine modern furniture and fittings to
+make space for them. He had often said to Peggie, when she grew old
+enough to understand, that he liked to wake in a morning and see the old
+familiar things about him which he had known as a child. For one object
+in that room he had a special veneration and affection--an old rosewood
+workbox, which had belonged to his mother, and to her mother before her.
+Once he had allowed Peggie to inspect it, to take from it the tray lined
+with padded green silk, to examine the various nooks and corners
+contrived by the eighteenth-century cabinetmaker--some disciple, maybe,
+of Chippendale or Sheraton--to fit the tarnished silver thimbles on to
+her own fingers, to wonder at the knick-knacks of a departed age, and to
+laugh over the scent of rose and lavender which hung about the skeins
+and spools. And he had told her that when he died the rosewood box
+should be hers--as long as he lived, he said, it must stand on his chest
+of drawers, so that he could see it at least twice a day.
+
+Jacob Herapath was dead now, and buried, and the rosewood box and
+everything else that had been his had passed to Peggie--as things were,
+at any rate. She presently walked up to the queer old chest of drawers,
+and drew the rosewood box towards her and lifted the lid. It was years
+since Jacob had shown it to her, and she remembered the childish delight
+with which she had lifted out the tray which lay on the top and looked
+into the various compartments beneath it. Now she opened the box again,
+and lifted the tray--and there, lying bold and uncovered before her
+eyes, she saw a letter, inscribed with one word in Jacob Herapath's
+well-known handwriting--"Peggie."
+
+If Jacob Herapath himself had suddenly appeared before her in that quiet
+room, the girl could scarcely have felt more keenly the strange and
+subtle fear which seized upon her as she realized that what she was
+staring at was probably some message to herself. It was some time before
+she dared to lay hands on this message--when at last she took the letter
+out of the box her fingers trembled so much that she found a difficulty
+in opening the heavily-sealed envelope. But she calmed herself with a
+great effort, and carrying the half-sheet of note-paper, which she drew
+from its cover, over to the window, lifted it in the fading light and
+read the few lines which Jacob Herapath had scrawled there.
+
+ "If anything ever happens suddenly to me, my will, duly
+ executed and witnessed by Mr. Tertius and Mr. Frank
+ Burchill, is in a secret drawer of my old bureau which
+ lies behind the third small drawer on the right-hand
+ side.
+
+ "JACOB HERAPATH."
+
+That was all--beyond a date, and the date was a recent one. "If anything
+ever happens suddenly"--had he then felt some fear, experienced any
+premonition, of a sudden happening? Why had he never said anything to
+her, why?
+
+But Peggie realized that such questions were useless at that time--that
+time was pre-eminently one of action. She put the letter back in the
+rosewood box, took the box in her arms, and carrying it off to her own
+room, locked it up in a place of security. And that had scarcely been
+done when Kitteridge came seeking her and bringing with him a card: Mr.
+Frank Burchill's card, and on it scribbled a single line: "Will you
+kindly give me a few minutes?"
+
+Peggie considered this request in one flash of thought, and turned to
+the butler.
+
+"Where is Mr. Burchill?" she asked. "In the study? Very well, I will
+come down to him in a few minutes."
+
+She made a mighty effort to show herself calm, collected, and indifferent,
+when she presently went down to the study. But she neither shook hands
+with the caller, nor asked him to sit; instead she marched across to the
+hearthrug and regarded him from a distance.
+
+"Yes, Mr. Burchill?" she said quietly. "You wish to see me?"
+
+She looked him over steadily as she spoke, and noted a certain air of
+calm self-assurance about him which struck her with a vague uneasiness.
+He was too easy, too quiet, too entirely businesslike to be free from
+danger. And the bow which he gave her was, to her thinking, the height
+of false artifice.
+
+"I wished to see you and to speak to you, with your permission," he
+answered. "I beg you to believe that what I have--what I desire to say
+is to be said by me with the deepest respect, the most sincere
+consideration. I have your permission to speak? Then I beg to ask you
+if--I speak with deep courtesy!--if the answer which you made to a
+certain question of mine some time ago is--was--is to be--final?"
+
+"So final that I am surprised that you should refer to the matter,"
+replied Peggie. "I told you so at the time."
+
+"Circumstances have changed," he said. "I am at a parting of the ways in
+life's journey. I wish to know--definitely--which way I am to take. A
+ray of guiding light from you----"
+
+"There will be none!" said Peggie sharply. "Not a gleam. This is waste
+of time. If that is all you have to say----"
+
+The door of the study opened, and Selwood, who was still engaged about
+the house, came in. He paused on the threshold, staring from one to the
+other, and made as if to withdraw. But Peggie openly smiled on him.
+
+"Come in, Mr. Selwood," she said. "I was just going to ask Kitteridge to
+find you. I want to see both you and Mr. Tertius."
+
+Then she turned to Burchill, who stood, a well-posed figure in his fine
+raiment, still watching her, and made him a frigid bow.
+
+"There is no more to say on that point--at any time," she said quietly.
+"Good day. Mr. Selwood, will you ring the bell?"
+
+Burchill executed another profound and self-possessed bow. He presently
+followed the footman from the room, and Peggie, for the first time since
+Jacob Herapath's death, suddenly let her face relax and burst into a
+hearty laugh.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+WEAVING THE NET
+
+
+That evening Triffitt got Burchill's address from Carver, and next day
+he drew a hundred pounds from the cashier of the _Argus_ and went off to
+Calengrove Mansions. In his mind there was a clear and definite notion.
+It might result in something; it might come to nothing, but he was going
+to try it. Briefly, it was that if he wished--as he unfeignedly did
+wish--to find out anything about Burchill, he must be near him; so near,
+indeed, that he could keep an eye on him, acquaint himself with his
+goings and comings, observe his visitors, watch for possible openings,
+make himself familiar with Burchill's daily life. It might be a
+difficult task; it might be an easy task--in any case, it was a task
+that must be attempted. With Markledew's full consent and approval
+behind him and Markledew's money-bags to draw upon, Triffitt felt equal
+to attempting anything.
+
+The first thing was to take a quiet look at Burchill's immediate
+environment. Calengrove Mansions turned out to be one of the smaller of
+the many blocks of residential flats which have of late years arisen in
+such numbers in the neighbourhood of Maida Vale and St. John's Wood. It
+was an affair of some five or six floors, and judging from what Triffitt
+could see of it from two sides, it was not fully occupied at that time,
+for many of its windows were uncurtained, and there was a certain air of
+emptiness about the upper storeys. This fact was not unpleasing to
+Triffitt; it argued that he would have small difficulty in finding a
+lodgment within the walls which sheltered the man he wanted to watch.
+And in pursuance of his scheme, which, as a beginning, was to find out
+exactly where Burchill was located, he walked into the main entrance and
+looked about him, hoping to find an address-board. Such a board
+immediately caught his eye, affixed to the wall near the main staircase.
+Then Triffitt saw that the building was divided into five floors, each
+floor having some three or four flats. Those on the bottom floors
+appeared to be pretty well taken; the names of their occupants were
+neatly painted in small compartments on the board. Right at the top was
+the name Mr. Frank Burchill--and on that floor, which evidently
+possessed three flats, there were presumably no other occupants, for the
+remaining two spaces relating to it were blank.
+
+Triffitt took all this in at a glance; another glance showed him a door
+close by on which was painted the word "Office." He pushed this open and
+walked inside, to confront a clerk who was the sole occupant. To him,
+Triffitt, plunging straight into business, gently intimated that he was
+searching for a convenient flat. The clerk immediately began to pull out
+some coloured plans, labelled first, second, third floors.
+
+"About what sized flat do you require?" he asked. He had already looked
+Triffitt well over, and as Triffitt, in honour of the occasion, had put
+on his smartest suit and a new overcoat, he decided that this was a
+young man who was either just married or about to be married. "Do you
+want a family flat, or one for a couple without family, or----"
+
+"What I want," answered Triffitt readily, "is a bachelor flat--for
+myself. And--if possible--furnished."
+
+"Oh!" said the clerk. "Just so. I happen to have something that will
+suit you exactly--that is, if you don't want to take it for longer than
+three or four months." He pulled forward another plan, labelled "Fifth
+Floor," and pointed to certain portions, shaded off in light colours.
+"One of our tenants, Mr. Stillwater," he continued, "has gone abroad for
+four months, and he'd be glad to let his flat, furnished, in his
+absence. That's it--it contains, you see, a nice sitting-room, a
+bedroom, a bathroom, and a small kitchen--all contained within the flat,
+of course. It is well and comfortably furnished, and available at once."
+
+Triffitt bent over the plan. But he was not looking at the shaded
+portion over which the clerk's pencil was straying; instead he was
+regarding the fact that across the corresponding portion of the plan was
+written in red ink the words, "Mr. Frank Burchill." The third portion
+was blank; it, apparently, was unlet.
+
+"That is really about the size of flat I want," said Triffitt, musingly.
+"What's the rent of that, now?"
+
+"I can let that to you for fifty shillings a week," answered the clerk.
+"That includes everything--there's plate, linen, glass, china, anything
+you want. Slight attendance can be arranged for with our caretaker's
+wife--that is, she can cook breakfast, and make beds, and do more, if
+necessary. Perhaps you would like to see this flat?"
+
+Triffitt followed the clerk to the top of the house. The absent Mr.
+Stillwater's rooms were comfortable and pleasant; one glance around them
+decided Triffitt.
+
+"This place will suit me very well," he said. "Now I'll give you
+satisfactory references about myself, and pay you a month's rent in
+advance, and if that's all right to you, I'll come in today. You can
+ring up my references on your 'phone, and then, if you're satisfied,
+we'll settle the rent, and I'll see the caretaker's wife about airing
+that bed."
+
+Within half an hour Triffitt was occupant of the flat, the cashier of
+the _Argus_ having duly telephoned that he was a thoroughly dependable
+and much-respected member of its staff, and Triffitt himself having
+handed over ten pounds as rent for the coming month, he interviewed the
+caretaker's wife, went to a neighbouring grocer's shop and ordered a
+stock of necessaries wherewith to fill his larder, repaired to his own
+lodgings and brought away all that he wanted in the way of luggage,
+books, and papers, and by the middle of the afternoon was fairly settled
+in his new quarters. He spent an hour in putting himself and his
+belongings straight--and then came the question what next?
+
+He was there for a special purpose--that special purpose was to
+acquaint himself as thoroughly as possible with the doings of Frank
+Burchill. Burchill was there--he was almost on the point of saying, in
+the next cell!--there, in the flat across the corridor; figuratively,
+within touch, if it were not for sundry divisions of brick, mortar, and
+the like. Burchill's door was precisely opposite his own; there was an
+advantage in that fact. And in Triffitt's outer door (all these flats,
+he discovered--that is, if they were all like his own, possessed double
+doors) there was a convenient letter slit, by manipulating which he
+could, if he chose, keep a perpetual observation on the other opposite.
+But Triffitt did not propose to sit with his eye glued to that letter
+slit all day--it might be useful at times, and for some special purpose,
+but he had wider views. And the first thing to do was to make an
+examination, geographical and exhaustive, of his own surroundings:
+Triffitt had learnt, during his journalistic training, that attention to
+details is one of the most important things in life.
+
+The first thing that had struck Triffitt in this respect was that there
+was no lift in this building. He had remarked on that to the clerk, and
+the clerk had answered with a shrug of the shoulders that it was a
+mistake and one for which the proprietor was already having to pay.
+However, Triffitt, bearing in mind what job he was on, was not
+displeased that the lift had been omitted--it is sometimes an advantage
+to be able to hang over the top rail of a staircase and watch people
+coming up from below. He stored that fact in his mental reservoirs. And
+now that he had got into his rooms, he proceeded to seek for more
+facts. First, as to the rooms themselves--he wanted to know all about
+them, because he had carefully noticed, while looking at the plan of
+that floor in the office downstairs, that Burchill's flat was arranged
+exactly like his own. And Triffitt's flat was like this--you entered
+through a double door into a good-sized sitting-room, out of which two
+other rooms led--one went into a small kitchen and pantry; the other
+into the bedroom, at the side of which was a little bathroom. The
+windows of the bedroom opened on to a view of the street below; those of
+the sitting-room on to a square of garden, on the lawn of which tenants
+might disport themselves, more or less sadly, with tennis or croquet in
+summer.
+
+Triffitt looked out of his sitting-room windows last of all. He then
+perceived with great joy that in front of them was a balcony, and that
+this balcony stretched across the entire front of the house. There were,
+in fact, balconies to all five floors--the notion being, of course, that
+occupants could whenever they pleased sit out there in such sunlight as
+struggled between their own roof and the tall buildings opposite. It
+immediately occurred to Triffitt that here was an easy way of making a
+call upon your next door neighbour; instead of crossing the corridor and
+knocking at his door, you had nothing to do but walk along the balcony
+and tap at his window. Filled with this thought Triffitt immediately
+stepped out on his balcony and inspected the windows of his own and the
+next flat. He immediately saw something which filled him with a great
+idea. Both windows were fitted with patent ventilators, let into the top
+panes. Now, supposing one of these ventilators was fully open, and two
+people were talking within the room in even the ordinary tones of
+conversation--would it not be possible for an eavesdropper outside to
+hear a good deal, if not everything, of what was said? The idea was
+worth thinking over, anyway, and Triffitt retired indoors to ruminate
+over it and over much else.
+
+For two or three days nothing happened. Twice Triffitt met Burchill on
+the stairs--Burchill, of course, did not know him from Adam, and gave
+him no more than the mere glance he would have thrown at any other
+ordinary young man. Triffitt, however, gave Burchill more than a passing
+look--unobtrusively. Certainly he was the man whom he had seen in the
+dock nine years before in that far-off Scottish town--there was little
+appreciable alteration in his appearance, except that he was now very
+smartly dressed. There were peculiarities about the fellow, said
+Triffitt, which you couldn't forget--certainly, Frank Burchill was
+Francis Bentham.
+
+But on the third day, two things happened--one connected directly with
+Triffitt's new venture, the other not. The first was that as Triffitt
+was going down the stairs that afternoon, on his way to the office, at
+which he kept looking in now and then, although he was relieved from
+regular attendance and duty, he met Barthorpe Herapath coming up.
+Triffitt thanked his lucky stars that the staircase was badly lighted,
+and that this was an unusually gloomy November day. True, Barthorpe had
+only once seen him, that he knew of--that morning at the estate office,
+when he, Triffitt, had asked Selwood for information--but then, some men
+have sharp memories for faces, and Barthorpe might recognize him and
+wonder what an _Argus_ man was doing there in Calengrove Mansions. So
+Triffitt quickly pulled the flap of the Trilby hat about his nose, and
+sank his chin lower into the turned-up collar of his overcoat, and
+hurried past the tall figure. And Barthorpe on his part never looked at
+the reporter--or if he did, took no more heed of him than of the
+balustrade at his side.
+
+"That's one thing established, anyway!" mused Triffitt as he went his
+way. "Barthorpe Herapath is in touch with Burchill. The dead man's
+nephew and the dead man's ex-secretary--um! Putting their heads
+together--about what?"
+
+He was still pondering this question when he reached the office and
+found a note from Carver who wanted to see him at once. Triffitt went
+round to the _Magnet_ and got speech with Carver in a quiet corner.
+Carver went straight to his point.
+
+"I've got him," he said, eyeing his fellow-conspirator triumphantly.
+
+"Got--who?" demanded Triffitt.
+
+"That taxi-cab chap--you know who I mean," answered Carver. "Ran him
+down at noon today."
+
+"No!" exclaimed Triffitt. "Gad! Are you sure, though?--is it certain
+he's the man you were after?"
+
+"He's the chap who drove a gentleman from near Portman Square to just by
+St. Mary Abbot church at two o'clock on the morning of the Herapath
+murder," replied Carver. "That's a dead certainty! I risked five pounds
+on it, anyway, for which I'll trouble you. I went on the lines of
+rounding up all the cabbies I could find who were as a rule on night
+duty round about that quarter, and bit by bit I got on to this fellow,
+and, as I say, I gave him a fiver for just telling me a mere bit. And
+it's here--he's already given some information to that old Mr.
+Tertius--you know--and Tertius commanded him to keep absolutely quiet
+until the moment came for a move. Well, that moment has not come yet,
+evidently--the chap hasn't been called on since, anyhow--and when I
+mentioned money he began to prick his ears. He's willing to tell--for
+money--if we keep dark what he tells us. The truth is, he's out to get
+what he can out of anybody. If you make it worth his while, he'll tell."
+
+"Aye!" said Triffitt. "But the question is, what has he got to tell?
+What does he know?--actually know?"
+
+"He knows," replied Carver, "he actually knows who the man was that he
+drove that morning! He didn't know who he was when he first gave
+information to Tertius, but he knows now, and, as I say, he's willing to
+sell his knowledge--in private."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+THE DIAMOND RING
+
+
+Triffitt considered Carver's report during a moment of mutual silence.
+If he had consulted his own personal inclination he would have demanded
+to be led straight to the taxi-cab driver. But Triffitt knew himself to
+be the expender of the Markledew money, and the knowledge made him
+unduly cautious.
+
+"It comes to this," he said at last, "this chap knows something which he's
+already told to this Mr. Tertius. Mr. Tertius has in all probability
+already told it to the people at New Scotland Yard. They, of course, will
+use the information at their own time and in their own way. But what we
+want is something new--something startling--something good!"
+
+"I tell you the fellow's got all that," said Carver. "He knows the man
+whom he drove that morning. Isn't that good enough?"
+
+"Depend upon how I can bring it out," answered Triffitt. "Well, when can
+I see this chap?"
+
+"Tonight--seven o'clock," replied Carver. "I fixed that, in anticipation."
+
+"And--where?" demanded Triffitt.
+
+"I'll go with you--it's to be at a pub near Orchard Street," said
+Carver. "Better bring money with you--he'll want cash."
+
+"All right," agreed Triffitt. "But I'm not going to throw coin about
+recklessly. I shall want value."
+
+Carver laughed. Triffitt's sudden caution amused him.
+
+"I reckon people have to buy pigs in pokes in dealing with this sort of
+thing, Triff," he said. "But whether the chap's information's good for
+much or not, I'm certain it's genuine. Well, come round here again at
+six-thirty."
+
+Triffitt, banknotes in pocket, went round again at six-thirty, and was
+duly conducted Oxford Street way by Carver, who eventually led him into
+a network of small streets, in which the mews and the stable appeared to
+be conspicuous features, and to the bar-parlour of a somewhat dingy
+tavern, at that hour little frequented. And at precisely seven o'clock
+the door of the parlour opened and a face showed itself, recognized
+Carver, and grinned. Carver beckoned the face into a corner, and having
+formally introduced his friend Triffitt, suggested liquid refreshment.
+The face assented cordially, and having obscured itself for a moment
+behind a pint pot, heaved a sigh of gratification, and seemed desirous
+of entering upon business.
+
+"But it ain't, of course, to go no further--at present," said the owner
+of the face. "Not into no newspapers nor nothing, _at_ present. I don't
+mind telling you young gents, if it's made worth my while, of course,
+but as things is, I don't want the old gent in Portman Square to know as
+how I've let on--d'ye see? Of course, I ain't seen nothing of him never
+since I called there, and he gave me a couple o' quid, and told me to
+expect more--only the more's a long time o' coming, and if I do see my
+way to turning a honest penny by what I knows, why, then, d'ye see----"
+
+"I see, very well," assented Triffitt. "And what might your idea of an
+honest penny be, now?"
+
+The taxi-cab driver silently regarded his questioner. He had already had
+a five-pound note out of Carver, who carried a small fund about him in
+case of emergency; he was speculating on his chances of materially
+increasing this, and his eyes grew greedy.
+
+"Well, now, guv'nor, what's your own notion of that?" he asked at last.
+"I'm a poor chap, you know, and I don't often get a chance o' making a
+bit in this way. What's it worth--what I can tell, you know--to you?
+This here young gentleman was keen enough about it this afternoon,
+guv'nor."
+
+"Depends," answered Triffitt. "You'd better answer a question or two.
+First--you haven't told the old gentleman in Portman Square--Mr.
+Tertius--any more than what you told my friend here you'd told him?"
+
+"Not a word more, guv'nor! 'Cause why--I ain't seen him since."
+
+"And you've told nothing to the police?"
+
+"The police ain't never come a-nigh me, and I ain't been near them. What
+the old chap said was--wait! And I've waited and ain't heard nothing."
+
+"Wherefore," observed Triffitt sardonically, "you want to make a bit."
+
+"Ain't no harm in a man doing his best for his-elf, guv'nor, I hope,"
+said the would-be informant. "If I don't look after myself, who's
+a-going to look after me--I asks you that, now?"
+
+"And I ask you--how much?" said Triffitt. "Out with it!"
+
+The taxi-cab driver considered, eyeing his prospective customer
+furtively.
+
+"The other gent told you what it is I can tell, guv'nor?" he said at
+last. "It's information of what you might call partik'lar importance, is
+that."
+
+"I know--you can tell the name of the man whom you drove that morning
+from the corner of Orchard Street to Kensington High Street," replied
+Triffitt. "It may be important--it mayn't. You see, the police haven't
+been in any hurry to approach you, have they? Come now, give it a name?"
+
+The informant summoned up his resolution.
+
+"Cash down--on the spot, guv'nor?" he asked.
+
+"Spot cash," replied Triffitt. "On this table!"
+
+"Well--how would a couple o' fivers be, now?" asked the anxious one.
+"It's good stuff, guv'nor."
+
+"A couple of fivers will do," answered Triffitt. "And here they are." He
+took two brand-new, crackling five-pound notes from his pocket, folded
+them up, laid them on the table, and set a glass on them. "Now, then!"
+he said. "Tell your tale--there's your money when it's told."
+
+The taxi-cab driver eyed the notes, edged his chair further into the
+half-lighted corner in which Triffitt and Carver sat, and dropped his
+voice to a whisper.
+
+"All right, guv'nor," he said. "Thanking you. Then it's this here--the
+man what I drove that morning was the nephew!"
+
+"You mean Mr. Barthorpe Herapath?" said Triffitt, also in a whisper.
+
+"That's him--that's the identical, sir! Of course," continued the
+informant, "I didn't know nothing of that when I told the old gent in
+Portman Square what I did tell him. Now, you see, I wasn't called at
+that inquest down there at Kensington--after what I'd told the old gent,
+I expected to be, but I wasn't. All the same, there's been a deal of
+talk around about the corner of Orchard Street, and, of course, there is
+them in that quarter as knows all the parties concerned, and this man
+Barthorpe, as you call him, was pointed out to me as the nephew--nephew
+to him as was murdered that night. And then, of course, I knew it was
+him as I took up at two o'clock that morning."
+
+"How did you know?" asked Triffitt.
+
+The taxi-cab driver held up a hand and tapped a brass ring on its third
+finger.
+
+"Where I wears that ring, gentlemen," he said triumphantly, "he wears a
+fine diamond--a reg'lar swell 'un. That morning, when he got into my
+cab, he rested his hand a minute on the door, and the light from one o'
+the lamps across the street shone full on the stone. Now, then, when
+this here Barthorpe was pointed out to me in Orchard Street, a few days
+ago, as the nephew of Jacob Herapath, he was talking to another
+gentleman, and as they stood there he lighted a cigar, and when he put
+his hand up, I see that ring again--no mistaking it, guv'nor! He was
+the man. And, from what I've read, it seems to me it was him as put on
+his uncle's coat and hat after the old chap was settled, and----"
+
+"If I were you, I'd keep those theories to myself--yet awhile, at any
+rate," said Triffitt. "In fact--I want you to. Here!" he went on,
+removing the glass and pushing the folded banknotes towards the taxi-cab
+driver, "put those in your pocket. And keep your mouth shut about having
+seen and told me. I shan't make any use--public use, anyway--of what
+you've said, just yet. If the old gentleman, Tertius, comes to you, or
+the police come along with or without him, you can tell 'em anything you
+like--everything you've told me if you please--it doesn't matter, now.
+But you're on no account to tell them that I've seen you and that you've
+spilt to me--do you understand?"
+
+The informant understood readily enough, and promised with equal
+readiness, even going so far as to say that that would suit him down to
+the ground.
+
+"All right," said Triffitt, "keep a still tongue as regards me, and
+there'll be another fiver for you. Now, Carver, we'll get."
+
+Outside Triffitt gave his companion's arm a confidential squeeze.
+
+"Things are going well!" he said. "I wasn't a bit surprised at what that
+fellow told me--I expected it. What charms me is that Barthorpe
+Herapath, who is certainly to be strongly suspected, is in touch with
+Burchill--I didn't tell you that I met him on the stairs at Calengrove
+Mansions this afternoon. Of course, he was going to see my next-door
+neighbour! What about, friend Carver?"
+
+"If you could answer your own last question, we should know something,"
+replied Carver.
+
+"We know something as it is," said Triffitt. "Enough for me to tell
+Markledew, anyway. I don't see so far into all this, myself, but
+Markledew's the sort of chap who can look through three brick walls and
+see a mole at work in whatever's behind the third, and he'll see
+something in what I tell him, and I'll do the telling as soon as he
+comes down tomorrow morning."
+
+Markledew listened to Triffitt's story next day in his usual rapt
+silence. The silence remained unbroken for some time after Triffitt had
+finished. And eventually Markledew got up from his elbow-chair and
+reached for his hat.
+
+"You can come with me," he said. "We'll just ride as far as New Scotland
+Yard."
+
+Triffitt felt himself turning pale. New Scotland Yard! Was he then to
+share his discoveries with officials? In spite of his awful veneration
+for the great man before him he could not prevent two words of
+despairing ejaculation escaping from his lips.
+
+"The police!"
+
+"Just so--the police," answered Markledew, calmly. "I mean to work this
+in connection with them. No need to alarm yourself, young man--I know
+what you're thinking. But you won't lose any 'kudos'--I'm quite
+satisfied with you so far. But we can't do without the police--and they
+may be glad of even a hint from us. Now run down and get a taxi-cab and
+I'll meet you outside."
+
+Triffitt had never been within the mazes of New Scotland Yard in his
+life, and had often wished that business would take him there. It was
+very soon plain to him, however, that his proprietor knew his way about
+the Criminal Investigation Department as well as he knew the _Argus_
+office. Markledew was quickly closeted with the high official who had
+seen Mr. Halfpenny and Mr. Tertius a few days previously; while they
+talked, Triffitt was left to kick his heels in a waiting-room. When he
+was eventually called in, he found not only the high official and
+Markledew, but another man whose name was presently given to him as
+Davidge.
+
+"Mr. Davidge," observed the high official, "is in charge of this case.
+Will you just tell him your story?"
+
+It appeared to Triffitt that Mr. Davidge was the least impressionable,
+most stolid man he had ever known. Davidge showed no sign of interest;
+Triffitt began to wonder if anything could ever surprise him. He
+listened in dead silence to all that the reporter had to say; when
+Triffitt had finished he looked apathetically at his superior.
+
+"I think, sir, I will just step round to Mr. Halfpenny's office," he
+remarked. "Perhaps Mr. Triffitt will accompany me?--then he and I can
+have a bit of a talk."
+
+Triffitt looked at Markledew: Markledew nodded his big head.
+
+"Go with him," said Markledew. "Work with him! He knows what he's
+after."
+
+Davidge took Triffitt away to Mr. Halfpenny's office--on the way thither
+he talked about London fogs, one of which had come down that morning.
+But he never mentioned the business in hand until--having left Triffitt
+outside while he went in--he emerged from Mr. Halfpenny's room. Then he
+took the reporter's arm and led him away, and his manner changed to one
+of interest and even enthusiasm.
+
+"Well, young fellow!" he said, leading Triffitt down the street, "you're
+the chap I wanted to get hold of!--you're a godsend. And so you really
+have a flat next to that occupied by the person whom we'll refer to as
+F. B., eh?"
+
+"I have," answered Triffitt, who was full of wonderment.
+
+"Good--good!--couldn't be better!" murmured the detective. "Now then--I
+dare say you'd be quite pleased if I called on you at your flat--quietly
+and unobtrusively--at say seven o'clock tonight, eh?"
+
+"Delighted!" answered Triffitt. "Of course!"
+
+"Very good," said Davidge. "Then at seven o'clock tonight I shall be
+there. In the meantime--not a word. You're curious to know why I'm
+coming? All right--keep your curiosity warm till I come--I'll satisfy
+it. Tonight, mind, young man--seven, sharp!"
+
+Then he gave Triffitt's arm a squeeze and winked an eye at him, and at
+once set off in one direction, while the reporter, mystified and
+inquisitive, turned in another.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+THE DESERTED FLAT
+
+
+When Triffitt had fairly separated from the detective and had come to
+reckon up the events of that morning he became definitely conscious of
+one indisputable fact. The police knew more than he did. The police were
+in possession of information which had not come his way. The police were
+preparing some big _coup_. Therefore--the police would get all the
+glory.
+
+This was not what Triffitt had desired. He had wanted to find things out
+for himself, to make a grand discovery, to be able to go to Markledew
+and prove his case. Markledew could then have done what he pleased; it
+had always been in Triffitt's mind that Markledew would in all
+probability present the result of his reporter's labours to the people
+at Scotland Yard. But Markledew had become somewhat previous--he had
+insisted that Triffitt should talk to the Scotland Yard folk at this
+early--in Triffitt's view, much too early--stage of the proceedings. And
+Triffitt had felt all the time he was talking that he was only telling
+the high official and the apathetic Davidge something that they already
+knew. He had told them about his memories of Bentham and the Scottish
+murder trial--something convinced him that they were already well
+acquainted with that story. He had narrated the incident of the taxi-cab
+driver: he was sure that they were quite well aware that the man who had
+been driven from Orchard Street to St. Mary Abbot church that morning
+after the murder was Barthorpe Herapath. Their cold eyes and polite, yet
+almost chillingly indifferent manner had convinced Triffitt that they
+were just listening to something with which they were absolutely
+familiar. Never a gleam of interest had betrayed itself in their stolid
+official faces until he had referred to the fact that he himself was
+living in a flat next door to Burchill's. Then, indeed, the detective
+had roused himself almost to eagerness, and now he was coming to see
+him, Triffitt, quietly and unobtrusively. Why?
+
+"All the same," mused Triffitt, "I shall maybe prove a small cog in the
+bigger mechanism, and that's something. And Markledew was satisfied,
+anyway, so far. And if I don't get something out of that chap Davidge
+tonight, write me down an ass!"
+
+From half-past six that evening, Triffitt, who had previously made some
+ingenious arrangements with the slit of his letter-box, by which he could
+keep an eye on the corridor outside, kept watch on Burchill's door--he
+had an instinctive notion that Davidge, when he arrived, would be glad to
+know whether the gentleman opposite was in or out. At a quarter to seven
+Burchill went out in evening dress, cloak, and opera hat, making a fine
+figure as he struck the light of the corridor lamp. And ten minutes later
+Triffitt heard steps coming along the corridor and he opened the door
+to confront Davidge and another man, a quiet-looking, innocent-visaged
+person. Davidge waved a hand towards his companion.
+
+"Evening, Mr. Triffitt," said he. "Friend of mine--Mr. Milsey. You'll
+excuse the liberty, I'm sure."
+
+"Glad to see both of you," answered Triffitt, cordially. He led the way
+into his sitting-room, drew chairs forward, and produced refreshments
+which he had carefully laid in during the afternoon in preparation.
+"Drop of whisky and soda, gentlemen?" he said, hospitably. "Let me help
+you. Will you try a cigar?"
+
+"Very kind of you," replied Davidge. "A slight amount of the liquid'll
+do us no harm, but no cigars, thank you, Mr. Triffitt. Cigars are apt to
+leave a scent, an odour, about one's clothes, however careful you may
+be, and we don't want to leave any traces of our presence where we're
+going, do we, Jim?"
+
+"Not much," assented Mr. Milsey, laconically. "Wouldn't do."
+
+Triffitt handed round the glasses and took a share himself.
+
+"Ah!" he said. "That's interesting! And where are you going, now--if one
+may ask?"
+
+Davidge nodded his desires for his host's good health, and then gave him
+a wink.
+
+"We propose to go in there," he said with a jerk of his thumb towards
+Burchill's flat. "It's what I've been wanting to do for three or four
+days, but I didn't see my way clear without resorting to a lot of
+things--search-warrant, and what not--and it would have meant collusion
+with the landlord here, and the clerk downstairs, and I don't know what
+all, so I put it off a bit. But when you told me that you'd got this
+flat, why, then, I saw my way! Of course, I've been familiar with the
+lie of these flats for a week--I saw the plans of 'em downstairs as soon
+as I started on to this job."
+
+"You've been on this job from the beginning, then--in connection with
+him?" exclaimed Triffitt, nodding towards the door.
+
+"We've never had him out of our sight since I started," replied Davidge,
+coolly, "except when he's been within his own four walls--where we're
+presently going. Oh, yes--we've watched him."
+
+"He's out now," remarked Triffitt.
+
+"We know that," said Davidge. "We know where he's gone. There's a first
+night, a new play, at the Terpsichoreum--he's gone there. He's safe
+enough till midnight, so we've plenty of time. We just want to have a
+look around his little nest while he's off it, d'you see?"
+
+"How are you going to get in?" asked Triffitt.
+
+Davidge nodded towards the window of the sitting-room.
+
+"By way of that balcony," he answered. "I told you I knew all about how
+these flats are arranged. That balcony's mighty convenient, for the
+window'll not be any more difficult than ordinary."
+
+"It'll be locked, you know," observed Triffitt, with a glance at his
+own. "Mine is, anyway, and you can bet his will be, too."
+
+"Oh--that doesn't matter," said Davidge, carelessly. "We're prepared.
+Show Mr. Triffitt your kit, Jim--all pals here."
+
+The innocent-looking Mr. Milsey, who, during this conversation, had
+mechanically sipped at his whisky and soda and reflectively gazed at the
+various pictures with which the absent Mr. Stillwater had decorated the
+walls of his parlour, plunged a hand into some deep recess in his
+overcoat and brought out an oblong case which reminded Triffitt of
+nothing so much as those Morocco or Russian-leather affairs in which a
+knife, a fork, and a spoon repose on padded blue satin and form an
+elegant present to a newly-born infant. Mr. Milsey snapped open the lid
+of his case, and revealed, instead of spoon or fork or knife a number of
+shining keys, of all sorts and sizes and strange patterns, all of
+delicate make and of evidently superior workmanship. He pushed the case
+across the table to the corner at which Triffitt was sitting, and
+Davidge regarded it fondly in transit.
+
+"Pretty things, ain't they?" he said. "Good workmanship there! There's
+not very much that you could lock up--in the ordinary way of drawers,
+boxes, desks, and so on--that Milsey there couldn't get into with the
+help of one or other of those little friends--what, Jim?"
+
+"Nothing!--always excepting a safe," assented Mr. Milsey.
+
+"Well, we don't suppose our friend next door keeps an article of that
+description on his premises," said Davidge cheerfully. "But we expect
+he's got a desk, or a private drawer, or something of that nature in
+which we may find a few little matters of interest and importance--it's
+curious, Mr. Triffitt--we're constantly taking notice of it in the
+course of our professional duties--it's curious how men will keep by
+them bits of paper that they ought to throw into the fire, and objects
+that they'd do well to cast into the Thames! Ah!--I've known one case in
+which a mere scrap of a letter hanged a man, and another in which a bit
+of string got a chap fifteen years of the very best--fact, sir! You
+never know what you may come across during a search."
+
+"You're going to search his rooms?" asked Triffitt.
+
+"Something of that sort," replied Davidge. "Just a look round, you know,
+and a bit of a peep into his private receptacles."
+
+"Then--you're suspecting him in connection with this----" began
+Triffitt.
+
+Davidge stopped him with a look, and slowly drank off the contents of
+his glass. Then he rose.
+
+"We'll talk of those matters later," he said significantly. "Now that my
+gentleman's safely away I think we'll set to work. It'll take a bit of
+time. And first of all, Mr. Triffitt, we'll examine your balcony door--I
+know enough about these modern flats to know that everything's pretty
+much alike in them as regards fittings, and if your door's easy to open,
+so will the door of the next be. Now we'll just let Jim there go outside
+with his apparatus, and we'll lock your balcony door on him, and then
+see if he finds any difficulty in getting in. To it, Jim!"
+
+Mr. Milsey, thus adjured, went out on the balcony with his little case
+and was duly locked out. Within two minutes he opened the door and
+stepped in with a satisfied grin.
+
+"Easy as winking!" said Mr. Milsey. "It's what you might call one of
+your penny plain locks, this--and t'other'll be like it. No difficulty
+about this job, anyway."
+
+"Then we'll get to work," said Davidge. "Mr. Triffitt, I can't ask you
+to come with us, because that wouldn't be according to etiquette. Sit
+you down and read your book and smoke your pipe and drink your drop--and
+maybe we'll have something to tell you when our job's through."
+
+"You've no fear of interruption?" asked Triffitt, who would vastly have
+preferred action to inaction. "Supposing--you know how things do and
+will turn out sometimes--supposing he came back?"
+
+Davidge shook his head and smiled grimly and knowingly.
+
+"No," he said. "He'll not come back--at least, if he did, we should be
+well warned. I've more than one man at work on this job, Mr. Triffitt,
+and if his lordship changed the course of his arrangements and returned
+this way, one of my chaps would keep him in conversation while another
+hurried up here to give us the office by a few taps on the outer door.
+No!--we're safe enough. Sit you down and don't bother about us. Come on,
+Jim--we'll get to it."
+
+Triffitt tried to follow the detective's advice--he was just then deep
+in a French novel of the high-crime order, and he picked it up when the
+two men had gone out on the balcony and endeavoured to get interested in
+it. But he speedily discovered that the unravelling of crime on paper
+was nothing like so fascinating as the actual participation in detection
+of crime in real life, and he threw the book aside and gave himself up
+to waiting. What were those two doing in Burchill's rooms? What were
+they finding? What would the result be?
+
+Certainly Davidge and his man took their time. Eight o'clock came and
+went--nine o'clock, ten o'clock followed and sped into the past, and
+they were still there. It was drawing near to eleven, and they had been
+in those rooms well over three hours, when a slight sound came at
+Triffitt's window and Davidge put his head in, to be presently followed
+by Milsey. Milsey looked as innocent as ever, but it seemed to Triffitt
+that Davidge looked grave.
+
+"Well?" said Triffitt. "Any luck?"
+
+Davidge drew the curtains over the balcony window before he turned and
+answered this question.
+
+"Mr. Triffitt," he said, when at last he faced round, "you'll have to
+put us up for the night. After what I've found, I'm not going to lose
+sight, or get out of touch with this man. Now listen, and I'll tell you,
+at any rate, something. Tomorrow morning at ten o'clock there's to be a
+sort of informal inquiry at Mr. Halfpenny's office into the matter of a
+will of the date of Jacob Herapath's--all the parties concerned are
+going to meet there, and I know that this man Burchill is to be present.
+I don't propose to lose sight of him after he returns here tonight
+until he goes to that office--what happens after he's once there, you
+shall see. So Milsey and I'll just have to trouble you to let me stop
+here for the night. You can go to your bed, of course--we'll sit up.
+I'll send Milsey out to buy a bit of supper for us--I dare say he'll
+find something open close by."
+
+"No need," Triffitt hastened to say. "I've a cold meat pie, uncut, and
+plenty of bread, and cheese. And there's bottled ale, and whisky, and
+I'll get you some supper ready at once. So"--he went on, as he began to
+bustle about--"you did find--something?"
+
+Davidge rubbed his hands and winked first at Milsey and then at
+Triffitt.
+
+"Wait till tomorrow!" he said. "There'll be strange news for you
+newspaper gentlemen before tomorrow night."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+YEA AND NAY
+
+
+Mr. Halfpenny, face to face with the fact that Barthorpe Herapath meant
+mischief about the will, put on his thinking-cap and gave himself up to
+a deep and serious consideration of the matter. He thought things over
+as he journeyed home to his house in the country; he spent an evening in
+further thought; he was still thinking when he went up to town next
+morning. The result of his cogitations was that after giving certain
+instructions in his office as to the next steps to be taken towards duly
+establishing Jacob Herapath's will, he went round to Barthorpe
+Herapath's office and asked to see him.
+
+Barthorpe himself came out of his private room and showed some
+politeness in ushering his caller within. His manner seemed to be
+genuinely frank and unaffected: Mr. Halfpenny was considerably puzzled
+by it. Was Barthorpe playing a part, or was all this real? That, of
+course, must be decided by events: Mr. Halfpenny was not going to lose
+any time in moving towards them, whatever they might turn out to be. He
+accordingly went straight to the point.
+
+"My dear sir," he began, bending confidentially towards Barthorpe, who
+had taken a seat at his desk and was waiting for his visitor to speak,
+"you have entered a caveat against the will in the Probate Registry."
+
+"I have," answered Barthorpe, with candid alacrity. "Of course!"
+
+"You intend to contest the matter?" inquired Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"Certainly!" replied Barthorpe.
+
+Mr. Halfpenny gathered a good deal from the firm and decisive tone in
+which this answer was made. Clearly there was something in the air of
+which he was wholly ignorant.
+
+"You no doubt believe that you have good reason for your course of
+action," he observed.
+
+"The best reasons," said Barthorpe.
+
+Mr. Halfpenny ruminated a little, silently.
+
+"After all," he said at last, "there are only two persons really
+concerned--your cousin, Miss Wynne, and yourself. I propose to make an
+offer to you."
+
+"Always willing to be reasonable, Mr. Halfpenny," answered Barthorpe.
+
+"Very good," said Mr. Halfpenny. "Of course, I see no possible reason for
+doubting the validity of the will. From our side, litigation must go on in
+the usual course. But I have a proposal to make to you. It is this--will
+you meet your cousin at my office, with all the persons--witnesses to the
+will, I mean--and state your objections to the will? In short, let us
+have what we may call a family discussion about it--it may prevent much
+litigation."
+
+Barthorpe considered this suggestion for a while.
+
+"What you really mean is that I should come to your offices and tell my
+cousin and you why I am fighting this will," he said eventually. "That
+it?"
+
+"Practically--yes," assented Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"Whom do you propose to have present?" asked Barthorpe.
+
+"Yourself, your cousin, myself, the two witnesses, and, as a friend of
+everybody concerned, Professor Cox-Raythwaite," replied Mr. Halfpenny.
+"No one else is necessary."
+
+"And you wish me to tell, plainly, why I refuse to believe that the will
+is genuine?" asked Barthorpe.
+
+"Certainly--yes," assented Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+Barthorpe hesitated, eyeing the old lawyer doubtfully.
+
+"It will be a painful business--for my cousin," he said.
+
+"If--I really haven't the faintest notion of what you mean!" exclaimed
+Mr. Halfpenny. "But if--if it will be painful for your cousin to hear
+this--whatever it is--in private, it would be much more painful for her
+to hear it in public. I gather, of course, that you have some strange
+revelation to make. Surely, it would be most considerate to her to make
+it in what we may call the privacy of the family circle, Cox-Raythwaite
+and myself."
+
+"I haven't the least objection to Cox-Raythwaite's presence, nor yours,"
+said Barthorpe. "Very good--I'll accept your proposal--it will, as you
+say, save a lot of litigation. Now--when?"
+
+"Today is Tuesday," said Mr. Halfpenny. "What do you say to next Friday
+morning, at ten o'clock?"
+
+"Friday will do," answered Barthorpe. "I will be there at ten o'clock. I
+shall leave it to you to summon all the parties concerned. By the by,
+have you Burchill's address?"
+
+"I have," replied Mr. Halfpenny. "I will communicate with him at once."
+
+Barthorpe nodded, rose from his seat, and walked with his visitor
+towards the door of his private room.
+
+"Understand, Mr. Halfpenny," he said, "I'm agreeing to this to oblige
+you. And if the truth is very painful to my cousin, well, as you say,
+it's better for her to hear it in private than in a court of justice.
+All right, then--Friday at ten."
+
+Mr. Halfpenny went back to his own office, astonished and marvelling.
+What on earth were these revelations which Barthorpe hinted at--these
+unpleasant truths which would so wound and hurt Peggie Wynne? Could it
+be possible that there really was some mystery about that will of which
+only Barthorpe knew the secret? It was incomprehensible to Mr. Halfpenny
+that any man could be so cool, so apparently cocksure about matters as
+Barthorpe was unless he felt absolutely certain of his own case. What
+that case could be, Mr. Halfpenny could not imagine--the only thing
+really certain was that Barthorpe seemed resolved on laying it bare when
+Friday came.
+
+"God bless me!--it's a most extraordinary complication altogether!"
+mused Mr. Halfpenny, once more alone in his own office. "It's very
+evident to me that Barthorpe Herapath is absolutely ignorant that he's
+suspected, and that the police are at work on him! What a surprise for
+him if the thing comes to a definite head, and--but let us see what
+Friday morning brings."
+
+Friday morning brought Barthorpe to Mr. Halfpenny's offices in good
+time. He came alone; a few minutes after his arrival Peggie Wynne,
+nervous and frightened, came, attended by Mr. Tertius and Professor
+Cox-Raythwaite. All these people were at once ushered into Mr.
+Halfpenny's private room, where polite, if constrained, greetings
+passed. At five minutes past ten o'clock Mr. Halfpenny looked at
+Barthorpe.
+
+"We're only waiting for Mr. Burchill," he remarked. "I wrote to him
+after seeing you, and I received a reply from him in which he promised
+to be here at ten this morning. It's now----"
+
+But at that moment the door opened to admit Mr. Frank Burchill, who, all
+unconscious of the fact that more than one pair of sharp eyes had
+followed him from his flat to Mr. Halfpenny's office, and that their
+owners were now in the immediate vicinity, came in full of polite
+self-assurance, and executed formal bows while he gracefully apologised
+to Mr. Halfpenny for being late.
+
+"It's all right, all right, Mr. Burchill," said the old lawyer, a little
+testy under the last-comer's polite phrases, all of which he thought
+unnecessary. "Five or ten minutes won't make any great difference. Take
+a seat, pray: I think if we all sit around this centre table of mine it
+will be more convenient. We can begin at once now, Mr. Barthorpe
+Herapath--I have already given strict instructions that we are not to be
+disturbed, on any account. My dear--perhaps you will sit here by
+me?--Mr. Tertius, you sit next to Miss Wynne--Professor----"
+
+Mr. Halfpenny's dispositions of his guests placed Peggie and her two
+companions on one side of a round table; Barthorpe and Burchill at the
+other--Mr. Halfpenny himself sat at the head. And as soon as he had
+taken his own seat, he looked at Barthorpe.
+
+"This, of course," he began, "is a quite informal meeting. We are here,
+as I understand matters, to hear why you, Mr. Barthorpe Herapath, object
+to your late uncle's will, and why you intend to dispute it. So I
+suppose the next thing to do will be to ask you to state your grounds."
+
+But Barthorpe shook his head with a decisive motion.
+
+"No," he answered. "Not at all! The first thing to do, Mr. Halfpenny, in
+my opinion, is to hear what is to be said in favour of the will. The
+will itself, I take it, is in your possession. I have seen it--I mean, I
+have seen the document which purports to be a will of the late Jacob
+Herapath--so I admit its existence. Two persons are named on that
+document as witnesses: Mr. Tertius, Mr. Burchill. They are both present
+now; at your request. I submit that the proper procedure is to question
+them both as to the circumstances under which this alleged will was
+made."
+
+"I have no objections to that," answered Mr. Halfpenny. "I have no
+objection--neither, I am sure, has Miss Wynne--to anything you propose.
+Well, we take it for granted that this document exists--it is, of
+course, in my safe keeping. Every person has seen it, one time or
+another. We have here the two gentlemen who witnessed Jacob Herapath's
+signature and each other's. So I will first ask the elder of the two to
+tell us what he recollects of the matter. Now, Mr. Tertius?"
+
+Mr. Tertius, who since his arrival had shown as much nervousness as
+would probably have signalised his appearance in a witness-box, started
+at this direct appeal.
+
+"You--er, wish me----" he began, with an almost blank stare at Mr.
+Halfpenny. "You want me to----"
+
+"Come, come!" said Mr. Halfpenny. "This is as I have already said, an
+informal gathering. We needn't have any set forms or cut-and-dried
+procedure. I want you--we all want you--to tell us what you remember
+about the making of Jacob Herapath's will. Tell us in your own way, in
+whatever terms you like. Then we shall hear what your fellow-witness has
+to say."
+
+"Perhaps you'll let me suggest something," broke in Barthorpe, who had
+obviously been thinking matters over. "Lay the alleged will on the table
+before you, Mr. Halfpenny--question the two opposed witnesses on it.
+That will simplify things."
+
+Mr. Halfpenny considered this proposition for a moment or two; then
+having whispered to Peggie and received her assent, he went across to a
+safe and presently returned with the will, which he placed on a
+writing-pad that lay in front of him.
+
+"Now, Mr. Tertius," he said. "Look at this will, which purports to have
+been made on the eighteenth day of April last. I understand that Jacob
+Herapath called you into his study on the evening of that day and told
+you that he wanted you and Mr. Burchill, his secretary, to witness his
+signature to a will which he had made--had written out himself. I
+understand also that you did witness his signature, attached your own,
+in Mr. Herapath's presence and Mr. Burchill's presence, and that Mr.
+Burchill's signature was attached under the same conditions. Am I right
+in all this?"
+
+"Quite right," replied Mr. Tertius. "Quite!"
+
+"Is this the document which Jacob Herapath produced?"
+
+"It is--certainly."
+
+"Was it all drawn out then?--I am putting these questions to you quite
+informally."
+
+"It was all written out, except the signatures. Jacob showed us that it
+was so written, though he did not allow us to see the wording. But he
+showed us plainly that there was nothing to do but to sign. Then he laid
+it on the desk, covered most of the sheet of paper with a piece of
+blotting paper and signed his name in our presence--I stood on one side
+of him, Mr. Burchill on the other. Then Mr. Burchill signed in his
+place--beneath mine."
+
+"And this," asked Mr. Halfpenny, pointing to the will, "this is your
+signature?"
+
+"Most certainly!" answered Mr. Tertius.
+
+"And this," continued Mr. Halfpenny, "is Jacob Herapath's?--and this Mr.
+Burchill's? You have no doubt about it?"
+
+"No more than that I see and hear you," replied Mr. Tertius. "I have no
+doubt."
+
+Mr. Halfpenny turned from Mr. Tertius to Barthorpe Herapath. But
+Barthorpe's face just then revealed nothing. Therefore the old lawyer
+turned towards Burchill. And suddenly a sharp idea struck him. He would
+settle one point to his own satisfaction at once, by one direct
+question. And so he--as it were by impulse--thrust the will before and
+beneath Burchill's eyes, and placed his finger against the third
+signature.
+
+"Mr. Burchill," he said, "is that your writing?"
+
+Burchill, calm and self-possessed, glanced at the place which Mr.
+Halfpenny indicated, and then lifted his eyes, half sadly, half
+deprecatingly.
+
+"No!" he replied, with a little shake of the head; "No, Mr. Halfpenny, it
+is not!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+THE ACCUSATION
+
+
+The old lawyer, who had bent forward across the table in speaking to
+Burchill, pulled himself up sharply on receiving this answer, and for a
+second or two stared with a keen, searching gaze at the man he had
+questioned, who, on his part, returned the stare with calm assurance. A
+deep silence had fallen on the room; nothing broke it until Professor
+Cox-Raythwaite suddenly began to tap the table with the ends of his
+fingers. The sound roused Mr. Halfpenny to speech and action. He bent
+forward again towards Burchill, once more laying a hand on the will.
+
+"That is not your signature?" he asked quietly.
+
+Burchill shook his head--this time with a gesture of something very like
+contempt.
+
+"It is not!" he answered.
+
+"Did you see the late Jacob Herapath write--that?"
+
+"I did not!"
+
+"Did you see Mr. Tertius write--that?"
+
+"I did not!"
+
+"Have you ever seen this will, this document, before?"
+
+"Never!"
+
+Mr. Halfpenny drew the will towards himself with an impatient movement
+and began to replace it in the large envelope from which it had been
+taken.
+
+"In short, you never assisted at the execution of this document--never
+saw Jacob Herapath make any will--never witnessed any signature of his
+to this?" he said testily. "That's what you really say--what you
+affirm?"
+
+"Just so," replied Burchill. "You apprehend me exactly."
+
+"Yet you have just heard what Mr. Tertius says! What do you say to that,
+Mr. Burchill?"
+
+"I say nothing to that, Mr. Halfpenny. I have nothing to do with what
+Mr. Tertius says. I have answered your questions."
+
+"Mr. Tertius says that he and you saw Jacob Herapath sign that document,
+saw each other sign it! What you say now gives Mr. Tertius the direct
+lie, and----"
+
+"Pardon me, Mr. Halfpenny," interrupted Burchill quietly. "Mr. Tertius
+may be under some strange misapprehension; Mr. Tertius may be suffering
+from some curious hallucination. What I say is--I did not see the late
+Jacob Herapath sign that paper; I did not sign it myself; I did not see
+Mr. Tertius sign it; I have never seen it before!"
+
+Mr. Halfpenny made a little snorting sound, got up from his chair,
+picked up the envelope which contained the will, walked over to his
+safe, deposited the envelope in some inner receptacle, came back,
+produced his snuff-box, took a hearty pinch of its contents, snorted
+again, and looked hard at Barthorpe.
+
+"I don't see the least use in going on with this!" he said. "We have
+heard what Mr. Tertius, as one witness, says; we have heard what Mr.
+Frank Burchill, as the other witness, says. Mr. Tertius says that he saw
+the will executed in Mr. Burchill's presence; Mr. Burchill denies that
+in the fullest and most unqualified fashion. Why waste more time? We had
+better separate."
+
+But Barthorpe laughed, maliciously.
+
+"Scarcely!" he said. "You brought us here. It was your own proposal. I
+assented. And now that we are here, and you have heard--what you have
+heard--I'm going to have my say. You have gone, all along, Mr.
+Halfpenny, on the assumption that the piece of paper which you have just
+replaced in your safe is a genuine will. That's what you've said--I
+believe it's what you say now. I don't say so!"
+
+"What do you say it is, then?" demanded Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+Barthorpe slightly lowered his voice.
+
+"I say it's a forgery!" he answered. "That, I hope, is plain language. A
+forgery--from the first word to its last."
+
+"Oh!" exclaimed Mr. Halfpenny, a little sneeringly. "And who's the
+forger, pray?"
+
+"That man, there!" said Barthorpe, suddenly pointing to Mr. Tertius.
+"He's the forger! I accuse him to his face of forging every word, every
+letter of it from the first stroke to the final one. And I'll give you
+enough evidence to prove it--enough evidence, at any rate, to prove it
+to any reasonable man or before a judge and jury. Forgery, I tell you!"
+
+Mr. Halfpenny sat down again and became very calm and judicial. And he
+had at once to restrain Peggie Wynne, who during Barthorpe's last speech
+had manifested signs of a desire to speak, and had begun to produce a
+sealed packet from her muff.
+
+"Wait, my dear," said Mr. Halfpenny. "Do not speak just now--you shall
+have an opportunity later--leave this to me at present. So you say you
+can prove that this will is a forgery, Mr. Barthorpe Herapath?" he
+continued, turning to the other side of the table. "Very well--since I
+suggested that you should come here, you shall certainly have the
+opportunity. But just allow me to ask Mr. Tertius a question--Tertius,
+you have heard what Mr. Frank Burchill has just said?"
+
+"I have!" replied Mr. Tertius. "And--I am amazed!"
+
+"You stand by what you said yourself? You gave us a perfectly truthful
+account of the execution of the will?"
+
+"I stand by every word I said. I gave you--will give it again,
+anywhere!--a perfectly truthful account of the circumstances under which
+the will was signed and witnessed. I have made no mistakes--I am under
+no hallucination. I am--astonished!"
+
+Mr. Halfpenny turned to Barthorpe with a wave of the hand.
+
+"We are at your disposal, Mr. Barthorpe Herapath," he said. "I leave
+the rest of these proceedings to you. You have openly and unqualifiedly
+accused Mr. Tertius of forging the will which we have all seen, and have
+said you can prove your accusations. Perhaps you'd better do it. Mind
+you!" he added, with a sudden heightening of tone, "mind you, I'm not
+asking you to prove anything. But if I know Tertius--and I think I
+do--he won't object to your saying anything you like--we shall, perhaps,
+get at the truth by way of what you say. So--say on!"
+
+"You're very kind," retorted Barthorpe. "I shall say on! But--I warned
+you--what I've got to say will give a good deal of pain to my cousin
+there. It would have been far better if you'd kept her out of this--still,
+she'd have had to hear it sooner or later in a court of justice----"
+
+"It strikes me we shall have to hear a good deal in a court of
+justice--as you say, sooner or later," interrupted Mr. Halfpenny, dryly.
+"So I don't think you need spare Miss Wynne. I should advise you to go
+on, and let us become acquainted with what you've got to tell us."
+
+"Barthorpe!" said Peggie, "I do not mind what pain you give me--you
+can't give me much more than I've already been given this morning. But I
+wish"--she turned appealingly to Mr. Halfpenny and again began to draw
+the sealed packet from her muff--"I do wish, Mr. Halfpenny, you'd let me
+say something before----"
+
+"Say nothing, my dear, at present," commanded Mr. Halfpenny, firmly.
+"Allow Mr. Barthorpe Herapath to have his say. Now, sir!" he went on,
+with a motion of his hand towards the younger solicitor. "Pray let us
+hear you."
+
+"In my own fashion," retorted Barthorpe. "You're not a judge, you know.
+Very good--if I give pain to you, Peggie, it's not my fault. Now, Mr.
+Halfpenny," he continued, turning and pointing contemptuously to Mr.
+Tertius, "as this is wholly informal, I'll begin with an informal yet
+pertinent question, to you. Do you know who that man really is?"
+
+"I believe that gentleman, sir, to be Mr. John Christopher Tertius, and
+my very good and much-esteemed friend," replied Mr. Halfpenny, with
+asperity.
+
+"Pshaw!" sneered Barthorpe. He turned to Professor Cox-Raythwaite. "I'll
+put the same question to you?" he said. "Do you know who he is?"
+
+"And I give you the same answer, sir," answered the professor.
+
+"No doubt!" said Barthorpe, still sneeringly. "The fact is, neither of
+you know who he is. So I'll tell you. He's an ex-convict. He served a
+term of penal servitude for forgery--forgery, do you hear? And his real
+name is not Tertius. What it is, and who he really is, and all about
+him, I'm going to tell you. Forger--ex-convict--get that into your
+minds, all of you. For it's true!"
+
+Mr. Tertius, who had started visibly as Barthorpe rapped out the first
+of his accusations, and had grown paler as they went on, quietly rose
+from his chair.
+
+"Before this goes further, Halfpenny," he said, "I should like to have a
+word in private with Miss Wynne. Afterwards--and I shan't detain her
+more than a moment--I shall have no objection to hearing anything that
+Mr. Barthorpe Herapath has to say. My dear!--step this way with me a
+moment, I beg."
+
+Mr. Halfpenny's private room was an apartment of considerable size,
+having in it two large recessed windows. Into one of these Mr. Tertius
+led Peggie, and there he spoke a few quiet words to her. Barthorpe
+Herapath affected to take no notice, but the other men, watching them
+closely, saw the girl start at something which Mr. Tertius said. But she
+instantly regained her self-possession and composure, and when she came
+back to the table her face, though pale, was firm and resolute. And
+Barthorpe looked at her then, and his voice, when he spoke again, was
+less aggressive and more civil.
+
+"It's not to my taste to bring unpleasant family scandals into public
+notice," he said, "and that's why I rather welcomed your proposal that
+we should discuss this affair in private, Mr. Halfpenny. And now for
+what I've got to tell you. I shall have to go back a long way in our
+family history. My late uncle, Jacob Herapath, was the eldest of the
+three children of his father, Matthew Herapath, who was a medical
+practitioner at Granchester in Yorkshire--a small town on the Yorkshire
+and Lancashire border. The three children were Jacob, Richard, and
+Susan. With the main outlines of Jacob Herapath's career I believe we
+are all fairly well acquainted. He came to London as a youth, and he
+prospered, and became what we know him to have been. Richard, my father,
+went out to Canada, when he was very young, settled there, and there he
+died.
+
+"Now we come to Susan, the only daughter. Susan Herapath, at the age of
+twenty, married a man named Wynne--Arthur John Wynne, who at that time
+was about twenty-five years of age, was the secretary and treasurer of a
+recently formed railway--a sort of branch railway on the coast, which
+had its head office at Southampton, a coast town. In Southampton, this
+Arthur John Wynne and his wife settled down. At the end of a year their
+first child was born--my cousin Margaret, who is here with us. When
+she--I am putting all this as briefly as I can--when she was about
+eighteen months old a sad affair happened. Wynne, who had been living in
+a style very much above his position, was suddenly arrested on a charge
+of forgery. Investigations proved that he had executed a number of most
+skilful and clever forgeries, by which he had defrauded his employers of
+a large--a very large--amount of money. He was sent for trial to the
+assizes at Lancaster, he was found guilty, and he was sentenced to seven
+years' penal servitude. And almost at once after the trial his wife
+died.
+
+"Here my late uncle, Jacob Herapath, came forward. He went north,
+assumed possession and guardianship of the child, and took her away from
+Southampton. He took her into Buckinghamshire and there placed her in
+the care of some people named Bristowe, who were farmers near Aylesbury
+and whom he knew very well. In the care of Mrs. Bristowe, the child
+remained until she was between six and seven years old. Then she was
+removed to Jacob Herapath's own house in Portman Square, where she has
+remained ever since. My cousin, I believe, has a very accurate
+recollection of her residence with the Bristowes, and she will remember
+being brought from Buckinghamshire to London at the time I have spoken
+of."
+
+Barthorpe paused for a moment and looked at Peggie. But Peggie, who was
+listening intently with downcast head, made no remark, and he presently
+continued.
+
+"Now, not so very long after that--I mean, after the child was brought
+to Portman Square--another person came to the house as a permanent
+resident. His name was given to the servants as Mr. Tertius. The
+conditions of his residence were somewhat peculiar. He had rooms of his
+own; he did as he liked. Sometimes he joined Jacob Herapath at meals;
+sometimes he did not. There was an air of mystery about him. What was
+it? I will tell you in a word--the mystery or its secret, was this--the
+man Tertius, who sits there now, was in reality the girl's father! He
+was Arthur John Wynne, the ex-convict--the clever forger!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+COLD STEEL
+
+
+The two men who formed what one may call the alien and impartial audience
+at that table were mutually and similarly impressed by a certain feature
+of Barthorpe Herapath's speech--its exceeding malevolence. As he went on
+from sentence to sentence, his eyes continually turned to Mr. Tertius,
+who sat, composed and impassive, listening, and in them was a gleam
+which could not be mistaken--the gleam of bitter, personal dislike. Mr.
+Halfpenny and Professor Cox-Raythwaite both saw that look and drew their
+own conclusions, and when Barthorpe spat out his last words, the man of
+science turned to the man of law and muttered a sharp sentence in Latin
+which no one else caught. And Mr. Halfpenny nodded and muttered a word
+or two back before he turned to Barthorpe.
+
+"Even supposing--mind, I only say supposing--even supposing you are
+correct in all you say--and I don't know that you are," he said, "what you
+have put before us does nothing to prove that the will which we have just
+inspected is not what we believe it to be--we, at any rate--the valid will
+of Jacob Herapath. You know as well as I do that you'd have to give
+stronger grounds than that before a judge and jury."
+
+"I'll give you my grounds," answered Barthorpe eagerly. He bent over the
+table in his eagerness, and the old lawyer suddenly realized that
+Barthorpe genuinely believed himself to be in the right. "I'll give you
+my grounds without reserve. Consider them--I'll check them off, point by
+point--you can follow them:
+
+"First. It was well known--to me, at any rate, that my uncle Jacob
+Herapath, had never made a will.
+
+"Second. Is it not probable that if he wanted to make a will he would
+have employed me, who had acted as his solicitor for fifteen years?
+
+"Third. I had a conversation with him about making a will just under a
+year ago, and he then said he'd have it done, and he mentioned that he
+should divide his estate equally between me and my cousin there.
+
+"Fourth. Mr. Burchill here absolutely denies all knowledge of this
+alleged will.
+
+"Fifth. My uncle's handwriting, as you all know, was exceedingly plain
+and very easy to imitate. Burchill's handwriting is similarly plain--of
+the copperplate sort--and just as easy to imitate.
+
+"Sixth. That man across there is an expert forger! I have the account of
+his trial at Lancaster Assizes--the evidence shows that his work was most
+expert. Is it likely that his hand should have lost its cunning--even
+after several years?
+
+"Seventh. That man there had every opportunity of forging this will.
+With his experience and knowledge it would be a simple matter to him. He
+did it with the idea of getting everything into the hands of his own
+daughter, of defrauding me of my just rights. Since my uncle's death he
+has made two attempts to see Burchill privately--why? To square him, of
+course! And----"
+
+Mr. Tertius, who had been gazing at the table while Barthorpe went
+through these points, suddenly lifted his head and looked at Mr.
+Halfpenny. His usual nervousness seemed to have left him, and there was
+something very like a smile of contempt about his lips when he spoke.
+
+"I think, Halfpenny," he said quietly, "I really think it is time all
+this extraordinary farce--for it is nothing less!--came to an end. May I
+be permitted to ask Mr. Barthorpe Herapath a few questions?"
+
+"So far as I am concerned, as many as you please, Tertius," replied Mr.
+Halfpenny. "Whether he'll answer them or not is another matter. He ought
+to."
+
+"I shall answer them if I please, and I shall not answer them if I don't
+want to," said Barthorpe sullenly. "You can put them, anyway. But
+they'll make no difference--I know what I'm talking about."
+
+"So do I," said Mr. Tertius. "And really, as we come here to get at the
+truth, it will be all the better for everybody concerned if you do
+answer my questions. Now--you say I am in reality Arthur Wynne, the
+father of your cousin, the brother-in-law of Jacob Herapath. What you
+have said about Arthur John Wynne is unfortunately only too true. It is
+true that he erred and was punished--severely. In due course he went to
+Portland. I want to ask you what became of him afterwards?--you say you
+have full knowledge."
+
+"You mean, what became of you afterwards," sneered Barthorpe. "I know
+when you left Portland. You left it for London--and you came to London
+to be sheltered, under your assumed name, by Jacob Herapath."
+
+"No more than that?" asked Mr. Tertius.
+
+"That's enough," answered Barthorpe. "You left Portland in April, 1897;
+you came to London when you were discharged; in June of that year you'd
+taken up your residence under Jacob Herapath's roof. And it's no use
+your trying to bluff me--I've traced your movements!"
+
+"With the aid, no doubt, of Mr. Burchill there," observed Mr. Tertius,
+dryly. "But----"
+
+Burchill drew himself up.
+
+"Sir!" he exclaimed. "That is an unwarrantable assumption, and----"
+
+"Unwarrantable assumptions, Mr. Burchill, appear to be present in great
+quantity," interrupted Mr. Tertius, with an air of defiance which
+surprised everybody. "Don't you interrupt me, sir!--I'll deal with you
+before long in a way that will astonish you. Now, Mr. Barthorpe
+Herapath," he went on, turning to that person with determination, "I
+will astonish you somewhat, for I honestly believe you really have some
+belief in what you say. I am not Arthur John Wynne. I am what I have
+always been--John Christopher Tertius, as a considerable number of
+people in this town can prove. But I knew Arthur John Wynne. When he
+left Portland he came to me here in London--at the suggestion of Jacob
+Herapath. I then lived in Bloomsbury--I had recently lost my wife. I
+took Wynne to live with me. But he had not long to live. If you had
+searched into matters more deeply, you would have found that he got his
+discharge earlier than he would have done in the usual course, because
+of his health. As a matter of fact, he was very ill when he came to me,
+and he died six weeks after his arrival at my house. He is buried in the
+churchyard of the village from which he originally came--in Wales--and
+you can inspect all the documents relating to his death, and see his
+grave if you care to. After his death, for reasons into which I need not
+go, I went to live with Jacob Herapath. It was his great desire--and
+mine--that Wynne's daughter, your cousin, should never know her father's
+sad history. But for you she never would have known it! And--that is a
+plain answer to what you have had to allege against me. Now, sir, let me
+ask you a plain question. Who invented this cock-and-bull story? You
+don't reply--readily? Shall I assist you by a suggestion? Was it that
+man who sits by you--Burchill? For Burchill knows that he has lied
+vilely and shamelessly this morning--Burchill knows that he did see
+Jacob Herapath sign that will--Burchill knows that that will was duly
+witnessed by himself and by me in the presence of each other and of the
+testator! God bless my soul!" exclaimed Mr. Tertius, thumping the table
+vehemently. "Why, man alive, your cousin Margaret has a document here
+which proves that that will is all right--a document written by Jacob
+Herapath himself! Bring it out, my dear--confound these men with an
+indisputable proof!"
+
+But before Peggie could draw the packet from her muff, Burchill had
+risen and was showing signs of retreat. And Barthorpe, now pale with
+anger and perplexity, had risen too--and he was looking at Burchill.
+
+Mr. Halfpenny looked at both men. Then he pointed to their chairs.
+"Hadn't you better sit down again?" he said. "It seems to me that we're
+just arriving at the most interesting stage of these proceedings."
+
+Burchill stepped towards the door.
+
+"I do not propose to stay in company in which I am ruthlessly insulted,"
+he said. "It is, of course, a question of my word against Mr. Tertius's.
+We shall see. As for the present, I do."
+
+"Stop!" said Barthorpe. He moved towards Burchill, motioning him towards
+the window in which Peggie and Mr. Tertius had spoken together. "Here--a
+word with you!"
+
+But Burchill made for the door, and Mr. Halfpenny nudged Professor
+Cox-Raythwaite.
+
+"I say--stop!" exclaimed Barthorpe. "There's some explanation----"
+
+He was about to lay a hand on the door when Mr. Halfpenny touched a
+bell which stood in front of him on the table. And at its sharp sound
+the door opened from without, and Burchill fell back at what he
+saw--fell back upon Barthorpe, who looked past him, and started in his
+turn.
+
+"Great Scot!" said Barthorpe. "Police!"
+
+Davidge came quickly and quietly in--three other men with him. And in
+the room from which they emerged Barthorpe saw more men, many more men,
+and with them an eager, excited face which he somehow recognized--the
+face of the little _Argus_ reporter who had asked him and Selwood for
+news on the morning after Jacob Herapath's murder.
+
+But Barthorpe had no time to waste thoughts on Triffitt. He suddenly
+became alive to the fact that two exceedingly strong men had seized his
+arms; that two others had similarly seized Burchill. The pallor died out
+of his face and gave place to a dull glow of anger.
+
+"Now, then?" he growled. "What's all this!"
+
+"The same for both of you, Mr. Herapath," answered Davidge, cheerfully
+and in business-like fashion. "I'll charge both you and Mr. Burchill
+formally when we've got you to the station. You're both under arrest,
+you know. And I may as well warn you----"
+
+"Nonsense!" exclaimed Barthorpe. "Arrest!--on what charge?"
+
+"Charge will be the same for both," answered Davidge coolly. "The murder
+of Jacob Herapath."
+
+A dead silence fell on the room. Then Peggie Wynne cried out, and
+Barthorpe suddenly made a spring at Burchill.
+
+"You villain!" he said in a low concentrated voice. "You've done me, you
+devil! Let me get my hands on----"
+
+The other men, Triffitt on their heels, came bustling into the room,
+obedient to Davidge's lifted finger.
+
+"Put the handcuffs on both of 'em," commanded Davidge. "Can't take any
+chances, Mr. Herapath, if you lose your temper--the other gentleman----"
+
+It was at that moment that the other gentleman took his chance. While
+Barthorpe Herapath had foolishly allowed himself to become warm and
+excited, Burchill had remained cool and watchful and calculating. And now
+in the slight diversion made by the entrance of the other detectives, he
+suddenly and adroitly threw off the grasp of the men who held him, darted
+through the open door on to the stairs, and had vanished before Davidge
+could cry out. Davidge darted too, the other police darted, Mr. Halfpenny
+smote his bell and shouted to his clerks. But the clerks were downstairs,
+out of hearing, and the police were fleshy men, slow of movement, while
+Burchill was slippery as an eel and agile as an athlete. Moreover,
+Burchill, during his secretaryship to Jacob Herapath, had constantly
+visited Mr. Halfpenny's office, and was as well acquainted with its ins
+and outs as its tenant; he knew where, in those dark stairs there was
+a side stair which led to a private door in a neighbouring alley. And
+while the pursuers blundered this way and that, he calmly slipped out to
+freedom, and, in a couple of minutes was mingling with the crowds in a
+busy thoroughfare, safe for that time.
+
+Then Davidge, cursing his men and his luck, took Barthorpe Herapath away,
+and Triffitt rushed headlong to Fleet Street, seething with excitement and
+brimming with news.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+PROFESSIONAL ANALYSIS
+
+
+The _Argus_ came out in great style next morning, and it and Triffitt
+continued to give its vast circle of readers a similar feast of
+excitement for a good ten days. Triffitt, in fact, went almost foodless
+and sleepless; there was so much to do. To begin with, there was the
+daily hue and cry after Burchill, who had disappeared as completely as
+if his familiar evil spirits had carried him bodily away from the very
+door of Halfpenny and Farthing's office. Then there was the bringing up
+of Barthorpe Herapath before the magistrate at Bow Street, and the
+proceedings at the adjourned coroner's inquest. It was not until the
+tenth day that anything like a breathing space came. But the position of
+affairs on that tenth day was a fairly clear one. The coroner's jury had
+returned a verdict of wilful murder against Barthorpe Herapath and Frank
+Burchill; the magistrate had committed Barthorpe for trial; the police
+were still hunting high and low for Burchill. And there was scarcely a
+soul who had heard the evidence before the coroner and the magistrate
+who did not believe that both the suspected men were guilty and that
+both--when Burchill had been caught--would ere long stand in the Old
+Bailey dock and eventually hear themselves sentenced to the scaffold.
+
+One man, however, believed nothing of the sort, and that man was
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite. His big, burly form had been very much in
+evidence at all the proceedings before coroner and magistrate. He had
+followed every scrap of testimony with the most scrupulous care; he had
+made notes from time to time; he had given up his leisure moments, and
+stolen some from his proper pursuits, to a deep consideration of the
+case as presented by the police. And on the afternoon which saw
+Barthorpe committed to take his trial, he went away from Bow Street,
+alone, thinking more deeply than ever. He walked home to his house in
+Endsleigh Gardens, head bent, hands clasped behind his big back, the
+very incarnation of deep and ponderous musing. He shut himself in his
+study; he threw himself into his easy chair before his hearth; he
+remained smoking infinite tobacco, staring into vacancy, until his
+dinner-bell rang. He roused himself to eat and drink; then he went out
+into the street, bought all the evening newspapers he could lay hands
+on, and, hailing a taxi-cab, drove to Portman Square.
+
+Peggie, Mr. Tertius, and Selwood had just dined; they were sitting in a
+quiet little parlour, silent and melancholy. The disgrace of Barthorpe's
+arrest, of the revelations before coroner and magistrate, of his
+committal on the capital charge, had reduced Peggie to a state of
+intense misery; the two men felt hopelessly unable to give her any
+comfort. To both, the entrance of Cox-Raythwaite came as a positive
+relief.
+
+Cox-Raythwaite, shown into the presence of these three, closed the door
+in a fashion which showed that he did not wish to be disturbed, came
+silently across the room, and drew a chair into the midst of the
+disconsolate group. His glance round commanded attention.
+
+"Now, my friends," he said, plunging straight into his subject, "if we
+don't wish to see Barthorpe hanged, we've just got to stir ourselves!
+I've come here to begin the stirring."
+
+Peggie looked up with a sudden heightening of colour. Mr. Tertius slowly
+shook his head.
+
+"Pitiable!" he murmured. "Pitiable, most pitiable! But the evidence, my
+dear Cox-Raythwaite, the evidence! I only wish----"
+
+"I've been listening to all the evidence that could be brought before
+coroner's jury and magistrate in police court," broke in the Professor.
+"Listening with all my ears until I know every scrap of it by heart. And
+for four solid hours this afternoon I've been analysing it. I'm going to
+analyse it to you--and then I'll show you why it doesn't satisfy me.
+Give me your close attention, all of you."
+
+He drew a little table to his elbow, laid his bundle of papers upon it,
+and began to talk, checking off his points on the tips of his big,
+chemical-stained fingers.
+
+"Now," he said, "we'll just go through the evidence which has been
+brought against these two men, Barthorpe and Burchill, which evidence
+has resulted in Barthorpe being committed for trial and in the police's
+increased anxiety to lay hold of Burchill. The police theory, after all,
+is a very simple one--let's take it and their evidence point by point.
+
+ "1. The police say that Jacob Herapath came to his death
+ as the result of a conspiracy between his nephew
+ Barthorpe Herapath and Frank Burchill.
+
+ "2. They say that the proof that that conspiracy existed
+ is found in certain documents discovered by Davidge at
+ Burchill's flat, in which documents Barthorpe
+ covenants to pay Burchill ten per cent. of the value
+ of the Herapath property if and when he, Barthorpe,
+ comes into it.
+
+ "3. The police argue that this conspiracy to murder Jacob
+ Herapath and upset the will was in existence before
+ November 12th--in other words that the idea of
+ upsetting the will came first, and that the murder
+ arose out of it.
+
+ "4. In support of this they have proved that Barthorpe was
+ in close touch with Burchill as soon as the murder was
+ committed--afternoon of the same day, at any rate--and
+ therefore presumably had been in close touch with him
+ previously.
+
+ "5. They have proved to the full a certain matter about
+ which there is no doubt--that Barthorpe was at the
+ estate office about the time at which, according to
+ medical evidence, his uncle was murdered, that he
+ subsequently put on his uncle's coat and hat and
+ visited this house, and afterwards returned to the
+ estate office. That, I say, is certain--and it is the
+ most damning thing against Barthorpe.
+
+ "6. According to the police, then, Barthorpe was the
+ actual murderer, and Burchill was an accessory before
+ the fact. There is no evidence that Burchill was near
+ the estate office that night. But that, of course,
+ doesn't matter--if, as the police suggest, there is
+ evidence that the conspiracy to kill Jacob Herapath
+ existed before November 12th, then it doesn't matter
+ at all whether Burchill took an active part in it or
+ not--he's guilty as accessory."
+
+The Professor here paused and smote his bundle of papers. Then he lifted
+and wagged one of his great fingers.
+
+"But!" he exclaimed. "But--but--always a but! And the but in this case
+is a mighty one. It's this--did that conspiracy exist before November
+12th? Did it--did it? It's a great point--it's a great point. Now, we
+all know that this morning, before he was committed, Barthorpe, much
+against the wishes of his legal advisers, insisted, forcibly insisted,
+on making a statement. It's in the evening papers here, verbatim. I'll
+read it to you carefully--you heard him, all of you, but I want you to
+hear it again, read slowly. Consider it--think of it carefully--remember
+the circumstances under which it's made!"
+
+He turned to the table, selected a newspaper, and read:
+
+ "'The accused, having insisted, in spite of evident
+ strong dissuasion from his counsel, upon making a
+ statement, said: "I wish to tell the plain and absolute
+ truth about my concern with this affair. I have heard
+ the evidence given by various witnesses as to my
+ financial position. That evidence is more or less true. I
+ lost a lot of money last winter in betting and gambling.
+ I was not aware that my position was known to my uncle
+ until one of these witnesses revealed that my uncle had
+ been employing private inquiry agents to find it out. I
+ was meaning, when his death occurred, to make a clean
+ breast to him. I was on the best of terms with
+ him--whatever he may have known, it made no difference
+ that I ever noticed in his behaviour to me. I was not
+ aware that my uncle had made a will. He never mentioned
+ it to me. About a year ago, there was some joking
+ conversation between us about making a will, and I said
+ to him that he ought to do it, and give me the job, and
+ he replied, laughingly, that he supposed he would have
+ to, some time. I solemnly declare that on November 12th I
+ hadn't the ghost of a notion that he had made a will.
+
+ "'"On November 12th last, about five o'clock in the
+ afternoon, I received a note from my uncle, asking me to
+ meet him at his estate office, at midnight. I had often
+ met him there at that time--there was nothing unusual
+ about such an appointment. I went there, of course--I
+ walked there from my flat in the Adelphi. I noticed when I
+ got there that my uncle's brougham was being slowly driven
+ round the square across the road. The outer door of the
+ office was slightly open. I was surprised. The usual thing
+ when I made late calls was for me to ring a bell which
+ sounded in my uncle's private room, and he then came and
+ admitted me. I went in, and down the hall, and I then saw
+ that the door of his room was also open. The electric
+ light was burning. I went in. I at once saw my uncle--he
+ was lying between the desk and the hearth, quite dead.
+ There was a revolver lying near. I touched his hand and
+ found it was quite warm.
+
+ "'"I looked round, and seeing no sign of any struggle, I
+ concluded that my uncle had shot himself. I noticed that
+ his keys were lying on the desk. His fur-collared overcoat
+ and slouch hat were thrown on a sofa. Of course, I was
+ much upset. I went outside, meaning, I believe, to call
+ the caretaker. Everything was very still in the house. I
+ did not call. I began to think. I knew I was in a strange
+ position. I knew my uncle's death would make a vast
+ difference to me. I was next of kin. I wanted to know how
+ things stood--how I was left. Something suggested itself
+ to me. I think the overcoat and hat suggested it. I put on
+ the hat and coat, took the keys from the table, and the
+ latch-key of the Portman Square house from my uncle's
+ waistcoat pocket, turned out the light, went out, closed
+ both doors, went to the brougham, and was driven away. I
+ saw very well that the coachman didn't know me at all--he
+ thought I was his master.
+
+ "'"I have heard the evidence about my visit to Portman
+ Square. I stopped there some time. I made a fairly
+ complete search for a will and didn't find anything. It is
+ quite true that I used one of the glasses, and ate a
+ sandwich, and very likely I did bite into another. It's
+ true, too, that I have lost two front teeth, and that the
+ evidence of that could be in the sandwich. All that's
+ true--I admit it. It's also quite true that I got the
+ taxi-cab at two o'clock at the corner of Orchard Street
+ and drove back to Kensington. I re-entered the office;
+ everything was as I'd left it. I took off the coat and
+ hat, put the keys under some loose papers on the table,
+ turned out the light and went home to my flat.
+
+ "'"Now I wish to tell the absolute, honest truth about
+ Burchill and the will. When I heard of and saw the will,
+ after Mr. Tertius produced it, I went to see Burchill at
+ his flat. I had never seen him, never communicated with
+ him in any way whatever since he had left my uncle's
+ service until that afternoon. I had got his address from a
+ letter which I found in a pocket-book of my uncle's, which
+ I took possession of when the police and I searched his
+ effects. I went to see Burchill about the will, of course.
+ When I said that a will had been found he fenced with me.
+ He would only reply ambiguously. Eventually he asked me,
+ point-blank, if I would make it worth his while if he
+ aided me in upsetting the will. I replied that if he
+ could--which I doubted--I would. He told me to call at ten
+ o'clock that night. I did so. He then told me what I had
+ never suspected--that Mr. Tertius was, in reality, Arthur
+ John Wynne, a convicted forger. He gave me his proofs, and
+ I was fool enough to believe them. He then suggested that
+ it would be the easiest thing in the world, considering
+ Wynne's record, to prove that he had forged the will for
+ his daughter's benefit. He offered to aid in this if I
+ would sign documents giving him ten per cent. of the total
+ value of my uncle's estate, and I was foolish enough to
+ consent, and to sign. I solemnly declare that the entire
+ suggestion about upsetting the will came from Burchill,
+ and that there was no conspiracy between us of any sort
+ whatever previous to that night. Whatever may happen, I've
+ told this court the absolute, definite truth!"'"
+
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite folded up the newspaper, laid it on the little
+table, and brought his big hand down on his knee with an emphatic smack.
+
+"Now, then!" he said. "In my deliberate, coldly reasoned opinion, that
+statement is true! If they hang Barthorpe, they'll hang an innocent man.
+But----"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+THE REMAND PRISON
+
+
+Mr. Tertius broke the significant silence which followed. He shook his
+head sadly, and sighed deeply.
+
+"Ah, those buts!" he said. "As you remarked just now, Cox-Raythwaite,
+there is always a but. Now, this particular one--what is it?"
+
+"Let me finish my sentence," responded the Professor. "I say, I do not
+believe Barthorpe to be guilty of murder, though guilty enough of a
+particularly mean, dirty, and sneaking conspiracy to defraud his cousin.
+Yes, innocent of murder--but it will be a stiff job to prove his
+innocence. As things stand, he'll be hanged safe enough! You know what
+our juries are, Tertius--evidence such as that which has been put before
+the coroner and the magistrate will be quite sufficient to damn him at
+the Old Bailey. Ample!"
+
+"What do you suggest, then?" asked Mr. Tertius.
+
+"Suggestion," answered the Professor, "is a difficult matter. But there
+are two things--perhaps more, but certainly two--on which I want light.
+The first is--nobody has succeeded in unearthing the man who went to the
+House of Commons to see Jacob on the night of the murder. In spite of
+everything, advertisements and all the rest of it, he's never come
+forward. If you remember, Halfpenny had a theory that the letter and
+the object which Mountain saw Jacob hand to that man were a note to the
+Safe Deposit people and the key of the safe. Now we know that's not so,
+because no one ever brought any letter to the Safe Deposit people and
+nobody's ever opened the safe. Halfpenny, too, believed, during the
+period of the police officials' masterly silence, that that man had put
+himself in communication with them. Now we know that the police have
+never heard anything whatever of him, have never traced him. I'm
+convinced that if we could unearth that man we should learn something.
+But how to do it, I don't know."
+
+"And the other point?" asked Selwood, after a pause during which
+everybody seemed to be ruminating deeply. "You mentioned two."
+
+"The other point," replied the Professor, "is one on which I am going to
+make a practical suggestion. It's this--I believe that Barthorpe told
+the truth in that statement of his which I've just read to you, but I
+should like to know if he told all the truth--all! He may have omitted
+some slight thing, some infinitesimal circumstance----"
+
+"Do you mean about himself or--what?" asked Selwood.
+
+"I mean some very--or seemingly very--slight thing, during his two
+visits to the estate office that night, which, however slight it may
+seem, would form a clue to the real murderer," answered the Professor.
+"He may have seen something, noticed something, and forgotten it, or not
+attached great importance to it. And, in short," he continued, with
+added emphasis, "in short, my friends, Barthorpe must be visited,
+interviewed, questioned--not merely by his legal advisers, but by some
+friend, and the very person to do it"--here he turned and laid his great
+hand on Peggie's shoulder--"is--you, my dear!"
+
+"I!" exclaimed Peggie.
+
+"You, certainly! Nobody better. He will tell you what he would tell no
+one else," said the Professor. "You're the person. Am I not right,
+Tertius?"
+
+"I think you are right," assented Mr. Tertius. "Yes, I think so."
+
+"But--he's in prison!" said Peggie. "Will they let me?"
+
+"Oh, that's all right," answered the Professor. "Halfpenny will arrange
+that like winking. You must go at once--and Selwood there will go with
+you. Far better for you two young people to go than for either
+Halfpenny, or Tertius, or myself. Youth invites confidence."
+
+Peggie turned and looked at Selwood.
+
+"You'll go?" she asked.
+
+Selwood felt his cheeks flush and rose to conceal his sudden show of
+feeling. "I'll go anywhere and do anything!" he answered quietly. "I
+don't know whether my opinion's worth having, but I think exactly as
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite does about this affair. But--who's the guilty
+man? Is it--can it be Burchill? If what Barthorpe Herapath says about
+that will affair is true, Burchill is cunning and subtle enough for----"
+
+"Burchill, my dear lad, is at present out of our ken," interrupted
+Cox-Raythwaite. "Barthorpe, however, is very much within it, and
+Halfpenny must arrange for you two to see him without delay. And once
+closeted with him, you must talk to him for his soul's good--get him to
+search his memory, to think of every detail he can rake up--above
+everything, if there's anything he's keeping back, beg him, on your
+knees if necessary, to make a clean breast of it. Otherwise----"
+
+Two days later Peggie, sick at heart, and Selwood, nervous and fidgety,
+sat in a room which gave both of them a feeling as of partial suffocation.
+It was not that it was not big enough for two people, or for six people,
+or for a dozen people to sit in--there was space for twenty. What
+oppressed them was the horrible sense of formality, the absence of
+life, colour, of anything but sure and solid security, the intrusive
+spick-and-spanness, the blatant cleanliness, the conscious odour of some
+sort of soap, used presumably for washing floors and walls, the whole
+crying atmosphere of incarceration. The barred window, the pictureless
+walls, the official look of the utterly plain chairs and tables, the
+grilles of iron bars which cut the place in half--these things oppressed
+the girl so profoundly that she felt as if a sharp scream was the only
+thing that would relieve her pent-up feelings. And as she sat there with
+thumping heart, dreading the appearance of her cousin behind those bars,
+yet wishing intensely that he would come, Peggie had a sudden fearful
+realization of what it really meant to fall into the hands of justice.
+There, somewhere close by, no doubt, Barthorpe was able to move hands
+and feet, legs and arms, body and head--but within limits. He could pace
+a cell, he could tramp round an exercise yard, he could eat and drink,
+he could use his tongue when allowed, he could do many things--but
+always within limits. He was held--held by an unseen power which could
+materialize, could make itself very much seen, at a second's notice.
+There he would stop until he was carried off to his trial; he would come
+and go during that trial, the unseen power always holding him. And one
+day he would either go out of the power's clutches--free, or he would be
+carried off, not to this remand prison but a certain cell in another
+place in which he would sit, or lounge, or lie, with nothing to do,
+until a bustling, businesslike man came in one morning with a little
+group of officials and in his hand a bundle of leather straps. Held!--by
+the strong, never-relaxing clutch of the law. That----
+
+"Buck up!" whispered Selwood, in the blunt language of irreverent, yet
+good-natured, youth. "He's coming!"
+
+Peggie looked up to see Barthorpe staring at her through the iron bars.
+He was not over good to look at. He had a two days' beard on his face;
+his linen was not fresh; his clothes were put on untidily; he stood with
+his hands in his pockets lumpishly--the change wrought by incarceration,
+even of that comparative sort, was great. He looked both sulky and
+sheepish; he gave Selwood no more than a curt nod; his first response to
+his cousin was of the nature of a growl.
+
+"Hanged if I know what you've come for!" he said. "What's the good of
+it? You may mean well, but----"
+
+"Oh, Barthorpe, how can you!" exclaimed Peggie. "Of course we've come!
+Do you think it possible we shouldn't come? You know very well we all
+believe you innocent."
+
+"Who's all?" demanded Barthorpe, half-sneeringly. "Yourself, perhaps,
+and the parlour-maid!"
+
+"All of us," said Selwood, thinking it was time a man spoke.
+"Cox-Raythwaite, Mr. Tertius, myself. That's a fact, anyhow, so you'd
+better grasp it."
+
+Barthorpe straightened himself and looked keenly at Selwood. Then he
+spoke naturally and simply.
+
+"I'm much obliged to you, Selwood," he said. "I'd shake hands with you if
+I could. I'm obliged to the others, too--especially to old Tertius--I've
+wronged him, no doubt. But"--here his face grew dark and savage--"if you
+only knew how I was tricked by that devil! Is he caught?--that's what I
+want to know."
+
+"No!" answered Selwood. "But never mind him--we've come here to see what
+we can do for you. That's the important thing."
+
+"What can anybody do?" said Barthorpe, with a mirthless laugh. "You know
+all the evidence. It's enough--they'll hang me on it!"
+
+"Barthorpe, you mustn't!" expostulated Peggie. "That's not the way to
+treat things. Tell him," she went on, turning to Selwood, "tell him all
+that Professor Cox-Raythwaite said the other night."
+
+Selwood repeated the gist of the Professor's arguments and suggestions,
+and Barthorpe began to show some interest. But at the end he shook his
+head.
+
+"I don't know that there's anything more that I can tell," he said.
+"Whatever anybody may think, I told the entire truth about myself and
+this affair in that statement before the magistrate. Of course, you know
+they didn't want me to say a word--my legal advisers, I mean. They were
+dead against it. But you see, I was resolved on it--I wanted it to get
+in the papers. I told everything in that. I tried to put it as plainly
+as I could. No--I've told the main facts."
+
+"But aren't there any little facts, Barthorpe?" asked Peggie. "Can't you
+think of any small thing--was there nothing that would give--I don't
+know how to put it."
+
+"Anything that you can think of that would give a clue?" suggested
+Selwood. "Was there nothing you noticed--was there anything----"
+
+Barthorpe appeared to be thinking; then to be hesitating--finally, he
+looked at Selwood a little shamefacedly.
+
+"Well, there were one or two things that I didn't tell," he said.
+"I--the fact is, I didn't think they were of importance. One of them was
+about that key to the Safe Deposit. You know you and I couldn't find it
+when we searched the office that morning. Well, I had found it. Or
+rather, I took it off the bunch of keys. I wanted to search the safe at
+the Safe Deposit myself. But I never did. I don't know whether the
+detectives have found it or not--I threw it into a drawer at my office
+in which there are a lot of other keys. But, you know, there's nothing
+in that--nothing at all."
+
+"You said one or two other things just now," remarked Selwood. "That's
+one--what's the other?"
+
+Barthorpe hesitated. The three were not the only occupants of that
+gloomy room, and though the official ears might have been graven out of
+stone, he felt their presence.
+
+"Don't keep anything back, Barthorpe," pleaded Peggie.
+
+"Oh, well!" responded Barthorpe. "I'll tell you, though I don't know
+what good it will do. I didn't tell this, because--well, of course, it's
+not exactly a thing a man likes to tell. When I looked over Uncle
+Jacob's desk, just after I found him dead, you know, I found a
+hundred-pound note lying there. I put it in my pocket. Hundred-pound
+notes weren't plentiful, you know," he went on with a grim smile. "Of
+course, it was a shabby thing to do, sort of robbing the dead, you know,
+but----"
+
+"Do you see any way in which that can help?" asked Selwood, whose mind
+was not disposed to dwell on nice questions of morality or conduct.
+"Does anything suggest itself?"
+
+"Why, this," answered Barthorpe, rubbing his chin. "It was a brand-new
+note. That's puzzled me--that it should be lying there amongst papers.
+You might go to Uncle Jacob's bank and find out when he drew it--or
+rather, if he'd been drawing money that day. He used, as you and I know,
+to draw considerable amounts in notes. And--it's only a notion--if he'd
+drawn anything big that day, and he had it on him that night, why,
+there's a motive there. Somebody may have known he'd a considerable
+amount on him and have followed him in there. Don't forget that I found
+both doors open when I went there! That's a point that mustn't be
+overlooked."
+
+"There's absolutely nothing else you can think of?" asked Selwood.
+
+Barthorpe shook his head. No--there was nothing--he was sure of that.
+And then he turned eagerly to the question of finding Burchill.
+Burchill, he was certain, knew more than he had given him credit for,
+knew something, perhaps, about the actual murder. He was a deep, crafty
+dog, Burchill--only let the police find him!----
+
+Time was up, then, and Peggie and Selwood had to go--their last
+impression that of Barthorpe thrusting his hands in his pockets and
+lounging away to his enforced idleness. It made the girl sick at heart,
+and it showed Selwood what deprivation of liberty means to a man who has
+hitherto been active and vigorous.
+
+"Have we done any good?" asked Peggie, drawing a deep breath of free air
+as soon as they were outside the gates. "Any bit of good?"
+
+"There's the affair of the bank-note," answered Selwood. "That may be of
+some moment. I'll go and report progress on that, anyway."
+
+He put Peggie into her car to go home, and himself hailed a taxi-cab and
+drove straight to Mr. Halfpenny's office, where Professor Cox-Raythwaite
+and Mr. Tertius had arranged to meet him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+THE LAST CHEQUE
+
+
+The three elderly gentlemen, seated in Mr. Halfpenny's private room,
+listened with intense, if silent, interest to Selwood's account of the
+interview with Barthorpe. It was a small bundle of news that he had
+brought back and two of his hearers showed by their faces that they
+attached little importance to it. But Professor Cox-Raythwaite caught
+eagerly at the mere scrap of suggestion.
+
+"Tertius!--Halfpenny!" he exclaimed. "That must be followed up--we must
+follow it up at once. That bank-note may be a most valuable and
+effective clue."
+
+Mr. Halfpenny showed a decided incredulity and dissent.
+
+"I don't see it," he answered. "Don't see it at all, Cox-Raythwaite. What
+is there in it? What clue can there be in the fact that Barthorpe picked
+up a hundred pound bank-note from his uncle's writing-desk? Lord bless
+me!--why, every one of us four men knows very well that hundred pound
+notes were as common to Jacob Herapath as half-crowns are to any of
+us! He was a man who carried money in large amounts on him always--I've
+expostulated with him about it. Don't you know--no, I dare say you don't
+though, because you never had business dealings with him, and perhaps
+Tertius doesn't, either, because he, like you, only knew him as a
+friend--you don't know that Jacob had a peculiarity. Perhaps Mr. Selwood
+knows of it, though, as he was his secretary."
+
+"What peculiarity?" asked the Professor. "I know he had several fads,
+which one might call peculiarities."
+
+"He had a business peculiarity," replied Mr. Halfpenny, "and it was well
+known to people in his line of business. You know that Jacob Herapath
+had extensive, unusually extensive, dealings in real property--land and
+houses. Quite apart from the Herapath Flats, he dealt on wide lines with
+real estate; he was always buying and selling. And his peculiarity was
+that all his transactions in this way were done by cash--bank-notes or
+gold--instead of by cheque. It didn't matter if he was buying a hundred
+thousand pounds' worth of property, or selling two hundred thousand
+pounds' worth--the affairs had to be completed by payment in that
+fashion. I've scolded him about it scores of times; he only laughed at
+me; he said that had been the custom when he went into the business, and
+he'd stuck to it, and wasn't going to give it up. God bless me!"
+concluded Mr. Halfpenny, with emphasis. "I ought to know, for Jacob
+Herapath has concluded many an operation in this very room, and at this
+very table--I've seen him handle many a hundred thousand pounds' worth
+of notes in my time, paying or receiving! And, as I said, the mere
+picking up of a hundred pound note from his desk is--why, it's no more
+than if I picked up a few of those coppers that are lying there on my
+chimney-piece!"
+
+"Just so, just so!" observed Mr. Tertius mildly. "Jacob was a very
+wealthy man--the money evidence was everywhere."
+
+But Professor Cox-Raythwaite only laughed and smote the table with his
+big fist.
+
+"My dear Halfpenny!" he exclaimed. "Why, you've just given us the very
+best proof of what I've been saying! You're not looking deeply enough
+into things. The very fact to which you bear testimony proves to me that
+a certain theory which is assuming shape in my mind may possibly have a
+great deal in it. That theory, briefly, is this--on the day of his death,
+Jacob Herapath may have had upon his person a large amount of money in
+bank-notes. He may have had them paid to him. He may have drawn them from
+his bank, to pay to somebody else. Some evil person may have been aware of
+his possession of those notes and have tracked him to the estate offices,
+or gained entrance, or--mark this!--have been lurking--lurking!--there, in
+order to rob him. Don't forget two points, my friend--one, that Barthorpe
+(if he's speaking the truth, and I, personally, believe he is) tells us
+that the doors of the offices and the private room were open when he
+called at twelve o'clock; and, too, that, according to Mountain, the
+coachman, Jacob Herapath had been in those offices since twenty-five
+minutes to twelve--plenty of time for murder and robbery to take place.
+I repeat--Jacob may have had a considerable sum of money on him that
+night, some one may have known it, and the motive of his murder may have
+been--probably was--sheer robbery. And we ought to go on that, if we want
+to save the family honour."
+
+Mr. Tertius nodded and murmured assent, and Mr. Halfpenny stirred
+uneasily in his chair.
+
+"Family honour!" he said. "Yes, yes, that's right, of course. It would
+be a dreadful thing to see a nephew hanged for the murder of his
+uncle--quite right!"
+
+"A much more dreadful thing to stand by and see an innocent man hanged,
+without moving heaven and earth to clear him," commented the Professor.
+"Come now, I helped to establish the fact that Barthorpe visited Portman
+Square that night--Tertius there helped too, by his quickness in seeing
+that the half-eaten sandwich had been bitten into by a man who had lost
+two front teeth, which, of course, was Barthorpe's case--so the least we
+can do is to bestir ourselves now that we believe him to have told the
+truth in that statement."
+
+"But how exactly are we to bestir ourselves?" asked Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"I suggest a visit to Jacob Herapath's bankers, first of all," answered
+the Professor. "I haven't heard that any particular inquiry has been
+made. Did you make any, Halfpenny?"
+
+"Jacob's bankers are Bittleston, Stocks and Bittleston," replied the old
+lawyer. "I did make it in my way to drop in there and to see Mr.
+Playbourne, the manager of their West End branch, in Piccadilly. He
+assured me that there was nothing whatever out of the common in Jacob
+Herapath's transactions with them just before his death, and nothing at
+all in their particulars of his banking account which could throw any
+possible light on his murder."
+
+"In his opinion," said the Professor, caustically, "in his opinion,
+Halfpenny! But--you don't know what our opinion might be. Now, I suggest
+that we all go at once to see this Mr. Playbourne; there's ample time
+before the bank closes for the day."
+
+"Very well," assented Mr. Halfpenny. "All the same, I'm afraid
+Playbourne will only say just what he said before."
+
+Mr. Playbourne, a good typical specimen of the somewhat old-fashioned
+bank manager, receiving this formidable deputation of four gentlemen in
+his private room, said precisely what he had said before, and seemed
+astonished to think that any light upon such an unpleasant thing as a
+murder could possibly be derived from so highly respectable a quarter as
+that in which he moved during the greater part of the day.
+
+"I can't think of anything in our transactions with the late Mr.
+Herapath that gives any clue, any idea, anything at all," he said,
+somewhat querulously. "Mr. Herapath's transactions with us, right up to
+the day of his death, were just what they had been for years. Of course,
+I'm willing to tell you anything, show you anything. You're acting for
+Miss Wynne, aren't you, Mr. Halfpenny?"
+
+"I have a power of attorney from Miss Wynne, for that matter," answered
+Mr. Halfpenny. "Everything of that sort's in my hands."
+
+"I'll tell you what, then," said the bank manager, laying his hand on a
+bell at his side. "You'd better see Jacob Herapath's pass-book. I
+recently had it posted up to the day of his death, and of course we've
+retained it until you demanded it. You can't have a better index to his
+affairs with us than you'll find in it. Sellars," he went on, as a clerk
+appeared, "bring me the late Mr. Herapath's pass-book--Mr. Ravensdale
+has it."
+
+The visitors presently gathered round the desk on which Mr. Playbourne
+laid the parchment-bound book--one of a corresponding thickness with the
+dead man's transactions. The manager turned to the pages last filled in.
+
+"You're aware, of course, some of you at any rate," he said, "you, Mr.
+Halfpenny, and you, Mr. Selwood, that the late Jacob Herapath dealt in
+big sums. He always had a very large balance at this branch of our bank;
+he was continually paying in and drawing out amounts which, to men of
+less means, must needs seem tremendous. Now, you can see for yourselves
+what his transactions with us were during the last few days of his life;
+I, as I have said, see nothing out of the way in them--you, of course,"
+he continued, with a sniff, "may see a good deal!"
+
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite ran his eye over the neatly-written pages,
+passing rapidly on to the important date--November 12th. And he suddenly
+thrust out his arm and put the tip of a big yellow finger on one
+particular entry.
+
+"There!" he exclaimed. "Look at that. 'Self, £5,000.' Paid out, you see,
+on November 12th. Do you see?"
+
+Mr. Playbourne laughed cynically.
+
+"My dear sir!" he said. "Do you mean to say that you attach any
+importance to an entry like that? Jacob Herapath constantly drew cheques
+to self for five, ten, twenty, thirty--aye, fifty thousand pounds! He
+dealt in tens of thousands--he was always buying or selling. Five
+thousand pounds!--a fleabite!"
+
+"All the same, if you please," said the Professor quietly, "I should
+like to know if Jacob Herapath presented that self cheque himself, and
+if so, how he took the money it represents."
+
+"Oh, very well!" said the manager resignedly. He touched his bell again,
+and looked wearily at the clerk who answered it. "Find out if the late
+Mr. Herapath himself presented a cheque for five thousand on November
+12th, and if so, how he took it," he said. "Well," he continued, turning
+to his visitors. "Do you see anything with any further possible mystery
+attached to it?"
+
+"There's an entry there--the last," observed Mr. Halfpenny. "That.
+'Dimambro: three thousand guineas.' That's the same date."
+
+Mr. Playbourne suddenly showed some interest and animation. His eyes
+brightened; he sat up erect.
+
+"Ah!" he said. "Well, now, that is somewhat remarkable, that entry!--though
+of course there's nothing out of the common in it. But that cheque was
+most certainly the very last ever drawn by Jacob Herapath, and according
+to strict law, it never ought to have been paid out by us."
+
+"Why?" asked Professor Cox-Raythwaite.
+
+"Because Jacob Herapath, the drawer, was dead before it was presented,"
+replied the manager. "But of course we didn't know that. The cheque, you
+see, was drawn on November 12th, and it was presented here as soon as
+ever the doors were opened next morning and before any of us knew of
+what had happened during the night, and it was accordingly honoured in
+the usual way."
+
+"The payee, of course, was known?" observed Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"No, he was not known, but he endorsed the cheque with name and address,
+and there can be no reason whatever to doubt that it had come to him in
+the ordinary way of business," replied the manager. "Quite a usual
+transaction, but, as I say, noteworthy, because, as you know, a cheque
+is no good after its drawer's demise."
+
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite, who appeared to have fallen into a brown study
+for a moment, suddenly looked up.
+
+"Now I wonder if we might be permitted to see that cheque--as a
+curiosity?" he said. "Can we be favoured so far?"
+
+"Oh, certainly, certainly," answered Mr. Playbourne. "No trouble.
+I'll--ah, here's your information about the other cheque--the self
+cheque for five thousand."
+
+He took a slip of paper from the clerk who just then entered, and read
+it aloud.
+
+"Here you are," he said. "'Mr. Herapath cashed cheque for £5,000
+himself, at three o'clock; the money in fifty notes of £100 each,
+numbered as follows'--you can take this slip, if you like," he
+continued, handing the paper to Professor Cox-Raythwaite, as the
+obviously most interested man of his party. "There are the numbers of
+the notes. Of course, I can't see how all this throws any light on the
+mystery of Herapath's murder, but perhaps you can. Sellers," he
+continued, turning to the clerk, and beckoning him to look at the
+pass-book, "find me the cheque referred to there, and bring it here."
+
+The clerk returned in a few minutes with the cheque, which Mr.
+Playbourne at once exhibited to his visitors.
+
+"There you are, gentlemen," he said. "Quite a curiosity!--certainly the
+last cheque ever drawn by our poor friend. There, you see, is his
+well-known signature with his secret little mark which you wouldn't
+detect--secret between him and us, eh!--big, bold handwriting, wasn't
+it? Sad to think that that was--very likely--the last time he used a
+pen!"
+
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite in his turn handled the cheque. Its face gave
+him small concern; what he was most interested in was the endorsement on
+the back. Without saying anything to his companions, he memorized that
+endorsement, and he was still murmuring it to himself when, a few
+minutes later, he walked out of the bank.
+
+"Luigi Dimambro, Hotel Ravenna, Soho."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+THE HOTEL RAVENNA
+
+
+Once closeted together in the private room at Halfpenny and Farthing's
+office, Mr. Halfpenny, who had seemed somewhat mystified by the
+happenings at the bank, looked inquiringly at Professor Cox-Raythwaite
+and snapped out one suggestive monosyllable:
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Very well indeed," answered Cox-Raythwaite. "I consider we have done
+good work. We have found things out. That bank manager is a pompous ass;
+he's a man of asinine, or possible bovine, mind! Of course, he ought to
+have revealed these things at both the inquest and the magisterial
+proceedings!--they'll certainly have to be put in evidence at Barthorpe
+Herapath's trial."
+
+"What things?" demanded the old lawyer, a little testily.
+
+"Two things--facts," replied the Professor, composedly. "First, that
+Jacob Herapath drew five thousand pounds in hundred pound notes at three
+o'clock on the day of his death. Second, that at some hour of that day
+he drew a cheque in favour of one Luigi Dimambro, which cheque was
+cashed as soon as the bank opened next morning."
+
+"Frankly," observed Mr. Halfpenny, "frankly, candidly, Cox-Raythwaite,
+I do not see what these things--facts--prove."
+
+"Very likely," said the Professor, imperturbable as ever, "but they're
+remarkably suggestive to me. They establish for one thing the fact that,
+in all probability, Jacob Herapath had those notes on him when he was
+murdered."
+
+"Don't see it," retorted Mr. Halfpenny. "He got the fifty one-hundred-pound
+notes from the bank at three o'clock in the afternoon. He's supposed to
+have been murdered at twelve--midnight. That's nine hours. Plenty of time
+in which to pay those notes away--as he most likely did."
+
+"If you'll let your mind go back to what came out in evidence at the
+inquest," said the Professor, "you'll remember that Jacob Herapath went
+to the House of Commons at half-past three that day and never left it
+until his coachman fetched him at a quarter-past eleven. It's not very
+likely that he'd transact business at the House."
+
+"Plenty of time between three and half-past three," objected Mr.
+Halfpenny.
+
+"Quite so, but we haven't heard of any transaction being carried out
+during that time. Make inquiry, and see if he did engage in any such
+transaction," said the Professor. "If he didn't, then my theory that he
+had the notes on him is correct. Moreover, Barthorpe has told Selwood
+that he picked up one note from the desk in his uncle's private room."
+
+"One note!" exclaimed Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"One note--quite so," agreed the Professor. "May it not have been--it's
+all theory, of course--that Jacob had all the notes on the desk when he
+was murdered, that the murderer grabbed them afterwards, and in his
+haste, left one? Come, now!"
+
+"Theory--theory!" said Mr. Halfpenny. "Still, I'll make inquiries all
+around, to see if Jacob did pay five thousand away to anybody that
+afternoon. Well, and your other point?"
+
+"I should like to know what the cheque for three thousand guineas was
+for," answered the Professor. "It was paid out to one Luigi Dimambro,
+whose address was written down by himself in endorsing the cheque as
+Hotel Ravenna, Soho. He, presumably, is a foreigner, an Italian, or a
+Corsican, or a Sicilian, and the probability is that Jacob Herapath
+bought something from him that day, and that the transaction took place
+after banking hours."
+
+"How do you deduce that?" asked Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"Because Dimambro cashed his cheque as soon as the bank opened its doors
+next morning," answered the Professor. "If he'd been given the cheque
+before four o'clock on November 12th, he'd have cashed it then."
+
+"The cheque may have been posted to him," said Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"May be; the point is that it was drawn by Jacob on November 12th and
+cashed at the earliest possible hour next day," replied the Professor.
+"Now, though it may have nothing to do with the case, I want to know
+what that cheque referred to. More than this, I have an idea. May not
+this man Dimambro be the man who called on Jacob Herapath at the House
+of Commons that night--the man whom Mountain saw, but did not recognize
+as one of his master's usual friends or acquaintances? Do you see that
+point?"
+
+Mr. Tertius and Selwood muttered expressions of acquiescence, but Mr.
+Halfpenny shook his head.
+
+"Can't see anything much in it," he said. "If this foreign fellow,
+Dimambro, was the man who called at the House, I don't see what that's got
+to do with the murder. Jacob Herapath, of course, had business affairs
+with all sorts of queer people--Italians, Spaniards, Chinese--many a Tom,
+Dick, and Harry of 'em; he bought curios of all descriptions, and often
+sold them again as soon as bought."
+
+"Very good suggestion," said Professor Cox-Raythwaite. "He may have
+bought something extremely valuable from this Dimambro that day, or that
+night, and--he may have had it on him when he was murdered. Clearly, we
+must see this Luigi Dimambro!"
+
+"If he's the man who called at the House, you forget that he's been
+advertised for no end," said Selwood.
+
+"No, I don't," responded the Professor. "But he may be out of the
+country: may have come to it specially to see Jacob Herapath, and left
+it again. I repeat, we must see this man, if he's to be found. We must
+make inquiries--cautious, guarded inquiries--at this hotel in Soho,
+which is probably a foreigners' house of call, a mere restaurant. And
+the very person to make those inquiries," he concluded, turning to
+Selwood and favouring him with a smack of the shoulder, "is--you!"
+
+Selwood flinched, physically and mentally. He had no great love of the
+proposed rôle--private detective work did not appeal to him. And he
+suggested that Professor Cox-Raythwaite had far better apply to Scotland
+Yard.
+
+"By no means," answered the Professor calmly. "You are the man to do the
+work. We don't want any police interference. This Hotel Ravenna is
+probably some café, restaurant, or saloon in Soho, frequented by
+foreigners--a place where, perhaps, a man can get a room for a night or
+two. You must go quietly, unobtrusively, there; if it's a restaurant, as
+it's sure to be, or at any rate, a place to which a restaurant is
+attached, go in and get some sort of a meal, keep your eyes open, find
+out the proprietor, get into talk with him, see if he knows Luigi
+Dimambro. All you need is tact, caution, and readiness to adapt yourself
+to circumstances."
+
+Then, when they left Mr. Halfpenny's office he took Selwood aside and
+gave him certain hints and instructions, and enlarged upon the
+advantages of finding Dimambro if he was to be found. The Professor
+himself was enthusiastic about these recent developments, and he
+succeeded in communicating some of his enthusiasm to Selwood. After all,
+thought Selwood, as he went to Portman Square to tell Peggie of the
+afternoon's doings, whatever he did was being done for Peggie; moreover,
+he was by that time certain that however mean and base Barthorpe
+Herapath's conduct had been about the will, he was certainly not the
+murderer of his uncle. If that murderer was to be tracked--why, there
+was a certain zest, an appealing excitement in the tracking of him that
+presented a sure fascination to youthful spirits.
+
+That evening found Selwood, quietly and unassumingly attired, examining
+the purlieus of Soho. It was a district of which he knew little, and for
+half an hour he perambulated its streets, wondering at the distinctly
+foreign atmosphere. And suddenly he came across the Hotel Ravenna--there
+it was, confronting him, at the lower end of Dean Street. He drew back
+and looked it well over from the opposite pavement.
+
+The Hotel Ravenna was rather more of a pretentious establishment than
+Selwood had expected it to be. It was typically Italian in outward
+aspect. There were the usual evergreen shrubs set in the usual green
+wood tubs at the entrance; the usual abundance of plate-glass and garish
+gilt; the usual glimpse, whenever the door opened, of the usual vista of
+white linen, red plush, and many mirrors; the waiter who occasionally
+showed himself at the door, napkin in hand, was of the type which
+Selwood had seen a thousand times under similar circumstances. But all
+this related to the restaurant--Selwood was more interested that the
+word "Hotel" appeared in gilt letters over a door at the side of the
+establishment and was repeated in the windows of the upper storeys. He
+was half-minded to enter the door at once, and to make a guarded inquiry
+for Mr. Luigi Dimambro; on reflection he walked across the street and
+boldly entered the restaurant.
+
+It was half-past seven o'clock, and the place was full of customers.
+Selwood took most of them to be foreigners. He also concluded after a
+first glance around him that the majority had some connection, more or
+less close, with either the dramatic, or the musical, or the artistic
+professions. There was much laughter and long hair, marvellous neckties
+and wondrous costumes; everybody seemed to be talking without regard to
+question or answer; the artillery of the voices mingled with the
+rattling of plates and popping of corks. Clearly this was no easy place
+in which to seek for a man whom one had never seen!
+
+Selwood allowed a waiter to conduct him to a vacant seat--a plush throne
+half-way along the restaurant. He ordered a modest dinner and a bottle
+of light wine, and following what seemed to be the custom, lighted a
+cigarette until his first course appeared. And while he waited he looked
+about him, noting everything that presented itself. Out of all the folk
+there, waiters and customers, the idle and the busy, he quickly decided
+that there was only one man who possessed particular interest for him.
+That man was the big, smiling, frock-coated, sleek-haired patron or
+proprietor, who strode up and down, beaming and nodding, sharp-eyed and
+courteous, and whom Selwood, from a glance at the emblazoned lettering
+of the bill-of-fare, took to rejoice in the name of Mr. Alessandro
+Bioni. This man, if he was landlord, or manager, of the Ravenna Hotel,
+was clearly the person to approach if one wanted information about the
+Luigi Dimambro who had given the place as his address as recently as
+November 12th.
+
+While he ate and drank, Selwood wondered how to go about his business.
+It seemed to him that the best thing to do, now that he had seen the
+place and assured himself that it was a hotel evidently doing a proper
+and legitimate business, was to approach its management with a plain
+question--was Mr. Luigi Dimambro staying there, or was he known there?
+Since Dimambro, whoever he might be, had given that as his address,
+something must be known of him. And when the smiling patron presently
+came round, and, seeing a new customer, asked politely if he was being
+served to his satisfaction, Selwood determined to settle matters at
+once.
+
+"The proprietor, I presume?" he asked.
+
+"Manager, sir," answered the other. "The proprietor, he is an old
+gentleman--practically retired."
+
+"Perhaps I can ask you a question," Selwood. "Have you got a Mr. Luigi
+Dimambro staying at your hotel? He is, I believe"--here Selwood made a
+bold shot at a possibility--"a seller of curios, or art objects. I know
+he stops here sometimes."
+
+The manager rubbed his hands together and reflected.
+
+"One moment, sir," he said. "I get the register. The hotel guests, they
+come in here for meals, but always I do not recollect their names, and
+sometimes not know them. But the register----"
+
+He sped down the room, through a side door, vanished; to return in a
+moment with a book which he carried to Selwood's side.
+
+"Dimambro?" he said. "Recently, then? We shall see."
+
+"About the beginning or middle of November," answered Selwood.
+
+The manager found the pages: suddenly he pointed to an entry.
+
+"See, then!" he exclaimed dramatically. "You are right, sir. There--Luigi
+Dimambro--November 11th to--yes--13th. Two days only. Then he go--leave
+us, eh?"
+
+"Oh, then, he's not here now," said Selwood, affecting disappointment.
+"That's a pity. I wanted to see him. I wonder if he left any address?"
+
+The manager showed more politeness in returning to the hotel office and
+making inquiry. He came back full of disappointment that he could not
+oblige his customer. No--no address--merely there for two nights--then
+gone--nobody knew where. Perhaps he would return--some day.
+
+"Oh, it's of no great consequence, thank you," remarked Selwood. "I'm
+much obliged to you."
+
+He had found out, at any rate, that a man named Dimambro had certainly
+stayed at the Hotel Ravenna on the critical and important date.
+Presumably he was the man who had presented Jacob Herapath's cheque at
+Bittleston's Bank first thing on the morning after the murder. But
+whether this man had any connection with that murder, whether to
+discover his whereabouts would be to reveal something of use in
+establishing Barthorpe Herapath's innocence, were questions which he
+must leave to Professor Cox-Raythwaite, to whom he was presently going
+with his news.
+
+He had just finished his coffee, and was about to pay his bill when,
+looking up to summon the waiter, he suddenly saw a face appear behind
+the glass panel of the street door--the face of a man who had evidently
+stolen quietly into the entry between the evergreen shrubs and wished to
+take a surreptitious peep into the interior of the little restaurant. It
+was there, clearly seen through the glass, but for one fraction of a
+second--then it was withdrawn as swiftly as it had come and the panel of
+glass was blank again. But in that flash of time Selwood had recognized
+it.
+
+Burchill!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+THE NOTE IN THE PRAYER-BOOK
+
+
+Selwood hurried out of that restaurant as soon as he had paid his bill,
+but it was with small hopes of finding the man whose face had appeared
+at the glass panel for the fraction of a second. As well look for one
+snowflake in a drift as for one man in those crowded streets!--all the
+same, he spent half an hour in wandering round the neighbourhood,
+looking eagerly at every tall figure he met or passed. And at the end of
+that time he went off to Endsleigh Gardens and reported progress to
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite.
+
+The Professor heard both items of news without betraying any great
+surprise.
+
+"You're sure it was Burchill?" he asked.
+
+"As sure," answered Selwood, "as that you're you! His is not a face easy
+to mistake."
+
+"He's a daring fellow," observed the Professor, musingly. "A very bold
+fellow! There's a very good portrait of him on those bills that the police
+have put out and posted so freely, and he must know that every constable
+and detective in London is on the look-out for him, to say nothing of folk
+who would be glad of the reward. If that was Burchill--and I've no doubt
+of it, since you're so certain--it suggests a good deal to me."
+
+"What?" asked Selwood.
+
+"That he's not afraid of being recaptured as you'd think he would
+be," replied the Professor. "It suggests that he's got some card
+up his sleeve--which is what I've always thought. He probably knows
+something--you may be certain, in any case, that he's playing a deep
+and bold game, for his own purpose, of course. Now, I wonder if
+Burchill went to that restaurant on the same errand as yourself?"
+
+"What!--to look for Dimambro?" exclaimed Selwood.
+
+"Why not? Remember that Burchill was Jacob Herapath's secretary before
+you were," answered the Professor. "He was with Jacob some time,
+wasn't he? Well, he knew a good deal about Jacob's doings. Jacob may
+have had dealings with this Dimambro person in Burchill's days. You
+don't remember that Jacob had any such dealings in your time?"
+
+"Never!" replied Selwood. "Never heard the man's name until
+yesterday--never saw any letters from him, never heard Mr. Herapath
+mention him. But then, as Mr. Halfpenny said, yesterday, Mr. Herapath
+had all sorts of queer dealings with queer people. It's a fact that he
+used to buy and sell all sorts of things--curios, pictures, precious
+stones--he'd all sorts of irons in the fire. It's a fact, too, that he
+was accustomed to carrying not only considerable sums of money, but
+valuables on him."
+
+"Ah!" exclaimed the Professor. He rose out of his chair, put his hands
+behind his broad back, and began to march up and down his study. "I'll
+tell you what, young man!" he said earnestly. "I'm more than ever
+convinced that Jacob Herapath was robbed as well as murdered, and that
+robbery and murder--or, rather, murder and robbery, for the murder would
+go first--took place just before Barthorpe entered the offices to keep
+that appointment. Selwood!--we must find this Dimambro man!"
+
+"Who's most likely left the country," remarked Selwood.
+
+"That's probable--it may be certain," said the Professor. "Nevertheless,
+he may be here. And Burchill may be looking for him, too. Now, if Dimambro
+stopped two days at that Hotel Ravenna, from November 11th to 13th, there
+must be somebody who knows something of him. We must--you must--make more
+inquiry--there at the hotel. Talk quietly to that manager or the servants.
+Get a description of him. Do that at once--first thing tomorrow morning."
+
+"You don't want to tell the police all this?" asked Selwood.
+
+"No! Not at present, at any rate," answered the Professor. "The police
+have their own methods, and they don't thank anybody for putting them
+off their beaten tracks. And--for the present--we won't tell them
+anything about your seeing Burchill. If we did, they'd be incredulous.
+Police-like, they'll have watched the various seaports much more closely
+than they'll have watched London streets for Burchill. And Burchill's a
+clever devil--he'll know that he's much safer under the very nose of the
+people who want him than he would be fifty miles away from their toes!
+No, it's my opinion that Master Burchill will reveal himself, when the
+time comes."
+
+"Give himself up, do you mean?" exclaimed Selwood.
+
+"Likely--but if he does, it'll be done with a purpose," answered the
+Professor. "Well--keep all quiet at present, and tomorrow morning, go
+and see if you can find out more about Dimambro at that hotel."
+
+Selwood repaired to the polite manager again next day and found no
+difficulty in getting whatever information the hotel staff--represented
+by a manageress, a general man-servant, and a maid or two--could give.
+It was meagre, and not too exact in particulars. Mr. Dimambro, who had
+never been there before, had stopped two days. He had occupied Room
+5--the gentleman could see it if he wished. Mr. Dimambro had been in and
+out most of the time. On the 13th he had gone out early in the morning;
+by ten o'clock he had returned, paid his bill, and gone away with his
+luggage--one suit-case. No--he had had no callers at the hotel. But a
+waiter in the restaurant was discovered who remembered him as Number 5,
+and that on the 12th he had entertained a gentleman to dinner at seven
+o'clock--a tall, thin, dark-faced gentleman, who looked like--yes, like
+an actor: a nicely dressed gentleman. That was all the waiter could
+remember of the guest; he remembered just about as much of Number 5,
+which was that Dimambro was a shortish, stoutish gentleman, with a
+slight black beard and moustache. There was a good reason why the
+waiter remembered this occurrence--the two gentlemen had a bottle of the
+best champagne, a rare occurrence at the Hotel Ravenna--a whole bottle,
+for which the surprising sum of twelve shillings and sixpence was
+charged! In proof of that startling episode in the restaurant routine,
+he produced the desk book for that day--behold it, the entry: Number
+5--1 Moet & Chandon, 12_s._ 6_d._
+
+"It is of a rare thing our customers call for wine so expensive," said
+the polite manager. "Light wines, you understand, sir, we mostly sell.
+Champagne at twelve and six--an event!"
+
+Selwood carried this further news to Professor Cox-Raythwaite, who
+roused himself from his microscope to consider it.
+
+"Could that tall, dark, nicely-dressed gentleman have been Burchill?" he
+muttered. "Sounds like him. But you've got a description of Dimambro, at
+any rate. Now we know of one man who saw the caller at the House of
+Commons--Mountain, the coachman. Come along--I'll go with you to see
+Mountain."
+
+Mountain, discovered at the mews wherein the Herapath stable was kept,
+said at once that he remembered the gentleman who had come out of the
+House of Commons with his late master. But when he came to be taxed with
+a requirement of details, Mountain's memory proved to be of no real
+value. The gentleman--well, he was a well-dressed gentleman, and he wore
+a top hat. But whether the gentleman was dark or fair, elderly or
+middle-aged, short or medium-heighted, he did not know--exactly.
+Nevertheless----
+
+"I should know him again, sir, if I was to set eyes on him!" said
+Mountain, with such belief in his powers. "Pick him out of a thousand, I
+could!"
+
+"Queer how deficient most of our people are in the faculty of observation!"
+remarked the Professor as he and Selwood left the mews. "It really is most
+extraordinary that a man like that, with plenty of intelligence, and is no
+doubt a good man in his own line, can look at another man for a full minute
+and yet be utterly unable to tell you anything definite about him a month
+later! No help there, Selwood."
+
+It seemed to Selwood that they were face to face with an impossible
+situation, and he began to feel inclined to share Mr. Halfpenny's
+pessimistic opinions as to the usefulness of these researches. But
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite was not to be easily daunted, and he was no
+sooner baulked in one direction than he hastened to try another.
+
+"Now, let's see where we are," he said, as they went round to Portman
+Square. "We do know for a certainty that Jacob Herapath had a transaction
+of some sort with one Luigi Dimambro, on November 12th, and that it
+resulted in his handing, or sending, the said Luigi a cheque for three
+thousand guineas. Let's see if we can't find some trace of it, or some
+mention of it, or of previous dealings with Dimambro, amongst Jacob's
+papers. I suppose we can get access to everything here at the house,
+and down at the office, too, can't we? The probability is that the
+transaction with Dimambro was not the first. There must be something,
+Selwood--memoranda, letters, receipts--must be!"
+
+But Selwood shook his head and uttered a dismal groan.
+
+"Another of my late employer's peculiarities," he answered, "was that
+he never gave or took receipts in what one may call word-of-mouth
+transactions! He had a rooted--almost savage--objection to anybody
+asking him for a receipt for cash; he absolutely refused to take one if
+he paid cash. I've seen him pay several thousand pounds for a purchase
+and fling the proffered receipt in the fire in the purchaser's presence.
+He used to ask--vehemently!--if you wanted receipts for a loaf of bread
+or a pound of beef-steak. I'm afraid we shan't find much of that sort.
+As to letters and memoranda, Mr. Herapath had a curious habit which gave
+me considerable trouble of mind when I first went to him, though I admit
+it was a simple one. He destroyed every letter he ever got as soon as
+he'd answered it. And as he insisted on everything being answered there
+and then, there's no great accumulation of paper in that way!"
+
+"We'll see what there is, anyhow," said the Professor. "If we could find
+something, anything--a mere business card, a letter-heading--that would
+give us Dimambro's permanent address, it would be of use. For I'm more
+and more convinced that Dimambro was the man who called at the House of
+Commons that night, and if it was Burchill who dined with him that same
+evening, why, then--but come along, let's have a look at Jacob's desk
+in the house here, and after that we'll go down to the estate offices
+and see if we can find anything there."
+
+This was a Saturday morning--during the whole of that afternoon and
+evening the Professor and Selwood examined every drawer and receptacle
+in which Jacob Herapath's papers lay, both at Portman Square and at
+Kensington. And, exactly as Selwood had said, there was next to nothing
+of a private nature. Papers relating to Parliamentary matters, to
+building schemes, to business affairs, there were in plenty, duly filed,
+docketed, and arranged, but there was nothing of the sort that
+Cox-Raythwaite hoped to find, and when they parted, late at night, they
+were no wiser than when they began their investigations.
+
+"Go home to bed," counselled the Professor. "Put the whole thing out of
+your head until Monday morning. Don't even think about it. Come and see
+me on Monday, first thing, and we'll start again. For by the Lord Harry!
+I'll find out yet what the real nature of Jacob Herapath's transaction
+with Dimambro was, if I have to track Dimambro all through Italy!"
+
+Selwood was glad enough to put everything out of his mind; it seemed to him
+a hopeless task to search for a man to whose identity they only had the
+very faintest clue. But before noon of the next day--Sunday--he was face
+to face with a new phase of the problem. Since her uncle's death, Peggie
+had begun to show a quiet reliance on Selwood. It had come to be tacitly
+understood between them that he was to be in constant attendance on her
+for the present, at any rate. He spent all his time at the house in
+Portman Square; he saved its young mistress all the trouble he could; he
+accompanied her in her goings and comings. And of late he had taken to
+attending her to a certain neighbouring church, whereto Peggie, like a
+well-regulated young lady, was constant in her Sunday visits. There in
+the Herapath family pew, he and Peggie sat together on this particular
+Sunday morning, neither with any thought that the Herapath mystery had
+penetrated to their sacred surroundings. Selwood had been glad to take
+Cox-Raythwaite's advice and to put the thing out of his mind for thirty-six
+hours: Peggie had nothing in her mind but what was proper to the occasion.
+
+Jacob Herapath had been an old-fashioned man in many respects; one of
+his fads was an insistence upon having a family pew in the church which
+he attended, and in furnishing it with his own cushions, mats, and
+books. Consequently Peggie left her own prayer-book in that pew from
+Sunday to Sunday. She picked it up now, and opened it at the usual
+familiar place. And from that place immediately dropped a folded note.
+
+Had this communication been a _billet-doux_, Peggie could hardly have
+betrayed more alarm and confusion. For a moment she let the thing rest
+in the palm of her hand, holding the hand out towards Selwood at her
+side; then with trembling fingers she unfolded it in such a fashion that
+she and Selwood read it together. With astonished eyes and beating hearts
+they found themselves looking at a half-sheet of thin, foreign-looking
+notepaper, on which were two or three lines of typewriting:
+
+ "If you wish to save your cousin Barthorpe's life,
+ leave the church and speak to the lady whom you will find
+ in a private automobile at the entrance to the
+ churchyard."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+THE WHITE-HAIRED LADY
+
+
+The two young people who bent over this mysterious message in the shelter
+of that old-fashioned pew were each conscious of a similar feeling--they
+were thankful that they were together. Peggie Wynne had never been so glad
+of anything in her life as for Selwood's immediate presence at that moment:
+Selwood felt a world of unspeakable gratitude that he was there, just when
+help and protection were wanted. For each recognized, with a sure instinct
+and intuition, that those innocent-looking lines of type-script signified
+much, heralded some event of dire importance. To save Barthorpe Herapath's
+life!--that could only mean that somebody--the sender of the note--knew
+that Barthorpe was innocent and some other person guilty.
+
+For a moment the girl stared with startled eyes and flushed cheeks at
+the scrap of paper; then she turned with a quick, questioning look at
+her companion. And Selwood reached for his hat and his stick, and
+murmured one word:
+
+"Come!"
+
+Peggie saw nothing of the surprised and questioning looks which were turned
+on Selwood and herself as they left the pew and passed down the aisle of
+the crowded church. She had but one thought--whom was she going to meet
+outside, what revelation was going to be made to her? Unconsciously, she
+laid a hand on Selwood's arm as they passed through the porch, and Selwood,
+with a quick throb of pride, took it and held it. Then, arm in arm, they
+walked out, and a verger who opened the outer door for them, smiled as they
+passed him; he foresaw another passing-out, whereat Peggie would wear
+orange blossoms.
+
+The yard of this particular church was not a place of green sward,
+ancient trees, and tumble-down tombs; instead it was an expanse of bare
+flagstones, shut in by high walls which terminated at a pair of iron
+gates. Outside those gates an automobile was drawn up; its driver stood
+attentively at its door. Selwood narrowly inspected both, as he and
+Peggie approached. The car was evidently a private one: a quiet, yet
+smart affair; its driver was equally smart in his dark green livery. And
+that he had received his orders was evident from the fact that as the
+two young people approached he touched his cap and laid a hand on the
+door of the car.
+
+"Be watchful and careful," whispered Selwood, as he and Peggie crossed
+the pavement. "Leave all to me!"
+
+He himself was keenly alert to whatever might be going to happen. It
+seemed to him, from the chauffeur's action, that they were to be
+invited, or Peggie was to be invited, to enter the car. Very good--but
+he was going to know who was in that car before any communications of
+any sort were entered upon. Also, Peggie was not going to exchange one
+word with anybody, go one step with anybody, unless he remained in close
+attendance upon her. The phraseology of the mysterious note; the
+clandestine fashion in which it had been brought under Peggie's notice;
+the extraordinary method adopted of procuring an interview with her--all
+these things had aroused Selwood's suspicions, and his natural sense of
+caution was at its full stretch as he walked across to the car,
+wondering what he and Peggie were about to confront.
+
+What they did confront was a pleasant-faced, white-haired, elderly lady,
+evidently a woman of fashion and of culture, who bent forward from her
+seat with a kindly, half-apologetic smile.
+
+"Miss Wynne?" she said inquiringly. "How do you do? And this gentleman
+is, no doubt, Mr. Selwood, of whom I have heard? You must forgive this
+strange conduct, this extraordinary manner of getting speech with you--I
+am not a free agent. Now, as I have something to say--will you both come
+into the car and hear it?"
+
+Peggie, who was greatly surprised at this reception, turned diffidently
+to her companion. And Selwood, who had been gazing earnestly at the
+elderly lady's face, and had seen nothing but good intention in it, felt
+himself considerably embarrassed.
+
+"I--well, really, this is such a very strange affair altogether that I
+don't know what we ought to do," he said. "May I suggest that if you
+wish to talk to Miss Wynne, we should go to her house? It's only just
+round the corner, and----"
+
+"But that's just what I am not to do," replied the lady, with an amused
+laugh. "I repeat--I am not exactly a free agent. It's all very strange,
+and very unpleasant, and sounds, no doubt, very mysterious, but I am
+acting--practically--under orders. Let me suggest something--will you
+and Miss Wynne come into the car, and I will tell the man to drive
+gently about until you have heard what I have to say? Come now!--I am
+not going to kidnap you, and you can't come to much harm by driving
+round about Portman Square for a few minutes, in the company of an old
+woman! Dickerson," she went on, as Selwood motioned Peggie to enter the
+car, "drive us very slowly round about here until I tell you to stop--go
+round the square--anywhere."
+
+The car moved gently up Baker Street, and Selwood glanced inquiringly at
+their captor.
+
+"May we have the pleasure of----"
+
+The elderly lady brought out a card-case and some papers.
+
+"I am Mrs. Engledew," she said. "I live in the Herapath Flats. I don't
+suppose you ever heard of me, Miss Wynne, but I knew your uncle very
+well--we had been acquaintances, nay, friends, for years. I thought it
+might be necessary to prove my _bona fides_," she continued, with a
+laugh, "so I brought some letters of Jacob Herapath's with me--letters
+written to me--you recognize his big, bold hand, of course."
+
+There was no mistaking Jacob Herapath's writing, and the two young
+people, after one glance at it, exchanged glances with each other.
+
+"Now you want to know why I am here," said Mrs. Engledew. "The answer
+is plain--if astonishing. I have managed to get mixed up in this matter
+of Jacob Herapath's murder! That sounds odd, doesn't it?--nevertheless,
+it's true. But we can't go into that now. And I cannot do more than tell
+you that I simply bring a message and want an answer. My dear!" she
+continued, laying a hand on Peggie's arm, "you do not wish to see
+Barthorpe Herapath hanged?"
+
+"We believe him innocent," replied Peggie.
+
+"Quite so--he is innocent--of murder, anyway," said Mrs. Engledew.
+"Now--I speak in absolute confidence, remember!--there are two men who
+know who the real murderer is. They are in touch with me--that is, one
+of them is, on behalf of both. I am really here as their emissary. They
+are prepared to give you and the police full particulars about the
+murder--for a price."
+
+Selwood felt himself grow more suspicious than ever. This lady was of
+charming address, pleasant smile, and apparently candid manners,
+but--price!--price for telling the truth in a case like this!
+
+"What price?" he asked.
+
+"Their price is ten thousand pounds--cash," answered Mrs. Engledew, with
+a little shrug of her shoulders. "Seems a great deal, doesn't it? But
+that is their price. They will not be moved from it. If Miss Wynne will
+agree to pay that sum, they will at once not only give their evidence as
+to the real murderer of Jacob Herapath, but they will point him out."
+
+"When?" demanded Selwood.
+
+"Tonight!" replied Mrs. Engledew. "Tonight--at an hour to be fixed after
+your agreement to their terms."
+
+Selwood felt himself in a difficult position. Mr. Tertius was out of
+town for the day, gone to visit an antiquarian friend in Berkshire: Mr.
+Halfpenny lived away down amongst the Surrey hills. Still, there was
+Cox-Raythwaite to turn to. But it seemed as if the lady desired an
+immediate answer.
+
+"You know these men?" he asked.
+
+"One only, who represents both," answered Mrs. Engledew.
+
+"Why not point him out to the police, and let them deal with them?"
+suggested Selwood. "They would get his evidence out of him without any
+question of price!"
+
+"I have given my word," said Mrs. Engledew. "I--the fact is, I am mixed
+up in this, quite innocently, of course. And I am sure that no living
+person knows the truth except these men, and just as sure that they will
+not tell what they know unless they are paid. The police could not make
+them speak if they didn't want to speak. They know very well that they
+have got the whip-hand of all of us in that respect!"
+
+"Of you, too?" asked Selwood.
+
+"Of me, too!" she answered. "Nobody in the world, I'm sure, knows the
+secret but these men. And it's important to me personally that they
+should reveal it. In fact, though I'm not rich, I'll join Miss Wynne in
+paying their price, so far as a thousand pounds is concerned. I would
+pay more, but I really haven't got the money--I daren't go beyond a
+thousand."
+
+Selwood felt himself impressed by this candid offer.
+
+"Precisely what do they ask--what do they propose?" he asked.
+
+"This. If you agree to pay them ten thousand pounds, you and Professor
+Cox-Raythwaite are to meet them tonight. They will then tell the true
+story, and they will further take you and the police to the man, the
+real murderer," answered Mrs. Engledew. "It is important that all this
+should be done tonight."
+
+"Where is this meeting to take place?" demanded Selwood.
+
+"It can take place at my flat: in fact, it must, because, as I say, I am
+unfortunately mixed up," said Mrs. Engledew. "If you agree to the terms,
+you are to telephone to me--I have written my number on the card--at two
+o'clock this afternoon. Then I shall telephone the time of meeting
+tonight, and you must bring the money with you."
+
+"Ten thousand pounds in cash--on Sunday!" exclaimed Selwood. "That, of
+course, is utterly impossible."
+
+"Not cash in that sense," replied Mrs. Engledew. "An open cheque will
+do. And, don't you see, that, I think, proves the _bona fides_ of the
+men. If they fail to do what they say they can and will do, you can stop
+payment of that cheque first thing tomorrow morning."
+
+"Yes, that's so," agreed Selwood. He glanced at Peggie, who was
+silently listening with deep interest. "I don't know how things stand,"
+he went on. "Mr. Halfpenny, Miss Wynne's solicitor, lives a long way out
+of town. Miss Wynne would doubtless cheerfully sacrifice ten thousand
+pounds to save her cousin----"
+
+"Oh, twenty thousand--anything!" exclaimed Peggie. "Don't let us
+hesitate about money, please."
+
+"But I don't know whether she can draw a cheque," continued Selwood. "At
+least, for such an amount as that. Perhaps Professor Cox-Raythwaite can
+tell us. Let me ask you a question or two, if you please, Mrs.
+Engledew," he went on. "You say you only know one of these men. Do you
+know his name?"
+
+"No--I don't," confessed Mrs. Engledew. "Everything is secret and
+mysterious."
+
+"Are you convinced--has he done anything to convince you--of his good
+faith?"
+
+"Yes--absolutely!"
+
+"You don't doubt his--their--ability to clear all this up?"
+
+"I'm quite sure they can clear it up."
+
+"Have you any idea as to the identity of the real murderer?"
+
+"Not the least!"
+
+"One more question, then," concluded Selwood. "Are the police to be
+there when Cox-Raythwaite and I come tonight?"
+
+"That I don't know," replied Mrs. Engledew. "All I know is--just what I
+am ordered to say. Pay them the money--they will tell the truth and take
+you and the police to the real criminal. One more thing--it is
+understood that you will not approach the police between now and this
+evening. That part--the police part--is to be left to them."
+
+"I understand," said Selwood. "Very well--we will get out, if you
+please, and we will go straight to Professor Cox-Raythwaite. At two
+o'clock I shall ring you up and give you our answer."
+
+He hurried Peggie into a taxi-cab as soon as Mrs. Engledew's car had
+gone away, and they went hastily to Endsleigh Gardens, where Professor
+Cox-Raythwaite listened to the strange story in dead silence.
+
+"Mrs. Engledew--lady living in Herapath Flats--old friend of
+Jacob's--possessed letters of his--instrument for two men in possession of
+secret--willing to fork out a thousand of her own," he muttered. "Gad!--I
+take that to be genuine, Selwood! The only question is for Peggie
+here--does she wish to throw away nine thousand to save Barthorpe's neck?"
+
+"The only question, Professor," said Peggie, reprovingly, "is--can I do
+it? Can I draw a cheque for that amount?"
+
+"Why not?" replied the Professor. "Everything's in order. Barthorpe
+withdrew that wretched caveat--the will's been proved--every penny that
+Jacob possessed is yours. Draw a cheque for fifty thousand, if you
+like!"
+
+"And you will go with Mr. Selwood?" asked Peggie, with a touch of
+anxiety which was not lost on the Professor.
+
+"Go with him--and take care of him, too," answered the Professor,
+digging his big fingers into Selwood's ribs. "Very good. Now stop here
+and lunch with me, and at two o'clock we'll telephone."
+
+He and Peggie stood breathlessly waiting in the hall that afternoon
+while Selwood was busy at the telephone in an adjacent lobby. Selwood
+came back to them nodding his head.
+
+"All right!" he said. "You and I, Professor, at her flat--tonight, at
+nine o'clock."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+THE INTERRUPTED DINNER-PARTY
+
+
+Triffitt's recent inquiries in connection with the Herapath affair had been
+all very well from a strictly professional point of view, but not so well
+from another. For nearly twelve months he had been engaged to a sweet girl,
+of whom he was very fond, and who thoroughly reciprocated his affection;
+up to the time of the Herapath murder he had contrived to spend a certain
+portion of each day with her, and to her he had invariably devoted the
+whole of his Sundays. In this love affair he was joined by his friend,
+to whom Triffitt's young lady had introduced her great friend, with whom
+Carver had promptly become infatuated. These ladies, both very young and
+undeniably charming, spent the greater part of the working week at the
+School of Needlework, in South Kensington, where they fashioned various
+beautiful objects with busy needles; Sundays they gave up to their
+swains, and every Sunday ended with a little dinner of four at some cheap
+restaurant whereat you could get quite a number of courses at the fixed
+price of half a crown or so and drink light wine which was very little
+dearer than pale ale. All parties concerned looked forward throughout the
+week to these joyful occasions; the girls wore their best frocks, and the
+young men came out bravely in the matter of neckties; there was laughter
+and gaiety and a general escape from the prosaic matters which obtained
+from Monday to Saturday--consequently, Triffitt felt it a serious thing
+that attention to this Herapath business had come to interfere with his
+love-making and his Sunday feast of mirth and gladness. More than once he
+had been obliged to let Carver go alone to the usual rendezvous; he himself
+had been running hither and thither after chances of news which never
+materialized, while his sweetheart played gooseberry to the more favoured
+people. And as he was very much in love, Triffitt had often been tempted to
+throw his clues and his theories to the winds, and to vow himself to the
+service of Venus rather than to that of Mercury.
+
+But on that Sunday which saw the white-haired lady interviewing Peggie
+Wynne and Selwood, Triffitt, to his great delight, found that newspaper
+requirements were not going to interfere with him. The hue-and-cry after
+the missing Burchill was dying down--the police (so Davidge told Triffitt
+in strict confidence) were of the firm opinion that Burchill had escaped
+to the continent--probably within a few hours of the moment wherein he
+made his unceremonious exit from Mr. Halfpenny's office. Even Markledew was
+not so keen about the Herapath affair as he had been. His policy was--a
+new day, a new affair. The Herapath mystery was becoming a little stale--it
+would get staler unless a fresh and startling development took place. As
+it was, nothing was likely to arise which would titillate the public until
+Barthorpe Herapath, now safely lodged in the remand prison, was brought
+to trial, or unless Burchill was arrested. Consequently, Triffitt was not
+expected to make up a half or a whole column of recent and sensational
+Herapath news every morning. And so he gladly took this Sunday for a return
+to the primrose paths. He and Carver met their sweethearts; they took them
+to the Albert Hall Sunday afternoon concert--nothing better offering in
+the middle of winter--they went to tea at the sweethearts' lodgings; later
+in the evening they carried them off to the accustomed Sunday dinner.
+
+Triffitt and Carver had become thoroughly seasoned men of the world in
+the matter of finding out good places whereat to dine well and cheaply.
+They knew all the Soho restaurants. They had sampled several in Oxford
+Street and in Tottenham Court Road. But by sheer luck they had found
+one--an Italian restaurant--in South Kensington which was, in their
+opinion, superior to all of their acquaintance. This establishment had
+many advantages for lovers. To begin with, it bore a poetical name--the
+Café Venezia--Triffitt, who frequently read Byron and Shelley to his
+adored one, said it made one think of moonlight and gondolas, and
+similar adjuncts to what he called _parfaite amour_. Then it was divided
+off into little cabinets, just holding four people--that was an
+advantage when you were sure of your company. And for the _prix fixe_ of
+two shillings they gave you quite a good dinner; also their Chianti was
+of exceptional quality, and according to the proprietor, it came
+straight from Siena.
+
+On this Sunday evening, then, Triffitt on one side of a table with his
+lady-love, Carver on the other with his, made merry, with no thought of
+anything but the joys of the moment. They had arrived at the last stages
+of the feast; the heroes puffed cigarettes and sipped Benedictine; the
+heroines daintily drank their sweetened coffee. They all chattered
+gaily, out of the fulness of their youthful hearts; not one of them had
+any idea that anything was going to happen. And in the midst of their
+lightsomeness, Triffitt, who faced a mirror, started, dropped his
+cigarette, upset his liqueur glass and turned pale. For an instant he
+clutched the tablecloth, staring straight in front of him; then with a
+great effort he controlled his emotion and with a cautious hissing of
+his breath, gazed warningly at Carver.
+
+"'Sh!" whispered Triffitt. "Not a word! And don't move--don't show a
+sign, any of you. Carver--turn your head very slowly and look behind
+you. At the bar!"
+
+At the entrance to that restaurant there was a bar, whereat it was
+possible to get a drink. There were two or three men, so occupied,
+standing at this bar at that moment--Carver, leisurely turning to
+inspect them, suddenly started as violently as Triffitt had started a
+moment before.
+
+"Good heavens!" he muttered. "Burchill!"
+
+"Quiet!" commanded Triffitt. "Quiet, all of you. By Gad!--this is----"
+
+He ended in an eloquent silence and with a glare at his companions
+which would have imposed silence on an unruly class-room. He was already
+at work--the quick, sure journalistic instinct had come up on top and
+was rapidly realizing the situation. That the man standing there,
+openly, calmly, taking a drink of some sort, was Frank Burchill he had
+no more doubt than of his own identity. The thing was--what was to be
+done?
+
+Triffitt was as quick of action as of thought--in two seconds he had
+made up his mind. With another warning glance at the startled girls, he
+bent across the table to Carver.
+
+"Carver!" he whispered. "Do exactly what I tell you. When Burchill goes
+out, Trixie and I'll follow him. You pay the bill--then you and Lettie
+jump into the first taxi you can get and go to Scotland Yard. Find
+Davidge! If Davidge isn't there, get somebody else. Wait there until I
+ring you up! What I'll do will be this--we'll follow Burchill, and if I
+see that he's going to take to train or cab I'll call help and stop him.
+You follow me? As soon as I've taken action, or run him to earth, I'll
+ring up Scotland Yard, and then----"
+
+"He's going," announced Carver, who had taken advantage of the many
+mirrors to keep his eye on Burchill. "He's off! I understand----"
+
+Triffitt was already leading his sweetheart quietly out. In the gloom of
+the street he saw Burchill's tall figure striding away towards Cromwell
+Road. Triffitt's companion was an athletically inclined young woman--long
+walks in the country on summer Sundays had toughened her powers of
+locomotion and she strode out manfully in response to Triffitt's command
+to hurry up.
+
+"Lucky that you were with me, Trixie!" exclaimed Triffitt. "You make a
+splendid blind. Supposing he does look round and sees that he's being
+followed? Why, he'd never think that we were after him. Slip your hand in
+my arm--he'll think we're just a couple of sweethearts, going his way.
+Gad!--what a surprise! And what a cheek he has--with all those bills out
+against him!"
+
+"You don't think he'll shoot you if he catches sight of you?" asked
+Trixie, anxiously. "He'd be sure to recognize you, wouldn't he?"
+
+"We'll not come within shooting distance," replied Triffitt grimly. "All
+I want to do is to track him. Of course, if he gets into any vehicle,
+I'll have to act. Let's draw a bit nearer."
+
+Burchill showed no sign of hailing any vehicle; indeed, he showed no
+sign of anything but cool confidence. It was certainly nearly nine
+o'clock of a dark winter evening, but there was plenty of artificial
+light in the streets, and Burchill made no attempt to escape its glare.
+He walked on, smoking a cigar, jauntily swinging an umbrella, he passed
+and was passed by innumerable people; more than one policeman glanced at
+his tall figure and took no notice. And Triffitt chuckled cynically.
+
+"There you are, Trixie!" he said. "There's a fellow who's wanted about as
+badly as can be, whose picture's posted up outside every police-station in
+London, and at every port in England, and he walks about, and stares at
+people, and passes policemen as unconcernedly as I do. The fact of the case
+is that if I went to that bobby and pointed Burchill out, and told the
+bobby who he is, all that bobby would say would be, 'Who are you a-kiddin'
+of?'--or words to that equivalent. And so--still ahead he goes, and we
+after him! And--where?"
+
+Burchill evidently knew very well where he was going. He crossed Cromwell
+Road, went up Queen's Road, turned into Queen's Gate Terrace, and
+leisurely pursuing his way, proceeded to cut through various streets and
+thoroughfares towards Kensington High Street. Always he looked forward;
+never once did he turn nor seem to have any suspicion that he was being
+followed. There was nothing here of the furtive slink, the frightened
+slouch of the criminal escaped from justice; the man's entire bearing
+was that of fearlessness; he strode across Kensington High Street in the
+full glare of light before the Town Hall and under the noses of several
+policemen.
+
+Five minutes later Triffitt pulled himself and Trixie up with a gasp. The
+chase had come to an end--for that moment, at any rate. Boldly, openly,
+with absolute nonchalance, Burchill walked into a brilliantly-lighted
+entrance of the Herapath Flats!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+THE YORKSHIRE PROVERB
+
+
+In the course of Triffitt's brief and fairly glorious journalistic
+career, he had enjoyed and suffered a few startling experiences. He had
+been fastened up in the darker regions of a London sewer in flood,
+wondering if he would ever breathe the fine air of Fleet Street again or
+go down with the rats that scurried by him. He had been down a coal-mine
+in the bad hour which follows an explosion. He had several times risked
+his neck; his limbs had often been in danger; he had known what it was
+to feel thumpings of the heart and catchings of the breath from sheer
+fright. He had come face to face with surprise, with astonishment, with
+audacious turnings of Fortune's glass. But never in all his life had he
+been so surprised as he now was, and after one long, low whistle he
+relieved his feelings by quoting verse:
+
+ "Is things what they seem?
+ Or is visions about?
+
+"Trixie!" he went on in a low, concentrated voice. "This licks all! This
+bangs Banagher! This--but words fail me, Trixie!"
+
+"What is it, Herbert?" demanded Trixie anxiously. "What does it all
+mean?"
+
+"Ah!" responded Triffitt, wildly smiting the crown of his deerstalker.
+"That's just it! What does it all mean, my dear! Gad!--this is--to use
+the common language of the common man, a fair licker! That that chap
+Burchill should march as bold as brass into those Herapath Flats,
+is--well, I couldn't be more surprised, Trixie, than if you were to tell
+me that you are the Queen of Sheba's grand-daughter! Not so much so, in
+fact. You see----"
+
+But at that moment a taxi-cab came speeding round the corner, and from
+it presently emerged Carver and Davidge. The detective, phlegmatic,
+quiet as ever, nodded familiarly to Triffitt and lifted his hat to
+Trixie.
+
+"Evening, Mr. Triffitt," he said quietly.
+
+"He's in there!" exclaimed Triffitt, grabbing Davidge's arm and pointing
+wildly to the brilliantly lighted entrance, wherein two or three
+uniformed servants lounged about to open doors and attend to elevators.
+"Walked in as if the whole place belonged to him! You know--Burchill!"
+
+"Ah, just so!" responded Davidge unconcernedly. "Quite so--I wouldn't
+name no names in the street if I were you, Mr. Triffitt. Ah!--to be
+sure, now. Well, of course, he would have to go in somewhere, wouldn't
+he?--as well here as anywhere, perhaps. Yes. Now, if this young lady
+would join the other young lady in the cab, Mr. Carver'll escort 'em
+home, and then he can come back here if he likes--we might have a bit of
+a job for him. And when the ladies retire, you and me can do our bit of
+business, d'ye see, Mr. Triffitt. What?"
+
+Trixie, urged towards the cab, showed signs of uneasiness.
+
+"Promise me you won't get shot, or poisoned, or anything, Herbert!" she
+entreated. "If you do----"
+
+"We aren't going in for any shooting tonight, miss," said Davidge
+gravely. "Some other night, perhaps. All quiet and serene tonight--just
+a little family gathering, as it were--all pleasant!"
+
+"But that dreadful man!" exclaimed Trixie, pointing to the door of the
+flats. "Supposing----"
+
+"Ah, but we won't suppose," answered Davidge. "He's all right, he is.
+Mild as milk we shall find him--my word on it, miss. Now," he continued,
+when he had gently but firmly assisted Trixie into the cab, said a word
+or two to Carver, taken Triffitt's arm, and led him across the street,
+"now we'll talk a bit, quietly. So he's gone in there, has he, Mr.
+Triffitt? Just so. Alone, now?"
+
+"Quite alone," replied Triffitt. "What's it all about--what does it
+mean? You seem remarkably cool about it!"
+
+"I shouldn't be much use in my trade if I didn't keep cool, Mr.
+Triffitt," answered Davidge. "You see, I know a bit--perhaps a good
+deal--of what's going on--or what's going to go on, presently. So will
+you. I'll take you in there."
+
+"There? Where?" demanded Triffitt.
+
+"Where he's gone," said Davidge. "Where--if I'm not mistaken--that
+chap's going."
+
+He pointed to a man who had come quickly round the corner from the
+direction of the High Street, a middle-sized, apparently well-dressed
+man, who hurried up the broad steps and disappeared within the
+glass-panelled doors.
+
+"That's another of 'em," observed Davidge. "And I'm a Dutchman if this
+taxi-cab doesn't hold t'other two. You'll recognize them, easy."
+
+Triffitt gaped with astonishment as he saw Professor Cox-Raythwaite and
+Selwood descend from the taxi-cab, pass up the steps, and disappear.
+
+"Talk of mysteries!" he said. "This----"
+
+Davidge pulled out an old-fashioned watch.
+
+"Nine o'clock," he remarked. "Come on--we'll go in. Now, then, Mr.
+Triffitt," he continued, pressing his companion's arm, "let me give you
+a tip. You mayn't know that I'm a Yorkshireman--I am! We've a good old
+proverb--it's often cast up against us: 'Hear all--say naught!' You'll
+see me act on it tonight--act on it yourself. And--a word in your
+ear!--you're going to have the biggest surprise you ever had in your
+life--and so's a certain somebody else that we shall see in five
+minutes! Come on!"
+
+He took Triffitt's arm firmly in his, led him up the stairs, in at the
+doors. The hall-porter came forward.
+
+"Take me up," said Davidge, "to Mrs. Engledew's flat."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+BURCHILL FILLS THE STAGE
+
+
+It seemed to Triffitt, who possessed, and sedulously cultivated, a sense
+of the dramatic, that the scene to which he and Davidge were presently
+conducted by a trim and somewhat surprised-looking parlour-maid, was one
+which might have been bodily lifted from the stage of any theatre
+devoted to work of the melodramatic order. The detective and the
+reporter found themselves on the threshold of a handsomely furnished
+dining-room, vividly lighted by lamps which threw a warm pink glow over
+the old oak furniture and luxurious fittings. On one side of the big
+table sat Professor Cox-Raythwaite and Selwood both looking a little
+mystified; at the further end sat a shortish, rather fat man, obviously
+a foreigner, who betrayed anxiety in every line of his rather oily
+countenance. And posed in an elegant attitude on the hearthrug, one
+elbow resting on the black marble of the mantelpiece, one hand toying
+with a cigarette, stood Burchill, scrupulously attired as usual, and
+conveying, or endeavouring to convey to whoever looked upon him, that
+he, of all people present, was master of himself and all of the scene.
+
+Triffitt took all this in at a glance; his next glance was at the
+elegant, white-haired lady who came forward to meet him and his
+companion. Davidge gave him a nudge as he executed a duck-like bow.
+
+"Servant, ma'am," said Davidge in his quietest and coolest manner. "I
+took the liberty of bringing a friend with me. You see, ma'am, as these
+proceedings are in what we may call the public way, Mrs. Engledew, no
+objection I'm sure to having a press gentleman at them. Mr. Triffitt,
+ma'am, of the _Argus_ newspaper. Known to these gentlemen--all of
+'em--unless it's the gentleman at the far end, there. Known, at any
+rate, to Mr. Selwood and the Professor," continued Davidge, nodding with
+much familiarity to the person he named. "And likewise to Mr. Burchill
+there. How do you do, sir, this evening? You and me, I think, has met
+before, and shall no doubt meet again. Well, ma'am, and now that I've
+come, perhaps I might ask a question. What have I come for?"
+
+Davidge had kept up this flow of talk while he took stock of his
+surroundings, and now, with another nudge of his companion's elbow, he
+took a chair between the door and the table, planted himself firmly in
+it, put his hands on top of his stout stick, and propped his chin on his
+hands. He looked at Mrs. Engledew once more, and then let his eyes make
+another inspection of her guests.
+
+"What have I come for, ma'am?" he repeated. "To hear those revelations
+you spoke of when you called on me this afternoon? Just so. Well, ma'am,
+the only question now is--who's going to make 'em? For," he added,
+sitting up again after his further inspection, and bestowing a general
+smile all round, "revelations, ma'am, is what I chiefly hanker after,
+and I shall be glad--delighted!--to hear any specimens from--anybody as
+chooses to make 'em!"
+
+Mrs. Engledew looked at Burchill as she resumed her seat.
+
+"I think Mr. Burchill is the most likely person to tell you what there
+is to tell," she said. "His friend----"
+
+"Ah!--the gentleman at the other end of the table, no doubt," observed
+Davidge. "How do you do, sir? And what might that gentleman's name be,
+now?"
+
+Burchill, who had been watching the detective carefully, threw away his
+cigarette and showed an inclination to speak.
+
+"Look here, Davidge!" he said. "You know very well why you're here--you're
+here to hear the real truth about the Herapath murder! Mrs. Engledew told
+you that this afternoon, when she called on you at Scotland Yard. Now the
+only two people who know the real truth are myself and my friend there--Mr.
+Dimambro."
+
+Selwood and Cox-Raythwaite, who until then had remained in ignorance of the
+little foreigner's identity, started and looked at him with interest. So
+this was the missing witness! But Davidge remained cool and unimpressed.
+
+"Ah, just so!" he said. "Foreign gentleman, no doubt. And you and Mr.
+Dimambro are the only persons who know the real truth about that little
+affair, eh, Mr. Burchill. Very good, so as----"
+
+"As Mr. Dimambro doesn't speak English very well----" began Burchill.
+
+"I speak it--you understand--enough to say a good many words--but not so
+good as him," observed Mr. Dimambro, waving a fat hand. "He say it for
+me--for both of us, eh?"
+
+"To be sure, sir, to be sure," said Davidge. "Mr. Burchill is gifted
+that way, of course. Well, Mr. Burchill, and what might this story be,
+now? Deeply interesting, I'll be bound."
+
+Burchill pulled a chair to the table, opposite Selwood and the
+Professor. He put the tips of his fingers together and assumed an
+explanatory manner.
+
+"I shall have to begin at the beginning," he said. "You'll all please to
+follow me closely. Now, to commence--Mrs. Engledew permits me to speak for
+her as well as for Mr. Dimambro. The fact is, I can put the circumstances
+of the whole affair into a consecutive manner. And I will preface what I
+have to say by making a statement respecting a fact in the life of the late
+Mr. Herapath which will, I believe, be substantiated by Mr. Selwood, my
+successor as secretary to the deceased gentleman. Mr. Herapath, in addition
+to being an authority on the building of up-to-date flats, was also more or
+less of an expert in precious stones. He not only bought and sold in these
+things, but he gave advice to his friends in matters relating to them. Mr.
+Selwood has, I am sure, had experience of that fact?"
+
+"To a certain extent--yes," agreed Selwood. "But I had not been long
+enough in Mr. Herapath's employ to know how much he went in for that sort
+of thing."
+
+"That is immaterial," continued Burchill. "We establish the fact that
+he did. Now we come to the first chapter of our story. This lady, Mrs.
+Engledew, a tenant of this flat since the Herapath Estate was built, is
+an old acquaintance--I am permitted to say, friend--of the late Jacob
+Herapath. She occasionally consulted him on matters of business. On
+November 12th last she consulted him on another affair--though it had, of
+course, a business complexion. Mrs. Engledew, by the death of a relative,
+had just come into possession of some old family jewels--chiefly diamonds.
+These diamonds, which, Mrs. Engledew tells me, had been valued by Spinks at
+about seven thousand pounds, were in very old, considerably worn settings.
+Mrs. Engledew wished to have them reset. Knowing that Jacob Herapath had
+great taste and knowledge in that direction, she saw him at his office on
+the noon of November 12th, showed him the diamonds, and asked his advice.
+Jacob Herapath--I am giving you Mrs. Engledew's account--told her to leave
+the diamonds with him, as he was going to see, that very day, an expert in
+that line, to whom he would show the stones with the idea of his giving
+him his opinion on what ought to be done with them. Mrs. Engledew handed
+him the diamonds in a small case, which he put in his pocket. I hope,"
+added Burchill, turning to Mrs. Engledew, "that I have given all this
+quite correctly?"
+
+"Quite," assented Mrs. Engledew. "It is perfectly correct."
+
+"Then," continued Burchill, "we pass on to Mr. Dimambro. Mr. Luigi Dimambro
+is a dealer in precious stones, who resides in Genoa, but travels widely
+about Europe in pursuance of his business. Mr. Dimambro had had several
+dealings with Jacob Herapath during past years, but previous to November
+12th last they had not met for something like twelve months. On their last
+previous meeting Jacob Herapath told Mr. Dimambro that he was collecting
+pearls of a certain sort and size--specimens of which he showed him--with a
+view to presenting his niece, Miss Wynne, with a necklace which was to be
+formed of them. He gave Dimambro a commission to collect such pearls for
+him. On November 11th last Dimambro arrived in London from the Continent,
+and wrote to Mr. Herapath to tell him of his arrival, and to notify him
+that he had brought with him some pearls of the sort he wanted. Mr.
+Herapath thereupon made an appointment with Dimambro at the House of
+Commons on the evening of November 12th at half-past ten o'clock. Dimambro
+kept that appointment, showed Mr. Herapath the pearls which he had brought,
+sold them to him, and received from him, in payment for them, a cheque for
+three thousand guineas. This transaction being conducted, Mr. Herapath drew
+from his pocket (the same pocket in which he had already placed the pearls,
+which I understand, were wrapped up in a small bag or case of wash-leather)
+the diamonds which Mrs. Engledew had entrusted to him, showed them to
+Dimambro, and asked his opinion as to how they could best be reset. It
+is not material to this explanation to repeat what Dimambro said on that
+matter--suffice it to say that Dimambro gave an expert opinion, that Mr.
+Herapath once more pocketed the diamonds, and soon afterwards left the
+House of Commons for his estate offices with both lots of valuable stones
+in his possession--some ten thousand pounds' worth in all. As for Dimambro,
+he went home to the hotel at which he was stopping--a little place called
+the Ravenna, in Soho, an Italian house--next morning, first thing, he
+cashed his cheque, and before noon he left for the Continent. He had not
+heard of the murder of Jacob Herapath when he left London, and he did not
+hear of it until next day. I think I have given Mr. Dimambro's account
+accurately--his account so far," concluded Burchill, turning to the
+Italian. "If not, he will correct me."
+
+"Quite right, quite right!" said Dimambro, who had listened eagerly. "I
+do not hear of the murder, eh, until I am in Berlin--it is, yes, next
+day--day after I leave London--that I hear of it, you understand? I then
+see it in the newspaper--English news, eh?"
+
+"Why did you not come back at once?" asked Cox-Raythwaite.
+
+Dimambro spread out his hands.
+
+"Oh, I have my business--very particular," he said. "Besides, it has
+nothing to do with me, eh? I don't see no--no connection between me and
+that--no! But in time, I do come back, and then--he tell you," he broke
+off, pointing to Burchill. "He tell you better, see?"
+
+"I am taking everything in order," said Burchill. "And for the present I
+have done with Mr. Dimambro. Now I come to myself. I shall have to go
+into details about myself which I should not give if it were not for
+these exceptional circumstances. Mr. Davidge, I am sure, will understand
+me. Well, about myself--you will all remember that at both the coroner's
+inquest and at the proceedings before the magistrate at which Barthorpe
+Herapath was present and I--for reasons well known!--was not, there was
+mention made of a letter which I had written to Jacob Herapath and was
+subsequently found in Barthorpe's possession, on his arrest. That letter
+was taken to be a blackmailing letter--I don't know whether any of you
+will believe me, and I don't care whether you do or not, but I declare
+that it was not meant to be a letter of that sort, though its wording
+might set up that opinion. However, Jacob Herapath resented that letter,
+and on its receipt he wrote to me showing that it had greatly displeased
+him. Now, I did not want to displease Jacob Herapath, and on receipt of
+his letter, I determined to see him personally at once. Being, of
+course, thoroughly familiar with his habits, I knew that he generally
+left the House of Commons about a quarter past eleven, every night when
+the House was sitting. I accordingly walked down to Palace Yard,
+intending to accost him. I arrived at the entrance to the Hall soon
+after eleven. A few minutes later Mountain, the coachman, drove up with
+the coupé brougham. I remained within the shadow of the porch--there
+were other people about--several Members, and men who were with them. At
+a quarter past eleven Jacob Herapath came down the Hall, accompanied by
+Dimambro. I knew Dimambro, though I had not seen him for some time--I
+used to see him, very occasionally, during my secretaryship to Mr.
+Herapath. When I saw these two in conversation, I drew back, and neither
+of them saw me. I did not want to accost Mr. Herapath in the presence of
+a second party. I watched him part from Dimambro, and I heard him tell
+Mountain to drive to the estate office. When both he and Dimambro had
+gone, I walked out into Parliament Square, and after thinking things
+over, I hailed a passing taxi-cab, and told the driver to go to
+Kensington High Street, and to pull up by the Metropolitan Station."
+
+Burchill here paused--to give Davidge a peculiarly knowing look.
+
+"Now I want you all--and particularly Mr. Davidge--to follow closely
+what I'm going to tell you," he continued. "I got out of the cab at the
+station in the High Street, dismissed it, walked a little way along the
+street, and then crossed over and made for the Herapath Flats--for the
+estate office entrance. I think you are all very well acquainted with
+that entrance. You know that it lies in a covered carriage way which
+leads from the side-street into the big quadrangle round which the flats
+are built. As I went up the side-street, on the opposite side, mind, to
+the entrance, I saw a man come out of the covered carriage way. That
+man I knew!"
+
+Burchill made a dramatic pause, looking impressively around him amidst a
+dead silence.
+
+"Knew!" he repeated, shaking his finger at the expectant faces. "Knew
+well! But--I am not going to tell you his name at this moment. For the
+present we will call him Mr. X."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+DAVIDGE'S TRUMP CARD
+
+
+Burchill paused for a moment, to give full effect to this dramatic
+announcement, which, to tell truth, certainly impressed every member of
+his audience but one. That one skilfully concealed his real feelings
+under a show of feigned interest.
+
+"You never say!" exclaimed Davidge, dropping into a favourite colloquialism
+of his native county. "Dear me, today! A man that you knew, Mr. Burchill,
+and that for the present you'll call Mr. X. You knew him well, then?"
+
+"Better than I know you," replied Burchill. He was beginning to be
+suspicious of Davidge's tone, and his resentment of it showed in his
+answer. "Well enough to know him and not to mistake him, anyhow! And
+mind you, there was nothing surprising in his being there at that time
+of night--that's a point that you should bear in mind, Davidge--it's in
+your line, that. I knew so much of Jacob Herapath's methods and doings
+that it was quite a reasonable thing for this man to be coming out of
+the estate offices just before midnight."
+
+"Exactly, sir--I follow you," said Davidge. "Ah!--and what might this
+Mr. X. do then, Mr. Burchill?"
+
+Burchill, who had addressed his remarks chiefly to the listeners on the
+other side of the table, and notably to Cox-Raythwaite, turned away from
+the detective and went on.
+
+"This man--Mr. X," he said, "came quickly out of the door, turned down the
+side-street a little, then turned back, passed the carriage-entrance, and
+went away up the street in the opposite direction. He turned on his own
+tracks so quickly that I was certain he had seen somebody coming whom he
+did not wish to meet. He----"
+
+"Excuse me a moment," broke in Cox-Raythwaite. "How was it X. didn't see
+you?"
+
+"Because I was on the opposite side of the street, in deep shadow,"
+replied Burchill. "Besides that, the instant I caught sight of him I
+quietly slipped back into a doorway. I remained there while he turned
+and hurried up the street, for I was sure he had seen somebody coming,
+and I wanted to find out who it was. And in another minute Barthorpe
+Herapath came along, walking quickly. Then I understood--X. had seen him
+in the distance, and didn't want to meet him."
+
+"Just so, just so," murmured Davidge. "To be sure."
+
+"Barthorpe Herapath turned into the carriageway and went into the
+office," continued Burchill. "Now, as I've already said, I knew Jacob
+Herapath's methods; I hadn't served him for nothing. He was the sort of
+man who makes no distinction between day and night--it was quite a
+common thing for him to fix up business appointments with people at
+midnight. I've been present at such appointments many a time. So, I
+dare say, has Mr. Selwood; any one who acted as secretary to Jacob
+Herapath knows well that he'd think nothing of transacting business at
+three o'clock in the morning. So I knew, of course, that Barthorpe had
+gone there to keep some such appointment. I also knew that it would
+probably last some time. Now I wanted to see Jacob Herapath alone. And
+as there didn't seem to be any chance of it just then, I went home to my
+flat in Maida Vale."
+
+"Walked in?" asked Davidge.
+
+"If you're particular as to the means, I took a taxi-cab at the Gardens
+end of the High Street," replied Burchill, half-contemptuously. He
+turned his attention to Selwood and the Professor again. "Now, I'm going
+to tell you the plain truth about what happened afterwards," he
+continued. "This part of the story is for the particular benefit of you
+two gentlemen, though it has its proper connection with all the rest of
+the narrative. I sat up rather late when I got home that night, and I
+lay in bed next day until afternoon--in fact, I'd only just risen when
+Barthorpe Herapath called on me at three o'clock. Now, as I don't have
+papers delivered, but go out to buy what I want, it's the fact that I
+never heard of Jacob Herapath's murder until Barthorpe told me of it,
+then! That's the truth. And I'll at once anticipate the question that
+you'll naturally want to ask. Why didn't I at once tell Barthorpe of
+what I'd seen the night before?--of the presence of the man whom we're
+calling Mr. X.?"
+
+"Just so!" murmured Davidge. "Ah, yes, why not?"
+
+"I'll tell you," continued Burchill. "Because Barthorpe immediately
+sprang upon me the matter of the will. And I just as immediately
+recognized--I think I may count myself as a quick thinker--that the
+really important matter just then was not the murder of Jacob Herapath,
+but the ultimate disposal of Jacob Herapath's immense wealth."
+
+"Clever!" sighed Davidge. "Uncommonly clever!"
+
+"Now, Professor Cox-Raythwaite, and you, Mr. Selwood," Burchill went on,
+adding new earnestness to his tone. "I want you to fully understand that
+I'm giving you the exact truth. I firmly believed at that moment, and I
+continued to believe until the eventful conference at Mr. Halfpenny's
+office, that the gentleman whom I had known as Mr. Tertius was in
+reality Arthur John Wynne, forger and ex-convict. I say I firmly
+believed it, and I'll tell you why. During my secretaryship to Jacob
+Herapath, he one day asked me to clear out a box full of old papers and
+documents. In doing so I came across an old North-country newspaper
+which contained a full account of the trial at Lancaster Assizes of
+Arthur John Wynne on various charges of forgery. Jacob Herapath's name,
+of course, cropped up in it, as a relative. The similarity of the names
+of Jacob Herapath's ward, Miss Wynne, and that of the forger, roused my
+suspicions, and I not only put two and two together, but I made some
+inquiries privately, and I formed the definite conclusion that Tertius
+and Wynne were identical, and that the semi-mystery of Tertius's
+residence in Jacob Herapath's house was then fully accounted for. So
+when Barthorpe told me what he did, and explained his anxiety about the
+will, I saw my way to upsetting that will, for his benefit and for my
+own. If I swore that I'd never signed that will, and could prove that
+Tertius was Wynne, the forger, why then, of course, the will would be
+upset, for it seemed to me that any jury would believe that Tertius, or
+Wynne, had forged the will for his daughter's benefit. And so Barthorpe
+and I fixed that up. Reprehensible, no doubt, gentlemen, but we all have
+to live, and besides, Barthorpe promised me that he'd treat Miss Wynne
+most handsomely. Well, that procedure was settled--with the result that
+we're all aware of. And now I'd like to ask Mr. Davidge there a
+question--as I'm about to tell him who the real murderer of Jacob
+Herapath was, perhaps he'll answer it. I take it, Davidge, that the only
+evidence you had against me in regard to the murder was the document
+which you found at my flat, by which Barthorpe Herapath promised to pay
+me ten per cent. on the value of the Herapath estate? That and the fact
+that Barthorpe and I were in league about the will? Come now--as all's
+being cleared up, isn't that so?"
+
+Davidge rubbed his chin with affected indifference.
+
+"Oh, well, you can put it down at something like that, if you like, Mr.
+Burchill," he answered. "You're a very clever young fellow, and I dare
+say you're as well aware of what the law about accessories is as I am.
+'Tisn't necessary for a party to a murder to be actually present at the
+execution of the crime, sir--no! And there's such a thing as being
+accessory after the crime--of course. Leave it at that, Mr. Burchill,
+leave it at that!"
+
+Cox-Raythwaite, who had been eyeing Burchill with ill-concealed disgust,
+spoke sharply.
+
+"And--the rest?" he asked.
+
+"I'm going along in order," answered Burchill coolly. "Well, I come to
+the time when Davidge there arrested Barthorpe and myself at Halfpenny
+and Farthing's, and when I escaped. There's no need to tell you what I
+did with myself," he went on, with an obvious sneer in the detective's
+direction. "But I can tell you that I didn't particularly restrict my
+movements. And eventually--a few days ago--I come into touch with
+Dimambro, who had returned to England. As I said before, we had met
+during the time I was secretary to Jacob Herapath. Dimambro, when I met
+him--accidentally--was on his way to the police, to tell them what he
+knew. I stopped him--he told his story to me instead. I told him mine.
+And the result of our deliberations was that we got an interview--at
+least I did--with Mrs. Engledew here, with respect to the diamonds which
+she had entrusted to Jacob Herapath. And----"
+
+"I should like to ask you a question, Mrs. Engledew," said Cox-Raythwaite,
+interrupting Burchill without ceremony. "Why did you not inform the police
+about your diamonds as soon as you heard of the murder?"
+
+Mrs. Engledew betrayed slight signs of confusion, and Davidge gave the
+questioner a look.
+
+"I think if I were you, I shouldn't go into that matter just now,
+Professor," he said apologetically. "Ladies, you know, have their reasons
+for these little--what shall we call 'em?--peculiarities. No, I wouldn't
+press that point, sir. We're having a nice, straight story--quite like
+a printed one!--from Mr. Burchill there, and I think we'd better let
+him come to what we may term the last chapter in his own way--what?"
+
+"I'm at the last chapter," said Burchill. "And it's a short one. I saw Mrs.
+Engledew and made certain arrangements with her. And just after they were
+made--yesterday in fact--Dimambro and I got a new piece of evidence. When
+Dimambro was collecting those pearls for Jacob Herapath he bought some
+from a well-known dealer in Amsterdam, a specialist in pearls. Yesterday,
+Dimambro got a letter from this man telling him that a small parcel of
+those very pearls had been sent to him from London, for sale. He gave
+Dimambro the name and address of the sender, who, of course, was the Mr. X.
+of whom I have spoken. So then Dimambro and I resolved to act, through Mrs.
+Engledew----"
+
+"For a slight consideration, I think," suggested Davidge dryly. "A matter
+of a little cheque, I believe, Mr. Burchill."
+
+"We've quite as much right to be paid for our detective services,
+amateur though they are, as you have for yours, Davidge," retorted
+Burchill. "However, I've come to an end, and it only remains for me to
+tell you who Mr. X. really is. He hasn't the slightest notion that he's
+suspected, and if you and your men, Davidge, go round to his house,
+which isn't half a mile away, you'll probably find him eating his Sunday
+evening supper in peace and quietness. The man is----"
+
+Davidge suddenly rose from his chair, nudging Triffitt as he moved. He
+laughed--and the laugh made Burchill start to his feet.
+
+"You needn't trouble yourself, Mr. Burchill!" said Davidge. "Much
+obliged to you for your talk, there's nothing like letting some folks
+wag their tongues till they're tired. I know who murdered Jacob Herapath
+as well as you do, and who your Mr. X. is. Jacob Herapath, gentlemen,"
+he added, turning to his astonished listeners, "was shot dead and robbed
+by his office manager, James Frankton, and if James Frankton's eating
+his Sunday supper in peace and quietness, it's in one of our cells, for
+I arrested him at seven o'clock this very evening--and with no help from
+you, Mr. Burchill! I'm not quite such a fool as I may look, my lad, and
+if I made one mistake when I let you slip I didn't make another when I
+got on the track of the real man. And now, ma'am," he concluded, with an
+old-fashioned bow to Mrs. Engledew, "there's no more to be said--by me,
+at all events, and I've the honour to wish you a good night. Mr.
+Triffitt--we'll depart."
+
+Outside, Davidge took the reporter's arm in a firm grip, and chuckled as
+he led him towards the elevator.
+
+"That's surprise one!" he whispered. "Wait till we get downstairs and
+into the street, and you'll have another, and it'll be of a bit livelier
+nature!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+THE SECOND WARRANT
+
+
+Davidge preserved a strict silence as he and Triffitt went down in the
+elevator, but when they had reached the ground floor he took the
+reporter's arm again, and as they crossed the entrance hall gave it a
+significant squeeze.
+
+"You'll see two or three rather heavy swells, some of 'em in evening
+dress, hanging about the door," he murmured. "Look like residents,
+coming in or going out, puffing their cigars and their cigarettes, eh?
+They're my men--all of 'em! Take no notice--there'll be your friend
+Carver outside--I gave him a hint. Join him, and hang about--you'll have
+something to do a bit of newspaper copy about presently."
+
+Triffitt, greatly mystified, joined Carver at the edge of the pavement
+outside the wide entrance door. Glancing around him he saw several men
+lounging about--two, of eminently military appearance, with evening
+dress under their overcoats, stood chatting on the lower steps; two or
+three others, all very prosperous looking, were talking close by. There
+was nothing in their outward show to arouse suspicion--at any other
+time, and under any other circumstances Triffitt would certainly have
+taken them for residents of the Herapath Flats. Carver, however, winked
+at him.
+
+"Detectives," he said. "They've gathered here while you were upstairs.
+What's up now, Triffitt? Heard anything?"
+
+"Piles!" answered Triffitt. "Heaps! But I don't know what this is all
+about. Some new departure. Hullo!--here's the secretary and the
+Professor."
+
+Cox-Raythwaite and Selwood just then appeared at the entrance door and
+began to descend the steps. Davidge, who had stopped on the steps to
+speak to a man, hailed and drew them aside.
+
+"What has gone on up there?" asked Carver. "Anything really----"
+
+Triffitt suddenly grasped his companion's shoulder, twisting him round
+towards the door. His lips emitted a warning to silence; his eyes
+signalled Carver to look.
+
+Burchill came out of the doors, closely followed by Dimambro. Jauntily
+swinging his walking-cane he began to descend, affecting utter
+unconsciousness of the presence of Cox-Raythwaite, Selwood, and Davidge.
+He passed close by the men in evening dress, brushing the sleeve of one.
+And the man thus brushed turned quickly, and his companion turned
+too--and then something happened that made the two reporters exclaim
+joyfully and run up the steps.
+
+"Gad!--that was quick--quick!" exclaimed Triffitt, with the delight of a
+schoolboy. "Never saw the bracelets put on more neatly. Bully for you,
+Davidge, old man!--got him this time, anyhow!"
+
+Burchill, taken aback by the sudden onslaught of Davidge's satellites,
+drew himself up indignantly and looked down at his bands, around the
+wrists of which his captors had snapped a pair of handcuffs. He lifted a
+face white with rage and passion and glanced at Cox-Raythwaite and
+Selwood.
+
+"Liars!" he hissed between his teeth. "You gave me safe conduct! It was
+understood that I was to come and go without interference, you hounds!"
+
+"Not with me, nor I should think with anybody, my lad," exclaimed
+Davidge, bustling forward. "Not likely! You forget that you're under
+arrest for the old charge yet, and though you'll get off for that, you
+won't go scot-free, my friend! I've got a second warrant for you, and
+the charge'll be read to you when you get to the station. You'll clear
+yourself of the charge of murder, but not of t'other charge, I'm
+thinking!"
+
+"Second warrant! Another charge!" growled Burchill. "What charge?"
+
+"I should think you know as well as I do," replied Davidge quietly.
+"You're a bigger fool than I take you for if you don't. Conspiracy, of
+course! It's a good thing to have two strings to one's bow, Mr. Frank
+Burchill, in dealing with birds like you. This is my second string. Take
+him off," he added, motioning to his men, "and get him searched, and put
+everything carefully aside for me--especially a cheque for ten thousand
+pounds which you'll find in one of his pockets."
+
+When the detectives had hurried Burchill into a taxi-cab which suddenly
+sprang into useful proximity to the excited group, Davidge spat on the
+ground and made a face. He motioned Cox-Raythwaite, Selwood, and the
+two reporters to go down the street; he himself turned to Dimambro. What
+he said to that highly-excited gentleman they did not hear, but the
+Italian presently walked off looking very crestfallen, while Davidge,
+joining them, looked highly pleased with himself.
+
+"Of course, you'll stop payment of that cheque at the bank first thing
+tomorrow, gentlemen," he said. "Though that'll only be for form's sake,
+because I shall take charge of it when I go round to the police-station
+presently--they'll have got Burchill searched when I get there. Of
+course, I wasn't going to say anything up there, but Mrs. Engledew has
+been in with us at this, and she took Burchill and Dimambro in as
+beautifully as ever I saw it done in my life! Clever woman, that! We
+knew about her diamonds, gentlemen, within a few hours of the discovery
+of the murder, and of course, I thought Barthorpe had got them; I did,
+mistaken though I was! I didn't want anybody to know about those
+diamonds, though, and I kept it all dark until these fellows came on the
+scene. And, anyway, we didn't get the real culprit through the diamonds,
+either!"
+
+"That's what we want to know," said Selwood. "Have you got the real
+culprit? Are you certain? And how on earth did you get him--a man that
+none of us ever suspected!"
+
+"Just so!" answered Davidge with a grim laugh. "As nice and quiet-mannered
+a man as ever I entered as a candidate for the gallows! It's very often
+the case, gentlemen. Oh, yes--it's true enough! He's confessed--crumpled
+up like a bit of tissue paper when we took him--confessed everything to me
+just before I came along here. Of course we didn't get him through anything
+we've heard tonight; quite different line altogether, and a simple one."
+
+"We should like to know about it," said Cox-Raythwaite. "Can't you give
+us a mere outline?"
+
+"I was going to," answered Davidge. "No secret about it. I may as well
+tell you that after hearing what Barthorpe Herapath insisted on saying
+before the magistrate, I began to feel that he was very likely telling
+the truth, and that somebody'd murdered and robbed his uncle just before
+he got to the offices. But, of course, there was nothing to connect the
+murder and robbery with any person that I knew of. Well, now then, this
+is how we got on the track. Only two or three days ago a little, quiet
+man, who turned out to be a bit of a property-owner down at Fulham, came
+to me and said that ever since Mr. Jacob Herapath's murder he'd been
+what he called studying over it, and he thought he ought to tell me
+something. He said he was a very slow thinker, and it had taken him a
+long time to think all this out. Then he told me his tale. He said that
+for some time Jacob Herapath had been waiting to buy a certain bit of
+land which he had to sell. On November 12th last he called to see Jacob
+at these offices, and they agreed on the matter, price to be £5,000.
+Jacob told him to come in at ten o'clock next morning, and in accordance
+with his usual way of doing business, he'd hand him the money in
+cash--notes, of course. Well, the chap called next morning, only to hear
+of what had happened, and so his business had fallen through. And it
+wasn't until some time later--he's a bit of a slow-witted fellow,
+dullish of brain, you understand," continued Davidge indulgently, "that
+he remembered a certain conversation, or rather a remark which Jacob
+Herapath made during that deal. This man, James Frankton, the manager,
+was present when the deal was being effected, and when they'd concluded
+terms, Jacob said, turning to Frankton. 'I'll get the money in notes
+from the bank this afternoon, Frankton, and if I don't give it to you in
+the meantime, you'll find the notes in the top left-hand drawer of my
+desk tomorrow morning.' Well, that was what the man told me; said he'd
+been bothering his brains in wondering if Jacob did draw that money, and
+so on--Frankton, of course, had told him that he knew nothing about it,
+and that as Jacob was dead, no more could be done in the matter. Now on
+that, I at once began some inquiries. I found out a thing or two--never
+mind what--one was to trace a hundred pound note which Frankton had
+cashed recently. I found, only yesterday morning, that that note was one
+of fifty similar notes paid to Jacob Herapath by his bankers in exchange
+for his own cheque on the afternoon of November 12th. And, on that, I
+had Frankton watched all yesterday, last night, and today, and as I
+said, I arrested him tonight--and, in all my experience I never saw a
+man more surprised, and never knew one who so lost his nerve."
+
+"And his confession?" asked Selwood.
+
+"Oh! ordinary," answered Davidge. "Jacob had made an appointment with
+him for half-past eleven or so. Got there a bit late, found his master
+sitting at his desk with a wad of bank notes on the blotting-pad, a
+paper of pearls on one side of him, a lot of diamond ornaments at the
+other--big temptation to a chap, who, as it turns out, was hard up, and
+had got into the hands of money-lenders. And, oh, just the ordinary
+thing in such cases, happened to have on him a revolver that he'd bought
+abroad, yielded to temptation, shot his man, took money and valuables,
+went home, and turned up at the office next day to lift his hands in
+horror at the dreadful news. You see what truth is, gentlemen, when you
+get at it--just a common, vulgar murder, for the sake of robbery. And
+he'll swing!"
+
+"'Just a common, vulgar murder, and he'll swing!'" softly repeated
+Cox-Raythwaite, as he and Selwood walked up the steps of the house in
+Portman Square half an hour later. "Well, that's solved, anyway. As for
+the other two----"
+
+"I suppose there's no doubt of their guilt with respect to their
+conspiring to upset the will?" said Selwood. "And that's a serious
+offence, isn't it?"
+
+"In this eminently commercial country, very," answered Cox-Raythwaite,
+sententiously. "Barthorpe and Burchill will inevitably retire to the
+shelter of a convict establishment for awhile. Um! Well, my boy, good
+night!"
+
+"Not coming in?" asked Selwood, as he put a key in the latch.
+
+The Professor gave his companion's shoulder a pressure of his big hand.
+
+"I think," he said, turning down the steps with a shy laugh, "I think
+Peggie will prefer to receive you--alone."
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+ _THE MYSTERY STORIES OF_
+
+ _J . S . F L E T C H E R_
+
+ "_We always feel as though we were really spreading happiness when we
+ can announce a genuinely satisfactory mystery story, such as J. S.
+ Fletcher's new one._"--N. P. D. in the New York Globe.
+
+THE MIDDLE TEMPLE MURDER [1918]
+
+"Unquestionably, _the_ detective story of the season and, therefore, one
+which no lover of detective fiction should miss."--_The Broadside._
+
+THE TALLEYRAND MAXIM [1920]
+
+"A crackerjack mystery tale; the story of Linford Pratt, who earnestly
+desired to get on in life, by hook or by crook--with no objection
+whatever to crookedness, so long at it could be performed in safety and
+secrecy."--_Knickerbocker Press._
+
+THE PARADISE MYSTERY [1920]
+
+"As a weaver of detective tales Mr. Fletcher is entitled to a seat among
+the elect. His numerous followers will find his latest book fully as
+absorbing as anything from his pen that has previously appeared."--_New
+York Times._
+
+DEAD MEN'S MONEY [1920]
+
+"The story is one that holds the reader with more than the mere interest
+of sensational events; Mr. Fletcher writes in a notable style."--_Newark
+Evening News._
+
+THE ORANGE-YELLOW DIAMOND [1921]
+
+". . . A rattling good yarn. . . . An uncommonly well written tale."--_New
+York Times._
+
+THE CHESTERMARKE INSTINCT [1921]
+
+"Mr. Fletcher is a master of plot. . . . To tell a story as well as this
+is a literary achievement."--_Boston Transcript._
+
+THE BOROUGH TREASURER [1921]
+
+"As mystifying a tale as even Mr. Fletcher himself has written."--_New
+York Times._
+
+THE HERAPATH PROPERTY [1921]
+
+Numerous complications lead from the murder of Jacob Herapath and the
+search for his will.
+
+SCARHAVEN KEEP [1922]
+
+The mystery of the disappearance of Bassett Oliver, famous actor.
+
+RAVENSDENE COURT [1922]
+
+Two men are struck down by an unseen hand, at the same time in widely
+separated places--who killed them?
+
+ _$2.00 net each at all booksellers or from the Publisher_
+
+ ALFRED A. KNOPF, New York.
+
+
+
+
+TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES
+
+
+The advertisement "The Mystery Stories of J. S. Fletcher" has been moved
+from the front of the book to the back.
+
+Spacing around ellipses and em-dashes is as in the original.
+
+The following corrections have been applied:
+
+ Advertisement: "As mystifying{original had mystifyng} a tale as
+ even Mr. Fletcher himself has written."
+
+ Page vi: XXIV{original had XIV} COLD STEEL
+
+ Page 18: but when she had left the room to make ready for the
+ drive Mr.{original omitted period} Tertius turned to Selwood.
+
+ Page 66: the detective, armed with a magnifying glass, was
+ examining the edges of the door, the smooth backs of chairs,
+ even the surface of the desk, presumably for
+ finger-marks{original had fingermarks}.
+
+ Page 72: "Mr. Selwood!" she exclaimed imploringly. "You--I
+ can't.{The original text has no em-dash, and it's not clear what
+ the author's intention was.} You open it, and--"
+
+ Page 85: "Pardon," interrupted Burchill, "a{original had A}
+ holograph?
+
+ Page 128: And it was as well that he was not looking{original
+ had look-} at Triffitt
+
+ Page 160: perhaps you'll{original had you'l} drop me a line and
+ make an appointment at your office some day--then I'll call,
+ d'you see?"{original omitted closing quotation mark}
+
+ Page 166: "So long as justice is done," remarked
+ Peggie.{original omitted period}
+
+ Page 178: There were peculiarities about the fellow, said
+ Triffitt{original had Triffit}, which you couldn't forget
+
+ Page 186: "All right," said Triffitt, "keep{original had Keep} a
+ still tongue as regards me
+
+ Page 186: {original had a quotation mark here}Outside Triffitt
+ gave his companion's arm a confidential squeeze.
+
+ Page 187: Markledew{original had Markledek} listened to
+ Triffitt's story next day in his usual rapt silence.
+
+ Page 196: "Then we'll get to work," said Davidge. "{original
+ omitted quotation mark}Mr. Triffitt, I can't ask you to come
+ with us
+
+ Page 201: "I haven't{original had haven'} the least objection
+ to Cox-Raythwaite's presence, nor yours," said Barthorpe.
+
+ Page 211: Peggie Wynne, who during Barthorpe's last speech had
+ manifested signs of a desire to speak, and had begun to produce
+ a sealed packet from her muff.{original had a superfluous
+ quotation mark here}
+
+ Page 214: as they{original had ast hey} went on, quietly rose
+ from his chair.
+
+ Page 218: Is it not probable that if he wanted to make a will
+ he{original had be} would have employed me
+
+ Page 273: Peggie{original had Peggy} Wynne had never been so
+ glad of anything in her life as for Selwood's immediate presence
+ at that moment
+
+ Page 287: You follow me? As soon as I've taken action, or run
+ him to earth, I'll ring up Scotland Yard, and{original had an}
+ then----"
+
+ Page 293: "Nine o'clock," he remarked. "{original omitted this
+ quotation mark}Come on--we'll go in. Now, then, Mr. Triffitt,"
+ he continued,
+
+The following unusual spellings are as printed:
+
+ Page 143: He flung Markledew's half-sheet of notepaper before
+ the news editor, and the news editor, seeing the great man's
+ sprawling caligraphy{sic}, read, wonderingly:--
+
+The following words appear with and without a hyphen. They have been
+left as in the original.
+
+ bank-notes/banknotes
+
+ business-like/businesslike
+
+ hearth-rug/hearthrug
+
+ note-book/notebook
+
+ note-paper/notepaper
+
+ parlour-maid/parlourmaid
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Herapath Property, by J. S. Fletcher
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HERAPATH PROPERTY ***
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Herapath Property, by J. S. Fletcher
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Herapath Property
+
+Author: J. S. Fletcher
+
+Release Date: May 8, 2008 [EBook #25388]
+Last updated: January 31, 2009
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HERAPATH PROPERTY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Andrew Wainwright, Suzanne Shell and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter w40">
+<img class="w100 noborder" src="images/cover01.jpg" alt="Book Cover" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="ad1 pad1top" />
+
+<p class="s2 notop nobot">THE</p>
+<p class="s1 notop nobot">HERAPATH</p>
+<p class="s1 notop nobot">PROPERTY</p>
+
+<hr class="ad3 pad2bot" />
+
+<p class="s5 nobot">BY</p>
+
+<p class="s4 notop pad2bot">J. S. FLETCHER</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter w15">
+<img class="w100" src="images/publogo.jpg" alt="Publisher&rsquo;s Logo" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="pad4top ad1" />
+
+<p class="s6 nobot notop">NEW YORK</p>
+<p class="s5 notop nobot">ALFRED &middot; A &middot; KNOPF</p>
+<p class="s6 notop nobot">MCMXXII</p>
+
+<hr class="ad3 pad4bot" />
+
+<p class="s6">COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY<br />
+ALFRED A. KNOPF, <span class="smcap">Inc.</span></p>
+
+<p class="s7"><i>Published October, 1921</i></p>
+
+<p class="s7 pad2bot"><i>Second Printing, May, 1922</i></p>
+
+<p class="s7">PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg&nbsp;v]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a id="CONTENTS" name="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<div class="center"><table class="iefix" summary="Table of Contents">
+<tr><td class="r smcap">chapter</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">I</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">Jacob Herapath is Missing, 9</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">II</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">Is it Murder? 18</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">III</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">Barthorpe Takes Charge, 27</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">IV</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">The Pressman, 36</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">V</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">The Glass and the Sandwich, 45</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">VI</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">The Taxi-cab Driver, 54</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">VII</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">Is There a Will? 64</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">VIII</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">The Second Witness, 74</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">IX</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">Greek Against Greek, 83</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">X</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">Mr. Benjamin Halfpenny, 91</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XI</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">The Shadow, 100</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XII</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">For Ten Per Cent, 109</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XIII</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">Adjourned, 118</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XIV</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">The Scottish Verdict, 127</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XV</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">Young Brains, 136</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XVI</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">Nameless Fear, 145</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XVII</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">The Law, 154</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XVIII</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">The Rosewood Box, 163</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XIX</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">Weaving the Net, 172</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XX</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">The Diamond Ring, 181</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="r"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg&nbsp;vi]</a></span>XXI</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">The Deserted Flat, 190</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XXII</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">Yea and Nay, 199</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XXIII</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">The Accusation, 208</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XXIV</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">Cold Steel, 217</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XXV</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">Professional Analysis, 226</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XXVI</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">The Remand Prison, 235</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XXVII</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">The Last Cheque, 244</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XXVIII</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">The Hotel Ravenna, 253</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XXIX</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">The Note in the Prayer-book, 263</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XXX</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">The White-haired Lady, 273</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XXXI</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">The Interrupted Dinner-party, 283</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XXXII</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">The Yorkshire Proverb, 290</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XXXIII</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">Burchill Fills the Stage, 294</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XXXIV</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">Davidge&rsquo;s Trump Card, 304</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="r">XXXV</td><td class="toctd"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV">The Second Warrant, 312</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h1>THE<br />
+HERAPATH<br />
+PROPERTY</h1>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg&nbsp;9]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">jacob herapath is missing</p>
+
+<p>This was the third week of Selwood&rsquo;s secretaryship to Jacob Herapath.
+Herapath was a well-known man in London. He was a Member of Parliament,
+the owner of a sort of model estate of up-to-date flats, and something
+of a crank about such matters as ventilation, sanitation, and lighting.
+He himself, a bachelor, lived in one of the best houses in Portman
+Square; when he engaged Selwood as his secretary he made him take a
+convenient set of rooms in Upper Seymour Street, close by. He also
+caused a telephone communication to be set up between his own house and
+Selwood&rsquo;s bedroom, so that he could summon his secretary at any hour of
+the night. Herapath occasionally had notions about things in the small
+hours, and he was one of those active, restless persons who, if they get
+a new idea, like to figure on it at once. All the same, during those
+three weeks he had not once troubled his secretary in this fashion. No
+call came to Selwood over that telephone until half-past seven one
+November morning, just as he was thinking of getting out of bed. And the
+voice which then greeted him was not Herapath&rsquo;s. It was a rather
+anxious, troubled voice, and it belonged to one Kitteridge, a
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg&nbsp;10]</a></span>
+
+middle-aged man, who was Herapath&rsquo;s butler.</p>
+
+<p>In the act of summoning Selwood, Kitteridge was evidently interrupted by
+some person at his elbow; all that Selwood made out was that Kitteridge
+wanted him to go round at once. He dressed hurriedly, and ran off to
+Herapath&rsquo;s house; there in the hall, near the door of a room which
+Herapath used as a study and business room, he found Kitteridge talking
+to Mountain, Herapath&rsquo;s coachman, who, judging by the state of his
+attire, had also been called hurriedly from his bed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is it, Kitteridge?&rdquo; demanded Selwood. &ldquo;Mr. Herapath ill?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The butler shook his head and jerked his thumb towards the open door of
+the study.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The fact is, we don&rsquo;t know where Mr. Herapath is, sir,&rdquo; he answered.
+&ldquo;He hasn&rsquo;t slept in his bed, and he isn&rsquo;t in the house.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Possibly he didn&rsquo;t come home last night,&rdquo; suggested Selwood. &ldquo;He may
+have slept at his club, or at an hotel.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The butler and the coachman looked at each other&mdash;then the coachman, a
+little, sharp-eyed man who was meditatively chewing a bit of straw,
+opened his tightly-compressed lips.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He did come home, sir,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I drove him home&mdash;as usual. I saw him
+let himself into the house. One o&rsquo;clock sharp, that was. Oh, yes, he
+came home!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg&nbsp;11]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He came home,&rdquo; repeated Kitteridge. &ldquo;Look here, sir.&rdquo; He led the way
+into the study and pointed to a small table set by the side of
+Herapath&rsquo;s big business desk. &ldquo;You see that tray, Mr. Selwood? That&rsquo;s
+always left out, there, on that table, for Mr. Herapath every night. A
+small decanter of whiskey, a syphon, a few sandwiches, a dry biscuit or
+two. Well, there you are, sir&mdash;he&rsquo;s had a drink out of that glass, he&rsquo;s
+had a mouthful or so of sandwiches. Oh, yes, he came home, but he&rsquo;s not
+at home now! Charlesworth&mdash;the valet, you know, sir&mdash;always goes into
+Mr. Herapath&rsquo;s room at a quarter past seven every morning; when he went
+in just now he found that Mr. Herapath wasn&rsquo;t there, and the bed hadn&rsquo;t
+been slept in. So&mdash;that&rsquo;s where things stand.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood looked round the room. The curtains had not yet been drawn
+aside, and the electric light cast a cold glare on the various
+well-known objects and fittings. He glanced at the evidences of the
+supper tray; then at the blotting-pad on Herapath&rsquo;s desk; there he might
+have left a note for his butler or his secretary. But there was no note
+to be seen.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Still, I don&rsquo;t see that there&rsquo;s anything to be alarmed about,
+Kitteridge,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Mr. Herapath may have wanted to go somewhere by a
+very early morning train&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg&nbsp;12]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir, excuse me, that won&rsquo;t do,&rdquo; broke in the butler. &ldquo;I thought of
+that myself. But if he&rsquo;d wanted to catch a night train, he&rsquo;d have taken
+a travelling coat, and a rug, and a bag of some sort&mdash;he&rsquo;s taken nothing
+at all in that way. Besides, I&rsquo;ve been in this house seven years, and I
+know his habits. If he&rsquo;d wanted to go away by one of the very early
+morning trains he&rsquo;d have kept me and Charlesworth up, making ready for
+him. No, sir! He came home, and went out again&mdash;must have done.
+And&mdash;it&rsquo;s uncommonly queer. Seven years I&rsquo;ve been here, as I say, and he
+never did such a thing before.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood turned to the coachman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You brought Mr. Herapath home at one o&rsquo;clock?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Alone?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg&nbsp;13]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He was alone, sir,&rdquo; replied the coachman, who had been staring around
+him as if to seek some solution of the mystery. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you all that
+happened&mdash;I was just beginning to tell Mr. Kitteridge here when you come
+in. I fetched Mr. Herapath from the House of Commons last night at a
+quarter past eleven&mdash;took him up in Palace Yard at the usual spot, just
+as the clock was striking. &lsquo;Mountain,&rsquo; he says, &lsquo;I want you to drive
+round to the estate office&mdash;I want to call there.&rsquo; So I drove
+there&mdash;that&rsquo;s in Kensington, as you know, sir. When he got out he says,
+&lsquo;Mountain,&rsquo; he says, &lsquo;I shall be three-quarters of an hour or so
+here&mdash;wrap the mare up and walk her about,&rsquo; he says. I did as he said,
+but he was more than three-quarters&mdash;it was like an hour. Then at last
+he came back to the brougham, just said one word, &lsquo;Home!&rsquo; and I drove
+him here, and the clocks were striking one when he got out. He said
+&lsquo;Good night,&rsquo; and I saw him walk up the steps and put his key in the
+latch as I drove off to our stables. And that&rsquo;s all I know about it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood turned to the butler.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I suppose no one was up at that time?&rdquo; he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nobody, sir,&rdquo; answered Kitteridge. &ldquo;There never is. Mr. Herapath, as
+you&rsquo;ve no doubt observed, is a bit strict in the matter of rules, and
+it&rsquo;s one of his rules that everybody in the house must be in bed by
+eleven-thirty. No one was ever to sit up for him on any occasion. That&rsquo;s
+why this supper-tray was always left ready. His usual time for coming in
+when he&rsquo;d been at the House was twelve o&rsquo;clock.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Everybody in the house might be in bed,&rdquo; observed Selwood, &ldquo;but not
+everybody might be asleep. Have you made any inquiry as to whether
+anybody heard Mr. Herapath moving about in the night, or leaving the
+house? Somebody may have heard the hall door opened and closed, you
+know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll make inquiry as to that, sir,&rdquo; responded Kitteridge, &ldquo;but I&rsquo;ve
+heard nothing of the sort so far, and all the servants are aware by now
+that Mr. Herapath isn&rsquo;t in the house. If anybody had heard anything&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Before the butler could say more the study door opened and a girl came
+into the room. At sight of her Selwood spoke hurriedly to Kitteridge.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Have you told Miss Wynne?&rdquo; he whispered. &ldquo;Does she know?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg&nbsp;14]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She may have heard from her maid, sir,&rdquo; replied Kitteridge in low
+tones. &ldquo;Of course they&rsquo;re all talking of it. I was going to ask to see
+Miss Wynne as soon as she was dressed.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>By that time the girl had advanced towards the three men, and Selwood
+stepped forward to meet her. He knew her as Herapath&rsquo;s niece, the
+daughter of a dead sister of whom Herapath had been very fond; he knew,
+too, that Herapath had brought her up from infancy and treated her as a
+daughter. She was at this time a young woman of twenty-one or two, a
+pretty, eminently likeable young woman, with signs of character and
+resource in eyes and lips, and Selwood had seen enough of her to feel
+sure that in any disturbing event she would keep her head. She spoke
+calmly enough as the secretary met her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s all this, Mr. Selwood?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;I understand my uncle is not
+in the house. But there&rsquo;s nothing alarming in that, Kitteridge, is
+there? Mr. Herapath may have gone away during the night, you know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Kitteridge thinks that highly improbable,&rdquo; replied Selwood. &ldquo;He says
+that Mr. Herapath had made no preparation for a sudden journey, has
+taken no travelling coat or rug, or luggage of any sort.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did he come in from the House?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;Perhaps not?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Kitteridge pointed to the supper-tray and then indicated the coachman.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg&nbsp;15]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He came in as usual, miss,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;Or rather an hour later than
+usual. Mountain brought him home at one o&rsquo;clock, and he saw him let
+himself in with his latch-key.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peggie Wynne turned to the coachman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re sure that he entered the house?&rdquo; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;As sure as I could be, miss,&rdquo; replied Mountain. &ldquo;He was putting his key
+in the door when I drove off.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He must have come in,&rdquo; said Kitteridge, pointing to the tray. &ldquo;He had
+something after he got in.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, go and tell the servants not to talk, Kitteridge,&rdquo; said Peggie.
+&ldquo;My uncle, no doubt, had reasons for going out again. Have you said
+anything to Mr. Tertius?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Tertius isn&rsquo;t down yet, miss,&rdquo; answered the butler.</p>
+
+<p>He left the room, followed by the coachman, and Peggie turned to
+Selwood. &ldquo;What do you think?&rdquo; she asked, with a slight show of anxiety.
+&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t know of any reason for this, do you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;None,&rdquo; replied Selwood. &ldquo;And as to what I think, I don&rsquo;t know
+sufficient about Mr. Herapath&rsquo;s habits to be able to judge.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He never did anything like this before,&rdquo; she remarked. &ldquo;I know that he
+sometimes gets up in the middle of the night and comes down here, but I
+never knew him to go out. If he&rsquo;d been setting off on a sudden journey
+he&rsquo;d surely have let me know. Perhaps&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg&nbsp;16]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She paused suddenly, seeing Selwood lift his eyes from the papers
+strewn about the desk to the door. She, too, turned in the same
+direction.</p>
+
+<p>A man had come quietly into the room&mdash;a slightly-built, little man,
+grey-bearded, delicate-looking, whose eyes were obscured by a pair of
+dark-tinted spectacles. He moved gently and with an air of habitual
+shyness, and Selwood, who was naturally observant, saw that his lips and
+his hands were trembling slightly as he came towards them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Tertius,&rdquo; said Peggie, &ldquo;do you know anything about Uncle Jacob? He
+came in during the night&mdash;one o&rsquo;clock&mdash;and now he&rsquo;s disappeared. Did he
+say anything to you about going away early this morning?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No&mdash;no&mdash;nothing!&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;Disappeared! Is it certain he came in?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mountain saw him come in,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Besides, he had a drink out of
+that glass, and he ate something from the tray&mdash;see!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius bent his spectacled eyes over the supper tray and remained
+looking at what he saw there for a while. Then he looked up, and at
+Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Strange!&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;And yet, you know, he is a man who does things
+without saying a word to any one. Have you, now, thought of telephoning
+to the estate office? He may have gone there.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peggie, who had dropped into the chair at Herapath&rsquo;s desk, immediately
+jumped up.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg&nbsp;17]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course we must do that at once!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;Come to the
+telephone, Mr. Selwood&mdash;we may hear something.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She and Selwood left the room together. When they had gone, Mr. Tertius
+once more bent over the supper tray. He picked up the empty glass,
+handling it delicately; he held it between himself and the electric
+light over the desk; he narrowly inspected it, inside and out. Then he
+turned his attention to the plate of sandwiches. One sandwich had been
+taken from the plate and bitten into&mdash;once. Mr. Tertius took up that
+sandwich with the tips of his delicately-shaped fingers. He held that,
+too, nearer the light. And having looked at it he hastily selected an
+envelope from the stationery cabinet on the desk, carefully placed the
+sandwich within it, and set off to his own rooms in the upper part of
+the house. As he passed through the hall he heard Selwood at the
+telephone, which was installed in a small apartment at the foot of the
+stairs&mdash;he was evidently already in communication with some one at the
+Herapath Estate Office.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius went straight to his room, stayed there a couple of minutes,
+and went downstairs again. Selwood and Peggie Wynne were just coming
+away from the telephone; they looked up at him with faces grave with
+concern.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;re wanted at the estate office,&rdquo; said Selwood. &ldquo;The caretaker was
+just going to ring us up when I got through to him. Something is
+wrong&mdash;wrong with Mr. Herapath.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg&nbsp;18]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">is it murder?</p>
+
+<p>It struck Selwood, afterwards, as a significant thing that it was
+neither he nor Mr. Tertius who took the first steps towards immediate
+action. Even as he spoke, Peggie was summoning the butler, and her
+orders were clear and precise.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Kitteridge,&rdquo; she said quietly, &ldquo;order Robson to bring the car round at
+once&mdash;as quickly as possible. In the meantime, send some coffee into the
+breakfast-room&mdash;breakfast itself must wait until we return. Make haste,
+Kitteridge.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood turned on her with a doubtful look.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&mdash;you aren&rsquo;t going down there?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course I am!&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;Do you think I should wait
+here&mdash;wondering what had happened? We will all go&mdash;come and have some
+coffee, both of you, while we wait for the car.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The two followed her into the breakfast-room and silently drank the
+coffee which she presently poured out for them. She, too, was silent,
+but when she had left the room to make ready for the drive Mr. Tertius
+turned to Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You heard&mdash;what?&rdquo; he asked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg&nbsp;19]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing definite,&rdquo; answered Selwood. &ldquo;All I heard was that Mr.
+Herapath was there, and there was something seriously wrong, and would
+we go down at once.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius made no comment. He became thoughtful and abstracted, and
+remained so during the journey down to Kensington. Peggie, too, said
+nothing as they sped along; as for Selwood, he was wondering what had
+happened, and reflecting on this sudden stirring up of mystery. There
+was mystery within that car&mdash;in the person of Mr. Tertius. During his
+three weeks&rsquo; knowledge of the Herapath household Selwood had constantly
+wondered who Mr. Tertius was, what his exact relationship was, what his
+position really was. He knew that he lived in Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s house,
+but in a sense he was not of the family. He seldom presented himself at
+Herapath&rsquo;s table, he was rarely seen about the house; Selwood remembered
+seeing him occasionally in Herapath&rsquo;s study or in Peggie Wynne&rsquo;s
+drawing-room. He had learnt sufficient to know that Mr. Tertius had
+rooms of his own in the house; two rooms in some upper region; one room
+on the ground-floor. Once Selwood had gained a peep into that
+ground-floor room, and had seen that it was filled with books, and that
+its table was crowded with papers, and he had formed the notion that Mr.
+Tertius was some book-worm or antiquary, to whom Jacob Herapath for some
+reason or other gave house-room. That he was no relation Selwood judged
+from the way in which he was always addressed by Herapath and by Peggie
+Wynne. To them as to all the servants he was Mr. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg&nbsp;20]</a></span>Tertius&mdash;whether that
+was his surname or not, Selwood did not know.</p>
+
+<p>There was nothing mysterious or doubtful about the great pile of
+buildings at which the automobile presently stopped. They were practical
+and concrete facts. Most people in London knew the famous Herapath
+Flats&mdash;they had aroused public interest from the time that their founder
+began building them.</p>
+
+<p>Jacob Herapath, a speculator in real estate, had always cherished a
+notion of building a mass of high-class residential flats on the most
+modern lines. Nothing of the sort which he contemplated, he said,
+existed in London&mdash;when the opportunity came he would show the building
+world what could and should be done. The opportunity came when a parcel
+of land in Kensington fell into the market&mdash;Jacob Herapath made haste to
+purchase it, and he immediately began building on it. The result was a
+magnificent mass of buildings which possessed every advantage and
+convenience&mdash;to live in a Herapath flat was to live in luxury.
+Incidentally, no one could live in one who was not prepared to pay a
+rental of anything from five to fifteen hundred a year. The gross rental
+of the Herapath Flats was enormous&mdash;the net profits were enough to make
+even a wealthy man&rsquo;s mouth water. And Selwood, who already knew all
+this, wondered, as they drove away, where all this wealth would go if
+anything had really happened to its creator.</p>
+
+<p>The entrance to the Herapath estate office was in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg&nbsp;21]</a></span>an archway which led
+to one of the inner squares of the great buildings. When the car stopped
+at it, Selwood saw that there were police within the open doorway. One
+of them, an inspector, came forward, looking dubiously at Peggie Wynne.
+Selwood hastened out of the car and made for him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m Mr. Herapath&rsquo;s secretary&mdash;Mr. Selwood,&rdquo; he said, drawing the
+inspector out of earshot. &ldquo;Is anything seriously wrong?&mdash;better tell me
+before Miss Wynne hears. He isn&rsquo;t&mdash;dead?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The inspector gave him a warning look.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s it, sir,&rdquo; he answered in a low voice. &ldquo;Found dead by the
+caretaker in his private office. And it&rsquo;s here&mdash;Mr. Selwood, it&rsquo;s either
+suicide or murder. That&rsquo;s flat!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood got his two companions inside the building and into a
+waiting-room. Peggie turned on him at once.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I see you know,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Tell me at once what it is. Don&rsquo;t be
+afraid, Mr. Selwood&mdash;I&rsquo;m not likely to faint nor to go into hysterics.
+Neither is Mr. Tertius. Tell us&mdash;is it the worst?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Selwood. &ldquo;It is.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He is dead?&rdquo; she asked in a low voice. &ldquo;You are sure? Dead?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood bent his head by way of answer; when he looked up again the girl
+had bent hers, but she quickly lifted it, and except that she had grown
+pale, she showed no outward sign of shock or emotion. As for Mr.
+Tertius, he, too, was calm&mdash;and it was he who first broke the silence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg&nbsp;22]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How was it?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;A seizure?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood hesitated. Then, seeing that he had to deal with two people who
+were obviously in full control of themselves, he decided to tell the
+truth.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid you must be prepared to hear some unpleasant news,&rdquo; he said,
+with a glance at the inspector, who just then quietly entered the room.
+&ldquo;The police say it is either a case of suicide or of murder.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peggie looked sharply from Selwood to the police official, and a sudden
+flush of colour flamed into her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Suicide?&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;Never! Murder? That may be. Tell me what you
+have found,&rdquo; she went on eagerly. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t keep things back!&mdash;don&rsquo;t you
+see I want to know?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The inspector closed the door and came nearer to where the three were
+standing.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Perhaps I&rsquo;d better tell you what we do know,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Our station was
+rung up by the caretaker here at five minutes past eight. He said Mr.
+Herapath had just been found lying on the floor of his private room, and
+they were sure something was wrong, and would we come round. I came
+myself with one of our plain-clothes men who happened to be in, and our
+surgeon followed us a few minutes later. We found Mr. Herapath lying
+across the hearthrug in his private room, quite dead. Close by&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; He
+paused and looked dubiously at Peggie. &ldquo;The details are not pleasant,&rdquo;
+he said meaningly. &ldquo;Shall I omit them?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg&nbsp;23]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No!&rdquo; answered Peggie with decision. &ldquo;Please omit nothing. Tell us
+all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There was a revolver lying close by Mr. Herapath&rsquo;s right hand,&rdquo;
+continued the inspector. &ldquo;One chamber had been discharged. Mr. Herapath
+had been shot through the right temple, evidently at close quarters. I
+should say&mdash;and our surgeon says&mdash;he had died instantly. And&mdash;I think
+that&rsquo;s all I need say just now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peggie, who had listened to this with unmoved countenance, involuntarily
+stepped towards the door.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let us go to him,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I suppose he&rsquo;s still here?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But there Selwood, just as involuntarily, asserted an uncontrollable
+instinct. He put himself between the door and the girl.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No!&rdquo; he said firmly, wondering at himself for his insistence. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t!
+There&rsquo;s no need for that&mdash;yet. You mustn&rsquo;t go. Mr. Tertius&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Better not just yet, miss,&rdquo; broke in the inspector. &ldquo;The doctor is
+still here. Afterwards, perhaps. If you would wait here while these
+gentlemen go with me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peggie hesitated a moment; then she turned away and sat down.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; she said.</p>
+
+<p>The inspector silently motioned the two men to follow him; with his hand
+on the door Selwood turned again to Peggie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You will stay here?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You won&rsquo;t follow us?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg&nbsp;24]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I shall stay here,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;Stop a minute&mdash;there&rsquo;s one thing
+that should be thought of. My cousin Barthorpe&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Barthorpe Herapath has been sent for, miss&mdash;he&rsquo;ll be here
+presently,&rdquo; replied the inspector. &ldquo;The caretaker&rsquo;s telephoned to him.
+Now gentlemen.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He led the way along a corridor to a room with which Selwood was
+familiar enough&mdash;an apartment of some size which Jacob Herapath used as
+a business office and kept sacred to himself and his secretary. When he
+was in it no one ever entered that room except at Herapath&rsquo;s bidding;
+now there were strangers in it who had come there unbidden, and Herapath
+lay in their midst, silent for ever. They had laid the lifeless body on
+a couch, and Selwood and Mr. Tertius bent over it for a moment before
+they turned to the other men in the room. The dead face was calm enough;
+there was no trace of sudden fear on it, no signs of surprise or anger
+or violent passion.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you&rsquo;ll look here, gentlemen,&rdquo; said the police-inspector, motioning
+them towards the broad hearthrug. &ldquo;This is how things were&mdash;nothing had
+been touched when we arrived. He was lying from there to here&mdash;he&rsquo;d
+evidently slipped down and sideways out of that chair, and had fallen
+across the rug. The revolver was lying a few inches from his right hand.
+Here it is.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He pulled open a drawer as he spoke and produced a revolver which he
+carefully handled as he showed it to Selwood and Mr. Tertius.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg&nbsp;25]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Have either of you gentlemen ever seen that before?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;I
+mean&mdash;do you recognize it as having belonged to&mdash;him? You don&rsquo;t? Never
+seen it before, either of you? Well, of course he might have kept a
+revolver in his private desk or in his safe, and nobody would have
+known. We shall have to make an exhaustive search and see if we can find
+any cartridges or anything. However, that&rsquo;s what we found&mdash;and, as I
+said before, one chamber had been discharged. The doctor here says the
+revolver had been fired at close quarters.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius, who had watched and listened with marked attention, turned
+to the police surgeon.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The wound may have been self-inflicted?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;From the position of the body, and of the revolver, there is strong
+presumption that it was,&rdquo; replied the doctor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yet&mdash;it may not have been?&rdquo; suggested Mr. Tertius, mildly.</p>
+
+<p>The doctor shrugged his shoulders. It was easy to see what his own
+opinion was.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It may not have been&mdash;as you say,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;But if he was shot by
+some other person&mdash;murdered, that is&mdash;the murderer must have been
+standing either close at his side, or immediately behind him. Of this I
+am certain&mdash;he was sitting in that chair, at his desk, when the shot was
+fired.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And&mdash;what would the immediate effect be?&rdquo; asked Mr. Tertius.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg&nbsp;26]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He would probably start violently, make as if to rise, drop forward
+against the desk and gradually&mdash;but quickly&mdash;subside to the floor in the
+position in which he was found,&rdquo; replied the doctor. &ldquo;As he fell he
+would relinquish his grip on the revolver&mdash;it is invariably a tight grip
+in these cases&mdash;and it would fall&mdash;just where it was found.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Still, there is nothing to disprove the theory that the revolver may
+have been placed&mdash;where it was found?&rdquo; suggested Mr. Tertius.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, certainly it may have been placed there!&rdquo; said the doctor, with
+another shrug of the shoulders. &ldquo;A cool and calculating murderer may
+have placed it there, of course.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just so,&rdquo; agreed Mr. Tertius. He remained silently gazing at the
+hearthrug for a while; then he turned to the doctor again. &ldquo;Now, how
+long do you think Mr. Herapath had been dead when you were called to the
+body?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Quite eight hours,&rdquo; answered the doctor promptly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Eight hours!&rdquo; exclaimed Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;And you first saw him at&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A quarter past eight,&rdquo; said the doctor. &ldquo;I should say he died just
+about midnight.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Midnight!&rdquo; murmured Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;Midnight? Then&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Before he could say more, a policeman, stationed in the corridor
+outside, opened the door of the room, and glancing at his inspector,
+announced the arrival of Mr. Barthorpe Herapath.</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg&nbsp;27]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">barthorpe takes charge</p>
+
+<p>The man who strode into the room as the policeman threw the door open
+for him immediately made two distinct impressions on the inspector and
+the doctor, neither of whom had ever seen him before. The first was that
+he instantly conveyed a sense of alert coolness and self-possession; the
+second that, allowing for differences of age, he was singularly like the
+dead man who lay in their midst. Both were tall, well-made men; both
+were clean-shaven; both were much alike as to feature and appearance.
+Apart from the fact that Jacob Herapath was a man of sixty and
+grey-haired, and his nephew one of thirty to thirty-five and
+dark-haired, they were very much alike&mdash;the same mould of nose, mouth,
+and chin, the same strength of form. The doctor noted this resemblance
+particularly, and he involuntarily glanced from the living to the dead.</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe Herapath bent over his dead uncle for no more than a minute.
+His face was impassive, almost stern as he turned to the others. He
+nodded slightly to Mr. Tertius and to Selwood; then he gave his
+attention to the officials.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg&nbsp;28]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes?&rdquo; he said inquiringly and yet with a certain tone of command. &ldquo;Now
+tell me all you know of this.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He stood listening silently, with concentrated attention, as the
+inspector put him in possession of the facts already known. He made no
+comment, asked no questions, until the inspector had finished; then he
+turned to Selwood, almost pointedly ignoring Mr. Tertius.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is known of this in Portman Square, Mr. Selwood?&rdquo; he inquired.
+&ldquo;Tell me, briefly.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood, who had only met Barthorpe Herapath once or twice, and who had
+formed an instinctive and peculiar dislike to him, for which he could
+not account, accepted the invitation to be brief. In a few words he told
+exactly what had happened at Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s house.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My cousin is here, then?&rdquo; exclaimed Barthorpe.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Miss Wynne is in the larger waiting-room down the corridor,&rdquo; replied
+Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will go to her in a minute,&rdquo; said Barthorpe. &ldquo;Now, inspector, there
+are certain things to be done at once. There will, of course, have to be
+an inquest&mdash;your people must give immediate notice to the coroner.
+Then&mdash;the body&mdash;that must be properly attended to&mdash;that, too, you will
+see about. Before you go away yourself, I want you to join me in
+collecting all the evidence we can get on the spot. You have one of your
+detective staff here?&mdash;good. Now, have you searched&mdash;him?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The inspector drew open a drawer in the front <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg&nbsp;29]</a></span>desk which occupied the
+centre of the room, and pointed to some articles which lay within.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Everything that we found upon him is in there,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;You see
+there is not much&mdash;watch and chain, pocket articles, a purse, some loose
+money, a pocket-book, a cigar-case&mdash;that&rsquo;s all. One matter I should have
+expected to find, we didn&rsquo;t find.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s that?&rdquo; asked Barthorpe quickly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Keys,&rdquo; answered the inspector. &ldquo;We found no keys on him&mdash;not even a
+latch-key. Yet he must have let himself in here, and I understand from
+the caretaker that he must have unlocked this door after he&rsquo;d entered by
+the outer one.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe made no immediate answer beyond a murmur of perplexity.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Strange,&rdquo; he said after a pause, during which he bent over the open
+drawer. &ldquo;However, that&rsquo;s one of the things to be gone into. Close that
+drawer, lock it up, and for the present keep the key yourself&mdash;you and I
+will examine the contents later. Now for these immediate inquiries. Mr.
+Selwood, will you please telephone at once to Portman Square and tell
+Kitteridge to send Mountain, the coachman, here&mdash;instantly. Tell
+Kitteridge to come with him. Inspector, will you see to this arrangement
+we spoke of, and also tell the caretaker that we shall want him
+presently? Now I will go to my cousin.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg&nbsp;30]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He strode off, still alert, composed, almost bustling in his demeanour,
+to the waiting-room in which they had left Peggie&mdash;a moment later,
+Selwood, following him down the corridor, saw him enter and close the
+door. And Selwood cursed himself for a fool for hating to think that
+these two should be closeted together, for disliking the notion that
+Barthorpe Herapath was Peggie Wynne&rsquo;s cousin&mdash;and now, probably, her
+guardian protector. For during those three weeks in which he had been
+Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s secretary, Selwood had seen a good deal of his
+employer&rsquo;s niece, and he was already well over the verge of falling in
+love with her, and was furious with himself for daring to think of a
+girl who was surely one of the richest heiresses in London. He was angry
+with himself, too, for disliking Barthorpe, for he was inclined to
+cultivate common-sense, and common-sense coldly reminded him that he did
+not know Barthorpe Herapath well enough to either like or dislike him.</p>
+
+<p>Half an hour passed&mdash;affairs suggestive of the tragedy of the night went
+on in the Herapath Estate Office. Two women in the garb of professional
+nurses came quietly, and passed into the room where Herapath lay dead. A
+man arrayed in dismal black came after them, summoned by the police who
+were busy at the telephone as soon as Selwood had finished with it.
+Selwood himself, having summoned Kitteridge and Mountain, hung about,
+waiting. He heard the police talking in undertones of clues and
+theories, and of a coroner&rsquo;s inquest, and the like; now and then he
+looked curiously at Mr. Tertius, who had taken a seat in the hall and
+was apparently wrapped in meditation. And still Barthorpe Herapath
+remained closeted with Peggie Wynne.</p>
+
+<p>A taxi drove up and deposited the butler and the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg&nbsp;31]</a></span>coachman at the door.
+Selwood motioned them inside.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Barthorpe Herapath wants both of you,&rdquo; he said curtly. &ldquo;I suppose
+he will ask for you presently.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Kitteridge let out an anxious inquiry.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The master, sir?&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;Is&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good heavens!&rdquo; muttered Selwood. &ldquo;I&mdash;of course, you don&rsquo;t know. Mr.
+Herapath is dead.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The two servants started and stared at each other. Before either could
+speak Barthorpe Herapath suddenly emerged from the waiting-room and
+looked round the hall. He beckoned to the inspector, who was talking in
+low tones with the detective, at a little distance.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, inspector,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;will you and your officer come in? And the
+caretaker&mdash;and you, Kitteridge, and you, Mountain. Mr. Selwood, will you
+come in, too?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He stood at the door while those he had invited inside passed into the
+room where Peggie still sat. And as he stood there, and Selwood wound up
+the little procession, Mr. Tertius rose and also made as if to join the
+others. Barthorpe stopped him by intruding himself between him and the
+door.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This is a private inquiry of my own, Mr. Tertius,&rdquo; he said, with a
+meaning look.</p>
+
+<p>Selwood, turning in sheer surprise at this announcement, so pointed and
+so unmistakable, saw a faint tinge of colour mount to the elder man&rsquo;s
+usually pale cheeks. Mr. Tertius stopped sharply and looked at Barthorpe
+in genuine surprise.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg&nbsp;32]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You do not wish me to enter&mdash;to be present?&rdquo; he faltered.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Frankly, I don&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said Barthorpe, with aggressive plainness. &ldquo;There
+will be a public inquiry&mdash;I can&rsquo;t stop you from attending that.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius drew back. He stood for a moment staring hard at Barthorpe;
+then, with a slight, scarcely perceivable bow, he turned away, crossed
+the hall, and went out of the front door. And Barthorpe Herapath
+laughed&mdash;a low, sneering laugh&mdash;and following the other men into the
+waiting-room, locked the door upon those assembled there. As if he and
+they were assembled on some cut-and-dried business matter, he waved them
+all to chairs, and himself dropped into one at the head of the table,
+close to that in which Peggie was sitting.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg&nbsp;33]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, inspector,&rdquo; he began, &ldquo;you and I must get what we may as well call
+first information about this matter. There will be a vast amount of
+special and particular investigation later on, but I want us, at the
+very outset, while facts are fresh in the mind, to get certain
+happenings clearly before us. And for this reason&mdash;I understand that the
+police-surgeon is of opinion that my uncle committed suicide. With all
+respect to him&mdash;I&rsquo;m sorry he&rsquo;s gone before I could talk to him&mdash;that
+theory cannot be held for an instant! My cousin, Miss Wynne, and I knew
+our uncle far too well to believe that theory for a single moment, and
+we shall combat it by every means in our power when the inquest is held.
+No&mdash;my uncle was murdered! Now I want to know all I can get to know of
+his movements last night. And first I think we&rsquo;ll hear what the
+caretaker can tell us. Hancock,&rdquo; he continued, turning to an elderly man
+who looked like an ex-soldier, &ldquo;I understand you found my uncle&rsquo;s body?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The caretaker, obviously much upset by the affairs of the morning,
+pulled himself up to attention.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I did, sir,&rdquo; he replied.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What time was that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just eight o&rsquo;clock, sir&mdash;that&rsquo;s my usual time for opening the office.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tell us exactly how you found him, Hancock.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I opened the door of Mr. Herapath&rsquo;s private room, sir, to pull up the
+blinds and open the window. When I walked in I saw him lying across the
+hearth-rug. Then I noticed the&mdash;the revolver.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And of course that gave you a turn. What did you do? Go into the room?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir! I shut the door again, went straight to the telephone and rang
+up the police-station. Then I waited at the front door till the
+inspector there came along.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Was the front door fastened as usual when you went to it at that time?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was fastened as it always is, sir, by the latch. It was Mr.
+Herapath&rsquo;s particular orders that it never should be fastened any other
+way at night, because he sometimes came in at night, with his
+latch-key.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg&nbsp;34]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just so. Now these offices are quite apart and distinct from the rest
+of the building&mdash;mark that, inspector! There&rsquo;s no way out of them into
+the building, nor any way out of the building into them. In fact, the
+only entrance into these offices is by the front door. Isn&rsquo;t that so,
+Hancock?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s quite so, sir&mdash;only that one door.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No area entrance or side-door?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;None, sir&mdash;nothing but that.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And the only tenants in here&mdash;these offices&mdash;at night are you and your
+wife, Hancock?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s all, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, where are your rooms?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;ve two rooms in the basement, sir&mdash;living-room and kitchen&mdash;and two
+rooms on the top floor&mdash;a bedroom and a bathroom.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On the top-floor. How many floors are there?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, sir, there&rsquo;s the basement&mdash;then there&rsquo;s this&mdash;then there&rsquo;s two
+floors that&rsquo;s used by the clerks&mdash;then there&rsquo;s ours.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s to say there are two floors between your bedroom and this ground
+floor?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, sir&mdash;two.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very well. Now, about last night. What time did you and your wife go to
+bed?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Eleven o&rsquo;clock, sir&mdash;half an hour later than usual.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;d previously looked round, I suppose?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Been all round, sir&mdash;I always look into every room in the place last
+thing at night&mdash;thoroughly.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Are you and your wife sound sleepers?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, sir&mdash;both of us. Good sleepers.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You heard no sound after you got to bed?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing, sir&mdash;neither of us.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg&nbsp;35]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No recollection of hearing a revolver shot?&mdash;not even as if it were a
+long way off?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir&mdash;we never heard anything&mdash;nothing unusual, at any rate.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You heard no sound of doors opening or being shut, nor of any
+conveyance coming to the door?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir, nothing at all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, one or two more questions, Hancock. You didn&rsquo;t go into the room
+after first catching sight of the body? Just so&mdash;but you&rsquo;d notice
+things, even in a hurried glance. Did you notice any sign of a
+struggle&mdash;overturned chair or anything?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir. I did notice that Mr. Herapath&rsquo;s elbow chair, that he always
+sat in at his desk, was pushed back a bit, and was a bit on one side as
+it were. That was all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And the light&mdash;the electric light? Was that on?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then all you can tell us comes to this&mdash;that you never heard anything,
+and had no notion of what was happening, or had happened, until you came
+down in the morning?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just so, sir. If I&rsquo;d known what was going on, or had gone on, I should
+have been down at once.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe nodded and turned to the coachman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, Mountain,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We want to hear your story. Be careful about
+your facts&mdash;what you can tell us is probably of the utmost importance.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg&nbsp;36]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">the pressman</p>
+
+<p>The coachman, thus admonished, unconsciously edged his chair a little
+nearer to the table at which Barthorpe Herapath sat, and looked
+anxiously at his interrogator. He was a little, shrewd-eyed fellow, and
+it seemed to Selwood, who had watched him carefully during the informal
+examination to which Barthorpe had subjected the caretaker, that he had
+begun to think deeply over some new presentiment of this mystery which
+was slowly shaping itself in his mind.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I understand, Mountain, that you fetched Mr. Herapath from the House of
+Commons last night?&rdquo; began Barthorpe. &ldquo;You fetched him in the brougham,
+I believe?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; answered the coachman. &ldquo;Mr. Herapath always had the brougham
+at night&mdash;and most times, too, sir. Never took kindly to the motor,
+sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where did you meet him, Mountain?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Usual place, sir&mdash;in Palace Yard&mdash;just outside the Hall.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What time was that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Quarter past eleven, exactly, sir&mdash;the clock was just chiming the
+quarter as he came out.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg&nbsp;37]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Was Mr. Herapath alone when he came out?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No sir. He came out with another gentleman&mdash;a stranger to me, sir. The
+two of &rsquo;em stood talking a bit a yard or two away from the brougham.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did you hear anything they said?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just a word or two from Mr. Herapath, sir, as him and the other
+gentleman parted.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What were they?&mdash;tell us the words, as near as you can remember.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Herapath said, &lsquo;Have it ready for me tomorrow, and I&rsquo;ll look in at
+your place about noon.&rsquo; That&rsquo;s all, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What happened then?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The other gentleman went off across the Yard, sir, and Mr. Herapath
+came to the brougham, and told me to drive him to the estate
+office&mdash;here, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You drove him up to this door, I suppose?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir. Mr. Herapath never was driven up to the door&mdash;he always got
+out of the brougham in the road outside and walked up the archway. He
+did that last night.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;From where you pulled up could you see if there was any light in these
+offices?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir&mdash;I pulled up just short of the entrance to the archway.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did Mr. Herapath say anything to you when he got out?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, sir. He said he should most likely be three-quarters of an hour
+here, and that I&rsquo;d better put a rug over the mare and walk her about.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg&nbsp;38]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then I suppose he went up the archway. Now, did you see anybody about
+the entrance? Did you see any person waiting as if to meet him? Did he
+meet anybody?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I saw no one, sir. As soon as he&rsquo;d gone up the archway I threw a rug
+over the mare and walked her round and round the square across the
+road.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You heard and saw nothing of him until he came out again?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And how long was he away from you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nearer an hour than three-quarters, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Were you in full view of the entrance all that time?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir, I wasn&rsquo;t. Some of the time I was&mdash;some of it I&rsquo;d my back to
+it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You never saw any one enter the archway during the time Mr. Herapath
+was in the office?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All the same, some one could have come here during that time without
+your seeing him?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, yes, sir!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, at last Mr. Herapath came out. Where did he rejoin you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In the middle of the road, sir&mdash;right opposite that statue in the
+Square gardens.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did he say anything particular then?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir. He walked sharply across, opened the door, said &lsquo;Home&rsquo; and
+jumped in.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You didn&rsquo;t notice anything unusual about him?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing, sir&mdash;unless it was that he hung his head down rather as he
+came across&mdash;same as if he was thinking hard, sir.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg&nbsp;39]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You drove straight home to Portman Square, then. What time did you get
+there?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Exactly one o&rsquo;clock, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re certain about that time?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Certain, sir. It was just five minutes past one when I drove into our
+mews.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, then, be careful about this, Mountain. I want to know exactly what
+happened when you drove up to the house. Tell us in your own way.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The coachman looked round amongst the listeners as if he were a little
+perplexed. &ldquo;Why, sir,&rdquo; he answered, turning back to Barthorpe, &ldquo;there
+was nothing happened! At least, I mean to say, there was nothing
+happened that didn&rsquo;t always happen on such occasions&mdash;Mr. Herapath got
+out of the brougham, shut the door, said &lsquo;Good night,&rsquo; and went up the
+steps, taking his latch-key out of his pocket as he crossed the
+pavement, sir. That was all, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did you actually see him enter the house?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo; replied Mountain, with a decisive shake of the head. &ldquo;I
+couldn&rsquo;t say that I did that. I saw him just putting the key in the
+latch as I drove off.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And that&rsquo;s all you know?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s all I know, sir&mdash;all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe, after a moment&rsquo;s hesitation, turned to the police-inspector.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is there anything that occurs to you?&rdquo; he asked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg&nbsp;40]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One or two things occur to me,&rdquo; answered the inspector. &ldquo;But I&rsquo;m not
+going to ask any questions now. I suppose all you want at present is to
+get a rough notion of how things were last night?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just so,&rdquo; assented Barthorpe. &ldquo;A rough notion&mdash;that&rsquo;s it. Well,
+Kitteridge, it&rsquo;s your turn. Who found out that Mr. Herapath wasn&rsquo;t in
+the house this morning?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Charlesworth, sir&mdash;Mr. Herapath&rsquo;s valet,&rdquo; replied the butler. &ldquo;He
+always called Mr. Herapath at a quarter past seven every morning. When
+he went into the bedroom this morning Mr. Herapath wasn&rsquo;t there, and the
+bed hadn&rsquo;t been slept in. Then Charlesworth came and told me, sir, and
+of course I went to the study at once, and then I saw that, wherever Mr.
+Herapath might be then, he certainly had been home.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You judged that from&mdash;what?&rdquo; asked Barthorpe.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, sir, it&rsquo;s been the rule to leave a supper-tray out for Mr.
+Herapath. Not much, sir&mdash;whisky and soda, a sandwich or two, a dry
+biscuit. I saw that he&rsquo;d had something, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Somebody else might have had it&mdash;eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, sir, but then you see, I&rsquo;d had Mountain fetched by that time, and
+he told me that he&rsquo;d seen Mr. Herapath letting himself in at one
+o&rsquo;clock. So of course I knew the master had been in.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg&nbsp;41]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe hesitated, seemed to ponder matters for a moment, and then
+rose. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think we need go into things any further just now,&rdquo; he
+said. &ldquo;You, Kitteridge, and you, Mountain, can go home. Don&rsquo;t talk&mdash;that
+is, don&rsquo;t talk any more than is necessary. I suppose,&rdquo; he went on,
+turning to the inspector when the two servants and the caretaker had
+left the room. &ldquo;I suppose you&rsquo;ll see to all the arrangements we spoke
+of?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They&rsquo;re being carried out already,&rdquo; answered the inspector. &ldquo;Of
+course,&rdquo; he added, drawing closer to Barthorpe and speaking in lower
+tones, &ldquo;when the body&rsquo;s been removed, you&rsquo;ll join me in making a
+thorough inspection of the room? We haven&rsquo;t done that yet, you know, and
+it should be done. Wouldn&rsquo;t it be best,&rdquo; he continued with a glance at
+Peggie and a further lowering of his voice, &ldquo;if the young lady went back
+to Portman Square?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just so, just so&mdash;I&rsquo;ll see to it,&rdquo; answered Barthorpe. &ldquo;You go and keep
+people out of the way for a few minutes, and I&rsquo;ll get her off.&rdquo; He
+turned to his cousin when the two officers had left the room and
+motioned her to rise. &ldquo;Now, Peggie,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you must go home. I shall
+come along there myself in an hour or two&mdash;there are things to be done
+which you and I must do together. Mr. Selwood&mdash;will you take Miss Wynne
+out to the car? And then, please, come back to me&mdash;I want your
+assistance for a while.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peggie walked out of the room and to the car without demur or comment.
+But as she was about to take her seat she turned to Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why didn&rsquo;t Mr. Tertius come into the room just now?&rdquo; she demanded.</p>
+
+<p>Selwood hesitated. Until then he had thought that Peggie had heard the
+brief exchange of words between Barthorpe and Mr. Tertius at the door.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg&nbsp;42]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Didn&rsquo;t you hear what was said at the door when we were all coming in?&rdquo;
+he asked suddenly, looking attentively at her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I heard my cousin and Mr. Tertius talking, but I couldn&rsquo;t catch what
+was said,&rdquo; she replied. &ldquo;If you did, tell me&mdash;I want to know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Barthorpe Herapath refused to admit Mr. Tertius,&rdquo; said Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Refused?&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;Refused?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Refused,&rdquo; repeated Selwood. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s all I know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peggie sat down and gave him an enigmatic look.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You, of course, will come back to the house when&mdash;when you&rsquo;ve finished
+here?&rdquo; she said.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know&mdash;I suppose&mdash;really, I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; answered Selwood. &ldquo;You
+see, I&mdash;I, of course, don&rsquo;t know exactly where I am, now. I suppose I
+must take my orders from&mdash;your cousin.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peggie gave him another look, more enigmatic than the other.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s nonsense!&rdquo; she said sharply. &ldquo;Of course, you&rsquo;ll come. Do
+whatever it is that Barthorpe wants just now, but come on to Portman
+Square as soon as you&rsquo;ve done it&mdash;I want you. Go straight home, Robson,&rdquo;
+she went on, turning to the chauffeur.</p>
+
+<p>Selwood turned slowly and unwillingly back to the office door as the car
+moved off. And as he set his foot on the first step a young man came
+running up the entry&mdash;not hurrying but running&mdash;and caught him up and
+hailed him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg&nbsp;43]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Selwood?&rdquo; he said, pantingly. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll excuse me&mdash;you&rsquo;re Mr.
+Herapath&rsquo;s secretary, aren&rsquo;t you?&mdash;I&rsquo;ve seen you with him. I&rsquo;m Mr.
+Triffitt, of the <i>Argus</i>&mdash;I happened to call in at the police-station
+just now, and they told me of what had happened here, so I rushed along.
+Will you tell me all about it, Mr. Selwood?&mdash;it&rsquo;ll be a real scoop for
+me&mdash;I&rsquo;ll hustle down to the office with it at once, and we&rsquo;ll have a
+special out in no time. And whether you know it or not, that&rsquo;ll help the
+police. Give me the facts, Mr. Selwood!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood stared at the ardent collector of news; then he motioned him to
+follow, and led him into the hall to where Barthorpe Herapath was
+standing with the police-inspector.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This is a newspaper man,&rdquo; he said laconically, looking at Barthorpe.
+&ldquo;Mr. Triffitt, of the <i>Argus</i>. He wants the facts of this affair.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe turned and looked the new-comer up and down. Triffitt, who had
+almost recovered his breath, pulled out a card and presented it with a
+bow. And Barthorpe suddenly seemed to form a conclusion.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg&nbsp;44]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Mr. Selwood, you know all the facts. Take Mr.
+Triffitt into that room we&rsquo;ve just left, and give him a
+<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">r&eacute;sum&eacute;</span>
+of them. And&mdash;listen! we can make use of the press. Mention two
+matters, which seem to me to be of importance. Tell of the man who came out
+of the House of Commons with my uncle last night&mdash;ask him if
+he&rsquo;ll come forward. And, as my uncle must have returned to this
+office after he&rsquo;d been home, and as he certainly wouldn&rsquo;t walk
+here, ask for information as to who drove him down to Kensington from
+Portman Square. Don&rsquo;t tell this man too much&mdash;give him the bare
+outlines on how matters stand.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The reporter wrote at lightning speed while Selwood, who had some
+experience of condensation, gave him the news he wanted. Finding that he
+was getting a first-class story, Triffitt asked no questions and made no
+interruptions. But when Selwood was through with the account, he looked
+across the table with a queer glance of the eye.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I say!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;This is a strange case!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why so strange?&rdquo; asked Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why? Great Scott!&mdash;I reckon it&rsquo;s an uncommonly strange case,&rdquo; exclaimed
+Triffitt. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s about a dead certainty that Herapath was in his own
+house at Portman Square at one o&rsquo;clock, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well?&rdquo; said Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And yet according to the doctor who examined him at eight o&rsquo;clock he&rsquo;d
+been dead quite eight hours!&rdquo; said Triffitt. &ldquo;That means he died at
+twelve o&rsquo;clock&mdash;an hour before he&rsquo;s supposed to have been at his house!
+Queer! But all the queerer, all the better&mdash;for me! Now I&rsquo;m off&mdash;for the
+present. This&rsquo;ll be on the streets in an hour, Mr. Selwood. Nothing like
+the press, sir!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Therewith he fled, and the secretary suddenly found himself confronting
+a new idea. If the doctor was right and Jacob Herapath had been shot
+dead at midnight, how on earth could he possibly have been in Portman
+Square at one o&rsquo;clock, an hour later?</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg&nbsp;45]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">the glass and the sandwich</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius, dismissed in such cavalier fashion by Barthorpe Herapath,
+walked out of the estate office with downcast head&mdash;a superficial
+observer might have said that he was thoroughly crestfallen and
+brow-beaten. But by the time he had reached the road outside, the two
+faint spots of colour which had flushed his cheeks when Barthorpe turned
+him away had vanished, and he was calm and collected enough when, seeing
+a disengaged taxi-cab passing by, he put up his hand and hailed it. The
+voice which bade the driver go to Portman Square was calm enough,
+too&mdash;Mr. Tertius had too much serious work immediately in prospect to
+allow himself to be disturbed by a rudeness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg&nbsp;46]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He thought deeply about that work as the taxi-cab whirled him along; he
+was still thinking about it when he walked into the big house in Portman
+Square. In there everything was very quiet. The butler was away at
+Kensington; the other servants were busily discussing the mystery of
+their master in their own regions. No one was aware that Mr. Tertius had
+returned, for he let himself into the house with his own latch-key, and
+went straight into Herapath&rsquo;s study. There, if possible, everything was
+still quieter&mdash;the gloom of the dull November morning seemed to be
+doubly accentuated in the nooks and corners; there was a sense of
+solitude which was well in keeping with Mr. Tertius&rsquo;s knowledge of what
+had happened. He looked at the vacant chair in which he had so often
+seen Jacob Herapath sitting, hard at work, active, bustling, intent on
+getting all he could out of every minute of his working day, and he
+sighed deeply.</p>
+
+<p>But in the moment of sighing Mr. Tertius reflected that there was no
+time for regret. It was a time&mdash;his time&mdash;for action; there was a thing
+to do which he wanted to do while he had the room to himself. Therefore
+he went to work, carefully and methodically. For a second or two he
+stood reflectively looking at the supper tray which still stood on the
+little table near the desk. With a light, delicate touch he picked up
+the glass which had been used and held it up to the light. He put it
+down again presently, went quietly out of the study to the dining-room
+across the hall, and returned at once with another glass precisely
+similar in make and pattern to the one which he had placed aside. Into
+that clear glass he poured some whisky, afterwards mixing with it some
+soda-water from the syphon&mdash;this mixture he poured away into the soil of
+a flower-pot which stood in the window. And that done he placed the
+second glass on the tray in the place where the first had stood, and
+picking up the first, in the same light, gingerly fashion, he went
+upstairs to his own rooms at the top of the house.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg&nbsp;47]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Five minutes later Mr. Tertius emerged from his rooms. He then carried
+in his hand a small, square bag, and he took great care to handle it
+very carefully as he went downstairs and into the square. At the corner
+of Orchard Street he got another taxi-cab and bade the driver go to
+Endsleigh Gardens. And during the drive he took the greatest pains to
+nurse the little bag on his knee, thereby preserving the equilibrium of
+the glass inside it.</p>
+
+<p>Ringing the bell of one of the houses in Endsleigh Gardens, Mr. Tertius
+was presently confronted by a trim parlourmaid, whose smile was ample
+proof that the caller was well-known to her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is the Professor in, Mary?&rdquo; asked Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;And if he is, is he
+engaged?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The trim parlourmaid replied that the Professor was in, and that she
+hadn&rsquo;t heard that he was particularly engaged, and she immediately
+preceded the visitor up a flight or two of stairs to a door, which in
+addition to being thickly covered with green felt, was set in flanges of
+rubber&mdash;these precautions being taken, of course, to ensure silence in
+the apartment within. An electric bell was set in the door; a moment or
+two elapsed before any response was made to the parlourmaid&rsquo;s ring. Then
+the door automatically opened, the parlourmaid smiled at Mr. Tertius and
+retired; Mr. Tertius walked in; the door closed softly behind him.</p>
+
+<p>The room in which the visitor found himself was a large and lofty one,
+lighted from the roof, from which it was also ventilated by a patent
+arrangement <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg&nbsp;48]</a></span>of electric fans. Everything that met the view betokened
+science, order, and method. The walls, destitute of picture or ornament,
+were of a smooth neutral tinted plaster; where they met the floor the
+corners were all carefully rounded off so that no dust could gather in
+cracks and crevices; the floor, too, was of smooth cement; there was no
+spot in which a speck of dust could settle in improper peace. A series
+of benches ran round the room, and gave harbourings to a collection of
+scientific instruments of strange appearance and shape; two large
+tables, one at either end of the room, were similarly equipped. And at a
+desk placed between them, and just then occupied in writing in a
+note-book, sat a large man, whose big muscular body was enveloped in a
+brown holland blouse or overall, fashioned something like a smock-frock
+of the old-fashioned rural labourer. He lifted a colossal, mop-like head
+and a huge hand as Mr. Tertius stepped across the threshold, and his
+spectacled eyes twinkled as their glance fell on the bag which the
+visitor carried so gingerly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hullo, Tertius!&rdquo; exclaimed the big man, in a deep, rich voice. &ldquo;What
+have you got there? Specimens?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius looked round for a quite empty space on the adjacent bench,
+and at last seeing one, set his bag down upon it, and sighed with
+relief.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg&nbsp;49]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My dear Cox-Raythwaite!&rdquo; he said, mopping his forehead with a bandanna
+handkerchief which he drew from the tail of his coat. &ldquo;I am thankful to
+have got these things here in&mdash;I devoutly trust!&mdash;safety. Specimens?
+Well, not exactly; though, to be sure, they may be specimens of&mdash;I don&rsquo;t
+quite know what villainy yet. Objects?&mdash;certainly! Perhaps, my dear
+Professor, you will come and look at them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Professor slowly lifted his six feet of muscle and sinew out of his
+chair, picked up a briar pipe which lay on his desk, puffed a great
+cloud of smoke out of it, and lounged weightily across the room to his
+visitor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Something alive?&rdquo; he asked laconically. &ldquo;Likely to bite?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Er&mdash;no!&rdquo; replied Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;No&mdash;they won&rsquo;t bite. The fact is,&rdquo; he
+went on, gingerly opening the bag, &ldquo;this&mdash;er&mdash;this, or these are they.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Professor Cox-Raythwaite bent his massive head and shoulders over the
+little bag and peered narrowly into its obscurity. Then he started.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good Lord!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;A glass tumbler! And&mdash;is it a sandwich? Why,
+what on earth&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He made as if to pull the glass out of the bag, and Mr. Tertius hastily
+seized the great hand in an agony of apprehension.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My dear Cox-Raythwaite!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Pray don&rsquo;t! Allow me&mdash;presently.
+When either of these objects is touched it must be in the most, quite
+the most, delicate fashion. Of course, I know you have a fairy-like
+gentleness of touch&mdash;but don&rsquo;t touch these things yet. Let me explain.
+Shall we&mdash;suppose we sit down. Give me&mdash;yes&mdash;give me one of your
+cigars.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg&nbsp;50]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The Professor, plainly mystified, silently pointed to a cigar box which
+stood on a corner of his desk, and took another look into the bag.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A sandwich&mdash;and a glass!&rdquo; he murmured reflectively. &ldquo;Um! Well?&rdquo; he
+continued, going back to his chair and dropping heavily into it. &ldquo;And
+what&rsquo;s it all about, Tertius? Some mystery, eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius drew a whiff or two of fragrant Havana before he replied.
+Then he too dropped into a chair and pulled it close to his friend&rsquo;s
+desk.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My dear Professor!&rdquo; he said, in a low, thrilling voice, suggestive of
+vast importance, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know whether the secret of one of the most
+astounding crimes of our day may not lie in that innocent-looking
+bag&mdash;or, rather, in its present contents. Fact! But I&rsquo;ll tell you&mdash;you
+must listen with your usual meticulous care for small details. The truth
+is&mdash;Jacob Herapath has, I am sure, been murdered!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Murdered!&rdquo; exclaimed the Professor. &ldquo;Herapath? Murder&mdash;eh? Now then,
+slow and steady, Tertius&mdash;leave out nothing!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing!&rdquo; repeated Mr. Tertius solemnly. &ldquo;Nothing! You shall hear all.
+And this it is&mdash;point by point, from last night until&mdash;until the present
+moment. That is&mdash;so far as I know. There may have been
+developments&mdash;somewhere else. But this is what I know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When Mr. Tertius had finished a detailed and thorough-going account of
+the recent startling discovery and subsequent proceedings, to all of
+which Professor Cox-Raythwaite listened in profound silence, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg&nbsp;51]</a></span>he rose,
+and tip-toeing towards the bag, motioned his friend to follow him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, my dear sir,&rdquo; he said, whispering in his excitement as if he
+feared lest the very retorts and crucibles and pneumatic troughs should
+hear him, &ldquo;Now, my dear sir, I wish you to see for yourself. First of
+all, the glass. I will take it out myself&mdash;I know exactly how I put it
+in. I take it out&mdash;thus! I place it on this vacant space&mdash;thus. Look for
+yourself, my dear fellow. What do you see?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Professor, watching Mr. Tertius&rsquo;s movements with undisguised
+interest, took off his spectacles, picked up a reading-glass, bent down
+and carefully examined the tumbler.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, after a while, &ldquo;yes, Tertius, I certainly see distinct
+thumb and finger-marks round the upper part of this glass. Oh, yes&mdash;no
+doubt of that!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Allow me to take one of your clean specimen slides,&rdquo; observed Mr.
+Tertius, picking up a square of highly polished glass. &ldquo;There! I place
+this slide here and upon it I deposit this sandwich. Now, my dear
+Cox-Raythwaite, favour me by examining the sandwich even more closely
+than you did the glass&mdash;if necessary.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But the Professor shook his head. He clapped Mr. Tertius on the
+shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Excellent!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;Good! Pooh!&mdash;no need for care there. The
+thing&rsquo;s as plain as&mdash;as I am. Good, Tertius, good!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You see it?&rdquo; said Mr. Tertius, delightedly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg&nbsp;52]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;See it! Good Lord, why, who could help see it?&rdquo; answered the
+Professor. &ldquo;Needs no great amount of care or perception to see that, as
+I said. Of course, I see it. Glad you did, too!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But we must take the greatest care of it,&rdquo; urged Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;The most
+particular care. That&rsquo;s why I came to you. Now, what can we do? How
+preserve this sandwich&mdash;just as it is?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing easier,&rdquo; replied the Professor. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll soon fix that. We&rsquo;ll put
+it in such safety that it will still be a fresh thing if it remains
+untouched until London Bridge falls down from sheer decay.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He moved off to another part of the laboratory, and presently returned
+with two objects, one oblong and shallow, the other deep and square,
+which on being set down before Mr. Tertius proved to be glass boxes,
+wonderfully and delicately made, with removable lids that fitted into
+perfectly adjusted grooves.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg&nbsp;53]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There, my dear fellow,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Presently I will deposit the glass in
+that, and the sandwich in this. Then I shall adjust and seal the lids in
+such a fashion that no air can enter these little chambers. Then through
+those tiny orifices I shall extract whatever air is in them&mdash;to the most
+infinitesimal remnant of it. Then I shall seal those orifices&mdash;and there
+you are. Whoever wants to see that sandwich or that glass will find both
+a year hence&mdash;ten years hence&mdash;a century hence!&mdash;in precisely the same
+condition in which we now see them. And that reminds me,&rdquo; he continued,
+as he turned away to his desk and picked up his pipe, &ldquo;that reminds me,
+Tertius&mdash;what are you going to do about these things being seen?
+They&rsquo;ll have to be seen, you know. Have you thought of the police&mdash;the
+detectives?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have certainly thought of both,&rdquo; replied Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;But&mdash;I think
+not yet, in either case. I think one had better await the result of the
+inquest. Something may come out, you know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Coroners and juries,&rdquo; observed the Professor oracularly, &ldquo;are good at
+finding the obvious. Whether they get at the mysteries and the
+secrets&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just so&mdash;just so!&rdquo; said Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;I quite apprehend you. All the
+same, I think we will see what is put before the coroner. Now, what
+point suggests itself to you, Cox-Raythwaite?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One in particular,&rdquo; answered the Professor. &ldquo;Whatever medical evidence
+is called ought to show without reasonable doubt what time Herapath
+actually met his death.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Quite so,&rdquo; said Mr. Tertius gravely. &ldquo;If that&rsquo;s once established&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then, of course, your own investigation, or suggestion, or theory about
+that sandwich will be vastly simplified,&rdquo; replied the Professor.
+&ldquo;Meanwhile, you will no doubt take some means of observing&mdash;eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I shall use every means to observe,&rdquo; said Mr. Tertius with a
+significant smile, which was almost a wink. &ldquo;Of that you may be&mdash;dead
+certain!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then he left Professor Cox-Raythwaite to hermetically seal up the glass
+and the sandwich, and quitting the house, walked slowly back to Portman
+Square. As he turned out of Oxford Street into Orchard Street the
+newsboys suddenly came rushing along with the <i>Argus</i> special.</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg&nbsp;54]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">the taxi-cab driver</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius bought a copy of the newspaper, and standing aside on the
+pavement, read with much interest and surprise the story which
+Triffitt&rsquo;s keen appetite for news and ready craftsmanship in writing had
+so quickly put together. Happening to glance up from the paper in the
+course of his reading, he observed that several other people were
+similarly employed. The truth was that Triffitt had headed his column:
+&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Mysterious Death of Mr. Herapath, M.P. Is It Suicide or Murder?</span>&rdquo;&mdash;and
+as this also appeared in great staring letters on the contents bills
+which the newsboys were carrying about with them, and as Herapath had
+been well known in that district, there was a vast amount of interest
+aroused thereabouts by the news. Indeed, people were beginning to
+chatter on the sidewalks, and at the doors of the shops. And as Mr.
+Tertius turned away in the direction of Portman Square, he heard one
+excited bystander express a candid opinion.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Suicide?&rdquo; exclaimed this man, thrusting his paper into the hands of a
+companion. &ldquo;Not much! Catch old Jacob Herapath at that game&mdash;he was a
+deuced deal too fond of life and money! Murder, sir&mdash;murder!&mdash;that&rsquo;s the
+ticket&mdash;murder!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg&nbsp;55]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius went slowly homeward, head bent and eyes moody. He let
+himself into the house; at the sound of his step in the hall Peggie
+Wynne looked out of the study. She retreated into it at sight of Mr.
+Tertius, and he followed her and closed the door. Looking narrowly at
+her, he saw that the girl had been shedding tears, and he laid his hand
+shyly yet sympathetically on her arm. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said quietly, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been
+feeling like that ever since&mdash;since I heard about things. But I don&rsquo;t
+know&mdash;I suppose we shall feel it more when&mdash;when we realize it more, eh?
+Just now there&rsquo;s the other thing to think about, isn&rsquo;t there?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peggie mopped her eyes and looked at him. He was such a quiet,
+unobtrusive, inoffensive old gentleman that she wondered more than ever
+why Barthorpe had refused to admit him to the informal conference.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What other thing?&rdquo; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius looked round the room&mdash;strangely empty now that Jacob
+Herapath&rsquo;s bustling and strenuous presence was no longer in it&mdash;and
+shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s one thought you mustn&rsquo;t permit yourself to harbour for a
+moment, my dear,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t even for a fraction of time allow
+yourself to think that my old friend took his own life!
+That&rsquo;s&mdash;impossible.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said Peggie. &ldquo;I never did think so. It is, as you say,
+impossible. I knew him too well to believe that. So, of course,
+it&rsquo;s&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg&nbsp;56]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Murder,&rdquo; assented Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;Murder! I heard a man in the street
+voice the same opinion just now. Of course! It&rsquo;s the only opinion. Yet
+in the newspaper they&rsquo;re asking which it was. But I suppose the
+newspapers must be&mdash;sensational.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t mean to say it&rsquo;s in the newspapers already?&rdquo; exclaimed
+Peggie.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius handed to her the <i>Argus</i> special, which he had carried
+crumpled up in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Everybody&rsquo;s reading it out there in the streets,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s
+extraordinary, now, how these affairs seem to fascinate people.
+Yes&mdash;it&rsquo;s all there. That is, of course, as far as it&rsquo;s gone.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How did the paper people come to know all this?&rdquo; asked Peggie, glancing
+rapidly over Triffitt&rsquo;s leaded lines.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I suppose they got it from the police,&rdquo; replied Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t
+know much about such matters, but I believe the police and the Press are
+in constant touch. Of course, it&rsquo;s well they should be&mdash;it attracts
+public notice. And in cases like this, public notice is an excellent
+thing. We shall have to hear&mdash;and find out&mdash;a good deal before we get at
+the truth in this case, my dear.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peggie suddenly flung down the newspaper and looked inquiringly at the
+old man.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Tertius,&rdquo; she said abruptly, &ldquo;why wouldn&rsquo;t Barthorpe let you come
+into that room down there at the office this morning?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius did not answer this direct question at once. He walked away
+to the window and stood looking <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg&nbsp;57]</a></span>out into the square for a while. When
+at last he spoke his voice was singularly even and colourless. He might
+have been discussing a question on which it was impossible to feel any
+emotion.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I really cannot positively say, my dear,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;I have known, of
+course, for some time that Mr. Barthorpe Herapath is not well disposed
+towards me. I have observed a certain coldness, a contempt, on his part.
+I have been aware that he has resented my presence in this house. And I
+suppose he felt that as I am not a member of the family, I had no right
+to sit in council with him and with you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not a member of the family!&rdquo; exclaimed Peggie. &ldquo;Why, you came here soon
+after I came&mdash;all those years ago!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have dwelt under Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s roof, in this house, fifteen
+years,&rdquo; said Mr. Tertius, reflectively. &ldquo;Fifteen years!&mdash;yes. Yes&mdash;Jacob
+and I were&mdash;good friends.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke the last word a tear trickled from beneath Mr. Tertius&rsquo;s
+spectacles and ran down into his beard, and Peggie, catching sight of
+it, impulsively jumped from her seat and kissed him affectionately.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never mind, Mr. Tertius!&rdquo; she said, patting his shoulders. &ldquo;You and I
+are friends, too, anyway. I don&rsquo;t like Barthorpe when he&rsquo;s like that&mdash;I
+hate that side of him. And anyhow, Barthorpe doesn&rsquo;t matter&mdash;to me. I
+don&rsquo;t suppose he matters to anything&mdash;except himself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius gravely shook his head.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg&nbsp;58]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Barthorpe Herapath may matter a great deal, my dear,&rdquo; he remarked.
+&ldquo;He is a very forceful person. I do not know what provision my poor
+friend may have made, but Barthorpe, you will remember, is his nephew,
+and, I believe, his only male relative. And in that case&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius was just then interrupted by the entrance of a footman who
+came in and looked inquiringly at Peggie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s a taxi-cab driver at the door, miss,&rdquo; he announced. &ldquo;He says he
+would like to speak to some one about the news in the paper about&mdash;about
+the master, miss.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peggie looked at Mr. Tertius. And Mr. Tertius quickly made a sign to the
+footman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bring the man in at once,&rdquo; he commanded. And, as if to lose no time, he
+followed the footman into the hall, and at once returned, conducting a
+young man who carried a copy of the <i>Argus</i> in his hand. &ldquo;Yes?&rdquo; he said,
+closing the door behind them and motioning the man to a seat. &ldquo;You wish
+to tell us something! This lady is Miss Wynne&mdash;Mr. Herapath&rsquo;s niece. You
+can tell us anything you think of importance. Do you know anything,
+then?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The taxi-cab driver lifted the <i>Argus</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This here newspaper, sir,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve just been reading of
+it&mdash;about Mr. Herapath, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mr. Tertius gently. &ldquo;Yes?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, sir&mdash;strikes me as how I drove him, sir, this morning,&rdquo; answered
+the driver. &ldquo;Gentleman of his appearance, anyway, sir&mdash;that&rsquo;s a fact!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg&nbsp;59]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius glanced at Peggie, who was intently watching the caller.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he said, turning again to the driver, &ldquo;you think you drove either
+Mr. Herapath or a gentleman of his appearance this morning. You did not
+know Mr. Herapath by sight, then?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir. I&rsquo;ve only just come into this part&mdash;came for the first time
+yesterday. But I&rsquo;m as certain&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just tell us all about it,&rdquo; said Mr. Tertius, interrupting him. &ldquo;Tell
+us in your own way. Everything, you know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ain&rsquo;t so much to tell, sir,&rdquo; responded the driver. &ldquo;All the same,
+soon&rsquo;s I&rsquo;d seen this piece in the paper just now I said to myself, &lsquo;I&rsquo;d
+best go round to Portman Square and tell what I do know,&rsquo; I says. And
+it&rsquo;s like this, sir&mdash;I come on this part yesterday&mdash;last night it was.
+My taxi belongs to a man as keeps half a dozen, and he put me on to
+night work, this end of Oxford Street. Well, it &rsquo;ud be just about a
+quarter to two this morning when a tall, well-built gentleman comes out
+of Orchard Street and made for my cab. I jumps down and opens the door
+for him. &lsquo;You know St. Mary Abbot&rsquo;s Church, Kensington?&rsquo; he says as he
+got in. &lsquo;Drive me down there and pull up at the gate.&rsquo; So, of course, I
+ran him down, and there he got out, give me five bob, and off he went.
+That&rsquo;s it, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And when he got out, which way did he go?&rdquo; asked Mr. Tertius.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg&nbsp;60]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;West, sir&mdash;along the High Street, past the Town Hall,&rdquo; promptly
+answered the driver. &ldquo;And there he crossed the road. I see him cross,
+because I stopped there a minute or two after he&rsquo;d got out, tinkering at
+my engine.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Can you tell us what this gentleman was like in appearance?&rdquo; asked Mr.
+Tertius.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, sir, not so much as regards his face,&rdquo; answered the driver. &ldquo;I
+didn&rsquo;t look at him, not particular, in that way&mdash;besides, he was wearing
+one of them overcoats with a big fur collar to it, and he&rsquo;d the collar
+turned high up about his neck and cheeks, and his hat&mdash;one of them
+slouched, soft hats, like so many gentlemen wears nowadays sir&mdash;was well
+pulled down. But from what bit I see of him, sir, I should say he was a
+fresh-coloured gentleman.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tall and well built, you say?&rdquo; observed Mr. Tertius.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, sir&mdash;fine-made gentleman&mdash;pretty near six feet, I should have
+called him,&rdquo; replied the driver. &ldquo;Little bit inclined to stoutness,
+like.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius turned to Peggie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I believe you have some recent photographs of Mr. Herapath,&rdquo; he said.
+&ldquo;You might fetch them and let me see if our friend here can recognize
+them. You didn&rsquo;t notice anything else about your fare?&rdquo; he went on,
+after Peggie had left the room. &ldquo;Anything that excited your attention,
+eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The driver, after examining the pattern of the carpet for one minute and
+studying the ceiling for <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg&nbsp;61]</a></span>another, slowly shook his head. But he then
+suddenly started into something like activity.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, there was, sir, now I come to think of it!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;I
+hadn&rsquo;t thought of it until now, but now you mention it, there was. I
+noticed he&rsquo;d a particularly handsome diamond ring on his left hand&mdash;an
+extra fine one, too, it was.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;A very fine diamond ring on his left hand? Now,
+how did you come to see that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He rested that hand on the side of the door as he was getting in, sir,
+and I noticed how it flashed,&rdquo; answered the driver. &ldquo;There was a lamp
+right against us, you see, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I see,&rdquo; said Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;He wasn&rsquo;t wearing gloves, then?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He hadn&rsquo;t a glove on that hand, sir. He was carrying some papers in
+it&mdash;a sort of little roll of papers.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; murmured Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;A diamond ring&mdash;and a little roll of
+papers.&rdquo; He got up from his chair and put a hand in his pocket. &ldquo;Now, my
+friend,&rdquo; he went on, chinking some coins as he withdrew it, &ldquo;you haven&rsquo;t
+told this to any one else, I suppose?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo; answered the driver. &ldquo;Came straight here, sir.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg&nbsp;62]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s a couple of sovereigns for your trouble,&rdquo; said Mr. Tertius,
+&ldquo;and there&rsquo;ll be more for you if you do what I tell you to do. At
+present&mdash;that is, until I give you leave&mdash;don&rsquo;t say a word of this to a
+soul. Not even to the police&mdash;yet. In fact, not a word to them until I
+say you may. Keep your mouth shut until I tell you to open it&mdash;I shall
+know where to find you. If you want me, keep an eye open for me in the
+square outside, or in the street. When the young lady comes back with
+the photographs, don&rsquo;t mention the ring to her. This is a very queer
+business, and I don&rsquo;t want too much said just yet. Do as I tell you, and
+I&rsquo;ll see you&rsquo;re all right. Understand?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The driver pocketed his sovereigns, and touched his forehead with a
+knowing look.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right, sir,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I understand. Depend on me, sir&mdash;I shan&rsquo;t
+say a word without your leave.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peggie came in just then with a half a dozen cabinet photographs in her
+hand. One by one she exhibited them to the driver.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you recognize any of these?&rdquo; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>The driver shook his head doubtingly until Peggie showed him a
+half-length of her uncle in outdoor costume. Then his eyes lighted up.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Couldn&rsquo;t swear as to the features, miss,&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;But I&rsquo;d take
+my &rsquo;davy about the coat and the hat! That&rsquo;s what the gentleman was
+wearing as I drove this morning&mdash;take my Gospel oath on it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He recognizes the furred overcoat and the soft hat,&rdquo; murmured Mr.
+Tertius. &ldquo;Very good&mdash;very good! All right, my man&mdash;we are much obliged
+to you.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg&nbsp;63]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He went out into the hall with the driver, and had another word in
+secret with him before the footman opened the door. As the door closed
+Mr. Tertius turned slowly back to the study. And as he turned he
+muttered a word or two and smiled cynically.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A diamond ring!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Jacob Herapath never wore a diamond ring in
+his life!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg&nbsp;64]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">is there a will?</p>
+
+<p>When Triffitt hurried off with his precious budget of news Selwood
+lingered on the step of the office watching his retreating figure, and
+wondering about the new idea which the reporter had put into his mind.
+It was one of those ideas which instantly arouse all sorts of vague,
+sinister possibilities, but Selwood found himself unable to formulate
+anything definite out of any of them. Certainly, if Mr. Herapath died
+at, or before, twelve o&rsquo;clock midnight, he could not have been in
+Portman Square at one o&rsquo;clock in the morning! Yet, according to all the
+evidence, he had been there, in his own house, in his own study. His
+coachman had seen him in the act of entering the house; there was proof
+that he had eaten food and drunk liquor in the house. The doctor must
+have made a mistake&mdash;and yet, Selwood remembered, he had spoken very
+positively. But if he had not made a mistake?&mdash;what then? How could
+Jacob Herapath be lying dead in his office at Kensington and nibbling at
+a sandwich in Portman Square at one and the same hour? Clearly there was
+something wrong, something deeply mysterious, something&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>At that point of his surmisings and questionings <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg&nbsp;65]</a></span>Selwood heard himself
+called by Barthorpe Herapath, and he turned to see that gentleman
+standing in the hall dangling a bunch of keys, which Selwood instantly
+recognized.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We have just found these keys,&rdquo; said Barthorpe. &ldquo;You remember the
+inspector said he found no keys in my uncle&rsquo;s pockets? We found these
+pushed away under some loose papers on the desk. It looks as if he&rsquo;d put
+them on the desk when he sat down, and had displaced them when he fell
+out of his chair. Of course, they&rsquo;re his&mdash;perhaps you recognize them?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Selwood, abruptly. &ldquo;They&rsquo;re his.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I want you to come with me while I open his private safe,&rdquo; continued
+Barthorpe. &ldquo;At junctures like these there are always things that have
+got to be done. Now, did you ever hear my uncle speak of his
+will&mdash;whether he&rsquo;d made one, and, if so, where he&rsquo;d put it? Hear
+anything?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing,&rdquo; replied Selwood. &ldquo;I never heard him mention such a thing.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, between ourselves,&rdquo; said Barthorpe, &ldquo;neither did I. I&rsquo;ve done all
+his legal work for him for a great many years&mdash;ever since I began to
+practice, in fact&mdash;and so far as I know, he never made a will. More than
+once I&rsquo;ve suggested that he should make one, but like most men who are
+in good health and spirits, he always put it off. However, we must look
+over his papers both here and at Portman Square.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood made no comment. He silently followed <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg&nbsp;66]</a></span>Barthorpe into the
+private room in which his late employer had so strangely met his death.
+The body had been removed by that time, and everything bore its usual
+aspect, save for the presence of the police inspector and the detective,
+who were peering about them in the mysterious fashion associated with
+their calling. The inspector was looking narrowly at the fastenings of
+the two windows and apparently debating the chances of entrance and exit
+from them; the detective, armed with a magnifying glass, was examining
+the edges of the door, the smooth backs of chairs, even the surface of
+the desk, presumably for finger-marks.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I shan&rsquo;t disturb you,&rdquo; said Barthorpe, genially. &ldquo;Mr. Selwood and I
+merely wish to investigate the contents of this safe. There&rsquo;s no
+likelihood of finding what I&rsquo;m particularly looking for in any of his
+drawers in that desk,&rdquo; he continued, turning to Selwood. &ldquo;I knew enough
+of his habits to know that anything that&rsquo;s in there will be of a purely
+business nature&mdash;referring to the estate. If he did keep anything that&rsquo;s
+personal here, it&rsquo;ll be in that safe. Now, which is the key? Do you
+know?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He handed the bunch of keys to Selwood. And Selwood, who was feeling
+strangely apathetic about the present proceedings, took them
+mechanically and glanced carelessly at them. Then he started.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg&nbsp;67]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s a key missing!&rdquo; he exclaimed, suddenly waking into interest. &ldquo;I
+know these keys well enough&mdash;Mr. Herapath was constantly handing them to
+me. There ought to be six keys here&mdash;the key of this safe, the key of
+the safe at Portman Square, the latch-key for this office, the key of
+this room, the latch-key of the house, and a key of a safe at the Alpha
+Safe Deposit place. That one&mdash;the Safe Deposit key&mdash;is missing.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe knitted his forehead, and the two police officials paused in
+their tasks and drew near the desk at which Selwood was standing.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Are you certain of that?&rdquo; asked Barthorpe.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sure!&rdquo; answered Selwood. &ldquo;As I say, I&rsquo;ve been handling these keys every
+day since I came to Mr. Herapath.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When did you handle them last?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yesterday afternoon: not so very long before Mr. Herapath went down to
+the House. That was in Portman Square. He gave them to me to get some
+papers out of the safe there.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Was that Safe Deposit key there at that time?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They were all there&mdash;all six. I&rsquo;m certain of it,&rdquo; asserted Selwood.
+&ldquo;This is the key of this safe,&rdquo; he went on, selecting one.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Open the safe, then,&rdquo; said Barthorpe. &ldquo;Another safe at the Alpha, eh?&rdquo;
+he continued, musingly. &ldquo;I never knew he had a safe there. Did you ever
+know him to use it?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg&nbsp;68]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been to it myself,&rdquo; answered Selwood. &ldquo;I took some documents there
+and deposited them, two days ago. There&rsquo;s not very much in this safe,&rdquo;
+he went on, throwing open the door. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s not long since I tidied it
+out&mdash;at his request. So far as I know, there are no private papers of
+any note there. He never made much use of this safe&mdash;in my presence, at
+any rate.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, we&rsquo;ll see what there is, anyhow,&rdquo; remarked Barthorpe. He began to
+examine the contents of the safe methodically, taking the various papers
+and documents out one by one and laying them in order on a small table
+which Selwood wheeled up to his side. Within twenty minutes he had gone
+through everything, and he began to put the papers back.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No will there,&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll go on to Portman Square now, Mr.
+Selwood. After all, it&rsquo;s much more likely that he&rsquo;d keep his will in the
+safe at his own house&mdash;if he made one. But I don&rsquo;t believe he ever made
+a will.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius and Peggie Wynne were still in the study when Barthorpe and
+Selwood drove up to the house. The driver of the taxi-cab had just gone
+away, and Mr. Tertius was discussing his information with Peggie.
+Hearing Barthorpe&rsquo;s voice in the hall he gave her a warning glance.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Quick!&rdquo; he said hurriedly. &ldquo;Attend to what I say! Not a word to your
+cousin about the man who has just left us. At present I don&rsquo;t want Mr.
+Barthorpe Herapath to know what he told us. Be careful, my dear&mdash;not a
+word! I&rsquo;ll tell you why later on&mdash;but at present, silence&mdash;strict
+silence!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe Herapath came bustling into the room, followed by Selwood,
+who, as it seemed to Peggie, looked utterly unwilling for whatever task
+might lay before him. At sight of Mr. Tertius, Barthorpe came to a
+sudden halt and frowned.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg&nbsp;69]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want to discuss matters further, Mr. Tertius,&rdquo; he said coldly.
+&ldquo;I thought I had given you a hint already. My cousin and I have private
+matters to attend to, and I shall be obliged if you&rsquo;ll withdraw. You&rsquo;ve
+got private rooms of your own in this house, I believe&mdash;at any rate,
+until things are settled&mdash;and it will be best if you keep to them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius, who had listened to this unmoved, turned to Peggie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you wish me to go away?&rdquo; he asked quietly.</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe turned on him with an angry scowl.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s not a question of what Miss Wynne wishes, but of what I order,&rdquo; he
+burst out. &ldquo;If you&rsquo;ve any sense of fitness, you&rsquo;ll know that until my
+uncle&rsquo;s will is found and his wishes ascertained I&rsquo;m master here, Mr.
+Tertius, and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re not my master, Barthorpe,&rdquo; exclaimed Peggie, with a sudden flash
+of spirit. &ldquo;I know what my uncle&rsquo;s wishes were as regards Mr. Tertius,
+and I intend to respect them. I&rsquo;ve always been mistress of this house
+since my uncle brought me to it, and I intend to be until I find I&rsquo;ve no
+right to be. Mr. Tertius, you&rsquo;ll please to stop where you are!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I intend to,&rdquo; said Mr. Tertius, calmly. &ldquo;I never had any other
+intention. Mr. Barthorpe Herapath, I believe, will hardly use force to
+compel me to leave the room.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe bit his lips as he glanced from one to the other.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg&nbsp;70]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;So that&rsquo;s how things are? Very good, Mr. Tertius. No, I
+shan&rsquo;t use physical force. But mind I don&rsquo;t use a little moral force&mdash;a
+slight modicum of that would be enough for you, I&rsquo;m thinking!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do I understand that you are using threatening language to me?&rdquo; asked
+Mr. Tertius, mildly.</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe sneered, and turned to Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll open this safe now,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You know which is the key, I
+suppose,&rdquo; he went on, glaring at Peggie, who had retreated to the
+hearthrug and was evidently considerably put out by her cousin&rsquo;s
+behaviour. &ldquo;I suppose you never heard my uncle mention a will? We&rsquo;ve
+searched his private safe at the office and there&rsquo;s nothing there.
+Personally, I don&rsquo;t believe he ever made a will&mdash;I never heard of it.
+And I think he&rsquo;d have told me if&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius broke in upon Barthorpe&rsquo;s opinions with a dry cough.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It may save some unnecessary trouble if I speak at this juncture,&rdquo; he
+said. &ldquo;There is a will.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe&rsquo;s ruddy cheeks paled in spite of his determined effort to
+appear unconcerned. He twisted round on Mr. Tertius with a startled eye
+and twitching lips.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&mdash;you say there is a will!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;You say&mdash;what do you know
+about it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When it was made, where it was made, where it now is,&rdquo; answered Mr.
+Tertius.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where it now is!&rdquo; repeated Barthorpe. &ldquo;Where it now&mdash;is! And where is
+it, I should like to know?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius, who had gone up to Peggie, laid his hand reassuringly on
+her arm.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg&nbsp;71]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be afraid, my dear,&rdquo; he whispered. &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; he continued,
+glancing at Barthorpe, &ldquo;I had better tell you when and where it was
+made. About six months ago&mdash;in this room. One day Mr. Herapath called me
+in here. He had his then secretary, Mr. Burchill, with him. He took a
+document out of a drawer, told us that it was his will, signed it in our
+joint presence, and we witnessed his signature in each other&rsquo;s presence.
+He then placed the will in an envelope, which he sealed. I do not know
+the terms of the will&mdash;but I know where the will is.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe&rsquo;s voice sounded strangely husky as he got out one word:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius took Peggie by the elbow and led her across the room to a
+recess in which stood an ancient oak bureau.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This old desk,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;belonged, so he always told me, to Jacob&rsquo;s
+great-grandfather. There is a secret drawer in it. Here it is&mdash;concealed
+behind another drawer. You put this drawer out&mdash;so&mdash;and here is the
+secret one. And here&mdash;where I saw Jacob Herapath put it&mdash;is the will.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe, who had followed these proceedings with almost irrepressible
+eagerness, thrust forward a shaking hand. But Mr. Tertius quietly handed
+the sealed envelope to Peggie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This envelope,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;is addressed to Miss Wynne.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe made an effort and controlled himself.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Open it!&rdquo; he said hoarsely. &ldquo;Open it!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg&nbsp;72]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Peggie fumbled with the seal of the envelope and then, with a sudden
+impulse, passed it to Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Selwood!&rdquo; she exclaimed imploringly. &ldquo;You&mdash;I can&rsquo;t. You open it,
+and&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And let him read it,&rdquo; added Mr. Tertius.</p>
+
+<p>Selwood, whose nerves had been strung to a high pitch of excitement by
+this scene, hastily slit open the envelope, and drew out a folded sheet
+of foolscap paper. He saw at a glance that there was very little to
+read. His voice trembled slightly as he began a recital of the contents.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>&ldquo;&lsquo;This is the last will of me, Jacob Herapath, of 500, Portman
+Square, London, in the County of Middlesex. I give, devise, and
+bequeath everything of which I die possessed, whether in real
+or personal estate, absolutely to my niece, Margaret Wynne, now
+resident with me at the above address, and I appoint the said
+Margaret Wynne the sole executor of this my will. And I revoke
+all former wills and codicils. Dated this eighteenth day of
+April, 1912.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;<span class="smcap">Jacob Herapath.</span>&rsquo;&rdquo;</p></div>
+
+<p>Selwood paused there, and a sudden silence fell&mdash;to be as suddenly
+broken by a sharp question from Barthorpe.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Witnesses?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The witnesses!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood glanced at the further paragraph which he had not thought it
+necessary to read.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, yes!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s witnessed all right.&rdquo; And he went on reading.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg&nbsp;73]</a></span></p><div class="blockquot"><p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Signed by the testator in the presence of us both present at
+the same time who in his presence and in the presence of each
+other have hereunto set our names as witnesses.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;<span class="smcap">John Christopher Tertius</span>, of 500, Portman Square, London:
+Gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;<span class="smcap">Frank Burchill</span>, of 331, Upper Seymour Street, London:
+Secretary.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p></div>
+
+<p>As Selwood finished, he handed the will to Peggie, who in her turn
+hastily gave it to Mr. Tertius. For a moment nobody spoke. Then
+Barthorpe made a step forward.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let me see that!&rdquo; he said, in a strangely quiet voice. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want to
+handle it&mdash;hold it up!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>For another moment he stood gazing steadily, intently, at the signatures
+at the foot of the document. Then, without a word or look, he twisted
+sharply on his heel, and walked swiftly out of the room and the house.</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg&nbsp;74]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">the second witness</p>
+
+<p>If any close observer had walked away with Barthorpe Herapath from the
+house in Portman Square and had watched his face and noted his manner,
+that observer would have said that his companion looked like a man who
+was either lost in a profound day-dream or had just received a shock
+that had temporarily deprived him of all but the mechanical faculties.
+And in point of strict fact, Barthorpe was both stunned by the news he
+had just received and plunged into deep speculation by a certain feature
+of it. He hurried along, scarcely knowing where he was going&mdash;but he was
+thinking all the same. And suddenly he pulled himself up and found that
+he had turned down Portman Street and was already in the thick of Oxford
+Street&rsquo;s busy crowds. A passer-by into whom he jostled in his
+absent-mindedness snarled angrily, bidding him look where he was
+going&mdash;that pulled Barthorpe together and he collected his wits, asking
+himself what he wanted. The first thing that met his gaze on this
+recovery was a little Italian restaurant and he straightway made for the
+door.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This is what I want,&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;Some place in which to sit down and
+think calmly.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg&nbsp;75]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He slipped into a quiet corner as soon as he had entered the
+restaurant, summoned a waiter with a glance, and for a moment
+concentrated his attention on the bill of fare which the man put before
+him. That slight mental exercise restored him; when the waiter had taken
+his simple order and gone away, Barthorpe was fully himself again. And
+finding himself in as satisfactory a state of privacy as he could
+desire, with none to overlook or spy on him, he drew from an inner
+pocket a letter-case which he had taken from Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s private
+safe at the estate office and into which he had cast a hurried glance
+before leaving Kensington for Portman Square.</p>
+
+<p>From this letter-case he now drew a letter, and as he unfolded it he
+muttered a word or two.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Frank Burchill, 331, Upper Seymour Street,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Um&mdash;but not Upper
+Seymour Street any longer, I think. Now let&rsquo;s see what it all is&mdash;what
+it all means I&rsquo;ve got to find out.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The sheet of paper which he was handling was of the sort used by
+typists, but the letter itself was written by hand, and Barthorpe
+recognized the penmanship as that of his uncle&rsquo;s ex-secretary, Burchill,
+second witness to the will which had just been exhibited to him. Then he
+read, slowly and carefully, what Burchill had written to Jacob
+Herapath&mdash;written, evidently, only a few days previously. For there was
+the date, plain enough.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg&nbsp;76]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>&ldquo;35c, Calengrove Mansions,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Maida Vale, W.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<i>November 11th</i>, 19&mdash;.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know that I am particularly surprised that you have up
+to now entirely ignored my letters of the 1st and the 5th
+instant. You probably think that I am not a person about whom
+any one need take much trouble; a mean cur, perhaps, who can do
+no more than snap at a mastiff&rsquo;s heels. I am very well aware
+(having had the benefit of a year&rsquo;s experience of your
+character and temperament) that you have very little respect
+for unmoneyed people and are contemptuous of their ability to
+interfere with the moneyed. But in that matter you are
+mistaken. And to put matters plainly, it will pay you far
+better to keep me a friend than to transform me into an enemy.
+Therefore I ask you to consider well and deeply the next
+sentence of this letter&mdash;which I will underline.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am in full possession of the secret which you have taken
+such vast pains to keep for fifteen years.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think you are quite competent to read my meaning, and I now
+confidently expect to hear that you will take pleasure in
+obliging me in the way which I indicated to you in my previous
+letters.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yours faithfully,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Frank Burchill</span>.&rdquo;</p></div>
+
+<p>Barthorpe read this communication three times, pausing over every
+sentence, seeking to read the meanings, the implications, the subtly
+veiled threat. When <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg&nbsp;77]</a></span>he folded the square sheet and replaced it in the
+letter-case he half spoke one word:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Blackmail!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then, staring in apparent idleness about the little restaurant, with its
+gilt-framed mirrors, its red, plush-covered seats, its suggestion of
+foreign atmosphere and custom, he idly drummed the tips of his fingers
+on the table, and thought. Naturally, he thought of the writer of the
+letter. Of course, he said to himself, of course he knew Burchill.
+Burchill had been Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s private secretary for rather more
+than a year, and it was now about six months since Jacob had got rid of
+him. He, Barthorpe, remembered very well why Jacob had quietly dismissed
+Burchill. One day Jacob had said to him, with a dry chuckle:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m getting rid of that secretary of mine&mdash;it won&rsquo;t do.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What won&rsquo;t do?&rdquo; Barthorpe had asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He&rsquo;s beginning to make eyes at Peggie,&rdquo; Jacob had answered with another
+chuckle, &ldquo;and though Peggie&rsquo;s a girl of sense, that fellow&rsquo;s too good
+looking to have about a house. I never ought to have had him.
+However&mdash;he goes.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg&nbsp;78]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe, as he ate the cutlets and sipped the half-bottle of claret
+which the waiter presently brought him, speculated on these facts and
+memories. He was not very sure about Burchill&rsquo;s antecedents: he believed
+he was a young man of good credentials and high
+respectability&mdash;personally, he had always wondered why old Jacob
+Herapath, a practical business man, should have taken as a private
+secretary a fellow who looked, dressed, spoke, and behaved like a
+play-actor. As it all came within the scope of things he mused on
+Burchill and his personal appearance, calling up the ex-secretary&rsquo;s
+graceful and slender figure, his oval, olive-tinted face, his large,
+dark, lustrous eyes, his dark, curling hair, his somewhat affected
+dress, his tall, wide-brimmed hats, his taper fingers, his big,
+wide-ended cravats. It had once amused Barthorpe&mdash;and many other
+people&mdash;to see Jacob Herapath and his secretary together; nevertheless,
+Jacob had always spoken of Burchill as being thoroughly capable,
+painstaking, thorough and diligent. His airs and graces Jacob put down
+as a young man&rsquo;s affectations&mdash;yet there came the time when they suited
+Jacob no longer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I catch him talking too much to Peggie,&rdquo; he had added, in that
+conversation of which Barthorpe was thinking. &ldquo;Better get rid of him
+before they pass the too-much stage.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So Burchill had gone, and Barthorpe had heard no more of him until now.
+But what he had heard now was a revelation. Burchill had witnessed a
+will of Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s, which, if good and valid and the only will in
+existence, would leave him, Barthorpe, a ruined man. Burchill had
+written a letter to Jacob Herapath asking for some favour, reward,
+compensation, as the price of his silence about a secret. What secret?
+Barthorpe could not even guess at it&mdash;but Burchill had said, evidently
+knowing what he was talking about, that Jacob Herapath had taken vast
+pains to keep it for fifteen years.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg&nbsp;79]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>By the time Barthorpe had finished his lunch he had come to the
+conclusion that there was only one thing for him to do. He must go
+straight to Calengrove Mansions and interview Mr. Frank Burchill. In one
+way or another he must make sure of him, or, rather&mdash;though it was
+really the same thing&mdash;sure of what he could tell. And on the way there
+he would make sure of something else&mdash;in order to do which he presently
+commissioned a taxi-cab and bade its driver go first to 331, Upper
+Seymour Street.</p>
+
+<p>The domestic who answered Barthorpe&rsquo;s double knock at that house shook
+her head when he designedly asked for Mr. Frank Burchill. Nobody of that
+name, she said. But on being assured that there once had been a lodger
+of that name in residence there, she observed that she would fetch her
+mistress, and disappeared to return with an elderly lady who also shook
+her head at sight of the caller.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Burchill left here some time ago,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Nearly six months. I
+don&rsquo;t know where he is.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did he leave no address to which his letters were to be sent?&rdquo; asked
+Barthorpe, affecting surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He said there&rsquo;d be no letters coming&mdash;and there haven&rsquo;t been,&rdquo; answered
+the landlady. &ldquo;And I&rsquo;ve neither seen nor heard of him since he went.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Something in her manner suggested to Barthorpe that she had no desire to
+renew acquaintance with her former lodger. This sent Barthorpe away well
+satisfied. It was precisely what he wanted. The three people whom he had
+left in Portman Square in all probability knew no other address than
+this at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg&nbsp;80]</a></span>which to seek for Burchill when he was wanted; they would seek
+him there eventually and get no news. Luckily for himself, Barthorpe
+knew where he was to be found, and he went straight off up Edgware Road
+to find him.</p>
+
+<p>Calengrove Mansions proved to be a new block of flats in the dip of
+Maida Vale; 35c was a top flat in a wing which up to that stage of its
+existence did not appear to be much sought after by would-be tenants. It
+was some time before Barthorpe succeeded in getting an answer to his
+ring and knock; when at last the door was opened Burchill himself looked
+out upon him, yawning, and in a dressing-gown. And narrowly and
+searchingly as Barthorpe glanced at Burchill he could not see a trace of
+unusual surprise or embarrassment in his face. He looked just as any man
+might look who receives an unexpected caller.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Mr. Barthorpe Herapath! Come in&mdash;do. I&rsquo;m a bit late&mdash;a
+good bit late, in fact. You see, I&rsquo;m doing dramatic criticism now, and
+there was an important <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><i>premi&egrave;re</i></span>
+last night at the Hyperion, and I had to do a full column, and so&mdash;but
+that doesn&rsquo;t interest you. Come in, pray.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He led the way into a small sitting-room, drew forward an easy-chair,
+and reaching down a box of cigarettes from the mantelpiece offered its
+contents to his visitor. Barthorpe, secretly wondering if all this
+unconcerned behaviour was natural or merely a bit of acting, took a
+cigarette and dropped into the chair.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg&nbsp;81]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t suppose you thought of seeing me when you opened your door,
+Burchill?&rdquo; he remarked good-humouredly, as he took the match which his
+host had struck for him. &ldquo;Last man in the world you thought of seeing,
+eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Burchill calmly lighted a cigarette for himself before he answered.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said at last, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know&mdash;you never know who&rsquo;s going to
+turn up. But to be candid, I didn&rsquo;t expect to see you, and I don&rsquo;t know
+why you&rsquo;ve come.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe slowly produced the letter-case from his pocket, took
+Burchill&rsquo;s letter from it, and held it before him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s what brought me here,&rdquo; he said significantly. &ldquo;That! Of course,
+you recognize it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Burchill glanced at the letter without turning a hair. If he was merely
+acting, thought Barthorpe, he was doing it splendidly, and instead of
+writing dramatic criticism he ought to put on the sock and buskins
+himself. But somehow he began to believe that Burchill was not acting.
+And he was presently sure of it when Burchill laughed&mdash;contemptuously.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; said Burchill. &ldquo;Ah! So Mr. Jacob Herapath employs legal
+assistance&mdash;your assistance&mdash;in answering me? Foolish&mdash;foolish! Or,
+since that is, perhaps, too strong a word&mdash;indiscreet. Indiscreet&mdash;and
+unnecessary. Say so, pray, to Mr. Jacob Herapath.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe remained silent a moment; then he put the letter back in the
+case and gave Burchill a sharp steady look.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg&nbsp;82]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good gracious, man!&rdquo; he said quietly. &ldquo;Are you pretending? Or&mdash;haven&rsquo;t
+you heard? Say&mdash;that&mdash;to Jacob Herapath? Jacob Herapath is dead!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Burchill certainly started at that. What was more he dropped his
+cigarette, and when he straightened himself from picking it up his face
+was flushed a little.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Upon my honour!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t know. Dead! When? It must have
+been sudden.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sudden!&rdquo; said Barthorpe. &ldquo;Sudden? He was murdered!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There was no doubt that this surprised Burchill. At any rate, he showed
+all the genuine signs of surprise. He stood staring at Barthorpe for a
+full minute of silence, and when he spoke his voice had lost something
+of its usual affectation.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Murdered?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Murdered! Are you sure of that? You are? Good
+heavens!&mdash;no, I&rsquo;ve heard nothing. But I&rsquo;ve not been out since two
+o&rsquo;clock this morning, so how could I hear? Murdered&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; he broke off
+sharply and stared at his visitor. &ldquo;And you came to me&mdash;why?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I came to ask you if you remember witnessing my uncle&rsquo;s will,&rdquo; replied
+Barthorpe promptly. &ldquo;Give me a plain answer. Do you remember?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg&nbsp;83]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">greek against greek</p>
+
+<p>At this direct question, Burchill, who had been standing on the
+hearthrug since Barthorpe entered the room, turned away and took a seat
+in the corner of a lounge opposite his visitor. He gave Barthorpe a
+peculiarly searching look before he spoke, and as soon as he replied
+Barthorpe knew that here was a man who was not readily to be drawn.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; said Burchill, &ldquo;so I am supposed to have witnessed a will made by
+Mr. Jacob Herapath, am I?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe made a gesture of impatience.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t talk rot!&rdquo; he said testily. &ldquo;A man either knows that he witnessed
+a will or knows that he didn&rsquo;t witness a will.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Excuse me,&rdquo; returned Burchill, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t agree with that proposition. I
+can imagine it quite possible that a man may think he has witnessed a
+will when he has done nothing of the sort. I can also imagine it just as
+possible that a man may have really witnessed a will when he thought he
+was signing some much less important document. Of course, you&rsquo;re a
+lawyer, and I&rsquo;m not. But I believe that what I have just said is much
+more in accordance with what we may call the truth of life than what
+you&rsquo;ve said.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg&nbsp;84]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If a man sees another man sign a document and witnesses the signature
+together with a third man who had been present throughout, what would
+you say was being done?&rdquo; asked Barthorpe, sneeringly. &ldquo;Come, now?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I quite apprehend your meaning,&rdquo; replied Burchill. &ldquo;You put it very
+cleverly.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then why don&rsquo;t you answer my question?&rdquo; demanded Barthorpe.</p>
+
+<p>Burchill laughed softly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why not answer mine?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;However, I&rsquo;ll ask it in another and
+more direct form. Have you seen my signature as witness to a will made
+by Jacob Herapath?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; replied Barthorpe.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Are you sure it was my signature?&rdquo; asked Burchill.</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe lifted his eyes and looked searchingly at his questioner. But
+Burchill&rsquo;s face told him nothing. What was more, he was beginning to
+feel that he was not going to get anything out of Burchill that Burchill
+did not want to tell. He remained silent, and again Burchill laughed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg&nbsp;85]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You see,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I can suppose all sorts of things. I can suppose,
+for example, that there&rsquo;s such a thing as forging a signature&mdash;two
+signatures&mdash;three signatures to a will&mdash;or, indeed, to any other
+document. Don&rsquo;t you think that instead of asking me a direct question
+like this that you&rsquo;d better wait until this will comes before the&mdash;is it
+the Probate Court?&mdash;and then let some of the legal gentlemen ask me if
+that&mdash;that!&mdash;is my signature? I&rsquo;m only putting it to you, you know. But
+perhaps you&rsquo;d like to tell me&mdash;all about it?&rdquo; He paused, looking
+carefully at Barthorpe, and as Barthorpe made no immediate answer, he
+went on speaking in a lower, softer tone. &ldquo;All about it,&rdquo; he repeated
+insinuatingly. &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe suddenly flung his cigarette in the hearth with a gesture that
+implied decision.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;It may be the shortest way out. Very
+well&mdash;listen, then. I tell you my uncle was murdered at his office
+about&mdash;well, somewhere between twelve and three o&rsquo;clock this morning.
+Naturally, after the preliminaries were over, I wanted to find out if
+he&rsquo;d made a will&mdash;naturally, I say.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Naturally, you would,&rdquo; murmured Burchill.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t believe he had,&rdquo; continued Barthorpe. &ldquo;But I examined his safe
+at the office, and I was going to examine that in his study at Portman
+Square when Tertius said in the presence of my cousin, myself, and
+Selwood, your successor, that there was a will, and produced one from a
+secret drawer in an old bureau&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A secret drawer in an old bureau!&rdquo; murmured Burchill. &ldquo;How deeply
+interesting for all of you!&mdash;quite dramatic. Yes?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Which, on being inspected,&rdquo; continued Barthorpe, &ldquo;proved to be a
+holograph&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pardon,&rdquo; interrupted Burchill, &ldquo;a holograph? Now, I am very ignorant.
+What is a holograph?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A holograph will is a will entirely written in the handwriting of the
+person who makes it,&rdquo; replied Barthorpe.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg&nbsp;86]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I see. So this was written out by Mr. Jacob Herapath, and witnessed
+by&mdash;whom?&rdquo; asked Burchill.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tertius as first witness, and you as second,&rdquo; answered Barthorpe. &ldquo;Now
+then, I&rsquo;ve told you all about it. What are you going to tell me?
+Come&mdash;did you witness this will or not? Good gracious, man!&mdash;don&rsquo;t you
+see what a serious thing it is?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How can I when I don&rsquo;t know the contents of the will?&rdquo; asked Burchill.
+&ldquo;You haven&rsquo;t told me that&mdash;yet.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe swallowed an exclamation of rage.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Contents!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;He left everything&mdash;everything!&mdash;to my
+cousin! Everything to her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And nothing to you,&rdquo; said Burchill, accentuating his habitual drawl.
+&ldquo;Really, how infernally inconsiderate! Yes&mdash;now I see that it is
+serious. But&mdash;only for you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe glared angrily at him and began to growl, almost
+threateningly. And Burchill spoke, soothingly and quietly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It does no good, you know. Serious&mdash;yes. Most
+serious&mdash;for you, as I said. But remember&mdash;only serious for you if the
+will is&mdash;good. Eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe jumped to his feet and thrust his hands in his pockets. He
+began to pace the room.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hang me if I know what you mean, Burchill!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Is that your
+signature on that will or not?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg&nbsp;87]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How can I say until I see it?&rdquo; asked Burchill, with seeming innocence.
+&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s postpone matters until then. By the by, did Mr. Tertius say that
+it was my signature?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What do you mean!&rdquo; exclaimed Barthorpe. &ldquo;Why, of course, he said that
+he and you witnessed the will!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, to be sure, he would say so,&rdquo; assented Burchill. &ldquo;Of course.
+Foolish of me to ask. It&rsquo;s quite evident that we must postpone matters
+until this will is&mdash;what do you call it?&mdash;presented, propounded&mdash;what is
+it?&mdash;for probate. Let&rsquo;s turn to something else. My letter to your uncle,
+for instance. Of course, as you&rsquo;ve got it, you&rsquo;ve read it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe sat down again and stared.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re a cool customer, Master Burchill!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;By Jove, you are!
+You&rsquo;re playing some game. What is it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Burchill smiled deprecatingly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s your own?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;Or, if that&rsquo;s too pointed a question at
+present, suppose we go back to&mdash;my letter? Want to ask me anything about
+it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe again drew the letter from the case. He affected to re-read
+it, while Burchill narrowly watched him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What,&rdquo; asked Barthorpe at last, &ldquo;what was it that you wanted my uncle
+to oblige you with? A loan?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If it&rsquo;s necessary to call it anything,&rdquo; replied Burchill suavely, &ldquo;you
+can call it a&mdash;well, say a donation. That sounds better&mdash;it&rsquo;s more
+dignified.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t suppose it matters much what it&rsquo;s called,&rdquo; said Barthorpe
+drily. &ldquo;I should say, from the tone of your letter, that most people
+would call it&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg&nbsp;88]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, but not polite people,&rdquo; interrupted Burchill, &ldquo;and you and I
+are&mdash;or must be&mdash;polite. So we&rsquo;ll say donation. The fact is, I want to
+start a newspaper&mdash;weekly&mdash;devoted to the arts. I thought your
+uncle&mdash;now, unfortunately, deceased&mdash;would finance it. I didn&rsquo;t want
+much, you know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How much?&rdquo; asked Barthorpe. &ldquo;The amount isn&rsquo;t stated in this letter.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was stated in the two previous letters,&rdquo; replied Burchill. &ldquo;Oh, not
+much. Ten thousand.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The price of your silence, eh?&rdquo; suggested Barthorpe.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dirt cheap!&rdquo; answered Burchill.</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe folded up the letter once more and put it away. He helped
+himself to another cigarette and lighted it before he spoke again. Then
+he leaned forward confidentially.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is the secret?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>Burchill stated and assumed an air of virtuous surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My dear fellow!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s against all the rules&mdash;all the rules
+of&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of shady society,&rdquo; sneered Barthorpe. &ldquo;Confound it, man, what do you
+beat about the bush so much for? Hang it, I&rsquo;ve a pretty good notion of
+you, and I daresay you&rsquo;ve your own of me. Why can&rsquo;t you tell me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You forget that I offered not to tell for&mdash;ten thousand pounds,&rdquo; said
+Burchill. &ldquo;Therefore I should want quite as much for telling. If you
+carry ten thousand in cash on you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg&nbsp;89]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is there a secret?&rdquo; asked Barthorpe. &ldquo;Sober earnest, now?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have no objection to answering that question,&rdquo; replied Burchill.
+&ldquo;There is!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And you want ten thousand pounds for it?&rdquo; suggested Barthorpe.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pardon me&mdash;I want a good deal more for it, under the present much
+altered circumstances,&rdquo; said Burchill quietly. &ldquo;There is an old saying
+that circumstances alter cases. It&rsquo;s true&mdash;they do. I would have taken
+ten thousand pounds from your uncle to hold my tongue&mdash;true. But&mdash;the
+case is altered by his death.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe pondered over this definite declaration for a minute or two.
+Then, lowering his voice, he said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Looks uncommonly like&mdash;blackmail! And that&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pardon me again,&rdquo; interrupted Burchill. &ldquo;No blackmail at all&mdash;in my
+view. I happen to possess information of a certain nature, and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe interrupted in his turn.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The thing is,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;the only thing is&mdash;how long are you and I
+going to beat about the bush? Are you going to tell me if you signed
+that will I told you of?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Certainly not before I&rsquo;ve seen it,&rdquo; answered Burchill promptly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Will you tell me then?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That entirely depends.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On&mdash;what?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg&nbsp;90]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Circumstances!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Have the circumstances got anything to do with this secret?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Everything! More than anything&mdash;now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now&mdash;what?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now that Jacob Herapath is dead. Look here!&rdquo; continued Burchill,
+leaning forward and speaking impressively. &ldquo;Take my counsel. Leave this
+for the moment and come to see me&mdash;now, when? Tonight. Come tonight.
+I&rsquo;ve nothing to do. Come at ten o&rsquo;clock. Then&mdash;I&rsquo;ll be in a position to
+say a good deal more. How will that do?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;ll do,&rdquo; answered Barthorpe after a moment&rsquo;s consideration.
+&ldquo;Tonight, here, at ten o &rsquo;clock.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He got up and made for the door. Burchill got up too, and for a moment
+both men glanced at each other. Then Burchill spoke.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I suppose you&rsquo;ve no idea who murdered your uncle?&rdquo; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not the slightest!&rdquo; exclaimed Barthorpe. &ldquo;Have you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;None! Of course&mdash;the police are on the go?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, of course!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right,&rdquo; said Burchill. &ldquo;Tonight, then.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He opened the door for his visitor, nodded to him, as he passed out, and
+when he had gone sat down in the easy chair which Barthorpe had vacated
+and for half an hour sat immobile, thinking. At the end of that
+half-hour he rose, went into his bedroom, made an elaborate toilet, went
+out, found a taxi-cab, and drove off to Portman Square.</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg&nbsp;91]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">mr. benjamin halfpenny</p>
+
+<p>When Barthorpe Herapath left his cousin, Mr. Tertius, and Selwood in
+company with the newly discovered will, and walked swiftly out of the
+house and away from Portman Square, he passed without seeing it a quiet,
+yet smartly appointed <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">coup&eacute;</span> brougham which came round the corner from
+Portman Street and pulled up at the door which Barthorpe had just
+quitted. From it at once descended an elderly gentleman, short, stout,
+and rosy, who bustled up the steps of the Herapath mansion and appeared
+to fume and fret until his summons was responded to. When the door was
+opened to him he bustled inside at the same rate, rapped out the
+inquiry, &ldquo;Miss Wynne at home?&mdash;Miss Wynne at home?&rdquo; several times
+without waiting for a reply, and never ceased in his advance to the door
+of the study, into which he precipitated himself panting and blowing, as
+if he had run hard all the way from his original starting-point. The
+three people standing on the hearthrug turned sharply and two of them
+uttered cries which betokened pleasure mixed with relief.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Halfpenny!&rdquo; exclaimed Peggie, almost joyfully. &ldquo;How good of you to
+come!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg&nbsp;92]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We had only just spoken&mdash;were only just speaking of you,&rdquo; remarked Mr.
+Tertius. &ldquo;In fact&mdash;yes, Mr. Selwood and I were thinking of going round
+to your offices to see if you were in town.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The short, stout, and rosy gentleman who, as soon as he had got well
+within the room, began to unswathe his neck from a voluminous white silk
+muffler, now completed his task and advancing upon Peggie solemnly
+kissed her on both cheeks, held her away from him, looked at her, kissed
+her again, and then patted her on the shoulder. This done, he shook
+hands solemnly with Mr. Tertius, bowed to Selwood, took off his
+spectacles and proceeded to polish them with a highly-coloured bandana
+handkerchief which he produced from the tail of his overcoat. This
+operation concluded, he restored the spectacles to his nose, sat down,
+placed his hands, palm downwards, on his plump knees and solemnly
+inspected everybody.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My dear friends!&rdquo; he said in a hushed, deep voice. &ldquo;My dear, good
+friends! This dreadful, awful, most afflicting news! I heard it but
+three-quarters of an hour ago&mdash;at the office, to which I happened by
+mere chance, to have come up for the day. I immediately ordered out our
+brougham and drove here&mdash;to see if I could be of any use. You will
+command me, my dear friends, in anything that I can do. Not
+professionally, of course. No&mdash;in that respect you have Mr. Barthorpe
+Herapath. But&mdash;otherwise.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius looked at Peggie.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg&nbsp;93]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know whether we shan&rsquo;t be glad of Mr. Halfpenny&rsquo;s professional
+services?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The truth is, Halfpenny, we were talking of seeing
+you professionally when you came in. That&rsquo;s one truth&mdash;another is that a
+will has been found&mdash;our poor friend&rsquo;s will, of course.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;God bless me!&rdquo; exclaimed Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;A will&mdash;our poor friend&rsquo;s
+will&mdash;has been found! But surely, Barthorpe, as nephew, and
+solicitor&mdash;eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Again Mr. Tertius looked at Peggie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I suppose we&rsquo;d better tell Mr. Halfpenny everything,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;Of
+course, Halfpenny, you&rsquo;ll understand that as soon as this dreadful
+affair was discovered and the first arrangements had been made,
+Barthorpe, as only male relative, began to search for a will. He
+resented any interference from me and was very rude to me, but when he
+came here and proposed to examine that safe, I told him at once that I
+knew of a will and where it was, though I didn&rsquo;t know its terms. And I
+immediately directed him to it, and we found it and read it a few
+minutes ago with the result that Barthorpe at once quitted the
+house&mdash;you must have passed him in the square.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;God bless us!&rdquo; repeated Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;I judge from that, then&mdash;but
+you had better show me this document.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius at once produced the will, and Mr. Halfpenny, rising from
+his chair, marched across the room to one of the windows where he
+solemnly half-chanted every word from start to finish. This performance
+over, he carefully and punctiliously folded the document into its
+original lines, replaced it in its envelope, and grasping this firmly in
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg&nbsp;94]</a></span>his hand, resumed his seat and motioned everybody to attention.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My dear Tertius!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Oblige me by narrating, carefully, briefly,
+your recollection of the circumstances under which your signature to
+this highly important document was obtained and made.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Easily done,&rdquo; responded Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;One night, some months ago, when
+our poor friend was at work here with his secretary, a Mr. Frank
+Burchill, he called me into the room, just as Burchill was about to
+leave. He said: &lsquo;I want you two to witness my signature to a paper.&rsquo;
+He&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A moment,&rdquo; interrupted Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;He said&mdash;&lsquo;a paper.&rsquo; Did he not
+say &lsquo;my will&rsquo;?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not before the two of us. He merely said a paper. He produced the
+paper&mdash;that paper, which you now hold. He let us see that it was covered
+with writing, but we did not see what the writing was. He folded it
+over, laid it, so folded, on that desk, and signed his name. Then we
+both signed it in the blank spaces which he indicated: I first, then
+Burchill. He then put it into an envelope&mdash;that envelope&mdash;and fastened
+it up. As regards that part of the proceedings,&rdquo; said Mr. Tertius, &ldquo;that
+is all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There was, then, another part?&rdquo; suggested Mr. Halfpenny.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg&nbsp;95]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; replied Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;There was. Burchill then left&mdash;at once. I,
+too, was leaving the room when Jacob called me back. When we were alone,
+he said: &lsquo;That was my will that you&rsquo;ve just witnessed. Never mind what&rsquo;s
+in it&mdash;I may alter it, or some of it, some day, but I don&rsquo;t think I
+shall. Now look here, I&rsquo;m going to seal this envelope, and I&rsquo;ll show you
+where I put it when it&rsquo;s sealed.&rsquo; He then sealed the envelope in two
+places, as you see, and afterwards, in my presence, placed it in a
+secret drawer, which I&rsquo;ll show to you now. And that done, he said:
+&lsquo;There, Tertius, you needn&rsquo;t mention that to anybody, unless I happen to
+be taken off suddenly.&rsquo; And,&rdquo; concluded Mr. Tertius, as he motioned Mr.
+Halfpenny to accompany him to the old bureau, &ldquo;I never, of course, did
+mention it until half an hour ago.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny solemnly inspected the secret drawer, made no remark upon
+it, and reseated himself.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;this Mr. Frank Burchill&mdash;the other witness? He left our
+old friend?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Some little time ago,&rdquo; replied Mr. Tertius.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Still, we have his address on the will,&rdquo; said Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;I shall
+call on Mr. Burchill at once&mdash;as soon as I leave here. There is, of
+course, no doubt as to the validity of this will. You said just now that
+Barthorpe left you as soon as he had seen it. Now, what did Barthorpe
+say about it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing!&rdquo; answered Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;He went away without a word&mdash;rushed
+away, in fact.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny shook his head with profound solemnity.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg&nbsp;96]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am not in the least surprised to hear that,&rdquo; he observed. &ldquo;Barthorpe
+naturally received a great shock. What I am surprised at is&mdash;the terms
+of the will. Nothing whatever to Barthorpe&mdash;his only male relative&mdash;his
+only brother&rsquo;s only son. Extraordinary! My dear,&rdquo; he continued, turning
+to Peggie, &ldquo;can you account for this? Do you know of anything, any
+difference between them, anything at all which would make your uncle
+leave his nephew out of his will?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing!&rdquo; answered Peggie. &ldquo;And I&rsquo;m very troubled about it. Does it
+really mean that I get everything, and Barthorpe nothing?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is the precise state of affairs,&rdquo; answered Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;And it
+is all the more surprising when we bear in mind that you two are the
+only relations Jacob Herapath had, and that he was a rich man&mdash;a very
+rich man indeed. However, he doubtless had his reasons. And now, as I
+conclude you desire me to act for you, I shall take charge of this will
+and lock it up in my safe as soon as I return to the office. On my way,
+I shall call at Mr. Burchill&rsquo;s address and just have a word with him.
+Tertius, you had better come with me. And&mdash;yes, there is another thing
+that I should like to have done. Mr. Selwood&mdash;are you engaged on any
+business?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied Selwood, who was secretly speculating on the meaning of
+the morning&rsquo;s strange events. &ldquo;I have nothing to attend to.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg&nbsp;97]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then will you go to Mr. Barthorpe Herapath&rsquo;s office&mdash;in Craven Street,
+I think?&mdash;and see him personally and tell him that Mr. Benjamin
+Halfpenny is in town, has been acquainted with these matters by Mr.
+Tertius and Miss Wynne, and would esteem it a favour if he would call
+upon him before five o&rsquo;clock. Thank you, Mr. Selwood. Now, Tertius, you
+and I will attend to our business.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Left alone, Peggie Wynne suddenly realized that the world had become a
+vastly different world to what it had seemed a few short hours before.
+This room, into which Jacob Herapath, bustling and busy, would never
+come again, was already a place of dread; nay, the whole house in which
+she had spent so many years of comfort and luxury suddenly assumed a
+strange atmosphere of distastefulness. It was true that her uncle had
+never spent much time in the house. An hour or two in the morning&mdash;yes,
+but by noon he had hurried off to some Committee at the House of
+Commons, and in session time she had never seen him again that day. But
+he had a trick of running in for a few minutes at intervals during the
+day; he would come for a cup of tea; sometimes he would contrive to dine
+at home; whether he was at home or not, his presence, always alert,
+masterful, active, seemed to be everywhere in the place. She could
+scarcely realize that she would never see him again. And as she stood
+looking at his vacant chair she made an effort to realize what it all
+really meant to her, and suddenly, for the first time in her life, she
+felt the meaning of the usually vague term&mdash;loneliness. In all practical
+essentials she was absolutely alone. So far as she knew she had no
+relations in the world but Barthorpe Herapath&mdash;and there was
+something&mdash;something shadowy and undefinable&mdash;about Barthorpe which she
+neither liked nor trusted. Moreover, she had caught a glimpse of
+Barthorpe&rsquo;s face as he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg&nbsp;98]</a></span>turned from looking at the will and hurried
+away, and what she had seen had given her a strange feeling of fear and
+discomfort. Barthorpe, she knew, was not the sort of man to be crossed
+or thwarted or balked of his will, and now&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Supposing Barthorpe should begin to hate me because all the money is
+mine?&rdquo; she thought. &ldquo;Then&mdash;why, then I should have no one! No one of my
+own flesh and blood, anyway. Of course, there&rsquo;s Mr. Tertius. But&mdash;I must
+see Barthorpe. I must tell him that I shall insist on sharing&mdash;if it&rsquo;s
+all mine, I can do that. And yet&mdash;why didn&rsquo;t Uncle Jacob divide it? Why
+did he leave Barthorpe&mdash;nothing?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Still pondering sadly over these and kindred subjects Peggie went
+upstairs to a parlour of her own, a room in which she did as she liked
+and made into a den after her own taste. There, while the November
+afternoon deepened in shadow, she sat and thought still more deeply. And
+she was still plunged in thought when Kitteridge came softly into the
+room and presented a card. Peggie took it from the butler&rsquo;s salver and
+glanced half carelessly at it. Then she looked at Kitteridge with some
+concern.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Burchill?&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Here?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, miss,&rdquo; answered Kitteridge. &ldquo;Mr. Burchill desired me to present his
+most respectful sympathy, and to say that if he could be of any service
+to you or to the family, he begged that you would command him. His
+address is on this card, miss.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg&nbsp;99]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very kind of him,&rdquo; murmured Peggie, and laid the card aside on her
+writing-table. When Kitteridge had gone she picked it up and looked at
+it again. Burchill?&mdash;she had been thinking of him only a few minutes
+before the butler&rsquo;s entrance; thinking a good deal. And her thoughts had
+been disquieted and unhappy. Burchill was the last man in the world that
+she wished to have anything to do with, and the fact that his name
+appeared on Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s will had disturbed her more than she would
+have cared to admit.</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg&nbsp;100]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">the shadow</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny, conducting Mr. Tertius to the <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">coup&eacute;</span>
+brougham, installed him in its further corner, got in himself and bade his
+coachman drive slowly to 331, Upper Seymour Street.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I said slowly,&rdquo; he remarked as they moved gently away, &ldquo;because I
+wanted a word with you before we see this young man. Tertius&mdash;what&rsquo;s the
+meaning of all this?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius groaned dolefully and shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There is so much, Halfpenny,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;that I don&rsquo;t quite know
+what you specifically mean by this. Do you mean&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I mean, first of all, Herapath&rsquo;s murder,&rdquo; said Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;You
+think it is a case of murder?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure it&rsquo;s a case of murder&mdash;cold, calculated murder,&rdquo; replied Mr.
+Tertius, with energy. &ldquo;Vile murder, Halfpenny.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And, as far as you know, is there no clue?&rdquo; asked the old lawyer.
+&ldquo;There&rsquo;s nothing said or suggested in the newspapers. Haven&rsquo;t you any
+notion&mdash;hasn&rsquo;t Barthorpe any notion?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius remained silent for a while. The <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">coup&eacute;</span>
+brougham turned into Upper Seymour Street.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg&nbsp;101]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think,&rdquo; he said at last, &ldquo;yes, I think that when we&rsquo;ve made this
+call, I shall ask you to accompany me to my friend Cox-Raythwaite&rsquo;s, in
+Endsleigh Gardens&mdash;you know him, I believe. I&rsquo;ve already seen him this
+morning and told him&mdash;something. When we get there, I&rsquo;ll tell it to you,
+and he shall show you&mdash;something. After that, we&rsquo;ll hear what your legal
+instinct suggests. It is my opinion, Halfpenny&mdash;I offer it with all
+deference, as a layman&mdash;that great, excessive caution is necessary. This
+case is extraordinary&mdash;very extraordinary. That is&mdash;in my opinion.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s an extraordinary thing that Jacob Herapath should have made that
+will,&rdquo; murmured Mr. Halfpenny reflectively. &ldquo;Why Barthorpe should be
+entirely ignored is&mdash;to me&mdash;marvellous. And&mdash;it may be&mdash;significant. You
+never heard of any difference, quarrel, anything of that sort, between
+him and his uncle?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have not the remotest notion as to what the relations were that
+existed between the uncle and the nephew,&rdquo; replied Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;And
+though, as I have said, I knew that the will was in existence, I hadn&rsquo;t
+the remotest idea, the faintest notion, of its contents until we took it
+out of the sealed envelope an hour or so ago. But&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; he paused and
+shook his head meaningly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well?&rdquo; said Mr. Halfpenny.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m very sure, knowing Jacob as I did, that he had a purpose in making
+that will,&rdquo; answered Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;He was not the man to do anything
+without good reasons. I think we are here.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg&nbsp;102]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The landlady of No. 331 opened its door herself to these two visitors.
+Her look of speculative interest on seeing two highly respectable
+elderly gentlemen changed to one of inquisitiveness when she heard what
+they wanted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;Mr. Frank Burchill doesn&rsquo;t live here now. And
+it&rsquo;s a queer thing that during the time he did live here and gave me
+more trouble than any lodger I ever had, him keeping such strange hours
+of a night and early morning, he never had nobody to call on him, as I
+recollect of! And now here&rsquo;s been three gentlemen asking for him within
+this last hour&mdash;you two and another gentleman. And I don&rsquo;t know where
+Mr. Burchill lives, and don&rsquo;t want, neither!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My dear lady!&rdquo; said Mr. Halfpenny, mildly and suavely. &ldquo;I am sure we
+are deeply sorry to disturb you&mdash;no doubt we have called you away from
+your dinner. Perhaps, er, this&rdquo;&mdash;here there was a slight chink of silver
+in Mr. Halfpenny&rsquo;s hand, presently repeated in one of the
+landlady&rsquo;s&mdash;&ldquo;will, er, compensate you a little? But we are really
+anxious to see Mr. Burchill&mdash;haven&rsquo;t you any idea where he&rsquo;s gone to
+live? Didn&rsquo;t he leave an address for any letters that might come here?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He didn&rsquo;t, sir&mdash;not that he ever had many letters,&rdquo; answered the
+landlady. &ldquo;And I haven&rsquo;t the remotest notion. Of course, if I had I&rsquo;d
+give the address. But, as I said to the gentleman what was here not so
+long ago, I&rsquo;ve neither seen nor heard of Mr. Burchill since he left&mdash;and
+that&rsquo;s six months since.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg&nbsp;103]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny contrived to give his companion a nudge of the elbow.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is it, indeed, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Ah! That gentleman who called, now?&mdash;I
+think he must be a friend of ours, who didn&rsquo;t know we were coming. What
+was he like, now, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He was a tallish, fine-built gentleman,&rdquo; answered the landlady.
+&ldquo;Fresh-coloured, clean-shaved gentleman. And for that matter, he can&rsquo;t
+be so far away&mdash;it isn&rsquo;t more than a quarter of an hour since he was
+here. I&rsquo;ll ask my girl if she saw which way he went.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t trouble, pray, ma&rsquo;am, on my account,&rdquo; entreated Mr. Halfpenny.
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s of no consequence. We&rsquo;re deeply obliged to you.&rdquo; He swept off his
+hat in an old-fashioned obeisance and drew Mr. Tertius away to the <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">coup&eacute;</span>
+brougham. &ldquo;That was Barthorpe, of course,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;He lost no time,
+you see, Tertius, in trying to see Burchill.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why should he want to see Burchill?&rdquo; asked Mr. Tertius.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wanted to know what Burchill had to say about signing the will, of
+course,&rdquo; replied Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;Well&mdash;what next? Do you want me to see
+Cox-Raythwaite with you?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg&nbsp;104]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius, who had seemed to be relapsing into a brown study on the
+edge of the pavement, woke up into some show of eagerness. &ldquo;Yes, yes!&rdquo;
+he said. &ldquo;Yes, by all means let us go to Cox-Raythwaite. I&rsquo;m sure that&rsquo;s
+the thing to do. And there&rsquo;s another man&mdash;the chauffeur. But&mdash;yes, we&rsquo;ll
+go to Cox-Raythwaite first. Tell your man to drive to the corner of
+Endsleigh Gardens&mdash;the corner by St. Pancras Church.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Professor Cox-Raythwaite was exactly where Mr. Tertius had left him in
+the morning, when the two visitors were ushered into his laboratory. And
+for the second time that day he listened in silence to Mr. Tertius&rsquo;s
+story. When it was finished, he looked at Mr. Halfpenny, whose solemn
+countenance had grown more solemn than ever.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Queer story, isn&rsquo;t it, Halfpenny?&rdquo; he said laconically. &ldquo;How does it
+strike you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny slowly opened his pursed-up lips.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Queer?&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;God bless me!&mdash;I&rsquo;m astounded! I&mdash;but let me see
+these&mdash;these things.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sealed &rsquo;em up not so long ago&mdash;just after lunch,&rdquo; remarked the
+Professor, lifting his heavy bulk out of his chair. &ldquo;But you can see &rsquo;em
+all right through the glass. There you are!&rdquo; He led the way to a
+side-table and pointed to the hermetically-sealed receptacles in which
+he had safely bestowed the tumbler and the sandwich brought so gingerly
+from Portman Square by Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;The tumbler,&rdquo; he continued, jerking
+a big thumb at it, &ldquo;will have, of course, to be carefully examined by an
+expert in finger-prints; the sandwich, so to speak, affords primary
+evidence. You see&mdash;what there is to see, Halfpenny?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny adjusted his spectacles, bent down, and examined the
+exhibits with scrupulous, absorbed interest. Again he pursed up his
+lips, firmly, tightly, as if he would never open them again; when he did
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg&nbsp;105]</a></span>open them it was to emit a veritable whistle which indicated almost as
+much delight as astonishment. Then he clapped Mr. Tertius on the back.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A veritable stroke of genius!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;Tertius, my boy, you
+should have been a Vidocq or a Hawkshaw! How did you come to think of
+it? For I confess that with all my forty years&rsquo; experience of Law,
+I&mdash;well, I don&rsquo;t think I should ever have thought of it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; said Mr. Tertius, modestly. &ldquo;I&mdash;well, I looked&mdash;and
+then, of course, I saw. That&rsquo;s all!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny sat down and put his hands on his knees.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a good job you did see, anyway,&rdquo; he said, ruminatively; &ldquo;an
+uncommonly good job. Well&mdash;you&rsquo;re certain of what we may call the
+co-relative factor to what is most obvious in that sandwich?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Absolutely certain,&rdquo; replied Mr. Tertius.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And you&rsquo;re equally certain about the diamond ring?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Equally and positively certain!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg&nbsp;106]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then,&rdquo; said Mr. Halfpenny, rising with great decision, &ldquo;there is only
+one thing to be done. You and I, Tertius, must go at once&mdash;at once!&mdash;to
+New Scotland Yard. In fact, we will drive straight there. I happen to
+know a man who is highly placed in the Criminal Investigation
+Department&mdash;we will put our information before him. He will know what
+ought to be done. In my opinion, it is one of those cases which will
+require infinite care, precaution, and, for the time being,
+secrecy&mdash;mole&rsquo;s work. Let us go, my dear friend.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Want me&mdash;and these things?&rdquo; asked the Professor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;For the time being, no,&rdquo; answered Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;Nor, at present, the
+taxi-cab driver that Tertius has told us of. We&rsquo;ll merely tell what we
+know. But take care of these&mdash;these exhibits, as if they were the apples
+of your eyes, Cox-Raythwaite. They&mdash;yes, they may hang somebody!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Half an hour later saw Mr. Halfpenny and Mr. Tertius closeted with a
+gentleman who, in appearance, resembled the popular conception of a
+country squire and was in reality as keen a tracker-down of wrong-doers
+as ever trod the pavement of Parliament Street. And before Mr. Halfpenny
+had said many words he stopped him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wait a moment,&rdquo; he said, touching a bell at his side, &ldquo;we&rsquo;re already
+acquainted, of course, with the primary facts of this case, and I&rsquo;ve
+told off one of our sharpest men to give special attention to it. We&rsquo;ll
+have him in.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The individual who presently entered and who was introduced to the two
+callers as Detective-Inspector Davidge looked neither preternaturally
+wise nor abnormally acute. What he really did remind Mr. Tertius of was
+a gentleman of the better-class commercial traveller persuasion&mdash;he was
+comfortable, solid, genial, and smartly if quietly dressed. And he and
+the highly placed gentleman listened to all that the two <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg&nbsp;107]</a></span>visitors had
+to tell with quiet and concentrated attention and did not even exchange
+looks with each other. In the end the superior nodded as if something
+satisfied him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Now the first thing is&mdash;silence. You two
+gentlemen will not breathe a word of all this to any one. As you said
+just now, Mr. Halfpenny, the present policy is&mdash;secrecy. There will be a
+great deal of publicity during the next few days&mdash;the inquest, and so
+on. We shall not be much concerned with it&mdash;the public will say that as
+usual we are doing nothing. You may think so, too. But you may count on
+this&mdash;we shall be doing a great deal, and within a very short time from
+now we shall never let Mr. Barthorpe Herapath out of our sight until&mdash;we
+want him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just so,&rdquo; assented Mr. Halfpenny. He took Mr. Tertius away, and when he
+had once more bestowed him in the <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">coup&eacute;</span>
+brougham, dug him in the ribs. &ldquo;Tertius!&rdquo; he said, with
+something like a dry chuckle. &ldquo;What an extraordinary thing it is that
+people can go about the world unconscious that other folks are taking a
+very close and warm interest in them! Now, I&rsquo;ll lay a pound to a
+penny that Barthorpe hasn&rsquo;t a ghost of a notion that he&rsquo;s
+already under suspicion. My idea of the affair, sir, is that he has not the
+mere phantasm of such a thing. And yet, from now, as our friend there
+observed, Master Barthorpe, sir, will be watched. Shadowed, Tertius,
+shadowed!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg&nbsp;108]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe Herapath certainly had none of the notions of which Mr.
+Halfpenny spoke. He spent his afternoon, once having quitted Burchill&rsquo;s
+flat, in a businesslike fashion. He visited the estate office in
+Kensington; he went to see the undertaker who had been charged with the
+funeral arrangements; he called in at the local police-office and saw
+the inspector and the detective who had first been brought into
+connection with the case; he made some arrangements with the Coroner&rsquo;s
+officer about the necessary inevitable inquest. He did all these things
+in the fashion of a man who has nothing to fear, who is unconscious that
+other men are already eyeing him with suspicion. And he was quite
+unaware that when he left his office in Craven Street that evening he
+was followed by a man who quietly attended him to his bachelor rooms in
+the Adelphi, who waited patiently until he emerged from them to dine at
+a neighbouring restaurant, who himself dined at the same place, and who
+eventually tracked him to Maida Vale and watched him enter Calengrove
+Mansions.</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg&nbsp;109]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">for ten per cent</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Frank Burchill welcomed his visitor with easy familiarity&mdash;this
+might have been a mere dropping-in of one friend to another, for the
+very ordinary purpose of spending a quiet social hour before retiring
+for the night. There was a bright fire on the hearth, a small
+smoking-jacket on Burchill&rsquo;s graceful shoulders and fancy slippers on
+his feet; decanters and glasses were set out on the table in company
+with cigars and cigarettes. And by the side of Burchill&rsquo;s easy chair was
+a pile of newspapers, to which he pointed one of his slim white hands as
+the two men settled themselves to talk.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been reading all the newspapers I could get hold of,&rdquo; he observed.
+&ldquo;Brought all the latest editions in with me after dinner. There&rsquo;s little
+more known, I think, than when you were here this afternoon.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s nothing more known,&rdquo; replied Barthorpe. &ldquo;That is&mdash;as far as I&rsquo;m
+aware.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Burchill took a sip at his glass and regarded Barthorpe thoughtfully
+over its rim.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In strict confidence,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;have you got any idea whatever on the
+subject?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg&nbsp;110]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;None!&rdquo; answered Barthorpe. &ldquo;None whatever! I&rsquo;ve no more idea of who it
+was that killed my uncle than I have of the name of the horse that&rsquo;ll
+win the Derby of year after next! That&rsquo;s a fact. There isn&rsquo;t a clue.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The police are at work, of course,&rdquo; suggested Burchill.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course!&rdquo; replied Barthorpe, with an unconcealed sneer. &ldquo;And a lot of
+good they are. Whoever knew the police to find out anything, except by a
+lucky accident?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just so,&rdquo; agreed Burchill. &ldquo;But then&mdash;accidents, lucky or otherwise,
+will happen. You can&rsquo;t think of anybody whose interest it was to get
+your esteemed relative out of the way?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nobody!&rdquo; said Barthorpe. &ldquo;There may have been somebody. We want to know
+who the man was who came out of the House with him last night&mdash;so far we
+don&rsquo;t know. It&rsquo;ll all take a lot of finding out. In the meantime&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In the meantime, you&rsquo;re much more concerned and interested in the will,
+eh?&rdquo; said Burchill.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m much more concerned&mdash;being a believer in present necessities&mdash;in
+hearing what you&rsquo;ve got to say to me now that you&rsquo;ve brought me here,&rdquo;
+answered Barthorpe, coolly. &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I&rsquo;ve a lot to say,&rdquo; replied Burchill. &ldquo;Quite a lot. But you&rsquo;ll have
+to let me say it in my own fashion. And to start with, I want to ask you
+a few questions. About your family history, for instance.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg&nbsp;111]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know next to nothing about my family history,&rdquo; said Barthorpe; &ldquo;but
+if my knowledge is helpful to what we&mdash;or I&mdash;want to talk about, fire
+ahead!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good!&rdquo; responded Burchill. &ldquo;Now, just tell me what you know about Mr.
+Jacob Herapath, about his brother, your father, and about his sister,
+who was, of course, Miss Wynne&rsquo;s mother. Briefly&mdash;concisely.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not so much,&rdquo; answered Barthorpe. &ldquo;My grandfather was a medical
+man&mdash;pretty well known, I fancy&mdash;at Granchester, in Yorkshire; I, of
+course, never knew or saw him. He had three children. The eldest was
+Jacob, who came to his end last night. Jacob left Granchester for
+London, eventually began speculating in real estate, and became&mdash;what he
+was. The second was Richard, my father. He went out to Canada as a lad,
+and did there pretty much what Jacob did here in London&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;With the same results?&rdquo; interjected Burchill.</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe made a wry face.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Unfortunately, no!&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;He did remarkably well to a certain
+point&mdash;then he made some most foolish and risky speculations in American
+railroads, lost pretty nearly everything he&rsquo;d made, and died a poorish
+man.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh&mdash;he&rsquo;s dead, then?&rdquo; remarked Burchill.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He&rsquo;s dead&mdash;years ago,&rdquo; replied Barthorpe. &ldquo;He died before I came to
+England. I, of course, was born out there. I&mdash;&mdash;.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never mind you just now,&rdquo; interrupted Burchill. &ldquo;Keep to the earlier
+branches of the family. Your grandfather had one other child?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg&nbsp;112]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A daughter,&rdquo; assented Barthorpe. &ldquo;I never saw her, either. However, I
+know that her name was Susan. I also know that she married a man named
+Wynne&mdash;my cousin&rsquo;s father, of course. I don&rsquo;t know who he was or
+anything about him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing&mdash;nothing at all: My Uncle Jacob never spoke of him to
+me&mdash;except to mention that such a person had once existed. My cousin
+doesn&rsquo;t know anything about him, either. All she knows is that her
+father and mother died when she was about&mdash;I think&mdash;two years old, and
+that Jacob then took charge of her. When she was six years old, he
+brought her to live with him. That was about the time I myself came to
+England.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right,&rdquo; said Burchill. &ldquo;Now, we&rsquo;ll come to you. Tell about
+yourself. It all matters.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, of course, I don&rsquo;t know what you&rsquo;re getting at,&rdquo; replied
+Barthorpe. &ldquo;But I&rsquo;m sure you do. Myself, eh? Well, I was put to the Law
+out there in Canada. When my father died&mdash;not over well off&mdash;I wrote to
+Uncle Jacob, telling him all about how things were. He suggested that I
+should come over to this country, finish my legal training here, and
+qualify. He also promised&mdash;if I suited him&mdash;to give me his legal work.
+And, of course, I came.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Naturally,&rdquo; said Burchill. &ldquo;And that&rsquo;s&mdash;how long ago?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Between fifteen and sixteen years,&rdquo; answered Barthorpe.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg&nbsp;113]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did Jacob Herapath take you into his house?&rdquo; asked Burchill,
+continuing the examination which Barthorpe was beginning to find irksome
+as well as puzzling. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m asking all this for good reasons&mdash;it&rsquo;s
+necessary, if you&rsquo;re to understand what I&rsquo;m going to tell you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, as long as you&rsquo;re going to tell me something I don&rsquo;t mind telling
+you anything you like to ask,&rdquo; replied Barthorpe. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s what I want to
+be getting at. No&mdash;he didn&rsquo;t take me into the house. But he gave me a
+very good allowance, paid all my expenses until I got through my
+remaining examinations and stages, and was very decent all around. No&mdash;I
+fixed up in the rooms which I&rsquo;ve still got&mdash;a flat in the Adelphi.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But you went a good deal to Portman Square?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, yes, a good deal&mdash;once or twice a week, as a rule.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Had your cousin&mdash;Miss Wynne&mdash;come there then?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, she&rsquo;d just about come. I remember she had a governess. Of course,
+Peggie was a mere child then&mdash;about five or six. Must have been six,
+because she&rsquo;s quite twenty-one now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And&mdash;Mr. Tertius?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Burchill spoke the name with a good deal of subtle meaning, and
+Barthorpe suddenly looked at him with a rising comprehension.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tertius?&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;No&mdash;Tertius hadn&rsquo;t arrived on the scene then.
+He came&mdash;soon after.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How soon after?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg&nbsp;114]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I should say,&rdquo; replied Barthorpe, after a moment&rsquo;s consideration, &ldquo;I
+should say&mdash;from my best recollection&mdash;a few months after I came to
+London. It was certainly within a year of my coming.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You remember his coming?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not particularly. I remember that he came&mdash;at first, I took it, as a
+visitor. Then I found he&rsquo;d had rooms of his own given him, and that he
+was there as a permanency.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Settled down&mdash;just as he has been ever since?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just! Never any difference that I&rsquo;ve known of, all these years.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did Jacob ever tell you who he was?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never! I never remember my uncle speaking of him in any particular
+fashion&mdash;to me. He was simply&mdash;there. Sometimes, you saw him; sometimes,
+you didn&rsquo;t see him. At times, I mean, you&rsquo;d meet him at dinner&mdash;other
+times, you didn&rsquo;t.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Burchill paused for a while; when he asked his next question he seemed
+to adopt a more particular and pressing tone.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now&mdash;have you the least idea who Tertius is?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not the slightest!&rdquo; affirmed Barthorpe. &ldquo;I never have known who he is.
+I never liked him&mdash;I didn&rsquo;t like his sneaky way of going about the
+house&mdash;I didn&rsquo;t like anything of him&mdash;and he never liked me. I always
+had a feeling&mdash;a sort of intuition&mdash;that he resented my presence&mdash;in
+fact, my existence.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very likely,&rdquo; said Burchill, with a dry laugh. &ldquo;Well&mdash;has it ever
+struck you that there was a secret between Tertius and Jacob Herapath?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg&nbsp;115]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe started. At last they were coming to something definite.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;So&mdash;that&rsquo;s the secret you mentioned in that
+letter?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never mind,&rdquo; replied Burchill. &ldquo;Answer my question.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, then&mdash;it never did strike me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; said Burchill. &ldquo;There is a secret.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There is?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There is! And,&rdquo; whispered Burchill, rising and coming nearer to his
+visitor, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s a secret that will put you in possession of the whole of
+the Herapath property! And&mdash;I know it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe had by this time realized the situation. And he was thinking
+things over at a rapid rate. Burchill had asked Jacob Herapath for ten
+thousand pounds as the price of his silence; therefore&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And, of course, you want to make something out of your knowledge?&rdquo; he
+said presently.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; laughed Burchill. He opened a box of cigars, selected one
+and carefully trimmed the end before lighting it. &ldquo;Of course!&rdquo; he
+repeated. &ldquo;Who wouldn&rsquo;t? Besides, you&rsquo;ll be in a position to afford me
+something when you come into all that.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The will?&rdquo; suggested Barthorpe.</p>
+
+<p>Burchill threw the burnt-out match into the fire.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The will,&rdquo; he said slowly, &ldquo;will be about as valuable as that&mdash;when
+I&rsquo;ve fixed things up with you. Valueless!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You mean it?&rdquo; exclaimed Barthorpe incredulously. &ldquo;Then&mdash;your
+signature?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg&nbsp;116]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Look here!&rdquo; said Burchill. &ldquo;The only thing between us is&mdash;terms! Fix
+up terms with me, and I&rsquo;ll tell you the whole truth. And then&mdash;you&rsquo;ll
+see!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well&mdash;what terms?&rdquo; demanded Barthorpe, a little suspiciously. &ldquo;If you
+want money down&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You couldn&rsquo;t pay in cash down what I want, nor anything like it,&rdquo; said
+Burchill. &ldquo;I may want an advance that you can pay&mdash;but it will only be
+an advance. What I want is ten per cent. on the total value of Jacob
+Herapath&rsquo;s property.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good heavens!&rdquo; exclaimed Barthorpe. &ldquo;Why I believe he&rsquo;ll cut up for a
+good million and a half!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s about the figure&mdash;as I&rsquo;ve reckoned it,&rdquo; assented Burchill. &ldquo;But
+you&rsquo;ll have a lot left when you&rsquo;ve paid me ten per cent.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe fidgeted in his chair.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When did you find out this secret?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Got an idea of it just before I left Jacob, and worked it all out, to
+the last detail, after I left,&rdquo; replied Burchill. &ldquo;I tell you this for a
+certainty&mdash;when I&rsquo;ve told you all I know, you&rsquo;ll know for an absolute
+fact, that the Herapath property is&mdash;yours!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well!&rdquo; said Barthorpe. &ldquo;What do you want me to do?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Burchill moved across to a desk and produced some papers.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I want you to sign certain documents,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and then I&rsquo;ll tell you
+the whole story. If the story&rsquo;s no good, the documents are no good.
+How&rsquo;s that?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg&nbsp;117]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;ll do!&rdquo; answered Barthorpe. &ldquo;Let&rsquo;s get to business.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was one o&rsquo;clock in the morning when Barthorpe left Calengrove
+Mansions. But the eyes that had seen him enter saw him leave, and the
+shadow followed him through the sleeping town until he, too, sought his
+own place of slumber.</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg&nbsp;118]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">adjourned<span class='pagenum'><a name="page_119" id="page_119">[pg&nbsp;119]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Ever since Triffitt had made his lucky scoop in connection with the
+Herapath Mystery he had lived in a state of temporary glory, with strong
+hopes of making it a permanent one. Up to the morning of the event,
+which gave him a whole column of the <i>Argus</i> (big type, extra leaded),
+Triffitt, as a junior reporter, had never accomplished anything notable.
+As he was fond of remarking, he never got a chance. Police-court
+cases&mdash;county-court cases&mdash;fires&mdash;coroners&rsquo; inquests&mdash;street
+accidents&mdash;they were all exciting enough, no doubt, to the people
+actively concerned in them, but you never got more than twenty or thirty
+lines out of their details. However, the chance did come that morning,
+and Triffitt made the most of it, and the news editor (a highly exacting
+and particular person) blessed him moderately, and told him, moreover,
+that he could call the Herapath case his own. Thenceforth Triffitt ate,
+drank, smoked, and slept with the case; it was the only thing he ever
+thought of. But at half-past one on the afternoon of the third day after
+what one may call the actual start of the affair, Triffitt sat in a dark
+corner of a tea-shop in Kensington High Street, munching ham sandwiches,
+sipping coffee, and thinking lugubriously, if not despairingly. He had
+spent two and a half hours in the adjacent Coroner&rsquo;s Court, listening to
+all that was said in evidence about the death of Jacob Herapath, and he
+had heard absolutely nothing that was not quite well known to him when
+the Coroner took his seat, inspected his jurymen, and opened the
+inquiry. Two and a half hours, at the end of which the court adjourned
+for lunch&mdash;and the affair was just as mysterious as ever, and not a
+single witness had said a new thing, not a single fresh fact had been
+brought forward out of which a fellow could make good, rousing copy!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Rotten!&rdquo; mumbled Triffitt into his cup. &ldquo;Extra rotten! Somebody&rsquo;s
+keeping something back&mdash;that&rsquo;s about it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Just then another young gentleman came into the alcove in which Triffitt
+sat disconsolate&mdash;a pink-cheeked young gentleman, who affected a tweed
+suit of loud checks and a sporting coat, and wore a bit of feather in
+the band of his rakish billycock. Triffitt recognized him as a
+fellow-scribe, one of the youthful bloods of an opposition journal, whom
+he sometimes met on the cricket-field; he also remembered that he had
+caught a glimpse of him in the Coroner&rsquo;s Court, and he hastened to make
+room for him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hullo!&rdquo; said Triffitt.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What-ho!&rdquo; responded the pink young gentleman. He beckoned knowingly to
+a waitress, and looked at her narrowly when she came. &ldquo;Got such a thing
+as a muffin?&rdquo; he asked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg&nbsp;120]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Muffins, sir&mdash;yes, sir,&rdquo; replied the waitress, &ldquo;Fresh muffins.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pick me out a nice, plump, newly killed muffin&rdquo; commanded Triffitt&rsquo;s
+companion. &ldquo;Leave it in its natural state&mdash;that is to say, cold&mdash;split
+it in half put between the halves a thick, generous slice of that cold
+ham I see on your counter, and produce it with a pot of fresh&mdash;and very
+hot&mdash;China tea. That&rsquo;s all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Plenty too, I should think!&rdquo; muttered Triffitt. &ldquo;Fond of indigestion,
+Carver?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think you&rsquo;ve ever been in Yorkshire, have you, Triffitt?&rdquo; asked
+Mr. Carver, settling himself comfortably. &ldquo;You haven&rsquo;t had that
+pleasure?&mdash;well, if you&rsquo;d ever gone to a football match on a Saturday
+afternoon in a Yorkshire factory district, you&rsquo;d have seen men selling
+muffin-and-ham sandwiches&mdash;fact! And I give you my word that if you want
+something to fill you up during the day, something to tide over the
+weary wait between breakfast and dinner, a fat muffin with a thick slice
+of ham is the best thing I know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want anything to fill me up,&rdquo; grunted Triffitt. &ldquo;I want
+something cheering&mdash;at present. I&rsquo;ve been listening with all my ears for
+something new in that blessed Herapath case all the morning, and, as you
+know, there&rsquo;s been nothing!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Think so?&rdquo; said Carver. &ldquo;Um&mdash;I should have said there was a good deal,
+now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing that I didn&rsquo;t know, anyway,&rdquo; remarked Triffitt. &ldquo;I got all that
+first thing; I was on the spot first.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg&nbsp;121]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, it was you, was it?&rdquo; said Carver, with professional indifference.
+&ldquo;Lucky man! So you&rsquo;ve only been hearing&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A repetition of what I&rsquo;d heard before,&rdquo; answered Triffitt. &ldquo;I knew all
+that evidence before I went into court. Caretaker&mdash;police&mdash;folks from
+Portman Square&mdash;doctor&mdash;all the lot! And I guess there&rsquo;ll be nothing
+this afternoon&mdash;the thing&rsquo;ll be adjourned.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, that&rsquo;s of course,&rdquo; assented Carver, attacking his muffin sandwich.
+&ldquo;There&rsquo;ll be more than one adjournment of this particular inquest,
+Triffitt. But aren&rsquo;t you struck by one or two points?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m struck by this,&rdquo; replied Triffitt. &ldquo;If what the police-surgeon
+says&mdash;and you noticed how positive he was about it&mdash;if what he says is
+true, that old Herapath was shot, and died, at, or just before
+(certainly not after, he positively asserted), twelve o&rsquo;clock midnight,
+it was not he who went to Portman Square!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That, of course, is obvious,&rdquo; said Carver. &ldquo;And it&rsquo;s just as obvious
+that whoever went to Portman Square returned from Portman Square to that
+office. Eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That hasn&rsquo;t quite struck me,&rdquo; replied Triffitt. &ldquo;How is it just as
+obvious?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg&nbsp;122]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Because whoever went to Portman Square went in old Herapath&rsquo;s
+fur-trimmed coat and his slouch hat, and the fur trimmed coat and slouch
+hat were found in the office,&rdquo; answered Carver. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s absolutely plain,
+that. I put it like this. The murderer, having settled his man, put on
+his victim&rsquo;s coat and hat, took his keys, went to Portman Square, did
+something there, went back to the office, left the coat and hat, and
+hooked it. That, my son, is a dead certainty. There&rsquo;s been little&mdash;if
+anything&mdash;made of all that before the Coroner, and it&rsquo;s my impression,
+Triffitt, that somebody&mdash;somebody official, mind you&mdash;is keeping
+something back. Now,&rdquo; continued Carver, dropping his voice to a
+confidential whisper, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m only doing a plain report of this affair for
+our organ of light and leading, but I&rsquo;ve read it up pretty well, and
+there are two things I want to know, and I&rsquo;ll tell you what, Triffitt,
+if you like to go in with me at finding them out&mdash;two can always work
+better than one&mdash;I&rsquo;m game!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What are the two things?&rdquo; asked Triffitt, cautiously. &ldquo;Perhaps I&rsquo;ve got
+&rsquo;em in mind also.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The first&rsquo;s this,&rdquo; replied Carver. &ldquo;Somebody&mdash;some taxi-cab driver or
+somebody of that sort&mdash;must have brought the man who personated old
+Jacob Herapath back to, or to the neighbourhood of, the office that
+morning. How is it that somebody hasn&rsquo;t been discovered? You made a
+point of asking for him in the <i>Argus</i>. Do you know what I think? I
+think he has been discovered, and he&rsquo;s being kept out of the way. That&rsquo;s
+point one.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good!&rdquo; muttered Triffitt. &ldquo;And point two?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Point two is&mdash;where is the man who came out of the House of Commons
+with Jacob Herapath that night, the man that the coachman Mountain
+described? In my opinion,&rdquo; asserted Carver, &ldquo;I believe that man&rsquo;s been
+found, too, and he&rsquo;s being kept back.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg&nbsp;123]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good again!&rdquo; said Triffitt. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s likely. Well, I&rsquo;ve a point. You
+heard the evidence about old Herapath&rsquo;s keys? Yes&mdash;well, where&rsquo;s the key
+of that safe that he rented at the Safe Deposit place. That young
+secretary, Selwood, swore that it was on the little bunch the day of the
+murder, that he saw it at three o&rsquo;clock in the afternoon. What did Jacob
+Herapath do with it between then and the time of the murder?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes&mdash;that&rsquo;s a great point,&rdquo; asserted Carver. &ldquo;We may hear something of
+that this afternoon&mdash;perhaps of all these points.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But when they went back to the densely crowded court it was only to find
+that they&mdash;and an expectant public&mdash;were going to hear nothing more for
+that time. As soon as the court re-assembled, there was some putting
+together of heads on the part of the legal gentlemen and the Coroner;
+there were whisperings and consultations and noddings and veiled hints,
+palpable enough to everybody with half an eye; then the Coroner
+announced that no further evidence would be taken that day, and
+adjourned the inquest for a fortnight. Such of the public as had
+contrived to squeeze into the court went out murmuring, and Triffitt and
+Carver went out too and exchanged meaning glances.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just what I expected!&rdquo; said Carver. &ldquo;I reckon the police are at the
+bottom of all that. A fortnight today we&rsquo;ll be hearing something
+good&mdash;something sensational.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want to wait until a fortnight today,&rdquo; growled Triffitt. &ldquo;I
+want some good, hot stuff&mdash;now!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg&nbsp;124]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then you&rsquo;ll have to find it for yourself, very soon,&rdquo; remarked Carver.
+&ldquo;Take my tip&mdash;you&rsquo;ll get nothing from the police.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt was well aware of that. He had talked to two or three police
+officials and detectives that morning, and had found them singularly
+elusive and uncommunicative. One of them was the police-inspector who
+had been called to the Herapath Estate Office on the discovery of the
+murder; another was the detective who had accompanied him. Since the
+murder Triffitt had kept in touch with these two, and had found them
+affable and ready to talk; now, however, they had suddenly curled up
+into a dry taciturnity, and there was nothing to be got out of them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tell you what it is,&rdquo; he said suddenly. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll have to go for the
+police!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How go for the police?&rdquo; asked Carver doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Throw out some careful hints that the police know more than they&rsquo;ll
+tell at present,&rdquo; answered Triffitt, importantly. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s what I shall
+do, anyhow&mdash;I&rsquo;ve got <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><i>carte blanche</i></span> on
+our rag, and I&rsquo;ll make the public ear itch and twitch by
+breakfast-time tomorrow morning! And after that, my boy, you and I&rsquo;ll
+put our heads together, as you suggest, and see if we can&rsquo;t do a bit
+of detective work of our own. See you tomorrow at the usual in Fleet
+Street.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then Triffitt went along to the <i>Argus</i> office, and spent the rest of
+the afternoon in writing up a breezy and brilliant column about the
+scene at the inquest, intended to preface the ordinary detailed report.
+He wound it up with an artfully concocted paragraph in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg&nbsp;125]</a></span>which he threw
+out many thinly veiled hints and innuendoes to the effect that the
+police were in possession of strange and sensational information and
+that ere long such a dramatic turn would be given to this Herapath
+Mystery that the whole town would seethe with excitement. He preened his
+feathers gaily over this accomplishment, and woke earlier than usual
+next morning on purpose to go out before breakfast and buy the <i>Argus</i>.
+But when he opened that enterprising journal he found that his column
+had been woefully cut down, and that the paragraph over which he had so
+exercised his brains was omitted altogether. Triffitt had small appetite
+for breakfast that morning, and he went early to the office and made
+haste to put himself in the way of the news editor, who grinned at sight
+of him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Look here, Master Triffitt,&rdquo; said the news editor, &ldquo;there&rsquo;s such a
+thing as being too smart&mdash;and too previous. I was a bit doubtful about
+your prognostications last night, and I rang up the C.I.D. about &rsquo;em.
+Don&rsquo;t do it again, my son!&mdash;you mean well, but the police know their job
+better than you do. If they want to keep quiet for a while in this
+matter, they&rsquo;ve good reasons for it. So&mdash;no more hints. See?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So they do know something?&rdquo; muttered Triffitt sourly. &ldquo;Then I was
+right, after all!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg&nbsp;126]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll be wrong, after all, if you stick your nose where it isn&rsquo;t
+wanted,&rdquo; said the news editor. &ldquo;Just chuck the inspired prophet game for
+a while, will you? Keep to mere facts; you&rsquo;ll be alarming the wrong
+people, if you don&rsquo;t. Off you go now! and do old Herapath&rsquo;s
+funeral&mdash;it&rsquo;s at noon, at Kensal Green. There&rsquo;ll be some of his fellow
+M.P.&rsquo;s there, and so on. Get their names&mdash;make a nice, respectable thing
+of it on conventional lines. And no fireworks! This thing&rsquo;s to lie low
+at present.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt went off to Kensal Green, scowling and cogitating. Of course
+the police knew something! But&mdash;what? What they knew would doubtless
+come out in time, but Triffitt had a strong desire to be beforehand with
+them. In spite of the douche of cold water which the news editor had
+just administered, Triffitt knew his <i>Argus</i>. If he could fathom the
+Herapath Mystery in such a fashion as to make a real great, smashing,
+all-absorbing feature of a sensational discovery, the <i>Argus</i> would
+throw police precaution and official entreaties to the first wind that
+swept down Fleet Street. No!&mdash;he, Triffitt, was not to be balked. He
+would do his duty&mdash;he would go and see Jacob Herapath buried, but he
+would also continue his attempt to find out how it was that that burial
+came to be. And as he turned into the cemetery and stared at its weird
+collection of Christian and pagan monuments he breathed a fervent prayer
+to the Goddesses of Chance and Fortune to give him what he called
+&ldquo;another look-in.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg&nbsp;127]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">the scottish verdict</p>
+
+<p>If Triffitt had only known it, the Goddesses of Chance and Fortune were
+already close at hand, hovering lovingly and benignly above the crown of
+his own Trilby hat. Triffitt, of course, did not see them, nor dream
+that they were near; he was too busily occupied in taking stock of the
+black-garmented men who paid the last tribute of respect (a conventional
+phrase which he felt obliged to use) to Jacob Herapath. These men were
+many in number; some of them were known to Triffitt, some were not. He
+knew Mr. Fox-Crawford, an Under-Secretary of State, who represented the
+Government; he knew Mr. Dayweather and Mr. Encilmore, and Mr. Camford
+and Mr. Wallburn; they were all well-known members of Parliament. Also,
+he knew Mr. Barthorpe Herapath, walking at the head of the procession of
+mourners. Very soon he had quite a lengthy list of names; some others,
+if necessary, he could get from Selwood, whom he recognized as the
+<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">cort&egrave;ge</span> passed him by.
+So for the time being he closed his note-book and
+drew back beneath the shade of a cypress-tree, respectfully watching. In
+the tail-end of the procession he knew nobody; it was made up, he
+guessed, of Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg&nbsp;128]</a></span>
+
+numerous clerks from the estate offices, and&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>But suddenly Triffitt saw a face in that procession. The owner of that
+face was not looking at Triffitt; he was staring quietly ahead, with the
+blank, grave demeanour which people affect when they go to funerals. And
+it was as well that he was not looking at Triffitt, for Triffitt, seeing
+that face, literally started and even jumped a little, feeling as if the
+earth beneath him suddenly quaked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gad!&rdquo; exclaimed Triffitt under his breath. &ldquo;It is! It can&rsquo;t be! Gad,
+but I&rsquo;m certain it is! Can&rsquo;t be mistaken&mdash;not likely I should ever
+forget him!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then he took off the Trilby hat, which he had resumed after the coffin
+had passed, and he rubbed his head as men do when they are exceedingly
+bewildered or puzzled. After which he unobtrusively followed the
+procession, hovered about its fringes around the grave until the last
+rites were over, and eventually edged himself up to Selwood as the
+gathering was dispersing. He quietly touched Selwood&rsquo;s sleeve.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Selwood!&rdquo; he whispered. &ldquo;Just a word. I know a lot of these
+gentlemen&mdash;the M.P.&rsquo;s and so on&mdash;but there are some I don&rsquo;t know. Will
+you oblige me, now?&mdash;I want to get a full list. Who are the two elderly
+gentlemen with Mr. Barthorpe Herapath&mdash;relatives, eh?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg&nbsp;129]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No&mdash;old personal friends,&rdquo; answered Selwood, good-naturedly turning
+aside with the little reporter. &ldquo;One is Mr. Tertius&mdash;Mr. J. C.
+Tertius&mdash;a very old friend of the late Mr. Herapath&rsquo;s; the other is Mr.
+Benjamin Halfpenny, the solicitor, also an old friend.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I know of his firm,&rdquo; said Triffitt, busily scribbling. &ldquo;Halfpenny
+and Farthing, of course&mdash;odd combination, isn&rsquo;t it? And that burly
+gentleman behind them, now&mdash;who&rsquo;s he?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s Professor Cox-Raythwaite, the famous scientist,&rdquo; answered
+Selwood. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s also an old friend. The gentleman he&rsquo;s speaking to is Sir
+Cornelius Debenham, chairman of the World Alliance Association, with
+which Mr. Herapath was connected, you know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know&mdash;I know,&rdquo; answered Triffitt, still busy. &ldquo;Those two behind him,
+now&mdash;middle-aged parties?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One&rsquo;s Mr. Frankton, the manager, and the other&rsquo;s Mr. Charlwood, the
+cashier, at the estate office,&rdquo; replied Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They&rsquo;ll go down in staff and employees,&rdquo; said Triffitt. &ldquo;Um&mdash;I&rsquo;ve got a
+good list. By the by, who&rsquo;s the gentleman across there&mdash;just going up to
+the grave&mdash;the gentleman who looks like an actor? Is he an actor?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That? Oh!&rdquo; answered Selwood. &ldquo;No&mdash;that&rsquo;s Mr. Frank Burchill, who used
+to be Mr. Herapath&rsquo;s secretary&mdash;my predecessor.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg&nbsp;130]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; responded Triffitt. He had caught sight of Carver a few yards off,
+and he hurried his notebook into his pocket, and bustled off. &ldquo;Much
+obliged to you, Mr. Selwood,&rdquo; he said with a grin. &ldquo;Even we with all our
+experience, don&rsquo;t know everybody, you know&mdash;many thanks.&rdquo; He hastened
+over to Carver who was also busy pencilling, and drew him away into the
+shelter of a particularly large and ugly monument. &ldquo;I say!&rdquo; he
+whispered. &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s something! Shove that book away now&mdash;I&rsquo;ve got all the
+names&mdash;and attend to me a minute. Don&rsquo;t look too obtrusively&mdash;but do you
+see that chap&mdash;looks like an actor&mdash;who is just coming away from the
+graveside&mdash;tall, well-dressed chap?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Carver looked across. His face lighted up.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know that man,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve seen him at the club&mdash;he&rsquo;s been in
+once or twice, though he&rsquo;s not a member. He does theatre stuff for the
+<i>Magnet</i>. His name&rsquo;s Burchill.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt dropped his friend&rsquo;s arm.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;So you know him&mdash;by sight, anyhow? And his name&rsquo;s
+Burchill, eh? Very good. Let&rsquo;s get.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He walked Carver out of the cemetery, down the Harrow Road, and turned
+into the saloon bar of the first tavern that presented itself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg&nbsp;131]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to have some ale and some bread and cheese,&rdquo; he observed,
+&ldquo;and if you&rsquo;ll follow suit, Carver, we&rsquo;ll sit in that corner, and I&rsquo;ll
+tell you something that&rsquo;ll make your hair curl. Two nice plates of bread
+and cheese, and two large tankards of your best bitter ale, if you
+please,&rdquo; he continued, approaching the bar and ringing a half-crown on
+it. &ldquo;Yes, Carver, my son&mdash;that will curl your hair for you. And,&rdquo; he
+went on, when they had carried their simple provender over to a quiet
+corner, &ldquo;about that chap now known as Burchill&mdash;Burchill.
+Mr.&mdash;Frank&mdash;Burchill; late secretary to the respected gentleman whose
+mortal remains have just been laid to rest. Ah!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the mystery?&rdquo; asked Carver, setting down his tankard. &ldquo;Seems to
+be one, anyway. What about Burchill?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Speak his name softly,&rdquo; answered Triffitt. &ldquo;Well, my son, I suddenly
+saw&mdash;him&mdash;this morning, and I just as suddenly remembered that I&rsquo;d seen
+him before!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You had, eh?&rdquo; said Carver. &ldquo;Where?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt sank his voice to a still lower whisper.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Where? In the dock!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Carver arrested the progress of a lump of bread and cheese and turned in
+astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In the dock?&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;That chap? Good heavens! When&mdash;where?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg&nbsp;132]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a longish story,&rdquo; answered Triffitt. &ldquo;But you&rsquo;ve got to hear it if
+we&rsquo;re going into this thing&mdash;as we are. Know, then, that I have an
+aunt&mdash;Eliza. My aunt&mdash;maternal aunt&mdash;Eliza is married to a highly
+respectable Scotsman named Kierley, who runs a flour-mill in the ancient
+town of Jedburgh, which is in the county of Roxburgh, just over the
+Border. And it&rsquo;s just about nine years (I can tell the exact date to a
+day if I look at an old diary) that Mr. and Mrs. Kierley were good
+enough to invite me to spend a few weeks in Bonnie Scotland. And the
+first night of my arrival Kierley told me that I was in luck, for
+within a day or two there was going to be a grand trial before the
+Lords Justiciar&mdash;<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Anglic&eacute;</span>, judges.
+A trial of a man for murder!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Great Scott!&rdquo; said Carver. &ldquo;Murder, eh? And&rdquo;&mdash;he nodded his head in the
+direction of the adjacent cemetery. &ldquo;Him?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let me explain a few legal matters,&rdquo; said Triffitt, disregarding the
+question. &ldquo;Then you&rsquo;ll get the proper hang of things. In Scotland, law&rsquo;s
+different in procedure to ours. The High Court of Justiciary is fixed
+permanently at Edinburgh, but its judges go on circuit so many times a
+year to some of the principal towns, where they hold something like our
+own assizes. Usually, only one judge sits, but in cases of special
+importance there are two, and two came to Jedburgh, this being a case of
+very special importance, and one that was arousing a mighty amount of
+interest. It was locally known as the Kelpies&rsquo; Glen Case, and by that
+name it got into all the papers&mdash;we could find it, of course, in our own
+files.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll turn it up,&rdquo; observed Carver.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg&nbsp;133]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By all means,&rdquo; agreed Triffitt; &ldquo;but I&rsquo;ll give you an outline of it
+just now. Briefly, it was this. About eleven years ago, there was near
+the town of Jedburgh a man named Ferguson, who kept an old-established
+school for boys. He was an oldish chap, married to a woman a good deal
+younger than himself, and she had a bit of a reputation for being
+overfond of the wine of the country. According to what the Kierleys told
+me, old Ferguson used to use the tawse on her sometimes, and they led a
+sort of cat-and-dog life. Well, about the time I&rsquo;m talking about,
+Ferguson got a new undermaster; he only kept one. This chap was an
+Englishman&mdash;name of Bentham&mdash;Francis Bentham, to give him his full
+patronymic, but I don&rsquo;t know where he came from&mdash;I don&rsquo;t think anybody
+did.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;F. B., eh?&rdquo; muttered Carver. &ldquo;Same initials as&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Precisely,&rdquo; said Triffitt, &ldquo;and&mdash;to anticipate&mdash;same man. But to
+proceed in due order. Old Ferguson died rather suddenly&mdash;but in quite an
+above-board and natural fashion, about six months after this Bentham
+came to him. The widow kept on the school, and retained Bentham&rsquo;s
+services. And within half a year of the demise of her first husband, she
+took Bentham for her second.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Quick work!&rdquo; remarked Carver.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And productive of much wagging of tongues, you may bet!&rdquo; said Triffitt.
+&ldquo;Many things were said&mdash;not all of them charitable. Well, this marriage
+didn&rsquo;t mend the lady&rsquo;s manners. She still continued, now and then, to
+take her drops in too generous measure. Rumour had it that the successor
+to Ferguson followed his predecessor&rsquo;s example and corrected his wife in
+the good, old-fashioned way. It was said that the old cat-and-dog life
+was started again by these two. However, before they&rsquo;d been married a
+year, the lady ended that episode by quitting life for good. She was
+found one night lying at the foot of the cliff in the Kelpies&rsquo;
+Glen&mdash;with a broken neck.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Carver. &ldquo;I begin to see.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg&nbsp;134]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, that Kelpies&rsquo; Glen,&rdquo; continued Triffitt, &ldquo;was a sort of ravine
+which lay between the town of Jedburgh and the school. It was traversed
+by a rough path which lay along the top of one side of it, amongst trees
+and crags. At one point, this path was on the very edge of a precipitous
+cliff; from that edge there was a sheer drop of some seventy or eighty
+feet to a bed of rocks down below, on the edge of a brawling stream. It
+was on these rocks that Mrs. Bentham&rsquo;s body was found. She was dead
+enough when she was discovered, and the theory was that she had come
+along the path above in a drunken condition, had fallen over the low
+railings which fenced it in, and so had come to her death.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Precisely,&rdquo; assented Carver, nodding his head with wise appreciation.
+&ldquo;Her alcoholic tendencies were certainly useful factors in the case.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just so&mdash;you take my meaning,&rdquo; agreed Triffitt. &ldquo;Well, at first nobody
+saw any reason to doubt this theory, for the lady had been seen
+staggering along that path more than once. But she had a brother, a
+canny Scot who was not over well pleased when he found that his
+sister&mdash;who had come into everything that old Ferguson left, which was a
+comfortable bit&mdash;had made a will not very long before her death in which
+she left absolutely everything to her new husband, Francis Bentham. The
+brother began to inquire and to investigate&mdash;and to cut the story short,
+within a fortnight of his wife&rsquo;s death, Bentham was arrested and charged
+with her murder.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On what evidence?&rdquo; asked Carver.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg&nbsp;135]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Precious little!&rdquo; answered Triffitt. &ldquo;Indeed next to none. Still,
+there was some. It was proved that he was absent from the house for half
+an hour or so about the time that she would be coming along that path;
+it was also proved that certain footprints in the clay of the path were
+his. He contended that he had been to look for her; he proved that he
+had often been to look for her in that way; moreover, as to the
+footprints, he, like everybody in the house, constantly used that path
+in going to the town.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Aye, to be sure,&rdquo; said Carver. &ldquo;He&rsquo;d a good case, I&rsquo;m thinking.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He had&mdash;and so I thought at the time,&rdquo; continued Triffitt. &ldquo;And so a
+good many folks thought&mdash;and they, and I, also thought something else, I
+can tell you. I know what the verdict of the crowded court would have
+been!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What?&rdquo; asked Carver.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Guilty!&rdquo; exclaimed Triffitt. &ldquo;And so far as I&rsquo;m concerned, I haven&rsquo;t a
+doubt that the fellow pushed her over the cliff. But opinion&rsquo;s neither
+here nor there. The only thing that mattered, my son, was the jury&rsquo;s
+verdict!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And the jury&rsquo;s verdict was&mdash;what?&rdquo; demanded Carver.</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt winked into his empty tankard and set it down with a bang.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The jury&rsquo;s verdict, my boy,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;was one that you can only
+get across the Border. It was &lsquo;<i>Not Proven</i>&rsquo;!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg&nbsp;136]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">young brains</p>
+
+<p>Carver, who had been listening intently to the memory of a bygone event,
+pushed away the remains of his frugal lunch, and shook his head as he
+drew out a cigarette-case.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By gad, Triff, old man!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;If I&rsquo;d been that chap I&rsquo;d rather
+have been hanged, I think. Not proven, eh?&mdash;whew! That meant&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg&nbsp;137]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pretty much what the folk in court and the mob outside thought,&rdquo;
+asserted Triffitt. &ldquo;That scene outside, after the trial, is one of my
+liveliest recollections. There was a big crowd there&mdash;chiefly women.
+When they heard the verdict there was such yelling and hooting as you
+never heard in your life! You see, they were all certain about the
+fellow&rsquo;s guilt, and they wanted him to swing. If they could have got at
+him, they&rsquo;d have lynched him. And do you know, he actually had the cheek
+to leave the court by the front entrance, and show himself to that
+crowd! Then there was a lively scene&mdash;stones and brickbats and the mud
+of the street began flying. Then the police waded in&mdash;and they gave Mr.
+Francis Bentham pretty clearly to understand that there must be no going
+home for him, or the folks would pull his roof over his head. And they
+forced him back into the court, and got him away out of the town on the
+quiet&mdash;and I reckon he&rsquo;s never shown his face in that quarter of the
+globe since.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That will?&rdquo; asked Carver. &ldquo;Did it stand good&mdash;did he get the woman&rsquo;s
+money?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He did. My aunt told me afterwards that he employed some local
+solicitor chap&mdash;writers, as they call &rsquo;em there&mdash;to wind everything up,
+convert everything into cash, for him. Oh, yes!&rdquo; concluded Triffitt. &ldquo;He
+got the estate, right enough. Not an awful lot, you know&mdash;a thousand or
+two&mdash;perhaps three&mdash;but enough to go adventuring with elsewhere.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re sure this is the man?&rdquo; asked Carver.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;As certain as that I&rsquo;m myself!&rdquo; answered Triffitt. &ldquo;Couldn&rsquo;t mistake
+him&mdash;even if it is nine years ago. It&rsquo;s true I was only a nipper
+then&mdash;sixteen or so&mdash;but I&rsquo;d all my wits about me, and I was so taken
+with him in the dock, and with his theatrical bearing there&mdash;he&rsquo;s a fine
+hand at posing&mdash;that I couldn&rsquo;t forget or mistake him. Oh, he&rsquo;s the man!
+I&rsquo;ve often wondered what had become of him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And now you find out that he&rsquo;s up till recently been secretary to Jacob
+Herapath, M.P., and is just now doing dramatic criticism for the
+<i>Magnet</i>,&rdquo; observed Carver. &ldquo;Well, Triffitt, what do you make of it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt, who had filled and lighted an old briarwood pipe, puffed
+solemnly and thoughtfully for a while.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg&nbsp;138]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;nobody can deny that there&rsquo;s a deep mystery about
+Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s death. And knowing what I do about this Bentham or
+Burchill, and that he&rsquo;s recently been secretary to Jacob Herapath, I&rsquo;d
+just like to know a lot more. And&mdash;I mean to!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Got any plan of campaign?&rdquo; asked Carver.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have!&rdquo; affirmed Triffitt with sublime confidence. &ldquo;And it&rsquo;s this&mdash;I&rsquo;m
+going to dog this thing out until I can go to our boss and tell him that
+I can force the hands of the police! For the police are keeping
+something dark, my son, and I mean to find out what it is. I got a
+quencher this morning from our news editor, but it&rsquo;ll be the last. When
+I go back to the office to write out this stuff, I&rsquo;m going to have that
+extremely rare thing with any of our lot&mdash;an interview with the old
+man.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gad!&mdash;I thought your old man was unapproachable!&rdquo; exclaimed Carver.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To all intents and purposes, he is,&rdquo; assented Triffitt. &ldquo;But I&rsquo;ll see
+him&mdash;and today. And after that&mdash;but you&rsquo;ll see. Now, as to you, old man.
+You&rsquo;re coming in with me at this, of course&mdash;not on behalf of your
+paper, but on your own. Work up with me, and if we&rsquo;re successful, I&rsquo;ll
+promise you a post on the <i>Argus</i> that&rsquo;ll be worth three times what
+you&rsquo;re getting now. I know what I&rsquo;m talking about&mdash;unapproachable as our
+guv&rsquo;nor is, I&rsquo;ve sized him up, and if I make good in this affair, he&rsquo;ll
+do anything I want. Stick to Triffitt, my son, and Triffitt&rsquo;ll see you
+all serene!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Right-oh!&rdquo; said Carver. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m on. Well, and what am I to do, first?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg&nbsp;139]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Two things,&rdquo; responded Triffitt. &ldquo;One of &rsquo;em&rsquo;s easy, and can be done
+at once. Get me&mdash;diplomatically&mdash;this man Burchill&rsquo;s, or Bentham&rsquo;s,
+present address. You know some <i>Magnet</i> chaps&mdash;get it out of them. Tell
+&rsquo;em you want to ask Burchill&rsquo;s advice about some dramatic stuff&mdash;say
+you&rsquo;ve written a play and you&rsquo;re so impressed by his criticisms that
+you&rsquo;d like to take his counsel.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can do that,&rdquo; replied Carver. &ldquo;As a matter of fact, I&rsquo;ve got a real
+good farce in my desk. And the next?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The next is&mdash;try to find out if there&rsquo;s any taxi-cab driver around the
+Portman Square district who took a fare resembling old Herapath from
+anywhere about there to Kensington on the night of the murder,&rdquo; said
+Triffitt. &ldquo;There must be some chap who drove that man, and if we&rsquo;ve got
+any brains about us we can find him. If we find him, and can get him to
+talk&mdash;well, we shall know something.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;ll mean money,&rdquo; observed Carver.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never mind,&rdquo; said Triffitt, confident as ever. &ldquo;If it comes off all
+right with our boss, you needn&rsquo;t bother about money, my son! Now let&rsquo;s
+be going Fleet Street way, and I&rsquo;ll meet you tonight at the usual&mdash;say
+six o&rsquo;clock.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Arrived at the <i>Argus</i> office and duly seated at his own particular
+table, Triffitt, instead of proceeding to write out his report of the
+funeral ceremony of the late Jacob Herapath, M.P., wrote a note to his
+proprietor, which note he carefully sealed and marked &ldquo;Private.&rdquo; He
+carried this off to the great man&rsquo;s <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg&nbsp;140]</a></span>confidential secretary, who stared
+at it and him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I suppose this really is of a private nature?&rdquo; he asked suspiciously.
+&ldquo;You know as well as I do that Mr. Markledew&rsquo;ll make me suffer if it
+isn&rsquo;t.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Soul and honour, it&rsquo;s of the most private!&rdquo; affirmed Triffitt, laying a
+hand on his heart. &ldquo;And of the highest importance, too, and I&rsquo;ll be
+eternally grateful if you&rsquo;ll put it before him as soon as you can.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The confidential secretary took another look at Triffitt, and allowed
+himself to be reluctantly convinced of his earnestness.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll shove it under his nose when he comes in at
+four o&rsquo;clock.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt went back to his work, excited, yet elated. It was no easy job
+to get speech of Markledew. Markledew, as everybody in Fleet Street
+knew, was a man in ten thousand. He was not only sole proprietor of his
+paper, but its editor and manager, and he ruled his office and his
+employees with a rod of iron&mdash;chiefly by silence. It was usually said of
+him that he never spoke to anybody unless he was absolutely obliged to
+do so&mdash;certain it was that all his orders to the various heads were
+given out pretty much after the fashion of a drill sergeant&rsquo;s commands
+to a squad of well-trained, five-month recruits, and that monosyllables
+were much more in his mouth than even brief admonitions and
+explanations. If anybody ever did manage to approach Markledew, it was
+always with fear and trembling. A big, heavy, lumbering man, with a face
+that might have been <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg&nbsp;141]</a></span>carved out of granite, eyes that bored through an
+opposing brain, and a constant expression of absolute, yet watchful
+immobility, he was a trying person to tackle, and most men, when they
+did tackle him, felt as if they might be talking to the Sphinx and
+wondered if the tightly-locked lips were ever going to open. But all men
+who ever had anything to do with Markledew were well aware that,
+difficult as he was of access, you had only got to approach him with
+something good to be rewarded for your pains in full measure.</p>
+
+<p>At ten minutes past four Triffitt, who had just finished his work,
+lifted his head to see a messenger-boy fling open the door of the
+reporter&rsquo;s room and cast his eyes round. A shiver shot through
+Triffitt&rsquo;s spine and went out of his toes with a final sting.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Markledew wants Mr. Triffitt!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Two or three other junior reporters who were scribbling in the room
+glanced at Triffitt as he leapt to obey the summons. They hastened to
+make kindly comments on this unheard-of episode in the day&rsquo;s dull
+routine.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pale as a fair young bride!&rdquo; sighed one. &ldquo;Buck up, Triff!&mdash;he won&rsquo;t eat
+you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I hear your knees knocking together, Triff,&rdquo; said another. &ldquo;Brace
+yourself!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Markledew,&rdquo; observed a third, &ldquo;has decided to lay down the sceptre and
+to instal Triff in the chair of rule. Ave, Triffitt, Imperator!&mdash;be
+merciful to the rest of us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt consigned them to the nether regions and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg&nbsp;142]</a></span>hurried to the
+presence. The presence was busied with its secretary and kept Triffitt
+standing for two minutes, during which space he recovered his breath.
+Then the presence waved away secretary and papers with one hand, turned
+its awful eyes upon him, and rapped out one word:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt breathed a fervent prayer to all his gods, summoned his
+resolution and his powers, and spoke. He endeavoured to use as few words
+as possible, to be lucid, to make his points, to show what he was
+after&mdash;and, driving fear away from him, he kept his own eyes steadily
+fixed on those penetrating organs which confronted him. And once, twice,
+he saw or thought he saw a light gleam of appreciation in those organs;
+once, he believed, the big head nodded as if in agreement. Anyhow, at
+the end of a quarter of an hour (unheard-of length for an interview with
+Markledew!) Triffitt had neither been turned out nor summarily silenced;
+instead, he had come to what he felt to be a good ending of his pleas
+and his arguments, and the great man was showing signs of speech.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, attend!&rdquo; said Markledew, impressively. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll go on with this.
+You&rsquo;ll follow it up on the lines you suggest. But you&rsquo;ll print nothing
+except under my personal supervision. Make certain of your facts.
+Facts!&mdash;understand! Wait.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He pulled a couple of slips of paper towards him, scribbled a line or
+two on each, handed them to Triffitt, and nodded at the door.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg&nbsp;143]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;ll do,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;When you want me, let me know. And mind&mdash;you&rsquo;ve
+got a fine chance, young man.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt could have fallen on the carpet and kissed Markledew&rsquo;s large
+boots. But knowing Markledew, he expressed his gratitude in two words
+and a bow, and sped out of the room. Once outside, he hastened to send
+the all-powerful notes. They were short and sharp, like Markledew&rsquo;s
+manner, but to Triffitt of an inexpressible sweetness, and he walked on
+air as he went off to other regions to present them.</p>
+
+<p>The news editor, who was by nature irascible and whom much daily worry
+had rendered more so, glared angrily as Triffitt marched up to his
+table. He pointed to a slip of proof which lay, damp and sticky, close
+by.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;ve given too much space to that Herapath funeral,&rdquo; he growled.
+&ldquo;Take it away and cut it down to three-quarters.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt made no verbal answer. He flung Markledew&rsquo;s half-sheet of
+notepaper before the news editor, and the news editor, seeing the great
+man&rsquo;s sprawling caligraphy, read, wonderingly:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>&ldquo;Mr. Triffitt is released from ordinary duties to pursue others
+under my personal supervision. J. M.&rdquo;</p></div>
+
+<p>The news editor stared at Triffitt as if that young gentleman had
+suddenly become an archangel.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s this mean?&rdquo; he demanded.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg&nbsp;144]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Obvious&mdash;and sufficient,&rdquo; retorted Triffitt. And he turned, hands in
+pockets, and strolled out, leaving the proof lying unheeded. That was
+the first time he had scored off his news editor, and the experience was
+honey-like and intoxicating. His head was higher than ever as he sought
+the cashier and handed Markledew&rsquo;s other note to him. The cashier read
+it over mechanically.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>&ldquo;Mr. Triffitt is to draw what money he needs for a special
+purpose. He will account to me for it. J. M.&rdquo;</p></div>
+
+<p>The cashier calmly laid the order aside and looked at its deliverer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Want any now?&rdquo; he asked apathetically. &ldquo;How much?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not at present,&rdquo; replied Triffitt. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll let you know when I do.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then he went away, got his overcoat, made a derisive and sphinx-like
+grin at his fellow-reporters, and left the office to find Carver.</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg&nbsp;145]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">nameless fear</p>
+
+<p>If Triffitt had stayed in Kensal Green Cemetery a little longer, he
+would have observed that Mr. Frank Burchill&rsquo;s presence at the funeral
+obsequies of the late Jacob Herapath was of an eminently modest,
+unassuming, and retiring character. He might, as an ex-secretary of the
+dead man, have claimed to walk abreast of Mr. Selwood, and ahead of the
+manager and cashier from the estate office; instead, he had taken a
+place in the rear ranks of the procession, and in it he remained until
+the close of the ceremony. Like the rest of those present, he defiled
+past the grave at which the chief mourners were standing, but he claimed
+no recognition from and gave no apparent heed to any of them; certainly
+none to Barthorpe Herapath. Also, like all the rest, he went away at
+once from the cemetery, and after him, quietly and unobtrusively, went a
+certain sharp-eyed person who had also been present, not as a mourner,
+but in the character of a casual stroller about the tombs and monuments,
+attracted for the moment by the imposing <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">cort&egrave;ge</span>
+which had followed the dead man to his grave.</p>
+
+<p>Another sharp-eyed person made it his business to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg&nbsp;146]</a></span>follow Barthorpe
+Herapath when he, too, went away. Barthorpe had come to the ceremony
+unattended. Selwood, Mr. Tertius, Professor Cox-Raythwaite, and Mr.
+Halfpenny had come together. These four also went away together.
+Barthorpe, still alone, re-entered his carriage when they had driven
+off. The observant person of the sharp eyes, hanging around the gates,
+heard him give his order:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Portman Square!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The four men who had preceded him were standing in the study when
+Barthorpe drove up to the house&mdash;standing around Peggie, who was
+obviously ill at ease and distressed. And when Barthorpe&rsquo;s voice was
+heard in the hall, Mr. Halfpenny spoke in decisive tones.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We must understand matters at once,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;There is no use in
+beating about the bush. He has refused to meet or receive me so far&mdash;now
+I shall insist upon his saying plainly whatever he has to say. You, too,
+my dear, painful as it may be, must also insist.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On&mdash;what?&rdquo; asked Peggie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On his saying what he intends&mdash;if he intends&mdash;I don&rsquo;t know what he
+intends!&rdquo; answered Mr. Halfpenny, testily. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s most annoying, and we
+can&rsquo;t&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe came striding in, paused as he glanced around, and affected
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I came to see you, Peggie&mdash;I did not know that there was
+any meeting in progress.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg&nbsp;147]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Barthorpe!&rdquo; said Peggie, looking earnestly at him. &ldquo;You know that all
+these gentlemen were Uncle Jacob&rsquo;s friends&mdash;dear friends&mdash;and they are
+mine. Don&rsquo;t go away&mdash;Mr. Halfpenny wants to speak to you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe had already half turned to the door. He turned back&mdash;then
+turned again.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Halfpenny can only want to speak to me on business,&rdquo; he said,
+coldly. &ldquo;If Mr. Halfpenny wants to speak to me on business, he knows
+where to find me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He had already laid a hand on the door when Mr. Halfpenny spoke sharply
+and sternly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Barthorpe Herapath!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I know very well where to find you,
+and I have tried to find you and to get speech with you for two days&mdash;in
+vain. I insist, sir, that you speak to us&mdash;or at any rate to your
+cousin&mdash;you are bound to speak, sir, out of common decency!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;About what?&rdquo; asked Barthorpe. &ldquo;I came to speak to my cousin&mdash;in
+private.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There is a certain something, sir,&rdquo; retorted Mr. Halfpenny, with
+warmth, &ldquo;about which we must speak in public&mdash;such a public, at any
+rate, as is represented here and now. You know what it is&mdash;your uncle&rsquo;s
+will!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What about my uncle&rsquo;s will&mdash;or alleged will?&rdquo; asked Barthorpe with a
+sneer.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny appeared to be about to make a very angry retort, but he
+suddenly checked himself and looked at Peggie.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg&nbsp;148]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You hear, my dear?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;He says&mdash;alleged will!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peggie turned to Barthorpe with an appealing glance.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Barthorpe!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;Is that fair&mdash;is it generous? Is it
+just&mdash;to our uncle&rsquo;s memory? You know that is his will&mdash;what doubt can
+there be about it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe made no answer. He still stood with one hand on the door,
+looking at Mr. Halfpenny. And suddenly he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What do you wish to ask me?&rdquo; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I wish to ask you a plain question,&rdquo; replied Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;Do you
+accept this will, and are you going to act on your cousin&rsquo;s behalf? I
+want your plain answer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe hesitated a moment before replying. Then he made as if to open
+the door.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I decline to discuss the matter of the alleged will,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I
+decline&mdash;especially,&rdquo; he continued, lifting a finger and pointing at Mr.
+Tertius, &ldquo;especially in the presence of that man!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Barthorpe!&rdquo; exclaimed Peggie, flushing at the malevolence of the tone
+and gesture. &ldquo;How dare you! In my house&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe suddenly laughed. Once again he turned to the door&mdash;and this
+time he opened it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just so&mdash;just so!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Your house, my dear cousin&mdash;according to
+the alleged will.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg&nbsp;149]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Which will be proved, sir,&rdquo; snapped out Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;As you refuse,
+or seem to do so, I shall act for your cousin&mdash;at once.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe opened the door wide, and as he crossed the threshold, turned
+and gave Mr. Halfpenny a swift glance.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Act!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Act!&mdash;if you can!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then he walked out and shut the door behind him, and Mr. Halfpenny
+turned to the others.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The will must be proved at once,&rdquo; he said decisively. &ldquo;Alleged&mdash;you all
+heard him say alleged! That looks as if&mdash;um! My dear Tertius, you have
+no doubt whatever about the proper and valid execution of this important
+document&mdash;now in my safe. None?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How can I have any doubt about what I actually saw?&rdquo; replied Mr.
+Tertius. &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t have any doubt, Halfpenny! I saw Jacob sign it; I
+signed it myself; I saw young Burchill sign it; we all three saw each
+other sign. What more can one want?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I must see this Mr. Burchill,&rdquo; remarked Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;I must see him
+at once. Unfortunately, he left no address at the place we called at. He
+will have to be discovered.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peggie coloured slightly as she turned to Mr. Halfpenny.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is it really necessary to see Mr. Burchill personally?&rdquo; she asked with
+a palpable nervousness which struck Selwood strangely. &ldquo;Must he be
+found?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Absolutely necessary, my dear,&rdquo; replied Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;He must be
+found, and at once.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg&nbsp;150]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius uttered an exclamation of annoyance.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dear, dear!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I noticed the young man at the cemetery just
+now&mdash;I ought really to have pointed him out to you&mdash;most forgetful of
+me!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have Mr. Burchill&rsquo;s address,&rdquo; said Peggie, with an effort. &ldquo;He left
+his card here on the day of my uncle&rsquo;s death&mdash;the address is on it. And
+I put it in this drawer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood watched Peggie curiously, and with a strange, vague sense of
+uneasiness as she went over to a drawer in Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s desk and
+produced the card. He had noticed a slight tremor in her voice when she
+spoke of Burchill, and her face, up till then very pale, had coloured at
+the first mention of his name. And now he was asking himself why any
+reference to this man seemed to disturb her, why&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>But Mr. Halfpenny cut in on his meditations. The old lawyer held up the
+card to the light and slowly read out the address.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah! Calengrove Mansions, Maida Vale,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Um&mdash;quarter of an
+hour&rsquo;s drive. Tertius&mdash;you and I will go and see this young fellow at
+once.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius turned to Professor Cox-Raythwaite.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What do you think of this, Cox-Raythwaite?&rdquo; he asked, almost piteously.
+&ldquo;I mean&mdash;what do you think&rsquo;s best to be done?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Professor, who had stood apart with Selwood during the episode which
+had just concluded, pulling his great beard and looking very big and
+black and formidable, jerked his thumb in the direction of the old
+lawyer.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg&nbsp;151]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do what Halfpenny says,&rdquo; he growled. &ldquo;See this other witness. And&mdash;but
+here, I&rsquo;ll have a word with you in the hall.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He said good-bye in a gruffly affectionate way to Peggie, patted her
+shoulder and her head as if she were a child, and followed the two other
+men out. Peggie, left alone with Selwood, turned to him. There was
+something half-appealing in her face, and Selwood suddenly drove his
+hands deep into his pockets, clenched them there, and put a tight hold
+on himself.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s all different!&rdquo; exclaimed Peggie, dropping into a chair and
+clasping her hands on her knees. &ldquo;All so different! And I feel so
+utterly helpless.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Scarcely that,&rdquo; said Selwood, with an effort to speak calmly. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve
+got Mr. Tertius, and Mr. Halfpenny, and the Professor, and&mdash;and if
+there&rsquo;s anything&mdash;anything I can do, don&rsquo;t you know, why, I&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peggie impulsively stretched out a hand&mdash;and Selwood, not trusting
+himself, affected not to see it. To take Peggie&rsquo;s hand at that moment
+would have been to let loose a flood of words which he was resolved not
+to utter just then, if ever. He moved across to the desk and pretended
+to sort and arrange some loose papers.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll&mdash;all&mdash;all&mdash;do everything we can,&rdquo; he said, trying to keep any
+tremor out of his voice. &ldquo;Everything you know, of course.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know&mdash;and I&rsquo;m grateful,&rdquo; said Peggie. &ldquo;But I&rsquo;m frightened.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg&nbsp;152]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Selwood turned quickly and looked sharply at her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Frightened?&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;Of what?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of something that I can&rsquo;t account for or realize,&rdquo; she replied. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve a
+feeling that everything&rsquo;s all wrong&mdash;and strange. And&mdash;I&rsquo;m frightened of
+Mr. Burchill.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What!&rdquo; snapped Selwood. He dropped the papers and turned to face her
+squarely. &ldquo;Frightened of&mdash;Burchill? Why?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&mdash;don&rsquo;t&mdash;know,&rdquo; she answered, shaking her head. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s more an
+idea&mdash;something vague. I was always afraid of him when he was here&mdash;I&rsquo;ve
+been afraid of him ever since. I was very much afraid when he came here
+the other day.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You saw him?&rdquo; asked Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t see him. He merely sent up that card. But,&rdquo; she added, &ldquo;I was
+afraid even then.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood leaned back against the desk, regarding her attentively.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think you&rsquo;re the sort to be afraid without reason,&rdquo; he said.
+&ldquo;Of course, if you have reason, I&rsquo;ve no right to ask what it is. All the
+same, if this chap is likely to annoy you, you&rsquo;ve only to speak
+and&mdash;and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes?&rdquo; she said, smiling a little. &ldquo;You&rsquo;d&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll punch his head and break his neck for him!&rdquo; growled Selwood.
+&ldquo;And&mdash;and I wish you&rsquo;d say if you have reasons why I should. Has&mdash;has he
+annoyed you?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg&nbsp;153]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered Peggie. She regarded Selwood steadily for a minute; then
+she spoke with sudden impulse. &ldquo;When he was here,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I mean
+before he left my uncle, he asked me to marry him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood, in spite of himself, could not keep a hot flush from mounting
+to his cheek.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And&mdash;you?&rdquo; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I said no, of course, and he took my answer and went quietly away,&rdquo;
+replied Peggie. &ldquo;And that&mdash;that&rsquo;s why I&rsquo;m frightened of him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good heavens! Why?&rdquo; demanded Selwood. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t understand. Frightened
+of him because he took his answer, went away quietly, and hasn&rsquo;t annoyed
+you since? That&mdash;I say, that licks me!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;But, you see, you don&rsquo;t know him. It&rsquo;s just
+because of that&mdash;that quiet&mdash;that&mdash;oh, I don&rsquo;t quite know how to
+explain!&mdash;that&mdash;well, silence&mdash;that I&rsquo;m afraid&mdash;yes, literally afraid.
+There&rsquo;s something about him that makes me fear. I used to wish that my
+uncle had never employed him&mdash;that he had never come here. And&mdash;I&rsquo;d
+rather be penniless than that my uncle had ever got him&mdash;him!&mdash;to
+witness that will!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood found no words wherewith to answer this. He did not understand
+it. Nevertheless he presently found words of another sort.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right!&rdquo; he muttered doggedly. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll watch him&mdash;or, I&rsquo;ll watch that
+he&mdash;that&mdash;well, that no harm comes to&mdash;you know what I mean, don&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; murmured Peggie, and once more held out an impulsive hand. But
+Selwood again pretended to see nothing, and he began another energetic
+assault upon the papers which Jacob Herapath would never handle again.</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg&nbsp;154]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">the law</p>
+
+<p>Once within a taxi-cab and on their way to Maida Vale, Mr. Halfpenny
+turned to his companion with a shake of the head which implied a much
+mixed state of feeling.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tertius!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s something wrong! Quite apart from what
+we know, and from what we were able to communicate to the police,
+there&rsquo;s something wrong. I feel it&mdash;it&rsquo;s in the air, the&mdash;the whole
+atmosphere. That fellow Barthorpe is up to some game. What? Did you
+notice his manner, his attitude&mdash;everything? Of course!&mdash;who could help
+it? He&mdash;has some scheme in his head. Again I say&mdash;what?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius stirred uneasily in his seat and shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You haven&rsquo;t heard anything from New Scotland Yard?&rdquo; he asked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg&nbsp;155]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing&mdash;so far. But they are at work, of course. They&rsquo;ll work in their
+own way. And,&rdquo; continued Mr. Halfpenny, with a grim chuckle, &ldquo;you can be
+certain of this much, Tertius&mdash;having heard what we were able to tell
+them, having seen what we were able to put before them, with respect to
+the doings of that eventful night, they won&rsquo;t let Master Barthorpe out
+of their ken&mdash;not they! It is best to let them pursue their own
+investigations in their own manner&mdash;they&rsquo;ll let us know what&rsquo;s been
+done, sure enough, at the right time.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; assented Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;Yes&mdash;so I gather&mdash;I am not very conversant
+with these things. I confess there&rsquo;s one thing that puzzles me greatly
+though, Halfpenny. That&rsquo;s the matter of the man who came out of the
+House of Commons with Jacob that night. You remember that the coachman,
+Mountain, told us&mdash;and said at the inquest also&mdash;that he overheard what
+Jacob said to that man&mdash;&lsquo;The thing must be done at once, and you must
+have everything ready for me at noon tomorrow,&rsquo; or words to that effect.
+Now that man must be somewhere at hand&mdash;he must have read the
+newspapers, know all about the inquest&mdash;why doesn&rsquo;t he come forward?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny chuckled again and patted his friend&rsquo;s arm.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;But you don&rsquo;t know that he hasn&rsquo;t come forward! The
+probability is, Tertius, that he has come forward, and that the people
+at New Scotland Yard are already in possession of whatever story he had
+to tell. Oh, yes, I quite expect that&mdash;I also expect to hear,
+eventually, another piece of news in relation to that man.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s that?&rdquo; asked Mr. Tertius.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg&nbsp;156]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you remember that, at the inquest, Mountain, the coachman, said that
+there was another bit of evidence he had to give which he&rsquo;d forgotten to
+tell Mr. Barthorpe when he questioned him? Mountain&rdquo;&mdash;continued Mr.
+Halfpenny&mdash;&ldquo;went on to say that while Jacob Herapath and the man stood
+talking in Palace Yard, before Jacob got into his brougham, Jacob took
+some object from his waistcoat pocket and handed it, with what looked
+like a letter, to the man? Eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I remember very well,&rdquo; replied Mr. Tertius.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very good,&rdquo; said Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;Now I believe that object to have been
+the key of Jacob&rsquo;s safe at the Safe Deposit, which, you remember, could
+not be found, but which young Selwood affirmed had been in Jacob&rsquo;s
+possession only that afternoon. The letter I believe to have been a
+formal authority to the Safe Deposit people to allow the bearer to open
+that safe. I&rsquo;ve thought all that out,&rdquo; concluded Mr. Halfpenny, with a
+smile of triumph, &ldquo;thought it out carefully, and it&rsquo;s my impression that
+that&rsquo;s what we shall find when the police move. I believe that man has
+revealed himself to the police, has told them&mdash;whatever it is he has to
+tell, and that his story probably throws a vast flood of light on the
+mystery. So I say&mdash;let us not at present concern ourselves with the
+actual murder of our poor friend: the police will ferret that out! What
+we&rsquo;re concerned with is&mdash;the will! That will, Tertius, must be proved,
+and at once.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am as little conversant with legal matters as with police procedure,&rdquo;
+observed Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;What is the exact course, now, in a case of this
+sort?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg&nbsp;157]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The exact procedure, my dear sir,&rdquo; replied Mr. Halfpenny, dropping into
+his best legal manner, and putting the tips of his warmly-gloved
+fingers together in front of his well-filled overcoat, &ldquo;the exact
+procedure is as follows. Barthorpe Herapath is without doubt the
+heir-at-law of his deceased uncle, Jacob Herapath. If Jacob had died
+intestate Barthorpe would have taken what we may call everything, for
+his uncle&rsquo;s property is practically all in the shape of real estate, in
+comparison to which the personalty is a mere nothing. But there is a
+will, leaving everything to Margaret Wynne. If Barthorpe Herapath
+intends to contest the legality of that will&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good heavens, is that possible?&rdquo; exclaimed Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;He can&rsquo;t!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He can&mdash;if he wishes,&rdquo; replied Mr. Halfpenny, &ldquo;though at present I
+don&rsquo;t know on what possible grounds. But, if he does, he can at once
+enter a caveat in the Probate Registry. The effect of that&mdash;supposing he
+does it&mdash;will be that when I take the will to be proved, progress will
+be stopped. Very well&mdash;I shall then, following the ordinary practice,
+issue and serve upon Barthorpe Herapath a document technically known as
+a &lsquo;warning.&rsquo; On service of this warning, Barthorpe, if he insists upon
+his opposition, must enter an appearance. There will then be an
+opportunity for debate and attempt at agreement between him and
+ourselves. If that fails, or does not take place, I shall then issue a
+writ to establish the will. And that being done, why, then, my dear sir,
+the proceedings&mdash;ah, the proceedings would
+follow&mdash;substantially&mdash;the&mdash;er&mdash;usual course of litigation in this
+country.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg&nbsp;158]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And that,&rdquo; asked Mr. Tertius, deeply interested and wholly innocent,
+&ldquo;that would be&mdash;&mdash;?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, there are two parties in this case&mdash;supposed case,&rdquo; continued Mr.
+Halfpenny, &ldquo;Barthorpe Herapath, Margaret Wynne. After the issue of the
+writ I have just spoken of, each party would put in his or her pleas,
+and the matter would ultimately go to trial in the Probate Division of
+the High Court, most likely before a judge and a special jury.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And how long would all this take?&rdquo; asked Mr. Tertius.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah!&mdash;um!&rdquo; replied Mr. Halfpenny, tapping the tips of his gloves
+together. &ldquo;That, my dear sir, is a somewhat difficult question to
+answer. I believe that all readers of the newspapers are aware that our
+Law Courts are somewhat congested&mdash;the cause lists are very full. The
+time which must elapse before a case can actually come to trial varies,
+my dear Tertius, varies enormously. But if&mdash;as in the matter we are
+supposing would probably be the case&mdash;if all the parties concerned were
+particularly anxious to have the case disposed of without delay, the
+trial might be arrived at within three or four months&mdash;that is, my dear
+sir, if the Long Vacation did not intervene. But&mdash;speaking generally&mdash;a
+better, more usual, more probable estimate would be, say six, seven,
+eight, or nine months.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So long?&rdquo; exclaimed Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;I thought that justice was neither
+denied, sold, nor delayed!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg&nbsp;159]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Justice is never denied, my good friend, nor is it sold,&rdquo; replied Mr.
+Halfpenny, oracularly. &ldquo;As to delay, ah, well, you know, if people will
+be litigants&mdash;and I assure you that nothing is so pleasing to a very
+large number of extraordinary persons who simply love litigation&mdash;a
+little delay cannot be avoided. However, we will hope that we shall have
+no litigation. Our present job is to get that will proved, and so far I
+see no difficulty. There is the will&mdash;we have the witnesses. At least,
+there are you, and we&rsquo;re hoping to see t&rsquo;other in a few minutes. By the
+by, Tertius, what sort of fellow is this Burchill?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius considered his answer to this question.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I hardly know,&rdquo; he said at last. &ldquo;Of course, I have rarely seen
+much of Jacob&rsquo;s secretaries. This man&mdash;he&rsquo;s not quite a youngster,
+Halfpenny&mdash;struck me as being the sort of person who might be
+dangerous.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; exclaimed Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;Dangerous! God bless me! Now, in what
+way, Tertius?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t quite know,&rdquo; replied Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;He, somehow, from what I saw
+of him, suggested, I really don&rsquo;t know how, a certain atmosphere of,
+say&mdash;I&rsquo;m trying to find the right words&mdash;cunning, subtlety, depth.
+Yes&mdash;yes, I should say he was what we commonly call&mdash;or what is commonly
+called in vulgar parlance&mdash;deep. Deep!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You mean&mdash;designing?&rdquo; suggested Mr. Halfpenny.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Exactly&mdash;designing,&rdquo; assented Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;It&mdash;it was the sort of idea
+he conveyed, you know.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg&nbsp;160]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t like the sound of him,&rdquo; said Mr. Halfpenny, &ldquo;However, he&rsquo;s the
+second witness and we must put up with the fact. And here we are at
+these Calengrove Mansions, and let&rsquo;s hope we haven&rsquo;t a hundred infernal
+steps to climb, and that we find the fellow in.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The fellow was in. And the fellow, who had now discarded his mourning
+suit for the purple and fine linen which suggested Bond Street, was just
+about to go out, and was in a great hurry, and said so. He listened with
+obvious impatience while Mr. Tertius presented his companion.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I wished to see you about the will of the deceased Jacob Herapath, Mr.
+Burchill,&rdquo; said Mr. Halfpenny &ldquo;The will which, of course, you
+witnessed.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Burchill, who was gathering some books and papers together, and had
+already apologized for not being able to ask his callers to sit down,
+answered in an off-hand, bustling fashion.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course, of course!&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;Mr. Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s will, eh? Oh,
+of course, yes. Anything I can do, Mr. Halfpenny, of course&mdash;perhaps
+you&rsquo;ll drop me a line and make an appointment at your office some
+day&mdash;then I&rsquo;ll call, d&rsquo;you see?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You remember the occasion, and the will, and your signature?&rdquo; said Mr.
+Halfpenny, contriving to give Mr. Tertius a nudge as he put this direct
+question.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg&nbsp;161]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I remember everything that ever happened in connection with my
+secretaryship to Mr. Jacob Herapath!&rdquo; replied Burchill, still bustling.
+&ldquo;I shall be ready for anything whenever I&rsquo;m wanted, Mr.
+Halfpenny&mdash;pleased to be of service to the family, I&rsquo;m sure. Now, you
+must really pardon me, gentlemen, if I hurry you and myself out&mdash;I&rsquo;ve a
+most important engagement and I&rsquo;m late already. As I said&mdash;drop me a
+line for an appointment, Mr. Halfpenny, and I&rsquo;ll come to you. Now,
+good-bye, good-bye!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He had got them out of his flat, shaken hands with them, and hurried off
+before either elderly gentleman could get a word in, and as he flew
+towards the stairs Mr. Halfpenny looked at Mr. Tertius and shook his
+head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That beggar didn&rsquo;t want to talk,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t like it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But he said that he remembered!&rdquo; exclaimed Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;Wasn&rsquo;t that
+satisfactory?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Anything but satisfactory, the whole thing,&rdquo; replied the old lawyer.
+&ldquo;Didn&rsquo;t you notice that the man avoided any direct reply? He said &lsquo;of
+course&rsquo; about a hundred times, and was as ambiguous, and non-committal,
+and vague, as he could be. My dear Tertius, the fellow was fencing!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius looked deeply distressed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t think&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; he began.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I might think a lot when I begin to think,&rdquo; said Mr. Halfpenny as they
+slowly descended the stairs from the desert solitude of the top floor of
+Calengrove Mansions. &ldquo;But there&rsquo;s one thought that strikes me just
+now&mdash;do you remember what Burchill&rsquo;s old landlady at Upper Seymour
+Street told us?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That Barthorpe Herapath had been to inquire for Burchill?&mdash;yes,&rdquo;
+replied Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re wondering&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg&nbsp;162]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m wondering if, since then, Barthorpe has found him,&rdquo; said Mr.
+Halfpenny. &ldquo;If he has&mdash;if there have been passages between them&mdash;if&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He paused half-way down the stairs, stood for a moment or two in deep
+thought and then laid his hand on his friend&rsquo;s arm.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tertius!&rdquo; he said gravely. &ldquo;That will must be presented for probate at
+once! I must lose no time. Come along&mdash;let me get back to my office and
+get to work. And do you go back to Portman Square and give the little
+woman your company.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius went back to Portman Square there and then, and did what he
+could to make the gloomy house less gloomy. Instead of retreating to his
+own solitude he remained with Peggie, and tried to cheer her up by
+discussing various plans and matters of the future. And he was taking a
+quiet cup of tea with her at five o&rsquo;clock when Kitteridge came in with a
+telegram for him. He opened it with trembling fingers and read:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>&ldquo;<i>Barthorpe entered caveat in Probate Registry at half-past
+three this afternoon.&mdash;Halfpenny.</i>&rdquo;</p></div>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg&nbsp;163]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">the rosewood box</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius dropped the telegram on the little table at which he and
+Peggie were sitting, and betrayed his feelings with a deep groan.
+Peggie, who was just about to give him his second cup of tea, set down
+her teapot and jumped to his side.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, what is it!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;Some bad news? Please&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius pulled himself together and tried to smile.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You must forgive me, my dear,&rdquo; he said, with a feeble attempt to speak
+cheerily. &ldquo;I&mdash;the truth is, I think I have lived in such a state of ease
+and&mdash;yes, luxury, for so many years that I am not capable of readily
+bearing these trials and troubles. I&rsquo;m ashamed of myself&mdash;I must be
+braver&mdash;not so easily affected.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But&mdash;the telegram?&rdquo; said Peggie.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius handed it to her with a dismal shake of his head.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg&nbsp;164]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I suppose it&rsquo;s only what was to be expected, after all that Halfpenny
+told me this afternoon,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;But I scarcely thought it would
+occur so soon. My dear, I am afraid you must prepare yourself for a
+great deal of unpleasantness and worry. Your cousin seems to be
+determined to give much trouble. Extraordinary!&mdash;most extraordinary! My
+dear, I confess I do not understand it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peggie had picked up the telegram and was reading it with knitted brow.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Barthorpe entered caveat in Probate Registry at half-past three this
+afternoon,&rsquo;&rdquo; she slowly repeated. &ldquo;But what does that mean, Mr. Tertius?
+Something to do with the will?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A great deal to do with the will, I fear!&rdquo; replied Mr. Tertius,
+lugubriously. &ldquo;A caveat, my dear, is some sort of process&mdash;I&rsquo;m sure I
+don&rsquo;t know whether it&rsquo;s given by word of mouth, or if it&rsquo;s a
+document&mdash;by which the admission to probate of a dead person&rsquo;s last will
+and testament can be stopped. In plain language,&rdquo; continued Mr. Tertius,
+&ldquo;your cousin Barthorpe has been to the Probate Registry and done
+something to prevent Mr. Halfpenny from proving the will. It is a wicked
+action on his part&mdash;and, considering that he is a solicitor, and that he
+saw the will with his own eyes, it is, as I have previously remarked,
+most extraordinary!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And all this means&mdash;what?&rdquo; asked Peggie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It means that there will be legal proceedings,&rdquo; groaned Mr. Tertius.
+&ldquo;Long, tedious, most annoying and trying proceedings! Perhaps a
+trial&mdash;we may have to go to court and give evidence. I dread it!&mdash;I am,
+as I said, so used to a life of ease and freedom from anxiety that
+anything of this sort distresses me unspeakably. I fear I am
+degenerating into cowardice!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg&nbsp;165]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nonsense!&rdquo; said Peggie. &ldquo;It is merely that this sort of thing is
+disturbing. And we are not going to be afraid of Barthorpe. Barthorpe is
+very foolish. I meant&mdash;always have meant, ever since I heard about the
+will&mdash;to share with him, for there&rsquo;s no law against that. But if
+Barthorpe wants to upset the will altogether and claim everything, I
+shall fight him. And if I win&mdash;as I suppose I shall&mdash;I shall make him do
+penance pretty heavily before he&rsquo;s forgiven. However, that&rsquo;s all in the
+future. What I don&rsquo;t understand about the present is&mdash;how can that will
+be upset? Mr. Halfpenny says it&rsquo;s duly and properly executed, witnessed,
+and so on&mdash;how can Barthorpe object to it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius put down his cup and rose.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your cousin, Barthorpe, my dear, is, I regret to say, a deep man,&rdquo; he
+replied. &ldquo;He has some scheme in his head. This,&rdquo; he went on, picking up
+the telegram and placing it in his pocket, &ldquo;this is the first step in
+that scheme. Well, it is perhaps a relief to know that he has taken it:
+we shall now know where we are and what has to be done.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Quite so,&rdquo; said Peggie. &ldquo;But there is another matter, Mr. Tertius,
+which seems to be forgotten in this of the will. Pray, what is Barthorpe
+doing, what is anybody doing, about solving the mystery of my uncle&rsquo;s
+death? Everybody says he was murdered&mdash;who is doing anything to find the
+murderer?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius, who had advanced as far as the door on his way out of the
+room, came back to Peggie&rsquo;s side in a fashion suggestive of deep
+mystery, walking <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg&nbsp;166]</a></span>on the tips of his toes and putting a finger to his
+lips as he drew near his chair.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My dear!&rdquo; he said, bending down to her and speaking in a tone fully as
+indicative of mystery as his tip-toe movement, &ldquo;a great deal is being
+done&mdash;but in the strictest secrecy! Most important investigations, my
+dear!&mdash;the police, the detective police, you know. The word at
+present&mdash;to put it into one word, vulgar, but expressive&mdash;the word is
+&lsquo;Mum&rsquo;! Silence, my dear&mdash;the policy of the mole&mdash;underground working,
+you know. From what I am aware of, and from what our good friend
+Halfpenny tells me, and believes, I gather that a result will be
+attained which will be surprising.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So long as justice is done,&rdquo; remarked Peggie. &ldquo;That is all I want&mdash;all
+we ought to aim at. I don&rsquo;t care twopence about surprising or
+sensational discoveries&mdash;I want to see my uncle&rsquo;s murderer properly
+punished.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg&nbsp;167]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She shed a few more quiet tears over Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s untoward fate when
+Mr. Tertius had left her and fell to thinking about him. The thoughts
+which came presently led her to go to the dead man&rsquo;s room&mdash;a simple,
+spartan-like chamber which she had not entered since his death. She had
+a vague sense of wanting to be brought into touch with him through the
+things which had been his, and for a while she wandered aimlessly about
+the room, laying a hand now and then on the objects which she knew he
+must have handled the last time he had occupied the room&mdash;his toilet
+articles, the easy chair in which he always sat for a few minutes every
+night, reading a little before going to bed, the garments which hung in
+his wardrobe, anything on which his fingers had rested. And as she
+wandered about she noted, not for the first nor the hundredth time, how
+Jacob Herapath had gathered about him in this room a number of objects
+connected with his youth. The very furniture, simple, homely stuff, had
+once stood in his mother&rsquo;s bedroom in a small cottage in a far-off
+country. On the walls were portraits of his father and mother&mdash;crude
+things painted by some local artist; there, too, were some samplers
+worked by his mother in her girlhood, flanked by some faded groups of
+flowers which she had painted about the same time. Jacob Herapath had
+brought all these things to his grand house in Portman Square years
+before, and had cleared a room of fine modern furniture and fittings to
+make space for them. He had often said to Peggie, when she grew old
+enough to understand, that he liked to wake in a morning and see the old
+familiar things about him which he had known as a child. For one object
+in that room he had a special veneration and affection&mdash;an old rosewood
+workbox, which had belonged to his mother, and to her mother before her.
+Once he had allowed Peggie to inspect it, to take from it the tray lined
+with padded green silk, to examine the various nooks and corners
+contrived by the eighteenth-century cabinetmaker&mdash;some disciple, maybe,
+of Chippendale or Sheraton&mdash;to fit the tarnished silver thimbles on to
+her own fingers, to wonder at the knick-knacks of a departed age, and to
+laugh over <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg&nbsp;168]</a></span>the scent of rose and lavender which hung about the skeins
+and spools. And he had told her that when he died the rosewood box
+should be hers&mdash;as long as he lived, he said, it must stand on his chest
+of drawers, so that he could see it at least twice a day.</p>
+
+<p>Jacob Herapath was dead now, and buried, and the rosewood box and
+everything else that had been his had passed to Peggie&mdash;as things were,
+at any rate. She presently walked up to the queer old chest of drawers,
+and drew the rosewood box towards her and lifted the lid. It was years
+since Jacob had shown it to her, and she remembered the childish delight
+with which she had lifted out the tray which lay on the top and looked
+into the various compartments beneath it. Now she opened the box again,
+and lifted the tray&mdash;and there, lying bold and uncovered before her
+eyes, she saw a letter, inscribed with one word in Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s
+well-known handwriting&mdash;&ldquo;Peggie.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>If Jacob Herapath himself had suddenly appeared before her in that quiet
+room, the girl could scarcely have felt more keenly the strange and
+subtle fear which seized upon her as she realized that what she was
+staring at was probably some message to herself. It was some time before
+she dared to lay hands on this message&mdash;when at last she took the letter
+out of the box her fingers trembled so much that she found a difficulty
+in opening the heavily-sealed envelope. But she calmed herself with a
+great effort, and carrying the half-sheet of note-paper, which she drew
+from its cover, over to the window, lifted it in the fading light <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg&nbsp;169]</a></span>and
+read the few lines which Jacob Herapath had scrawled there.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>&ldquo;If anything ever happens suddenly to me, my will, duly
+executed and witnessed by Mr. Tertius and Mr. Frank Burchill,
+is in a secret drawer of my old bureau which lies behind the
+third small drawer on the right-hand side.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Jacob Herapath</span>.&rdquo;</p></div>
+
+<p>That was all&mdash;beyond a date, and the date was a recent one. &ldquo;If anything
+ever happens suddenly&rdquo;&mdash;had he then felt some fear, experienced any
+premonition, of a sudden happening? Why had he never said anything to
+her, why?</p>
+
+<p>But Peggie realized that such questions were useless at that time&mdash;that
+time was pre-eminently one of action. She put the letter back in the
+rosewood box, took the box in her arms, and carrying it off to her own
+room, locked it up in a place of security. And that had scarcely been
+done when Kitteridge came seeking her and bringing with him a card: Mr.
+Frank Burchill&rsquo;s card, and on it scribbled a single line: &ldquo;Will you
+kindly give me a few minutes?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peggie considered this request in one flash of thought, and turned to
+the butler.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where is Mr. Burchill?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;In the study? Very well, I will
+come down to him in a few minutes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She made a mighty effort to show herself calm, collected, and
+indifferent, when she presently went down to the study. But she neither
+shook hands with the caller, nor asked him to sit; instead she <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg&nbsp;170]</a></span>marched
+across to the hearthrug and regarded him from a distance.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, Mr. Burchill?&rdquo; she said quietly. &ldquo;You wish to see me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She looked him over steadily as she spoke, and noted a certain air of
+calm self-assurance about him which struck her with a vague uneasiness.
+He was too easy, too quiet, too entirely businesslike to be free from
+danger. And the bow which he gave her was, to her thinking, the height
+of false artifice.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I wished to see you and to speak to you, with your permission,&rdquo; he
+answered. &ldquo;I beg you to believe that what I have&mdash;what I desire to say
+is to be said by me with the deepest respect, the most sincere
+consideration. I have your permission to speak? Then I beg to ask you
+if&mdash;I speak with deep courtesy!&mdash;if the answer which you made to a
+certain question of mine some time ago is&mdash;was&mdash;is to be&mdash;final?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So final that I am surprised that you should refer to the matter,&rdquo;
+replied Peggie. &ldquo;I told you so at the time.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Circumstances have changed,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I am at a parting of the ways in
+life&rsquo;s journey. I wish to know&mdash;definitely&mdash;which way I am to take. A
+ray of guiding light from you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There will be none!&rdquo; said Peggie sharply. &ldquo;Not a gleam. This is waste
+of time. If that is all you have to say&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The door of the study opened, and Selwood, who was still engaged about
+the house, came in. He <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg&nbsp;171]</a></span>paused on the threshold, staring from one to the
+other, and made as if to withdraw. But Peggie openly smiled on him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come in, Mr. Selwood,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I was just going to ask Kitteridge to
+find you. I want to see both you and Mr. Tertius.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then she turned to Burchill, who stood, a well-posed figure in his fine
+raiment, still watching her, and made him a frigid bow.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There is no more to say on that point&mdash;at any time,&rdquo; she said quietly.
+&ldquo;Good day. Mr. Selwood, will you ring the bell?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Burchill executed another profound and self-possessed bow. He presently
+followed the footman from the room, and Peggie, for the first time since
+Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s death, suddenly let her face relax and burst into a
+hearty laugh.</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg&nbsp;172]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">weaving the net</p>
+
+<p>That evening Triffitt got Burchill&rsquo;s address from Carver, and next day
+he drew a hundred pounds from the cashier of the <i>Argus</i> and went off to
+Calengrove Mansions. In his mind there was a clear and definite notion.
+It might result in something; it might come to nothing, but he was going
+to try it. Briefly, it was that if he wished&mdash;as he unfeignedly did
+wish&mdash;to find out anything about Burchill, he must be near him; so near,
+indeed, that he could keep an eye on him, acquaint himself with his
+goings and comings, observe his visitors, watch for possible openings,
+make himself familiar with Burchill&rsquo;s daily life. It might be a
+difficult task; it might be an easy task&mdash;in any case, it was a task
+that must be attempted. With Markledew&rsquo;s full consent and approval
+behind him and Markledew&rsquo;s money-bags to draw upon, Triffitt felt equal
+to attempting anything.</p>
+
+<p>The first thing was to take a quiet look at Burchill&rsquo;s immediate
+environment. Calengrove Mansions turned out to be one of the smaller of
+the many blocks of residential flats which have of late years arisen in
+such numbers in the neighbourhood of Maida Vale and St. John&rsquo;s Wood. It
+was an affair of some five or six floors, and judging from what Triffitt
+could see of it <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg&nbsp;173]</a></span>from two sides, it was not fully occupied at that time,
+for many of its windows were uncurtained, and there was a certain air of
+emptiness about the upper storeys. This fact was not unpleasing to
+Triffitt; it argued that he would have small difficulty in finding a
+lodgment within the walls which sheltered the man he wanted to watch.
+And in pursuance of his scheme, which, as a beginning, was to find out
+exactly where Burchill was located, he walked into the main entrance and
+looked about him, hoping to find an address-board. Such a board
+immediately caught his eye, affixed to the wall near the main staircase.
+Then Triffitt saw that the building was divided into five floors, each
+floor having some three or four flats. Those on the bottom floors
+appeared to be pretty well taken; the names of their occupants were
+neatly painted in small compartments on the board. Right at the top was
+the name Mr. Frank Burchill&mdash;and on that floor, which evidently
+possessed three flats, there were presumably no other occupants, for the
+remaining two spaces relating to it were blank.</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt took all this in at a glance; another glance showed him a door
+close by on which was painted the word &ldquo;Office.&rdquo; He pushed this open and
+walked inside, to confront a clerk who was the sole occupant. To him,
+Triffitt, plunging straight into business, gently intimated that he was
+searching for a convenient flat. The clerk immediately began to pull out
+some coloured plans, labelled first, second, third floors.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg&nbsp;174]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;About what sized flat do you require?&rdquo; he asked. He had already looked
+Triffitt well over, and as Triffitt, in honour of the occasion, had put
+on his smartest suit and a new overcoat, he decided that this was a
+young man who was either just married or about to be married. &ldquo;Do you
+want a family flat, or one for a couple without family, or&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What I want,&rdquo; answered Triffitt readily, &ldquo;is a bachelor flat&mdash;for
+myself. And&mdash;if possible&mdash;furnished.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; said the clerk. &ldquo;Just so. I happen to have something that will
+suit you exactly&mdash;that is, if you don&rsquo;t want to take it for longer than
+three or four months.&rdquo; He pulled forward another plan, labelled &ldquo;Fifth
+Floor,&rdquo; and pointed to certain portions, shaded off in light colours.
+&ldquo;One of our tenants, Mr. Stillwater,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;has gone abroad for
+four months, and he&rsquo;d be glad to let his flat, furnished, in his
+absence. That&rsquo;s it&mdash;it contains, you see, a nice sitting-room, a
+bedroom, a bathroom, and a small kitchen&mdash;all contained within the flat,
+of course. It is well and comfortably furnished, and available at once.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt bent over the plan. But he was not looking at the shaded
+portion over which the clerk&rsquo;s pencil was straying; instead he was
+regarding the fact that across the corresponding portion of the plan was
+written in red ink the words, &ldquo;Mr. Frank Burchill.&rdquo; The third portion
+was blank; it, apparently, was unlet.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is really about the size of flat I want,&rdquo; said Triffitt, musingly.
+&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the rent of that, now?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg&nbsp;175]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can let that to you for fifty shillings a week,&rdquo; answered the clerk.
+&ldquo;That includes everything&mdash;there&rsquo;s plate, linen, glass, china, anything
+you want. Slight attendance can be arranged for with our caretaker&rsquo;s
+wife&mdash;that is, she can cook breakfast, and make beds, and do more, if
+necessary. Perhaps you would like to see this flat?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt followed the clerk to the top of the house. The absent Mr.
+Stillwater&rsquo;s rooms were comfortable and pleasant; one glance around them
+decided Triffitt.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This place will suit me very well,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Now I&rsquo;ll give you
+satisfactory references about myself, and pay you a month&rsquo;s rent in
+advance, and if that&rsquo;s all right to you, I&rsquo;ll come in today. You can
+ring up my references on your &rsquo;phone, and then, if you&rsquo;re satisfied,
+we&rsquo;ll settle the rent, and I&rsquo;ll see the caretaker&rsquo;s wife about airing
+that bed.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Within half an hour Triffitt was occupant of the flat, the cashier of
+the <i>Argus</i> having duly telephoned that he was a thoroughly dependable
+and much-respected member of its staff, and Triffitt himself having
+handed over ten pounds as rent for the coming month, he interviewed the
+caretaker&rsquo;s wife, went to a neighbouring grocer&rsquo;s shop and ordered a
+stock of necessaries wherewith to fill his larder, repaired to his own
+lodgings and brought away all that he wanted in the way of luggage,
+books, and papers, and by the middle of the afternoon was fairly settled
+in his new quarters. He spent an hour in putting himself and his
+belongings straight&mdash;and then came the question what next?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg&nbsp;176]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He was there for a special purpose&mdash;that special purpose was to
+acquaint himself as thoroughly as possible with the doings of Frank
+Burchill. Burchill was there&mdash;he was almost on the point of saying, in
+the next cell!&mdash;there, in the flat across the corridor; figuratively,
+within touch, if it were not for sundry divisions of brick, mortar, and
+the like. Burchill&rsquo;s door was precisely opposite his own; there was an
+advantage in that fact. And in Triffitt&rsquo;s outer door (all these flats,
+he discovered&mdash;that is, if they were all like his own, possessed double
+doors) there was a convenient letter slit, by manipulating which he
+could, if he chose, keep a perpetual observation on the other opposite.
+But Triffitt did not propose to sit with his eye glued to that letter
+slit all day&mdash;it might be useful at times, and for some special purpose,
+but he had wider views. And the first thing to do was to make an
+examination, geographical and exhaustive, of his own surroundings:
+Triffitt had learnt, during his journalistic training, that attention to
+details is one of the most important things in life.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg&nbsp;177]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The first thing that had struck Triffitt in this respect was that there
+was no lift in this building. He had remarked on that to the clerk, and
+the clerk had answered with a shrug of the shoulders that it was a
+mistake and one for which the proprietor was already having to pay.
+However, Triffitt, bearing in mind what job he was on, was not
+displeased that the lift had been omitted&mdash;it is sometimes an advantage
+to be able to hang over the top rail of a staircase and watch people
+coming up from below. He stored that fact in his mental reservoirs. And
+now that he had got into his rooms, he proceeded to seek for more
+facts. First, as to the rooms themselves&mdash;he wanted to know all about
+them, because he had carefully noticed, while looking at the plan of
+that floor in the office downstairs, that Burchill&rsquo;s flat was arranged
+exactly like his own. And Triffitt&rsquo;s flat was like this&mdash;you entered
+through a double door into a good-sized sitting-room, out of which two
+other rooms led&mdash;one went into a small kitchen and pantry; the other
+into the bedroom, at the side of which was a little bathroom. The
+windows of the bedroom opened on to a view of the street below; those of
+the sitting-room on to a square of garden, on the lawn of which tenants
+might disport themselves, more or less sadly, with tennis or croquet in
+summer.</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt looked out of his sitting-room windows last of all. He then
+perceived with great joy that in front of them was a balcony, and that
+this balcony stretched across the entire front of the house. There were,
+in fact, balconies to all five floors&mdash;the notion being, of course, that
+occupants could whenever they pleased sit out there in such sunlight as
+struggled between their own roof and the tall buildings opposite. It
+immediately occurred to Triffitt that here was an easy way of making a
+call upon your next door neighbour; instead of crossing the corridor and
+knocking at his door, you had nothing to do but walk along the balcony
+and tap at his window. Filled with this thought Triffitt immediately
+stepped out on his balcony and inspected the windows of his own and the
+next flat. He immediately saw something which filled <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg&nbsp;178]</a></span>him with a great
+idea. Both windows were fitted with patent ventilators, let into the top
+panes. Now, supposing one of these ventilators was fully open, and two
+people were talking within the room in even the ordinary tones of
+conversation&mdash;would it not be possible for an eavesdropper outside to
+hear a good deal, if not everything, of what was said? The idea was
+worth thinking over, anyway, and Triffitt retired indoors to ruminate
+over it and over much else.</p>
+
+<p>For two or three days nothing happened. Twice Triffitt met Burchill on
+the stairs&mdash;Burchill, of course, did not know him from Adam, and gave
+him no more than the mere glance he would have thrown at any other
+ordinary young man. Triffitt, however, gave Burchill more than a passing
+look&mdash;unobtrusively. Certainly he was the man whom he had seen in the
+dock nine years before in that far-off Scottish town&mdash;there was little
+appreciable alteration in his appearance, except that he was now very
+smartly dressed. There were peculiarities about the fellow, said
+Triffitt, which you couldn&rsquo;t forget&mdash;certainly, Frank Burchill was
+Francis Bentham.</p>
+
+<p>But on the third day, two things happened&mdash;one connected directly with
+Triffitt&rsquo;s new venture, the other not. The first was that as Triffitt
+was going down the stairs that afternoon, on his way to the office, at
+which he kept looking in now and then, although he was relieved from
+regular attendance and duty, he met Barthorpe Herapath coming up.
+Triffitt thanked his lucky stars that the staircase was badly lighted,
+and that this was an unusually gloomy November <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg&nbsp;179]</a></span>day. True, Barthorpe had
+only once seen him, that he knew of&mdash;that morning at the estate office,
+when he, Triffitt, had asked Selwood for information&mdash;but then, some men
+have sharp memories for faces, and Barthorpe might recognize him and
+wonder what an <i>Argus</i> man was doing there in Calengrove Mansions. So
+Triffitt quickly pulled the flap of the Trilby hat about his nose, and
+sank his chin lower into the turned-up collar of his overcoat, and
+hurried past the tall figure. And Barthorpe on his part never looked at
+the reporter&mdash;or if he did, took no more heed of him than of the
+balustrade at his side.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s one thing established, anyway!&rdquo; mused Triffitt as he went his
+way. &ldquo;Barthorpe Herapath is in touch with Burchill. The dead man&rsquo;s
+nephew and the dead man&rsquo;s ex-secretary&mdash;um! Putting their heads
+together&mdash;about what?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He was still pondering this question when he reached the office and
+found a note from Carver who wanted to see him at once. Triffitt went
+round to the <i>Magnet</i> and got speech with Carver in a quiet corner.
+Carver went straight to his point.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got him,&rdquo; he said, eyeing his fellow-conspirator triumphantly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Got&mdash;who?&rdquo; demanded Triffitt.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That taxi-cab chap&mdash;you know who I mean,&rdquo; answered Carver. &ldquo;Ran him
+down at noon today.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No!&rdquo; exclaimed Triffitt. &ldquo;Gad! Are you sure, though?&mdash;is it certain
+he&rsquo;s the man you were after?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg&nbsp;180]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He&rsquo;s the chap who drove a gentleman from near Portman Square to just by
+St. Mary Abbot church at two o&rsquo;clock on the morning of the Herapath
+murder,&rdquo; replied Carver. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s a dead certainty! I risked five pounds
+on it, anyway, for which I&rsquo;ll trouble you. I went on the lines of
+rounding up all the cabbies I could find who were as a rule on night
+duty round about that quarter, and bit by bit I got on to this fellow,
+and, as I say, I gave him a fiver for just telling me a mere bit. And
+it&rsquo;s here&mdash;he&rsquo;s already given some information to that old Mr.
+Tertius&mdash;you know&mdash;and Tertius commanded him to keep absolutely quiet
+until the moment came for a move. Well, that moment has not come yet,
+evidently&mdash;the chap hasn&rsquo;t been called on since, anyhow&mdash;and when I
+mentioned money he began to prick his ears. He&rsquo;s willing to tell&mdash;for
+money&mdash;if we keep dark what he tells us. The truth is, he&rsquo;s out to get
+what he can out of anybody. If you make it worth his while, he&rsquo;ll tell.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Aye!&rdquo; said Triffitt. &ldquo;But the question is, what has he got to tell?
+What does he know?&mdash;actually know?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He knows,&rdquo; replied Carver, &ldquo;he actually knows who the man was that he
+drove that morning! He didn&rsquo;t know who he was when he first gave
+information to Tertius, but he knows now, and, as I say, he&rsquo;s willing to
+sell his knowledge&mdash;in private.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg&nbsp;181]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">the diamond ring</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt considered Carver&rsquo;s report during a moment of mutual silence.
+If he had consulted his own personal inclination he would have demanded
+to be led straight to the taxi-cab driver. But Triffitt knew himself to
+be the expender of the Markledew money, and the knowledge made him
+unduly cautious.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It comes to this,&rdquo; he said at last, &ldquo;this chap knows something which
+he&rsquo;s already told to this Mr. Tertius. Mr. Tertius has in all
+probability already told it to the people at New Scotland Yard. They, of
+course, will use the information at their own time and in their own way.
+But what we want is something new&mdash;something startling&mdash;something good!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I tell you the fellow&rsquo;s got all that,&rdquo; said Carver. &ldquo;He knows the man
+whom he drove that morning. Isn&rsquo;t that good enough?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Depend upon how I can bring it out,&rdquo; answered Triffitt. &ldquo;Well, when can
+I see this chap?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tonight&mdash;seven o&rsquo;clock,&rdquo; replied Carver. &ldquo;I fixed that, in
+anticipation.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And&mdash;where?&rdquo; demanded Triffitt.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go with you&mdash;it&rsquo;s to be at a pub near Orchard Street,&rdquo; said
+Carver. &ldquo;Better bring money with you&mdash;he&rsquo;ll want cash.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg&nbsp;182]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right,&rdquo; agreed Triffitt. &ldquo;But I&rsquo;m not going to throw coin about
+recklessly. I shall want value.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Carver laughed. Triffitt&rsquo;s sudden caution amused him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I reckon people have to buy pigs in pokes in dealing with this sort of
+thing, Triff,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;But whether the chap&rsquo;s information&rsquo;s good for
+much or not, I&rsquo;m certain it&rsquo;s genuine. Well, come round here again at
+six-thirty.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt, banknotes in pocket, went round again at six-thirty, and was
+duly conducted Oxford Street way by Carver, who eventually led him into
+a network of small streets, in which the mews and the stable appeared to
+be conspicuous features, and to the bar-parlour of a somewhat dingy
+tavern, at that hour little frequented. And at precisely seven o&rsquo;clock
+the door of the parlour opened and a face showed itself, recognized
+Carver, and grinned. Carver beckoned the face into a corner, and having
+formally introduced his friend Triffitt, suggested liquid refreshment.
+The face assented cordially, and having obscured itself for a moment
+behind a pint pot, heaved a sigh of gratification, and seemed desirous
+of entering upon business.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg&nbsp;183]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But it ain&rsquo;t, of course, to go no further&mdash;at present,&rdquo; said the owner
+of the face. &ldquo;Not into no newspapers nor nothing, <i>at</i> present. I don&rsquo;t
+mind telling you young gents, if it&rsquo;s made worth my while, of course,
+but as things is, I don&rsquo;t want the old gent in Portman Square to know as
+how I&rsquo;ve let on&mdash;d&rsquo;ye see? Of course, I ain&rsquo;t seen nothing of him never
+since I called there, and he gave me a couple o&rsquo; quid, and told me to
+expect more&mdash;only the more&rsquo;s a long time o&rsquo; coming, and if I do see my
+way to turning a honest penny by what I knows, why, then, d&rsquo;ye see&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I see, very well,&rdquo; assented Triffitt. &ldquo;And what might your idea of an
+honest penny be, now?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The taxi-cab driver silently regarded his questioner. He had already had
+a five-pound note out of Carver, who carried a small fund about him in
+case of emergency; he was speculating on his chances of materially
+increasing this, and his eyes grew greedy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, now, guv&rsquo;nor, what&rsquo;s your own notion of that?&rdquo; he asked at last.
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m a poor chap, you know, and I don&rsquo;t often get a chance o&rsquo; making a
+bit in this way. What&rsquo;s it worth&mdash;what I can tell, you know&mdash;to you?
+This here young gentleman was keen enough about it this afternoon,
+guv&rsquo;nor.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Depends,&rdquo; answered Triffitt. &ldquo;You&rsquo;d better answer a question or two.
+First&mdash;you haven&rsquo;t told the old gentleman in Portman Square&mdash;Mr.
+Tertius&mdash;any more than what you told my friend here you&rsquo;d told him?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not a word more, guv&rsquo;nor! &rsquo;Cause why&mdash;I ain&rsquo;t seen him since.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And you&rsquo;ve told nothing to the police?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The police ain&rsquo;t never come a-nigh me, and I ain&rsquo;t been near them. What
+the old chap said was&mdash;wait! And I&rsquo;ve waited and ain&rsquo;t heard nothing.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wherefore,&rdquo; observed Triffitt sardonically, &ldquo;you want to make a bit.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg&nbsp;184]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ain&rsquo;t no harm in a man doing his best for his-elf, guv&rsquo;nor, I hope,&rdquo;
+said the would-be informant. &ldquo;If I don&rsquo;t look after myself, who&rsquo;s
+a-going to look after me&mdash;I asks you that, now?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And I ask you&mdash;how much?&rdquo; said Triffitt. &ldquo;Out with it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The taxi-cab driver considered, eyeing his prospective customer
+furtively.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The other gent told you what it is I can tell, guv&rsquo;nor?&rdquo; he said at
+last. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s information of what you might call partik&rsquo;lar importance, is
+that.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know&mdash;you can tell the name of the man whom you drove that morning
+from the corner of Orchard Street to Kensington High Street,&rdquo; replied
+Triffitt. &ldquo;It may be important&mdash;it mayn&rsquo;t. You see, the police haven&rsquo;t
+been in any hurry to approach you, have they? Come now, give it a name?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The informant summoned up his resolution.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Cash down&mdash;on the spot, guv&rsquo;nor?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Spot cash,&rdquo; replied Triffitt. &ldquo;On this table!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well&mdash;how would a couple o&rsquo; fivers be, now?&rdquo; asked the anxious one.
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s good stuff, guv&rsquo;nor.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A couple of fivers will do,&rdquo; answered Triffitt. &ldquo;And here they are.&rdquo; He
+took two brand-new, crackling five-pound notes from his pocket, folded
+them up, laid them on the table, and set a glass on them. &ldquo;Now, then!&rdquo;
+he said. &ldquo;Tell your tale&mdash;there&rsquo;s your money when it&rsquo;s told.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The taxi-cab driver eyed the notes, edged his chair further into the
+half-lighted corner in which Triffitt and Carver sat, and dropped his
+voice to a whisper.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg&nbsp;185]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right, guv&rsquo;nor,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Thanking you. Then it&rsquo;s this here&mdash;the
+man what I drove that morning was the nephew!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You mean Mr. Barthorpe Herapath?&rdquo; said Triffitt, also in a whisper.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s him&mdash;that&rsquo;s the identical, sir! Of course,&rdquo; continued the
+informant, &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t know nothing of that when I told the old gent in
+Portman Square what I did tell him. Now, you see, I wasn&rsquo;t called at
+that inquest down there at Kensington&mdash;after what I&rsquo;d told the old gent,
+I expected to be, but I wasn&rsquo;t. All the same, there&rsquo;s been a deal of
+talk around about the corner of Orchard Street, and, of course, there is
+them in that quarter as knows all the parties concerned, and this man
+Barthorpe, as you call him, was pointed out to me as the nephew&mdash;nephew
+to him as was murdered that night. And then, of course, I knew it was
+him as I took up at two o&rsquo;clock that morning.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How did you know?&rdquo; asked Triffitt.</p>
+
+<p>The taxi-cab driver held up a hand and tapped a brass ring on its third
+finger.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg&nbsp;186]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where I wears that ring, gentlemen,&rdquo; he said triumphantly, &ldquo;he wears a
+fine diamond&mdash;a reg&rsquo;lar swell &rsquo;un. That morning, when he got into my
+cab, he rested his hand a minute on the door, and the light from one o&rsquo;
+the lamps across the street shone full on the stone. Now, then, when
+this here Barthorpe was pointed out to me in Orchard Street, a few days
+ago, as the nephew of Jacob Herapath, he was talking to another
+gentleman, and as they stood there he lighted a cigar, and when he put
+his hand up, I see that ring again&mdash;no mistaking it, guv&rsquo;nor! He was
+the man. And, from what I&rsquo;ve read, it seems to me it was him as put on
+his uncle&rsquo;s coat and hat after the old chap was settled, and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If I were you, I&rsquo;d keep those theories to myself&mdash;yet awhile, at any
+rate,&rdquo; said Triffitt. &ldquo;In fact&mdash;I want you to. Here!&rdquo; he went on,
+removing the glass and pushing the folded banknotes towards the taxi-cab
+driver, &ldquo;put those in your pocket. And keep your mouth shut about having
+seen and told me. I shan&rsquo;t make any use&mdash;public use, anyway&mdash;of what
+you&rsquo;ve said, just yet. If the old gentleman, Tertius, comes to you, or
+the police come along with or without him, you can tell &rsquo;em anything you
+like&mdash;everything you&rsquo;ve told me if you please&mdash;it doesn&rsquo;t matter, now.
+But you&rsquo;re on no account to tell them that I&rsquo;ve seen you and that you&rsquo;ve
+spilt to me&mdash;do you understand?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The informant understood readily enough, and promised with equal
+readiness, even going so far as to say that that would suit him down to
+the ground.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right,&rdquo; said Triffitt, &ldquo;keep a still tongue as regards me, and
+there&rsquo;ll be another fiver for you. Now, Carver, we&rsquo;ll get.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Outside Triffitt gave his companion&rsquo;s arm a confidential squeeze.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg&nbsp;187]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Things are going well!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I wasn&rsquo;t a bit surprised at what that
+fellow told me&mdash;I expected it. What charms me is that Barthorpe
+Herapath, who is certainly to be strongly suspected, is in touch with
+Burchill&mdash;I didn&rsquo;t tell you that I met him on the stairs at Calengrove
+Mansions this afternoon. Of course, he was going to see my next-door
+neighbour! What about, friend Carver?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you could answer your own last question, we should know something,&rdquo;
+replied Carver.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We know something as it is,&rdquo; said Triffitt. &ldquo;Enough for me to tell
+Markledew, anyway. I don&rsquo;t see so far into all this, myself, but
+Markledew&rsquo;s the sort of chap who can look through three brick walls and
+see a mole at work in whatever&rsquo;s behind the third, and he&rsquo;ll see
+something in what I tell him, and I&rsquo;ll do the telling as soon as he
+comes down tomorrow morning.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Markledew listened to Triffitt&rsquo;s story next day in his usual rapt
+silence. The silence remained unbroken for some time after Triffitt had
+finished. And eventually Markledew got up from his elbow-chair and
+reached for his hat.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You can come with me,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll just ride as far as New Scotland
+Yard.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt felt himself turning pale. New Scotland Yard! Was he then to
+share his discoveries with officials? In spite of his awful veneration
+for the great man before him he could not prevent two words of
+despairing ejaculation escaping from his lips.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The police!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg&nbsp;188]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just so&mdash;the police,&rdquo; answered Markledew, calmly. &ldquo;I mean to work this
+in connection with them. No need to alarm yourself, young man&mdash;I know
+what you&rsquo;re thinking. But you won&rsquo;t lose any &lsquo;kudos&rsquo;&mdash;I&rsquo;m quite
+satisfied with you so far. But we can&rsquo;t do without the police&mdash;and they
+may be glad of even a hint from us. Now run down and get a taxi-cab and
+I&rsquo;ll meet you outside.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt had never been within the mazes of New Scotland Yard in his
+life, and had often wished that business would take him there. It was
+very soon plain to him, however, that his proprietor knew his way about
+the Criminal Investigation Department as well as he knew the <i>Argus</i>
+office. Markledew was quickly closeted with the high official who had
+seen Mr. Halfpenny and Mr. Tertius a few days previously; while they
+talked, Triffitt was left to kick his heels in a waiting-room. When he
+was eventually called in, he found not only the high official and
+Markledew, but another man whose name was presently given to him as
+Davidge.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Davidge,&rdquo; observed the high official, &ldquo;is in charge of this case.
+Will you just tell him your story?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It appeared to Triffitt that Mr. Davidge was the least impressionable,
+most stolid man he had ever known. Davidge showed no sign of interest;
+Triffitt began to wonder if anything could ever surprise him. He
+listened in dead silence to all that the reporter had to say; when
+Triffitt had finished he looked apathetically at his superior.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think, sir, I will just step round to Mr. Halfpenny&rsquo;s office,&rdquo; he
+remarked. &ldquo;Perhaps Mr. Triffitt will accompany me?&mdash;then he and I can
+have a bit of a talk.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt looked at Markledew: Markledew nodded his big head.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg&nbsp;189]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go with him,&rdquo; said Markledew. &ldquo;Work with him! He knows what he&rsquo;s
+after.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Davidge took Triffitt away to Mr. Halfpenny&rsquo;s office&mdash;on the way thither
+he talked about London fogs, one of which had come down that morning.
+But he never mentioned the business in hand until&mdash;having left Triffitt
+outside while he went in&mdash;he emerged from Mr. Halfpenny&rsquo;s room. Then he
+took the reporter&rsquo;s arm and led him away, and his manner changed to one
+of interest and even enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, young fellow!&rdquo; he said, leading Triffitt down the street, &ldquo;you&rsquo;re
+the chap I wanted to get hold of!&mdash;you&rsquo;re a godsend. And so you really
+have a flat next to that occupied by the person whom we&rsquo;ll refer to as
+F. B., eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have,&rdquo; answered Triffitt, who was full of wonderment.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good&mdash;good!&mdash;couldn&rsquo;t be better!&rdquo; murmured the detective. &ldquo;Now then&mdash;I
+dare say you&rsquo;d be quite pleased if I called on you at your flat&mdash;quietly
+and unobtrusively&mdash;at say seven o&rsquo;clock tonight, eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Delighted!&rdquo; answered Triffitt. &ldquo;Of course!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very good,&rdquo; said Davidge. &ldquo;Then at seven o&rsquo;clock tonight I shall be
+there. In the meantime&mdash;not a word. You&rsquo;re curious to know why I&rsquo;m
+coming? All right&mdash;keep your curiosity warm till I come&mdash;I&rsquo;ll satisfy
+it. Tonight, mind, young man&mdash;seven, sharp!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then he gave Triffitt&rsquo;s arm a squeeze and winked an eye at him, and at
+once set off in one direction, while the reporter, mystified and
+inquisitive, turned in another.</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg&nbsp;190]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">the deserted flat</p>
+
+<p>When Triffitt had fairly separated from the detective and had come to
+reckon up the events of that morning he became definitely conscious of
+one indisputable fact. The police knew more than he did. The police were
+in possession of information which had not come his way. The police were
+preparing some big <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><i>coup</i></span>. Therefore&mdash;the police would get all the
+glory.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg&nbsp;191]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>This was not what Triffitt had desired. He had wanted to find things out
+for himself, to make a grand discovery, to be able to go to Markledew
+and prove his case. Markledew could then have done what he pleased; it
+had always been in Triffitt&rsquo;s mind that Markledew would in all
+probability present the result of his reporter&rsquo;s labours to the people
+at Scotland Yard. But Markledew had become somewhat previous&mdash;he had
+insisted that Triffitt should talk to the Scotland Yard folk at this
+early&mdash;in Triffitt&rsquo;s view, much too early&mdash;stage of the proceedings. And
+Triffitt had felt all the time he was talking that he was only telling
+the high official and the apathetic Davidge something that they already
+knew. He had told them about his memories of Bentham and the Scottish
+murder trial&mdash;something convinced him that they were already well
+acquainted with that story. He had narrated the incident of the taxi-cab
+driver: he was sure that they were quite well aware that the man who had
+been driven from Orchard Street to St. Mary Abbot church that morning
+after the murder was Barthorpe Herapath. Their cold eyes and polite, yet
+almost chillingly indifferent manner had convinced Triffitt that they
+were just listening to something with which they were absolutely
+familiar. Never a gleam of interest had betrayed itself in their stolid
+official faces until he had referred to the fact that he himself was
+living in a flat next door to Burchill&rsquo;s. Then, indeed, the detective
+had roused himself almost to eagerness, and now he was coming to see
+him, Triffitt, quietly and unobtrusively. Why?</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All the same,&rdquo; mused Triffitt, &ldquo;I shall maybe prove a small cog in the
+bigger mechanism, and that&rsquo;s something. And Markledew was satisfied,
+anyway, so far. And if I don&rsquo;t get something out of that chap Davidge
+tonight, write me down an ass!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>From half-past six that evening, Triffitt, who had previously made some
+ingenious arrangements with the slit of his letter-box, by which he
+could keep an eye on the corridor outside, kept watch on Burchill&rsquo;s
+door&mdash;he had an instinctive notion that Davidge, when he arrived, would
+be glad to know whether the gentleman opposite was in or out. At a
+quarter to seven Burchill went out in evening dress, cloak, and opera
+hat, making a fine figure as he struck the light of the corridor lamp.
+And ten minutes later Triffitt heard steps coming along the corridor and
+he opened the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg&nbsp;192]</a></span>door to confront Davidge and another man, a
+quiet-looking, innocent-visaged person. Davidge waved a hand towards his
+companion.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Evening, Mr. Triffitt,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;Friend of mine&mdash;Mr. Milsey. You&rsquo;ll
+excuse the liberty, I&rsquo;m sure.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Glad to see both of you,&rdquo; answered Triffitt, cordially. He led the way
+into his sitting-room, drew chairs forward, and produced refreshments
+which he had carefully laid in during the afternoon in preparation.
+&ldquo;Drop of whisky and soda, gentlemen?&rdquo; he said, hospitably. &ldquo;Let me help
+you. Will you try a cigar?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very kind of you,&rdquo; replied Davidge. &ldquo;A slight amount of the liquid&rsquo;ll
+do us no harm, but no cigars, thank you, Mr. Triffitt. Cigars are apt to
+leave a scent, an odour, about one&rsquo;s clothes, however careful you may
+be, and we don&rsquo;t want to leave any traces of our presence where we&rsquo;re
+going, do we, Jim?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not much,&rdquo; assented Mr. Milsey, laconically. &ldquo;Wouldn&rsquo;t do.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt handed round the glasses and took a share himself.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s interesting! And where are you going, now&mdash;if one
+may ask?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Davidge nodded his desires for his host&rsquo;s good health, and then gave him
+a wink.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg&nbsp;193]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We propose to go in there,&rdquo; he said with a jerk of his thumb towards
+Burchill&rsquo;s flat. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s what I&rsquo;ve been wanting to do for three or four
+days, but I didn&rsquo;t see my way clear without resorting to a lot of
+things&mdash;search-warrant, and what not&mdash;and it would have meant collusion
+with the landlord here, and the clerk downstairs, and I don&rsquo;t know what
+all, so I put it off a bit. But when you told me that you&rsquo;d got this
+flat, why, then, I saw my way! Of course, I&rsquo;ve been familiar with the
+lie of these flats for a week&mdash;I saw the plans of &rsquo;em downstairs as soon
+as I started on to this job.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;ve been on this job from the beginning, then&mdash;in connection with
+him?&rdquo; exclaimed Triffitt, nodding towards the door.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;ve never had him out of our sight since I started,&rdquo; replied Davidge,
+coolly, &ldquo;except when he&rsquo;s been within his own four walls&mdash;where we&rsquo;re
+presently going. Oh, yes&mdash;we&rsquo;ve watched him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He&rsquo;s out now,&rdquo; remarked Triffitt.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We know that,&rdquo; said Davidge. &ldquo;We know where he&rsquo;s gone. There&rsquo;s a first
+night, a new play, at the Terpsichoreum&mdash;he&rsquo;s gone there. He&rsquo;s safe
+enough till midnight, so we&rsquo;ve plenty of time. We just want to have a
+look around his little nest while he&rsquo;s off it, d&rsquo;you see?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How are you going to get in?&rdquo; asked Triffitt.</p>
+
+<p>Davidge nodded towards the window of the sitting-room.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By way of that balcony,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I told you I knew all about how
+these flats are arranged. That balcony&rsquo;s mighty convenient, for the
+window&rsquo;ll not be any more difficult than ordinary.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;ll be locked, you know,&rdquo; observed Triffitt, with a glance at his
+own. &ldquo;Mine is, anyway, and you can bet his will be, too.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg&nbsp;194]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh&mdash;that doesn&rsquo;t matter,&rdquo; said Davidge, carelessly. &ldquo;We&rsquo;re prepared.
+Show Mr. Triffitt your kit, Jim&mdash;all pals here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The innocent-looking Mr. Milsey, who, during this conversation, had
+mechanically sipped at his whisky and soda and reflectively gazed at the
+various pictures with which the absent Mr. Stillwater had decorated the
+walls of his parlour, plunged a hand into some deep recess in his
+overcoat and brought out an oblong case which reminded Triffitt of
+nothing so much as those Morocco or Russian-leather affairs in which a
+knife, a fork, and a spoon repose on padded blue satin and form an
+elegant present to a newly-born infant. Mr. Milsey snapped open the lid
+of his case, and revealed, instead of spoon or fork or knife a number of
+shining keys, of all sorts and sizes and strange patterns, all of
+delicate make and of evidently superior workmanship. He pushed the case
+across the table to the corner at which Triffitt was sitting, and
+Davidge regarded it fondly in transit.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pretty things, ain&rsquo;t they?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Good workmanship there! There&rsquo;s
+not very much that you could lock up&mdash;in the ordinary way of drawers,
+boxes, desks, and so on&mdash;that Milsey there couldn&rsquo;t get into with the
+help of one or other of those little friends&mdash;what, Jim?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing!&mdash;always excepting a safe,&rdquo; assented Mr. Milsey.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg&nbsp;195]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, we don&rsquo;t suppose our friend next door keeps an article of that
+description on his premises,&rdquo; said Davidge cheerfully. &ldquo;But we expect
+he&rsquo;s got a desk, or a private drawer, or something of that nature in
+which we may find a few little matters of interest and importance&mdash;it&rsquo;s
+curious, Mr. Triffitt&mdash;we&rsquo;re constantly taking notice of it in the
+course of our professional duties&mdash;it&rsquo;s curious how men will keep by
+them bits of paper that they ought to throw into the fire, and objects
+that they&rsquo;d do well to cast into the Thames! Ah!&mdash;I&rsquo;ve known one case in
+which a mere scrap of a letter hanged a man, and another in which a bit
+of string got a chap fifteen years of the very best&mdash;fact, sir! You
+never know what you may come across during a search.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re going to search his rooms?&rdquo; asked Triffitt.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Something of that sort,&rdquo; replied Davidge. &ldquo;Just a look round, you know,
+and a bit of a peep into his private receptacles.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then&mdash;you&rsquo;re suspecting him in connection with this&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; began
+Triffitt.</p>
+
+<p>Davidge stopped him with a look, and slowly drank off the contents of
+his glass. Then he rose.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll talk of those matters later,&rdquo; he said significantly. &ldquo;Now that my
+gentleman&rsquo;s safely away I think we&rsquo;ll set to work. It&rsquo;ll take a bit of
+time. And first of all, Mr. Triffitt, we&rsquo;ll examine your balcony door&mdash;I
+know enough about these modern flats to know that everything&rsquo;s pretty
+much alike in them as regards fittings, and if your door&rsquo;s easy to open,
+so will the door of the next be. Now we&rsquo;ll just let Jim there go outside
+with his apparatus, and we&rsquo;ll lock your balcony door on him, and then
+see if he finds any difficulty in getting in. To it, Jim!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg&nbsp;196]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Milsey, thus adjured, went out on the balcony with his little case
+and was duly locked out. Within two minutes he opened the door and
+stepped in with a satisfied grin.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Easy as winking!&rdquo; said Mr. Milsey. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s what you might call one of
+your penny plain locks, this&mdash;and t&rsquo;other&rsquo;ll be like it. No difficulty
+about this job, anyway.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then we&rsquo;ll get to work,&rdquo; said Davidge. &ldquo;Mr. Triffitt, I can&rsquo;t ask you
+to come with us, because that wouldn&rsquo;t be according to etiquette. Sit
+you down and read your book and smoke your pipe and drink your drop&mdash;and
+maybe we&rsquo;ll have something to tell you when our job&rsquo;s through.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;ve no fear of interruption?&rdquo; asked Triffitt, who would vastly have
+preferred action to inaction. &ldquo;Supposing&mdash;you know how things do and
+will turn out sometimes&mdash;supposing he came back?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Davidge shook his head and smiled grimly and knowingly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;He&rsquo;ll not come back&mdash;at least, if he did, we should be
+well warned. I&rsquo;ve more than one man at work on this job, Mr. Triffitt,
+and if his lordship changed the course of his arrangements and returned
+this way, one of my chaps would keep him in conversation while another
+hurried up here to give us the office by a few taps on the outer door.
+No!&mdash;we&rsquo;re safe enough. Sit you down and don&rsquo;t bother about us. Come on,
+Jim&mdash;we&rsquo;ll get to it.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg&nbsp;197]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Triffitt tried to follow the detective&rsquo;s advice&mdash;he was just then deep
+in a French novel of the high-crime order, and he picked it up when the
+two men had gone out on the balcony and endeavoured to get interested in
+it. But he speedily discovered that the unravelling of crime on paper
+was nothing like so fascinating as the actual participation in detection
+of crime in real life, and he threw the book aside and gave himself up
+to waiting. What were those two doing in Burchill&rsquo;s rooms? What were
+they finding? What would the result be?</p>
+
+<p>Certainly Davidge and his man took their time. Eight o&rsquo;clock came and
+went&mdash;nine o&rsquo;clock, ten o&rsquo;clock followed and sped into the past, and
+they were still there. It was drawing near to eleven, and they had been
+in those rooms well over three hours, when a slight sound came at
+Triffitt&rsquo;s window and Davidge put his head in, to be presently followed
+by Milsey. Milsey looked as innocent as ever, but it seemed to Triffitt
+that Davidge looked grave.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well?&rdquo; said Triffitt. &ldquo;Any luck?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Davidge drew the curtains over the balcony window before he turned and
+answered this question.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg&nbsp;198]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Triffitt,&rdquo; he said, when at last he faced round, &ldquo;you&rsquo;ll have to
+put us up for the night. After what I&rsquo;ve found, I&rsquo;m not going to lose
+sight, or get out of touch with this man. Now listen, and I&rsquo;ll tell you,
+at any rate, something. Tomorrow morning at ten o&rsquo;clock there&rsquo;s to be a
+sort of informal inquiry at Mr. Halfpenny&rsquo;s office into the matter of a
+will of the date of Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s&mdash;all the parties concerned are
+going to meet there, and I know that this man Burchill is to be present.
+I don&rsquo;t propose to lose sight of him after he returns here tonight
+until he goes to that office&mdash;what happens after he&rsquo;s once there, you
+shall see. So Milsey and I&rsquo;ll just have to trouble you to let me stop
+here for the night. You can go to your bed, of course&mdash;we&rsquo;ll sit up.
+I&rsquo;ll send Milsey out to buy a bit of supper for us&mdash;I dare say he&rsquo;ll
+find something open close by.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No need,&rdquo; Triffitt hastened to say. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve a cold meat pie, uncut, and
+plenty of bread, and cheese. And there&rsquo;s bottled ale, and whisky, and
+I&rsquo;ll get you some supper ready at once. So&rdquo;&mdash;he went on, as he began to
+bustle about&mdash;&ldquo;you did find&mdash;something?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Davidge rubbed his hands and winked first at Milsey and then at
+Triffitt.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wait till tomorrow!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;There&rsquo;ll be strange news for you
+newspaper gentlemen before tomorrow night.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg&nbsp;199]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">yea and nay</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny, face to face with the fact that Barthorpe Herapath meant
+mischief about the will, put on his thinking-cap and gave himself up to
+a deep and serious consideration of the matter. He thought things over
+as he journeyed home to his house in the country; he spent an evening in
+further thought; he was still thinking when he went up to town next
+morning. The result of his cogitations was that after giving certain
+instructions in his office as to the next steps to be taken towards duly
+establishing Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s will, he went round to Barthorpe
+Herapath&rsquo;s office and asked to see him.</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe himself came out of his private room and showed some
+politeness in ushering his caller within. His manner seemed to be
+genuinely frank and unaffected: Mr. Halfpenny was considerably puzzled
+by it. Was Barthorpe playing a part, or was all this real? That, of
+course, must be decided by events: Mr. Halfpenny was not going to lose
+any time in moving towards them, whatever they might turn out to be. He
+accordingly went straight to the point.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg&nbsp;200]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My dear sir,&rdquo; he began, bending confidentially towards Barthorpe, who
+had taken a seat at his desk and was waiting for his visitor to speak,
+&ldquo;you have entered a caveat against the will in the Probate Registry.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have,&rdquo; answered Barthorpe, with candid alacrity. &ldquo;Of course!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You intend to contest the matter?&rdquo; inquired Mr. Halfpenny.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Certainly!&rdquo; replied Barthorpe.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny gathered a good deal from the firm and decisive tone in
+which this answer was made. Clearly there was something in the air of
+which he was wholly ignorant.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You no doubt believe that you have good reason for your course of
+action,&rdquo; he observed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The best reasons,&rdquo; said Barthorpe.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny ruminated a little, silently.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;After all,&rdquo; he said at last, &ldquo;there are only two persons really
+concerned&mdash;your cousin, Miss Wynne, and yourself. I propose to make an
+offer to you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Always willing to be reasonable, Mr. Halfpenny,&rdquo; answered Barthorpe.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very good,&rdquo; said Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;Of course, I see no possible reason
+for doubting the validity of the will. From our side, litigation must go
+on in the usual course. But I have a proposal to make to you. It is
+this&mdash;will you meet your cousin at my office, with all the
+persons&mdash;witnesses to the will, I mean&mdash;and state your objections to the
+will? In short, let us have what we may call a family discussion about
+it&mdash;it may prevent much litigation.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe considered this suggestion for a while.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg&nbsp;201]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What you really mean is that I should come to your offices and tell my
+cousin and you why I am fighting this will,&rdquo; he said eventually. &ldquo;That
+it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Practically&mdash;yes,&rdquo; assented Mr. Halfpenny.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Whom do you propose to have present?&rdquo; asked Barthorpe.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yourself, your cousin, myself, the two witnesses, and, as a friend of
+everybody concerned, Professor Cox-Raythwaite,&rdquo; replied Mr. Halfpenny.
+&ldquo;No one else is necessary.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And you wish me to tell, plainly, why I refuse to believe that the will
+is genuine?&rdquo; asked Barthorpe.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Certainly&mdash;yes,&rdquo; assented Mr. Halfpenny.</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe hesitated, eyeing the old lawyer doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It will be a painful business&mdash;for my cousin,&rdquo; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If&mdash;I really haven&rsquo;t the faintest notion of what you mean!&rdquo; exclaimed
+Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;But if&mdash;if it will be painful for your cousin to hear
+this&mdash;whatever it is&mdash;in private, it would be much more painful for her
+to hear it in public. I gather, of course, that you have some strange
+revelation to make. Surely, it would be most considerate to her to make
+it in what we may call the privacy of the family circle, Cox-Raythwaite
+and myself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t the least objection to Cox-Raythwaite&rsquo;s presence, nor yours,&rdquo;
+said Barthorpe. &ldquo;Very good&mdash;I&rsquo;ll accept your proposal&mdash;it will, as you
+say, save a lot of litigation. Now&mdash;when?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg&nbsp;202]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Today is Tuesday,&rdquo; said Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;What do you say to next Friday
+morning, at ten o&rsquo;clock?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Friday will do,&rdquo; answered Barthorpe. &ldquo;I will be there at ten o&rsquo;clock. I
+shall leave it to you to summon all the parties concerned. By the by,
+have you Burchill&rsquo;s address?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have,&rdquo; replied Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;I will communicate with him at once.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe nodded, rose from his seat, and walked with his visitor
+towards the door of his private room.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Understand, Mr. Halfpenny,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m agreeing to this to oblige
+you. And if the truth is very painful to my cousin, well, as you say,
+it&rsquo;s better for her to hear it in private than in a court of justice.
+All right, then&mdash;Friday at ten.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny went back to his own office, astonished and marvelling.
+What on earth were these revelations which Barthorpe hinted at&mdash;these
+unpleasant truths which would so wound and hurt Peggie Wynne? Could it
+be possible that there really was some mystery about that will of which
+only Barthorpe knew the secret? It was incomprehensible to Mr. Halfpenny
+that any man could be so cool, so apparently cocksure about matters as
+Barthorpe was unless he felt absolutely certain of his own case. What
+that case could be, Mr. Halfpenny could not imagine&mdash;the only thing
+really certain was that Barthorpe seemed resolved on laying it bare when
+Friday came.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg&nbsp;203]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;God bless me!&mdash;it&rsquo;s a most extraordinary complication altogether!&rdquo;
+mused Mr. Halfpenny, once more alone in his own office. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s very
+evident to me that Barthorpe Herapath is absolutely ignorant that he&rsquo;s
+suspected, and that the police are at work on him! What a surprise for
+him if the thing comes to a definite head, and&mdash;but let us see what
+Friday morning brings.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Friday morning brought Barthorpe to Mr. Halfpenny&rsquo;s offices in good
+time. He came alone; a few minutes after his arrival Peggie Wynne,
+nervous and frightened, came, attended by Mr. Tertius and Professor
+Cox-Raythwaite. All these people were at once ushered into Mr.
+Halfpenny&rsquo;s private room, where polite, if constrained, greetings
+passed. At five minutes past ten o&rsquo;clock Mr. Halfpenny looked at
+Barthorpe.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;re only waiting for Mr. Burchill,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;I wrote to him
+after seeing you, and I received a reply from him in which he promised
+to be here at ten this morning. It&rsquo;s now&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But at that moment the door opened to admit Mr. Frank Burchill, who, all
+unconscious of the fact that more than one pair of sharp eyes had
+followed him from his flat to Mr. Halfpenny&rsquo;s office, and that their
+owners were now in the immediate vicinity, came in full of polite
+self-assurance, and executed formal bows while he gracefully apologised
+to Mr. Halfpenny for being late.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg&nbsp;204]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s all right, all right, Mr. Burchill,&rdquo; said the old lawyer, a little
+testy under the last-comer&rsquo;s polite phrases, all of which he thought
+unnecessary. &ldquo;Five or ten minutes won&rsquo;t make any great difference. Take
+a seat, pray: I think if we all sit around this centre table of mine it
+will be more convenient. We can begin at once now, Mr. Barthorpe
+Herapath&mdash;I have already given strict instructions that we are not to be
+disturbed, on any account. My dear&mdash;perhaps you will sit here by
+me?&mdash;Mr. Tertius, you sit next to Miss Wynne&mdash;Professor&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny&rsquo;s dispositions of his guests placed Peggie and her two
+companions on one side of a round table; Barthorpe and Burchill at the
+other&mdash;Mr. Halfpenny himself sat at the head. And as soon as he had
+taken his own seat, he looked at Barthorpe.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This, of course,&rdquo; he began, &ldquo;is a quite informal meeting. We are here,
+as I understand matters, to hear why you, Mr. Barthorpe Herapath, object
+to your late uncle&rsquo;s will, and why you intend to dispute it. So I
+suppose the next thing to do will be to ask you to state your grounds.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Barthorpe shook his head with a decisive motion.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;Not at all! The first thing to do, Mr. Halfpenny, in
+my opinion, is to hear what is to be said in favour of the will. The
+will itself, I take it, is in your possession. I have seen it&mdash;I mean, I
+have seen the document which purports to be a will of the late Jacob
+Herapath&mdash;so I admit its existence. Two persons are named on that
+document as witnesses: Mr. Tertius, Mr. Burchill. They are both present
+now; at your request. I submit that the proper procedure is to question
+them both as to the circumstances under which this alleged will was
+made.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg&nbsp;205]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have no objections to that,&rdquo; answered Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;I have no
+objection&mdash;neither, I am sure, has Miss Wynne&mdash;to anything you propose.
+Well, we take it for granted that this document exists&mdash;it is, of
+course, in my safe keeping. Every person has seen it, one time or
+another. We have here the two gentlemen who witnessed Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s
+signature and each other&rsquo;s. So I will first ask the elder of the two to
+tell us what he recollects of the matter. Now, Mr. Tertius?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius, who since his arrival had shown as much nervousness as
+would probably have signalised his appearance in a witness-box, started
+at this direct appeal.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&mdash;er, wish me&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; he began, with an almost blank stare at Mr.
+Halfpenny. &ldquo;You want me to&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come, come!&rdquo; said Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;This is as I have already said, an
+informal gathering. We needn&rsquo;t have any set forms or cut-and-dried
+procedure. I want you&mdash;we all want you&mdash;to tell us what you remember
+about the making of Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s will. Tell us in your own way, in
+whatever terms you like. Then we shall hear what your fellow-witness has
+to say.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Perhaps you&rsquo;ll let me suggest something,&rdquo; broke in Barthorpe, who had
+obviously been thinking matters over. &ldquo;Lay the alleged will on the table
+before you, Mr. Halfpenny&mdash;question the two opposed witnesses on it.
+That will simplify things.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny considered this proposition for a moment or two; then
+having whispered to Peggie <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg&nbsp;206]</a></span>and received her assent, he went across to a
+safe and presently returned with the will, which he placed on a
+writing-pad that lay in front of him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, Mr. Tertius,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Look at this will, which purports to have
+been made on the eighteenth day of April last. I understand that Jacob
+Herapath called you into his study on the evening of that day and told
+you that he wanted you and Mr. Burchill, his secretary, to witness his
+signature to a will which he had made&mdash;had written out himself. I
+understand also that you did witness his signature, attached your own,
+in Mr. Herapath&rsquo;s presence and Mr. Burchill&rsquo;s presence, and that Mr.
+Burchill&rsquo;s signature was attached under the same conditions. Am I right
+in all this?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Quite right,&rdquo; replied Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;Quite!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is this the document which Jacob Herapath produced?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is&mdash;certainly.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Was it all drawn out then?&mdash;I am putting these questions to you quite
+informally.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was all written out, except the signatures. Jacob showed us that it
+was so written, though he did not allow us to see the wording. But he
+showed us plainly that there was nothing to do but to sign. Then he laid
+it on the desk, covered most of the sheet of paper with a piece of
+blotting paper and signed his name in our presence&mdash;I stood on one side
+of him, Mr. Burchill on the other. Then Mr. Burchill signed in his
+place&mdash;beneath mine.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And this,&rdquo; asked Mr. Halfpenny, pointing to the will, &ldquo;this is your
+signature?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg&nbsp;207]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Most certainly!&rdquo; answered Mr. Tertius.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And this,&rdquo; continued Mr. Halfpenny, &ldquo;is Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s?&mdash;and this Mr.
+Burchill&rsquo;s? You have no doubt about it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No more than that I see and hear you,&rdquo; replied Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;I have no
+doubt.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny turned from Mr. Tertius to Barthorpe Herapath. But
+Barthorpe&rsquo;s face just then revealed nothing. Therefore the old lawyer
+turned towards Burchill. And suddenly a sharp idea struck him. He would
+settle one point to his own satisfaction at once, by one direct
+question. And so he&mdash;as it were by impulse&mdash;thrust the will before and
+beneath Burchill&rsquo;s eyes, and placed his finger against the third
+signature.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Burchill,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;is that your writing?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Burchill, calm and self-possessed, glanced at the place which Mr.
+Halfpenny indicated, and then lifted his eyes, half sadly, half
+deprecatingly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No!&rdquo; he replied, with a little shake of the head;&ldquo;No, Mr. Halfpenny, it
+is not!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg&nbsp;208]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">the accusation</p>
+
+<p>The old lawyer, who had bent forward across the table in speaking to
+Burchill, pulled himself up sharply on receiving this answer, and for a
+second or two stared with a keen, searching gaze at the man he had
+questioned, who, on his part, returned the stare with calm assurance. A
+deep silence had fallen on the room; nothing broke it until Professor
+Cox-Raythwaite suddenly began to tap the table with the ends of his
+fingers. The sound roused Mr. Halfpenny to speech and action. He bent
+forward again towards Burchill, once more laying a hand on the will.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is not your signature?&rdquo; he asked quietly.</p>
+
+<p>Burchill shook his head&mdash;this time with a gesture of something very like
+contempt.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is not!&rdquo; he answered.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did you see the late Jacob Herapath write&mdash;that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I did not!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did you see Mr. Tertius write&mdash;that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I did not!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Have you ever seen this will, this document, before?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg&nbsp;209]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny drew the will towards himself with an impatient movement
+and began to replace it in the large envelope from which it had been
+taken.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In short, you never assisted at the execution of this document&mdash;never
+saw Jacob Herapath make any will&mdash;never witnessed any signature of his
+to this?&rdquo; he said testily. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s what you really say&mdash;what you
+affirm?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just so,&rdquo; replied Burchill. &ldquo;You apprehend me exactly.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yet you have just heard what Mr. Tertius says! What do you say to that,
+Mr. Burchill?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I say nothing to that, Mr. Halfpenny. I have nothing to do with what
+Mr. Tertius says. I have answered your questions.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Tertius says that he and you saw Jacob Herapath sign that document,
+saw each other sign it! What you say now gives Mr. Tertius the direct
+lie, and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pardon me, Mr. Halfpenny,&rdquo; interrupted Burchill quietly. &ldquo;Mr. Tertius
+may be under some strange misapprehension; Mr. Tertius may be suffering
+from some curious hallucination. What I say is&mdash;I did not see the late
+Jacob Herapath sign that paper; I did not sign it myself; I did not see
+Mr. Tertius sign it; I have never seen it before!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny made a little snorting sound, got up from his chair,
+picked up the envelope which contained the will, walked over to his
+safe, deposited the envelope in some inner receptacle, came back,
+produced his snuff-box, took a hearty pinch of its <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg&nbsp;210]</a></span>contents, snorted
+again, and looked hard at Barthorpe.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t see the least use in going on with this!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We have
+heard what Mr. Tertius, as one witness, says; we have heard what Mr.
+Frank Burchill, as the other witness, says. Mr. Tertius says that he saw
+the will executed in Mr. Burchill&rsquo;s presence; Mr. Burchill denies that
+in the fullest and most unqualified fashion. Why waste more time? We had
+better separate.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Barthorpe laughed, maliciously.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Scarcely!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You brought us here. It was your own proposal. I
+assented. And now that we are here, and you have heard&mdash;what you have
+heard&mdash;I&rsquo;m going to have my say. You have gone, all along, Mr.
+Halfpenny, on the assumption that the piece of paper which you have just
+replaced in your safe is a genuine will. That&rsquo;s what you&rsquo;ve said&mdash;I
+believe it&rsquo;s what you say now. I don&rsquo;t say so!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What do you say it is, then?&rdquo; demanded Mr. Halfpenny.</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe slightly lowered his voice.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I say it&rsquo;s a forgery!&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;That, I hope, is plain language. A
+forgery&mdash;from the first word to its last.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; exclaimed Mr. Halfpenny, a little sneeringly. &ldquo;And who&rsquo;s the
+forger, pray?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg&nbsp;211]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That man, there!&rdquo; said Barthorpe, suddenly pointing to Mr. Tertius.
+&ldquo;He&rsquo;s the forger! I accuse him to his face of forging every word, every
+letter of it from the first stroke to the final one. And I&rsquo;ll give you
+enough evidence to prove it&mdash;enough evidence, at any rate, to prove it
+to any reasonable man or before a judge and jury. Forgery, I tell you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny sat down again and became very calm and judicial. And he
+had at once to restrain Peggie Wynne, who during Barthorpe&rsquo;s last speech
+had manifested signs of a desire to speak, and had begun to produce a
+sealed packet from her muff.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wait, my dear,&rdquo; said Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;Do not speak just now&mdash;you shall
+have an opportunity later&mdash;leave this to me at present. So you say you
+can prove that this will is a forgery, Mr. Barthorpe Herapath?&rdquo; he
+continued, turning to the other side of the table. &ldquo;Very well&mdash;since I
+suggested that you should come here, you shall certainly have the
+opportunity. But just allow me to ask Mr. Tertius a question&mdash;Tertius,
+you have heard what Mr. Frank Burchill has just said?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have!&rdquo; replied Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;And&mdash;I am amazed!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You stand by what you said yourself? You gave us a perfectly truthful
+account of the execution of the will?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I stand by every word I said. I gave you&mdash;will give it again,
+anywhere!&mdash;a perfectly truthful account of the circumstances under which
+the will was signed and witnessed. I have made no mistakes&mdash;I am under
+no hallucination. I am&mdash;astonished!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny turned to Barthorpe with a wave of the hand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg&nbsp;212]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We are at your disposal, Mr. Barthorpe Herapath,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I leave
+the rest of these proceedings to you. You have openly and unqualifiedly
+accused Mr. Tertius of forging the will which we have all seen, and have
+said you can prove your accusations. Perhaps you&rsquo;d better do it. Mind
+you!&rdquo; he added, with a sudden heightening of tone, &ldquo;mind you, I&rsquo;m not
+asking you to prove anything. But if I know Tertius&mdash;and I think I
+do&mdash;he won&rsquo;t object to your saying anything you like&mdash;we shall, perhaps,
+get at the truth by way of what you say. So&mdash;say on!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re very kind,&rdquo; retorted Barthorpe. &ldquo;I shall say on! But&mdash;I warned
+you&mdash;what I&rsquo;ve got to say will give a good deal of pain to my cousin
+there. It would have been far better if you&rsquo;d kept her out of
+this&mdash;still, she&rsquo;d have had to hear it sooner or later in a court of
+justice&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It strikes me we shall have to hear a good deal in a court of
+justice&mdash;as you say, sooner or later,&rdquo; interrupted Mr. Halfpenny, dryly.
+&ldquo;So I don&rsquo;t think you need spare Miss Wynne. I should advise you to go
+on, and let us become acquainted with what you&rsquo;ve got to tell us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Barthorpe!&rdquo; said Peggie, &ldquo;I do not mind what pain you give me&mdash;you
+can&rsquo;t give me much more than I&rsquo;ve already been given this morning. But I
+wish&rdquo;&mdash;she turned appealingly to Mr. Halfpenny and again began to draw
+the sealed packet from her muff&mdash;&ldquo;I do wish, Mr. Halfpenny, you&rsquo;d let me
+say something before&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg&nbsp;213]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Say nothing, my dear, at present,&rdquo; commanded Mr. Halfpenny, firmly.
+&ldquo;Allow Mr. Barthorpe Herapath to have his say. Now, sir!&rdquo; he went on,
+with a motion of his hand towards the younger solicitor. &ldquo;Pray let us
+hear you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In my own fashion,&rdquo; retorted Barthorpe. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re not a judge, you know.
+Very good&mdash;if I give pain to you, Peggie, it&rsquo;s not my fault. Now, Mr.
+Halfpenny,&rdquo; he continued, turning and pointing contemptuously to Mr.
+Tertius, &ldquo;as this is wholly informal, I&rsquo;ll begin with an informal yet
+pertinent question, to you. Do you know who that man really is?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I believe that gentleman, sir, to be Mr. John Christopher Tertius, and
+my very good and much-esteemed friend,&rdquo; replied Mr. Halfpenny, with
+asperity.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pshaw!&rdquo; sneered Barthorpe. He turned to Professor Cox-Raythwaite. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll
+put the same question to you?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Do you know who he is?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And I give you the same answer, sir,&rdquo; answered the professor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No doubt!&rdquo; said Barthorpe, still sneeringly. &ldquo;The fact is, neither of
+you know who he is. So I&rsquo;ll tell you. He&rsquo;s an ex-convict. He served a
+term of penal servitude for forgery&mdash;forgery, do you hear? And his real
+name is not Tertius. What it is, and who he really is, and all about
+him, I&rsquo;m going to tell you. Forger&mdash;ex-convict&mdash;get that into your
+minds, all of you. For it&rsquo;s true!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius, who had started visibly as Barthorpe rapped out the first
+of his accusations, and had grown <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg&nbsp;214]</a></span>paler as they went on, quietly rose
+from his chair.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Before this goes further, Halfpenny,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I should like to have a
+word in private with Miss Wynne. Afterwards&mdash;and I shan&rsquo;t detain her
+more than a moment&mdash;I shall have no objection to hearing anything that
+Mr. Barthorpe Herapath has to say. My dear!&mdash;step this way with me a
+moment, I beg.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny&rsquo;s private room was an apartment of considerable size,
+having in it two large recessed windows. Into one of these Mr. Tertius
+led Peggie, and there he spoke a few quiet words to her. Barthorpe
+Herapath affected to take no notice, but the other men, watching them
+closely, saw the girl start at something which Mr. Tertius said. But she
+instantly regained her self-possession and composure, and when she came
+back to the table her face, though pale, was firm and resolute. And
+Barthorpe looked at her then, and his voice, when he spoke again, was
+less aggressive and more civil.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s not to my taste to bring unpleasant family scandals into public
+notice,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and that&rsquo;s why I rather welcomed your proposal that
+we should discuss this affair in private, Mr. Halfpenny. And now for
+what I&rsquo;ve got to tell you. I shall have to go back a long way in our
+family history. My late uncle, Jacob Herapath, was the eldest of the
+three children of his father, Matthew Herapath, who was a medical
+practitioner at Granchester in Yorkshire&mdash;a small town on the Yorkshire
+and Lancashire border. The three children were Jacob, Richard, and
+Susan. With the main outlines of Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s career I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg&nbsp;215]</a></span>believe we
+are all fairly well acquainted. He came to London as a youth, and he
+prospered, and became what we know him to have been. Richard, my father,
+went out to Canada, when he was very young, settled there, and there he
+died.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now we come to Susan, the only daughter. Susan Herapath, at the age of
+twenty, married a man named Wynne&mdash;Arthur John Wynne, who at that time
+was about twenty-five years of age, was the secretary and treasurer of a
+recently formed railway&mdash;a sort of branch railway on the coast, which
+had its head office at Southampton, a coast town. In Southampton, this
+Arthur John Wynne and his wife settled down. At the end of a year their
+first child was born&mdash;my cousin Margaret, who is here with us. When
+she&mdash;I am putting all this as briefly as I can&mdash;when she was about
+eighteen months old a sad affair happened. Wynne, who had been living in
+a style very much above his position, was suddenly arrested on a charge
+of forgery. Investigations proved that he had executed a number of most
+skilful and clever forgeries, by which he had defrauded his employers of
+a large&mdash;a very large&mdash;amount of money. He was sent for trial to the
+assizes at Lancaster, he was found guilty, and he was sentenced to seven
+years&rsquo; penal servitude. And almost at once after the trial his wife
+died.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg&nbsp;216]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here my late uncle, Jacob Herapath, came forward. He went north,
+assumed possession and guardianship of the child, and took her away from
+Southampton. He took her into Buckinghamshire and there placed her in
+the care of some people named Bristowe, who were farmers near Aylesbury
+and whom he knew very well. In the care of Mrs. Bristowe, the child
+remained until she was between six and seven years old. Then she was
+removed to Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s own house in Portman Square, where she has
+remained ever since. My cousin, I believe, has a very accurate
+recollection of her residence with the Bristowes, and she will remember
+being brought from Buckinghamshire to London at the time I have spoken
+of.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe paused for a moment and looked at Peggie. But Peggie, who was
+listening intently with downcast head, made no remark, and he presently
+continued.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, not so very long after that&mdash;I mean, after the child was brought
+to Portman Square&mdash;another person came to the house as a permanent
+resident. His name was given to the servants as Mr. Tertius. The
+conditions of his residence were somewhat peculiar. He had rooms of his
+own; he did as he liked. Sometimes he joined Jacob Herapath at meals;
+sometimes he did not. There was an air of mystery about him. What was
+it? I will tell you in a word&mdash;the mystery or its secret, was this&mdash;the
+man Tertius, who sits there now, was in reality the girl&rsquo;s father! He
+was Arthur John Wynne, the ex-convict&mdash;the clever forger!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg&nbsp;217]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">cold steel</p>
+
+<p>The two men who formed what one may call the alien and impartial
+audience at that table were mutually and similarly impressed by a
+certain feature of Barthorpe Herapath&rsquo;s speech&mdash;its exceeding
+malevolence. As he went on from sentence to sentence, his eyes
+continually turned to Mr. Tertius, who sat, composed and impassive,
+listening, and in them was a gleam which could not be mistaken&mdash;the
+gleam of bitter, personal dislike. Mr. Halfpenny and Professor
+Cox-Raythwaite both saw that look and drew their own conclusions, and
+when Barthorpe spat out his last words, the man of science turned to the
+man of law and muttered a sharp sentence in Latin which no one else
+caught. And Mr. Halfpenny nodded and muttered a word or two back before
+he turned to Barthorpe.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg&nbsp;218]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Even supposing&mdash;mind, I only say supposing&mdash;even supposing you are
+correct in all you say&mdash;and I don&rsquo;t know that you are,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;what
+you have put before us does nothing to prove that the will which we have
+just inspected is not what we believe it to be&mdash;we, at any rate&mdash;the
+valid will of Jacob Herapath. You know as well as I do that you&rsquo;d have
+to give stronger grounds than that before a judge and jury.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll give you my grounds,&rdquo; answered Barthorpe eagerly. He bent over the
+table in his eagerness, and the old lawyer suddenly realized that
+Barthorpe genuinely believed himself to be in the right. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll give you
+my grounds without reserve. Consider them&mdash;I&rsquo;ll check them off, point by
+point&mdash;you can follow them:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;First. It was well known&mdash;to me, at any rate, that my uncle Jacob
+Herapath, had never made a will.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Second. Is it not probable that if he wanted to make a will he would
+have employed me, who had acted as his solicitor for fifteen years?</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Third. I had a conversation with him about making a will just under a
+year ago, and he then said he&rsquo;d have it done, and he mentioned that he
+should divide his estate equally between me and my cousin there.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Fourth. Mr. Burchill here absolutely denies all knowledge of this
+alleged will.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Fifth. My uncle&rsquo;s handwriting, as you all know, was exceedingly plain
+and very easy to imitate. Burchill&rsquo;s handwriting is similarly plain&mdash;of
+the copperplate sort&mdash;and just as easy to imitate.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sixth. That man across there is an expert forger! I have the account of
+his trial at Lancaster Assizes&mdash;the evidence shows that his work was
+most expert. Is it likely that his hand should have lost its
+cunning&mdash;even after several years?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg&nbsp;219]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Seventh. That man there had every opportunity of forging this will.
+With his experience and knowledge it would be a simple matter to him. He
+did it with the idea of getting everything into the hands of his own
+daughter, of defrauding me of my just rights. Since my uncle&rsquo;s death he
+has made two attempts to see Burchill privately&mdash;why? To square him, of
+course! And&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius, who had been gazing at the table while Barthorpe went
+through these points, suddenly lifted his head and looked at Mr.
+Halfpenny. His usual nervousness seemed to have left him, and there was
+something very like a smile of contempt about his lips when he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think, Halfpenny,&rdquo; he said quietly, &ldquo;I really think it is time all
+this extraordinary farce&mdash;for it is nothing less!&mdash;came to an end. May I
+be permitted to ask Mr. Barthorpe Herapath a few questions?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So far as I am concerned, as many as you please, Tertius,&rdquo; replied Mr.
+Halfpenny. &ldquo;Whether he&rsquo;ll answer them or not is another matter. He ought
+to.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I shall answer them if I please, and I shall not answer them if I don&rsquo;t
+want to,&rdquo; said Barthorpe sullenly. &ldquo;You can put them, anyway. But
+they&rsquo;ll make no difference&mdash;I know what I&rsquo;m talking about.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg&nbsp;220]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So do I,&rdquo; said Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;And really, as we come here to get at the
+truth, it will be all the better for everybody concerned if you do
+answer my questions. Now&mdash;you say I am in reality Arthur Wynne, the
+father of your cousin, the brother-in-law of Jacob Herapath. What you
+have said about Arthur John Wynne is unfortunately only too true. It is
+true that he erred and was punished&mdash;severely. In due course he went to
+Portland. I want to ask you what became of him afterwards?&mdash;you say you
+have full knowledge.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You mean, what became of you afterwards,&rdquo; sneered Barthorpe. &ldquo;I know
+when you left Portland. You left it for London&mdash;and you came to London
+to be sheltered, under your assumed name, by Jacob Herapath.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No more than that?&rdquo; asked Mr. Tertius.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s enough,&rdquo; answered Barthorpe. &ldquo;You left Portland in April, 1897;
+you came to London when you were discharged; in June of that year you&rsquo;d
+taken up your residence under Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s roof. And it&rsquo;s no use
+your trying to bluff me&mdash;I&rsquo;ve traced your movements!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;With the aid, no doubt, of Mr. Burchill there,&rdquo; observed Mr. Tertius,
+dryly. &ldquo;But&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Burchill drew himself up.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sir!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;That is an unwarrantable assumption, and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg&nbsp;222]</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg&nbsp;221]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Unwarrantable assumptions, Mr. Burchill, appear to be present in great
+quantity,&rdquo; interrupted Mr. Tertius, with an air of defiance which
+surprised everybody. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you interrupt me, sir!&mdash;I&rsquo;ll deal with you
+before long in a way that will astonish you. Now, Mr. Barthorpe
+Herapath,&rdquo; he went on, turning to that person with determination, &ldquo;I
+will astonish you somewhat, for I honestly believe you really have some
+belief in what you say. I am not Arthur John Wynne. I am what I have
+always been&mdash;John Christopher Tertius, as a considerable number of
+people in this town can prove. But I knew Arthur John Wynne. When he
+left Portland he came to me here in London&mdash;at the suggestion of Jacob
+Herapath. I then lived in Bloomsbury&mdash;I had recently lost my wife. I
+took Wynne to live with me. But he had not long to live. If you had
+searched into matters more deeply, you would have found that he got his
+discharge earlier than he would have done in the usual course, because
+of his health. As a matter of fact, he was very ill when he came to me,
+and he died six weeks after his arrival at my house. He is buried in the
+churchyard of the village from which he originally came&mdash;in Wales&mdash;and
+you can inspect all the documents relating to his death, and see his
+grave if you care to. After his death, for reasons into which I need not
+go, I went to live with Jacob Herapath. It was his great desire&mdash;and
+mine&mdash;that Wynne&rsquo;s daughter, your cousin, should never know her father&rsquo;s
+sad history. But for you she never would have known it! And&mdash;that is a
+plain answer to what you have had to allege against me. Now, sir, let me
+ask you a plain question. Who invented this cock-and-bull story? You
+don&rsquo;t reply&mdash;readily? Shall I assist you by a suggestion? Was it that
+man who sits by you&mdash;Burchill? For Burchill knows that he has lied
+vilely and shamelessly this morning&mdash;Burchill knows that he did see
+Jacob Herapath sign that will&mdash;Burchill knows that that will was duly
+witnessed by himself and by me in the presence of each other and of the
+testator! God bless my soul!&rdquo; exclaimed Mr. Tertius, thumping the table
+vehemently. &ldquo;Why, man alive, your cousin Margaret has a document here
+which proves that that will is all right&mdash;a document written by Jacob
+Herapath himself! Bring it out, my dear&mdash;confound these men with an
+indisputable proof!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But before Peggie could draw the packet from her muff, Burchill had
+risen and was showing signs of retreat. And Barthorpe, now pale with
+anger and perplexity, had risen too&mdash;and he was looking at Burchill.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny looked at both men. Then he pointed to their chairs.
+&ldquo;Hadn&rsquo;t you better sit down again?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It seems to me that we&rsquo;re
+just arriving at the most interesting stage of these proceedings.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Burchill stepped towards the door.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I do not propose to stay in company in which I am ruthlessly insulted,&rdquo;
+he said. &ldquo;It is, of course, a question of my word against Mr. Tertius&rsquo;s.
+We shall see. As for the present, I do.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Stop!&rdquo; said Barthorpe. He moved towards Burchill, motioning him towards
+the window in which Peggie and Mr. Tertius had spoken together. &ldquo;Here&mdash;a
+word with you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Burchill made for the door, and Mr. Halfpenny nudged Professor
+Cox-Raythwaite.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I say&mdash;stop!&rdquo; exclaimed Barthorpe. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s some explanation&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He was about to lay a hand on the door when Mr. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg&nbsp;223]</a></span>Halfpenny touched a
+bell which stood in front of him on the table. And at its sharp sound
+the door opened from without, and Burchill fell back at what he
+saw&mdash;fell back upon Barthorpe, who looked past him, and started in his
+turn.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Great Scot!&rdquo; said Barthorpe. &ldquo;Police!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Davidge came quickly and quietly in&mdash;three other men with him. And in
+the room from which they emerged Barthorpe saw more men, many more men,
+and with them an eager, excited face which he somehow recognized&mdash;the
+face of the little <i>Argus</i> reporter who had asked him and Selwood for
+news on the morning after Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s murder.</p>
+
+<p>But Barthorpe had no time to waste thoughts on Triffitt. He suddenly
+became alive to the fact that two exceedingly strong men had seized his
+arms; that two others had similarly seized Burchill. The pallor died out
+of his face and gave place to a dull glow of anger.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, then?&rdquo; he growled. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s all this!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The same for both of you, Mr. Herapath,&rdquo; answered Davidge, cheerfully
+and in business-like fashion. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll charge both you and Mr. Burchill
+formally when we&rsquo;ve got you to the station. You&rsquo;re both under arrest,
+you know. And I may as well warn you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nonsense!&rdquo; exclaimed Barthorpe. &ldquo;Arrest!&mdash;on what charge?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Charge will be the same for both,&rdquo; answered Davidge coolly. &ldquo;The murder
+of Jacob Herapath.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A dead silence fell on the room. Then Peggie <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg&nbsp;224]</a></span>Wynne cried out, and
+Barthorpe suddenly made a spring at Burchill.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You villain!&rdquo; he said in a low concentrated voice. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve done me, you
+devil! Let me get my hands on&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The other men, Triffitt on their heels, came bustling into the room,
+obedient to Davidge&rsquo;s lifted finger.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Put the handcuffs on both of &rsquo;em,&rdquo; commanded Davidge. &ldquo;Can&rsquo;t take any
+chances, Mr. Herapath, if you lose your temper&mdash;the other gentleman&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was at that moment that the other gentleman took his chance. While
+Barthorpe Herapath had foolishly allowed himself to become warm and
+excited, Burchill had remained cool and watchful and calculating. And
+now in the slight diversion made by the entrance of the other
+detectives, he suddenly and adroitly threw off the grasp of the men who
+held him, darted through the open door on to the stairs, and had
+vanished before Davidge could cry out. Davidge darted too, the other
+police darted, Mr. Halfpenny smote his bell and shouted to his clerks.
+But the clerks were downstairs, out of hearing, and the police were
+fleshy men, slow of movement, while Burchill was slippery as an eel and
+agile as an athlete. Moreover, Burchill, during his secretaryship to
+Jacob Herapath, had constantly visited Mr. Halfpenny&rsquo;s office, and was
+as well acquainted with its ins and outs as its tenant; he knew where,
+in those dark stairs there was a side stair which led to a private door
+in a neighbouring alley. And while the pursuers blundered this way and
+that, he calmly slipped out to
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg&nbsp;225]</a></span>
+
+freedom, and, in a couple of minutes was mingling with the crowds in a busy
+thoroughfare, safe for that time.</p>
+
+<p>Then Davidge, cursing his men and his luck, took Barthorpe Herapath
+away, and Triffitt rushed headlong to Fleet Street, seething with
+excitement and brimming with news.</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg&nbsp;226]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">professional analysis</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Argus</i> came out in great style next morning, and it and Triffitt
+continued to give its vast circle of readers a similar feast of
+excitement for a good ten days. Triffitt, in fact, went almost foodless
+and sleepless; there was so much to do. To begin with, there was the
+daily hue and cry after Burchill, who had disappeared as completely as
+if his familiar evil spirits had carried him bodily away from the very
+door of Halfpenny and Farthing&rsquo;s office. Then there was the bringing up
+of Barthorpe Herapath before the magistrate at Bow Street, and the
+proceedings at the adjourned coroner&rsquo;s inquest. It was not until the
+tenth day that anything like a breathing space came. But the position of
+affairs on that tenth day was a fairly clear one. The coroner&rsquo;s jury had
+returned a verdict of wilful murder against Barthorpe Herapath and Frank
+Burchill; the magistrate had committed Barthorpe for trial; the police
+were still hunting high and low for Burchill. And there was scarcely a
+soul who had heard the evidence before the coroner and the magistrate
+who did not believe that both the suspected men were guilty and that
+both&mdash;when Burchill had been caught&mdash;would ere long stand in the Old
+Bailey dock and eventually hear themselves sentenced to the scaffold.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg&nbsp;227]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>One man, however, believed nothing of the sort, and that man was
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite. His big, burly form had been very much in
+evidence at all the proceedings before coroner and magistrate. He had
+followed every scrap of testimony with the most scrupulous care; he had
+made notes from time to time; he had given up his leisure moments, and
+stolen some from his proper pursuits, to a deep consideration of the
+case as presented by the police. And on the afternoon which saw
+Barthorpe committed to take his trial, he went away from Bow Street,
+alone, thinking more deeply than ever. He walked home to his house in
+Endsleigh Gardens, head bent, hands clasped behind his big back, the
+very incarnation of deep and ponderous musing. He shut himself in his
+study; he threw himself into his easy chair before his hearth; he
+remained smoking infinite tobacco, staring into vacancy, until his
+dinner-bell rang. He roused himself to eat and drink; then he went out
+into the street, bought all the evening newspapers he could lay hands
+on, and, hailing a taxi-cab, drove to Portman Square.</p>
+
+<p>Peggie, Mr. Tertius, and Selwood had just dined; they were sitting in a
+quiet little parlour, silent and melancholy. The disgrace of Barthorpe&rsquo;s
+arrest, of the revelations before coroner and magistrate, of his
+committal on the capital charge, had reduced Peggie to a state of
+intense misery; the two men felt hopelessly unable to give her any
+comfort. To both, the entrance of Cox-Raythwaite came as a positive
+relief.</p>
+
+<p>Cox-Raythwaite, shown into the presence of these <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg&nbsp;228]</a></span>three, closed the door
+in a fashion which showed that he did not wish to be disturbed, came
+silently across the room, and drew a chair into the midst of the
+disconsolate group. His glance round commanded attention.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, my friends,&rdquo; he said, plunging straight into his subject, &ldquo;if we
+don&rsquo;t wish to see Barthorpe hanged, we&rsquo;ve just got to stir ourselves!
+I&rsquo;ve come here to begin the stirring.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peggie looked up with a sudden heightening of colour. Mr. Tertius slowly
+shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pitiable!&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;Pitiable, most pitiable! But the evidence, my
+dear Cox-Raythwaite, the evidence! I only wish&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been listening to all the evidence that could be brought before
+coroner&rsquo;s jury and magistrate in police court,&rdquo; broke in the Professor.
+&ldquo;Listening with all my ears until I know every scrap of it by heart. And
+for four solid hours this afternoon I&rsquo;ve been analysing it. I&rsquo;m going to
+analyse it to you&mdash;and then I&rsquo;ll show you why it doesn&rsquo;t satisfy me.
+Give me your close attention, all of you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He drew a little table to his elbow, laid his bundle of papers upon it,
+and began to talk, checking off his points on the tips of his big,
+chemical-stained fingers.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;we&rsquo;ll just go through the evidence which has been
+brought against these two men, Barthorpe and Burchill, which evidence
+has resulted in Barthorpe being committed for trial and in the police&rsquo;s
+increased anxiety to lay hold of Burchill. The police theory, after all,
+is a very simple one&mdash;let&rsquo;s take it and their evidence point by point.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg&nbsp;229]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>&ldquo;1. The police say that Jacob Herapath came to his death as
+the result of a conspiracy between his nephew Barthorpe
+Herapath and Frank Burchill.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;2. They say that the proof that that conspiracy existed is
+found in certain documents discovered by Davidge at Burchill&rsquo;s
+flat, in which documents Barthorpe covenants to pay Burchill
+ten per cent. of the value of the Herapath property if and when
+he, Barthorpe, comes into it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;3. The police argue that this conspiracy to murder Jacob
+Herapath and upset the will was in existence before November
+12th&mdash;in other words that the idea of upsetting the will came
+first, and that the murder arose out of it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;4. In support of this they have proved that Barthorpe was in
+close touch with Burchill as soon as the murder was
+committed&mdash;afternoon of the same day, at any rate&mdash;and
+therefore presumably had been in close touch with him
+previously.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;5. They have proved to the full a certain matter about which
+there is no doubt&mdash;that Barthorpe was at the estate office
+about the time at which, according to medical evidence, his
+uncle was murdered, that he subsequently put on his uncle&rsquo;s
+coat and hat and visited this house, and afterwards returned to
+the estate office. That, I say, is certain&mdash;and it is the most
+damning thing against Barthorpe.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg&nbsp;230]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;6. According to the police, then, Barthorpe was the actual
+murderer, and Burchill was an accessory before the fact. There
+is no evidence that Burchill was near the estate office that
+night. But that, of course, doesn&rsquo;t matter&mdash;if, as the police
+suggest, there is evidence that the conspiracy to kill Jacob
+Herapath existed before November 12th, then it doesn&rsquo;t matter
+at all whether Burchill took an active part in it or not&mdash;he&rsquo;s
+guilty as accessory.&rdquo;</p></div>
+
+<p>The Professor here paused and smote his bundle of papers. Then he lifted
+and wagged one of his great fingers.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;But&mdash;but&mdash;always a but! And the but in this case
+is a mighty one. It&rsquo;s this&mdash;did that conspiracy exist before November
+12th? Did it&mdash;did it? It&rsquo;s a great point&mdash;it&rsquo;s a great point. Now, we
+all know that this morning, before he was committed, Barthorpe, much
+against the wishes of his legal advisers, insisted, forcibly insisted,
+on making a statement. It&rsquo;s in the evening papers here, verbatim. I&rsquo;ll
+read it to you carefully&mdash;you heard him, all of you, but I want you to
+hear it again, read slowly. Consider it&mdash;think of it carefully&mdash;remember
+the circumstances under which it&rsquo;s made!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He turned to the table, selected a newspaper, and read:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg&nbsp;231]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>&ldquo;&lsquo;The accused, having insisted, in spite of evident strong
+dissuasion from his counsel, upon making a statement, said: &ldquo;I
+wish to tell the plain and absolute truth about my concern with
+this affair. I have heard the evidence given by various
+witnesses as to my financial position. That evidence is more or
+less true. I lost a lot of money last winter in betting and
+gambling. I was not aware that my position was known to my
+uncle until one of these witnesses revealed that my uncle had
+been employing private inquiry agents to find it out. I was
+meaning, when his death occurred, to make a clean breast to
+him. I was on the best of terms with him&mdash;whatever he may have
+known, it made no difference that I ever noticed in his
+behaviour to me. I was not aware that my uncle had made a will.
+He never mentioned it to me. About a year ago, there was some
+joking conversation between us about making a will, and I said
+to him that he ought to do it, and give me the job, and he
+replied, laughingly, that he supposed he would have to, some
+time. I solemnly declare that on November 12th I hadn&rsquo;t the
+ghost of a notion that he had made a will.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg&nbsp;232]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;&ldquo;On November 12th last, about five o&rsquo;clock in the afternoon,
+I received a note from my uncle, asking me to meet him at his
+estate office, at midnight. I had often met him there at that
+time&mdash;there was nothing unusual about such an appointment. I
+went there, of course&mdash;I walked there from my flat in the
+Adelphi. I noticed when I got there that my uncle&rsquo;s brougham
+was being slowly driven round the square across the road. The
+outer door of the office was slightly open. I was surprised.
+The usual thing when I made late calls was for me to ring a
+bell which sounded in my uncle&rsquo;s private room, and he then came
+and admitted me. I went in, and down the hall, and I then saw
+that the door of his room was also open. The electric light was
+burning. I went in. I at once saw my uncle&mdash;he was lying
+between the desk and the hearth, quite dead. There was a
+revolver lying near. I touched his hand and found it was quite
+warm.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;&ldquo;I looked round, and seeing no sign of any struggle, I
+concluded that my uncle had shot himself. I noticed that his
+keys were lying on the desk. His fur-collared overcoat and
+slouch hat were thrown on a sofa. Of course, I was much upset.
+I went outside, meaning, I believe, to call the caretaker.
+Everything was very still in the house. I did not call. I began
+to think. I knew I was in a strange position. I knew my uncle&rsquo;s
+death would make a vast difference to me. I was next of kin. I
+wanted to know how things stood&mdash;how I was left. Something
+suggested itself to me. I think the overcoat and hat suggested
+it. I put on the hat and coat, took the keys from the table,
+and the latch-key of the Portman Square house from my uncle&rsquo;s
+waistcoat pocket, turned out the light, went out, closed both
+doors, went to the brougham, and was driven away. I saw very
+well that the coachman didn&rsquo;t know me at all&mdash;he thought I was
+his master.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg&nbsp;233]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;&ldquo;I have heard the evidence about my visit to Portman Square.
+I stopped there some time. I made a fairly complete search for
+a will and didn&rsquo;t find anything. It is quite true that I used
+one of the glasses, and ate a sandwich, and very likely I did
+bite into another. It&rsquo;s true, too, that I have lost two front
+teeth, and that the evidence of that could be in the sandwich.
+All that&rsquo;s true&mdash;I admit it. It&rsquo;s also quite true that I got
+the taxi-cab at two o&rsquo;clock at the corner of Orchard Street and
+drove back to Kensington. I re-entered the office; everything
+was as I&rsquo;d left it. I took off the coat and hat, put the keys
+under some loose papers on the table, turned out the light and
+went home to my flat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg&nbsp;234]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;&ldquo;Now I wish to tell the absolute, honest truth about Burchill
+and the will. When I heard of and saw the will, after Mr.
+Tertius produced it, I went to see Burchill at his flat. I had
+never seen him, never communicated with him in any way whatever
+since he had left my uncle&rsquo;s service until that afternoon. I
+had got his address from a letter which I found in a
+pocket-book of my uncle&rsquo;s, which I took possession of when the
+police and I searched his effects. I went to see Burchill about
+the will, of course. When I said that a will had been found he
+fenced with me. He would only reply ambiguously. Eventually he
+asked me, point-blank, if I would make it worth his while if he
+aided me in upsetting the will. I replied that if he
+could&mdash;which I doubted&mdash;I would. He told me to call at ten
+o&rsquo;clock that night. I did so. He then told me what I had never
+suspected&mdash;that Mr. Tertius was, in reality, Arthur John
+Wynne, a convicted forger. He gave me his proofs, and I was
+fool enough to believe them. He then suggested that it would be
+the easiest thing in the world, considering Wynne&rsquo;s record, to
+prove that he had forged the will for his daughter&rsquo;s benefit.
+He offered to aid in this if I would sign documents giving him
+ten per cent. of the total value of my uncle&rsquo;s estate, and I
+was foolish enough to consent, and to sign. I solemnly declare
+that the entire suggestion about upsetting the will came from
+Burchill, and that there was no conspiracy between us of any
+sort whatever previous to that night. Whatever may happen, I&rsquo;ve
+told this court the absolute, definite truth!&rdquo;&rsquo;&rdquo;</p></div>
+
+<p>Professor Cox-Raythwaite folded up the newspaper, laid it on the little
+table, and brought his big hand down on his knee with an emphatic smack.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, then!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;In my deliberate, coldly reasoned opinion, that
+statement is true! If they hang Barthorpe, they&rsquo;ll hang an innocent man.
+But&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg&nbsp;235]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">the remand prison</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius broke the significant silence which followed. He shook his
+head sadly, and sighed deeply.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, those buts!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;As you remarked just now, Cox-Raythwaite,
+there is always a but. Now, this particular one&mdash;what is it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let me finish my sentence,&rdquo; responded the Professor. &ldquo;I say, I do not
+believe Barthorpe to be guilty of murder, though guilty enough of a
+particularly mean, dirty, and sneaking conspiracy to defraud his cousin.
+Yes, innocent of murder&mdash;but it will be a stiff job to prove his
+innocence. As things stand, he&rsquo;ll be hanged safe enough! You know what
+our juries are, Tertius&mdash;evidence such as that which has been put before
+the coroner and the magistrate will be quite sufficient to damn him at
+the Old Bailey. Ample!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What do you suggest, then?&rdquo; asked Mr. Tertius.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg&nbsp;236]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Suggestion,&rdquo; answered the Professor, &ldquo;is a difficult matter. But there
+are two things&mdash;perhaps more, but certainly two&mdash;on which I want light.
+The first is&mdash;nobody has succeeded in unearthing the man who went to the
+House of Commons to see Jacob on the night of the murder. In spite of
+everything, advertisements and all the rest of it, he&rsquo;s never come
+forward. If you remember, Halfpenny had a theory that the letter and
+the object which Mountain saw Jacob hand to that man were a note to the
+Safe Deposit people and the key of the safe. Now we know that&rsquo;s not so,
+because no one ever brought any letter to the Safe Deposit people and
+nobody&rsquo;s ever opened the safe. Halfpenny, too, believed, during the
+period of the police officials&rsquo; masterly silence, that that man had put
+himself in communication with them. Now we know that the police have
+never heard anything whatever of him, have never traced him. I&rsquo;m
+convinced that if we could unearth that man we should learn something.
+But how to do it, I don&rsquo;t know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And the other point?&rdquo; asked Selwood, after a pause during which
+everybody seemed to be ruminating deeply. &ldquo;You mentioned two.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The other point,&rdquo; replied the Professor, &ldquo;is one on which I am going to
+make a practical suggestion. It&rsquo;s this&mdash;I believe that Barthorpe told
+the truth in that statement of his which I&rsquo;ve just read to you, but I
+should like to know if he told all the truth&mdash;all! He may have omitted
+some slight thing, some infinitesimal circumstance&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you mean about himself or&mdash;what?&rdquo; asked Selwood.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg&nbsp;237]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I mean some very&mdash;or seemingly very&mdash;slight thing, during his two
+visits to the estate office that night, which, however slight it may
+seem, would form a clue to the real murderer,&rdquo; answered the Professor.
+&ldquo;He may have seen something, noticed something, and forgotten it, or not
+attached great importance to it. And, in short,&rdquo; he continued, with
+added emphasis, &ldquo;in short, my friends, Barthorpe must be visited,
+interviewed, questioned&mdash;not merely by his legal advisers, but by some
+friend, and the very person to do it&rdquo;&mdash;here he turned and laid his great
+hand on Peggie&rsquo;s shoulder&mdash;&ldquo;is&mdash;you, my dear!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I!&rdquo; exclaimed Peggie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You, certainly! Nobody better. He will tell you what he would tell no
+one else,&rdquo; said the Professor. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re the person. Am I not right,
+Tertius?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think you are right,&rdquo; assented Mr. Tertius. &ldquo;Yes, I think so.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But&mdash;he&rsquo;s in prison!&rdquo; said Peggie. &ldquo;Will they let me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, that&rsquo;s all right,&rdquo; answered the Professor. &ldquo;Halfpenny will arrange
+that like winking. You must go at once&mdash;and Selwood there will go with
+you. Far better for you two young people to go than for either
+Halfpenny, or Tertius, or myself. Youth invites confidence.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peggie turned and looked at Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll go?&rdquo; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>Selwood felt his cheeks flush and rose to conceal his sudden show of
+feeling. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go anywhere and do anything!&rdquo; he answered quietly. &ldquo;I
+don&rsquo;t know whether my opinion&rsquo;s worth having, but I think exactly as
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite does about this affair. But&mdash;who&rsquo;s the guilty
+man? Is it&mdash;can it be Burchill? If what Barthorpe Herapath says about
+that will affair is true, Burchill is cunning and subtle enough for&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg&nbsp;238]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Burchill, my dear lad, is at present out of our ken,&rdquo; interrupted
+Cox-Raythwaite. &ldquo;Barthorpe, however, is very much within it, and
+Halfpenny must arrange for you two to see him without delay. And once
+closeted with him, you must talk to him for his soul&rsquo;s good&mdash;get him to
+search his memory, to think of every detail he can rake up&mdash;above
+everything, if there&rsquo;s anything he&rsquo;s keeping back, beg him, on your
+knees if necessary, to make a clean breast of it. Otherwise&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg&nbsp;239]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Two days later Peggie, sick at heart, and Selwood, nervous and fidgety,
+sat in a room which gave both of them a feeling as of partial
+suffocation. It was not that it was not big enough for two people, or
+for six people, or for a dozen people to sit in&mdash;there was space for
+twenty. What oppressed them was the horrible sense of formality, the
+absence of life, colour, of anything but sure and solid security, the
+intrusive spick-and-spanness, the blatant cleanliness, the conscious
+odour of some sort of soap, used presumably for washing floors and
+walls, the whole crying atmosphere of incarceration. The barred window,
+the pictureless walls, the official look of the utterly plain chairs and
+tables, the grilles of iron bars which cut the place in half&mdash;these
+things oppressed the girl so profoundly that she felt as if a sharp
+scream was the only thing that would relieve her pent-up feelings. And
+as she sat there with thumping heart, dreading the appearance of her
+cousin behind those bars, yet wishing intensely that he would come,
+Peggie had a sudden fearful realization of what it really meant to fall
+into the hands of justice. There, somewhere close by, no doubt,
+Barthorpe was able to move hands and feet, legs and arms, body and
+head&mdash;but within limits. He could pace a cell, he could tramp round an
+exercise yard, he could eat and drink, he could use his tongue when
+allowed, he could do many things&mdash;but always within limits. He was
+held&mdash;held by an unseen power which could materialize, could make itself
+very much seen, at a second&rsquo;s notice. There he would stop until he was
+carried off to his trial; he would come and go during that trial, the
+unseen power always holding him. And one day he would either go out of
+the power&rsquo;s clutches&mdash;free, or he would be carried off, not to this
+remand prison but a certain cell in another place in which he would sit,
+or lounge, or lie, with nothing to do, until a bustling, businesslike
+man came in one morning with a little group of officials and in his hand
+a bundle of leather straps. Held!&mdash;by the strong, never-relaxing clutch
+of the law. That&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Buck up!&rdquo; whispered Selwood, in the blunt language of irreverent, yet
+good-natured, youth. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s coming!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peggie looked up to see Barthorpe staring at her through the iron bars.
+He was not over good to look at. He had a two days&rsquo; beard on his face;
+his linen was not fresh; his clothes were put on untidily; he stood with
+his hands in his pockets lumpishly&mdash;the change wrought by incarceration,
+even of that comparative sort, was great. He looked both sulky and
+sheepish; he gave Selwood no more than a curt nod; his first response to
+his cousin was of the nature of a growl.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg&nbsp;240]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hanged if I know what you&rsquo;ve come for!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the good of
+it? You may mean well, but&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Barthorpe, how can you!&rdquo; exclaimed Peggie. &ldquo;Of course we&rsquo;ve come!
+Do you think it possible we shouldn&rsquo;t come? You know very well we all
+believe you innocent.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who&rsquo;s all?&rdquo; demanded Barthorpe, half-sneeringly. &ldquo;Yourself, perhaps,
+and the parlour-maid!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All of us,&rdquo; said Selwood, thinking it was time a man spoke.
+&ldquo;Cox-Raythwaite, Mr. Tertius, myself. That&rsquo;s a fact, anyhow, so you&rsquo;d
+better grasp it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe straightened himself and looked keenly at Selwood. Then he
+spoke naturally and simply.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m much obliged to you, Selwood,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;d shake hands with you
+if I could. I&rsquo;m obliged to the others, too&mdash;especially to old
+Tertius&mdash;I&rsquo;ve wronged him, no doubt. But&rdquo;&mdash;here his face grew dark and
+savage&mdash;&ldquo;if you only knew how I was tricked by that devil! Is he
+caught?&mdash;that&rsquo;s what I want to know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No!&rdquo; answered Selwood. &ldquo;But never mind him&mdash;we&rsquo;ve come here to see what
+we can do for you. That&rsquo;s the important thing.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What can anybody do?&rdquo; said Barthorpe, with a mirthless laugh. &ldquo;You know
+all the evidence. It&rsquo;s enough&mdash;they&rsquo;ll hang me on it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Barthorpe, you mustn&rsquo;t!&rdquo; expostulated Peggie. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s not the way to
+treat things. Tell him,&rdquo; she went on, turning to Selwood, &ldquo;tell him all
+that Professor Cox-Raythwaite said the other night.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood repeated the gist of the Professor&rsquo;s arguments <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg&nbsp;241]</a></span>and suggestions,
+and Barthorpe began to show some interest. But at the end he shook his
+head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know that there&rsquo;s anything more that I can tell,&rdquo; he said.
+&ldquo;Whatever anybody may think, I told the entire truth about myself and
+this affair in that statement before the magistrate. Of course, you know
+they didn&rsquo;t want me to say a word&mdash;my legal advisers, I mean. They were
+dead against it. But you see, I was resolved on it&mdash;I wanted it to get
+in the papers. I told everything in that. I tried to put it as plainly
+as I could. No&mdash;I&rsquo;ve told the main facts.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But aren&rsquo;t there any little facts, Barthorpe?&rdquo; asked Peggie. &ldquo;Can&rsquo;t you
+think of any small thing&mdash;was there nothing that would give&mdash;I don&rsquo;t
+know how to put it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Anything that you can think of that would give a clue?&rdquo; suggested
+Selwood. &ldquo;Was there nothing you noticed&mdash;was there anything&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe appeared to be thinking; then to be hesitating&mdash;finally, he
+looked at Selwood a little shamefacedly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg&nbsp;242]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, there were one or two things that I didn&rsquo;t tell,&rdquo; he said.
+&ldquo;I&mdash;the fact is, I didn&rsquo;t think they were of importance. One of them was
+about that key to the Safe Deposit. You know you and I couldn&rsquo;t find it
+when we searched the office that morning. Well, I had found it. Or
+rather, I took it off the bunch of keys. I wanted to search the safe at
+the Safe Deposit myself. But I never did. I don&rsquo;t know whether the
+detectives have found it or not&mdash;I threw it into a drawer at my office
+in which there are a lot of other keys. But, you know, there&rsquo;s nothing
+in that&mdash;nothing at all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You said one or two other things just now,&rdquo; remarked Selwood. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s
+one&mdash;what&rsquo;s the other?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe hesitated. The three were not the only occupants of that
+gloomy room, and though the official ears might have been graven out of
+stone, he felt their presence.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t keep anything back, Barthorpe,&rdquo; pleaded Peggie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, well!&rdquo; responded Barthorpe. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you, though I don&rsquo;t know
+what good it will do. I didn&rsquo;t tell this, because&mdash;well, of course, it&rsquo;s
+not exactly a thing a man likes to tell. When I looked over Uncle
+Jacob&rsquo;s desk, just after I found him dead, you know, I found a
+hundred-pound note lying there. I put it in my pocket. Hundred-pound
+notes weren&rsquo;t plentiful, you know,&rdquo; he went on with a grim smile. &ldquo;Of
+course, it was a shabby thing to do, sort of robbing the dead, you know,
+but&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you see any way in which that can help?&rdquo; asked Selwood, whose mind
+was not disposed to dwell on nice questions of morality or conduct.
+&ldquo;Does anything suggest itself?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg&nbsp;243]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, this,&rdquo; answered Barthorpe, rubbing his chin. &ldquo;It was a brand-new
+note. That&rsquo;s puzzled me&mdash;that it should be lying there amongst papers.
+You might go to Uncle Jacob&rsquo;s bank and find out when he drew it&mdash;or
+rather, if he&rsquo;d been drawing money that day. He used, as you and I know,
+to draw considerable amounts in notes. And&mdash;it&rsquo;s only a notion&mdash;if he&rsquo;d
+drawn anything big that day, and he had it on him that night, why,
+there&rsquo;s a motive there. Somebody may have known he&rsquo;d a considerable
+amount on him and have followed him in there. Don&rsquo;t forget that I found
+both doors open when I went there! That&rsquo;s a point that mustn&rsquo;t be
+overlooked.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s absolutely nothing else you can think of?&rdquo; asked Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>Barthorpe shook his head. No&mdash;there was nothing&mdash;he was sure of that.
+And then he turned eagerly to the question of finding Burchill.
+Burchill, he was certain, knew more than he had given him credit for,
+knew something, perhaps, about the actual murder. He was a deep, crafty
+dog, Burchill&mdash;only let the police find him!&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Time was up, then, and Peggie and Selwood had to go&mdash;their last
+impression that of Barthorpe thrusting his hands in his pockets and
+lounging away to his enforced idleness. It made the girl sick at heart,
+and it showed Selwood what deprivation of liberty means to a man who has
+hitherto been active and vigorous.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Have we done any good?&rdquo; asked Peggie, drawing a deep breath of free air
+as soon as they were outside the gates. &ldquo;Any bit of good?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s the affair of the bank-note,&rdquo; answered Selwood. &ldquo;That may be of
+some moment. I&rsquo;ll go and report progress on that, anyway.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He put Peggie into her car to go home, and himself hailed a taxi-cab and
+drove straight to Mr. Halfpenny&rsquo;s office, where Professor Cox-Raythwaite
+and Mr. Tertius had arranged to meet him.</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg&nbsp;244]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">the last cheque</p>
+
+<p>The three elderly gentlemen, seated in Mr. Halfpenny&rsquo;s private room,
+listened with intense, if silent, interest to Selwood&rsquo;s account of the
+interview with Barthorpe. It was a small bundle of news that he had
+brought back and two of his hearers showed by their faces that they
+attached little importance to it. But Professor Cox-Raythwaite caught
+eagerly at the mere scrap of suggestion.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tertius!&mdash;Halfpenny!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;That must be followed up&mdash;we must
+follow it up at once. That bank-note may be a most valuable and
+effective clue.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Halfpenny showed a decided incredulity and dissent.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg&nbsp;245]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t see it,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t see it at all, Cox-Raythwaite.
+What is there in it? What clue can there be in the fact that Barthorpe
+picked up a hundred pound bank-note from his uncle&rsquo;s writing-desk? Lord
+bless me!&mdash;why, every one of us four men knows very well that hundred
+pound notes were as common to Jacob Herapath as half-crowns are to any
+of us! He was a man who carried money in large amounts on him
+always&mdash;I&rsquo;ve expostulated with him about it. Don&rsquo;t you know&mdash;no, I dare
+say you don&rsquo;t though, because you never had business dealings with him,
+and perhaps Tertius doesn&rsquo;t, either, because he, like you, only knew him
+as a friend&mdash;you don&rsquo;t know that Jacob had a peculiarity. Perhaps Mr.
+Selwood knows of it, though, as he was his secretary.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What peculiarity?&rdquo; asked the Professor. &ldquo;I know he had several fads,
+which one might call peculiarities.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg&nbsp;246]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He had a business peculiarity,&rdquo; replied Mr. Halfpenny, &ldquo;and it was well
+known to people in his line of business. You know that Jacob Herapath
+had extensive, unusually extensive, dealings in real property&mdash;land and
+houses. Quite apart from the Herapath Flats, he dealt on wide lines with
+real estate; he was always buying and selling. And his peculiarity was
+that all his transactions in this way were done by cash&mdash;bank-notes or
+gold&mdash;instead of by cheque. It didn&rsquo;t matter if he was buying a hundred
+thousand pounds&rsquo; worth of property, or selling two hundred thousand
+pounds&rsquo; worth&mdash;the affairs had to be completed by payment in that
+fashion. I&rsquo;ve scolded him about it scores of times; he only laughed at
+me; he said that had been the custom when he went into the business, and
+he&rsquo;d stuck to it, and wasn&rsquo;t going to give it up. God bless me!&rdquo;
+concluded Mr. Halfpenny, with emphasis. &ldquo;I ought to know, for Jacob
+Herapath has concluded many an operation in this very room, and at this
+very table&mdash;I&rsquo;ve seen him handle many a hundred thousand pounds&rsquo; worth
+of notes in my time, paying or receiving! And, as I said, the mere
+picking up of a hundred pound note from his desk is&mdash;why, it&rsquo;s no more
+than if I picked up a few of those coppers that are lying there on my
+chimney-piece!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just so, just so!&rdquo; observed Mr. Tertius mildly. &ldquo;Jacob was a very
+wealthy man&mdash;the money evidence was everywhere.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Professor Cox-Raythwaite only laughed and smote the table with his
+big fist.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg&nbsp;247]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My dear Halfpenny!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;Why, you&rsquo;ve just given us the very
+best proof of what I&rsquo;ve been saying! You&rsquo;re not looking deeply enough
+into things. The very fact to which you bear testimony proves to me that
+a certain theory which is assuming shape in my mind may possibly have a
+great deal in it. That theory, briefly, is this&mdash;on the day of his
+death, Jacob Herapath may have had upon his person a large amount of
+money in bank-notes. He may have had them paid to him. He may have drawn
+them from his bank, to pay to somebody else. Some evil person may have
+been aware of his possession of those notes and have tracked him to the
+estate offices, or gained entrance, or&mdash;mark this!&mdash;have been
+lurking&mdash;lurking!&mdash;there, in order to rob him. Don&rsquo;t forget two points,
+my friend&mdash;one, that Barthorpe (if he&rsquo;s speaking the truth, and I,
+personally, believe he is) tells us that the doors of the offices and
+the private room were open when he called at twelve o&rsquo;clock; and, too,
+that, according to Mountain, the coachman, Jacob Herapath had been in
+those offices since twenty-five minutes to twelve&mdash;plenty of time for
+murder and robbery to take place. I repeat&mdash;Jacob may have had a
+considerable sum of money on him that night, some one may have known it,
+and the motive of his murder may have been&mdash;probably was&mdash;sheer robbery.
+And we ought to go on that, if we want to save the family honour.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius nodded and murmured assent, and Mr. Halfpenny stirred
+uneasily in his chair.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Family honour!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Yes, yes, that&rsquo;s right, of course. It would
+be a dreadful thing to see a nephew hanged for the murder of his
+uncle&mdash;quite right!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A much more dreadful thing to stand by and see an innocent man hanged,
+without moving heaven and earth to clear him,&rdquo; commented the Professor.
+&ldquo;Come now, I helped to establish the fact that Barthorpe visited Portman
+Square that night&mdash;Tertius there helped too, by his quickness in seeing
+that the half-eaten sandwich had been bitten into by a man who had lost
+two front teeth, which, of course, was Barthorpe&rsquo;s case&mdash;so the least we
+can do is to bestir ourselves now that we believe him to have told the
+truth in that statement.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But how exactly are we to bestir ourselves?&rdquo; asked Mr. Halfpenny.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I suggest a visit to Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s bankers, first of all,&rdquo; answered
+the Professor. &ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t heard that any particular inquiry has been
+made. Did you make any, Halfpenny?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg&nbsp;248]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Jacob&rsquo;s bankers are Bittleston, Stocks and Bittleston,&rdquo; replied the old
+lawyer. &ldquo;I did make it in my way to drop in there and to see Mr.
+Playbourne, the manager of their West End branch, in Piccadilly. He
+assured me that there was nothing whatever out of the common in Jacob
+Herapath&rsquo;s transactions with them just before his death, and nothing at
+all in their particulars of his banking account which could throw any
+possible light on his murder.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In his opinion,&rdquo; said the Professor, caustically, &ldquo;in his opinion,
+Halfpenny! But&mdash;you don&rsquo;t know what our opinion might be. Now, I suggest
+that we all go at once to see this Mr. Playbourne; there&rsquo;s ample time
+before the bank closes for the day.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; assented Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;All the same, I&rsquo;m afraid
+Playbourne will only say just what he said before.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Playbourne, a good typical specimen of the somewhat old-fashioned
+bank manager, receiving this formidable deputation of four gentlemen in
+his private room, said precisely what he had said before, and seemed
+astonished to think that any light upon such an unpleasant thing as a
+murder could possibly be derived from so highly respectable a quarter as
+that in which he moved during the greater part of the day.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can&rsquo;t think of anything in our transactions with the late Mr.
+Herapath that gives any clue, any idea, anything at all,&rdquo; he said,
+somewhat querulously. &ldquo;Mr. Herapath&rsquo;s transactions with us, right up to
+the day of his death, were just what they had been for years. Of course,
+I&rsquo;m willing to tell you anything, show you anything. You&rsquo;re acting for
+Miss Wynne, aren&rsquo;t you, Mr. Halfpenny?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg&nbsp;249]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have a power of attorney from Miss Wynne, for that matter,&rdquo; answered
+Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;Everything of that sort&rsquo;s in my hands.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you what, then,&rdquo; said the bank manager, laying his hand on a
+bell at his side. &ldquo;You&rsquo;d better see Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s pass-book. I
+recently had it posted up to the day of his death, and of course we&rsquo;ve
+retained it until you demanded it. You can&rsquo;t have a better index to his
+affairs with us than you&rsquo;ll find in it. Sellars,&rdquo; he went on, as a clerk
+appeared, &ldquo;bring me the late Mr. Herapath&rsquo;s pass-book&mdash;Mr. Ravensdale
+has it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The visitors presently gathered round the desk on which Mr. Playbourne
+laid the parchment-bound book&mdash;one of a corresponding thickness with the
+dead man&rsquo;s transactions. The manager turned to the pages last filled in.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re aware, of course, some of you at any rate,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you, Mr.
+Halfpenny, and you, Mr. Selwood, that the late Jacob Herapath dealt in
+big sums. He always had a very large balance at this branch of our bank;
+he was continually paying in and drawing out amounts which, to men of
+less means, must needs seem tremendous. Now, you can see for yourselves
+what his transactions with us were during the last few days of his life;
+I, as I have said, see nothing out of the way in them&mdash;you, of course,&rdquo;
+he continued, with a sniff, &ldquo;may see a good deal!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Professor Cox-Raythwaite ran his eye over the neatly-written pages,
+passing rapidly on to the important date&mdash;November 12th. And he suddenly
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg&nbsp;250]</a></span>thrust out his arm and put the tip of a big yellow finger on one
+particular entry.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;Look at that. &lsquo;Self, &pound;5,000.&rsquo; Paid out, you see,
+on November 12th. Do you see?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Playbourne laughed cynically.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My dear sir!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Do you mean to say that you attach any
+importance to an entry like that? Jacob Herapath constantly drew cheques
+to self for five, ten, twenty, thirty&mdash;aye, fifty thousand pounds! He
+dealt in tens of thousands&mdash;he was always buying or selling. Five
+thousand pounds!&mdash;a fleabite!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All the same, if you please,&rdquo; said the Professor quietly, &ldquo;I should
+like to know if Jacob Herapath presented that self cheque himself, and
+if so, how he took the money it represents.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, very well!&rdquo; said the manager resignedly. He touched his bell again,
+and looked wearily at the clerk who answered it. &ldquo;Find out if the late
+Mr. Herapath himself presented a cheque for five thousand on November
+12th, and if so, how he took it,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he continued, turning
+to his visitors. &ldquo;Do you see anything with any further possible mystery
+attached to it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s an entry there&mdash;the last,&rdquo; observed Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;That.
+&lsquo;Dimambro: three thousand guineas.&rsquo; That&rsquo;s the same date.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Playbourne suddenly showed some interest and animation. His eyes
+brightened; he sat up erect.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg&nbsp;251]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Well, now, that is somewhat remarkable, that
+entry!&mdash;though of course there&rsquo;s nothing out of the common in it. But
+that cheque was most certainly the very last ever drawn by Jacob
+Herapath, and according to strict law, it never ought to have been paid
+out by us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why?&rdquo; asked Professor Cox-Raythwaite.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Because Jacob Herapath, the drawer, was dead before it was presented,&rdquo;
+replied the manager. &ldquo;But of course we didn&rsquo;t know that. The cheque, you
+see, was drawn on November 12th, and it was presented here as soon as
+ever the doors were opened next morning and before any of us knew of
+what had happened during the night, and it was accordingly honoured in
+the usual way.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The payee, of course, was known?&rdquo; observed Mr. Halfpenny.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, he was not known, but he endorsed the cheque with name and address,
+and there can be no reason whatever to doubt that it had come to him in
+the ordinary way of business,&rdquo; replied the manager. &ldquo;Quite a usual
+transaction, but, as I say, noteworthy, because, as you know, a cheque
+is no good after its drawer&rsquo;s demise.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Professor Cox-Raythwaite, who appeared to have fallen into a brown study
+for a moment, suddenly looked up.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now I wonder if we might be permitted to see that cheque&mdash;as a
+curiosity?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Can we be favoured so far?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, certainly, certainly,&rdquo; answered Mr. Playbourne. &ldquo;No trouble.
+I&rsquo;ll&mdash;ah, here&rsquo;s your information about the other cheque&mdash;the self
+cheque for five thousand.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg&nbsp;252]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He took a slip of paper from the clerk who just then entered, and read
+it aloud.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here you are,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;&lsquo;Mr. Herapath cashed cheque for &pound;5,000
+himself, at three o&rsquo;clock; the money in fifty notes of &pound;100 each,
+numbered as follows&rsquo;&mdash;you can take this slip, if you like,&rdquo; he
+continued, handing the paper to Professor Cox-Raythwaite, as the
+obviously most interested man of his party. &ldquo;There are the numbers of
+the notes. Of course, I can&rsquo;t see how all this throws any light on the
+mystery of Herapath&rsquo;s murder, but perhaps you can. Sellers,&rdquo; he
+continued, turning to the clerk, and beckoning him to look at the
+pass-book, &ldquo;find me the cheque referred to there, and bring it here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The clerk returned in a few minutes with the cheque, which Mr.
+Playbourne at once exhibited to his visitors.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There you are, gentlemen,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Quite a curiosity!&mdash;certainly the
+last cheque ever drawn by our poor friend. There, you see, is his
+well-known signature with his secret little mark which you wouldn&rsquo;t
+detect&mdash;secret between him and us, eh!&mdash;big, bold handwriting, wasn&rsquo;t
+it? Sad to think that that was&mdash;very likely&mdash;the last time he used a
+pen!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Professor Cox-Raythwaite in his turn handled the cheque. Its face gave
+him small concern; what he was most interested in was the endorsement on
+the back. Without saying anything to his companions, he memorized that
+endorsement, and he was still murmuring it to himself when, a few
+minutes later, he walked out of the bank.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Luigi Dimambro, Hotel Ravenna, Soho.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg&nbsp;253]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">the hotel ravenna</p>
+
+<p>Once closeted together in the private room at Halfpenny and Farthing&rsquo;s
+office, Mr. Halfpenny, who had seemed somewhat mystified by the
+happenings at the bank, looked inquiringly at Professor Cox-Raythwaite
+and snapped out one suggestive monosyllable:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very well indeed,&rdquo; answered Cox-Raythwaite. &ldquo;I consider we have done
+good work. We have found things out. That bank manager is a pompous ass;
+he&rsquo;s a man of asinine, or possible bovine, mind! Of course, he ought to
+have revealed these things at both the inquest and the magisterial
+proceedings!&mdash;they&rsquo;ll certainly have to be put in evidence at Barthorpe
+Herapath&rsquo;s trial.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What things?&rdquo; demanded the old lawyer, a little testily.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Two things&mdash;facts,&rdquo; replied the Professor, composedly. &ldquo;First, that
+Jacob Herapath drew five thousand pounds in hundred pound notes at three
+o&rsquo;clock on the day of his death. Second, that at some hour of that day
+he drew a cheque in favour of one Luigi Dimambro, which cheque was
+cashed as soon as the bank opened next morning.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg&nbsp;254]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Frankly,&rdquo; observed Mr. Halfpenny, &ldquo;frankly, candidly, Cox-Raythwaite,
+I do not see what these things&mdash;facts&mdash;prove.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very likely,&rdquo; said the Professor, imperturbable as ever, &ldquo;but they&rsquo;re
+remarkably suggestive to me. They establish for one thing the fact that,
+in all probability, Jacob Herapath had those notes on him when he was
+murdered.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t see it,&rdquo; retorted Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;He got the fifty
+one-hundred-pound notes from the bank at three o&rsquo;clock in the afternoon.
+He&rsquo;s supposed to have been murdered at twelve&mdash;midnight. That&rsquo;s nine
+hours. Plenty of time in which to pay those notes away&mdash;as he most
+likely did.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you&rsquo;ll let your mind go back to what came out in evidence at the
+inquest,&rdquo; said the Professor, &ldquo;you&rsquo;ll remember that Jacob Herapath went
+to the House of Commons at half-past three that day and never left it
+until his coachman fetched him at a quarter-past eleven. It&rsquo;s not very
+likely that he&rsquo;d transact business at the House.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Plenty of time between three and half-past three,&rdquo; objected Mr.
+Halfpenny.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Quite so, but we haven&rsquo;t heard of any transaction being carried out
+during that time. Make inquiry, and see if he did engage in any such
+transaction,&rdquo; said the Professor. &ldquo;If he didn&rsquo;t, then my theory that he
+had the notes on him is correct. Moreover, Barthorpe has told Selwood
+that he picked up one note from the desk in his uncle&rsquo;s private room.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One note!&rdquo; exclaimed Mr. Halfpenny.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg&nbsp;255]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One note&mdash;quite so,&rdquo; agreed the Professor. &ldquo;May it not have been&mdash;it&rsquo;s
+all theory, of course&mdash;that Jacob had all the notes on the desk when he
+was murdered, that the murderer grabbed them afterwards, and in his
+haste, left one? Come, now!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Theory&mdash;theory!&rdquo; said Mr. Halfpenny. &ldquo;Still, I&rsquo;ll make inquiries all
+around, to see if Jacob did pay five thousand away to anybody that
+afternoon. Well, and your other point?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I should like to know what the cheque for three thousand guineas was
+for,&rdquo; answered the Professor. &ldquo;It was paid out to one Luigi Dimambro,
+whose address was written down by himself in endorsing the cheque as
+Hotel Ravenna, Soho. He, presumably, is a foreigner, an Italian, or a
+Corsican, or a Sicilian, and the probability is that Jacob Herapath
+bought something from him that day, and that the transaction took place
+after banking hours.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How do you deduce that?&rdquo; asked Mr. Halfpenny.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Because Dimambro cashed his cheque as soon as the bank opened its doors
+next morning,&rdquo; answered the Professor. &ldquo;If he&rsquo;d been given the cheque
+before four o&rsquo;clock on November 12th, he&rsquo;d have cashed it then.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The cheque may have been posted to him,&rdquo; said Mr. Halfpenny.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg&nbsp;256]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;May be; the point is that it was drawn by Jacob on November 12th and
+cashed at the earliest possible hour next day,&rdquo; replied the Professor.
+&ldquo;Now, though it may have nothing to do with the case, I want to know
+what that cheque referred to. More than this, I have an idea. May not
+this man Dimambro be the man who called on Jacob Herapath at the House
+of Commons that night&mdash;the man whom Mountain saw, but did not recognize
+as one of his master&rsquo;s usual friends or acquaintances? Do you see that
+point?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tertius and Selwood muttered expressions of acquiescence, but Mr.
+Halfpenny shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Can&rsquo;t see anything much in it,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;If this foreign fellow,
+Dimambro, was the man who called at the House, I don&rsquo;t see what that&rsquo;s
+got to do with the murder. Jacob Herapath, of course, had business
+affairs with all sorts of queer people&mdash;Italians, Spaniards,
+Chinese&mdash;many a Tom, Dick, and Harry of &rsquo;em; he bought curios of all
+descriptions, and often sold them again as soon as bought.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very good suggestion,&rdquo; said Professor Cox-Raythwaite. &ldquo;He may have
+bought something extremely valuable from this Dimambro that day, or that
+night, and&mdash;he may have had it on him when he was murdered. Clearly, we
+must see this Luigi Dimambro!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If he&rsquo;s the man who called at the House, you forget that he&rsquo;s been
+advertised for no end,&rdquo; said Selwood.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg&nbsp;257]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, I don&rsquo;t,&rdquo; responded the Professor. &ldquo;But he may be out of the
+country: may have come to it specially to see Jacob Herapath, and left
+it again. I repeat, we must see this man, if he&rsquo;s to be found. We must
+make inquiries&mdash;cautious, guarded inquiries&mdash;at this hotel in Soho,
+which is probably a foreigners&rsquo; house of call, a mere restaurant. And
+the very person to make those inquiries,&rdquo; he concluded, turning to
+Selwood and favouring him with a smack of the shoulder, &ldquo;is&mdash;you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood flinched, physically and mentally. He had no great love of the
+proposed r&ocirc;le&mdash;private detective work did not appeal to him. And he
+suggested that Professor Cox-Raythwaite had far better apply to Scotland
+Yard.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By no means,&rdquo; answered the Professor calmly. &ldquo;You are the man to do the
+work. We don&rsquo;t want any police interference. This Hotel Ravenna is
+probably some caf&eacute;, restaurant, or saloon in Soho, frequented by
+foreigners&mdash;a place where, perhaps, a man can get a room for a night or
+two. You must go quietly, unobtrusively, there; if it&rsquo;s a restaurant, as
+it&rsquo;s sure to be, or at any rate, a place to which a restaurant is
+attached, go in and get some sort of a meal, keep your eyes open, find
+out the proprietor, get into talk with him, see if he knows Luigi
+Dimambro. All you need is tact, caution, and readiness to adapt yourself
+to circumstances.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then, when they left Mr. Halfpenny&rsquo;s office he took Selwood aside and
+gave him certain hints and instructions, and enlarged upon the
+advantages of finding Dimambro if he was to be found. The Professor
+himself was enthusiastic about these recent developments, and he
+succeeded in communicating some of his enthusiasm to Selwood. After all,
+thought Selwood, as he went to Portman Square to tell Peggie of the
+afternoon&rsquo;s doings, whatever he did was being done for Peggie; moreover,
+he was by that time certain that however mean and base Barthorpe
+Herapath&rsquo;s <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg&nbsp;258]</a></span>conduct had been about the will, he was certainly not the
+murderer of his uncle. If that murderer was to be tracked&mdash;why, there
+was a certain zest, an appealing excitement in the tracking of him that
+presented a sure fascination to youthful spirits.</p>
+
+<p>That evening found Selwood, quietly and unassumingly attired, examining
+the purlieus of Soho. It was a district of which he knew little, and for
+half an hour he perambulated its streets, wondering at the distinctly
+foreign atmosphere. And suddenly he came across the Hotel Ravenna&mdash;there
+it was, confronting him, at the lower end of Dean Street. He drew back
+and looked it well over from the opposite pavement.</p>
+
+<p>The Hotel Ravenna was rather more of a pretentious establishment than
+Selwood had expected it to be. It was typically Italian in outward
+aspect. There were the usual evergreen shrubs set in the usual green
+wood tubs at the entrance; the usual abundance of plate-glass and garish
+gilt; the usual glimpse, whenever the door opened, of the usual vista of
+white linen, red plush, and many mirrors; the waiter who occasionally
+showed himself at the door, napkin in hand, was of the type which
+Selwood had seen a thousand times under similar circumstances. But all
+this related to the restaurant&mdash;Selwood was more interested that the
+word &ldquo;Hotel&rdquo; appeared in gilt letters over a door at the side of the
+establishment and was repeated in the windows of the upper storeys. He
+was half-minded to enter the door at once, and to make a guarded inquiry
+for Mr. Luigi Dimambro; on reflection he walked across the street and
+boldly entered the restaurant.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg&nbsp;259]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It was half-past seven o&rsquo;clock, and the place was full of customers.
+Selwood took most of them to be foreigners. He also concluded after a
+first glance around him that the majority had some connection, more or
+less close, with either the dramatic, or the musical, or the artistic
+professions. There was much laughter and long hair, marvellous neckties
+and wondrous costumes; everybody seemed to be talking without regard to
+question or answer; the artillery of the voices mingled with the
+rattling of plates and popping of corks. Clearly this was no easy place
+in which to seek for a man whom one had never seen!</p>
+
+<p>Selwood allowed a waiter to conduct him to a vacant seat&mdash;a plush throne
+half-way along the restaurant. He ordered a modest dinner and a bottle
+of light wine, and following what seemed to be the custom, lighted a
+cigarette until his first course appeared. And while he waited he looked
+about him, noting everything that presented itself. Out of all the folk
+there, waiters and customers, the idle and the busy, he quickly decided
+that there was only one man who possessed particular interest for him.
+That man was the big, smiling, frock-coated, sleek-haired patron or
+proprietor, who strode up and down, beaming and nodding, sharp-eyed and
+courteous, and whom Selwood, from a glance at the emblazoned lettering
+of the bill-of-fare, took to rejoice in the name of Mr. Alessandro
+Bioni. This man, if he was landlord, or manager, of the Ravenna Hotel,
+was clearly the person to approach if one wanted information about the
+Luigi Dimambro who had given the place as his address as recently as
+November 12th.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg&nbsp;260]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>While he ate and drank, Selwood wondered how to go about his business.
+It seemed to him that the best thing to do, now that he had seen the
+place and assured himself that it was a hotel evidently doing a proper
+and legitimate business, was to approach its management with a plain
+question&mdash;was Mr. Luigi Dimambro staying there, or was he known there?
+Since Dimambro, whoever he might be, had given that as his address,
+something must be known of him. And when the smiling patron presently
+came round, and, seeing a new customer, asked politely if he was being
+served to his satisfaction, Selwood determined to settle matters at
+once.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The proprietor, I presume?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Manager, sir,&rdquo; answered the other. &ldquo;The proprietor, he is an old
+gentleman&mdash;practically retired.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Perhaps I can ask you a question,&rdquo; Selwood. &ldquo;Have you got a Mr. Luigi
+Dimambro staying at your hotel? He is, I believe&rdquo;&mdash;here Selwood made a
+bold shot at a possibility&mdash;&ldquo;a seller of curios, or art objects. I know
+he stops here sometimes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The manager rubbed his hands together and reflected.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One moment, sir,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I get the register. The hotel guests, they
+come in here for meals, but always I do not recollect their names, and
+sometimes not know them. But the register&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He sped down the room, through a side door, vanished; to return in a
+moment with a book which he carried to Selwood&rsquo;s side.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dimambro?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Recently, then? We shall see.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg&nbsp;261]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;About the beginning or middle of November,&rdquo; answered Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>The manager found the pages: suddenly he pointed to an entry.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;See, then!&rdquo; he exclaimed dramatically. &ldquo;You are right, sir.
+There&mdash;Luigi Dimambro&mdash;November 11th to&mdash;yes&mdash;13th. Two days only. Then
+he go&mdash;leave us, eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, then, he&rsquo;s not here now,&rdquo; said Selwood, affecting disappointment.
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s a pity. I wanted to see him. I wonder if he left any address?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The manager showed more politeness in returning to the hotel office and
+making inquiry. He came back full of disappointment that he could not
+oblige his customer. No&mdash;no address&mdash;merely there for two nights&mdash;then
+gone&mdash;nobody knew where. Perhaps he would return&mdash;some day.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, it&rsquo;s of no great consequence, thank you,&rdquo; remarked Selwood. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+much obliged to you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He had found out, at any rate, that a man named Dimambro had certainly
+stayed at the Hotel Ravenna on the critical and important date.
+Presumably he was the man who had presented Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s cheque at
+Bittleston&rsquo;s Bank first thing on the morning after the murder. But
+whether this man had any connection with that murder, whether to
+discover his whereabouts would be to reveal something of use in
+establishing Barthorpe Herapath&rsquo;s innocence, were questions which he
+must leave to Professor Cox-Raythwaite, to whom he was presently going
+with his news.</p>
+
+<p>He had just finished his coffee, and was about to pay his bill when,
+looking up to summon the waiter, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg&nbsp;262]</a></span>he suddenly saw a face appear behind
+the glass panel of the street door&mdash;the face of a man who had evidently
+stolen quietly into the entry between the evergreen shrubs and wished to
+take a surreptitious peep into the interior of the little restaurant. It
+was there, clearly seen through the glass, but for one fraction of a
+second&mdash;then it was withdrawn as swiftly as it had come and the panel of
+glass was blank again. But in that flash of time Selwood had recognized
+it.</p>
+
+<p>Burchill!</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg&nbsp;263]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">the note in the prayer-book</p>
+
+<p>Selwood hurried out of that restaurant as soon as he had paid his bill,
+but it was with small hopes of finding the man whose face had appeared
+at the glass panel for the fraction of a second. As well look for one
+snowflake in a drift as for one man in those crowded streets!&mdash;all the
+same, he spent half an hour in wandering round the neighbourhood,
+looking eagerly at every tall figure he met or passed. And at the end of
+that time he went off to Endsleigh Gardens and reported progress to
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite.</p>
+
+<p>The Professor heard both items of news without betraying any great
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re sure it was Burchill?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;As sure,&rdquo; answered Selwood, &ldquo;as that you&rsquo;re you! His is not a face easy
+to mistake.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He&rsquo;s a daring fellow,&rdquo; observed the Professor, musingly. &ldquo;A very bold
+fellow! There&rsquo;s a very good portrait of him on those bills that the
+police have put out and posted so freely, and he must know that every
+constable and detective in London is on the look-out for him, to say
+nothing of folk who would be glad of the reward. If that was
+Burchill&mdash;and I&rsquo;ve no doubt of it, since you&rsquo;re so certain&mdash;it suggests
+a good deal to me.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg&nbsp;264]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What?&rdquo; asked Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That he&rsquo;s not afraid of being recaptured as you&rsquo;d think he would be,&rdquo;
+replied the Professor. &ldquo;It suggests that he&rsquo;s got some card up his
+sleeve&mdash;which is what I&rsquo;ve always thought. He probably knows
+something&mdash;you may be certain, in any case, that he&rsquo;s playing a deep and
+bold game, for his own purpose, of course. Now, I wonder if Burchill
+went to that restaurant on the same errand as yourself?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What!&mdash;to look for Dimambro?&rdquo; exclaimed Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why not? Remember that Burchill was Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s secretary before
+you were,&rdquo; answered the Professor. &ldquo;He was with Jacob some time, wasn&rsquo;t
+he? Well, he knew a good deal about Jacob&rsquo;s doings. Jacob may have had
+dealings with this Dimambro person in Burchill&rsquo;s days. You don&rsquo;t
+remember that Jacob had any such dealings in your time?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never!&rdquo; replied Selwood. &ldquo;Never heard the man&rsquo;s name until
+yesterday&mdash;never saw any letters from him, never heard Mr. Herapath
+mention him. But then, as Mr. Halfpenny said, yesterday, Mr. Herapath
+had all sorts of queer dealings with queer people. It&rsquo;s a fact that he
+used to buy and sell all sorts of things&mdash;curios, pictures, precious
+stones&mdash;he&rsquo;d all sorts of irons in the fire. It&rsquo;s a fact, too, that he
+was accustomed to carrying not only considerable sums of money, but
+valuables on him.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg&nbsp;265]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; exclaimed the Professor. He rose out of his chair, put his hands
+behind his broad back, and began to march up and down his study. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll
+tell you what, young man!&rdquo; he said earnestly. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m more than ever
+convinced that Jacob Herapath was robbed as well as murdered, and that
+robbery and murder&mdash;or, rather, murder and robbery, for the murder would
+go first&mdash;took place just before Barthorpe entered the offices to keep
+that appointment. Selwood!&mdash;we must find this Dimambro man!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who&rsquo;s most likely left the country,&rdquo; remarked Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s probable&mdash;it may be certain,&rdquo; said the Professor. &ldquo;Nevertheless,
+he may be here. And Burchill may be looking for him, too. Now, if
+Dimambro stopped two days at that Hotel Ravenna, from November 11th to
+13th, there must be somebody who knows something of him. We must&mdash;you
+must&mdash;make more inquiry&mdash;there at the hotel. Talk quietly to that
+manager or the servants. Get a description of him. Do that at
+once&mdash;first thing tomorrow morning.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t want to tell the police all this?&rdquo; asked Selwood.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg&nbsp;266]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No! Not at present, at any rate,&rdquo; answered the Professor. &ldquo;The police
+have their own methods, and they don&rsquo;t thank anybody for putting them
+off their beaten tracks. And&mdash;for the present&mdash;we won&rsquo;t tell them
+anything about your seeing Burchill. If we did, they&rsquo;d be incredulous.
+Police-like, they&rsquo;ll have watched the various seaports much more closely
+than they&rsquo;ll have watched London streets for Burchill. And Burchill&rsquo;s a
+clever devil&mdash;he&rsquo;ll know that he&rsquo;s much safer under the very nose of the
+people who want him than he would be fifty miles away from their toes!
+No, it&rsquo;s my opinion that Master Burchill will reveal himself, when the
+time comes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Give himself up, do you mean?&rdquo; exclaimed Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Likely&mdash;but if he does, it&rsquo;ll be done with a purpose,&rdquo; answered the
+Professor. &ldquo;Well&mdash;keep all quiet at present, and tomorrow morning, go
+and see if you can find out more about Dimambro at that hotel.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood repaired to the polite manager again next day and found no
+difficulty in getting whatever information the hotel staff&mdash;represented
+by a manageress, a general man-servant, and a maid or two&mdash;could give.
+It was meagre, and not too exact in particulars. Mr. Dimambro, who had
+never been there before, had stopped two days. He had occupied Room
+5&mdash;the gentleman could see it if he wished. Mr. Dimambro had been in and
+out most of the time. On the 13th he had gone out early in the morning;
+by ten o&rsquo;clock he had returned, paid his bill, and gone away with his
+luggage&mdash;one suit-case. No&mdash;he had had no callers at the hotel. But a
+waiter in the restaurant was discovered who remembered him as Number 5,
+and that on the 12th he had entertained a gentleman to dinner at seven
+o&rsquo;clock&mdash;a tall, thin, dark-faced gentleman, who looked like&mdash;yes, like
+an actor: a nicely dressed gentleman. That was all the waiter could
+remember of the guest; he remembered just about as much of Number 5,
+which was that Dimambro was a shortish, stoutish gentleman, with a
+slight <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg&nbsp;267]</a></span>black beard and moustache. There was a good reason why the
+waiter remembered this occurrence&mdash;the two gentlemen had a bottle of the
+best champagne, a rare occurrence at the Hotel Ravenna&mdash;a whole bottle,
+for which the surprising sum of twelve shillings and sixpence was
+charged! In proof of that startling episode in the restaurant routine,
+he produced the desk book for that day&mdash;behold it, the entry: Number
+5&mdash;1 Moet &amp; Chandon, 12<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is of a rare thing our customers call for wine so expensive,&rdquo; said
+the polite manager. &ldquo;Light wines, you understand, sir, we mostly sell.
+Champagne at twelve and six&mdash;an event!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood carried this further news to Professor Cox-Raythwaite, who
+roused himself from his microscope to consider it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Could that tall, dark, nicely-dressed gentleman have been Burchill?&rdquo; he
+muttered. &ldquo;Sounds like him. But you&rsquo;ve got a description of Dimambro, at
+any rate. Now we know of one man who saw the caller at the House of
+Commons&mdash;Mountain, the coachman. Come along&mdash;I&rsquo;ll go with you to see
+Mountain.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mountain, discovered at the mews wherein the Herapath stable was kept,
+said at once that he remembered the gentleman who had come out of the
+House of Commons with his late master. But when he came to be taxed with
+a requirement of details, Mountain&rsquo;s memory proved to be of no real
+value. The gentleman&mdash;well, he was a well-dressed gentleman, and he wore
+a top hat. But whether the gentleman was dark <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg&nbsp;268]</a></span>or fair, elderly or
+middle-aged, short or medium-heighted, he did not know&mdash;exactly.
+Nevertheless&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I should know him again, sir, if I was to set eyes on him!&rdquo; said
+Mountain, with such belief in his powers. &ldquo;Pick him out of a thousand, I
+could!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Queer how deficient most of our people are in the faculty of
+observation!&rdquo; remarked the Professor as he and Selwood left the mews.
+&ldquo;It really is most extraordinary that a man like that, with plenty of
+intelligence, and is no doubt a good man in his own line, can look at
+another man for a full minute and yet be utterly unable to tell you
+anything definite about him a month later! No help there, Selwood.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to Selwood that they were face to face with an impossible
+situation, and he began to feel inclined to share Mr. Halfpenny&rsquo;s
+pessimistic opinions as to the usefulness of these researches. But
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite was not to be easily daunted, and he was no
+sooner baulked in one direction than he hastened to try another.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg&nbsp;269]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, let&rsquo;s see where we are,&rdquo; he said, as they went round to Portman
+Square. &ldquo;We do know for a certainty that Jacob Herapath had a
+transaction of some sort with one Luigi Dimambro, on November 12th, and
+that it resulted in his handing, or sending, the said Luigi a cheque for
+three thousand guineas. Let&rsquo;s see if we can&rsquo;t find some trace of it, or
+some mention of it, or of previous dealings with Dimambro, amongst
+Jacob&rsquo;s papers. I suppose we can get access to everything here at the
+house, and down at the office, too, can&rsquo;t we? The probability is that
+the transaction with Dimambro was not the first. There must be
+something, Selwood&mdash;memoranda, letters, receipts&mdash;must be!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Selwood shook his head and uttered a dismal groan.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Another of my late employer&rsquo;s peculiarities,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;was that he
+never gave or took receipts in what one may call word-of-mouth
+transactions! He had a rooted&mdash;almost savage&mdash;objection to anybody
+asking him for a receipt for cash; he absolutely refused to take one if
+he paid cash. I&rsquo;ve seen him pay several thousand pounds for a purchase
+and fling the proffered receipt in the fire in the purchaser&rsquo;s presence.
+He used to ask&mdash;vehemently!&mdash;if you wanted receipts for a loaf of bread
+or a pound of beef-steak. I&rsquo;m afraid we shan&rsquo;t find much of that sort.
+As to letters and memoranda, Mr. Herapath had a curious habit which gave
+me considerable trouble of mind when I first went to him, though I admit
+it was a simple one. He destroyed every letter he ever got as soon as
+he&rsquo;d answered it. And as he insisted on everything being answered there
+and then, there&rsquo;s no great accumulation of paper in that way!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg&nbsp;270]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll see what there is, anyhow,&rdquo; said the Professor. &ldquo;If we could find
+something, anything&mdash;a mere business card, a letter-heading&mdash;that would
+give us Dimambro&rsquo;s permanent address, it would be of use. For I&rsquo;m more
+and more convinced that Dimambro was the man who called at the House of
+Commons that night, and if it was Burchill who dined with him that same
+evening, why, then&mdash;but come along, let&rsquo;s have a look at Jacob&rsquo;s desk
+in the house here, and after that we&rsquo;ll go down to the estate offices
+and see if we can find anything there.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This was a Saturday morning&mdash;during the whole of that afternoon and
+evening the Professor and Selwood examined every drawer and receptacle
+in which Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s papers lay, both at Portman Square and at
+Kensington. And, exactly as Selwood had said, there was next to nothing
+of a private nature. Papers relating to Parliamentary matters, to
+building schemes, to business affairs, there were in plenty, duly filed,
+docketed, and arranged, but there was nothing of the sort that
+Cox-Raythwaite hoped to find, and when they parted, late at night, they
+were no wiser than when they began their investigations.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go home to bed,&rdquo; counselled the Professor. &ldquo;Put the whole thing out of
+your head until Monday morning. Don&rsquo;t even think about it. Come and see
+me on Monday, first thing, and we&rsquo;ll start again. For by the Lord Harry!
+I&rsquo;ll find out yet what the real nature of Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s transaction
+with Dimambro was, if I have to track Dimambro all through Italy!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg&nbsp;271]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Selwood was glad enough to put everything out of his mind; it seemed to
+him a hopeless task to search for a man to whose identity they only had
+the very faintest clue. But before noon of the next day&mdash;Sunday&mdash;he was
+face to face with a new phase of the problem. Since her uncle&rsquo;s death,
+Peggie had begun to show a quiet reliance on Selwood. It had come to be
+tacitly understood between them that he was to be in constant
+attendance on her for the present, at any rate. He spent all his time at
+the house in Portman Square; he saved its young mistress all the trouble
+he could; he accompanied her in her goings and comings. And of late he
+had taken to attending her to a certain neighbouring church, whereto
+Peggie, like a well-regulated young lady, was constant in her Sunday
+visits. There in the Herapath family pew, he and Peggie sat together on
+this particular Sunday morning, neither with any thought that the
+Herapath mystery had penetrated to their sacred surroundings. Selwood
+had been glad to take Cox-Raythwaite&rsquo;s advice and to put the thing out
+of his mind for thirty-six hours: Peggie had nothing in her mind but
+what was proper to the occasion.</p>
+
+<p>Jacob Herapath had been an old-fashioned man in many respects; one of
+his fads was an insistence upon having a family pew in the church which
+he attended, and in furnishing it with his own cushions, mats, and
+books. Consequently Peggie left her own prayer-book in that pew from
+Sunday to Sunday. She picked it up now, and opened it at the usual
+familiar place. And from that place immediately dropped a folded note.</p>
+
+<p>Had this communication been a <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><i>billet-doux</i></span>, Peggie could hardly have
+betrayed more alarm and confusion. For a moment she let the thing rest
+in the palm of her hand, holding the hand out towards Selwood at her
+side; then with trembling fingers she unfolded it in such a fashion that
+she and Selwood read it together. With astonished eyes and beating
+hearts <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg&nbsp;272]</a></span>they found themselves looking at a half-sheet of thin,
+foreign-looking notepaper, on which were two or three lines of
+typewriting:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>&ldquo;If you wish to save your cousin Barthorpe&rsquo;s life, leave the
+church and speak to the lady whom you will find in a private
+automobile at the entrance to the churchyard.&rdquo;</p></div>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg&nbsp;273]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">the white-haired lady</p>
+
+<p>The two young people who bent over this mysterious message in the
+shelter of that old-fashioned pew were each conscious of a similar
+feeling&mdash;they were thankful that they were together. Peggie Wynne had
+never been so glad of anything in her life as for Selwood&rsquo;s immediate
+presence at that moment: Selwood felt a world of unspeakable gratitude
+that he was there, just when help and protection were wanted. For each
+recognized, with a sure instinct and intuition, that those
+innocent-looking lines of type-script signified much, heralded some
+event of dire importance. To save Barthorpe Herapath&rsquo;s life!&mdash;that could
+only mean that somebody&mdash;the sender of the note&mdash;knew that Barthorpe was
+innocent and some other person guilty.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment the girl stared with startled eyes and flushed cheeks at
+the scrap of paper; then she turned with a quick, questioning look at
+her companion. And Selwood reached for his hat and his stick, and
+murmured one word:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg&nbsp;274]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Peggie saw nothing of the surprised and questioning looks which were
+turned on Selwood and herself as they left the pew and passed down the
+aisle of the crowded church. She had but one thought&mdash;whom was she
+going to meet outside, what revelation was going to be made to her?
+Unconsciously, she laid a hand on Selwood&rsquo;s arm as they passed through
+the porch, and Selwood, with a quick throb of pride, took it and held
+it. Then, arm in arm, they walked out, and a verger who opened the outer
+door for them, smiled as they passed him; he foresaw another
+passing-out, whereat Peggie would wear orange blossoms.</p>
+
+<p>The yard of this particular church was not a place of green sward,
+ancient trees, and tumble-down tombs; instead it was an expanse of bare
+flagstones, shut in by high walls which terminated at a pair of iron
+gates. Outside those gates an automobile was drawn up; its driver stood
+attentively at its door. Selwood narrowly inspected both, as he and
+Peggie approached. The car was evidently a private one: a quiet, yet
+smart affair; its driver was equally smart in his dark green livery. And
+that he had received his orders was evident from the fact that as the
+two young people approached he touched his cap and laid a hand on the
+door of the car.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Be watchful and careful,&rdquo; whispered Selwood, as he and Peggie crossed
+the pavement. &ldquo;Leave all to me!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg&nbsp;275]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He himself was keenly alert to whatever might be going to happen. It
+seemed to him, from the chauffeur&rsquo;s action, that they were to be
+invited, or Peggie was to be invited, to enter the car. Very good&mdash;but
+he was going to know who was in that car before any communications of
+any sort were entered upon. Also, Peggie was not going to exchange one
+word with anybody, go one step with anybody, unless he remained in close
+attendance upon her. The phraseology of the mysterious note; the
+clandestine fashion in which it had been brought under Peggie&rsquo;s notice;
+the extraordinary method adopted of procuring an interview with her&mdash;all
+these things had aroused Selwood&rsquo;s suspicions, and his natural sense of
+caution was at its full stretch as he walked across to the car,
+wondering what he and Peggie were about to confront.</p>
+
+<p>What they did confront was a pleasant-faced, white-haired, elderly lady,
+evidently a woman of fashion and of culture, who bent forward from her
+seat with a kindly, half-apologetic smile.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Miss Wynne?&rdquo; she said inquiringly. &ldquo;How do you do? And this gentleman
+is, no doubt, Mr. Selwood, of whom I have heard? You must forgive this
+strange conduct, this extraordinary manner of getting speech with you&mdash;I
+am not a free agent. Now, as I have something to say&mdash;will you both come
+into the car and hear it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peggie, who was greatly surprised at this reception, turned diffidently
+to her companion. And Selwood, who had been gazing earnestly at the
+elderly lady&rsquo;s face, and had seen nothing but good intention in it, felt
+himself considerably embarrassed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&mdash;well, really, this is such a very strange affair altogether that I
+don&rsquo;t know what we ought to do,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;May I suggest that if you
+wish to talk to Miss Wynne, we should go to her house? It&rsquo;s only just
+round the corner, and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg&nbsp;276]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But that&rsquo;s just what I am not to do,&rdquo; replied the lady, with an amused
+laugh. &ldquo;I repeat&mdash;I am not exactly a free agent. It&rsquo;s all very strange,
+and very unpleasant, and sounds, no doubt, very mysterious, but I am
+acting&mdash;practically&mdash;under orders. Let me suggest something&mdash;will you
+and Miss Wynne come into the car, and I will tell the man to drive
+gently about until you have heard what I have to say? Come now!&mdash;I am
+not going to kidnap you, and you can&rsquo;t come to much harm by driving
+round about Portman Square for a few minutes, in the company of an old
+woman! Dickerson,&rdquo; she went on, as Selwood motioned Peggie to enter the
+car, &ldquo;drive us very slowly round about here until I tell you to stop&mdash;go
+round the square&mdash;anywhere.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The car moved gently up Baker Street, and Selwood glanced inquiringly at
+their captor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;May we have the pleasure of&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The elderly lady brought out a card-case and some papers.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am Mrs. Engledew,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I live in the Herapath Flats. I don&rsquo;t
+suppose you ever heard of me, Miss Wynne, but I knew your uncle very
+well&mdash;we had been acquaintances, nay, friends, for years. I thought it
+might be necessary to prove my <span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><i>bona fides</i></span>,&rdquo;
+she continued, with a laugh, &ldquo;so I brought some letters of Jacob
+Herapath&rsquo;s with me&mdash;letters written to me&mdash;you recognize
+his big, bold hand, of course.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There was no mistaking Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s writing, and the two young
+people, after one glance at it, exchanged glances with each other.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg&nbsp;277]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now you want to know why I am here,&rdquo; said Mrs. Engledew. &ldquo;The answer
+is plain&mdash;if astonishing. I have managed to get mixed up in this matter
+of Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s murder! That sounds odd, doesn&rsquo;t it?&mdash;nevertheless,
+it&rsquo;s true. But we can&rsquo;t go into that now. And I cannot do more than tell
+you that I simply bring a message and want an answer. My dear!&rdquo; she
+continued, laying a hand on Peggie&rsquo;s arm, &ldquo;you do not wish to see
+Barthorpe Herapath hanged?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We believe him innocent,&rdquo; replied Peggie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Quite so&mdash;he is innocent&mdash;of murder, anyway,&rdquo; said Mrs. Engledew.
+&ldquo;Now&mdash;I speak in absolute confidence, remember!&mdash;there are two men who
+know who the real murderer is. They are in touch with me&mdash;that is, one
+of them is, on behalf of both. I am really here as their emissary. They
+are prepared to give you and the police full particulars about the
+murder&mdash;for a price.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood felt himself grow more suspicious than ever. This lady was of
+charming address, pleasant smile, and apparently candid manners,
+but&mdash;price!&mdash;price for telling the truth in a case like this!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What price?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Their price is ten thousand pounds&mdash;cash,&rdquo; answered Mrs. Engledew, with
+a little shrug of her shoulders. &ldquo;Seems a great deal, doesn&rsquo;t it? But
+that is their price. They will not be moved from it. If Miss Wynne will
+agree to pay that sum, they will at once not only give their evidence as
+to the real murderer of Jacob Herapath, but they will point him out.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg&nbsp;278]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When?&rdquo; demanded Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tonight!&rdquo; replied Mrs. Engledew. &ldquo;Tonight&mdash;at an hour to be fixed after
+your agreement to their terms.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood felt himself in a difficult position. Mr. Tertius was out of
+town for the day, gone to visit an antiquarian friend in Berkshire: Mr.
+Halfpenny lived away down amongst the Surrey hills. Still, there was
+Cox-Raythwaite to turn to. But it seemed as if the lady desired an
+immediate answer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You know these men?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One only, who represents both,&rdquo; answered Mrs. Engledew.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why not point him out to the police, and let them deal with them?&rdquo;
+suggested Selwood. &ldquo;They would get his evidence out of him without any
+question of price!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have given my word,&rdquo; said Mrs. Engledew. &ldquo;I&mdash;the fact is, I am mixed
+up in this, quite innocently, of course. And I am sure that no living
+person knows the truth except these men, and just as sure that they will
+not tell what they know unless they are paid. The police could not make
+them speak if they didn&rsquo;t want to speak. They know very well that they
+have got the whip-hand of all of us in that respect!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of you, too?&rdquo; asked Selwood.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg&nbsp;279]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of me, too!&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;Nobody in the world, I&rsquo;m sure, knows the
+secret but these men. And it&rsquo;s important to me personally that they
+should reveal it. In fact, though I&rsquo;m not rich, I&rsquo;ll join Miss Wynne in
+paying their price, so far as a thousand pounds is concerned. I would
+pay more, but I really haven&rsquo;t got the money&mdash;I daren&rsquo;t go beyond a
+thousand.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood felt himself impressed by this candid offer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Precisely what do they ask&mdash;what do they propose?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This. If you agree to pay them ten thousand pounds, you and Professor
+Cox-Raythwaite are to meet them tonight. They will then tell the true
+story, and they will further take you and the police to the man, the
+real murderer,&rdquo; answered Mrs. Engledew. &ldquo;It is important that all this
+should be done tonight.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where is this meeting to take place?&rdquo; demanded Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It can take place at my flat: in fact, it must, because, as I say, I am
+unfortunately mixed up,&rdquo; said Mrs. Engledew. &ldquo;If you agree to the terms,
+you are to telephone to me&mdash;I have written my number on the card&mdash;at two
+o&rsquo;clock this afternoon. Then I shall telephone the time of meeting
+tonight, and you must bring the money with you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ten thousand pounds in cash&mdash;on Sunday!&rdquo; exclaimed Selwood. &ldquo;That, of
+course, is utterly impossible.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not cash in that sense,&rdquo; replied Mrs. Engledew. &ldquo;An open cheque will
+do. And, don&rsquo;t you see, that, I think, proves the
+<span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><i>bona fides</i></span> of the
+men. If they fail to do what they say they can and will do, you can stop
+payment of that cheque first thing tomorrow morning.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg&nbsp;280]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, that&rsquo;s so,&rdquo; agreed Selwood. He glanced at Peggie, who was
+silently listening with deep interest. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know how things stand,&rdquo;
+he went on. &ldquo;Mr. Halfpenny, Miss Wynne&rsquo;s solicitor, lives a long way out
+of town. Miss Wynne would doubtless cheerfully sacrifice ten thousand
+pounds to save her cousin&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, twenty thousand&mdash;anything!&rdquo; exclaimed Peggie. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t let us
+hesitate about money, please.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But I don&rsquo;t know whether she can draw a cheque,&rdquo; continued Selwood. &ldquo;At
+least, for such an amount as that. Perhaps Professor Cox-Raythwaite can
+tell us. Let me ask you a question or two, if you please, Mrs.
+Engledew,&rdquo; he went on. &ldquo;You say you only know one of these men. Do you
+know his name?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No&mdash;I don&rsquo;t,&rdquo; confessed Mrs. Engledew. &ldquo;Everything is secret and
+mysterious.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Are you convinced&mdash;has he done anything to convince you&mdash;of his good
+faith?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes&mdash;absolutely!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t doubt his&mdash;their&mdash;ability to clear all this up?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m quite sure they can clear it up.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Have you any idea as to the identity of the real murderer?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not the least!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One more question, then,&rdquo; concluded Selwood. &ldquo;Are the police to be
+there when Cox-Raythwaite and I come tonight?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg&nbsp;281]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; replied Mrs. Engledew. &ldquo;All I know is&mdash;just what I
+am ordered to say. Pay them the money&mdash;they will tell the truth and take
+you and the police to the real criminal. One more thing&mdash;it is
+understood that you will not approach the police between now and this
+evening. That part&mdash;the police part&mdash;is to be left to them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I understand,&rdquo; said Selwood. &ldquo;Very well&mdash;we will get out, if you
+please, and we will go straight to Professor Cox-Raythwaite. At two
+o&rsquo;clock I shall ring you up and give you our answer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He hurried Peggie into a taxi-cab as soon as Mrs. Engledew&rsquo;s car had
+gone away, and they went hastily to Endsleigh Gardens, where Professor
+Cox-Raythwaite listened to the strange story in dead silence.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mrs. Engledew&mdash;lady living in Herapath Flats&mdash;old friend of
+Jacob&rsquo;s&mdash;possessed letters of his&mdash;instrument for two men in possession
+of secret&mdash;willing to fork out a thousand of her own,&rdquo; he muttered.
+&ldquo;Gad!&mdash;I take that to be genuine, Selwood! The only question is for
+Peggie here&mdash;does she wish to throw away nine thousand to save
+Barthorpe&rsquo;s neck?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The only question, Professor,&rdquo; said Peggie, reprovingly, &ldquo;is&mdash;can I do
+it? Can I draw a cheque for that amount?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; replied the Professor. &ldquo;Everything&rsquo;s in order. Barthorpe
+withdrew that wretched caveat&mdash;the will&rsquo;s been proved&mdash;every penny that
+Jacob possessed is yours. Draw a cheque for fifty thousand, if you
+like!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And you will go with Mr. Selwood?&rdquo; asked Peggie, with a touch of
+anxiety which was not lost on the Professor.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg&nbsp;282]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go with him&mdash;and take care of him, too,&rdquo; answered the Professor,
+digging his big fingers into Selwood&rsquo;s ribs. &ldquo;Very good. Now stop here
+and lunch with me, and at two o&rsquo;clock we&rsquo;ll telephone.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He and Peggie stood breathlessly waiting in the hall that afternoon
+while Selwood was busy at the telephone in an adjacent lobby. Selwood
+came back to them nodding his head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You and I, Professor, at her flat&mdash;tonight, at
+nine o&rsquo;clock.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg&nbsp;283]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">the interrupted dinner-party</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt&rsquo;s recent inquiries in connection with the Herapath affair had
+been all very well from a strictly professional point of view, but not
+so well from another. For nearly twelve months he had been engaged to a
+sweet girl, of whom he was very fond, and who thoroughly reciprocated
+his affection; up to the time of the Herapath murder he had contrived to
+spend a certain portion of each day with her, and to her he had
+invariably devoted the whole of his Sundays. In this love affair he was
+joined by his friend, to whom Triffitt&rsquo;s young lady had introduced her
+great friend, with whom Carver had promptly become infatuated. These
+ladies, both very young and undeniably charming, spent the greater part
+of the working week at the School of Needlework, in South Kensington,
+where they fashioned various beautiful objects with busy needles;
+Sundays they gave up to their swains, and every Sunday ended with a
+little dinner of four at some cheap restaurant whereat you could get
+quite a number of courses at the fixed price of half a crown or so and
+drink light wine which was very little dearer than pale ale. All parties
+concerned looked forward throughout the week to these joyful occasions;
+the girls wore their best frocks, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg&nbsp;284]</a></span>the young men came out bravely in
+the matter of neckties; there was laughter and gaiety and a general
+escape from the prosaic matters which obtained from Monday to
+Saturday&mdash;consequently, Triffitt felt it a serious thing that attention
+to this Herapath business had come to interfere with his love-making and
+his Sunday feast of mirth and gladness. More than once he had been
+obliged to let Carver go alone to the usual rendezvous; he himself had
+been running hither and thither after chances of news which never
+materialized, while his sweetheart played gooseberry to the more
+favoured people. And as he was very much in love, Triffitt had often
+been tempted to throw his clues and his theories to the winds, and to
+vow himself to the service of Venus rather than to that of Mercury.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg&nbsp;285]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But on that Sunday which saw the white-haired lady interviewing Peggie
+Wynne and Selwood, Triffitt, to his great delight, found that newspaper
+requirements were not going to interfere with him. The hue-and-cry after
+the missing Burchill was dying down&mdash;the police (so Davidge told
+Triffitt in strict confidence) were of the firm opinion that Burchill
+had escaped to the continent&mdash;probably within a few hours of the moment
+wherein he made his unceremonious exit from Mr. Halfpenny&rsquo;s office. Even
+Markledew was not so keen about the Herapath affair as he had been. His
+policy was&mdash;a new day, a new affair. The Herapath mystery was becoming a
+little stale&mdash;it would get staler unless a fresh and startling
+development took place. As it was, nothing was likely to arise which
+would titillate the public until Barthorpe Herapath, now safely lodged
+in the remand prison, was brought to trial, or unless Burchill was
+arrested. Consequently, Triffitt was not expected to make up a half or a
+whole column of recent and sensational Herapath news every morning. And
+so he gladly took this Sunday for a return to the primrose paths. He and
+Carver met their sweethearts; they took them to the Albert Hall Sunday
+afternoon concert&mdash;nothing better offering in the middle of winter&mdash;they
+went to tea at the sweethearts&rsquo; lodgings; later in the evening they
+carried them off to the accustomed Sunday dinner.</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt and Carver had become thoroughly seasoned men of the world in
+the matter of finding out good places whereat to dine well and cheaply.
+They knew all the Soho restaurants. They had sampled several in Oxford
+Street and in Tottenham Court Road. But by sheer luck they had found
+one&mdash;an Italian restaurant&mdash;in South Kensington which was, in their
+opinion, superior to all of their acquaintance. This establishment had
+many advantages for lovers. To begin with, it bore a poetical name&mdash;the
+Caf&eacute; Venezia&mdash;Triffitt, who frequently read Byron and Shelley to his
+adored one, said it made one think of moonlight and gondolas, and
+similar adjuncts to what he called <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><i>parfaite amour</i></span>.
+Then it was divided off into little cabinets, just holding four
+people&mdash;that was an advantage when you were sure of your company. And
+for the <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><i>prix fixe</i></span>
+of two shillings they gave you quite a good dinner; also their Chianti was
+of exceptional
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg&nbsp;286]</a></span>
+
+quality, and according to the proprietor, it came straight from Siena.</p>
+
+<p>On this Sunday evening, then, Triffitt on one side of a table with his
+lady-love, Carver on the other with his, made merry, with no thought of
+anything but the joys of the moment. They had arrived at the last stages
+of the feast; the heroes puffed cigarettes and sipped Benedictine; the
+heroines daintily drank their sweetened coffee. They all chattered
+gaily, out of the fulness of their youthful hearts; not one of them had
+any idea that anything was going to happen. And in the midst of their
+lightsomeness, Triffitt, who faced a mirror, started, dropped his
+cigarette, upset his liqueur glass and turned pale. For an instant he
+clutched the tablecloth, staring straight in front of him; then with a
+great effort he controlled his emotion and with a cautious hissing of
+his breath, gazed warningly at Carver.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Sh!&rdquo; whispered Triffitt. &ldquo;Not a word! And don&rsquo;t move&mdash;don&rsquo;t show a
+sign, any of you. Carver&mdash;turn your head very slowly and look behind
+you. At the bar!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At the entrance to that restaurant there was a bar, whereat it was
+possible to get a drink. There were two or three men, so occupied,
+standing at this bar at that moment&mdash;Carver, leisurely turning to
+inspect them, suddenly started as violently as Triffitt had started a
+moment before.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good heavens!&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;Burchill!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Quiet!&rdquo; commanded Triffitt. &ldquo;Quiet, all of you. By Gad!&mdash;this is&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg&nbsp;287]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He ended in an eloquent silence and with a glare at his companions
+which would have imposed silence on an unruly class-room. He was already
+at work&mdash;the quick, sure journalistic instinct had come up on top and
+was rapidly realizing the situation. That the man standing there,
+openly, calmly, taking a drink of some sort, was Frank Burchill he had
+no more doubt than of his own identity. The thing was&mdash;what was to be
+done?</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt was as quick of action as of thought&mdash;in two seconds he had
+made up his mind. With another warning glance at the startled girls, he
+bent across the table to Carver.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Carver!&rdquo; he whispered. &ldquo;Do exactly what I tell you. When Burchill goes
+out, Trixie and I&rsquo;ll follow him. You pay the bill&mdash;then you and Lettie
+jump into the first taxi you can get and go to Scotland Yard. Find
+Davidge! If Davidge isn&rsquo;t there, get somebody else. Wait there until I
+ring you up! What I&rsquo;ll do will be this&mdash;we&rsquo;ll follow Burchill, and if I
+see that he&rsquo;s going to take to train or cab I&rsquo;ll call help and stop him.
+You follow me? As soon as I&rsquo;ve taken action, or run him to earth, I&rsquo;ll
+ring up Scotland Yard, and then&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He&rsquo;s going,&rdquo; announced Carver, who had taken advantage of the many
+mirrors to keep his eye on Burchill. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s off! I understand&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg&nbsp;288]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Triffitt was already leading his sweetheart quietly out. In the gloom of
+the street he saw Burchill&rsquo;s tall figure striding away towards Cromwell
+Road. Triffitt&rsquo;s companion was an athletically inclined young
+woman&mdash;long walks in the country on summer Sundays had toughened her
+powers of locomotion and she strode out manfully in response to
+Triffitt&rsquo;s command to hurry up.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lucky that you were with me, Trixie!&rdquo; exclaimed Triffitt. &ldquo;You make a
+splendid blind. Supposing he does look round and sees that he&rsquo;s being
+followed? Why, he&rsquo;d never think that we were after him. Slip your hand
+in my arm&mdash;he&rsquo;ll think we&rsquo;re just a couple of sweethearts, going his
+way. Gad!&mdash;what a surprise! And what a cheek he has&mdash;with all those
+bills out against him!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t think he&rsquo;ll shoot you if he catches sight of you?&rdquo; asked
+Trixie, anxiously. &ldquo;He&rsquo;d be sure to recognize you, wouldn&rsquo;t he?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll not come within shooting distance,&rdquo; replied Triffitt grimly. &ldquo;All
+I want to do is to track him. Of course, if he gets into any vehicle,
+I&rsquo;ll have to act. Let&rsquo;s draw a bit nearer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Burchill showed no sign of hailing any vehicle; indeed, he showed no
+sign of anything but cool confidence. It was certainly nearly nine
+o&rsquo;clock of a dark winter evening, but there was plenty of artificial
+light in the streets, and Burchill made no attempt to escape its glare.
+He walked on, smoking a cigar, jauntily swinging an umbrella, he passed
+and was passed by innumerable people; more than one policeman glanced at
+his tall figure and took no notice. And Triffitt chuckled cynically.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg&nbsp;289]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There you are, Trixie!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s a fellow who&rsquo;s wanted about
+as badly as can be, whose picture&rsquo;s posted up outside every
+police-station in London, and at every port in England, and he walks
+about, and stares at people, and passes policemen as unconcernedly as I
+do. The fact of the case is that if I went to that bobby and pointed
+Burchill out, and told the bobby who he is, all that bobby would say
+would be, &lsquo;Who are you a-kiddin&rsquo; of?&rsquo;&mdash;or words to that equivalent. And
+so&mdash;still ahead he goes, and we after him! And&mdash;where?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Burchill evidently knew very well where he was going. He crossed
+Cromwell Road, went up Queen&rsquo;s Road, turned into Queen&rsquo;s Gate Terrace,
+and leisurely pursuing his way, proceeded to cut through various streets
+and thoroughfares towards Kensington High Street. Always he looked
+forward; never once did he turn nor seem to have any suspicion that he
+was being followed. There was nothing here of the furtive slink, the
+frightened slouch of the criminal escaped from justice; the man&rsquo;s entire
+bearing was that of fearlessness; he strode across Kensington High
+Street in the full glare of light before the Town Hall and under the
+noses of several policemen.</p>
+
+<p>Five minutes later Triffitt pulled himself and Trixie up with a gasp.
+The chase had come to an end&mdash;for that moment, at any rate. Boldly,
+openly, with absolute nonchalance, Burchill walked into a
+brilliantly-lighted entrance of the Herapath Flats!</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg&nbsp;290]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">the yorkshire proverb</p>
+
+<p>In the course of Triffitt&rsquo;s brief and fairly glorious journalistic
+career, he had enjoyed and suffered a few startling experiences. He had
+been fastened up in the darker regions of a London sewer in flood,
+wondering if he would ever breathe the fine air of Fleet Street again or
+go down with the rats that scurried by him. He had been down a coal-mine
+in the bad hour which follows an explosion. He had several times risked
+his neck; his limbs had often been in danger; he had known what it was
+to feel thumpings of the heart and catchings of the breath from sheer
+fright. He had come face to face with surprise, with astonishment, with
+audacious turnings of Fortune&rsquo;s glass. But never in all his life had he
+been so surprised as he now was, and after one long, low whistle he
+relieved his feelings by quoting verse:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Is things what they seem?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or is visions about?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Trixie!&rdquo; he went on in a low, concentrated voice. &ldquo;This licks all! This
+bangs Banagher! This&mdash;but words fail me, Trixie!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is it, Herbert?&rdquo; demanded Trixie anxiously. &ldquo;What does it all
+mean?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg&nbsp;291]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; responded Triffitt, wildly smiting the crown of his deerstalker.
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s just it! What does it all mean, my dear! Gad!&mdash;this is&mdash;to use
+the common language of the common man, a fair licker! That that chap
+Burchill should march as bold as brass into those Herapath Flats,
+is&mdash;well, I couldn&rsquo;t be more surprised, Trixie, than if you were to tell
+me that you are the Queen of Sheba&rsquo;s grand-daughter! Not so much so, in
+fact. You see&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But at that moment a taxi-cab came speeding round the corner, and from
+it presently emerged Carver and Davidge. The detective, phlegmatic,
+quiet as ever, nodded familiarly to Triffitt and lifted his hat to
+Trixie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Evening, Mr. Triffitt,&rdquo; he said quietly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He&rsquo;s in there!&rdquo; exclaimed Triffitt, grabbing Davidge&rsquo;s arm and pointing
+wildly to the brilliantly lighted entrance, wherein two or three
+uniformed servants lounged about to open doors and attend to elevators.
+&ldquo;Walked in as if the whole place belonged to him! You know&mdash;Burchill!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, just so!&rdquo; responded Davidge unconcernedly. &ldquo;Quite so&mdash;I wouldn&rsquo;t
+name no names in the street if I were you, Mr. Triffitt. Ah!&mdash;to be
+sure, now. Well, of course, he would have to go in somewhere, wouldn&rsquo;t
+he?&mdash;as well here as anywhere, perhaps. Yes. Now, if this young lady
+would join the other young lady in the cab, Mr. Carver&rsquo;ll escort &rsquo;em
+home, and then he can come back here if he likes&mdash;we might have a bit of
+a job for him. And when the ladies retire, you and me can do our bit of
+business, d&rsquo;ye see, Mr. Triffitt. What?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg&nbsp;292]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Trixie, urged towards the cab, showed signs of uneasiness.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Promise me you won&rsquo;t get shot, or poisoned, or anything, Herbert!&rdquo; she
+entreated. &ldquo;If you do&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We aren&rsquo;t going in for any shooting tonight, miss,&rdquo; said Davidge
+gravely. &ldquo;Some other night, perhaps. All quiet and serene tonight&mdash;just
+a little family gathering, as it were&mdash;all pleasant!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But that dreadful man!&rdquo; exclaimed Trixie, pointing to the door of the
+flats. &ldquo;Supposing&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, but we won&rsquo;t suppose,&rdquo; answered Davidge. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s all right, he is.
+Mild as milk we shall find him&mdash;my word on it, miss. Now,&rdquo; he continued,
+when he had gently but firmly assisted Trixie into the cab, said a word
+or two to Carver, taken Triffitt&rsquo;s arm, and led him across the street,
+&ldquo;now we&rsquo;ll talk a bit, quietly. So he&rsquo;s gone in there, has he, Mr.
+Triffitt? Just so. Alone, now?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Quite alone,&rdquo; replied Triffitt. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s it all about&mdash;what does it
+mean? You seem remarkably cool about it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I shouldn&rsquo;t be much use in my trade if I didn&rsquo;t keep cool, Mr.
+Triffitt,&rdquo; answered Davidge. &ldquo;You see, I know a bit&mdash;perhaps a good
+deal&mdash;of what&rsquo;s going on&mdash;or what&rsquo;s going to go on, presently. So will
+you. I&rsquo;ll take you in there.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There? Where?&rdquo; demanded Triffitt.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where he&rsquo;s gone,&rdquo; said Davidge. &ldquo;Where&mdash;if I&rsquo;m not mistaken&mdash;that
+chap&rsquo;s going.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He pointed to a man who had come quickly round the corner from the
+direction of the High Street, a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg&nbsp;293]</a></span>middle-sized, apparently well-dressed
+man, who hurried up the broad steps and disappeared within the
+glass-panelled doors.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s another of &rsquo;em,&rdquo; observed Davidge. &ldquo;And I&rsquo;m a Dutchman if this
+taxi-cab doesn&rsquo;t hold t&rsquo;other two. You&rsquo;ll recognize them, easy.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt gaped with astonishment as he saw Professor Cox-Raythwaite and
+Selwood descend from the taxi-cab, pass up the steps, and disappear.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Talk of mysteries!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;This&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Davidge pulled out an old-fashioned watch.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nine o&rsquo;clock,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;Come on&mdash;we&rsquo;ll go in. Now, then, Mr.
+Triffitt,&rdquo; he continued, pressing his companion&rsquo;s arm, &ldquo;let me give you
+a tip. You mayn&rsquo;t know that I&rsquo;m a Yorkshireman&mdash;I am! We&rsquo;ve a good old
+proverb&mdash;it&rsquo;s often cast up against us: &lsquo;Hear all&mdash;say naught!&rsquo; You&rsquo;ll
+see me act on it tonight&mdash;act on it yourself. And&mdash;a word in your
+ear!&mdash;you&rsquo;re going to have the biggest surprise you ever had in your
+life&mdash;and so&rsquo;s a certain somebody else that we shall see in five
+minutes! Come on!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He took Triffitt&rsquo;s arm firmly in his, led him up the stairs, in at the
+doors. The hall-porter came forward.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Take me up,&rdquo; said Davidge, &ldquo;to Mrs. Engledew&rsquo;s flat.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg&nbsp;294]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">burchill fills the stage</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to Triffitt, who possessed, and sedulously cultivated, a sense
+of the dramatic, that the scene to which he and Davidge were presently
+conducted by a trim and somewhat surprised-looking parlour-maid, was one
+which might have been bodily lifted from the stage of any theatre
+devoted to work of the melodramatic order. The detective and the
+reporter found themselves on the threshold of a handsomely furnished
+dining-room, vividly lighted by lamps which threw a warm pink glow over
+the old oak furniture and luxurious fittings. On one side of the big
+table sat Professor Cox-Raythwaite and Selwood both looking a little
+mystified; at the further end sat a shortish, rather fat man, obviously
+a foreigner, who betrayed anxiety in every line of his rather oily
+countenance. And posed in an elegant attitude on the hearthrug, one
+elbow resting on the black marble of the mantelpiece, one hand toying
+with a cigarette, stood Burchill, scrupulously attired as usual, and
+conveying, or endeavouring to convey to whoever looked upon him, that
+he, of all people present, was master of himself and all of the scene.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg&nbsp;295]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Triffitt took all this in at a glance; his next glance was at the
+elegant, white-haired lady who came forward to meet him and his
+companion. Davidge gave him a nudge as he executed a duck-like bow.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Servant, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; said Davidge in his quietest and coolest manner. &ldquo;I
+took the liberty of bringing a friend with me. You see, ma&rsquo;am, as these
+proceedings are in what we may call the public way, Mrs. Engledew, no
+objection I&rsquo;m sure to having a press gentleman at them. Mr. Triffitt,
+ma&rsquo;am, of the <i>Argus</i> newspaper. Known to these gentlemen&mdash;all of
+&rsquo;em&mdash;unless it&rsquo;s the gentleman at the far end, there. Known, at any
+rate, to Mr. Selwood and the Professor,&rdquo; continued Davidge, nodding with
+much familiarity to the person he named. &ldquo;And likewise to Mr. Burchill
+there. How do you do, sir, this evening? You and me, I think, has met
+before, and shall no doubt meet again. Well, ma&rsquo;am, and now that I&rsquo;ve
+come, perhaps I might ask a question. What have I come for?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Davidge had kept up this flow of talk while he took stock of his
+surroundings, and now, with another nudge of his companion&rsquo;s elbow, he
+took a chair between the door and the table, planted himself firmly in
+it, put his hands on top of his stout stick, and propped his chin on his
+hands. He looked at Mrs. Engledew once more, and then let his eyes make
+another inspection of her guests.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg&nbsp;296]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What have I come for, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;To hear those revelations
+you spoke of when you called on me this afternoon? Just so. Well, ma&rsquo;am,
+the only question now is&mdash;who&rsquo;s going to make &rsquo;em? For,&rdquo; he added,
+sitting up again after his further inspection, and bestowing a general
+smile all round, &ldquo;revelations, ma&rsquo;am, is what I chiefly hanker after,
+and I shall be glad&mdash;delighted!&mdash;to hear any specimens from&mdash;anybody as
+chooses to make &rsquo;em!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Engledew looked at Burchill as she resumed her seat.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think Mr. Burchill is the most likely person to tell you what there
+is to tell,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;His friend&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah!&mdash;the gentleman at the other end of the table, no doubt,&rdquo; observed
+Davidge. &ldquo;How do you do, sir? And what might that gentleman&rsquo;s name be,
+now?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Burchill, who had been watching the detective carefully, threw away his
+cigarette and showed an inclination to speak.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Look here, Davidge!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You know very well why you&rsquo;re
+here&mdash;you&rsquo;re here to hear the real truth about the Herapath murder! Mrs.
+Engledew told you that this afternoon, when she called on you at
+Scotland Yard. Now the only two people who know the real truth are
+myself and my friend there&mdash;Mr. Dimambro.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Selwood and Cox-Raythwaite, who until then had remained in ignorance of
+the little foreigner&rsquo;s identity, started and looked at him with
+interest. So this was the missing witness! But Davidge remained cool and
+unimpressed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg&nbsp;297]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, just so!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Foreign gentleman, no doubt. And you and Mr.
+Dimambro are the only persons who know the real truth about that little
+affair, eh, Mr. Burchill. Very good, so as&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;As Mr. Dimambro doesn&rsquo;t speak English very well&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; began Burchill.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I speak it&mdash;you understand&mdash;enough to say a good many words&mdash;but not so
+good as him,&rdquo; observed Mr. Dimambro, waving a fat hand. &ldquo;He say it for
+me&mdash;for both of us, eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To be sure, sir, to be sure,&rdquo; said Davidge. &ldquo;Mr. Burchill is gifted
+that way, of course. Well, Mr. Burchill, and what might this story be,
+now? Deeply interesting, I&rsquo;ll be bound.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Burchill pulled a chair to the table, opposite Selwood and the
+Professor. He put the tips of his fingers together and assumed an
+explanatory manner.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I shall have to begin at the beginning,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll all please to
+follow me closely. Now, to commence&mdash;Mrs. Engledew permits me to speak
+for her as well as for Mr. Dimambro. The fact is, I can put the
+circumstances of the whole affair into a consecutive manner. And I will
+preface what I have to say by making a statement respecting a fact in
+the life of the late Mr. Herapath which will, I believe, be
+substantiated by Mr. Selwood, my successor as secretary to the deceased
+gentleman. Mr. Herapath, in addition to being an authority on the
+building of up-to-date flats, was also more or less of an expert in
+precious stones. He not only bought and sold in these things, but he
+gave advice to his friends in matters relating to them. Mr. Selwood has,
+I am sure, had experience of that fact?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg&nbsp;298]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To a certain extent&mdash;yes,&rdquo; agreed Selwood. &ldquo;But I had not been long
+enough in Mr. Herapath&rsquo;s employ to know how much he went in for that
+sort of thing.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is immaterial,&rdquo; continued Burchill. &ldquo;We establish the fact that he
+did. Now we come to the first chapter of our story. This lady, Mrs.
+Engledew, a tenant of this flat since the Herapath Estate was built, is
+an old acquaintance&mdash;I am permitted to say, friend&mdash;of the late Jacob
+Herapath. She occasionally consulted him on matters of business. On
+November 12th last she consulted him on another affair&mdash;though it had,
+of course, a business complexion. Mrs. Engledew, by the death of a
+relative, had just come into possession of some old family
+jewels&mdash;chiefly diamonds. These diamonds, which, Mrs. Engledew tells me,
+had been valued by Spinks at about seven thousand pounds, were in very
+old, considerably worn settings. Mrs. Engledew wished to have them
+reset. Knowing that Jacob Herapath had great taste and knowledge in that
+direction, she saw him at his office on the noon of November 12th,
+showed him the diamonds, and asked his advice. Jacob Herapath&mdash;I am
+giving you Mrs. Engledew&rsquo;s account&mdash;told her to leave the diamonds with
+him, as he was going to see, that very day, an expert in that line, to
+whom he would show the stones with the idea of his giving him his
+opinion on what ought to be done with them. Mrs. Engledew handed him the
+diamonds in a small case, which he put in his pocket. I hope,&rdquo; added
+Burchill, turning to Mrs. Engledew, &ldquo;that I have given all this quite
+correctly?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg&nbsp;299]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Quite,&rdquo; assented Mrs. Engledew. &ldquo;It is perfectly correct.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg&nbsp;300]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then,&rdquo; continued Burchill, &ldquo;we pass on to Mr. Dimambro. Mr. Luigi
+Dimambro is a dealer in precious stones, who resides in Genoa, but
+travels widely about Europe in pursuance of his business. Mr. Dimambro
+had had several dealings with Jacob Herapath during past years, but
+previous to November 12th last they had not met for something like
+twelve months. On their last previous meeting Jacob Herapath told Mr.
+Dimambro that he was collecting pearls of a certain sort and
+size&mdash;specimens of which he showed him&mdash;with a view to presenting his
+niece, Miss Wynne, with a necklace which was to be formed of them. He
+gave Dimambro a commission to collect such pearls for him. On November
+11th last Dimambro arrived in London from the Continent, and wrote to
+Mr. Herapath to tell him of his arrival, and to notify him that he had
+brought with him some pearls of the sort he wanted. Mr. Herapath
+thereupon made an appointment with Dimambro at the House of Commons on
+the evening of November 12th at half-past ten o&rsquo;clock. Dimambro kept
+that appointment, showed Mr. Herapath the pearls which he had brought,
+sold them to him, and received from him, in payment for them, a cheque
+for three thousand guineas. This transaction being conducted, Mr.
+Herapath drew from his pocket (the same pocket in which he had already
+placed the pearls, which I understand, were wrapped up in a small bag or
+case of wash-leather) the diamonds which Mrs. Engledew had entrusted to
+him, showed them to Dimambro, and asked his opinion as to how they
+could best be reset. It is not material to this explanation to repeat
+what Dimambro said on that matter&mdash;suffice it to say that Dimambro gave
+an expert opinion, that Mr. Herapath once more pocketed the diamonds,
+and soon afterwards left the House of Commons for his estate offices
+with both lots of valuable stones in his possession&mdash;some ten thousand
+pounds&rsquo; worth in all. As for Dimambro, he went home to the hotel at
+which he was stopping&mdash;a little place called the Ravenna, in Soho, an
+Italian house&mdash;next morning, first thing, he cashed his cheque, and
+before noon he left for the Continent. He had not heard of the murder of
+Jacob Herapath when he left London, and he did not hear of it until next
+day. I think I have given Mr. Dimambro&rsquo;s account accurately&mdash;his account
+so far,&rdquo; concluded Burchill, turning to the Italian. &ldquo;If not, he will
+correct me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Quite right, quite right!&rdquo; said Dimambro, who had listened eagerly. &ldquo;I
+do not hear of the murder, eh, until I am in Berlin&mdash;it is, yes, next
+day&mdash;day after I leave London&mdash;that I hear of it, you understand? I then
+see it in the newspaper&mdash;English news, eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why did you not come back at once?&rdquo; asked Cox-Raythwaite.</p>
+
+<p>Dimambro spread out his hands.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg&nbsp;301]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I have my business&mdash;very particular,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Besides, it has
+nothing to do with me, eh? I don&rsquo;t see no&mdash;no connection between me and
+that&mdash;no! But in time, I do come back, and then&mdash;he tell you,&rdquo; he broke
+off, pointing to Burchill. &ldquo;He tell you better, see?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg&nbsp;302]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am taking everything in order,&rdquo; said Burchill. &ldquo;And for the present I
+have done with Mr. Dimambro. Now I come to myself. I shall have to go
+into details about myself which I should not give if it were not for
+these exceptional circumstances. Mr. Davidge, I am sure, will understand
+me. Well, about myself&mdash;you will all remember that at both the coroner&rsquo;s
+inquest and at the proceedings before the magistrate at which Barthorpe
+Herapath was present and I&mdash;for reasons well known!&mdash;was not, there was
+mention made of a letter which I had written to Jacob Herapath and was
+subsequently found in Barthorpe&rsquo;s possession, on his arrest. That letter
+was taken to be a blackmailing letter&mdash;I don&rsquo;t know whether any of you
+will believe me, and I don&rsquo;t care whether you do or not, but I declare
+that it was not meant to be a letter of that sort, though its wording
+might set up that opinion. However, Jacob Herapath resented that letter,
+and on its receipt he wrote to me showing that it had greatly displeased
+him. Now, I did not want to displease Jacob Herapath, and on receipt of
+his letter, I determined to see him personally at once. Being, of
+course, thoroughly familiar with his habits, I knew that he generally
+left the House of Commons about a quarter past eleven, every night when
+the House was sitting. I accordingly walked down to Palace Yard,
+intending to accost him. I arrived at the entrance to the Hall soon
+after eleven. A few minutes later Mountain, the coachman, drove up with
+the <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">coup&eacute;</span> brougham.
+I remained within the shadow of the porch&mdash;there were other people
+about&mdash;several Members, and men who were with them. At a quarter past
+eleven Jacob Herapath came down the Hall, accompanied by Dimambro. I knew
+Dimambro, though I had not seen him for some time&mdash;I used to see him,
+very occasionally, during my secretaryship to Mr. Herapath. When I saw
+these two in conversation, I drew back, and neither of them saw me. I did
+not want to accost Mr. Herapath in the presence of a second party. I
+watched him part from Dimambro, and I heard him tell Mountain to drive to
+the estate office. When both he and Dimambro had gone, I walked out into
+Parliament Square, and after thinking things over, I hailed a passing
+taxi-cab, and told the driver to go to Kensington High Street, and to pull
+up by the Metropolitan Station.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Burchill here paused&mdash;to give Davidge a peculiarly knowing look.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg&nbsp;303]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now I want you all&mdash;and particularly Mr. Davidge&mdash;to follow closely
+what I&rsquo;m going to tell you,&rdquo; he continued. &ldquo;I got out of the cab at the
+station in the High Street, dismissed it, walked a little way along the
+street, and then crossed over and made for the Herapath Flats&mdash;for the
+estate office entrance. I think you are all very well acquainted with
+that entrance. You know that it lies in a covered carriage way which
+leads from the side-street into the big quadrangle round which the flats
+are built. As I went up the side-street, on the opposite side, mind, to
+the entrance, I saw a man come out of the covered carriage way. That
+man I knew!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Burchill made a dramatic pause, looking impressively around him amidst a
+dead silence.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Knew!&rdquo; he repeated, shaking his finger at the expectant faces. &ldquo;Knew
+well! But&mdash;I am not going to tell you his name at this moment. For the
+present we will call him Mr. X.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg&nbsp;304]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">davidge&rsquo;s trump card</p>
+
+<p>Burchill paused for a moment, to give full effect to this dramatic
+announcement, which, to tell truth, certainly impressed every member of
+his audience but one. That one skilfully concealed his real feelings
+under a show of feigned interest.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You never say!&rdquo; exclaimed Davidge, dropping into a favourite
+colloquialism of his native county. &ldquo;Dear me, today! A man that you
+knew, Mr. Burchill, and that for the present you&rsquo;ll call Mr. X. You knew
+him well, then?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Better than I know you,&rdquo; replied Burchill. He was beginning to be
+suspicious of Davidge&rsquo;s tone, and his resentment of it showed in his
+answer. &ldquo;Well enough to know him and not to mistake him, anyhow! And
+mind you, there was nothing surprising in his being there at that time
+of night&mdash;that&rsquo;s a point that you should bear in mind, Davidge&mdash;it&rsquo;s in
+your line, that. I knew so much of Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s methods and doings
+that it was quite a reasonable thing for this man to be coming out of
+the estate offices just before midnight.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Exactly, sir&mdash;I follow you,&rdquo; said Davidge. &ldquo;Ah!&mdash;and what might this
+Mr. X. do then, Mr. Burchill?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Burchill, who had addressed his remarks chiefly to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg&nbsp;305]</a></span>the listeners on the
+other side of the table, and notably to Cox-Raythwaite, turned away from
+the detective and went on.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This man&mdash;Mr. X,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;came quickly out of the door, turned down
+the side-street a little, then turned back, passed the
+carriage-entrance, and went away up the street in the opposite
+direction. He turned on his own tracks so quickly that I was certain he
+had seen somebody coming whom he did not wish to meet. He&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Excuse me a moment,&rdquo; broke in Cox-Raythwaite. &ldquo;How was it X. didn&rsquo;t see
+you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Because I was on the opposite side of the street, in deep shadow,&rdquo;
+replied Burchill. &ldquo;Besides that, the instant I caught sight of him I
+quietly slipped back into a doorway. I remained there while he turned
+and hurried up the street, for I was sure he had seen somebody coming,
+and I wanted to find out who it was. And in another minute Barthorpe
+Herapath came along, walking quickly. Then I understood&mdash;X. had seen him
+in the distance, and didn&rsquo;t want to meet him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just so, just so,&rdquo; murmured Davidge. &ldquo;To be sure.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg&nbsp;306]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Barthorpe Herapath turned into the carriageway and went into the
+office,&rdquo; continued Burchill. &ldquo;Now, as I&rsquo;ve already said, I knew Jacob
+Herapath&rsquo;s methods; I hadn&rsquo;t served him for nothing. He was the sort of
+man who makes no distinction between day and night&mdash;it was quite a
+common thing for him to fix up business appointments with people at
+midnight. I&rsquo;ve been present at such appointments many a time. So, I
+dare say, has Mr. Selwood; any one who acted as secretary to Jacob
+Herapath knows well that he&rsquo;d think nothing of transacting business at
+three o&rsquo;clock in the morning. So I knew, of course, that Barthorpe had
+gone there to keep some such appointment. I also knew that it would
+probably last some time. Now I wanted to see Jacob Herapath alone. And
+as there didn&rsquo;t seem to be any chance of it just then, I went home to my
+flat in Maida Vale.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Walked in?&rdquo; asked Davidge.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you&rsquo;re particular as to the means, I took a taxi-cab at the Gardens
+end of the High Street,&rdquo; replied Burchill, half-contemptuously. He
+turned his attention to Selwood and the Professor again. &ldquo;Now, I&rsquo;m going
+to tell you the plain truth about what happened afterwards,&rdquo; he
+continued. &ldquo;This part of the story is for the particular benefit of you
+two gentlemen, though it has its proper connection with all the rest of
+the narrative. I sat up rather late when I got home that night, and I
+lay in bed next day until afternoon&mdash;in fact, I&rsquo;d only just risen when
+Barthorpe Herapath called on me at three o&rsquo;clock. Now, as I don&rsquo;t have
+papers delivered, but go out to buy what I want, it&rsquo;s the fact that I
+never heard of Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s murder until Barthorpe told me of it,
+then! That&rsquo;s the truth. And I&rsquo;ll at once anticipate the question that
+you&rsquo;ll naturally want to ask. Why didn&rsquo;t I at once tell Barthorpe of
+what I&rsquo;d seen the night before?&mdash;of the presence of the man whom we&rsquo;re
+calling Mr. X.?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg&nbsp;307]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just so!&rdquo; murmured Davidge. &ldquo;Ah, yes, why not?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you,&rdquo; continued Burchill. &ldquo;Because Barthorpe immediately
+sprang upon me the matter of the will. And I just as immediately
+recognized&mdash;I think I may count myself as a quick thinker&mdash;that the
+really important matter just then was not the murder of Jacob Herapath,
+but the ultimate disposal of Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s immense wealth.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Clever!&rdquo; sighed Davidge. &ldquo;Uncommonly clever!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg&nbsp;308]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, Professor Cox-Raythwaite, and you, Mr. Selwood,&rdquo; Burchill went on,
+adding new earnestness to his tone. &ldquo;I want you to fully understand that
+I&rsquo;m giving you the exact truth. I firmly believed at that moment, and I
+continued to believe until the eventful conference at Mr. Halfpenny&rsquo;s
+office, that the gentleman whom I had known as Mr. Tertius was in
+reality Arthur John Wynne, forger and ex-convict. I say I firmly
+believed it, and I&rsquo;ll tell you why. During my secretaryship to Jacob
+Herapath, he one day asked me to clear out a box full of old papers and
+documents. In doing so I came across an old North-country newspaper
+which contained a full account of the trial at Lancaster Assizes of
+Arthur John Wynne on various charges of forgery. Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s name,
+of course, cropped up in it, as a relative. The similarity of the names
+of Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s ward, Miss Wynne, and that of the forger, roused my
+suspicions, and I not only put two and two together, but I made some
+inquiries privately, and I formed the definite conclusion that Tertius
+and Wynne were identical, and that the semi-mystery of Tertius&rsquo;s
+residence in Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s house was then fully accounted for. So
+when Barthorpe told me what he did, and explained his anxiety about the
+will, I saw my way to upsetting that will, for his benefit and for my
+own. If I swore that I&rsquo;d never signed that will, and could prove that
+Tertius was Wynne, the forger, why then, of course, the will would be
+upset, for it seemed to me that any jury would believe that Tertius, or
+Wynne, had forged the will for his daughter&rsquo;s benefit. And so Barthorpe
+and I fixed that up. Reprehensible, no doubt, gentlemen, but we all have
+to live, and besides, Barthorpe promised me that he&rsquo;d treat Miss Wynne
+most handsomely. Well, that procedure was settled&mdash;with the result that
+we&rsquo;re all aware of. And now I&rsquo;d like to ask Mr. Davidge there a
+question&mdash;as I&rsquo;m about to tell him who the real murderer of Jacob
+Herapath was, perhaps he&rsquo;ll answer it. I take it, Davidge, that the only
+evidence you had against me in regard to the murder was the document
+which you found at my flat, by which Barthorpe Herapath promised to pay
+me ten per cent. on the value of the Herapath estate? That and the fact
+that Barthorpe and I were in league about the will? Come now&mdash;as all&rsquo;s
+being cleared up, isn&rsquo;t that so?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Davidge rubbed his chin with affected indifference.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg&nbsp;309]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, well, you can put it down at something like that, if you like, Mr.
+Burchill,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re a very clever young fellow, and I dare
+say you&rsquo;re as well aware of what the law about accessories is as I am.
+&rsquo;Tisn&rsquo;t necessary for a party to a murder to be actually present at the
+execution of the crime, sir&mdash;no! And there&rsquo;s such a thing as being
+accessory after the crime&mdash;of course. Leave it at that, Mr. Burchill,
+leave it at that!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Cox-Raythwaite, who had been eyeing Burchill with ill-concealed disgust,
+spoke sharply.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And&mdash;the rest?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m going along in order,&rdquo; answered Burchill coolly. &ldquo;Well, I come to
+the time when Davidge there arrested Barthorpe and myself at Halfpenny
+and Farthing&rsquo;s, and when I escaped. There&rsquo;s no need to tell you what I
+did with myself,&rdquo; he went on, with an obvious sneer in the detective&rsquo;s
+direction. &ldquo;But I can tell you that I didn&rsquo;t particularly restrict my
+movements. And eventually&mdash;a few days ago&mdash;I come into touch with
+Dimambro, who had returned to England. As I said before, we had met
+during the time I was secretary to Jacob Herapath. Dimambro, when I met
+him&mdash;accidentally&mdash;was on his way to the police, to tell them what he
+knew. I stopped him&mdash;he told his story to me instead. I told him mine.
+And the result of our deliberations was that we got an interview&mdash;at
+least I did&mdash;with Mrs. Engledew here, with respect to the diamonds which
+she had entrusted to Jacob Herapath. And&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I should like to ask you a question, Mrs. Engledew,&rdquo; said
+Cox-Raythwaite, interrupting Burchill without ceremony. &ldquo;Why did you not
+inform the police about your diamonds as soon as you heard of the
+murder?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Engledew betrayed slight signs of confusion, and Davidge gave the
+questioner a look.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg&nbsp;310]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think if I were you, I shouldn&rsquo;t go into that matter just now,
+Professor,&rdquo; he said apologetically. &ldquo;Ladies, you know, have their
+reasons for these little&mdash;what shall we call &rsquo;em?&mdash;peculiarities. No, I
+wouldn&rsquo;t press that point, sir. We&rsquo;re having a nice, straight
+story&mdash;quite like a printed one!&mdash;from Mr. Burchill there, and I think
+we&rsquo;d better let him come to what we may term the last chapter in his own
+way&mdash;what?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m at the last chapter,&rdquo; said Burchill. &ldquo;And it&rsquo;s a short one. I saw
+Mrs. Engledew and made certain arrangements with her. And just after
+they were made&mdash;yesterday in fact&mdash;Dimambro and I got a new piece of
+evidence. When Dimambro was collecting those pearls for Jacob Herapath
+he bought some from a well-known dealer in Amsterdam, a specialist in
+pearls. Yesterday, Dimambro got a letter from this man telling him that
+a small parcel of those very pearls had been sent to him from London,
+for sale. He gave Dimambro the name and address of the sender, who, of
+course, was the Mr. X. of whom I have spoken. So then Dimambro and I
+resolved to act, through Mrs. Engledew&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;For a slight consideration, I think,&rdquo; suggested Davidge dryly. &ldquo;A
+matter of a little cheque, I believe, Mr. Burchill.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg&nbsp;311]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;ve quite as much right to be paid for our detective services,
+amateur though they are, as you have for yours, Davidge,&rdquo; retorted
+Burchill. &ldquo;However, I&rsquo;ve come to an end, and it only remains for me to
+tell you who Mr. X. really is. He hasn&rsquo;t the slightest notion that he&rsquo;s
+suspected, and if you and your men, Davidge, go round to his house,
+which isn&rsquo;t half a mile away, you&rsquo;ll probably find him eating his Sunday
+evening supper in peace and quietness. The man is&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Davidge suddenly rose from his chair, nudging Triffitt as he moved. He
+laughed&mdash;and the laugh made Burchill start to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You needn&rsquo;t trouble yourself, Mr. Burchill!&rdquo; said Davidge. &ldquo;Much
+obliged to you for your talk, there&rsquo;s nothing like letting some folks
+wag their tongues till they&rsquo;re tired. I know who murdered Jacob Herapath
+as well as you do, and who your Mr. X. is. Jacob Herapath, gentlemen,&rdquo;
+he added, turning to his astonished listeners, &ldquo;was shot dead and robbed
+by his office manager, James Frankton, and if James Frankton&rsquo;s eating
+his Sunday supper in peace and quietness, it&rsquo;s in one of our cells, for
+I arrested him at seven o&rsquo;clock this very evening&mdash;and with no help from
+you, Mr. Burchill! I&rsquo;m not quite such a fool as I may look, my lad, and
+if I made one mistake when I let you slip I didn&rsquo;t make another when I
+got on the track of the real man. And now, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; he concluded, with an
+old-fashioned bow to Mrs. Engledew, &ldquo;there&rsquo;s no more to be said&mdash;by me,
+at all events, and I&rsquo;ve the honour to wish you a good night. Mr.
+Triffitt&mdash;we&rsquo;ll depart.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Outside, Davidge took the reporter&rsquo;s arm in a firm grip, and chuckled as
+he led him towards the elevator.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s surprise one!&rdquo; he whispered. &ldquo;Wait till we get downstairs and
+into the street, and you&rsquo;ll have another, and it&rsquo;ll be of a bit livelier
+nature!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="toclink"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of Contents</a></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg&nbsp;312]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXV" id="CHAPTER_XXXV"></a>CHAPTER XXXV</h2>
+
+<p class="subtitle">the second warrant</p>
+
+<p>Davidge preserved a strict silence as he and Triffitt went down in the
+elevator, but when they had reached the ground floor he took the
+reporter&rsquo;s arm again, and as they crossed the entrance hall gave it a
+significant squeeze.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll see two or three rather heavy swells, some of &rsquo;em in evening
+dress, hanging about the door,&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;Look like residents,
+coming in or going out, puffing their cigars and their cigarettes, eh?
+They&rsquo;re my men&mdash;all of &rsquo;em! Take no notice&mdash;there&rsquo;ll be your friend
+Carver outside&mdash;I gave him a hint. Join him, and hang about&mdash;you&rsquo;ll have
+something to do a bit of newspaper copy about presently.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt, greatly mystified, joined Carver at the edge of the pavement
+outside the wide entrance door. Glancing around him he saw several men
+lounging about&mdash;two, of eminently military appearance, with evening
+dress under their overcoats, stood chatting on the lower steps; two or
+three others, all very prosperous looking, were talking close by. There
+was nothing in their outward show to arouse suspicion&mdash;at any other
+time, and under any other circumstances Triffitt would certainly have
+taken them for residents of the Herapath Flats. Carver, however, winked
+at him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg&nbsp;313]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Detectives,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;They&rsquo;ve gathered here while you were upstairs.
+What&rsquo;s up now, Triffitt? Heard anything?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Piles!&rdquo; answered Triffitt. &ldquo;Heaps! But I don&rsquo;t know what this is all
+about. Some new departure. Hullo!&mdash;here&rsquo;s the secretary and the
+Professor.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Cox-Raythwaite and Selwood just then appeared at the entrance door and
+began to descend the steps. Davidge, who had stopped on the steps to
+speak to a man, hailed and drew them aside.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What has gone on up there?&rdquo; asked Carver. &ldquo;Anything really&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Triffitt suddenly grasped his companion&rsquo;s shoulder, twisting him round
+towards the door. His lips emitted a warning to silence; his eyes
+signalled Carver to look.</p>
+
+<p>Burchill came out of the doors, closely followed by Dimambro. Jauntily
+swinging his walking-cane he began to descend, affecting utter
+unconsciousness of the presence of Cox-Raythwaite, Selwood, and Davidge.
+He passed close by the men in evening dress, brushing the sleeve of one.
+And the man thus brushed turned quickly, and his companion turned
+too&mdash;and then something happened that made the two reporters exclaim
+joyfully and run up the steps.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gad!&mdash;that was quick&mdash;quick!&rdquo; exclaimed Triffitt, with the delight of a
+schoolboy. &ldquo;Never saw the bracelets put on more neatly. Bully for you,
+Davidge, old man!&mdash;got him this time, anyhow!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Burchill, taken aback by the sudden onslaught of Davidge&rsquo;s satellites,
+drew himself up indignantly and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg&nbsp;314]</a></span>looked down at his bands, around the
+wrists of which his captors had snapped a pair of handcuffs. He lifted a
+face white with rage and passion and glanced at Cox-Raythwaite and
+Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Liars!&rdquo; he hissed between his teeth. &ldquo;You gave me safe conduct! It was
+understood that I was to come and go without interference, you hounds!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not with me, nor I should think with anybody, my lad,&rdquo; exclaimed
+Davidge, bustling forward. &ldquo;Not likely! You forget that you&rsquo;re under
+arrest for the old charge yet, and though you&rsquo;ll get off for that, you
+won&rsquo;t go scot-free, my friend! I&rsquo;ve got a second warrant for you, and
+the charge&rsquo;ll be read to you when you get to the station. You&rsquo;ll clear
+yourself of the charge of murder, but not of t&rsquo;other charge, I&rsquo;m
+thinking!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Second warrant! Another charge!&rdquo; growled Burchill. &ldquo;What charge?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I should think you know as well as I do,&rdquo; replied Davidge quietly.
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;re a bigger fool than I take you for if you don&rsquo;t. Conspiracy, of
+course! It&rsquo;s a good thing to have two strings to one&rsquo;s bow, Mr. Frank
+Burchill, in dealing with birds like you. This is my second string. Take
+him off,&rdquo; he added, motioning to his men, &ldquo;and get him searched, and put
+everything carefully aside for me&mdash;especially a cheque for ten thousand
+pounds which you&rsquo;ll find in one of his pockets.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When the detectives had hurried Burchill into a taxi-cab which suddenly
+sprang into useful proximity to the excited group, Davidge spat on the
+ground and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg&nbsp;315]</a></span>made a face. He motioned Cox-Raythwaite, Selwood, and the
+two reporters to go down the street; he himself turned to Dimambro. What
+he said to that highly-excited gentleman they did not hear, but the
+Italian presently walked off looking very crestfallen, while Davidge,
+joining them, looked highly pleased with himself.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course, you&rsquo;ll stop payment of that cheque at the bank first thing
+tomorrow, gentlemen,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Though that&rsquo;ll only be for form&rsquo;s sake,
+because I shall take charge of it when I go round to the police-station
+presently&mdash;they&rsquo;ll have got Burchill searched when I get there. Of
+course, I wasn&rsquo;t going to say anything up there, but Mrs. Engledew has
+been in with us at this, and she took Burchill and Dimambro in as
+beautifully as ever I saw it done in my life! Clever woman, that! We
+knew about her diamonds, gentlemen, within a few hours of the discovery
+of the murder, and of course, I thought Barthorpe had got them; I did,
+mistaken though I was! I didn&rsquo;t want anybody to know about those
+diamonds, though, and I kept it all dark until these fellows came on the
+scene. And, anyway, we didn&rsquo;t get the real culprit through the diamonds,
+either!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s what we want to know,&rdquo; said Selwood. &ldquo;Have you got the real
+culprit? Are you certain? And how on earth did you get him&mdash;a man that
+none of us ever suspected!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg&nbsp;316]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just so!&rdquo; answered Davidge with a grim laugh. &ldquo;As nice and
+quiet-mannered a man as ever I entered as a candidate for the gallows!
+It&rsquo;s very often the case, gentlemen. Oh, yes&mdash;it&rsquo;s true enough! He&rsquo;s
+confessed&mdash;crumpled up like a bit of tissue paper when we took
+him&mdash;confessed everything to me just before I came along here. Of course
+we didn&rsquo;t get him through anything we&rsquo;ve heard tonight; quite different
+line altogether, and a simple one.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We should like to know about it,&rdquo; said Cox-Raythwaite. &ldquo;Can&rsquo;t you give
+us a mere outline?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I was going to,&rdquo; answered Davidge. &ldquo;No secret about it. I may as well
+tell you that after hearing what Barthorpe Herapath insisted on saying
+before the magistrate, I began to feel that he was very likely telling
+the truth, and that somebody&rsquo;d murdered and robbed his uncle just before
+he got to the offices. But, of course, there was nothing to connect the
+murder and robbery with any person that I knew of. Well, now then, this
+is how we got on the track. Only two or three days ago a little, quiet
+man, who turned out to be a bit of a property-owner down at Fulham, came
+to me and said that ever since Mr. Jacob Herapath&rsquo;s murder he&rsquo;d been
+what he called studying over it, and he thought he ought to tell me
+something. He said he was a very slow thinker, and it had taken him a
+long time to think all this out. Then he told me his tale. He said that
+for some time Jacob Herapath had been waiting to buy a certain bit of
+land which he had to sell. On November 12th last he called to see Jacob
+at these offices, and they agreed on the matter, price to be &pound;5,000.
+Jacob told him to come in at ten o&rsquo;clock next morning, and in accordance
+with his usual way of doing business, he&rsquo;d hand him <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg&nbsp;317]</a></span>the money in
+cash&mdash;notes, of course. Well, the chap called next morning, only to hear
+of what had happened, and so his business had fallen through. And it
+wasn&rsquo;t until some time later&mdash;he&rsquo;s a bit of a slow-witted fellow,
+dullish of brain, you understand,&rdquo; continued Davidge indulgently, &ldquo;that
+he remembered a certain conversation, or rather a remark which Jacob
+Herapath made during that deal. This man, James Frankton, the manager,
+was present when the deal was being effected, and when they&rsquo;d concluded
+terms, Jacob said, turning to Frankton. &lsquo;I&rsquo;ll get the money in notes
+from the bank this afternoon, Frankton, and if I don&rsquo;t give it to you in
+the meantime, you&rsquo;ll find the notes in the top left-hand drawer of my
+desk tomorrow morning.&rsquo; Well, that was what the man told me; said he&rsquo;d
+been bothering his brains in wondering if Jacob did draw that money, and
+so on&mdash;Frankton, of course, had told him that he knew nothing about it,
+and that as Jacob was dead, no more could be done in the matter. Now on
+that, I at once began some inquiries. I found out a thing or two&mdash;never
+mind what&mdash;one was to trace a hundred pound note which Frankton had
+cashed recently. I found, only yesterday morning, that that note was one
+of fifty similar notes paid to Jacob Herapath by his bankers in exchange
+for his own cheque on the afternoon of November 12th. And, on that, I
+had Frankton watched all yesterday, last night, and today, and as I
+said, I arrested him tonight&mdash;and, in all my experience I never saw a
+man more surprised, and never knew one who so lost his nerve.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg&nbsp;318]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And his confession?&rdquo; asked Selwood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh! ordinary,&rdquo; answered Davidge. &ldquo;Jacob had made an appointment with
+him for half-past eleven or so. Got there a bit late, found his master
+sitting at his desk with a wad of bank notes on the blotting-pad, a
+paper of pearls on one side of him, a lot of diamond ornaments at the
+other&mdash;big temptation to a chap, who, as it turns out, was hard up, and
+had got into the hands of money-lenders. And, oh, just the ordinary
+thing in such cases, happened to have on him a revolver that he&rsquo;d bought
+abroad, yielded to temptation, shot his man, took money and valuables,
+went home, and turned up at the office next day to lift his hands in
+horror at the dreadful news. You see what truth is, gentlemen, when you
+get at it&mdash;just a common, vulgar murder, for the sake of robbery. And
+he&rsquo;ll swing!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Just a common, vulgar murder, and he&rsquo;ll swing!&rsquo;&rdquo; softly repeated
+Cox-Raythwaite, as he and Selwood walked up the steps of the house in
+Portman Square half an hour later. &ldquo;Well, that&rsquo;s solved, anyway. As for
+the other two&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I suppose there&rsquo;s no doubt of their guilt with respect to their
+conspiring to upset the will?&rdquo; said Selwood. &ldquo;And that&rsquo;s a serious
+offence, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In this eminently commercial country, very,&rdquo; answered Cox-Raythwaite,
+sententiously. &ldquo;Barthorpe and Burchill will inevitably retire to the
+shelter of a convict establishment for awhile. Um! Well, my boy, good
+night!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg&nbsp;319]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not coming in?&rdquo; asked Selwood, as he put a key in the latch.</p>
+
+<p>The Professor gave his companion&rsquo;s shoulder a pressure of his big hand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think,&rdquo; he said, turning down the steps with a shy laugh, &ldquo;I think
+Peggie will prefer to receive you&mdash;alone.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="smcap pad4top center b">the end</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="s6"><i>THE MYSTERY STORIES OF</i></p>
+
+<p class="s5 g"><i>J. S. FLETCHER</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="fl">&ldquo;<i>We always feel as though we were really spreading happiness when we
+can announce a genuinely satisfactory mystery story, such as J. S.
+Fletcher&rsquo;s new one.</i>&rdquo;</span>
+
+<span class="fr">&mdash;N. P. D. in the New York Globe.</span></p>
+
+<p class="ad">THE MIDDLE TEMPLE MURDER [1918]</p>
+
+<p class="adt">&ldquo;Unquestionably, <i>the</i> detective story of the season and, therefore, one
+which no lover of detective fiction should miss.&rdquo;&mdash;<i>The Broadside.</i></p>
+
+<p class="ad">THE TALLEYRAND MAXIM [1920]</p>
+
+<p class="adt">&ldquo;A crackerjack mystery tale; the story of Linford Pratt, who earnestly
+desired to get on in life, by hook or by crook&mdash;with no objection
+whatever to crookedness, so long at it could be performed in safety and
+secrecy.&rdquo;&mdash;<i>Knickerbocker Press.</i></p>
+
+<p class="ad">THE PARADISE MYSTERY [1920]</p>
+
+<p class="adt">&ldquo;As a weaver of detective tales Mr. Fletcher is entitled to a seat among
+the elect. His numerous followers will find his latest book fully as
+absorbing as anything from his pen that has previously appeared.&rdquo;&mdash;<i>New
+York Times.</i></p>
+
+<p class="ad">DEAD MEN&rsquo;S MONEY [1920]</p>
+
+<p class="adt">&ldquo;The story is one that holds the reader with more than the mere interest
+of sensational events; Mr. Fletcher writes in a notable style.&rdquo;&mdash;<i>Newark
+Evening News.</i></p>
+
+<p class="ad">THE ORANGE-YELLOW DIAMOND [1921]</p>
+
+<p class="adt">&ldquo;... A rattling good yarn. ... An uncommonly well written tale.&rdquo;&mdash;<i>New
+York Times.</i></p>
+
+<p class="ad">THE CHESTERMARKE INSTINCT [1921]</p>
+
+<p class="adt">&ldquo;Mr. Fletcher is a master of plot. ... To tell a story as well as this
+is a literary achievement.&rdquo;&mdash;<i>Boston Transcript.</i></p>
+
+<p class="ad">THE BOROUGH TREASURER [1921]</p>
+
+<p class="adt">&ldquo;As mystifying a tale as even Mr. Fletcher himself has written.&rdquo;&mdash;<i>New
+York Times.</i></p>
+
+<p class="ad">THE HERAPATH PROPERTY [1921]</p>
+
+<p class="adt">Numerous complications lead from the murder of Jacob Herapath and the
+search for his will.</p>
+
+<p class="ad">SCARHAVEN KEEP [1922]</p>
+
+<p class="adt">The mystery of the disappearance of Bassett Oliver, famous actor.</p>
+
+<p class="ad">RAVENSDENE COURT [1922]</p>
+
+<p class="adt">Two men are struck down by an unseen hand, at the same time in widely
+separated places&mdash;who killed them?</p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>$2.00 net each at all booksellers or from the Publisher</i></p>
+
+<p class="s6">ALFRED A. KNOPF, New York.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="tn" id="tn">
+
+<p class="s4 center">Transcriber&rsquo;s Notes</p>
+
+<p>The advertisement &ldquo;The Mystery Stories of J. S. Fletcher&rdquo; has been moved
+from the front of the book to the back.</p>
+
+<p>Spacing around ellipses and em-dashes is as in the original.</p>
+
+<p>The following corrections have been applied:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Advertisement: &ldquo;As mystifying{original had mystifyng} a tale as
+even Mr. Fletcher himself has written.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Page_vi">Page vi</a>: XXIV{original had XIV} <span class="smcap">Cold Steel</span></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Page_18">Page 18</a>: but when she had left the room to make ready for the
+drive Mr.{original omitted period} Tertius turned to Selwood.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Page_66">Page 66</a>: the detective, armed with a magnifying glass, was
+examining the edges of the door, the smooth backs of chairs,
+even the surface of the desk, presumably for
+finger-marks{original had fingermarks}.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft w200px"><a href="images/p72.png">
+<img src="images/p72tn.png" alt="Orginal text from page 72" title="Orginal text from page 72" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<p><a href="#Page_72">Page 72</a>: &ldquo;Mr. Selwood!&rdquo; she exclaimed imploringly. &ldquo;You&mdash;I
+can&rsquo;t.{The original text has no em-dash, and it&rsquo;s not clear
+what the author&rsquo;s intention was. Click on the thumbnail image
+on the left to show the original text.} You open it, and&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Page_85">Page 85</a>: &ldquo;Pardon,&rdquo; interrupted Burchill, &ldquo;a{original had A}
+holograph?</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Page_128">Page 128</a>: And it was as well that he was not looking{original
+had look-} at Triffitt</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Page_160">Page 160</a>: perhaps you&rsquo;ll{original had you&rsquo;l} drop me a line and
+make an appointment at your office some day&mdash;then I&rsquo;ll call,
+d&rsquo;you see?&rdquo;{original omitted closing quotation mark}</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Page_166">Page 166</a>: &ldquo;So long as justice is done,&rdquo; remarked
+Peggie.{original omitted period}</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Page_178">Page 178</a>: There were peculiarities about the fellow, said
+Triffitt{original had Triffit}, which you couldn&rsquo;t forget</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Page_186">Page 186</a>: &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; said Triffitt, &ldquo;keep{original had Keep}
+a still tongue as regards me</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Page_186">Page 186</a>: {original had a quotation mark here}Outside Triffitt
+gave his companion&rsquo;s arm a confidential squeeze.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Page_187">Page 187</a>: Markledew{original had Markledek} listened to
+Triffitt&rsquo;s story next day in his usual rapt silence.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Page_196">Page 196</a>: &ldquo;Then we&rsquo;ll get to work,&rdquo; said Davidge. &ldquo;{original
+omitted quotation mark}Mr. Triffitt, I can&rsquo;t ask you to come
+with us</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Page_201">Page 201</a>: &ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t{original had haven&rsquo;} the least objection
+to Cox-Raythwaite&rsquo;s presence, nor yours,&rdquo; said Barthorpe.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Page_211">Page 211</a>: Peggie Wynne, who during Barthorpe&rsquo;s last speech had
+manifested signs of a desire to speak, and had begun to produce
+a sealed packet from her muff.{original had a superfluous
+quotation mark here}</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Page_214">Page 214</a>: as they{original had ast hey} went on, quietly rose
+from his chair.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Page_218">Page 218</a>: Is it not probable that if he wanted to make a will
+he{original had be} would have employed me</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Page_273">Page 273</a>: Peggie{original had Peggy} Wynne had never been so
+glad of anything in her life as for Selwood&rsquo;s immediate
+presence at that moment</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Page_287">Page 287</a>: You follow me? As soon as I&rsquo;ve taken action, or run
+him to earth, I&rsquo;ll ring up Scotland Yard, and{original had an}
+then&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Page_293">Page 293</a>: &ldquo;Nine o&rsquo;clock,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;{original omitted this
+quotation mark}Come on&mdash;we&rsquo;ll go in. Now, then, Mr. Triffitt,&rdquo;
+he continued,</p></div>
+
+<p>The following unusual spellings are as printed:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><a href="#Page_143">Page 143</a>: He flung Markledew&rsquo;s half-sheet of notepaper before
+the news editor, and the news editor, seeing the great man&rsquo;s
+sprawling caligraphy{sic}, read, wonderingly:&mdash;</p></div>
+
+<p>The following words appear with and without a hyphen. They have been
+left as in the original.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>bank-notes/banknotes</p>
+
+<p>business-like/businesslike</p>
+
+<p>hearth-rug/hearthrug</p>
+
+<p>note-book/notebook</p>
+
+<p>note-paper/notepaper</p>
+
+<p>parlour-maid/parlourmaid</p></div>
+
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Herapath Property, by J. S. Fletcher
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Herapath Property, by J. S. Fletcher
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Herapath Property
+
+Author: J. S. Fletcher
+
+Release Date: May 8, 2008 [EBook #25388]
+Last updated: January 31, 2009
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HERAPATH PROPERTY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Andrew Wainwright, Suzanne Shell and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ THE
+
+ H E R A P A T H
+
+ P R O P E R T Y
+
+
+ BY
+ J. S. FLETCHER
+
+
+ NEW YORK
+ ALFRED . A . KNOPF
+ MCMXXII
+
+
+
+
+ COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY
+ ALFRED A. KNOPF, INC.
+
+ _Published October, 1921_
+
+ _Second Printing, May, 1922_
+
+ PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAPTER
+
+ I JACOB HERAPATH IS MISSING, 9
+ II IS IT MURDER? 18
+ III BARTHORPE TAKES CHARGE, 27
+ IV THE PRESSMAN, 36
+ V THE GLASS AND THE SANDWICH, 45
+ VI THE TAXI-CAB DRIVER, 54
+ VII IS THERE A WILL? 64
+ VIII THE SECOND WITNESS, 74
+ IX GREEK AGAINST GREEK, 83
+ X MR. BENJAMIN HALFPENNY, 91
+ XI THE SHADOW, 100
+ XII FOR TEN PER CENT, 109
+ XIII ADJOURNED, 118
+ XIV THE SCOTTISH VERDICT, 127
+ XV YOUNG BRAINS, 136
+ XVI NAMELESS FEAR, 145
+ XVII THE LAW, 154
+ XVIII THE ROSEWOOD BOX, 163
+ XIX WEAVING THE NET, 172
+ XX THE DIAMOND RING, 181
+ XXI THE DESERTED FLAT, 190
+ XXII YEA AND NAY, 199
+ XXIII THE ACCUSATION, 208
+ XXIV COLD STEEL, 217
+ XXV PROFESSIONAL ANALYSIS, 226
+ XXVI THE REMAND PRISON, 235
+ XXVII THE LAST CHEQUE, 244
+ XXVIII THE HOTEL RAVENNA, 253
+ XXIX THE NOTE IN THE PRAYER-BOOK, 263
+ XXX THE WHITE-HAIRED LADY, 273
+ XXXI THE INTERRUPTED DINNER-PARTY, 283
+ XXXII THE YORKSHIRE PROVERB, 290
+ XXXIII BURCHILL FILLS THE STAGE, 294
+ XXXIV DAVIDGE'S TRUMP CARD, 304
+ XXXV THE SECOND WARRANT, 312
+
+
+
+
+ THE
+
+ HERAPATH
+
+ PROPERTY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+JACOB HERAPATH IS MISSING
+
+
+This was the third week of Selwood's secretaryship to Jacob Herapath.
+Herapath was a well-known man in London. He was a Member of Parliament,
+the owner of a sort of model estate of up-to-date flats, and something
+of a crank about such matters as ventilation, sanitation, and lighting.
+He himself, a bachelor, lived in one of the best houses in Portman
+Square; when he engaged Selwood as his secretary he made him take a
+convenient set of rooms in Upper Seymour Street, close by. He also
+caused a telephone communication to be set up between his own house and
+Selwood's bedroom, so that he could summon his secretary at any hour of
+the night. Herapath occasionally had notions about things in the small
+hours, and he was one of those active, restless persons who, if they get
+a new idea, like to figure on it at once. All the same, during those
+three weeks he had not once troubled his secretary in this fashion. No
+call came to Selwood over that telephone until half-past seven one
+November morning, just as he was thinking of getting out of bed. And the
+voice which then greeted him was not Herapath's. It was a rather anxious,
+troubled voice, and it belonged to one Kitteridge, a middle-aged man, who
+was Herapath's butler.
+
+In the act of summoning Selwood, Kitteridge was evidently interrupted by
+some person at his elbow; all that Selwood made out was that Kitteridge
+wanted him to go round at once. He dressed hurriedly, and ran off to
+Herapath's house; there in the hall, near the door of a room which
+Herapath used as a study and business room, he found Kitteridge talking
+to Mountain, Herapath's coachman, who, judging by the state of his
+attire, had also been called hurriedly from his bed.
+
+"What is it, Kitteridge?" demanded Selwood. "Mr. Herapath ill?"
+
+The butler shook his head and jerked his thumb towards the open door of
+the study.
+
+"The fact is, we don't know where Mr. Herapath is, sir," he answered.
+"He hasn't slept in his bed, and he isn't in the house."
+
+"Possibly he didn't come home last night," suggested Selwood. "He may
+have slept at his club, or at an hotel."
+
+The butler and the coachman looked at each other--then the coachman, a
+little, sharp-eyed man who was meditatively chewing a bit of straw,
+opened his tightly-compressed lips.
+
+"He did come home, sir," he said. "I drove him home--as usual. I saw him
+let himself into the house. One o'clock sharp, that was. Oh, yes, he
+came home!"
+
+"He came home," repeated Kitteridge. "Look here, sir." He led the way
+into the study and pointed to a small table set by the side of
+Herapath's big business desk. "You see that tray, Mr. Selwood? That's
+always left out, there, on that table, for Mr. Herapath every night. A
+small decanter of whiskey, a syphon, a few sandwiches, a dry biscuit or
+two. Well, there you are, sir--he's had a drink out of that glass, he's
+had a mouthful or so of sandwiches. Oh, yes, he came home, but he's not
+at home now! Charlesworth--the valet, you know, sir--always goes into
+Mr. Herapath's room at a quarter past seven every morning; when he went
+in just now he found that Mr. Herapath wasn't there, and the bed hadn't
+been slept in. So--that's where things stand."
+
+Selwood looked round the room. The curtains had not yet been drawn
+aside, and the electric light cast a cold glare on the various
+well-known objects and fittings. He glanced at the evidences of the
+supper tray; then at the blotting-pad on Herapath's desk; there he might
+have left a note for his butler or his secretary. But there was no note
+to be seen.
+
+"Still, I don't see that there's anything to be alarmed about,
+Kitteridge," he said. "Mr. Herapath may have wanted to go somewhere by a
+very early morning train----"
+
+"No, sir, excuse me, that won't do," broke in the butler. "I thought of
+that myself. But if he'd wanted to catch a night train, he'd have taken
+a travelling coat, and a rug, and a bag of some sort--he's taken nothing
+at all in that way. Besides, I've been in this house seven years, and I
+know his habits. If he'd wanted to go away by one of the very early
+morning trains he'd have kept me and Charlesworth up, making ready for
+him. No, sir! He came home, and went out again--must have done.
+And--it's uncommonly queer. Seven years I've been here, as I say, and he
+never did such a thing before."
+
+Selwood turned to the coachman.
+
+"You brought Mr. Herapath home at one o'clock?" he said. "Alone?"
+
+"He was alone, sir," replied the coachman, who had been staring around him
+as if to seek some solution of the mystery. "I'll tell you all that
+happened--I was just beginning to tell Mr. Kitteridge here when you come
+in. I fetched Mr. Herapath from the House of Commons last night at a
+quarter past eleven--took him up in Palace Yard at the usual spot, just as
+the clock was striking. 'Mountain,' he says, 'I want you to drive round to
+the estate office--I want to call there.' So I drove there--that's in
+Kensington, as you know, sir. When he got out he says, 'Mountain,' he
+says, 'I shall be three-quarters of an hour or so here--wrap the mare up
+and walk her about,' he says. I did as he said, but he was more than
+three-quarters--it was like an hour. Then at last he came back to the
+brougham, just said one word, 'Home!' and I drove him here, and the clocks
+were striking one when he got out. He said 'Good night,' and I saw him
+walk up the steps and put his key in the latch as I drove off to our
+stables. And that's all I know about it."
+
+Selwood turned to the butler.
+
+"I suppose no one was up at that time?" he inquired.
+
+"Nobody, sir," answered Kitteridge. "There never is. Mr. Herapath, as
+you've no doubt observed, is a bit strict in the matter of rules, and
+it's one of his rules that everybody in the house must be in bed by
+eleven-thirty. No one was ever to sit up for him on any occasion. That's
+why this supper-tray was always left ready. His usual time for coming in
+when he'd been at the House was twelve o'clock."
+
+"Everybody in the house might be in bed," observed Selwood, "but not
+everybody might be asleep. Have you made any inquiry as to whether
+anybody heard Mr. Herapath moving about in the night, or leaving the
+house? Somebody may have heard the hall door opened and closed, you
+know."
+
+"I'll make inquiry as to that, sir," responded Kitteridge, "but I've
+heard nothing of the sort so far, and all the servants are aware by now
+that Mr. Herapath isn't in the house. If anybody had heard anything----"
+
+Before the butler could say more the study door opened and a girl came
+into the room. At sight of her Selwood spoke hurriedly to Kitteridge.
+
+"Have you told Miss Wynne?" he whispered. "Does she know?"
+
+"She may have heard from her maid, sir," replied Kitteridge in low
+tones. "Of course they're all talking of it. I was going to ask to see
+Miss Wynne as soon as she was dressed."
+
+By that time the girl had advanced towards the three men, and Selwood
+stepped forward to meet her. He knew her as Herapath's niece, the
+daughter of a dead sister of whom Herapath had been very fond; he knew,
+too, that Herapath had brought her up from infancy and treated her as a
+daughter. She was at this time a young woman of twenty-one or two, a
+pretty, eminently likeable young woman, with signs of character and
+resource in eyes and lips, and Selwood had seen enough of her to feel
+sure that in any disturbing event she would keep her head. She spoke
+calmly enough as the secretary met her.
+
+"What's all this, Mr. Selwood?" she asked. "I understand my uncle is not
+in the house. But there's nothing alarming in that, Kitteridge, is
+there? Mr. Herapath may have gone away during the night, you know."
+
+"Kitteridge thinks that highly improbable," replied Selwood. "He says
+that Mr. Herapath had made no preparation for a sudden journey, has
+taken no travelling coat or rug, or luggage of any sort."
+
+"Did he come in from the House?" she asked. "Perhaps not?"
+
+Kitteridge pointed to the supper-tray and then indicated the coachman.
+
+"He came in as usual, miss," he replied. "Or rather an hour later than
+usual. Mountain brought him home at one o'clock, and he saw him let
+himself in with his latch-key."
+
+Peggie Wynne turned to the coachman.
+
+"You're sure that he entered the house?" she asked.
+
+"As sure as I could be, miss," replied Mountain. "He was putting his key
+in the door when I drove off."
+
+"He must have come in," said Kitteridge, pointing to the tray. "He had
+something after he got in."
+
+"Well, go and tell the servants not to talk, Kitteridge," said Peggie.
+"My uncle, no doubt, had reasons for going out again. Have you said
+anything to Mr. Tertius?"
+
+"Mr. Tertius isn't down yet, miss," answered the butler.
+
+He left the room, followed by the coachman, and Peggie turned to
+Selwood. "What do you think?" she asked, with a slight show of anxiety.
+"You don't know of any reason for this, do you?"
+
+"None," replied Selwood. "And as to what I think, I don't know
+sufficient about Mr. Herapath's habits to be able to judge."
+
+"He never did anything like this before," she remarked. "I know that he
+sometimes gets up in the middle of the night and comes down here, but I
+never knew him to go out. If he'd been setting off on a sudden journey
+he'd surely have let me know. Perhaps----"
+
+She paused suddenly, seeing Selwood lift his eyes from the papers
+strewn about the desk to the door. She, too, turned in the same
+direction.
+
+A man had come quietly into the room--a slightly-built, little man,
+grey-bearded, delicate-looking, whose eyes were obscured by a pair of
+dark-tinted spectacles. He moved gently and with an air of habitual
+shyness, and Selwood, who was naturally observant, saw that his lips and
+his hands were trembling slightly as he came towards them.
+
+"Mr. Tertius," said Peggie, "do you know anything about Uncle Jacob? He
+came in during the night--one o'clock--and now he's disappeared. Did he
+say anything to you about going away early this morning?"
+
+Mr. Tertius shook his head.
+
+"No--no--nothing!" he answered. "Disappeared! Is it certain he came in?"
+
+"Mountain saw him come in," she said. "Besides, he had a drink out of
+that glass, and he ate something from the tray--see!"
+
+Mr. Tertius bent his spectacled eyes over the supper tray and remained
+looking at what he saw there for a while. Then he looked up, and at
+Selwood.
+
+"Strange!" he remarked. "And yet, you know, he is a man who does things
+without saying a word to any one. Have you, now, thought of telephoning
+to the estate office? He may have gone there."
+
+Peggie, who had dropped into the chair at Herapath's desk, immediately
+jumped up.
+
+"Of course we must do that at once!" she exclaimed. "Come to the
+telephone, Mr. Selwood--we may hear something."
+
+She and Selwood left the room together. When they had gone, Mr. Tertius
+once more bent over the supper tray. He picked up the empty glass,
+handling it delicately; he held it between himself and the electric
+light over the desk; he narrowly inspected it, inside and out. Then he
+turned his attention to the plate of sandwiches. One sandwich had been
+taken from the plate and bitten into--once. Mr. Tertius took up that
+sandwich with the tips of his delicately-shaped fingers. He held that,
+too, nearer the light. And having looked at it he hastily selected an
+envelope from the stationery cabinet on the desk, carefully placed the
+sandwich within it, and set off to his own rooms in the upper part of
+the house. As he passed through the hall he heard Selwood at the
+telephone, which was installed in a small apartment at the foot of the
+stairs--he was evidently already in communication with some one at the
+Herapath Estate Office.
+
+Mr. Tertius went straight to his room, stayed there a couple of minutes,
+and went downstairs again. Selwood and Peggie Wynne were just coming
+away from the telephone; they looked up at him with faces grave with
+concern.
+
+"We're wanted at the estate office," said Selwood. "The caretaker was
+just going to ring us up when I got through to him. Something is
+wrong--wrong with Mr. Herapath."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+IS IT MURDER?
+
+
+It struck Selwood, afterwards, as a significant thing that it was
+neither he nor Mr. Tertius who took the first steps towards immediate
+action. Even as he spoke, Peggie was summoning the butler, and her
+orders were clear and precise.
+
+"Kitteridge," she said quietly, "order Robson to bring the car round at
+once--as quickly as possible. In the meantime, send some coffee into the
+breakfast-room--breakfast itself must wait until we return. Make haste,
+Kitteridge."
+
+Selwood turned on her with a doubtful look.
+
+"You--you aren't going down there?" he asked.
+
+"Of course I am!" she answered. "Do you think I should wait here--wondering
+what had happened? We will all go--come and have some coffee, both of you,
+while we wait for the car."
+
+The two followed her into the breakfast-room and silently drank the
+coffee which she presently poured out for them. She, too, was silent,
+but when she had left the room to make ready for the drive Mr. Tertius
+turned to Selwood.
+
+"You heard--what?" he asked.
+
+"Nothing definite," answered Selwood. "All I heard was that Mr.
+Herapath was there, and there was something seriously wrong, and would
+we go down at once."
+
+Mr. Tertius made no comment. He became thoughtful and abstracted, and
+remained so during the journey down to Kensington. Peggie, too, said
+nothing as they sped along; as for Selwood, he was wondering what had
+happened, and reflecting on this sudden stirring up of mystery. There was
+mystery within that car--in the person of Mr. Tertius. During his three
+weeks' knowledge of the Herapath household Selwood had constantly wondered
+who Mr. Tertius was, what his exact relationship was, what his position
+really was. He knew that he lived in Jacob Herapath's house, but in a
+sense he was not of the family. He seldom presented himself at Herapath's
+table, he was rarely seen about the house; Selwood remembered seeing him
+occasionally in Herapath's study or in Peggie Wynne's drawing-room. He had
+learnt sufficient to know that Mr. Tertius had rooms of his own in the
+house; two rooms in some upper region; one room on the ground-floor. Once
+Selwood had gained a peep into that ground-floor room, and had seen that
+it was filled with books, and that its table was crowded with papers, and
+he had formed the notion that Mr. Tertius was some book-worm or antiquary,
+to whom Jacob Herapath for some reason or other gave house-room. That
+he was no relation Selwood judged from the way in which he was always
+addressed by Herapath and by Peggie Wynne. To them as to all the servants
+he was Mr. Tertius--whether that was his surname or not, Selwood did not
+know.
+
+There was nothing mysterious or doubtful about the great pile of buildings
+at which the automobile presently stopped. They were practical and
+concrete facts. Most people in London knew the famous Herapath Flats--they
+had aroused public interest from the time that their founder began
+building them.
+
+Jacob Herapath, a speculator in real estate, had always cherished a
+notion of building a mass of high-class residential flats on the most
+modern lines. Nothing of the sort which he contemplated, he said,
+existed in London--when the opportunity came he would show the building
+world what could and should be done. The opportunity came when a parcel
+of land in Kensington fell into the market--Jacob Herapath made haste to
+purchase it, and he immediately began building on it. The result was a
+magnificent mass of buildings which possessed every advantage and
+convenience--to live in a Herapath flat was to live in luxury.
+Incidentally, no one could live in one who was not prepared to pay a
+rental of anything from five to fifteen hundred a year. The gross rental
+of the Herapath Flats was enormous--the net profits were enough to make
+even a wealthy man's mouth water. And Selwood, who already knew all
+this, wondered, as they drove away, where all this wealth would go if
+anything had really happened to its creator.
+
+The entrance to the Herapath estate office was in an archway which led
+to one of the inner squares of the great buildings. When the car stopped
+at it, Selwood saw that there were police within the open doorway. One
+of them, an inspector, came forward, looking dubiously at Peggie Wynne.
+Selwood hastened out of the car and made for him.
+
+"I'm Mr. Herapath's secretary--Mr. Selwood," he said, drawing the
+inspector out of earshot. "Is anything seriously wrong?--better tell me
+before Miss Wynne hears. He isn't--dead?"
+
+The inspector gave him a warning look.
+
+"That's it, sir," he answered in a low voice. "Found dead by the
+caretaker in his private office. And it's here--Mr. Selwood, it's either
+suicide or murder. That's flat!"
+
+Selwood got his two companions inside the building and into a waiting-room.
+Peggie turned on him at once.
+
+"I see you know," she said. "Tell me at once what it is. Don't be afraid,
+Mr. Selwood--I'm not likely to faint nor to go into hysterics. Neither is
+Mr. Tertius. Tell us--is it the worst?"
+
+"Yes," said Selwood. "It is."
+
+"He is dead?" she asked in a low voice. "You are sure? Dead?"
+
+Selwood bent his head by way of answer; when he looked up again the girl
+had bent hers, but she quickly lifted it, and except that she had grown
+pale, she showed no outward sign of shock or emotion. As for Mr.
+Tertius, he, too, was calm--and it was he who first broke the silence.
+
+"How was it?" he asked. "A seizure?"
+
+Selwood hesitated. Then, seeing that he had to deal with two people who
+were obviously in full control of themselves, he decided to tell the
+truth.
+
+"I'm afraid you must be prepared to hear some unpleasant news," he said,
+with a glance at the inspector, who just then quietly entered the room.
+"The police say it is either a case of suicide or of murder."
+
+Peggie looked sharply from Selwood to the police official, and a sudden
+flush of colour flamed into her cheeks.
+
+"Suicide?" she exclaimed. "Never! Murder? That may be. Tell me what you
+have found," she went on eagerly. "Don't keep things back!--don't you
+see I want to know?"
+
+The inspector closed the door and came nearer to where the three were
+standing.
+
+"Perhaps I'd better tell you what we do know," he said. "Our station was
+rung up by the caretaker here at five minutes past eight. He said Mr.
+Herapath had just been found lying on the floor of his private room, and
+they were sure something was wrong, and would we come round. I came
+myself with one of our plain-clothes men who happened to be in, and our
+surgeon followed us a few minutes later. We found Mr. Herapath lying
+across the hearthrug in his private room, quite dead. Close by----" He
+paused and looked dubiously at Peggie. "The details are not pleasant,"
+he said meaningly. "Shall I omit them?"
+
+"No!" answered Peggie with decision. "Please omit nothing. Tell us
+all."
+
+"There was a revolver lying close by Mr. Herapath's right hand,"
+continued the inspector. "One chamber had been discharged. Mr. Herapath
+had been shot through the right temple, evidently at close quarters. I
+should say--and our surgeon says--he had died instantly. And--I think
+that's all I need say just now."
+
+Peggie, who had listened to this with unmoved countenance, involuntarily
+stepped towards the door.
+
+"Let us go to him," she said. "I suppose he's still here?"
+
+But there Selwood, just as involuntarily, asserted an uncontrollable
+instinct. He put himself between the door and the girl.
+
+"No!" he said firmly, wondering at himself for his insistence. "Don't!
+There's no need for that--yet. You mustn't go. Mr. Tertius----"
+
+"Better not just yet, miss," broke in the inspector. "The doctor is
+still here. Afterwards, perhaps. If you would wait here while these
+gentlemen go with me."
+
+Peggie hesitated a moment; then she turned away and sat down.
+
+"Very well," she said.
+
+The inspector silently motioned the two men to follow him; with his hand
+on the door Selwood turned again to Peggie.
+
+"You will stay here?" he said. "You won't follow us?"
+
+"I shall stay here," she answered. "Stop a minute--there's one thing
+that should be thought of. My cousin Barthorpe----"
+
+"Mr. Barthorpe Herapath has been sent for, miss--he'll be here
+presently," replied the inspector. "The caretaker's telephoned to him.
+Now gentlemen."
+
+He led the way along a corridor to a room with which Selwood was
+familiar enough--an apartment of some size which Jacob Herapath used as
+a business office and kept sacred to himself and his secretary. When he
+was in it no one ever entered that room except at Herapath's bidding;
+now there were strangers in it who had come there unbidden, and Herapath
+lay in their midst, silent for ever. They had laid the lifeless body on
+a couch, and Selwood and Mr. Tertius bent over it for a moment before
+they turned to the other men in the room. The dead face was calm enough;
+there was no trace of sudden fear on it, no signs of surprise or anger
+or violent passion.
+
+"If you'll look here, gentlemen," said the police-inspector, motioning
+them towards the broad hearthrug. "This is how things were--nothing had
+been touched when we arrived. He was lying from there to here--he'd
+evidently slipped down and sideways out of that chair, and had fallen
+across the rug. The revolver was lying a few inches from his right hand.
+Here it is."
+
+He pulled open a drawer as he spoke and produced a revolver which he
+carefully handled as he showed it to Selwood and Mr. Tertius.
+
+"Have either of you gentlemen ever seen that before?" he asked. "I
+mean--do you recognize it as having belonged to--him? You don't? Never
+seen it before, either of you? Well, of course he might have kept a
+revolver in his private desk or in his safe, and nobody would have
+known. We shall have to make an exhaustive search and see if we can find
+any cartridges or anything. However, that's what we found--and, as I
+said before, one chamber had been discharged. The doctor here says the
+revolver had been fired at close quarters."
+
+Mr. Tertius, who had watched and listened with marked attention, turned
+to the police surgeon.
+
+"The wound may have been self-inflicted?" he asked.
+
+"From the position of the body, and of the revolver, there is strong
+presumption that it was," replied the doctor.
+
+"Yet--it may not have been?" suggested Mr. Tertius, mildly.
+
+The doctor shrugged his shoulders. It was easy to see what his own
+opinion was.
+
+"It may not have been--as you say," he answered. "But if he was shot by
+some other person--murdered, that is--the murderer must have been
+standing either close at his side, or immediately behind him. Of this I
+am certain--he was sitting in that chair, at his desk, when the shot was
+fired."
+
+"And--what would the immediate effect be?" asked Mr. Tertius.
+
+"He would probably start violently, make as if to rise, drop forward
+against the desk and gradually--but quickly--subside to the floor in the
+position in which he was found," replied the doctor. "As he fell he
+would relinquish his grip on the revolver--it is invariably a tight grip
+in these cases--and it would fall--just where it was found."
+
+"Still, there is nothing to disprove the theory that the revolver may
+have been placed--where it was found?" suggested Mr. Tertius.
+
+"Oh, certainly it may have been placed there!" said the doctor, with
+another shrug of the shoulders. "A cool and calculating murderer may
+have placed it there, of course."
+
+"Just so," agreed Mr. Tertius. He remained silently gazing at the
+hearthrug for a while; then he turned to the doctor again. "Now, how
+long do you think Mr. Herapath had been dead when you were called to the
+body?" he asked.
+
+"Quite eight hours," answered the doctor promptly.
+
+"Eight hours!" exclaimed Mr. Tertius. "And you first saw him at----"
+
+"A quarter past eight," said the doctor. "I should say he died just
+about midnight."
+
+"Midnight!" murmured Mr. Tertius. "Midnight? Then----"
+
+Before he could say more, a policeman, stationed in the corridor
+outside, opened the door of the room, and glancing at his inspector,
+announced the arrival of Mr. Barthorpe Herapath.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+BARTHORPE TAKES CHARGE
+
+
+The man who strode into the room as the policeman threw the door open for
+him immediately made two distinct impressions on the inspector and the
+doctor, neither of whom had ever seen him before. The first was that he
+instantly conveyed a sense of alert coolness and self-possession; the
+second that, allowing for differences of age, he was singularly like the
+dead man who lay in their midst. Both were tall, well-made men; both were
+clean-shaven; both were much alike as to feature and appearance. Apart
+from the fact that Jacob Herapath was a man of sixty and grey-haired, and
+his nephew one of thirty to thirty-five and dark-haired, they were very
+much alike--the same mould of nose, mouth, and chin, the same strength of
+form. The doctor noted this resemblance particularly, and he involuntarily
+glanced from the living to the dead.
+
+Barthorpe Herapath bent over his dead uncle for no more than a minute.
+His face was impassive, almost stern as he turned to the others. He
+nodded slightly to Mr. Tertius and to Selwood; then he gave his
+attention to the officials.
+
+"Yes?" he said inquiringly and yet with a certain tone of command. "Now
+tell me all you know of this."
+
+He stood listening silently, with concentrated attention, as the
+inspector put him in possession of the facts already known. He made no
+comment, asked no questions, until the inspector had finished; then he
+turned to Selwood, almost pointedly ignoring Mr. Tertius.
+
+"What is known of this in Portman Square, Mr. Selwood?" he inquired.
+"Tell me, briefly."
+
+Selwood, who had only met Barthorpe Herapath once or twice, and who had
+formed an instinctive and peculiar dislike to him, for which he could
+not account, accepted the invitation to be brief. In a few words he told
+exactly what had happened at Jacob Herapath's house.
+
+"My cousin is here, then?" exclaimed Barthorpe.
+
+"Miss Wynne is in the larger waiting-room down the corridor," replied
+Selwood.
+
+"I will go to her in a minute," said Barthorpe. "Now, inspector, there
+are certain things to be done at once. There will, of course, have to be
+an inquest--your people must give immediate notice to the coroner.
+Then--the body--that must be properly attended to--that, too, you will
+see about. Before you go away yourself, I want you to join me in
+collecting all the evidence we can get on the spot. You have one of your
+detective staff here?--good. Now, have you searched--him?"
+
+The inspector drew open a drawer in the front desk which occupied the
+centre of the room, and pointed to some articles which lay within.
+
+"Everything that we found upon him is in there," he answered. "You see
+there is not much--watch and chain, pocket articles, a purse, some loose
+money, a pocket-book, a cigar-case--that's all. One matter I should have
+expected to find, we didn't find."
+
+"What's that?" asked Barthorpe quickly.
+
+"Keys," answered the inspector. "We found no keys on him--not even a
+latch-key. Yet he must have let himself in here, and I understand from
+the caretaker that he must have unlocked this door after he'd entered by
+the outer one."
+
+Barthorpe made no immediate answer beyond a murmur of perplexity.
+
+"Strange," he said after a pause, during which he bent over the open
+drawer. "However, that's one of the things to be gone into. Close that
+drawer, lock it up, and for the present keep the key yourself--you and I
+will examine the contents later. Now for these immediate inquiries. Mr.
+Selwood, will you please telephone at once to Portman Square and tell
+Kitteridge to send Mountain, the coachman, here--instantly. Tell
+Kitteridge to come with him. Inspector, will you see to this arrangement
+we spoke of, and also tell the caretaker that we shall want him
+presently? Now I will go to my cousin."
+
+He strode off, still alert, composed, almost bustling in his demeanour,
+to the waiting-room in which they had left Peggie--a moment later,
+Selwood, following him down the corridor, saw him enter and close the
+door. And Selwood cursed himself for a fool for hating to think that
+these two should be closeted together, for disliking the notion that
+Barthorpe Herapath was Peggie Wynne's cousin--and now, probably, her
+guardian protector. For during those three weeks in which he had been
+Jacob Herapath's secretary, Selwood had seen a good deal of his
+employer's niece, and he was already well over the verge of falling in
+love with her, and was furious with himself for daring to think of a
+girl who was surely one of the richest heiresses in London. He was angry
+with himself, too, for disliking Barthorpe, for he was inclined to
+cultivate common-sense, and common-sense coldly reminded him that he did
+not know Barthorpe Herapath well enough to either like or dislike him.
+
+Half an hour passed--affairs suggestive of the tragedy of the night went
+on in the Herapath Estate Office. Two women in the garb of professional
+nurses came quietly, and passed into the room where Herapath lay dead. A
+man arrayed in dismal black came after them, summoned by the police who
+were busy at the telephone as soon as Selwood had finished with it.
+Selwood himself, having summoned Kitteridge and Mountain, hung about,
+waiting. He heard the police talking in undertones of clues and
+theories, and of a coroner's inquest, and the like; now and then he
+looked curiously at Mr. Tertius, who had taken a seat in the hall and
+was apparently wrapped in meditation. And still Barthorpe Herapath
+remained closeted with Peggie Wynne.
+
+A taxi drove up and deposited the butler and the coachman at the door.
+Selwood motioned them inside.
+
+"Mr. Barthorpe Herapath wants both of you," he said curtly. "I suppose
+he will ask for you presently."
+
+Kitteridge let out an anxious inquiry.
+
+"The master, sir?" he exclaimed. "Is----"
+
+"Good heavens!" muttered Selwood. "I--of course, you don't know. Mr.
+Herapath is dead."
+
+The two servants started and stared at each other. Before either could
+speak Barthorpe Herapath suddenly emerged from the waiting-room and
+looked round the hall. He beckoned to the inspector, who was talking in
+low tones with the detective, at a little distance.
+
+"Now, inspector," he said, "will you and your officer come in? And the
+caretaker--and you, Kitteridge, and you, Mountain. Mr. Selwood, will you
+come in, too?"
+
+He stood at the door while those he had invited inside passed into the
+room where Peggie still sat. And as he stood there, and Selwood wound up
+the little procession, Mr. Tertius rose and also made as if to join the
+others. Barthorpe stopped him by intruding himself between him and the
+door.
+
+"This is a private inquiry of my own, Mr. Tertius," he said, with a
+meaning look.
+
+Selwood, turning in sheer surprise at this announcement, so pointed and
+so unmistakable, saw a faint tinge of colour mount to the elder man's
+usually pale cheeks. Mr. Tertius stopped sharply and looked at Barthorpe
+in genuine surprise.
+
+"You do not wish me to enter--to be present?" he faltered.
+
+"Frankly, I don't," said Barthorpe, with aggressive plainness. "There
+will be a public inquiry--I can't stop you from attending that."
+
+Mr. Tertius drew back. He stood for a moment staring hard at Barthorpe;
+then, with a slight, scarcely perceivable bow, he turned away, crossed
+the hall, and went out of the front door. And Barthorpe Herapath
+laughed--a low, sneering laugh--and following the other men into the
+waiting-room, locked the door upon those assembled there. As if he and
+they were assembled on some cut-and-dried business matter, he waved them
+all to chairs, and himself dropped into one at the head of the table,
+close to that in which Peggie was sitting.
+
+"Now, inspector," he began, "you and I must get what we may as well call
+first information about this matter. There will be a vast amount of
+special and particular investigation later on, but I want us, at the
+very outset, while facts are fresh in the mind, to get certain
+happenings clearly before us. And for this reason--I understand that the
+police-surgeon is of opinion that my uncle committed suicide. With all
+respect to him--I'm sorry he's gone before I could talk to him--that
+theory cannot be held for an instant! My cousin, Miss Wynne, and I knew
+our uncle far too well to believe that theory for a single moment, and
+we shall combat it by every means in our power when the inquest is held.
+No--my uncle was murdered! Now I want to know all I can get to know of
+his movements last night. And first I think we'll hear what the
+caretaker can tell us. Hancock," he continued, turning to an elderly man
+who looked like an ex-soldier, "I understand you found my uncle's body?"
+
+The caretaker, obviously much upset by the affairs of the morning,
+pulled himself up to attention.
+
+"I did, sir," he replied.
+
+"What time was that?"
+
+"Just eight o'clock, sir--that's my usual time for opening the office."
+
+"Tell us exactly how you found him, Hancock."
+
+"I opened the door of Mr. Herapath's private room, sir, to pull up the
+blinds and open the window. When I walked in I saw him lying across the
+hearth-rug. Then I noticed the--the revolver."
+
+"And of course that gave you a turn. What did you do? Go into the room?"
+
+"No, sir! I shut the door again, went straight to the telephone and rang
+up the police-station. Then I waited at the front door till the
+inspector there came along."
+
+"Was the front door fastened as usual when you went to it at that time?"
+
+"It was fastened as it always is, sir, by the latch. It was Mr. Herapath's
+particular orders that it never should be fastened any other way at night,
+because he sometimes came in at night, with his latch-key."
+
+"Just so. Now these offices are quite apart and distinct from the rest
+of the building--mark that, inspector! There's no way out of them into
+the building, nor any way out of the building into them. In fact, the
+only entrance into these offices is by the front door. Isn't that so,
+Hancock?"
+
+"That's quite so, sir--only that one door."
+
+"No area entrance or side-door?"
+
+"None, sir--nothing but that."
+
+"And the only tenants in here--these offices--at night are you and your
+wife, Hancock?"
+
+"That's all, sir."
+
+"Now, where are your rooms?"
+
+"We've two rooms in the basement, sir--living-room and kitchen--and two
+rooms on the top floor--a bedroom and a bathroom."
+
+"On the top-floor. How many floors are there?"
+
+"Well, sir, there's the basement--then there's this--then there's two
+floors that's used by the clerks--then there's ours."
+
+"That's to say there are two floors between your bedroom and this ground
+floor?"
+
+"Yes, sir--two."
+
+"Very well. Now, about last night. What time did you and your wife go to
+bed?"
+
+"Eleven o'clock, sir--half an hour later than usual."
+
+"You'd previously looked round, I suppose?"
+
+"Been all round, sir--I always look into every room in the place last
+thing at night--thoroughly."
+
+"Are you and your wife sound sleepers?"
+
+"Yes, sir--both of us. Good sleepers."
+
+"You heard no sound after you got to bed?"
+
+"Nothing, sir--neither of us."
+
+"No recollection of hearing a revolver shot?--not even as if it were a
+long way off?"
+
+"No, sir--we never heard anything--nothing unusual, at any rate."
+
+"You heard no sound of doors opening or being shut, nor of any
+conveyance coming to the door?"
+
+"No, sir, nothing at all."
+
+"Well, one or two more questions, Hancock. You didn't go into the room
+after first catching sight of the body? Just so--but you'd notice
+things, even in a hurried glance. Did you notice any sign of a
+struggle--overturned chair or anything?"
+
+"No, sir. I did notice that Mr. Herapath's elbow chair, that he always
+sat in at his desk, was pushed back a bit, and was a bit on one side as
+it were. That was all."
+
+"And the light--the electric light? Was that on?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Then all you can tell us comes to this--that you never heard anything,
+and had no notion of what was happening, or had happened, until you came
+down in the morning?"
+
+"Just so, sir. If I'd known what was going on, or had gone on, I should
+have been down at once."
+
+Barthorpe nodded and turned to the coachman.
+
+"Now, Mountain," he said. "We want to hear your story. Be careful about
+your facts--what you can tell us is probably of the utmost importance."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE PRESSMAN
+
+
+The coachman, thus admonished, unconsciously edged his chair a little
+nearer to the table at which Barthorpe Herapath sat, and looked
+anxiously at his interrogator. He was a little, shrewd-eyed fellow, and
+it seemed to Selwood, who had watched him carefully during the informal
+examination to which Barthorpe had subjected the caretaker, that he had
+begun to think deeply over some new presentiment of this mystery which
+was slowly shaping itself in his mind.
+
+"I understand, Mountain, that you fetched Mr. Herapath from the House of
+Commons last night?" began Barthorpe. "You fetched him in the brougham,
+I believe?"
+
+"Yes, sir," answered the coachman. "Mr. Herapath always had the brougham
+at night--and most times, too, sir. Never took kindly to the motor,
+sir."
+
+"Where did you meet him, Mountain?"
+
+"Usual place, sir--in Palace Yard--just outside the Hall."
+
+"What time was that?"
+
+"Quarter past eleven, exactly, sir--the clock was just chiming the
+quarter as he came out."
+
+"Was Mr. Herapath alone when he came out?"
+
+"No sir. He came out with another gentleman--a stranger to me, sir. The
+two of 'em stood talking a bit a yard or two away from the brougham."
+
+"Did you hear anything they said?"
+
+"Just a word or two from Mr. Herapath, sir, as him and the other
+gentleman parted."
+
+"What were they?--tell us the words, as near as you can remember."
+
+"Mr. Herapath said, 'Have it ready for me tomorrow, and I'll look in at
+your place about noon.' That's all, sir."
+
+"What happened then?"
+
+"The other gentleman went off across the Yard, sir, and Mr. Herapath came
+to the brougham, and told me to drive him to the estate office--here,
+sir."
+
+"You drove him up to this door, I suppose?"
+
+"No, sir. Mr. Herapath never was driven up to the door--he always got
+out of the brougham in the road outside and walked up the archway. He
+did that last night."
+
+"From where you pulled up could you see if there was any light in these
+offices?"
+
+"No, sir--I pulled up just short of the entrance to the archway."
+
+"Did Mr. Herapath say anything to you when he got out?"
+
+"Yes, sir. He said he should most likely be three-quarters of an hour
+here, and that I'd better put a rug over the mare and walk her about."
+
+"Then I suppose he went up the archway. Now, did you see anybody about
+the entrance? Did you see any person waiting as if to meet him? Did he
+meet anybody?"
+
+"I saw no one, sir. As soon as he'd gone up the archway I threw a rug
+over the mare and walked her round and round the square across the
+road."
+
+"You heard and saw nothing of him until he came out again?"
+
+"Nothing, sir."
+
+"And how long was he away from you?"
+
+"Nearer an hour than three-quarters, sir."
+
+"Were you in full view of the entrance all that time?"
+
+"No, sir, I wasn't. Some of the time I was--some of it I'd my back to
+it."
+
+"You never saw any one enter the archway during the time Mr. Herapath
+was in the office?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"All the same, some one could have come here during that time without
+your seeing him?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir!"
+
+"Well, at last Mr. Herapath came out. Where did he rejoin you?"
+
+"In the middle of the road, sir--right opposite that statue in the
+Square gardens."
+
+"Did he say anything particular then?"
+
+"No, sir. He walked sharply across, opened the door, said 'Home' and
+jumped in."
+
+"You didn't notice anything unusual about him?"
+
+"Nothing, sir--unless it was that he hung his head down rather as he
+came across--same as if he was thinking hard, sir."
+
+"You drove straight home to Portman Square, then. What time did you get
+there?"
+
+"Exactly one o'clock, sir."
+
+"You're certain about that time?"
+
+"Certain, sir. It was just five minutes past one when I drove into our
+mews."
+
+"Now, then, be careful about this, Mountain. I want to know exactly what
+happened when you drove up to the house. Tell us in your own way."
+
+The coachman looked round amongst the listeners as if he were a little
+perplexed. "Why, sir," he answered, turning back to Barthorpe, "there
+was nothing happened! At least, I mean to say, there was nothing
+happened that didn't always happen on such occasions--Mr. Herapath got
+out of the brougham, shut the door, said 'Good night,' and went up the
+steps, taking his latch-key out of his pocket as he crossed the
+pavement, sir. That was all, sir."
+
+"Did you actually see him enter the house?"
+
+"No, sir," replied Mountain, with a decisive shake of the head. "I
+couldn't say that I did that. I saw him just putting the key in the
+latch as I drove off."
+
+"And that's all you know?"
+
+"That's all I know, sir--all."
+
+Barthorpe, after a moment's hesitation, turned to the police-inspector.
+
+"Is there anything that occurs to you?" he asked.
+
+"One or two things occur to me," answered the inspector. "But I'm not
+going to ask any questions now. I suppose all you want at present is to
+get a rough notion of how things were last night?"
+
+"Just so," assented Barthorpe. "A rough notion--that's it. Well,
+Kitteridge, it's your turn. Who found out that Mr. Herapath wasn't in
+the house this morning?"
+
+"Charlesworth, sir--Mr. Herapath's valet," replied the butler. "He
+always called Mr. Herapath at a quarter past seven every morning. When
+he went into the bedroom this morning Mr. Herapath wasn't there, and the
+bed hadn't been slept in. Then Charlesworth came and told me, sir, and
+of course I went to the study at once, and then I saw that, wherever Mr.
+Herapath might be then, he certainly had been home."
+
+"You judged that from--what?" asked Barthorpe.
+
+"Well, sir, it's been the rule to leave a supper-tray out for Mr.
+Herapath. Not much, sir--whisky and soda, a sandwich or two, a dry
+biscuit. I saw that he'd had something, sir."
+
+"Somebody else might have had it--eh?"
+
+"Yes, sir, but then you see, I'd had Mountain fetched by that time, and
+he told me that he'd seen Mr. Herapath letting himself in at one
+o'clock. So of course I knew the master had been in."
+
+Barthorpe hesitated, seemed to ponder matters for a moment, and then
+rose. "I don't think we need go into things any further just now," he
+said. "You, Kitteridge, and you, Mountain, can go home. Don't talk--that
+is, don't talk any more than is necessary. I suppose," he went on,
+turning to the inspector when the two servants and the caretaker had
+left the room. "I suppose you'll see to all the arrangements we spoke
+of?"
+
+"They're being carried out already," answered the inspector. "Of
+course," he added, drawing closer to Barthorpe and speaking in lower
+tones, "when the body's been removed, you'll join me in making a
+thorough inspection of the room? We haven't done that yet, you know, and
+it should be done. Wouldn't it be best," he continued with a glance at
+Peggie and a further lowering of his voice, "if the young lady went back
+to Portman Square?"
+
+"Just so, just so--I'll see to it," answered Barthorpe. "You go and keep
+people out of the way for a few minutes, and I'll get her off." He
+turned to his cousin when the two officers had left the room and
+motioned her to rise. "Now, Peggie," he said, "you must go home. I shall
+come along there myself in an hour or two--there are things to be done
+which you and I must do together. Mr. Selwood--will you take Miss Wynne
+out to the car? And then, please, come back to me--I want your
+assistance for a while."
+
+Peggie walked out of the room and to the car without demur or comment.
+But as she was about to take her seat she turned to Selwood.
+
+"Why didn't Mr. Tertius come into the room just now?" she demanded.
+
+Selwood hesitated. Until then he had thought that Peggie had heard the
+brief exchange of words between Barthorpe and Mr. Tertius at the door.
+
+"Didn't you hear what was said at the door when we were all coming in?"
+he asked suddenly, looking attentively at her.
+
+"I heard my cousin and Mr. Tertius talking, but I couldn't catch what
+was said," she replied. "If you did, tell me--I want to know."
+
+"Mr. Barthorpe Herapath refused to admit Mr. Tertius," said Selwood.
+
+"Refused?" she exclaimed. "Refused?"
+
+"Refused," repeated Selwood. "That's all I know."
+
+Peggie sat down and gave him an enigmatic look.
+
+"You, of course, will come back to the house when--when you've finished
+here?" she said.
+
+"I don't know--I suppose--really, I don't know," answered Selwood. "You
+see, I--I, of course, don't know exactly where I am, now. I suppose I
+must take my orders from--your cousin."
+
+Peggie gave him another look, more enigmatic than the other.
+
+"That's nonsense!" she said sharply. "Of course, you'll come. Do
+whatever it is that Barthorpe wants just now, but come on to Portman
+Square as soon as you've done it--I want you. Go straight home, Robson,"
+she went on, turning to the chauffeur.
+
+Selwood turned slowly and unwillingly back to the office door as the car
+moved off. And as he set his foot on the first step a young man came
+running up the entry--not hurrying but running--and caught him up and
+hailed him.
+
+"Mr. Selwood?" he said, pantingly. "You'll excuse me--you're Mr.
+Herapath's secretary, aren't you?--I've seen you with him. I'm Mr.
+Triffitt, of the _Argus_--I happened to call in at the police-station
+just now, and they told me of what had happened here, so I rushed along.
+Will you tell me all about it, Mr. Selwood?--it'll be a real scoop for
+me--I'll hustle down to the office with it at once, and we'll have a
+special out in no time. And whether you know it or not, that'll help the
+police. Give me the facts, Mr. Selwood!"
+
+Selwood stared at the ardent collector of news; then he motioned him to
+follow, and led him into the hall to where Barthorpe Herapath was
+standing with the police-inspector.
+
+"This is a newspaper man," he said laconically, looking at Barthorpe.
+"Mr. Triffitt, of the _Argus_. He wants the facts of this affair."
+
+Barthorpe turned and looked the new-comer up and down. Triffitt, who had
+almost recovered his breath, pulled out a card and presented it with a
+bow. And Barthorpe suddenly seemed to form a conclusion.
+
+"All right!" he said. "Mr. Selwood, you know all the facts. Take Mr.
+Triffitt into that room we've just left, and give him a resume of them.
+And--listen! we can make use of the press. Mention two matters, which
+seem to me to be of importance. Tell of the man who came out of the
+House of Commons with my uncle last night--ask him if he'll come
+forward. And, as my uncle must have returned to this office after he'd
+been home, and as he certainly wouldn't walk here, ask for information
+as to who drove him down to Kensington from Portman Square. Don't tell
+this man too much--give him the bare outlines on how matters stand."
+
+The reporter wrote at lightning speed while Selwood, who had some
+experience of condensation, gave him the news he wanted. Finding that he
+was getting a first-class story, Triffitt asked no questions and made no
+interruptions. But when Selwood was through with the account, he looked
+across the table with a queer glance of the eye.
+
+"I say!" he said. "This is a strange case!"
+
+"Why so strange?" asked Selwood.
+
+"Why? Great Scott!--I reckon it's an uncommonly strange case," exclaimed
+Triffitt. "It's about a dead certainty that Herapath was in his own
+house at Portman Square at one o'clock, isn't it?"
+
+"Well?" said Selwood.
+
+"And yet according to the doctor who examined him at eight o'clock he'd
+been dead quite eight hours!" said Triffitt. "That means he died at
+twelve o'clock--an hour before he's supposed to have been at his house!
+Queer! But all the queerer, all the better--for me! Now I'm off--for the
+present. This'll be on the streets in an hour, Mr. Selwood. Nothing like
+the press, sir!"
+
+Therewith he fled, and the secretary suddenly found himself confronting
+a new idea. If the doctor was right and Jacob Herapath had been shot
+dead at midnight, how on earth could he possibly have been in Portman
+Square at one o'clock, an hour later?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE GLASS AND THE SANDWICH
+
+
+Mr. Tertius, dismissed in such cavalier fashion by Barthorpe Herapath,
+walked out of the estate office with downcast head--a superficial
+observer might have said that he was thoroughly crestfallen and
+brow-beaten. But by the time he had reached the road outside, the two
+faint spots of colour which had flushed his cheeks when Barthorpe turned
+him away had vanished, and he was calm and collected enough when, seeing
+a disengaged taxi-cab passing by, he put up his hand and hailed it. The
+voice which bade the driver go to Portman Square was calm enough,
+too--Mr. Tertius had too much serious work immediately in prospect to
+allow himself to be disturbed by a rudeness.
+
+He thought deeply about that work as the taxi-cab whirled him along; he
+was still thinking about it when he walked into the big house in Portman
+Square. In there everything was very quiet. The butler was away at
+Kensington; the other servants were busily discussing the mystery of
+their master in their own regions. No one was aware that Mr. Tertius had
+returned, for he let himself into the house with his own latch-key, and
+went straight into Herapath's study. There, if possible, everything was
+still quieter--the gloom of the dull November morning seemed to be
+doubly accentuated in the nooks and corners; there was a sense of
+solitude which was well in keeping with Mr. Tertius's knowledge of what
+had happened. He looked at the vacant chair in which he had so often
+seen Jacob Herapath sitting, hard at work, active, bustling, intent on
+getting all he could out of every minute of his working day, and he
+sighed deeply.
+
+But in the moment of sighing Mr. Tertius reflected that there was no
+time for regret. It was a time--his time--for action; there was a thing
+to do which he wanted to do while he had the room to himself. Therefore
+he went to work, carefully and methodically. For a second or two he
+stood reflectively looking at the supper tray which still stood on the
+little table near the desk. With a light, delicate touch he picked up
+the glass which had been used and held it up to the light. He put it
+down again presently, went quietly out of the study to the dining-room
+across the hall, and returned at once with another glass precisely
+similar in make and pattern to the one which he had placed aside. Into
+that clear glass he poured some whisky, afterwards mixing with it some
+soda-water from the syphon--this mixture he poured away into the soil of
+a flower-pot which stood in the window. And that done he placed the
+second glass on the tray in the place where the first had stood, and
+picking up the first, in the same light, gingerly fashion, he went
+upstairs to his own rooms at the top of the house.
+
+Five minutes later Mr. Tertius emerged from his rooms. He then carried
+in his hand a small, square bag, and he took great care to handle it
+very carefully as he went downstairs and into the square. At the corner
+of Orchard Street he got another taxi-cab and bade the driver go to
+Endsleigh Gardens. And during the drive he took the greatest pains to
+nurse the little bag on his knee, thereby preserving the equilibrium of
+the glass inside it.
+
+Ringing the bell of one of the houses in Endsleigh Gardens, Mr. Tertius
+was presently confronted by a trim parlourmaid, whose smile was ample
+proof that the caller was well-known to her.
+
+"Is the Professor in, Mary?" asked Mr. Tertius. "And if he is, is he
+engaged?"
+
+The trim parlourmaid replied that the Professor was in, and that she
+hadn't heard that he was particularly engaged, and she immediately
+preceded the visitor up a flight or two of stairs to a door, which in
+addition to being thickly covered with green felt, was set in flanges of
+rubber--these precautions being taken, of course, to ensure silence in
+the apartment within. An electric bell was set in the door; a moment or
+two elapsed before any response was made to the parlourmaid's ring. Then
+the door automatically opened, the parlourmaid smiled at Mr. Tertius and
+retired; Mr. Tertius walked in; the door closed softly behind him.
+
+The room in which the visitor found himself was a large and lofty one,
+lighted from the roof, from which it was also ventilated by a patent
+arrangement of electric fans. Everything that met the view betokened
+science, order, and method. The walls, destitute of picture or ornament,
+were of a smooth neutral tinted plaster; where they met the floor the
+corners were all carefully rounded off so that no dust could gather in
+cracks and crevices; the floor, too, was of smooth cement; there was no
+spot in which a speck of dust could settle in improper peace. A series
+of benches ran round the room, and gave harbourings to a collection of
+scientific instruments of strange appearance and shape; two large
+tables, one at either end of the room, were similarly equipped. And at a
+desk placed between them, and just then occupied in writing in a
+note-book, sat a large man, whose big muscular body was enveloped in a
+brown holland blouse or overall, fashioned something like a smock-frock
+of the old-fashioned rural labourer. He lifted a colossal, mop-like head
+and a huge hand as Mr. Tertius stepped across the threshold, and his
+spectacled eyes twinkled as their glance fell on the bag which the
+visitor carried so gingerly.
+
+"Hullo, Tertius!" exclaimed the big man, in a deep, rich voice. "What
+have you got there? Specimens?"
+
+Mr. Tertius looked round for a quite empty space on the adjacent bench,
+and at last seeing one, set his bag down upon it, and sighed with
+relief.
+
+"My dear Cox-Raythwaite!" he said, mopping his forehead with a bandanna
+handkerchief which he drew from the tail of his coat. "I am thankful to
+have got these things here in--I devoutly trust!--safety. Specimens?
+Well, not exactly; though, to be sure, they may be specimens of--I don't
+quite know what villainy yet. Objects?--certainly! Perhaps, my dear
+Professor, you will come and look at them."
+
+The Professor slowly lifted his six feet of muscle and sinew out of his
+chair, picked up a briar pipe which lay on his desk, puffed a great
+cloud of smoke out of it, and lounged weightily across the room to his
+visitor.
+
+"Something alive?" he asked laconically. "Likely to bite?"
+
+"Er--no!" replied Mr. Tertius. "No--they won't bite. The fact is," he
+went on, gingerly opening the bag, "this--er--this, or these are they."
+
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite bent his massive head and shoulders over the
+little bag and peered narrowly into its obscurity. Then he started.
+
+"Good Lord!" he exclaimed. "A glass tumbler! And--is it a sandwich? Why,
+what on earth----"
+
+He made as if to pull the glass out of the bag, and Mr. Tertius hastily
+seized the great hand in an agony of apprehension.
+
+"My dear Cox-Raythwaite!" he said. "Pray don't! Allow me--presently.
+When either of these objects is touched it must be in the most, quite
+the most, delicate fashion. Of course, I know you have a fairy-like
+gentleness of touch--but don't touch these things yet. Let me explain.
+Shall we--suppose we sit down. Give me--yes--give me one of your
+cigars."
+
+The Professor, plainly mystified, silently pointed to a cigar box which
+stood on a corner of his desk, and took another look into the bag.
+
+"A sandwich--and a glass!" he murmured reflectively. "Um! Well?" he
+continued, going back to his chair and dropping heavily into it. "And
+what's it all about, Tertius? Some mystery, eh?"
+
+Mr. Tertius drew a whiff or two of fragrant Havana before he replied.
+Then he too dropped into a chair and pulled it close to his friend's
+desk.
+
+"My dear Professor!" he said, in a low, thrilling voice, suggestive of
+vast importance, "I don't know whether the secret of one of the most
+astounding crimes of our day may not lie in that innocent-looking
+bag--or, rather, in its present contents. Fact! But I'll tell you--you
+must listen with your usual meticulous care for small details. The truth
+is--Jacob Herapath has, I am sure, been murdered!"
+
+"Murdered!" exclaimed the Professor. "Herapath? Murder--eh? Now then,
+slow and steady, Tertius--leave out nothing!"
+
+"Nothing!" repeated Mr. Tertius solemnly. "Nothing! You shall hear
+all. And this it is--point by point, from last night until--until
+the present moment. That is--so far as I know. There may have been
+developments--somewhere else. But this is what I know."
+
+When Mr. Tertius had finished a detailed and thorough-going account of
+the recent startling discovery and subsequent proceedings, to all of
+which Professor Cox-Raythwaite listened in profound silence, he rose,
+and tip-toeing towards the bag, motioned his friend to follow him.
+
+"Now, my dear sir," he said, whispering in his excitement as if he
+feared lest the very retorts and crucibles and pneumatic troughs should
+hear him, "Now, my dear sir, I wish you to see for yourself. First of
+all, the glass. I will take it out myself--I know exactly how I put it
+in. I take it out--thus! I place it on this vacant space--thus. Look for
+yourself, my dear fellow. What do you see?"
+
+The Professor, watching Mr. Tertius's movements with undisguised
+interest, took off his spectacles, picked up a reading-glass, bent down
+and carefully examined the tumbler.
+
+"Yes," he said, after a while, "yes, Tertius, I certainly see distinct
+thumb and finger-marks round the upper part of this glass. Oh, yes--no
+doubt of that!"
+
+"Allow me to take one of your clean specimen slides," observed Mr.
+Tertius, picking up a square of highly polished glass. "There! I place
+this slide here and upon it I deposit this sandwich. Now, my dear
+Cox-Raythwaite, favour me by examining the sandwich even more closely
+than you did the glass--if necessary."
+
+But the Professor shook his head. He clapped Mr. Tertius on the
+shoulder.
+
+"Excellent!" he exclaimed. "Good! Pooh!--no need for care there. The
+thing's as plain as--as I am. Good, Tertius, good!"
+
+"You see it?" said Mr. Tertius, delightedly.
+
+"See it! Good Lord, why, who could help see it?" answered the Professor.
+"Needs no great amount of care or perception to see that, as I said. Of
+course, I see it. Glad you did, too!"
+
+"But we must take the greatest care of it," urged Mr. Tertius. "The most
+particular care. That's why I came to you. Now, what can we do? How
+preserve this sandwich--just as it is?"
+
+"Nothing easier," replied the Professor. "We'll soon fix that. We'll put
+it in such safety that it will still be a fresh thing if it remains
+untouched until London Bridge falls down from sheer decay."
+
+He moved off to another part of the laboratory, and presently returned
+with two objects, one oblong and shallow, the other deep and square,
+which on being set down before Mr. Tertius proved to be glass boxes,
+wonderfully and delicately made, with removable lids that fitted into
+perfectly adjusted grooves.
+
+"There, my dear fellow," he said. "Presently I will deposit the glass in
+that, and the sandwich in this. Then I shall adjust and seal the lids in
+such a fashion that no air can enter these little chambers. Then through
+those tiny orifices I shall extract whatever air is in them--to the most
+infinitesimal remnant of it. Then I shall seal those orifices--and there
+you are. Whoever wants to see that sandwich or that glass will find both
+a year hence--ten years hence--a century hence!--in precisely the same
+condition in which we now see them. And that reminds me," he continued,
+as he turned away to his desk and picked up his pipe, "that reminds me,
+Tertius--what are you going to do about these things being seen?
+They'll have to be seen, you know. Have you thought of the police--the
+detectives?"
+
+"I have certainly thought of both," replied Mr. Tertius. "But--I think
+not yet, in either case. I think one had better await the result of the
+inquest. Something may come out, you know."
+
+"Coroners and juries," observed the Professor oracularly, "are good at
+finding the obvious. Whether they get at the mysteries and the
+secrets----"
+
+"Just so--just so!" said Mr. Tertius. "I quite apprehend you. All the
+same, I think we will see what is put before the coroner. Now, what
+point suggests itself to you, Cox-Raythwaite?"
+
+"One in particular," answered the Professor. "Whatever medical evidence
+is called ought to show without reasonable doubt what time Herapath
+actually met his death."
+
+"Quite so," said Mr. Tertius gravely. "If that's once established----"
+
+"Then, of course, your own investigation, or suggestion, or theory about
+that sandwich will be vastly simplified," replied the Professor.
+"Meanwhile, you will no doubt take some means of observing--eh?"
+
+"I shall use every means to observe," said Mr. Tertius with a significant
+smile, which was almost a wink. "Of that you may be--dead certain!"
+
+Then he left Professor Cox-Raythwaite to hermetically seal up the glass
+and the sandwich, and quitting the house, walked slowly back to Portman
+Square. As he turned out of Oxford Street into Orchard Street the
+newsboys suddenly came rushing along with the _Argus_ special.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE TAXI-CAB DRIVER
+
+
+Mr. Tertius bought a copy of the newspaper, and standing aside on the
+pavement, read with much interest and surprise the story which
+Triffitt's keen appetite for news and ready craftsmanship in writing had
+so quickly put together. Happening to glance up from the paper in the
+course of his reading, he observed that several other people were
+similarly employed. The truth was that Triffitt had headed his column:
+"MYSTERIOUS DEATH OF MR. HERAPATH, M.P. IS IT SUICIDE OR MURDER?"--and
+as this also appeared in great staring letters on the contents bills
+which the newsboys were carrying about with them, and as Herapath had
+been well known in that district, there was a vast amount of interest
+aroused thereabouts by the news. Indeed, people were beginning to
+chatter on the sidewalks, and at the doors of the shops. And as Mr.
+Tertius turned away in the direction of Portman Square, he heard one
+excited bystander express a candid opinion.
+
+"Suicide?" exclaimed this man, thrusting his paper into the hands of a
+companion. "Not much! Catch old Jacob Herapath at that game--he was a
+deuced deal too fond of life and money! Murder, sir--murder!--that's the
+ticket--murder!"
+
+Mr. Tertius went slowly homeward, head bent and eyes moody. He let
+himself into the house; at the sound of his step in the hall Peggie
+Wynne looked out of the study. She retreated into it at sight of Mr.
+Tertius, and he followed her and closed the door. Looking narrowly at
+her, he saw that the girl had been shedding tears, and he laid his hand
+shyly yet sympathetically on her arm. "Yes," he said quietly, "I've been
+feeling like that ever since--since I heard about things. But I don't
+know--I suppose we shall feel it more when--when we realize it more, eh?
+Just now there's the other thing to think about, isn't there?"
+
+Peggie mopped her eyes and looked at him. He was such a quiet,
+unobtrusive, inoffensive old gentleman that she wondered more than ever
+why Barthorpe had refused to admit him to the informal conference.
+
+"What other thing?" she asked.
+
+Mr. Tertius looked round the room--strangely empty now that Jacob
+Herapath's bustling and strenuous presence was no longer in it--and
+shook his head.
+
+"There's one thought you mustn't permit yourself to harbour for a moment,
+my dear," he answered. "Don't even for a fraction of time allow yourself
+to think that my old friend took his own life! That's--impossible."
+
+"I don't," said Peggie. "I never did think so. It is, as you say,
+impossible. I knew him too well to believe that. So, of course,
+it's----"
+
+"Murder," assented Mr. Tertius. "Murder! I heard a man in the street
+voice the same opinion just now. Of course! It's the only opinion. Yet
+in the newspaper they're asking which it was. But I suppose the
+newspapers must be--sensational."
+
+"You don't mean to say it's in the newspapers already?" exclaimed
+Peggie.
+
+Mr. Tertius handed to her the _Argus_ special, which he had carried
+crumpled up in his hand.
+
+"Everybody's reading it out there in the streets," he said. "It's
+extraordinary, now, how these affairs seem to fascinate people.
+Yes--it's all there. That is, of course, as far as it's gone."
+
+"How did the paper people come to know all this?" asked Peggie, glancing
+rapidly over Triffitt's leaded lines.
+
+"I suppose they got it from the police," replied Mr. Tertius. "I don't
+know much about such matters, but I believe the police and the Press are
+in constant touch. Of course, it's well they should be--it attracts
+public notice. And in cases like this, public notice is an excellent
+thing. We shall have to hear--and find out--a good deal before we get at
+the truth in this case, my dear."
+
+Peggie suddenly flung down the newspaper and looked inquiringly at the
+old man.
+
+"Mr. Tertius," she said abruptly, "why wouldn't Barthorpe let you come
+into that room down there at the office this morning?"
+
+Mr. Tertius did not answer this direct question at once. He walked away
+to the window and stood looking out into the square for a while. When
+at last he spoke his voice was singularly even and colourless. He might
+have been discussing a question on which it was impossible to feel any
+emotion.
+
+"I really cannot positively say, my dear," he replied. "I have known, of
+course, for some time that Mr. Barthorpe Herapath is not well disposed
+towards me. I have observed a certain coldness, a contempt, on his part.
+I have been aware that he has resented my presence in this house. And I
+suppose he felt that as I am not a member of the family, I had no right
+to sit in council with him and with you."
+
+"Not a member of the family!" exclaimed Peggie. "Why, you came here soon
+after I came--all those years ago!"
+
+"I have dwelt under Jacob Herapath's roof, in this house, fifteen
+years," said Mr. Tertius, reflectively. "Fifteen years!--yes. Yes--Jacob
+and I were--good friends."
+
+As he spoke the last word a tear trickled from beneath Mr. Tertius's
+spectacles and ran down into his beard, and Peggie, catching sight of
+it, impulsively jumped from her seat and kissed him affectionately.
+
+"Never mind, Mr. Tertius!" she said, patting his shoulders. "You and I
+are friends, too, anyway. I don't like Barthorpe when he's like that--I
+hate that side of him. And anyhow, Barthorpe doesn't matter--to me. I
+don't suppose he matters to anything--except himself."
+
+Mr. Tertius gravely shook his head.
+
+"Mr. Barthorpe Herapath may matter a great deal, my dear," he remarked.
+"He is a very forceful person. I do not know what provision my poor
+friend may have made, but Barthorpe, you will remember, is his nephew,
+and, I believe, his only male relative. And in that case----"
+
+Mr. Tertius was just then interrupted by the entrance of a footman who
+came in and looked inquiringly at Peggie.
+
+"There's a taxi-cab driver at the door, miss," he announced. "He says he
+would like to speak to some one about the news in the paper about--about
+the master, miss."
+
+Peggie looked at Mr. Tertius. And Mr. Tertius quickly made a sign to the
+footman.
+
+"Bring the man in at once," he commanded. And, as if to lose no time, he
+followed the footman into the hall, and at once returned, conducting a
+young man who carried a copy of the _Argus_ in his hand. "Yes?" he said,
+closing the door behind them and motioning the man to a seat. "You wish
+to tell us something! This lady is Miss Wynne--Mr. Herapath's niece. You
+can tell us anything you think of importance. Do you know anything,
+then?"
+
+The taxi-cab driver lifted the _Argus_.
+
+"This here newspaper, sir," he answered. "I've just been reading of
+it--about Mr. Herapath, sir."
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Tertius gently. "Yes?"
+
+"Well, sir--strikes me as how I drove him, sir, this morning," answered
+the driver. "Gentleman of his appearance, anyway, sir--that's a fact!"
+
+Mr. Tertius glanced at Peggie, who was intently watching the caller.
+
+"Ah!" he said, turning again to the driver, "you think you drove either
+Mr. Herapath or a gentleman of his appearance this morning. You did not
+know Mr. Herapath by sight, then?"
+
+"No, sir. I've only just come into this part--came for the first time
+yesterday. But I'm as certain----"
+
+"Just tell us all about it," said Mr. Tertius, interrupting him. "Tell
+us in your own way. Everything, you know."
+
+"Ain't so much to tell, sir," responded the driver. "All the same,
+soon's I'd seen this piece in the paper just now I said to myself, 'I'd
+best go round to Portman Square and tell what I do know,' I says. And
+it's like this, sir--I come on this part yesterday--last night it was.
+My taxi belongs to a man as keeps half a dozen, and he put me on to
+night work, this end of Oxford Street. Well, it 'ud be just about a
+quarter to two this morning when a tall, well-built gentleman comes out
+of Orchard Street and made for my cab. I jumps down and opens the door
+for him. 'You know St. Mary Abbot's Church, Kensington?' he says as he
+got in. 'Drive me down there and pull up at the gate.' So, of course, I
+ran him down, and there he got out, give me five bob, and off he went.
+That's it, sir."
+
+"And when he got out, which way did he go?" asked Mr. Tertius.
+
+"West, sir--along the High Street, past the Town Hall," promptly
+answered the driver. "And there he crossed the road. I see him cross,
+because I stopped there a minute or two after he'd got out, tinkering at
+my engine."
+
+"Can you tell us what this gentleman was like in appearance?" asked Mr.
+Tertius.
+
+"Well, sir, not so much as regards his face," answered the driver. "I
+didn't look at him, not particular, in that way--besides, he was wearing
+one of them overcoats with a big fur collar to it, and he'd the collar
+turned high up about his neck and cheeks, and his hat--one of them
+slouched, soft hats, like so many gentlemen wears nowadays sir--was well
+pulled down. But from what bit I see of him, sir, I should say he was a
+fresh-coloured gentleman."
+
+"Tall and well built, you say?" observed Mr. Tertius.
+
+"Yes, sir--fine-made gentleman--pretty near six feet, I should have
+called him," replied the driver. "Little bit inclined to stoutness,
+like."
+
+Mr. Tertius turned to Peggie.
+
+"I believe you have some recent photographs of Mr. Herapath," he said.
+"You might fetch them and let me see if our friend here can recognize
+them. You didn't notice anything else about your fare?" he went on,
+after Peggie had left the room. "Anything that excited your attention,
+eh?"
+
+The driver, after examining the pattern of the carpet for one minute and
+studying the ceiling for another, slowly shook his head. But he then
+suddenly started into something like activity.
+
+"Yes, there was, sir, now I come to think of it!" he exclaimed. "I
+hadn't thought of it until now, but now you mention it, there was. I
+noticed he'd a particularly handsome diamond ring on his left hand--an
+extra fine one, too, it was."
+
+"Ah!" said Mr. Tertius. "A very fine diamond ring on his left hand? Now,
+how did you come to see that?"
+
+"He rested that hand on the side of the door as he was getting in, sir,
+and I noticed how it flashed," answered the driver. "There was a lamp
+right against us, you see, sir."
+
+"I see," said Mr. Tertius. "He wasn't wearing gloves, then?"
+
+"He hadn't a glove on that hand, sir. He was carrying some papers in
+it--a sort of little roll of papers."
+
+"Ah!" murmured Mr. Tertius. "A diamond ring--and a little roll of
+papers." He got up from his chair and put a hand in his pocket. "Now, my
+friend," he went on, chinking some coins as he withdrew it, "you haven't
+told this to any one else, I suppose?"
+
+"No, sir," answered the driver. "Came straight here, sir."
+
+"There's a couple of sovereigns for your trouble," said Mr. Tertius,
+"and there'll be more for you if you do what I tell you to do. At
+present--that is, until I give you leave--don't say a word of this to a
+soul. Not even to the police--yet. In fact, not a word to them until I
+say you may. Keep your mouth shut until I tell you to open it--I shall
+know where to find you. If you want me, keep an eye open for me in the
+square outside, or in the street. When the young lady comes back with
+the photographs, don't mention the ring to her. This is a very queer
+business, and I don't want too much said just yet. Do as I tell you, and
+I'll see you're all right. Understand?"
+
+The driver pocketed his sovereigns, and touched his forehead with a
+knowing look.
+
+"All right, sir," he said. "I understand. Depend on me, sir--I shan't
+say a word without your leave."
+
+Peggie came in just then with a half a dozen cabinet photographs in her
+hand. One by one she exhibited them to the driver.
+
+"Do you recognize any of these?" she asked.
+
+The driver shook his head doubtingly until Peggie showed him a
+half-length of her uncle in outdoor costume. Then his eyes lighted up.
+
+"Couldn't swear as to the features, miss," he exclaimed. "But I'd take
+my 'davy about the coat and the hat! That's what the gentleman was
+wearing as I drove this morning--take my Gospel oath on it."
+
+"He recognizes the furred overcoat and the soft hat," murmured Mr.
+Tertius. "Very good--very good! All right, my man--we are much obliged
+to you."
+
+He went out into the hall with the driver, and had another word in
+secret with him before the footman opened the door. As the door closed
+Mr. Tertius turned slowly back to the study. And as he turned he
+muttered a word or two and smiled cynically.
+
+"A diamond ring!" he said. "Jacob Herapath never wore a diamond ring in
+his life!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+IS THERE A WILL?
+
+
+When Triffitt hurried off with his precious budget of news Selwood
+lingered on the step of the office watching his retreating figure, and
+wondering about the new idea which the reporter had put into his mind.
+It was one of those ideas which instantly arouse all sorts of vague,
+sinister possibilities, but Selwood found himself unable to formulate
+anything definite out of any of them. Certainly, if Mr. Herapath died
+at, or before, twelve o'clock midnight, he could not have been in
+Portman Square at one o'clock in the morning! Yet, according to all the
+evidence, he had been there, in his own house, in his own study. His
+coachman had seen him in the act of entering the house; there was proof
+that he had eaten food and drunk liquor in the house. The doctor must
+have made a mistake--and yet, Selwood remembered, he had spoken very
+positively. But if he had not made a mistake?--what then? How could
+Jacob Herapath be lying dead in his office at Kensington and nibbling at
+a sandwich in Portman Square at one and the same hour? Clearly there was
+something wrong, something deeply mysterious, something----
+
+At that point of his surmisings and questionings Selwood heard himself
+called by Barthorpe Herapath, and he turned to see that gentleman
+standing in the hall dangling a bunch of keys, which Selwood instantly
+recognized.
+
+"We have just found these keys," said Barthorpe. "You remember the
+inspector said he found no keys in my uncle's pockets? We found these
+pushed away under some loose papers on the desk. It looks as if he'd put
+them on the desk when he sat down, and had displaced them when he fell
+out of his chair. Of course, they're his--perhaps you recognize them?"
+
+"Yes," answered Selwood, abruptly. "They're his."
+
+"I want you to come with me while I open his private safe," continued
+Barthorpe. "At junctures like these there are always things that have got
+to be done. Now, did you ever hear my uncle speak of his will--whether
+he'd made one, and, if so, where he'd put it? Hear anything?"
+
+"Nothing," replied Selwood. "I never heard him mention such a thing."
+
+"Well, between ourselves," said Barthorpe, "neither did I. I've done all
+his legal work for him for a great many years--ever since I began to
+practice, in fact--and so far as I know, he never made a will. More than
+once I've suggested that he should make one, but like most men who are
+in good health and spirits, he always put it off. However, we must look
+over his papers both here and at Portman Square."
+
+Selwood made no comment. He silently followed Barthorpe into the
+private room in which his late employer had so strangely met his death.
+The body had been removed by that time, and everything bore its usual
+aspect, save for the presence of the police inspector and the detective,
+who were peering about them in the mysterious fashion associated with
+their calling. The inspector was looking narrowly at the fastenings of
+the two windows and apparently debating the chances of entrance and exit
+from them; the detective, armed with a magnifying glass, was examining
+the edges of the door, the smooth backs of chairs, even the surface of
+the desk, presumably for finger-marks.
+
+"I shan't disturb you," said Barthorpe, genially. "Mr. Selwood and I
+merely wish to investigate the contents of this safe. There's no
+likelihood of finding what I'm particularly looking for in any of his
+drawers in that desk," he continued, turning to Selwood. "I knew enough
+of his habits to know that anything that's in there will be of a purely
+business nature--referring to the estate. If he did keep anything that's
+personal here, it'll be in that safe. Now, which is the key? Do you
+know?"
+
+He handed the bunch of keys to Selwood. And Selwood, who was feeling
+strangely apathetic about the present proceedings, took them mechanically
+and glanced carelessly at them. Then he started.
+
+"There's a key missing!" he exclaimed, suddenly waking into interest. "I
+know these keys well enough--Mr. Herapath was constantly handing them to
+me. There ought to be six keys here--the key of this safe, the key of
+the safe at Portman Square, the latch-key for this office, the key of
+this room, the latch-key of the house, and a key of a safe at the Alpha
+Safe Deposit place. That one--the Safe Deposit key--is missing."
+
+Barthorpe knitted his forehead, and the two police officials paused in
+their tasks and drew near the desk at which Selwood was standing.
+
+"Are you certain of that?" asked Barthorpe.
+
+"Sure!" answered Selwood. "As I say, I've been handling these keys every
+day since I came to Mr. Herapath."
+
+"When did you handle them last?"
+
+"Yesterday afternoon: not so very long before Mr. Herapath went down to
+the House. That was in Portman Square. He gave them to me to get some
+papers out of the safe there."
+
+"Was that Safe Deposit key there at that time?"
+
+"They were all there--all six. I'm certain of it," asserted Selwood.
+"This is the key of this safe," he went on, selecting one.
+
+"Open the safe, then," said Barthorpe. "Another safe at the Alpha, eh?"
+he continued, musingly. "I never knew he had a safe there. Did you ever
+know him to use it?"
+
+"I've been to it myself," answered Selwood. "I took some documents there
+and deposited them, two days ago. There's not very much in this safe,"
+he went on, throwing open the door. "It's not long since I tidied it
+out--at his request. So far as I know, there are no private papers of
+any note there. He never made much use of this safe--in my presence, at
+any rate."
+
+"Well, we'll see what there is, anyhow," remarked Barthorpe. He began to
+examine the contents of the safe methodically, taking the various papers
+and documents out one by one and laying them in order on a small table
+which Selwood wheeled up to his side. Within twenty minutes he had gone
+through everything, and he began to put the papers back.
+
+"No will there," he murmured. "We'll go on to Portman Square now, Mr.
+Selwood. After all, it's much more likely that he'd keep his will in the
+safe at his own house--if he made one. But I don't believe he ever made
+a will."
+
+Mr. Tertius and Peggie Wynne were still in the study when Barthorpe and
+Selwood drove up to the house. The driver of the taxi-cab had just gone
+away, and Mr. Tertius was discussing his information with Peggie.
+Hearing Barthorpe's voice in the hall he gave her a warning glance.
+
+"Quick!" he said hurriedly. "Attend to what I say! Not a word to your
+cousin about the man who has just left us. At present I don't want Mr.
+Barthorpe Herapath to know what he told us. Be careful, my dear--not a
+word! I'll tell you why later on--but at present, silence--strict
+silence!"
+
+Barthorpe Herapath came bustling into the room, followed by Selwood,
+who, as it seemed to Peggie, looked utterly unwilling for whatever task
+might lay before him. At sight of Mr. Tertius, Barthorpe came to a
+sudden halt and frowned.
+
+"I don't want to discuss matters further, Mr. Tertius," he said coldly.
+"I thought I had given you a hint already. My cousin and I have private
+matters to attend to, and I shall be obliged if you'll withdraw. You've
+got private rooms of your own in this house, I believe--at any rate,
+until things are settled--and it will be best if you keep to them."
+
+Mr. Tertius, who had listened to this unmoved, turned to Peggie.
+
+"Do you wish me to go away?" he asked quietly.
+
+Barthorpe turned on him with an angry scowl.
+
+"It's not a question of what Miss Wynne wishes, but of what I order," he
+burst out. "If you've any sense of fitness, you'll know that until my
+uncle's will is found and his wishes ascertained I'm master here, Mr.
+Tertius, and----"
+
+"You're not my master, Barthorpe," exclaimed Peggie, with a sudden flash
+of spirit. "I know what my uncle's wishes were as regards Mr. Tertius,
+and I intend to respect them. I've always been mistress of this house
+since my uncle brought me to it, and I intend to be until I find I've no
+right to be. Mr. Tertius, you'll please to stop where you are!"
+
+"I intend to," said Mr. Tertius, calmly. "I never had any other
+intention. Mr. Barthorpe Herapath, I believe, will hardly use force to
+compel me to leave the room."
+
+Barthorpe bit his lips as he glanced from one to the other.
+
+"Oh!" he said. "So that's how things are? Very good, Mr. Tertius. No, I
+shan't use physical force. But mind I don't use a little moral force--a
+slight modicum of that would be enough for you, I'm thinking!"
+
+"Do I understand that you are using threatening language to me?" asked
+Mr. Tertius, mildly.
+
+Barthorpe sneered, and turned to Selwood.
+
+"We'll open this safe now," he said. "You know which is the key, I
+suppose," he went on, glaring at Peggie, who had retreated to the
+hearthrug and was evidently considerably put out by her cousin's
+behaviour. "I suppose you never heard my uncle mention a will? We've
+searched his private safe at the office and there's nothing there.
+Personally, I don't believe he ever made a will--I never heard of it.
+And I think he'd have told me if--"
+
+Mr. Tertius broke in upon Barthorpe's opinions with a dry cough.
+
+"It may save some unnecessary trouble if I speak at this juncture," he
+said. "There is a will."
+
+Barthorpe's ruddy cheeks paled in spite of his determined effort to
+appear unconcerned. He twisted round on Mr. Tertius with a startled eye
+and twitching lips.
+
+"You--you say there is a will!" he exclaimed. "You say--what do you know
+about it?"
+
+"When it was made, where it was made, where it now is," answered Mr.
+Tertius.
+
+"Where it now is!" repeated Barthorpe. "Where it now--is! And where is
+it, I should like to know?"
+
+Mr. Tertius, who had gone up to Peggie, laid his hand reassuringly on
+her arm.
+
+"Don't be afraid, my dear," he whispered. "Perhaps," he continued,
+glancing at Barthorpe, "I had better tell you when and where it was
+made. About six months ago--in this room. One day Mr. Herapath called me
+in here. He had his then secretary, Mr. Burchill, with him. He took a
+document out of a drawer, told us that it was his will, signed it in our
+joint presence, and we witnessed his signature in each other's presence.
+He then placed the will in an envelope, which he sealed. I do not know
+the terms of the will--but I know where the will is."
+
+Barthorpe's voice sounded strangely husky as he got out one word:
+
+"Where?"
+
+Mr. Tertius took Peggie by the elbow and led her across the room to a
+recess in which stood an ancient oak bureau.
+
+"This old desk," he said, "belonged, so he always told me, to Jacob's
+great-grandfather. There is a secret drawer in it. Here it is--concealed
+behind another drawer. You put this drawer out--so--and here is the
+secret one. And here--where I saw Jacob Herapath put it--is the will."
+
+Barthorpe, who had followed these proceedings with almost irrepressible
+eagerness, thrust forward a shaking hand. But Mr. Tertius quietly handed
+the sealed envelope to Peggie.
+
+"This envelope," he remarked, "is addressed to Miss Wynne."
+
+Barthorpe made an effort and controlled himself.
+
+"Open it!" he said hoarsely. "Open it!"
+
+Peggie fumbled with the seal of the envelope and then, with a sudden
+impulse, passed it to Selwood.
+
+"Mr. Selwood!" she exclaimed imploringly. "You--I can't. You open it,
+and--"
+
+"And let him read it," added Mr. Tertius.
+
+Selwood, whose nerves had been strung to a high pitch of excitement by
+this scene, hastily slit open the envelope, and drew out a folded sheet
+of foolscap paper. He saw at a glance that there was very little to
+read. His voice trembled slightly as he began a recital of the contents.
+
+ "'This is the last will of me, Jacob Herapath, of 500,
+ Portman Square, London, in the County of Middlesex. I
+ give, devise, and bequeath everything of which I die
+ possessed, whether in real or personal estate, absolutely
+ to my niece, Margaret Wynne, now resident with me at the
+ above address, and I appoint the said Margaret Wynne the
+ sole executor of this my will. And I revoke all former
+ wills and codicils. Dated this eighteenth day of April,
+ 1912.
+
+ "'JACOB HERAPATH.'"
+
+Selwood paused there, and a sudden silence fell--to be as suddenly
+broken by a sharp question from Barthorpe.
+
+"The Witnesses?" he said. "The witnesses!"
+
+Selwood glanced at the further paragraph which he had not thought it
+necessary to read.
+
+"Oh, yes!" he said. "It's witnessed all right." And he went on reading.
+
+ "'Signed by the testator in the presence of us both
+ present at the same time who in his presence and in the
+ presence of each other have hereunto set our names as
+ witnesses.
+
+ "'JOHN CHRISTOPHER TERTIUS, of 500, Portman Square,
+ London: Gentleman.
+
+ "'FRANK BURCHILL, of 331, Upper Seymour Street, London:
+ Secretary.'"
+
+As Selwood finished, he handed the will to Peggie, who in her turn
+hastily gave it to Mr. Tertius. For a moment nobody spoke. Then
+Barthorpe made a step forward.
+
+"Let me see that!" he said, in a strangely quiet voice. "I don't want to
+handle it--hold it up!"
+
+For another moment he stood gazing steadily, intently, at the signatures
+at the foot of the document. Then, without a word or look, he twisted
+sharply on his heel, and walked swiftly out of the room and the house.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE SECOND WITNESS
+
+
+If any close observer had walked away with Barthorpe Herapath from the
+house in Portman Square and had watched his face and noted his manner,
+that observer would have said that his companion looked like a man who was
+either lost in a profound day-dream or had just received a shock that had
+temporarily deprived him of all but the mechanical faculties. And in point
+of strict fact, Barthorpe was both stunned by the news he had just
+received and plunged into deep speculation by a certain feature of it. He
+hurried along, scarcely knowing where he was going--but he was thinking
+all the same. And suddenly he pulled himself up and found that he had
+turned down Portman Street and was already in the thick of Oxford Street's
+busy crowds. A passer-by into whom he jostled in his absent-mindedness
+snarled angrily, bidding him look where he was going--that pulled
+Barthorpe together and he collected his wits, asking himself what he
+wanted. The first thing that met his gaze on this recovery was a little
+Italian restaurant and he straightway made for the door.
+
+"This is what I want," he muttered. "Some place in which to sit down and
+think calmly."
+
+He slipped into a quiet corner as soon as he had entered the restaurant,
+summoned a waiter with a glance, and for a moment concentrated his
+attention on the bill of fare which the man put before him. That slight
+mental exercise restored him; when the waiter had taken his simple order
+and gone away, Barthorpe was fully himself again. And finding himself in
+as satisfactory a state of privacy as he could desire, with none to
+overlook or spy on him, he drew from an inner pocket a letter-case which
+he had taken from Jacob Herapath's private safe at the estate office and
+into which he had cast a hurried glance before leaving Kensington for
+Portman Square.
+
+From this letter-case he now drew a letter, and as he unfolded it he
+muttered a word or two.
+
+"Frank Burchill, 331, Upper Seymour Street," he said. "Um--but not Upper
+Seymour Street any longer, I think. Now let's see what it all is--what
+it all means I've got to find out."
+
+The sheet of paper which he was handling was of the sort used by
+typists, but the letter itself was written by hand, and Barthorpe
+recognized the penmanship as that of his uncle's ex-secretary, Burchill,
+second witness to the will which had just been exhibited to him. Then he
+read, slowly and carefully, what Burchill had written to Jacob
+Herapath--written, evidently, only a few days previously. For there was
+the date, plain enough.
+
+ "35c, Calengrove Mansions,
+ "Maida Vale, W.
+ "_November 11th_, 19--.
+
+ "DEAR SIR,
+
+ "I don't know that I am particularly surprised that you
+ have up to now entirely ignored my letters of the 1st and
+ the 5th instant. You probably think that I am not a
+ person about whom any one need take much trouble; a mean
+ cur, perhaps, who can do no more than snap at a mastiff's
+ heels. I am very well aware (having had the benefit of a
+ year's experience of your character and temperament) that
+ you have very little respect for unmoneyed people and are
+ contemptuous of their ability to interfere with the
+ moneyed. But in that matter you are mistaken. And to put
+ matters plainly, it will pay you far better to keep me a
+ friend than to transform me into an enemy. Therefore I
+ ask you to consider well and deeply the next sentence of
+ this letter--which I will underline.
+
+ "I am in full possession of the secret which you have
+ taken such vast pains to keep for fifteen years.
+
+ "I think you are quite competent to read my meaning, and
+ I now confidently expect to hear that you will take
+ pleasure in obliging me in the way which I indicated to
+ you in my previous letters.
+
+ "Yours faithfully,
+
+ "FRANK BURCHILL."
+
+Barthorpe read this communication three times, pausing over every
+sentence, seeking to read the meanings, the implications, the subtly
+veiled threat. When he folded the square sheet and replaced it in the
+letter-case he half spoke one word:
+
+"Blackmail!"
+
+Then, staring in apparent idleness about the little restaurant, with its
+gilt-framed mirrors, its red, plush-covered seats, its suggestion of
+foreign atmosphere and custom, he idly drummed the tips of his fingers
+on the table, and thought. Naturally, he thought of the writer of the
+letter. Of course, he said to himself, of course he knew Burchill.
+Burchill had been Jacob Herapath's private secretary for rather more
+than a year, and it was now about six months since Jacob had got rid of
+him. He, Barthorpe, remembered very well why Jacob had quietly dismissed
+Burchill. One day Jacob had said to him, with a dry chuckle:
+
+"I'm getting rid of that secretary of mine--it won't do."
+
+"What won't do?" Barthorpe had asked.
+
+"He's beginning to make eyes at Peggie," Jacob had answered with another
+chuckle, "and though Peggie's a girl of sense, that fellow's too good
+looking to have about a house. I never ought to have had him. However--he
+goes."
+
+Barthorpe, as he ate the cutlets and sipped the half-bottle of claret
+which the waiter presently brought him, speculated on these facts and
+memories. He was not very sure about Burchill's antecedents: he believed
+he was a young man of good credentials and high respectability--personally,
+he had always wondered why old Jacob Herapath, a practical business man,
+should have taken as a private secretary a fellow who looked, dressed,
+spoke, and behaved like a play-actor. As it all came within the scope of
+things he mused on Burchill and his personal appearance, calling up the
+ex-secretary's graceful and slender figure, his oval, olive-tinted face,
+his large, dark, lustrous eyes, his dark, curling hair, his somewhat
+affected dress, his tall, wide-brimmed hats, his taper fingers, his
+big, wide-ended cravats. It had once amused Barthorpe--and many other
+people--to see Jacob Herapath and his secretary together; nevertheless,
+Jacob had always spoken of Burchill as being thoroughly capable,
+painstaking, thorough and diligent. His airs and graces Jacob put down as
+a young man's affectations--yet there came the time when they suited Jacob
+no longer.
+
+"I catch him talking too much to Peggie," he had added, in that
+conversation of which Barthorpe was thinking. "Better get rid of him
+before they pass the too-much stage."
+
+So Burchill had gone, and Barthorpe had heard no more of him until now.
+But what he had heard now was a revelation. Burchill had witnessed a
+will of Jacob Herapath's, which, if good and valid and the only will in
+existence, would leave him, Barthorpe, a ruined man. Burchill had
+written a letter to Jacob Herapath asking for some favour, reward,
+compensation, as the price of his silence about a secret. What secret?
+Barthorpe could not even guess at it--but Burchill had said, evidently
+knowing what he was talking about, that Jacob Herapath had taken vast
+pains to keep it for fifteen years.
+
+By the time Barthorpe had finished his lunch he had come to the
+conclusion that there was only one thing for him to do. He must go
+straight to Calengrove Mansions and interview Mr. Frank Burchill. In one
+way or another he must make sure of him, or, rather--though it was
+really the same thing--sure of what he could tell. And on the way there
+he would make sure of something else--in order to do which he presently
+commissioned a taxi-cab and bade its driver go first to 331, Upper
+Seymour Street.
+
+The domestic who answered Barthorpe's double knock at that house shook
+her head when he designedly asked for Mr. Frank Burchill. Nobody of that
+name, she said. But on being assured that there once had been a lodger
+of that name in residence there, she observed that she would fetch her
+mistress, and disappeared to return with an elderly lady who also shook
+her head at sight of the caller.
+
+"Mr. Burchill left here some time ago," she said. "Nearly six months. I
+don't know where he is."
+
+"Did he leave no address to which his letters were to be sent?" asked
+Barthorpe, affecting surprise.
+
+"He said there'd be no letters coming--and there haven't been," answered
+the landlady. "And I've neither seen nor heard of him since he went."
+
+Something in her manner suggested to Barthorpe that she had no desire to
+renew acquaintance with her former lodger. This sent Barthorpe away well
+satisfied. It was precisely what he wanted. The three people whom he had
+left in Portman Square in all probability knew no other address than
+this at which to seek for Burchill when he was wanted; they would seek
+him there eventually and get no news. Luckily for himself, Barthorpe
+knew where he was to be found, and he went straight off up Edgware Road
+to find him.
+
+Calengrove Mansions proved to be a new block of flats in the dip of
+Maida Vale; 35c was a top flat in a wing which up to that stage of its
+existence did not appear to be much sought after by would-be tenants. It
+was some time before Barthorpe succeeded in getting an answer to his
+ring and knock; when at last the door was opened Burchill himself looked
+out upon him, yawning, and in a dressing-gown. And narrowly and
+searchingly as Barthorpe glanced at Burchill he could not see a trace of
+unusual surprise or embarrassment in his face. He looked just as any man
+might look who receives an unexpected caller.
+
+"Oh!" he said. "Mr. Barthorpe Herapath! Come in--do. I'm a bit late--a
+good bit late, in fact. You see, I'm doing dramatic criticism now, and
+there was an important _premiere_ last night at the Hyperion, and I had
+to do a full column, and so--but that doesn't interest you. Come in,
+pray."
+
+He led the way into a small sitting-room, drew forward an easy-chair,
+and reaching down a box of cigarettes from the mantelpiece offered its
+contents to his visitor. Barthorpe, secretly wondering if all this
+unconcerned behaviour was natural or merely a bit of acting, took a
+cigarette and dropped into the chair.
+
+"I don't suppose you thought of seeing me when you opened your door,
+Burchill?" he remarked good-humouredly, as he took the match which his
+host had struck for him. "Last man in the world you thought of seeing,
+eh?"
+
+Burchill calmly lighted a cigarette for himself before he answered.
+
+"Well," he said at last, "I don't know--you never know who's going to
+turn up. But to be candid, I didn't expect to see you, and I don't know
+why you've come."
+
+Barthorpe slowly produced the letter-case from his pocket, took
+Burchill's letter from it, and held it before him.
+
+"That's what brought me here," he said significantly. "That! Of course,
+you recognize it."
+
+Burchill glanced at the letter without turning a hair. If he was merely
+acting, thought Barthorpe, he was doing it splendidly, and instead of
+writing dramatic criticism he ought to put on the sock and buskins
+himself. But somehow he began to believe that Burchill was not acting.
+And he was presently sure of it when Burchill laughed--contemptuously.
+
+"Oh!" said Burchill. "Ah! So Mr. Jacob Herapath employs legal
+assistance--your assistance--in answering me? Foolish--foolish! Or,
+since that is, perhaps, too strong a word--indiscreet. Indiscreet--and
+unnecessary. Say so, pray, to Mr. Jacob Herapath."
+
+Barthorpe remained silent a moment; then he put the letter back in the
+case and gave Burchill a sharp steady look.
+
+"Good gracious, man!" he said quietly. "Are you pretending? Or--haven't
+you heard? Say--that--to Jacob Herapath? Jacob Herapath is dead!"
+
+Burchill certainly started at that. What was more he dropped his
+cigarette, and when he straightened himself from picking it up his face
+was flushed a little.
+
+"Upon my honour!" he exclaimed. "I didn't know. Dead! When? It must have
+been sudden."
+
+"Sudden!" said Barthorpe. "Sudden? He was murdered!"
+
+There was no doubt that this surprised Burchill. At any rate, he showed
+all the genuine signs of surprise. He stood staring at Barthorpe for a
+full minute of silence, and when he spoke his voice had lost something
+of its usual affectation.
+
+"Murdered?" he said. "Murdered! Are you sure of that? You are? Good
+heavens!--no, I've heard nothing. But I've not been out since two
+o'clock this morning, so how could I hear? Murdered----" he broke off
+sharply and stared at his visitor. "And you came to me--why?"
+
+"I came to ask you if you remember witnessing my uncle's will," replied
+Barthorpe promptly. "Give me a plain answer. Do you remember?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+GREEK AGAINST GREEK
+
+
+At this direct question, Burchill, who had been standing on the
+hearthrug since Barthorpe entered the room, turned away and took a seat
+in the corner of a lounge opposite his visitor. He gave Barthorpe a
+peculiarly searching look before he spoke, and as soon as he replied
+Barthorpe knew that here was a man who was not readily to be drawn.
+
+"Oh," said Burchill, "so I am supposed to have witnessed a will made by
+Mr. Jacob Herapath, am I?"
+
+Barthorpe made a gesture of impatience.
+
+"Don't talk rot!" he said testily. "A man either knows that he witnessed
+a will or knows that he didn't witness a will."
+
+"Excuse me," returned Burchill, "I don't agree with that proposition. I
+can imagine it quite possible that a man may think he has witnessed a
+will when he has done nothing of the sort. I can also imagine it just as
+possible that a man may have really witnessed a will when he thought he
+was signing some much less important document. Of course, you're a
+lawyer, and I'm not. But I believe that what I have just said is much
+more in accordance with what we may call the truth of life than what
+you've said."
+
+"If a man sees another man sign a document and witnesses the signature
+together with a third man who had been present throughout, what would
+you say was being done?" asked Barthorpe, sneeringly. "Come, now?"
+
+"I quite apprehend your meaning," replied Burchill. "You put it very
+cleverly."
+
+"Then why don't you answer my question?" demanded Barthorpe.
+
+Burchill laughed softly.
+
+"Why not answer mine?" he said. "However, I'll ask it in another and
+more direct form. Have you seen my signature as witness to a will made
+by Jacob Herapath?"
+
+"Yes," replied Barthorpe.
+
+"Are you sure it was my signature?" asked Burchill.
+
+Barthorpe lifted his eyes and looked searchingly at his questioner. But
+Burchill's face told him nothing. What was more, he was beginning to
+feel that he was not going to get anything out of Burchill that Burchill
+did not want to tell. He remained silent, and again Burchill laughed.
+
+"You see," he said, "I can suppose all sorts of things. I can suppose,
+for example, that there's such a thing as forging a signature--two
+signatures--three signatures to a will--or, indeed, to any other
+document. Don't you think that instead of asking me a direct question
+like this that you'd better wait until this will comes before the--is it
+the Probate Court?--and then let some of the legal gentlemen ask me if
+that--that!--is my signature? I'm only putting it to you, you know. But
+perhaps you'd like to tell me--all about it?" He paused, looking
+carefully at Barthorpe, and as Barthorpe made no immediate answer, he
+went on speaking in a lower, softer tone. "All about it," he repeated
+insinuatingly. "Ah!"
+
+Barthorpe suddenly flung his cigarette in the hearth with a gesture that
+implied decision.
+
+"I will!" he exclaimed. "It may be the shortest way out. Very
+well--listen, then. I tell you my uncle was murdered at his office
+about--well, somewhere between twelve and three o'clock this morning.
+Naturally, after the preliminaries were over, I wanted to find out
+if he'd made a will--naturally, I say."
+
+"Naturally, you would," murmured Burchill.
+
+"I didn't believe he had," continued Barthorpe. "But I examined his safe
+at the office, and I was going to examine that in his study at Portman
+Square when Tertius said in the presence of my cousin, myself, and
+Selwood, your successor, that there was a will, and produced one from a
+secret drawer in an old bureau----"
+
+"A secret drawer in an old bureau!" murmured Burchill. "How deeply
+interesting for all of you!--quite dramatic. Yes?"
+
+"Which, on being inspected," continued Barthorpe, "proved to be a
+holograph----"
+
+"Pardon," interrupted Burchill, "a holograph? Now, I am very ignorant.
+What is a holograph?"
+
+"A holograph will is a will entirely written in the handwriting of the
+person who makes it," replied Barthorpe.
+
+"I see. So this was written out by Mr. Jacob Herapath, and witnessed
+by--whom?" asked Burchill.
+
+"Tertius as first witness, and you as second," answered Barthorpe. "Now
+then, I've told you all about it. What are you going to tell me?
+Come--did you witness this will or not? Good gracious, man!--don't you
+see what a serious thing it is?"
+
+"How can I when I don't know the contents of the will?" asked Burchill.
+"You haven't told me that--yet."
+
+Barthorpe swallowed an exclamation of rage.
+
+"Contents!" he exclaimed. "He left everything--everything!--to my
+cousin! Everything to her."
+
+"And nothing to you," said Burchill, accentuating his habitual drawl.
+"Really, how infernally inconsiderate! Yes--now I see that it is
+serious. But--only for you."
+
+Barthorpe glared angrily at him and began to growl, almost threateningly.
+And Burchill spoke, soothingly and quietly.
+
+"Don't," he said. "It does no good, you know. Serious--yes. Most
+serious--for you, as I said. But remember--only serious for you if the
+will is--good. Eh?"
+
+Barthorpe jumped to his feet and thrust his hands in his pockets. He
+began to pace the room.
+
+"Hang me if I know what you mean, Burchill!" he said. "Is that your
+signature on that will or not?"
+
+"How can I say until I see it?" asked Burchill, with seeming innocence.
+"Let's postpone matters until then. By the by, did Mr. Tertius say that
+it was my signature?"
+
+"What do you mean!" exclaimed Barthorpe. "Why, of course, he said that
+he and you witnessed the will!"
+
+"Ah, to be sure, he would say so," assented Burchill. "Of course.
+Foolish of me to ask. It's quite evident that we must postpone matters
+until this will is--what do you call it?--presented, propounded--what is
+it?--for probate. Let's turn to something else. My letter to your uncle,
+for instance. Of course, as you've got it, you've read it."
+
+Barthorpe sat down again and stared.
+
+"You're a cool customer, Master Burchill!" he said. "By Jove, you are!
+You're playing some game. What is it?"
+
+Burchill smiled deprecatingly.
+
+"What's your own?" he asked. "Or, if that's too pointed a question at
+present, suppose we go back to--my letter? Want to ask me anything about
+it?"
+
+Barthorpe again drew the letter from the case. He affected to re-read
+it, while Burchill narrowly watched him.
+
+"What," asked Barthorpe at last, "what was it that you wanted my uncle
+to oblige you with? A loan?"
+
+"If it's necessary to call it anything," replied Burchill suavely, "you
+can call it a--well, say a donation. That sounds better--it's more
+dignified."
+
+"I don't suppose it matters much what it's called," said Barthorpe
+drily. "I should say, from the tone of your letter, that most people
+would call it----"
+
+"Yes, but not polite people," interrupted Burchill, "and you and I
+are--or must be--polite. So we'll say donation. The fact is, I want to
+start a newspaper--weekly--devoted to the arts. I thought your
+uncle--now, unfortunately, deceased--would finance it. I didn't want
+much, you know."
+
+"How much?" asked Barthorpe. "The amount isn't stated in this letter."
+
+"It was stated in the two previous letters," replied Burchill. "Oh, not
+much. Ten thousand."
+
+"The price of your silence, eh?" suggested Barthorpe.
+
+"Dirt cheap!" answered Burchill.
+
+Barthorpe folded up the letter once more and put it away. He helped
+himself to another cigarette and lighted it before he spoke again. Then
+he leaned forward confidentially.
+
+"What is the secret?" he asked.
+
+Burchill stated and assumed an air of virtuous surprise.
+
+"My dear fellow!" he said. "That's against all the rules--all the rules
+of----"
+
+"Of shady society," sneered Barthorpe. "Confound it, man, what do you
+beat about the bush so much for? Hang it, I've a pretty good notion of
+you, and I daresay you've your own of me. Why can't you tell me?"
+
+"You forget that I offered not to tell for--ten thousand pounds," said
+Burchill. "Therefore I should want quite as much for telling. If you
+carry ten thousand in cash on you----"
+
+"Is there a secret?" asked Barthorpe. "Sober earnest, now?"
+
+"I have no objection to answering that question," replied Burchill.
+"There is!"
+
+"And you want ten thousand pounds for it?" suggested Barthorpe.
+
+"Pardon me--I want a good deal more for it, under the present much
+altered circumstances," said Burchill quietly. "There is an old saying
+that circumstances alter cases. It's true--they do. I would have taken
+ten thousand pounds from your uncle to hold my tongue--true. But--the
+case is altered by his death."
+
+Barthorpe pondered over this definite declaration for a minute or two.
+Then, lowering his voice, he said:
+
+"Looks uncommonly like--blackmail! And that----"
+
+"Pardon me again," interrupted Burchill. "No blackmail at all--in my
+view. I happen to possess information of a certain nature, and----"
+
+Barthorpe interrupted in his turn.
+
+"The thing is," he said, "the only thing is--how long are you and I
+going to beat about the bush? Are you going to tell me if you signed
+that will I told you of?"
+
+"Certainly not before I've seen it," answered Burchill promptly.
+
+"Will you tell me then?"
+
+"That entirely depends."
+
+"On--what?"
+
+"Circumstances!"
+
+"Have the circumstances got anything to do with this secret?"
+
+"Everything! More than anything--now."
+
+"Now--what?"
+
+"Now that Jacob Herapath is dead. Look here!" continued Burchill,
+leaning forward and speaking impressively. "Take my counsel. Leave this
+for the moment and come to see me--now, when? Tonight. Come tonight.
+I've nothing to do. Come at ten o'clock. Then--I'll be in a position to
+say a good deal more. How will that do?"
+
+"That'll do," answered Barthorpe after a moment's consideration.
+"Tonight, here, at ten o 'clock."
+
+He got up and made for the door. Burchill got up too, and for a moment
+both men glanced at each other. Then Burchill spoke.
+
+"I suppose you've no idea who murdered your uncle?" he said.
+
+"Not the slightest!" exclaimed Barthorpe. "Have you?"
+
+"None! Of course--the police are on the go?"
+
+"Oh, of course!"
+
+"All right," said Burchill. "Tonight, then."
+
+He opened the door for his visitor, nodded to him, as he passed out, and
+when he had gone sat down in the easy chair which Barthorpe had vacated
+and for half an hour sat immobile, thinking. At the end of that
+half-hour he rose, went into his bedroom, made an elaborate toilet, went
+out, found a taxi-cab, and drove off to Portman Square.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+MR. BENJAMIN HALFPENNY
+
+
+When Barthorpe Herapath left his cousin, Mr. Tertius, and Selwood in
+company with the newly discovered will, and walked swiftly out of the
+house and away from Portman Square, he passed without seeing it a quiet,
+yet smartly appointed coupe brougham which came round the corner from
+Portman Street and pulled up at the door which Barthorpe had just
+quitted. From it at once descended an elderly gentleman, short, stout,
+and rosy, who bustled up the steps of the Herapath mansion and appeared
+to fume and fret until his summons was responded to. When the door was
+opened to him he bustled inside at the same rate, rapped out the
+inquiry, "Miss Wynne at home?--Miss Wynne at home?" several times
+without waiting for a reply, and never ceased in his advance to the door
+of the study, into which he precipitated himself panting and blowing, as
+if he had run hard all the way from his original starting-point. The
+three people standing on the hearthrug turned sharply and two of them
+uttered cries which betokened pleasure mixed with relief.
+
+"Mr. Halfpenny!" exclaimed Peggie, almost joyfully. "How good of you to
+come!"
+
+"We had only just spoken--were only just speaking of you," remarked Mr.
+Tertius. "In fact--yes, Mr. Selwood and I were thinking of going round
+to your offices to see if you were in town."
+
+The short, stout, and rosy gentleman who, as soon as he had got well
+within the room, began to unswathe his neck from a voluminous white silk
+muffler, now completed his task and advancing upon Peggie solemnly
+kissed her on both cheeks, held her away from him, looked at her, kissed
+her again, and then patted her on the shoulder. This done, he shook
+hands solemnly with Mr. Tertius, bowed to Selwood, took off his
+spectacles and proceeded to polish them with a highly-coloured bandana
+handkerchief which he produced from the tail of his overcoat. This
+operation concluded, he restored the spectacles to his nose, sat down,
+placed his hands, palm downwards, on his plump knees and solemnly
+inspected everybody.
+
+"My dear friends!" he said in a hushed, deep voice. "My dear, good
+friends! This dreadful, awful, most afflicting news! I heard it but
+three-quarters of an hour ago--at the office, to which I happened
+by mere chance, to have come up for the day. I immediately ordered
+out our brougham and drove here--to see if I could be of any use.
+You will command me, my dear friends, in anything that I can do. Not
+professionally, of course. No--in that respect you have Mr. Barthorpe
+Herapath. But--otherwise."
+
+Mr. Tertius looked at Peggie.
+
+"I don't know whether we shan't be glad of Mr. Halfpenny's professional
+services?" he said. "The truth is, Halfpenny, we were talking of seeing
+you professionally when you came in. That's one truth--another is that a
+will has been found--our poor friend's will, of course."
+
+"God bless me!" exclaimed Mr. Halfpenny. "A will--our poor friend's
+will--has been found! But surely, Barthorpe, as nephew, and solicitor--eh?"
+
+Again Mr. Tertius looked at Peggie.
+
+"I suppose we'd better tell Mr. Halfpenny everything," he remarked. "Of
+course, Halfpenny, you'll understand that as soon as this dreadful
+affair was discovered and the first arrangements had been made,
+Barthorpe, as only male relative, began to search for a will. He
+resented any interference from me and was very rude to me, but when he
+came here and proposed to examine that safe, I told him at once that I
+knew of a will and where it was, though I didn't know its terms. And I
+immediately directed him to it, and we found it and read it a few
+minutes ago with the result that Barthorpe at once quitted the
+house--you must have passed him in the square."
+
+"God bless us!" repeated Mr. Halfpenny. "I judge from that, then--but
+you had better show me this document."
+
+Mr. Tertius at once produced the will, and Mr. Halfpenny, rising from
+his chair, marched across the room to one of the windows where he
+solemnly half-chanted every word from start to finish. This performance
+over, he carefully and punctiliously folded the document into its
+original lines, replaced it in its envelope, and grasping this firmly in
+his hand, resumed his seat and motioned everybody to attention.
+
+"My dear Tertius!" he said. "Oblige me by narrating, carefully, briefly,
+your recollection of the circumstances under which your signature to
+this highly important document was obtained and made."
+
+"Easily done," responded Mr. Tertius. "One night, some months ago, when
+our poor friend was at work here with his secretary, a Mr. Frank
+Burchill, he called me into the room, just as Burchill was about to
+leave. He said: 'I want you two to witness my signature to a paper.'
+He----"
+
+"A moment," interrupted Mr. Halfpenny. "He said--'a paper.' Did he not
+say 'my will'?"
+
+"Not before the two of us. He merely said a paper. He produced the
+paper--that paper, which you now hold. He let us see that it was covered
+with writing, but we did not see what the writing was. He folded it
+over, laid it, so folded, on that desk, and signed his name. Then we
+both signed it in the blank spaces which he indicated: I first, then
+Burchill. He then put it into an envelope--that envelope--and fastened
+it up. As regards that part of the proceedings," said Mr. Tertius, "that
+is all."
+
+"There was, then, another part?" suggested Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"Yes," replied Mr. Tertius. "There was. Burchill then left--at once. I,
+too, was leaving the room when Jacob called me back. When we were alone,
+he said: 'That was my will that you've just witnessed. Never mind what's
+in it--I may alter it, or some of it, some day, but I don't think I
+shall. Now look here, I'm going to seal this envelope, and I'll show you
+where I put it when it's sealed.' He then sealed the envelope in two
+places, as you see, and afterwards, in my presence, placed it in a
+secret drawer, which I'll show to you now. And that done, he said:
+'There, Tertius, you needn't mention that to anybody, unless I happen to
+be taken off suddenly.' And," concluded Mr. Tertius, as he motioned Mr.
+Halfpenny to accompany him to the old bureau, "I never, of course, did
+mention it until half an hour ago."
+
+Mr. Halfpenny solemnly inspected the secret drawer, made no remark upon
+it, and reseated himself.
+
+"Now," he said, "this Mr. Frank Burchill--the other witness? He left our
+old friend?"
+
+"Some little time ago," replied Mr. Tertius.
+
+"Still, we have his address on the will," said Mr. Halfpenny. "I shall
+call on Mr. Burchill at once--as soon as I leave here. There is, of
+course, no doubt as to the validity of this will. You said just now that
+Barthorpe left you as soon as he had seen it. Now, what did Barthorpe
+say about it?"
+
+"Nothing!" answered Mr. Tertius. "He went away without a word--rushed
+away, in fact."
+
+Mr. Halfpenny shook his head with profound solemnity.
+
+"I am not in the least surprised to hear that," he observed. "Barthorpe
+naturally received a great shock. What I am surprised at is--the terms
+of the will. Nothing whatever to Barthorpe--his only male relative--his
+only brother's only son. Extraordinary! My dear," he continued, turning
+to Peggie, "can you account for this? Do you know of anything, any
+difference between them, anything at all which would make your uncle
+leave his nephew out of his will?"
+
+"Nothing!" answered Peggie. "And I'm very troubled about it. Does it
+really mean that I get everything, and Barthorpe nothing?"
+
+"That is the precise state of affairs," answered Mr. Halfpenny. "And it
+is all the more surprising when we bear in mind that you two are the
+only relations Jacob Herapath had, and that he was a rich man--a very
+rich man indeed. However, he doubtless had his reasons. And now, as I
+conclude you desire me to act for you, I shall take charge of this will
+and lock it up in my safe as soon as I return to the office. On my way,
+I shall call at Mr. Burchill's address and just have a word with him.
+Tertius, you had better come with me. And--yes, there is another thing
+that I should like to have done. Mr. Selwood--are you engaged on any
+business?"
+
+"No," replied Selwood, who was secretly speculating on the meaning of
+the morning's strange events. "I have nothing to attend to."
+
+"Then will you go to Mr. Barthorpe Herapath's office--in Craven Street,
+I think?--and see him personally and tell him that Mr. Benjamin
+Halfpenny is in town, has been acquainted with these matters by Mr.
+Tertius and Miss Wynne, and would esteem it a favour if he would call
+upon him before five o'clock. Thank you, Mr. Selwood. Now, Tertius, you
+and I will attend to our business."
+
+Left alone, Peggie Wynne suddenly realized that the world had become a
+vastly different world to what it had seemed a few short hours before.
+This room, into which Jacob Herapath, bustling and busy, would never
+come again, was already a place of dread; nay, the whole house in
+which she had spent so many years of comfort and luxury suddenly
+assumed a strange atmosphere of distastefulness. It was true that her
+uncle had never spent much time in the house. An hour or two in the
+morning--yes, but by noon he had hurried off to some Committee at the
+House of Commons, and in session time she had never seen him again
+that day. But he had a trick of running in for a few minutes at
+intervals during the day; he would come for a cup of tea; sometimes he
+would contrive to dine at home; whether he was at home or not, his
+presence, always alert, masterful, active, seemed to be everywhere in
+the place. She could scarcely realize that she would never see him
+again. And as she stood looking at his vacant chair she made an effort
+to realize what it all really meant to her, and suddenly, for the
+first time in her life, she felt the meaning of the usually vague
+term--loneliness. In all practical essentials she was absolutely
+alone. So far as she knew she had no relations in the world but
+Barthorpe Herapath--and there was something--something shadowy and
+undefinable--about Barthorpe which she neither liked nor trusted.
+Moreover, she had caught a glimpse of Barthorpe's face as he turned
+from looking at the will and hurried away, and what she had seen had
+given her a strange feeling of fear and discomfort. Barthorpe, she
+knew, was not the sort of man to be crossed or thwarted or balked of
+his will, and now----
+
+"Supposing Barthorpe should begin to hate me because all the money is
+mine?" she thought. "Then--why, then I should have no one! No one of my
+own flesh and blood, anyway. Of course, there's Mr. Tertius. But--I must
+see Barthorpe. I must tell him that I shall insist on sharing--if it's
+all mine, I can do that. And yet--why didn't Uncle Jacob divide it? Why
+did he leave Barthorpe--nothing?"
+
+Still pondering sadly over these and kindred subjects Peggie went
+upstairs to a parlour of her own, a room in which she did as she liked
+and made into a den after her own taste. There, while the November
+afternoon deepened in shadow, she sat and thought still more deeply. And
+she was still plunged in thought when Kitteridge came softly into the
+room and presented a card. Peggie took it from the butler's salver and
+glanced half carelessly at it. Then she looked at Kitteridge with some
+concern.
+
+"Mr. Burchill?" she said. "Here?"
+
+"No, miss," answered Kitteridge. "Mr. Burchill desired me to present his
+most respectful sympathy, and to say that if he could be of any service
+to you or to the family, he begged that you would command him. His
+address is on this card, miss."
+
+"Very kind of him," murmured Peggie, and laid the card aside on her
+writing-table. When Kitteridge had gone she picked it up and looked at
+it again. Burchill?--she had been thinking of him only a few minutes
+before the butler's entrance; thinking a good deal. And her thoughts had
+been disquieted and unhappy. Burchill was the last man in the world that
+she wished to have anything to do with, and the fact that his name
+appeared on Jacob Herapath's will had disturbed her more than she would
+have cared to admit.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE SHADOW
+
+
+Mr. Halfpenny, conducting Mr. Tertius to the coupe brougham, installed
+him in its further corner, got in himself and bade his coachman drive
+slowly to 331, Upper Seymour Street.
+
+"I said slowly," he remarked as they moved gently away, "because I
+wanted a word with you before we see this young man. Tertius--what's the
+meaning of all this?"
+
+Mr. Tertius groaned dolefully and shook his head.
+
+"There is so much, Halfpenny," he answered, "that I don't quite know
+what you specifically mean by this. Do you mean----"
+
+"I mean, first of all, Herapath's murder," said Mr. Halfpenny. "You
+think it is a case of murder?"
+
+"I'm sure it's a case of murder--cold, calculated murder," replied Mr.
+Tertius, with energy. "Vile murder, Halfpenny."
+
+"And, as far as you know, is there no clue?" asked the old lawyer.
+"There's nothing said or suggested in the newspapers. Haven't you any
+notion--hasn't Barthorpe any notion?"
+
+Mr. Tertius remained silent for a while. The coupe brougham turned into
+Upper Seymour Street.
+
+"I think," he said at last, "yes, I think that when we've made this
+call, I shall ask you to accompany me to my friend Cox-Raythwaite's, in
+Endsleigh Gardens--you know him, I believe. I've already seen him this
+morning and told him--something. When we get there, I'll tell it to you,
+and he shall show you--something. After that, we'll hear what your legal
+instinct suggests. It is my opinion, Halfpenny--I offer it with all
+deference, as a layman--that great, excessive caution is necessary. This
+case is extraordinary--very extraordinary. That is--in my opinion."
+
+"It's an extraordinary thing that Jacob Herapath should have made that
+will," murmured Mr. Halfpenny reflectively. "Why Barthorpe should be
+entirely ignored is--to me--marvellous. And--it may be--significant. You
+never heard of any difference, quarrel, anything of that sort, between
+him and his uncle?"
+
+"I have not the remotest notion as to what the relations were that
+existed between the uncle and the nephew," replied Mr. Tertius. "And
+though, as I have said, I knew that the will was in existence, I hadn't
+the remotest idea, the faintest notion, of its contents until we took it
+out of the sealed envelope an hour or so ago. But----" he paused and
+shook his head meaningly.
+
+"Well?" said Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"I'm very sure, knowing Jacob as I did, that he had a purpose in making
+that will," answered Mr. Tertius. "He was not the man to do anything
+without good reasons. I think we are here."
+
+The landlady of No. 331 opened its door herself to these two visitors.
+Her look of speculative interest on seeing two highly respectable
+elderly gentlemen changed to one of inquisitiveness when she heard what
+they wanted.
+
+"No, sir," she answered. "Mr. Frank Burchill doesn't live here now. And
+it's a queer thing that during the time he did live here and gave me
+more trouble than any lodger I ever had, him keeping such strange hours
+of a night and early morning, he never had nobody to call on him, as I
+recollect of! And now here's been three gentlemen asking for him within
+this last hour--you two and another gentleman. And I don't know where
+Mr. Burchill lives, and don't want, neither!"
+
+"My dear lady!" said Mr. Halfpenny, mildly and suavely. "I am sure we are
+deeply sorry to disturb you--no doubt we have called you away from your
+dinner. Perhaps, er, this"--here there was a slight chink of silver in
+Mr. Halfpenny's hand, presently repeated in one of the landlady's--"will,
+er, compensate you a little? But we are really anxious to see Mr.
+Burchill--haven't you any idea where he's gone to live? Didn't he
+leave an address for any letters that might come here?"
+
+"He didn't, sir--not that he ever had many letters," answered the
+landlady. "And I haven't the remotest notion. Of course, if I had I'd
+give the address. But, as I said to the gentleman what was here not so
+long ago, I've neither seen nor heard of Mr. Burchill since he left--and
+that's six months since."
+
+Mr. Halfpenny contrived to give his companion a nudge of the elbow.
+
+"Is it, indeed, ma'am?" he said. "Ah! That gentleman who called, now?--I
+think he must be a friend of ours, who didn't know we were coming. What
+was he like, now, ma'am?"
+
+"He was a tallish, fine-built gentleman," answered the landlady.
+"Fresh-coloured, clean-shaved gentleman. And for that matter, he can't
+be so far away--it isn't more than a quarter of an hour since he was
+here. I'll ask my girl if she saw which way he went."
+
+"Don't trouble, pray, ma'am, on my account," entreated Mr. Halfpenny.
+"It's of no consequence. We're deeply obliged to you." He swept off his
+hat in an old-fashioned obeisance and drew Mr. Tertius away to the coupe
+brougham. "That was Barthorpe, of course," he said. "He lost no time,
+you see, Tertius, in trying to see Burchill."
+
+"Why should he want to see Burchill?" asked Mr. Tertius.
+
+"Wanted to know what Burchill had to say about signing the will, of
+course," replied Mr. Halfpenny. "Well--what next? Do you want me to see
+Cox-Raythwaite with you?"
+
+Mr. Tertius, who had seemed to be relapsing into a brown study on the
+edge of the pavement, woke up into some show of eagerness. "Yes, yes!"
+he said. "Yes, by all means let us go to Cox-Raythwaite. I'm sure that's
+the thing to do. And there's another man--the chauffeur. But--yes, we'll
+go to Cox-Raythwaite first. Tell your man to drive to the corner of
+Endsleigh Gardens--the corner by St. Pancras Church."
+
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite was exactly where Mr. Tertius had left him in
+the morning, when the two visitors were ushered into his laboratory. And
+for the second time that day he listened in silence to Mr. Tertius's
+story. When it was finished, he looked at Mr. Halfpenny, whose solemn
+countenance had grown more solemn than ever.
+
+"Queer story, isn't it, Halfpenny?" he said laconically. "How does it
+strike you?"
+
+Mr. Halfpenny slowly opened his pursed-up lips.
+
+"Queer?" he exclaimed. "God bless me!--I'm astounded! I--but let me see
+these--these things."
+
+"Sealed 'em up not so long ago--just after lunch," remarked the
+Professor, lifting his heavy bulk out of his chair. "But you can see 'em
+all right through the glass. There you are!" He led the way to a
+side-table and pointed to the hermetically-sealed receptacles in which
+he had safely bestowed the tumbler and the sandwich brought so gingerly
+from Portman Square by Mr. Tertius. "The tumbler," he continued, jerking
+a big thumb at it, "will have, of course, to be carefully examined by an
+expert in finger-prints; the sandwich, so to speak, affords primary
+evidence. You see--what there is to see, Halfpenny?"
+
+Mr. Halfpenny adjusted his spectacles, bent down, and examined the
+exhibits with scrupulous, absorbed interest. Again he pursed up his
+lips, firmly, tightly, as if he would never open them again; when he did
+open them it was to emit a veritable whistle which indicated almost as
+much delight as astonishment. Then he clapped Mr. Tertius on the back.
+
+"A veritable stroke of genius!" he exclaimed. "Tertius, my boy, you
+should have been a Vidocq or a Hawkshaw! How did you come to think of
+it? For I confess that with all my forty years' experience of Law,
+I--well, I don't think I should ever have thought of it!"
+
+"Oh, I don't know," said Mr. Tertius, modestly. "I--well, I looked--and
+then, of course, I saw. That's all!"
+
+Mr. Halfpenny sat down and put his hands on his knees.
+
+"It's a good job you did see, anyway," he said, ruminatively; "an
+uncommonly good job. Well--you're certain of what we may call the
+co-relative factor to what is most obvious in that sandwich?"
+
+"Absolutely certain," replied Mr. Tertius.
+
+"And you're equally certain about the diamond ring?"
+
+"Equally and positively certain!"
+
+"Then," said Mr. Halfpenny, rising with great decision, "there is only
+one thing to be done. You and I, Tertius, must go at once--at once!--to
+New Scotland Yard. In fact, we will drive straight there. I happen
+to know a man who is highly placed in the Criminal Investigation
+Department--we will put our information before him. He will know
+what ought to be done. In my opinion, it is one of those cases which
+will require infinite care, precaution, and, for the time being,
+secrecy--mole's work. Let us go, my dear friend."
+
+"Want me--and these things?" asked the Professor.
+
+"For the time being, no," answered Mr. Halfpenny. "Nor, at present, the
+taxi-cab driver that Tertius has told us of. We'll merely tell what we
+know. But take care of these--these exhibits, as if they were the apples
+of your eyes, Cox-Raythwaite. They--yes, they may hang somebody!"
+
+Half an hour later saw Mr. Halfpenny and Mr. Tertius closeted with a
+gentleman who, in appearance, resembled the popular conception of a
+country squire and was in reality as keen a tracker-down of wrong-doers
+as ever trod the pavement of Parliament Street. And before Mr. Halfpenny
+had said many words he stopped him.
+
+"Wait a moment," he said, touching a bell at his side, "we're already
+acquainted, of course, with the primary facts of this case, and I've
+told off one of our sharpest men to give special attention to it. We'll
+have him in."
+
+The individual who presently entered and who was introduced to the two
+callers as Detective-Inspector Davidge looked neither preternaturally
+wise nor abnormally acute. What he really did remind Mr. Tertius of was
+a gentleman of the better-class commercial traveller persuasion--he was
+comfortable, solid, genial, and smartly if quietly dressed. And he and
+the highly placed gentleman listened to all that the two visitors had
+to tell with quiet and concentrated attention and did not even exchange
+looks with each other. In the end the superior nodded as if something
+satisfied him.
+
+"Very well," he said. "Now the first thing is--silence. You two
+gentlemen will not breathe a word of all this to any one. As you said
+just now, Mr. Halfpenny, the present policy is--secrecy. There will be a
+great deal of publicity during the next few days--the inquest, and so
+on. We shall not be much concerned with it--the public will say that as
+usual we are doing nothing. You may think so, too. But you may count on
+this--we shall be doing a great deal, and within a very short time from
+now we shall never let Mr. Barthorpe Herapath out of our sight until--we
+want him."
+
+"Just so," assented Mr. Halfpenny. He took Mr. Tertius away, and when he
+had once more bestowed him in the coupe brougham, dug him in the ribs.
+"Tertius!" he said, with something like a dry chuckle. "What an
+extraordinary thing it is that people can go about the world unconscious
+that other folks are taking a very close and warm interest in them! Now,
+I'll lay a pound to a penny that Barthorpe hasn't a ghost of a notion
+that he's already under suspicion. My idea of the affair, sir, is that
+he has not the mere phantasm of such a thing. And yet, from now, as our
+friend there observed, Master Barthorpe, sir, will be watched. Shadowed,
+Tertius, shadowed!"
+
+Barthorpe Herapath certainly had none of the notions of which Mr.
+Halfpenny spoke. He spent his afternoon, once having quitted Burchill's
+flat, in a businesslike fashion. He visited the estate office in
+Kensington; he went to see the undertaker who had been charged with the
+funeral arrangements; he called in at the local police-office and saw
+the inspector and the detective who had first been brought into
+connection with the case; he made some arrangements with the Coroner's
+officer about the necessary inevitable inquest. He did all these things
+in the fashion of a man who has nothing to fear, who is unconscious that
+other men are already eyeing him with suspicion. And he was quite
+unaware that when he left his office in Craven Street that evening he
+was followed by a man who quietly attended him to his bachelor rooms in
+the Adelphi, who waited patiently until he emerged from them to dine at
+a neighbouring restaurant, who himself dined at the same place, and who
+eventually tracked him to Maida Vale and watched him enter Calengrove
+Mansions.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+FOR TEN PER CENT
+
+
+Mr. Frank Burchill welcomed his visitor with easy familiarity--this might
+have been a mere dropping-in of one friend to another, for the very
+ordinary purpose of spending a quiet social hour before retiring for the
+night. There was a bright fire on the hearth, a small smoking-jacket on
+Burchill's graceful shoulders and fancy slippers on his feet; decanters
+and glasses were set out on the table in company with cigars and
+cigarettes. And by the side of Burchill's easy chair was a pile of
+newspapers, to which he pointed one of his slim white hands as the two men
+settled themselves to talk.
+
+"I've been reading all the newspapers I could get hold of," he observed.
+"Brought all the latest editions in with me after dinner. There's little
+more known, I think, than when you were here this afternoon."
+
+"There's nothing more known," replied Barthorpe. "That is--as far as I'm
+aware."
+
+Burchill took a sip at his glass and regarded Barthorpe thoughtfully
+over its rim.
+
+"In strict confidence," he said, "have you got any idea whatever on the
+subject?"
+
+"None!" answered Barthorpe. "None whatever! I've no more idea of who it
+was that killed my uncle than I have of the name of the horse that'll
+win the Derby of year after next! That's a fact. There isn't a clue."
+
+"The police are at work, of course," suggested Burchill.
+
+"Of course!" replied Barthorpe, with an unconcealed sneer. "And a lot of
+good they are. Whoever knew the police to find out anything, except by a
+lucky accident?"
+
+"Just so," agreed Burchill. "But then--accidents, lucky or otherwise,
+will happen. You can't think of anybody whose interest it was to get
+your esteemed relative out of the way?"
+
+"Nobody!" said Barthorpe. "There may have been somebody. We want to know
+who the man was who came out of the House with him last night--so far we
+don't know. It'll all take a lot of finding out. In the meantime----"
+
+"In the meantime, you're much more concerned and interested in the will,
+eh?" said Burchill.
+
+"I'm much more concerned--being a believer in present necessities--in
+hearing what you've got to say to me now that you've brought me here,"
+answered Barthorpe, coolly. "What is it?"
+
+"Oh, I've a lot to say," replied Burchill. "Quite a lot. But you'll have
+to let me say it in my own fashion. And to start with, I want to ask you
+a few questions. About your family history, for instance."
+
+"I know next to nothing about my family history," said Barthorpe; "but
+if my knowledge is helpful to what we--or I--want to talk about, fire
+ahead!"
+
+"Good!" responded Burchill. "Now, just tell me what you know about Mr.
+Jacob Herapath, about his brother, your father, and about his sister,
+who was, of course, Miss Wynne's mother. Briefly--concisely."
+
+"Not so much," answered Barthorpe. "My grandfather was a medical
+man--pretty well known, I fancy--at Granchester, in Yorkshire; I, of
+course, never knew or saw him. He had three children. The eldest was
+Jacob, who came to his end last night. Jacob left Granchester for
+London, eventually began speculating in real estate, and became--what he
+was. The second was Richard, my father. He went out to Canada as a lad,
+and did there pretty much what Jacob did here in London----"
+
+"With the same results?" interjected Burchill.
+
+Barthorpe made a wry face.
+
+"Unfortunately, no!" he replied. "He did remarkably well to a certain
+point--then he made some most foolish and risky speculations in American
+railroads, lost pretty nearly everything he'd made, and died a poorish
+man."
+
+"Oh--he's dead, then?" remarked Burchill.
+
+"He's dead--years ago," replied Barthorpe. "He died before I came to
+England. I, of course, was born out there. I----."
+
+"Never mind you just now," interrupted Burchill. "Keep to the earlier
+branches of the family. Your grandfather had one other child?"
+
+"A daughter," assented Barthorpe. "I never saw her, either. However, I
+know that her name was Susan. I also know that she married a man named
+Wynne--my cousin's father, of course. I don't know who he was or
+anything about him."
+
+"Nothing?"
+
+"Nothing--nothing at all: My Uncle Jacob never spoke of him to
+me--except to mention that such a person had once existed. My cousin
+doesn't know anything about him, either. All she knows is that her
+father and mother died when she was about--I think--two years old, and
+that Jacob then took charge of her. When she was six years old, he
+brought her to live with him. That was about the time I myself came to
+England."
+
+"All right," said Burchill. "Now, we'll come to you. Tell about
+yourself. It all matters."
+
+"Well, of course, I don't know what you're getting at," replied
+Barthorpe. "But I'm sure you do. Myself, eh? Well, I was put to the Law
+out there in Canada. When my father died--not over well off--I wrote to
+Uncle Jacob, telling him all about how things were. He suggested that I
+should come over to this country, finish my legal training here, and
+qualify. He also promised--if I suited him--to give me his legal work.
+And, of course, I came."
+
+"Naturally," said Burchill. "And that's--how long ago?"
+
+"Between fifteen and sixteen years," answered Barthorpe.
+
+"Did Jacob Herapath take you into his house?" asked Burchill, continuing
+the examination which Barthorpe was beginning to find irksome as well as
+puzzling. "I'm asking all this for good reasons--it's necessary, if you're
+to understand what I'm going to tell you."
+
+"Oh, as long as you're going to tell me something I don't mind telling you
+anything you like to ask," replied Barthorpe. "That's what I want to be
+getting at. No--he didn't take me into the house. But he gave me a very
+good allowance, paid all my expenses until I got through my remaining
+examinations and stages, and was very decent all around. No--I fixed up in
+the rooms which I've still got--a flat in the Adelphi."
+
+"But you went a good deal to Portman Square?"
+
+"Why, yes, a good deal--once or twice a week, as a rule."
+
+"Had your cousin--Miss Wynne--come there then?"
+
+"Yes, she'd just about come. I remember she had a governess. Of course,
+Peggie was a mere child then--about five or six. Must have been six,
+because she's quite twenty-one now."
+
+"And--Mr. Tertius?"
+
+Burchill spoke the name with a good deal of subtle meaning, and
+Barthorpe suddenly looked at him with a rising comprehension.
+
+"Tertius?" he answered. "No--Tertius hadn't arrived on the scene then.
+He came--soon after."
+
+"How soon after?"
+
+"I should say," replied Barthorpe, after a moment's consideration, "I
+should say--from my best recollection--a few months after I came to
+London. It was certainly within a year of my coming."
+
+"You remember his coming?"
+
+"Not particularly. I remember that he came--at first, I took it, as a
+visitor. Then I found he'd had rooms of his own given him, and that he
+was there as a permanency."
+
+"Settled down--just as he has been ever since?"
+
+"Just! Never any difference that I've known of, all these years."
+
+"Did Jacob ever tell you who he was?"
+
+"Never! I never remember my uncle speaking of him in any particular
+fashion--to me. He was simply--there. Sometimes, you saw him; sometimes,
+you didn't see him. At times, I mean, you'd meet him at dinner--other
+times, you didn't."
+
+Burchill paused for a while; when he asked his next question he seemed
+to adopt a more particular and pressing tone.
+
+"Now--have you the least idea who Tertius is?" he asked.
+
+"Not the slightest!" affirmed Barthorpe. "I never have known who he is.
+I never liked him--I didn't like his sneaky way of going about the
+house--I didn't like anything of him--and he never liked me. I always
+had a feeling--a sort of intuition--that he resented my presence--in
+fact, my existence."
+
+"Very likely," said Burchill, with a dry laugh. "Well--has it ever
+struck you that there was a secret between Tertius and Jacob Herapath?"
+
+Barthorpe started. At last they were coming to something definite.
+
+"Ah!" he exclaimed. "So--that's the secret you mentioned in that
+letter?"
+
+"Never mind," replied Burchill. "Answer my question."
+
+"No, then--it never did strike me."
+
+"Very well," said Burchill. "There is a secret."
+
+"There is?"
+
+"There is! And," whispered Burchill, rising and coming nearer to his
+visitor, "it's a secret that will put you in possession of the whole of
+the Herapath property! And--I know it."
+
+Barthorpe had by this time realized the situation. And he was thinking
+things over at a rapid rate. Burchill had asked Jacob Herapath for ten
+thousand pounds as the price of his silence; therefore----
+
+"And, of course, you want to make something out of your knowledge?" he
+said presently.
+
+"Of course," laughed Burchill. He opened a box of cigars, selected one
+and carefully trimmed the end before lighting it. "Of course!" he
+repeated. "Who wouldn't? Besides, you'll be in a position to afford me
+something when you come into all that."
+
+"The will?" suggested Barthorpe.
+
+Burchill threw the burnt-out match into the fire.
+
+"The will," he said slowly, "will be about as valuable as that--when
+I've fixed things up with you. Valueless!"
+
+"You mean it?" exclaimed Barthorpe incredulously. "Then--your signature?"
+
+"Look here!" said Burchill. "The only thing between us is--terms! Fix
+up terms with me, and I'll tell you the whole truth. And then--you'll
+see!"
+
+"Well--what terms?" demanded Barthorpe, a little suspiciously. "If you
+want money down----"
+
+"You couldn't pay in cash down what I want, nor anything like it," said
+Burchill. "I may want an advance that you can pay--but it will only be
+an advance. What I want is ten per cent. on the total value of Jacob
+Herapath's property."
+
+"Good heavens!" exclaimed Barthorpe. "Why I believe he'll cut up for a
+good million and a half!"
+
+"That's about the figure--as I've reckoned it," assented Burchill. "But
+you'll have a lot left when you've paid me ten per cent."
+
+Barthorpe fidgeted in his chair.
+
+"When did you find out this secret?" he asked.
+
+"Got an idea of it just before I left Jacob, and worked it all out, to
+the last detail, after I left," replied Burchill. "I tell you this for a
+certainty--when I've told you all I know, you'll know for an absolute
+fact, that the Herapath property is--yours!"
+
+"Well!" said Barthorpe. "What do you want me to do?"
+
+Burchill moved across to a desk and produced some papers.
+
+"I want you to sign certain documents," he said, "and then I'll tell you
+the whole story. If the story's no good, the documents are no good.
+How's that?"
+
+"That'll do!" answered Barthorpe. "Let's get to business."
+
+It was one o'clock in the morning when Barthorpe left Calengrove
+Mansions. But the eyes that had seen him enter saw him leave, and the
+shadow followed him through the sleeping town until he, too, sought his
+own place of slumber.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+ADJOURNED
+
+
+Ever since Triffitt had made his lucky scoop in connection with the
+Herapath Mystery he had lived in a state of temporary glory, with strong
+hopes of making it a permanent one. Up to the morning of the event, which
+gave him a whole column of the _Argus_ (big type, extra leaded), Triffitt,
+as a junior reporter, had never accomplished anything notable. As he was
+fond of remarking, he never got a chance. Police-court cases--county-court
+cases--fires--coroners' inquests--street accidents--they were all exciting
+enough, no doubt, to the people actively concerned in them, but you never
+got more than twenty or thirty lines out of their details. However, the
+chance did come that morning, and Triffitt made the most of it, and
+the news editor (a highly exacting and particular person) blessed him
+moderately, and told him, moreover, that he could call the Herapath case
+his own. Thenceforth Triffitt ate, drank, smoked, and slept with the
+case; it was the only thing he ever thought of. But at half-past one on
+the afternoon of the third day after what one may call the actual start
+of the affair, Triffitt sat in a dark corner of a tea-shop in Kensington
+High Street, munching ham sandwiches, sipping coffee, and thinking
+lugubriously, if not despairingly. He had spent two and a half hours in
+the adjacent Coroner's Court, listening to all that was said in evidence
+about the death of Jacob Herapath, and he had heard absolutely nothing
+that was not quite well known to him when the Coroner took his seat,
+inspected his jurymen, and opened the inquiry. Two and a half hours, at
+the end of which the court adjourned for lunch--and the affair was just
+as mysterious as ever, and not a single witness had said a new thing, not
+a single fresh fact had been brought forward out of which a fellow could
+make good, rousing copy!
+
+"Rotten!" mumbled Triffitt into his cup. "Extra rotten! Somebody's keeping
+something back--that's about it!"
+
+Just then another young gentleman came into the alcove in which Triffitt
+sat disconsolate--a pink-cheeked young gentleman, who affected a tweed
+suit of loud checks and a sporting coat, and wore a bit of feather in
+the band of his rakish billycock. Triffitt recognized him as a
+fellow-scribe, one of the youthful bloods of an opposition journal, whom
+he sometimes met on the cricket-field; he also remembered that he had
+caught a glimpse of him in the Coroner's Court, and he hastened to make
+room for him.
+
+"Hullo!" said Triffitt.
+
+"What-ho!" responded the pink young gentleman. He beckoned knowingly to
+a waitress, and looked at her narrowly when she came. "Got such a thing
+as a muffin?" he asked.
+
+"Muffins, sir--yes, sir," replied the waitress, "Fresh muffins."
+
+"Pick me out a nice, plump, newly killed muffin" commanded Triffitt's
+companion. "Leave it in its natural state--that is to say, cold--split
+it in half put between the halves a thick, generous slice of that cold
+ham I see on your counter, and produce it with a pot of fresh--and very
+hot--China tea. That's all."
+
+"Plenty too, I should think!" muttered Triffitt. "Fond of indigestion,
+Carver?"
+
+"I don't think you've ever been in Yorkshire, have you, Triffitt?" asked
+Mr. Carver, settling himself comfortably. "You haven't had that
+pleasure?--well, if you'd ever gone to a football match on a Saturday
+afternoon in a Yorkshire factory district, you'd have seen men selling
+muffin-and-ham sandwiches--fact! And I give you my word that if you want
+something to fill you up during the day, something to tide over the
+weary wait between breakfast and dinner, a fat muffin with a thick slice
+of ham is the best thing I know."
+
+"I don't want anything to fill me up," grunted Triffitt. "I want
+something cheering--at present. I've been listening with all my ears for
+something new in that blessed Herapath case all the morning, and, as you
+know, there's been nothing!"
+
+"Think so?" said Carver. "Um--I should have said there was a good deal,
+now."
+
+"Nothing that I didn't know, anyway," remarked Triffitt. "I got all that
+first thing; I was on the spot first."
+
+"Oh, it was you, was it?" said Carver, with professional indifference.
+"Lucky man! So you've only been hearing----"
+
+"A repetition of what I'd heard before," answered Triffitt. "I knew all
+that evidence before I went into court. Caretaker--police--folks from
+Portman Square--doctor--all the lot! And I guess there'll be nothing
+this afternoon--the thing'll be adjourned."
+
+"Oh, that's of course," assented Carver, attacking his muffin sandwich.
+"There'll be more than one adjournment of this particular inquest,
+Triffitt. But aren't you struck by one or two points?"
+
+"I'm struck by this," replied Triffitt. "If what the police-surgeon
+says--and you noticed how positive he was about it--if what he says is
+true, that old Herapath was shot, and died, at, or just before
+(certainly not after, he positively asserted), twelve o'clock midnight,
+it was not he who went to Portman Square!"
+
+"That, of course, is obvious," said Carver. "And it's just as obvious
+that whoever went to Portman Square returned from Portman Square to that
+office. Eh?"
+
+"That hasn't quite struck me," replied Triffitt. "How is it just as
+obvious?"
+
+"Because whoever went to Portman Square went in old Herapath's
+fur-trimmed coat and his slouch hat, and the fur trimmed coat and slouch
+hat were found in the office," answered Carver. "It's absolutely plain,
+that. I put it like this. The murderer, having settled his man, put on
+his victim's coat and hat, took his keys, went to Portman Square, did
+something there, went back to the office, left the coat and hat, and
+hooked it. That, my son, is a dead certainty. There's been little--if
+anything--made of all that before the Coroner, and it's my impression,
+Triffitt, that somebody--somebody official, mind you--is keeping
+something back. Now," continued Carver, dropping his voice to a
+confidential whisper, "I'm only doing a plain report of this affair for
+our organ of light and leading, but I've read it up pretty well, and
+there are two things I want to know, and I'll tell you what, Triffitt,
+if you like to go in with me at finding them out--two can always work
+better than one--I'm game!"
+
+"What are the two things?" asked Triffitt, cautiously. "Perhaps I've got
+'em in mind also."
+
+"The first's this," replied Carver. "Somebody--some taxi-cab driver or
+somebody of that sort--must have brought the man who personated old
+Jacob Herapath back to, or to the neighbourhood of, the office that
+morning. How is it that somebody hasn't been discovered? You made a
+point of asking for him in the _Argus_. Do you know what I think? I
+think he has been discovered, and he's being kept out of the way. That's
+point one."
+
+"Good!" muttered Triffitt. "And point two?"
+
+"Point two is--where is the man who came out of the House of Commons
+with Jacob Herapath that night, the man that the coachman Mountain
+described? In my opinion," asserted Carver, "I believe that man's been
+found, too, and he's being kept back."
+
+"Good again!" said Triffitt. "It's likely. Well, I've a point. You
+heard the evidence about old Herapath's keys? Yes--well, where's the key
+of that safe that he rented at the Safe Deposit place. That young
+secretary, Selwood, swore that it was on the little bunch the day of the
+murder, that he saw it at three o'clock in the afternoon. What did Jacob
+Herapath do with it between then and the time of the murder?"
+
+"Yes--that's a great point," asserted Carver. "We may hear something of
+that this afternoon--perhaps of all these points."
+
+But when they went back to the densely crowded court it was only to find
+that they--and an expectant public--were going to hear nothing more for
+that time. As soon as the court re-assembled, there was some putting
+together of heads on the part of the legal gentlemen and the Coroner;
+there were whisperings and consultations and noddings and veiled hints,
+palpable enough to everybody with half an eye; then the Coroner
+announced that no further evidence would be taken that day, and
+adjourned the inquest for a fortnight. Such of the public as had
+contrived to squeeze into the court went out murmuring, and Triffitt and
+Carver went out too and exchanged meaning glances.
+
+"Just what I expected!" said Carver. "I reckon the police are at the
+bottom of all that. A fortnight today we'll be hearing something
+good--something sensational."
+
+"I don't want to wait until a fortnight today," growled Triffitt. "I
+want some good, hot stuff--now!"
+
+"Then you'll have to find it for yourself, very soon," remarked Carver.
+"Take my tip--you'll get nothing from the police."
+
+Triffitt was well aware of that. He had talked to two or three police
+officials and detectives that morning, and had found them singularly
+elusive and uncommunicative. One of them was the police-inspector who
+had been called to the Herapath Estate Office on the discovery of the
+murder; another was the detective who had accompanied him. Since the
+murder Triffitt had kept in touch with these two, and had found them
+affable and ready to talk; now, however, they had suddenly curled up
+into a dry taciturnity, and there was nothing to be got out of them.
+
+"Tell you what it is," he said suddenly. "We'll have to go for the
+police!"
+
+"How go for the police?" asked Carver doubtfully.
+
+"Throw out some careful hints that the police know more than they'll
+tell at present," answered Triffitt, importantly. "That's what I shall
+do, anyhow--I've got _carte blanche_ on our rag, and I'll make the
+public ear itch and twitch by breakfast-time tomorrow morning! And after
+that, my boy, you and I'll put our heads together, as you suggest, and
+see if we can't do a bit of detective work of our own. See you tomorrow
+at the usual in Fleet Street."
+
+Then Triffitt went along to the _Argus_ office, and spent the rest of
+the afternoon in writing up a breezy and brilliant column about the
+scene at the inquest, intended to preface the ordinary detailed report.
+He wound it up with an artfully concocted paragraph in which he threw
+out many thinly veiled hints and innuendoes to the effect that the
+police were in possession of strange and sensational information and
+that ere long such a dramatic turn would be given to this Herapath
+Mystery that the whole town would seethe with excitement. He preened his
+feathers gaily over this accomplishment, and woke earlier than usual
+next morning on purpose to go out before breakfast and buy the _Argus_.
+But when he opened that enterprising journal he found that his column
+had been woefully cut down, and that the paragraph over which he had so
+exercised his brains was omitted altogether. Triffitt had small appetite
+for breakfast that morning, and he went early to the office and made
+haste to put himself in the way of the news editor, who grinned at sight
+of him.
+
+"Look here, Master Triffitt," said the news editor, "there's such a
+thing as being too smart--and too previous. I was a bit doubtful about
+your prognostications last night, and I rang up the C.I.D. about 'em.
+Don't do it again, my son!--you mean well, but the police know their job
+better than you do. If they want to keep quiet for a while in this
+matter, they've good reasons for it. So--no more hints. See?"
+
+"So they do know something?" muttered Triffitt sourly. "Then I was
+right, after all!"
+
+"You'll be wrong, after all, if you stick your nose where it isn't
+wanted," said the news editor. "Just chuck the inspired prophet game for a
+while, will you? Keep to mere facts; you'll be alarming the wrong people,
+if you don't. Off you go now! and do old Herapath's funeral--it's at noon,
+at Kensal Green. There'll be some of his fellow M.P.'s there, and so on.
+Get their names--make a nice, respectable thing of it on conventional
+lines. And no fireworks! This thing's to lie low at present."
+
+Triffitt went off to Kensal Green, scowling and cogitating. Of course
+the police knew something! But--what? What they knew would doubtless
+come out in time, but Triffitt had a strong desire to be beforehand with
+them. In spite of the douche of cold water which the news editor had
+just administered, Triffitt knew his _Argus_. If he could fathom the
+Herapath Mystery in such a fashion as to make a real great, smashing,
+all-absorbing feature of a sensational discovery, the _Argus_ would
+throw police precaution and official entreaties to the first wind that
+swept down Fleet Street. No!--he, Triffitt, was not to be balked. He
+would do his duty--he would go and see Jacob Herapath buried, but he
+would also continue his attempt to find out how it was that that burial
+came to be. And as he turned into the cemetery and stared at its weird
+collection of Christian and pagan monuments he breathed a fervent prayer
+to the Goddesses of Chance and Fortune to give him what he called
+"another look-in."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+THE SCOTTISH VERDICT
+
+
+If Triffitt had only known it, the Goddesses of Chance and Fortune were
+already close at hand, hovering lovingly and benignly above the crown of
+his own Trilby hat. Triffitt, of course, did not see them, nor dream
+that they were near; he was too busily occupied in taking stock of the
+black-garmented men who paid the last tribute of respect (a conventional
+phrase which he felt obliged to use) to Jacob Herapath. These men were
+many in number; some of them were known to Triffitt, some were not. He
+knew Mr. Fox-Crawford, an Under-Secretary of State, who represented the
+Government; he knew Mr. Dayweather and Mr. Encilmore, and Mr. Camford
+and Mr. Wallburn; they were all well-known members of Parliament. Also,
+he knew Mr. Barthorpe Herapath, walking at the head of the procession of
+mourners. Very soon he had quite a lengthy list of names; some others,
+if necessary, he could get from Selwood, whom he recognized as the
+cortege passed him by. So for the time being he closed his note-book and
+drew back beneath the shade of a cypress-tree, respectfully watching. In
+the tail-end of the procession he knew nobody; it was made up, he
+guessed, of Jacob Herapath's numerous clerks from the estate offices,
+and----
+
+But suddenly Triffitt saw a face in that procession. The owner of that
+face was not looking at Triffitt; he was staring quietly ahead, with the
+blank, grave demeanour which people affect when they go to funerals. And
+it was as well that he was not looking at Triffitt, for Triffitt, seeing
+that face, literally started and even jumped a little, feeling as if the
+earth beneath him suddenly quaked.
+
+"Gad!" exclaimed Triffitt under his breath. "It is! It can't be! Gad,
+but I'm certain it is! Can't be mistaken--not likely I should ever
+forget him!"
+
+Then he took off the Trilby hat, which he had resumed after the coffin
+had passed, and he rubbed his head as men do when they are exceedingly
+bewildered or puzzled. After which he unobtrusively followed the
+procession, hovered about its fringes around the grave until the last
+rites were over, and eventually edged himself up to Selwood as the
+gathering was dispersing. He quietly touched Selwood's sleeve.
+
+"Mr. Selwood!" he whispered. "Just a word. I know a lot of these
+gentlemen--the M.P.'s and so on--but there are some I don't know. Will
+you oblige me, now?--I want to get a full list. Who are the two elderly
+gentlemen with Mr. Barthorpe Herapath--relatives, eh?"
+
+"No--old personal friends," answered Selwood, good-naturedly turning
+aside with the little reporter. "One is Mr. Tertius--Mr. J. C.
+Tertius--a very old friend of the late Mr. Herapath's; the other is Mr.
+Benjamin Halfpenny, the solicitor, also an old friend."
+
+"Oh, I know of his firm," said Triffitt, busily scribbling. "Halfpenny
+and Farthing, of course--odd combination, isn't it? And that burly
+gentleman behind them, now--who's he?"
+
+"That's Professor Cox-Raythwaite, the famous scientist," answered
+Selwood. "He's also an old friend. The gentleman he's speaking to is Sir
+Cornelius Debenham, chairman of the World Alliance Association, with
+which Mr. Herapath was connected, you know."
+
+"I know--I know," answered Triffitt, still busy. "Those two behind him,
+now--middle-aged parties?"
+
+"One's Mr. Frankton, the manager, and the other's Mr. Charlwood, the
+cashier, at the estate office," replied Selwood.
+
+"They'll go down in staff and employees," said Triffitt. "Um--I've got a
+good list. By the by, who's the gentleman across there--just going up to
+the grave--the gentleman who looks like an actor? Is he an actor?"
+
+"That? Oh!" answered Selwood. "No--that's Mr. Frank Burchill, who used
+to be Mr. Herapath's secretary--my predecessor."
+
+"Oh!" responded Triffitt. He had caught sight of Carver a few yards off,
+and he hurried his notebook into his pocket, and bustled off. "Much
+obliged to you, Mr. Selwood," he said with a grin. "Even we with all our
+experience, don't know everybody, you know--many thanks." He hastened
+over to Carver who was also busy pencilling, and drew him away into the
+shelter of a particularly large and ugly monument. "I say!" he
+whispered. "Here's something! Shove that book away now--I've got all the
+names--and attend to me a minute. Don't look too obtrusively--but do you
+see that chap--looks like an actor--who is just coming away from the
+graveside--tall, well-dressed chap?"
+
+Carver looked across. His face lighted up.
+
+"I know that man," he said. "I've seen him at the club--he's been in
+once or twice, though he's not a member. He does theatre stuff for the
+_Magnet_. His name's Burchill."
+
+Triffitt dropped his friend's arm.
+
+"Oh!" he said. "So you know him--by sight, anyhow? And his name's
+Burchill, eh? Very good. Let's get."
+
+He walked Carver out of the cemetery, down the Harrow Road, and turned
+into the saloon bar of the first tavern that presented itself.
+
+"I'm going to have some ale and some bread and cheese," he observed, "and
+if you'll follow suit, Carver, we'll sit in that corner, and I'll tell
+you something that'll make your hair curl. Two nice plates of bread and
+cheese, and two large tankards of your best bitter ale, if you please,"
+he continued, approaching the bar and ringing a half-crown on it. "Yes,
+Carver, my son--that will curl your hair for you. And," he went on, when
+they had carried their simple provender over to a quiet corner, "about
+that chap now known as Burchill--Burchill. Mr.--Frank--Burchill; late
+secretary to the respected gentleman whose mortal remains have just been
+laid to rest. Ah!"
+
+"What's the mystery?" asked Carver, setting down his tankard. "Seems to be
+one, anyway. What about Burchill?"
+
+"Speak his name softly," answered Triffitt. "Well, my son, I suddenly
+saw--him--this morning, and I just as suddenly remembered that I'd seen
+him before!"
+
+"You had, eh?" said Carver. "Where?"
+
+Triffitt sank his voice to a still lower whisper.
+
+"Where?" he said. "Where? In the dock!"
+
+Carver arrested the progress of a lump of bread and cheese and turned in
+astonishment.
+
+"In the dock?" he exclaimed. "That chap? Good heavens! When--where?"
+
+"It's a longish story," answered Triffitt. "But you've got to hear it if
+we're going into this thing--as we are. Know, then, that I have an
+aunt--Eliza. My aunt--maternal aunt--Eliza is married to a highly
+respectable Scotsman named Kierley, who runs a flour-mill in the ancient
+town of Jedburgh, which is in the county of Roxburgh, just over the
+Border. And it's just about nine years (I can tell the exact date to a
+day if I look at an old diary) that Mr. and Mrs. Kierley were good
+enough to invite me to spend a few weeks in Bonnie Scotland. And the
+first night of my arrival Kierley told me that I was in luck, for
+within a day or two there was going to be a grand trial before the
+Lords Justiciar--Anglice, judges. A trial of a man for murder!"
+
+"Great Scott!" said Carver. "Murder, eh? And"--he nodded his head in the
+direction of the adjacent cemetery. "Him?"
+
+"Let me explain a few legal matters," said Triffitt, disregarding the
+question. "Then you'll get the proper hang of things. In Scotland, law's
+different in procedure to ours. The High Court of Justiciary is fixed
+permanently at Edinburgh, but its judges go on circuit so many times a
+year to some of the principal towns, where they hold something like our
+own assizes. Usually, only one judge sits, but in cases of special
+importance there are two, and two came to Jedburgh, this being a case of
+very special importance, and one that was arousing a mighty amount of
+interest. It was locally known as the Kelpies' Glen Case, and by that
+name it got into all the papers--we could find it, of course, in our own
+files."
+
+"I'll turn it up," observed Carver.
+
+"By all means," agreed Triffitt; "but I'll give you an outline of it
+just now. Briefly, it was this. About eleven years ago, there was near
+the town of Jedburgh a man named Ferguson, who kept an old-established
+school for boys. He was an oldish chap, married to a woman a good deal
+younger than himself, and she had a bit of a reputation for being
+overfond of the wine of the country. According to what the Kierleys told
+me, old Ferguson used to use the tawse on her sometimes, and they led a
+sort of cat-and-dog life. Well, about the time I'm talking about,
+Ferguson got a new undermaster; he only kept one. This chap was an
+Englishman--name of Bentham--Francis Bentham, to give him his full
+patronymic, but I don't know where he came from--I don't think anybody
+did."
+
+"F. B., eh?" muttered Carver. "Same initials as----"
+
+"Precisely," said Triffitt, "and--to anticipate--same man. But to
+proceed in due order. Old Ferguson died rather suddenly--but in quite an
+above-board and natural fashion, about six months after this Bentham
+came to him. The widow kept on the school, and retained Bentham's
+services. And within half a year of the demise of her first husband, she
+took Bentham for her second."
+
+"Quick work!" remarked Carver.
+
+"And productive of much wagging of tongues, you may bet!" said Triffitt.
+"Many things were said--not all of them charitable. Well, this marriage
+didn't mend the lady's manners. She still continued, now and then, to
+take her drops in too generous measure. Rumour had it that the successor
+to Ferguson followed his predecessor's example and corrected his wife in
+the good, old-fashioned way. It was said that the old cat-and-dog life
+was started again by these two. However, before they'd been married a
+year, the lady ended that episode by quitting life for good. She was
+found one night lying at the foot of the cliff in the Kelpies'
+Glen--with a broken neck."
+
+"Ah!" said Carver. "I begin to see."
+
+"Now, that Kelpies' Glen," continued Triffitt, "was a sort of ravine
+which lay between the town of Jedburgh and the school. It was traversed
+by a rough path which lay along the top of one side of it, amongst trees
+and crags. At one point, this path was on the very edge of a precipitous
+cliff; from that edge there was a sheer drop of some seventy or eighty
+feet to a bed of rocks down below, on the edge of a brawling stream. It
+was on these rocks that Mrs. Bentham's body was found. She was dead
+enough when she was discovered, and the theory was that she had come
+along the path above in a drunken condition, had fallen over the low
+railings which fenced it in, and so had come to her death."
+
+"Precisely," assented Carver, nodding his head with wise appreciation.
+"Her alcoholic tendencies were certainly useful factors in the case."
+
+"Just so--you take my meaning," agreed Triffitt. "Well, at first nobody
+saw any reason to doubt this theory, for the lady had been seen
+staggering along that path more than once. But she had a brother, a
+canny Scot who was not over well pleased when he found that his
+sister--who had come into everything that old Ferguson left, which was a
+comfortable bit--had made a will not very long before her death in which
+she left absolutely everything to her new husband, Francis Bentham. The
+brother began to inquire and to investigate--and to cut the story short,
+within a fortnight of his wife's death, Bentham was arrested and charged
+with her murder."
+
+"On what evidence?" asked Carver.
+
+"Precious little!" answered Triffitt. "Indeed next to none. Still,
+there was some. It was proved that he was absent from the house for half
+an hour or so about the time that she would be coming along that path;
+it was also proved that certain footprints in the clay of the path were
+his. He contended that he had been to look for her; he proved that he
+had often been to look for her in that way; moreover, as to the
+footprints, he, like everybody in the house, constantly used that path
+in going to the town."
+
+"Aye, to be sure," said Carver. "He'd a good case, I'm thinking."
+
+"He had--and so I thought at the time," continued Triffitt. "And so a
+good many folks thought--and they, and I, also thought something else, I
+can tell you. I know what the verdict of the crowded court would have
+been!"
+
+"What?" asked Carver.
+
+"Guilty!" exclaimed Triffitt. "And so far as I'm concerned, I haven't a
+doubt that the fellow pushed her over the cliff. But opinion's neither
+here nor there. The only thing that mattered, my son, was the jury's
+verdict!"
+
+"And the jury's verdict was--what?" demanded Carver.
+
+Triffitt winked into his empty tankard and set it down with a bang.
+
+"The jury's verdict, my boy," he answered, "was one that you can only
+get across the Border. It was '_Not Proven_'!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+YOUNG BRAINS
+
+
+Carver, who had been listening intently to the memory of a bygone event,
+pushed away the remains of his frugal lunch, and shook his head as he
+drew out a cigarette-case.
+
+"By gad, Triff, old man!" he said. "If I'd been that chap I'd rather
+have been hanged, I think. Not proven, eh?--whew! That meant----"
+
+"Pretty much what the folk in court and the mob outside thought,"
+asserted Triffitt. "That scene outside, after the trial, is one of my
+liveliest recollections. There was a big crowd there--chiefly women.
+When they heard the verdict there was such yelling and hooting as you
+never heard in your life! You see, they were all certain about the
+fellow's guilt, and they wanted him to swing. If they could have got at
+him, they'd have lynched him. And do you know, he actually had the cheek
+to leave the court by the front entrance, and show himself to that
+crowd! Then there was a lively scene--stones and brickbats and the mud
+of the street began flying. Then the police waded in--and they gave Mr.
+Francis Bentham pretty clearly to understand that there must be no going
+home for him, or the folks would pull his roof over his head. And they
+forced him back into the court, and got him away out of the town on the
+quiet--and I reckon he's never shown his face in that quarter of the
+globe since."
+
+"That will?" asked Carver. "Did it stand good--did he get the woman's
+money?"
+
+"He did. My aunt told me afterwards that he employed some local
+solicitor chap--writers, as they call 'em there--to wind everything up,
+convert everything into cash, for him. Oh, yes!" concluded Triffitt. "He
+got the estate, right enough. Not an awful lot, you know--a thousand or
+two--perhaps three--but enough to go adventuring with elsewhere."
+
+"You're sure this is the man?" asked Carver.
+
+"As certain as that I'm myself!" answered Triffitt. "Couldn't mistake
+him--even if it is nine years ago. It's true I was only a nipper
+then--sixteen or so--but I'd all my wits about me, and I was so taken
+with him in the dock, and with his theatrical bearing there--he's a fine
+hand at posing--that I couldn't forget or mistake him. Oh, he's the man!
+I've often wondered what had become of him."
+
+"And now you find out that he's up till recently been secretary to Jacob
+Herapath, M.P., and is just now doing dramatic criticism for the
+_Magnet_," observed Carver. "Well, Triffitt, what do you make of it?"
+
+Triffitt, who had filled and lighted an old briarwood pipe, puffed
+solemnly and thoughtfully for a while.
+
+"Well," he said, "nobody can deny that there's a deep mystery about
+Jacob Herapath's death. And knowing what I do about this Bentham or
+Burchill, and that he's recently been secretary to Jacob Herapath, I'd
+just like to know a lot more. And--I mean to!"
+
+"Got any plan of campaign?" asked Carver.
+
+"I have!" affirmed Triffitt with sublime confidence. "And it's this--I'm
+going to dog this thing out until I can go to our boss and tell him that
+I can force the hands of the police! For the police are keeping
+something dark, my son, and I mean to find out what it is. I got a
+quencher this morning from our news editor, but it'll be the last. When
+I go back to the office to write out this stuff, I'm going to have that
+extremely rare thing with any of our lot--an interview with the old
+man."
+
+"Gad!--I thought your old man was unapproachable!" exclaimed Carver.
+
+"To all intents and purposes, he is," assented Triffitt. "But I'll see
+him--and today. And after that--but you'll see. Now, as to you, old man.
+You're coming in with me at this, of course--not on behalf of your
+paper, but on your own. Work up with me, and if we're successful, I'll
+promise you a post on the _Argus_ that'll be worth three times what
+you're getting now. I know what I'm talking about--unapproachable as our
+guv'nor is, I've sized him up, and if I make good in this affair, he'll
+do anything I want. Stick to Triffitt, my son, and Triffitt'll see you
+all serene!"
+
+"Right-oh!" said Carver. "I'm on. Well, and what am I to do, first?"
+
+"Two things," responded Triffitt. "One of 'em's easy, and can be done
+at once. Get me--diplomatically--this man Burchill's, or Bentham's,
+present address. You know some _Magnet_ chaps--get it out of them. Tell
+'em you want to ask Burchill's advice about some dramatic stuff--say
+you've written a play and you're so impressed by his criticisms that
+you'd like to take his counsel."
+
+"I can do that," replied Carver. "As a matter of fact, I've got a real
+good farce in my desk. And the next?"
+
+"The next is--try to find out if there's any taxi-cab driver around the
+Portman Square district who took a fare resembling old Herapath from
+anywhere about there to Kensington on the night of the murder," said
+Triffitt. "There must be some chap who drove that man, and if we've got
+any brains about us we can find him. If we find him, and can get him to
+talk--well, we shall know something."
+
+"It'll mean money," observed Carver.
+
+"Never mind," said Triffitt, confident as ever. "If it comes off all
+right with our boss, you needn't bother about money, my son! Now let's
+be going Fleet Street way, and I'll meet you tonight at the usual--say
+six o'clock."
+
+Arrived at the _Argus_ office and duly seated at his own particular
+table, Triffitt, instead of proceeding to write out his report of the
+funeral ceremony of the late Jacob Herapath, M.P., wrote a note to his
+proprietor, which note he carefully sealed and marked "Private." He
+carried this off to the great man's confidential secretary, who stared
+at it and him.
+
+"I suppose this really is of a private nature?" he asked suspiciously.
+"You know as well as I do that Mr. Markledew'll make me suffer if it
+isn't."
+
+"Soul and honour, it's of the most private!" affirmed Triffitt, laying a
+hand on his heart. "And of the highest importance, too, and I'll be
+eternally grateful if you'll put it before him as soon as you can."
+
+The confidential secretary took another look at Triffitt, and allowed
+himself to be reluctantly convinced of his earnestness.
+
+"All right!" he said. "I'll shove it under his nose when he comes in at
+four o'clock."
+
+Triffitt went back to his work, excited, yet elated. It was no easy job to
+get speech of Markledew. Markledew, as everybody in Fleet Street knew, was
+a man in ten thousand. He was not only sole proprietor of his paper, but
+its editor and manager, and he ruled his office and his employees with a
+rod of iron--chiefly by silence. It was usually said of him that he never
+spoke to anybody unless he was absolutely obliged to do so--certain it was
+that all his orders to the various heads were given out pretty much after
+the fashion of a drill sergeant's commands to a squad of well-trained,
+five-month recruits, and that monosyllables were much more in his mouth
+than even brief admonitions and explanations. If anybody ever did manage
+to approach Markledew, it was always with fear and trembling. A big,
+heavy, lumbering man, with a face that might have been carved out of
+granite, eyes that bored through an opposing brain, and a constant
+expression of absolute, yet watchful immobility, he was a trying person to
+tackle, and most men, when they did tackle him, felt as if they might be
+talking to the Sphinx and wondered if the tightly-locked lips were ever
+going to open. But all men who ever had anything to do with Markledew were
+well aware that, difficult as he was of access, you had only got to
+approach him with something good to be rewarded for your pains in full
+measure.
+
+At ten minutes past four Triffitt, who had just finished his work, lifted
+his head to see a messenger-boy fling open the door of the reporter's room
+and cast his eyes round. A shiver shot through Triffitt's spine and went
+out of his toes with a final sting.
+
+"Mr. Markledew wants Mr. Triffitt!"
+
+Two or three other junior reporters who were scribbling in the room
+glanced at Triffitt as he leapt to obey the summons. They hastened to
+make kindly comments on this unheard-of episode in the day's dull
+routine.
+
+"Pale as a fair young bride!" sighed one. "Buck up, Triff!--he won't eat
+you."
+
+"I hear your knees knocking together, Triff," said another. "Brace
+yourself!"
+
+"Markledew," observed a third, "has decided to lay down the sceptre and
+to instal Triff in the chair of rule. Ave, Triffitt, Imperator!--be
+merciful to the rest of us."
+
+Triffitt consigned them to the nether regions and hurried to the
+presence. The presence was busied with its secretary and kept Triffitt
+standing for two minutes, during which space he recovered his breath.
+Then the presence waved away secretary and papers with one hand, turned
+its awful eyes upon him, and rapped out one word:
+
+"Now!"
+
+Triffitt breathed a fervent prayer to all his gods, summoned his
+resolution and his powers, and spoke. He endeavoured to use as few words
+as possible, to be lucid, to make his points, to show what he was
+after--and, driving fear away from him, he kept his own eyes steadily
+fixed on those penetrating organs which confronted him. And once, twice,
+he saw or thought he saw a light gleam of appreciation in those organs;
+once, he believed, the big head nodded as if in agreement. Anyhow, at
+the end of a quarter of an hour (unheard-of length for an interview with
+Markledew!) Triffitt had neither been turned out nor summarily silenced;
+instead, he had come to what he felt to be a good ending of his pleas
+and his arguments, and the great man was showing signs of speech.
+
+"Now, attend!" said Markledew, impressively. "You'll go on with this.
+You'll follow it up on the lines you suggest. But you'll print nothing
+except under my personal supervision. Make certain of your facts.
+Facts!--understand! Wait."
+
+He pulled a couple of slips of paper towards him, scribbled a line or
+two on each, handed them to Triffitt, and nodded at the door.
+
+"That'll do," he said. "When you want me, let me know. And mind--you've
+got a fine chance, young man."
+
+Triffitt could have fallen on the carpet and kissed Markledew's large
+boots. But knowing Markledew, he expressed his gratitude in two words
+and a bow, and sped out of the room. Once outside, he hastened to send
+the all-powerful notes. They were short and sharp, like Markledew's
+manner, but to Triffitt of an inexpressible sweetness, and he walked on
+air as he went off to other regions to present them.
+
+The news editor, who was by nature irascible and whom much daily worry
+had rendered more so, glared angrily as Triffitt marched up to his
+table. He pointed to a slip of proof which lay, damp and sticky, close
+by.
+
+"You've given too much space to that Herapath funeral," he growled.
+"Take it away and cut it down to three-quarters."
+
+Triffitt made no verbal answer. He flung Markledew's half-sheet of
+notepaper before the news editor, and the news editor, seeing the great
+man's sprawling caligraphy, read, wonderingly:--
+
+ "Mr. Triffitt is released from ordinary duties to
+ pursue others under my personal supervision.
+ J. M."
+
+The news editor stared at Triffitt as if that young gentleman had
+suddenly become an archangel.
+
+"What's this mean?" he demanded.
+
+"Obvious--and sufficient," retorted Triffitt. And he turned, hands in
+pockets, and strolled out, leaving the proof lying unheeded. That was
+the first time he had scored off his news editor, and the experience was
+honey-like and intoxicating. His head was higher than ever as he sought
+the cashier and handed Markledew's other note to him. The cashier read
+it over mechanically.
+
+ "Mr. Triffitt is to draw what money he needs for a
+ special purpose. He will account to me for it.
+ J. M."
+
+The cashier calmly laid the order aside and looked at its deliverer.
+
+"Want any now?" he asked apathetically. "How much?"
+
+"Not at present," replied Triffitt. "I'll let you know when I do."
+
+Then he went away, got his overcoat, made a derisive and sphinx-like
+grin at his fellow-reporters, and left the office to find Carver.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+NAMELESS FEAR
+
+
+If Triffitt had stayed in Kensal Green Cemetery a little longer, he
+would have observed that Mr. Frank Burchill's presence at the funeral
+obsequies of the late Jacob Herapath was of an eminently modest,
+unassuming, and retiring character. He might, as an ex-secretary of the
+dead man, have claimed to walk abreast of Mr. Selwood, and ahead of the
+manager and cashier from the estate office; instead, he had taken a
+place in the rear ranks of the procession, and in it he remained until
+the close of the ceremony. Like the rest of those present, he defiled
+past the grave at which the chief mourners were standing, but he claimed
+no recognition from and gave no apparent heed to any of them; certainly
+none to Barthorpe Herapath. Also, like all the rest, he went away at
+once from the cemetery, and after him, quietly and unobtrusively, went a
+certain sharp-eyed person who had also been present, not as a mourner,
+but in the character of a casual stroller about the tombs and monuments,
+attracted for the moment by the imposing cortege which had followed the
+dead man to his grave.
+
+Another sharp-eyed person made it his business to follow Barthorpe
+Herapath when he, too, went away. Barthorpe had come to the ceremony
+unattended. Selwood, Mr. Tertius, Professor Cox-Raythwaite, and Mr.
+Halfpenny had come together. These four also went away together.
+Barthorpe, still alone, re-entered his carriage when they had driven
+off. The observant person of the sharp eyes, hanging around the gates,
+heard him give his order:
+
+"Portman Square!"
+
+The four men who had preceded him were standing in the study when
+Barthorpe drove up to the house--standing around Peggie, who was
+obviously ill at ease and distressed. And when Barthorpe's voice was
+heard in the hall, Mr. Halfpenny spoke in decisive tones.
+
+"We must understand matters at once," he said. "There is no use in
+beating about the bush. He has refused to meet or receive me so far--now
+I shall insist upon his saying plainly whatever he has to say. You, too,
+my dear, painful as it may be, must also insist."
+
+"On--what?" asked Peggie.
+
+"On his saying what he intends--if he intends--I don't know what he
+intends!" answered Mr. Halfpenny, testily. "It's most annoying, and we
+can't----"
+
+Barthorpe came striding in, paused as he glanced around, and affected
+surprise.
+
+"Oh!" he said. "I came to see you, Peggie--I did not know that there was
+any meeting in progress."
+
+"Barthorpe!" said Peggie, looking earnestly at him. "You know that all
+these gentlemen were Uncle Jacob's friends--dear friends--and they are
+mine. Don't go away--Mr. Halfpenny wants to speak to you."
+
+Barthorpe had already half turned to the door. He turned back--then
+turned again.
+
+"Mr. Halfpenny can only want to speak to me on business," he said,
+coldly. "If Mr. Halfpenny wants to speak to me on business, he knows
+where to find me."
+
+He had already laid a hand on the door when Mr. Halfpenny spoke sharply
+and sternly.
+
+"Mr. Barthorpe Herapath!" he said. "I know very well where to find you,
+and I have tried to find you and to get speech with you for two days--in
+vain. I insist, sir, that you speak to us--or at any rate to your
+cousin--you are bound to speak, sir, out of common decency!"
+
+"About what?" asked Barthorpe. "I came to speak to my cousin--in
+private."
+
+"There is a certain something, sir," retorted Mr. Halfpenny, with
+warmth, "about which we must speak in public--such a public, at any
+rate, as is represented here and now. You know what it is--your uncle's
+will!"
+
+"What about my uncle's will--or alleged will?" asked Barthorpe with a
+sneer.
+
+Mr. Halfpenny appeared to be about to make a very angry retort, but he
+suddenly checked himself and looked at Peggie.
+
+"You hear, my dear?" he said. "He says--alleged will!"
+
+Peggie turned to Barthorpe with an appealing glance.
+
+"Barthorpe!" she exclaimed. "Is that fair--is it generous? Is it
+just--to our uncle's memory? You know that is his will--what doubt can
+there be about it?"
+
+Barthorpe made no answer. He still stood with one hand on the door,
+looking at Mr. Halfpenny. And suddenly he spoke.
+
+"What do you wish to ask me?" he said.
+
+"I wish to ask you a plain question," replied Mr. Halfpenny. "Do you
+accept this will, and are you going to act on your cousin's behalf? I
+want your plain answer."
+
+Barthorpe hesitated a moment before replying. Then he made as if to open
+the door.
+
+"I decline to discuss the matter of the alleged will," he answered. "I
+decline--especially," he continued, lifting a finger and pointing at Mr.
+Tertius, "especially in the presence of that man!"
+
+"Barthorpe!" exclaimed Peggie, flushing at the malevolence of the tone
+and gesture. "How dare you! In my house----"
+
+Barthorpe suddenly laughed. Once again he turned to the door--and this
+time he opened it.
+
+"Just so--just so!" he said. "Your house, my dear cousin--according to
+the alleged will."
+
+"Which will be proved, sir," snapped out Mr. Halfpenny. "As you refuse,
+or seem to do so, I shall act for your cousin--at once."
+
+Barthorpe opened the door wide, and as he crossed the threshold, turned
+and gave Mr. Halfpenny a swift glance.
+
+"Act!" he said. "Act!--if you can!"
+
+Then he walked out and shut the door behind him, and Mr. Halfpenny
+turned to the others.
+
+"The will must be proved at once," he said decisively. "Alleged--you all
+heard him say alleged! That looks as if--um! My dear Tertius, you have
+no doubt whatever about the proper and valid execution of this important
+document--now in my safe. None?"
+
+"How can I have any doubt about what I actually saw?" replied Mr.
+Tertius. "I can't have any doubt, Halfpenny! I saw Jacob sign it; I
+signed it myself; I saw young Burchill sign it; we all three saw each
+other sign. What more can one want?"
+
+"I must see this Mr. Burchill," remarked Mr. Halfpenny. "I must see him
+at once. Unfortunately, he left no address at the place we called at. He
+will have to be discovered."
+
+Peggie coloured slightly as she turned to Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"Is it really necessary to see Mr. Burchill personally?" she asked with
+a palpable nervousness which struck Selwood strangely. "Must he be
+found?"
+
+"Absolutely necessary, my dear," replied Mr. Halfpenny. "He must be
+found, and at once."
+
+Mr. Tertius uttered an exclamation of annoyance.
+
+"Dear, dear!" he said. "I noticed the young man at the cemetery just
+now--I ought really to have pointed him out to you--most forgetful of
+me!"
+
+"I have Mr. Burchill's address," said Peggie, with an effort. "He left
+his card here on the day of my uncle's death--the address is on it. And
+I put it in this drawer."
+
+Selwood watched Peggie curiously, and with a strange, vague sense of
+uneasiness as she went over to a drawer in Jacob Herapath's desk and
+produced the card. He had noticed a slight tremor in her voice when she
+spoke of Burchill, and her face, up till then very pale, had coloured at
+the first mention of his name. And now he was asking himself why any
+reference to this man seemed to disturb her, why----
+
+But Mr. Halfpenny cut in on his meditations. The old lawyer held up the
+card to the light and slowly read out the address.
+
+"Ah! Calengrove Mansions, Maida Vale," he said. "Um--quarter of an
+hour's drive. Tertius--you and I will go and see this young fellow at
+once."
+
+Mr. Tertius turned to Professor Cox-Raythwaite.
+
+"What do you think of this, Cox-Raythwaite?" he asked, almost piteously.
+"I mean--what do you think's best to be done?"
+
+The Professor, who had stood apart with Selwood during the episode which
+had just concluded, pulling his great beard and looking very big and
+black and formidable, jerked his thumb in the direction of the old
+lawyer.
+
+"Do what Halfpenny says," he growled. "See this other witness. And--but
+here, I'll have a word with you in the hall."
+
+He said good-bye in a gruffly affectionate way to Peggie, patted her
+shoulder and her head as if she were a child, and followed the two other
+men out. Peggie, left alone with Selwood, turned to him. There was
+something half-appealing in her face, and Selwood suddenly drove his
+hands deep into his pockets, clenched them there, and put a tight hold
+on himself.
+
+"It's all different!" exclaimed Peggie, dropping into a chair and
+clasping her hands on her knees. "All so different! And I feel so
+utterly helpless."
+
+"Scarcely that," said Selwood, with an effort to speak calmly. "You've
+got Mr. Tertius, and Mr. Halfpenny, and the Professor, and--and if
+there's anything--anything I can do, don't you know, why, I----"
+
+Peggie impulsively stretched out a hand--and Selwood, not trusting
+himself, affected not to see it. To take Peggie's hand at that moment
+would have been to let loose a flood of words which he was resolved not
+to utter just then, if ever. He moved across to the desk and pretended
+to sort and arrange some loose papers.
+
+"We'll--all--all--do everything we can," he said, trying to keep any
+tremor out of his voice. "Everything you know, of course."
+
+"I know--and I'm grateful," said Peggie. "But I'm frightened."
+
+Selwood turned quickly and looked sharply at her.
+
+"Frightened?" he exclaimed. "Of what?"
+
+"Of something that I can't account for or realize," she replied. "I've a
+feeling that everything's all wrong--and strange. And--I'm frightened of
+Mr. Burchill."
+
+"What!" snapped Selwood. He dropped the papers and turned to face her
+squarely. "Frightened of--Burchill? Why?"
+
+"I--don't--know," she answered, shaking her head. "It's more an
+idea--something vague. I was always afraid of him when he was here--I've
+been afraid of him ever since. I was very much afraid when he came here
+the other day."
+
+"You saw him?" asked Selwood.
+
+"I didn't see him. He merely sent up that card. But," she added, "I was
+afraid even then."
+
+Selwood leaned back against the desk, regarding her attentively.
+
+"I don't think you're the sort to be afraid without reason," he said.
+"Of course, if you have reason, I've no right to ask what it is. All the
+same, if this chap is likely to annoy you, you've only to speak
+and--and----"
+
+"Yes?" she said, smiling a little. "You'd----"
+
+"I'll punch his head and break his neck for him!" growled Selwood.
+"And--and I wish you'd say if you have reasons why I should. Has--has he
+annoyed you?"
+
+"No," answered Peggie. She regarded Selwood steadily for a minute; then
+she spoke with sudden impulse. "When he was here," she said, "I mean
+before he left my uncle, he asked me to marry him."
+
+Selwood, in spite of himself, could not keep a hot flush from mounting
+to his cheek.
+
+"And--you?" he said.
+
+"I said no, of course, and he took my answer and went quietly away,"
+replied Peggie. "And that--that's why I'm frightened of him."
+
+"Good heavens! Why?" demanded Selwood. "I don't understand. Frightened
+of him because he took his answer, went away quietly, and hasn't annoyed
+you since? That--I say, that licks me!"
+
+"Perhaps," she said. "But, you see, you don't know him. It's just
+because of that--that quiet--that--oh, I don't quite know how to
+explain!--that--well, silence--that I'm afraid--yes, literally afraid.
+There's something about him that makes me fear. I used to wish that my
+uncle had never employed him--that he had never come here. And--I'd
+rather be penniless than that my uncle had ever got him--him!--to
+witness that will!"
+
+Selwood found no words wherewith to answer this. He did not understand
+it. Nevertheless he presently found words of another sort.
+
+"All right!" he muttered doggedly. "I'll watch him--or, I'll watch that
+he--that--well, that no harm comes to--you know what I mean, don't you?"
+
+"Yes," murmured Peggie, and once more held out an impulsive hand. But
+Selwood again pretended to see nothing, and he began another energetic
+assault upon the papers which Jacob Herapath would never handle again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+THE LAW
+
+
+Once within a taxi-cab and on their way to Maida Vale, Mr. Halfpenny
+turned to his companion with a shake of the head which implied a much
+mixed state of feeling.
+
+"Tertius!" he exclaimed. "There's something wrong! Quite apart from what
+we know, and from what we were able to communicate to the police,
+there's something wrong. I feel it--it's in the air, the--the whole
+atmosphere. That fellow Barthorpe is up to some game. What? Did you
+notice his manner, his attitude--everything? Of course!--who could help
+it? He--has some scheme in his head. Again I say--what?"
+
+Mr. Tertius stirred uneasily in his seat and shook his head.
+
+"You haven't heard anything from New Scotland Yard?" he asked.
+
+"Nothing--so far. But they are at work, of course. They'll work in their
+own way. And," continued Mr. Halfpenny, with a grim chuckle, "you can be
+certain of this much, Tertius--having heard what we were able to tell
+them, having seen what we were able to put before them, with respect to
+the doings of that eventful night, they won't let Master Barthorpe out
+of their ken--not they! It is best to let them pursue their own
+investigations in their own manner--they'll let us know what's been
+done, sure enough, at the right time."
+
+"Yes," assented Mr. Tertius. "Yes--so I gather--I am not very conversant
+with these things. I confess there's one thing that puzzles me greatly
+though, Halfpenny. That's the matter of the man who came out of the House
+of Commons with Jacob that night. You remember that the coachman,
+Mountain, told us--and said at the inquest also--that he overheard what
+Jacob said to that man--'The thing must be done at once, and you must have
+everything ready for me at noon tomorrow,' or words to that effect. Now
+that man must be somewhere at hand--he must have read the newspapers, know
+all about the inquest--why doesn't he come forward?"
+
+Mr. Halfpenny chuckled again and patted his friend's arm.
+
+"Ah!" he said. "But you don't know that he hasn't come forward! The
+probability is, Tertius, that he has come forward, and that the people at
+New Scotland Yard are already in possession of whatever story he had to
+tell. Oh, yes, I quite expect that--I also expect to hear, eventually,
+another piece of news in relation to that man."
+
+"What's that?" asked Mr. Tertius.
+
+"Do you remember that, at the inquest, Mountain, the coachman, said that
+there was another bit of evidence he had to give which he'd forgotten to
+tell Mr. Barthorpe when he questioned him? Mountain"--continued Mr.
+Halfpenny--"went on to say that while Jacob Herapath and the man stood
+talking in Palace Yard, before Jacob got into his brougham, Jacob took
+some object from his waistcoat pocket and handed it, with what looked
+like a letter, to the man? Eh?"
+
+"I remember very well," replied Mr. Tertius.
+
+"Very good," said Mr. Halfpenny. "Now I believe that object to have been
+the key of Jacob's safe at the Safe Deposit, which, you remember, could
+not be found, but which young Selwood affirmed had been in Jacob's
+possession only that afternoon. The letter I believe to have been a
+formal authority to the Safe Deposit people to allow the bearer to open
+that safe. I've thought all that out," concluded Mr. Halfpenny, with a
+smile of triumph, "thought it out carefully, and it's my impression that
+that's what we shall find when the police move. I believe that man has
+revealed himself to the police, has told them--whatever it is he has to
+tell, and that his story probably throws a vast flood of light on the
+mystery. So I say--let us not at present concern ourselves with the
+actual murder of our poor friend: the police will ferret that out! What
+we're concerned with is--the will! That will, Tertius, must be proved,
+and at once."
+
+"I am as little conversant with legal matters as with police procedure,"
+observed Mr. Tertius. "What is the exact course, now, in a case of this
+sort?"
+
+"The exact procedure, my dear sir," replied Mr. Halfpenny, dropping into
+his best legal manner, and putting the tips of his warmly-gloved
+fingers together in front of his well-filled overcoat, "the exact
+procedure is as follows. Barthorpe Herapath is without doubt the
+heir-at-law of his deceased uncle, Jacob Herapath. If Jacob had died
+intestate Barthorpe would have taken what we may call everything, for
+his uncle's property is practically all in the shape of real estate, in
+comparison to which the personalty is a mere nothing. But there is a
+will, leaving everything to Margaret Wynne. If Barthorpe Herapath
+intends to contest the legality of that will----"
+
+"Good heavens, is that possible?" exclaimed Mr. Tertius. "He can't!"
+
+"He can--if he wishes," replied Mr. Halfpenny, "though at present I don't
+know on what possible grounds. But, if he does, he can at once enter a
+caveat in the Probate Registry. The effect of that--supposing he does
+it--will be that when I take the will to be proved, progress will be
+stopped. Very well--I shall then, following the ordinary practice, issue
+and serve upon Barthorpe Herapath a document technically known as a
+'warning.' On service of this warning, Barthorpe, if he insists upon his
+opposition, must enter an appearance. There will then be an opportunity
+for debate and attempt at agreement between him and ourselves. If that
+fails, or does not take place, I shall then issue a writ to establish the
+will. And that being done, why, then, my dear sir, the proceedings--ah,
+the proceedings would follow--substantially--the--er--usual course of
+litigation in this country."
+
+"And that," asked Mr. Tertius, deeply interested and wholly innocent,
+"that would be----?"
+
+"Well, there are two parties in this case--supposed case," continued Mr.
+Halfpenny, "Barthorpe Herapath, Margaret Wynne. After the issue of the
+writ I have just spoken of, each party would put in his or her pleas,
+and the matter would ultimately go to trial in the Probate Division of
+the High Court, most likely before a judge and a special jury."
+
+"And how long would all this take?" asked Mr. Tertius.
+
+"Ah!--um!" replied Mr. Halfpenny, tapping the tips of his gloves
+together. "That, my dear sir, is a somewhat difficult question to
+answer. I believe that all readers of the newspapers are aware that our
+Law Courts are somewhat congested--the cause lists are very full. The
+time which must elapse before a case can actually come to trial varies,
+my dear Tertius, varies enormously. But if--as in the matter we are
+supposing would probably be the case--if all the parties concerned were
+particularly anxious to have the case disposed of without delay, the
+trial might be arrived at within three or four months--that is, my dear
+sir, if the Long Vacation did not intervene. But--speaking generally--a
+better, more usual, more probable estimate would be, say six, seven,
+eight, or nine months."
+
+"So long?" exclaimed Mr. Tertius. "I thought that justice was neither
+denied, sold, nor delayed!"
+
+"Justice is never denied, my good friend, nor is it sold," replied Mr.
+Halfpenny, oracularly. "As to delay, ah, well, you know, if people will
+be litigants--and I assure you that nothing is so pleasing to a very
+large number of extraordinary persons who simply love litigation--a
+little delay cannot be avoided. However, we will hope that we shall have
+no litigation. Our present job is to get that will proved, and so far I
+see no difficulty. There is the will--we have the witnesses. At least,
+there are you, and we're hoping to see t'other in a few minutes. By the
+by, Tertius, what sort of fellow is this Burchill?"
+
+Mr. Tertius considered his answer to this question.
+
+"Well, I hardly know," he said at last. "Of course, I have rarely seen
+much of Jacob's secretaries. This man--he's not quite a youngster,
+Halfpenny--struck me as being the sort of person who might be dangerous."
+
+"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Halfpenny. "Dangerous! God bless me! Now, in what
+way, Tertius?"
+
+"I don't quite know," replied Mr. Tertius. "He, somehow, from what I saw
+of him, suggested, I really don't know how, a certain atmosphere of,
+say--I'm trying to find the right words--cunning, subtlety, depth.
+Yes--yes, I should say he was what we commonly call--or what is commonly
+called in vulgar parlance--deep. Deep!"
+
+"You mean--designing?" suggested Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"Exactly--designing," assented Mr. Tertius. "It--it was the sort of idea
+he conveyed, you know."
+
+"Don't like the sound of him," said Mr. Halfpenny, "However, he's the
+second witness and we must put up with the fact. And here we are at
+these Calengrove Mansions, and let's hope we haven't a hundred infernal
+steps to climb, and that we find the fellow in."
+
+The fellow was in. And the fellow, who had now discarded his mourning
+suit for the purple and fine linen which suggested Bond Street, was just
+about to go out, and was in a great hurry, and said so. He listened with
+obvious impatience while Mr. Tertius presented his companion.
+
+"I wished to see you about the will of the deceased Jacob Herapath, Mr.
+Burchill," said Mr. Halfpenny "The will which, of course, you witnessed."
+
+Burchill, who was gathering some books and papers together, and had
+already apologized for not being able to ask his callers to sit down,
+answered in an off-hand, bustling fashion.
+
+"Of course, of course!" he replied. "Mr. Jacob Herapath's will, eh? Oh,
+of course, yes. Anything I can do, Mr. Halfpenny, of course--perhaps
+you'll drop me a line and make an appointment at your office some
+day--then I'll call, d'you see?"
+
+"You remember the occasion, and the will, and your signature?" said Mr.
+Halfpenny, contriving to give Mr. Tertius a nudge as he put this direct
+question.
+
+"Oh, I remember everything that ever happened in connection with my
+secretaryship to Mr. Jacob Herapath!" replied Burchill, still bustling.
+"I shall be ready for anything whenever I'm wanted, Mr. Halfpenny--pleased
+to be of service to the family, I'm sure. Now, you must really pardon
+me, gentlemen, if I hurry you and myself out--I've a most important
+engagement and I'm late already. As I said--drop me a line for an
+appointment, Mr. Halfpenny, and I'll come to you. Now, good-bye,
+good-bye!"
+
+He had got them out of his flat, shaken hands with them, and hurried
+off before either elderly gentleman could get a word in, and as he flew
+towards the stairs Mr. Halfpenny looked at Mr. Tertius and shook his head.
+
+"That beggar didn't want to talk," he said. "I don't like it."
+
+"But he said that he remembered!" exclaimed Mr. Tertius. "Wasn't that
+satisfactory?"
+
+"Anything but satisfactory, the whole thing," replied the old lawyer.
+"Didn't you notice that the man avoided any direct reply? He said 'of
+course' about a hundred times, and was as ambiguous, and non-committal,
+and vague, as he could be. My dear Tertius, the fellow was fencing!"
+
+Mr. Tertius looked deeply distressed.
+
+"You don't think----" he began.
+
+"I might think a lot when I begin to think," said Mr. Halfpenny as they
+slowly descended the stairs from the desert solitude of the top floor of
+Calengrove Mansions. "But there's one thought that strikes me just
+now--do you remember what Burchill's old landlady at Upper Seymour
+Street told us?"
+
+"That Barthorpe Herapath had been to inquire for Burchill?--yes,"
+replied Mr. Tertius. "You're wondering----"
+
+"I'm wondering if, since then, Barthorpe has found him," said Mr.
+Halfpenny. "If he has--if there have been passages between them--if----"
+
+He paused half-way down the stairs, stood for a moment or two in deep
+thought and then laid his hand on his friend's arm.
+
+"Tertius!" he said gravely. "That will must be presented for probate at
+once! I must lose no time. Come along--let me get back to my office and
+get to work. And do you go back to Portman Square and give the little
+woman your company."
+
+Mr. Tertius went back to Portman Square there and then, and did what he
+could to make the gloomy house less gloomy. Instead of retreating to his
+own solitude he remained with Peggie, and tried to cheer her up by
+discussing various plans and matters of the future. And he was taking a
+quiet cup of tea with her at five o'clock when Kitteridge came in with a
+telegram for him. He opened it with trembling fingers and read:
+
+ _"Barthorpe entered caveat in Probate Registry at half-past
+ three this afternoon.--Halfpenny."_
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+THE ROSEWOOD BOX
+
+
+Mr. Tertius dropped the telegram on the little table at which he and
+Peggie were sitting, and betrayed his feelings with a deep groan.
+Peggie, who was just about to give him his second cup of tea, set down
+her teapot and jumped to his side.
+
+"Oh, what is it!" she exclaimed. "Some bad news? Please--"
+
+Mr. Tertius pulled himself together and tried to smile.
+
+"You must forgive me, my dear," he said, with a feeble attempt to speak
+cheerily. "I--the truth is, I think I have lived in such a state of ease
+and--yes, luxury, for so many years that I am not capable of readily
+bearing these trials and troubles. I'm ashamed of myself--I must be
+braver--not so easily affected."
+
+"But--the telegram?" said Peggie.
+
+Mr. Tertius handed it to her with a dismal shake of his head.
+
+"I suppose it's only what was to be expected, after all that Halfpenny
+told me this afternoon," he remarked. "But I scarcely thought it would
+occur so soon. My dear, I am afraid you must prepare yourself for a
+great deal of unpleasantness and worry. Your cousin seems to be
+determined to give much trouble. Extraordinary!--most extraordinary! My
+dear, I confess I do not understand it."
+
+Peggie had picked up the telegram and was reading it with knitted brow.
+
+"'Barthorpe entered caveat in Probate Registry at half-past three this
+afternoon,'" she slowly repeated. "But what does that mean, Mr. Tertius?
+Something to do with the will?"
+
+"A great deal to do with the will, I fear!" replied Mr. Tertius,
+lugubriously. "A caveat, my dear, is some sort of process--I'm sure I
+don't know whether it's given by word of mouth, or if it's a document--by
+which the admission to probate of a dead person's last will and testament
+can be stopped. In plain language," continued Mr. Tertius, "your cousin
+Barthorpe has been to the Probate Registry and done something to prevent
+Mr. Halfpenny from proving the will. It is a wicked action on his
+part--and, considering that he is a solicitor, and that he saw the
+will with his own eyes, it is, as I have previously remarked, most
+extraordinary!"
+
+"And all this means--what?" asked Peggie.
+
+"It means that there will be legal proceedings," groaned Mr. Tertius.
+"Long, tedious, most annoying and trying proceedings! Perhaps a trial--we
+may have to go to court and give evidence. I dread it!--I am, as I said,
+so used to a life of ease and freedom from anxiety that anything of this
+sort distresses me unspeakably. I fear I am degenerating into cowardice!"
+
+"Nonsense!" said Peggie. "It is merely that this sort of thing is
+disturbing. And we are not going to be afraid of Barthorpe. Barthorpe is
+very foolish. I meant--always have meant, ever since I heard about the
+will--to share with him, for there's no law against that. But if
+Barthorpe wants to upset the will altogether and claim everything, I
+shall fight him. And if I win--as I suppose I shall--I shall make him do
+penance pretty heavily before he's forgiven. However, that's all in the
+future. What I don't understand about the present is--how can that will
+be upset? Mr. Halfpenny says it's duly and properly executed, witnessed,
+and so on--how can Barthorpe object to it?"
+
+Mr. Tertius put down his cup and rose.
+
+"Your cousin, Barthorpe, my dear, is, I regret to say, a deep man," he
+replied. "He has some scheme in his head. This," he went on, picking up
+the telegram and placing it in his pocket, "this is the first step in
+that scheme. Well, it is perhaps a relief to know that he has taken it:
+we shall now know where we are and what has to be done."
+
+"Quite so," said Peggie. "But there is another matter, Mr. Tertius,
+which seems to be forgotten in this of the will. Pray, what is Barthorpe
+doing, what is anybody doing, about solving the mystery of my uncle's
+death? Everybody says he was murdered--who is doing anything to find the
+murderer?"
+
+Mr. Tertius, who had advanced as far as the door on his way out of the
+room, came back to Peggie's side in a fashion suggestive of deep
+mystery, walking on the tips of his toes and putting a finger to his
+lips as he drew near his chair.
+
+"My dear!" he said, bending down to her and speaking in a tone fully as
+indicative of mystery as his tip-toe movement, "a great deal is being
+done--but in the strictest secrecy! Most important investigations, my
+dear!--the police, the detective police, you know. The word at
+present--to put it into one word, vulgar, but expressive--the word is
+'Mum'! Silence, my dear--the policy of the mole--underground working,
+you know. From what I am aware of, and from what our good friend
+Halfpenny tells me, and believes, I gather that a result will be
+attained which will be surprising."
+
+"So long as justice is done," remarked Peggie. "That is all I want--all we
+ought to aim at. I don't care twopence about surprising or sensational
+discoveries--I want to see my uncle's murderer properly punished."
+
+She shed a few more quiet tears over Jacob Herapath's untoward fate when
+Mr. Tertius had left her and fell to thinking about him. The thoughts
+which came presently led her to go to the dead man's room--a simple,
+spartan-like chamber which she had not entered since his death. She had
+a vague sense of wanting to be brought into touch with him through the
+things which had been his, and for a while she wandered aimlessly about
+the room, laying a hand now and then on the objects which she knew he
+must have handled the last time he had occupied the room--his toilet
+articles, the easy chair in which he always sat for a few minutes every
+night, reading a little before going to bed, the garments which hung in
+his wardrobe, anything on which his fingers had rested. And as she
+wandered about she noted, not for the first nor the hundredth time, how
+Jacob Herapath had gathered about him in this room a number of objects
+connected with his youth. The very furniture, simple, homely stuff, had
+once stood in his mother's bedroom in a small cottage in a far-off
+country. On the walls were portraits of his father and mother--crude
+things painted by some local artist; there, too, were some samplers
+worked by his mother in her girlhood, flanked by some faded groups of
+flowers which she had painted about the same time. Jacob Herapath had
+brought all these things to his grand house in Portman Square years
+before, and had cleared a room of fine modern furniture and fittings to
+make space for them. He had often said to Peggie, when she grew old
+enough to understand, that he liked to wake in a morning and see the old
+familiar things about him which he had known as a child. For one object
+in that room he had a special veneration and affection--an old rosewood
+workbox, which had belonged to his mother, and to her mother before her.
+Once he had allowed Peggie to inspect it, to take from it the tray lined
+with padded green silk, to examine the various nooks and corners
+contrived by the eighteenth-century cabinetmaker--some disciple, maybe,
+of Chippendale or Sheraton--to fit the tarnished silver thimbles on to
+her own fingers, to wonder at the knick-knacks of a departed age, and to
+laugh over the scent of rose and lavender which hung about the skeins
+and spools. And he had told her that when he died the rosewood box
+should be hers--as long as he lived, he said, it must stand on his chest
+of drawers, so that he could see it at least twice a day.
+
+Jacob Herapath was dead now, and buried, and the rosewood box and
+everything else that had been his had passed to Peggie--as things were,
+at any rate. She presently walked up to the queer old chest of drawers,
+and drew the rosewood box towards her and lifted the lid. It was years
+since Jacob had shown it to her, and she remembered the childish delight
+with which she had lifted out the tray which lay on the top and looked
+into the various compartments beneath it. Now she opened the box again,
+and lifted the tray--and there, lying bold and uncovered before her
+eyes, she saw a letter, inscribed with one word in Jacob Herapath's
+well-known handwriting--"Peggie."
+
+If Jacob Herapath himself had suddenly appeared before her in that quiet
+room, the girl could scarcely have felt more keenly the strange and
+subtle fear which seized upon her as she realized that what she was
+staring at was probably some message to herself. It was some time before
+she dared to lay hands on this message--when at last she took the letter
+out of the box her fingers trembled so much that she found a difficulty
+in opening the heavily-sealed envelope. But she calmed herself with a
+great effort, and carrying the half-sheet of note-paper, which she drew
+from its cover, over to the window, lifted it in the fading light and
+read the few lines which Jacob Herapath had scrawled there.
+
+ "If anything ever happens suddenly to me, my will, duly
+ executed and witnessed by Mr. Tertius and Mr. Frank
+ Burchill, is in a secret drawer of my old bureau which
+ lies behind the third small drawer on the right-hand
+ side.
+
+ "JACOB HERAPATH."
+
+That was all--beyond a date, and the date was a recent one. "If anything
+ever happens suddenly"--had he then felt some fear, experienced any
+premonition, of a sudden happening? Why had he never said anything to
+her, why?
+
+But Peggie realized that such questions were useless at that time--that
+time was pre-eminently one of action. She put the letter back in the
+rosewood box, took the box in her arms, and carrying it off to her own
+room, locked it up in a place of security. And that had scarcely been
+done when Kitteridge came seeking her and bringing with him a card: Mr.
+Frank Burchill's card, and on it scribbled a single line: "Will you
+kindly give me a few minutes?"
+
+Peggie considered this request in one flash of thought, and turned to
+the butler.
+
+"Where is Mr. Burchill?" she asked. "In the study? Very well, I will
+come down to him in a few minutes."
+
+She made a mighty effort to show herself calm, collected, and indifferent,
+when she presently went down to the study. But she neither shook hands
+with the caller, nor asked him to sit; instead she marched across to the
+hearthrug and regarded him from a distance.
+
+"Yes, Mr. Burchill?" she said quietly. "You wish to see me?"
+
+She looked him over steadily as she spoke, and noted a certain air of
+calm self-assurance about him which struck her with a vague uneasiness.
+He was too easy, too quiet, too entirely businesslike to be free from
+danger. And the bow which he gave her was, to her thinking, the height
+of false artifice.
+
+"I wished to see you and to speak to you, with your permission," he
+answered. "I beg you to believe that what I have--what I desire to say
+is to be said by me with the deepest respect, the most sincere
+consideration. I have your permission to speak? Then I beg to ask you
+if--I speak with deep courtesy!--if the answer which you made to a
+certain question of mine some time ago is--was--is to be--final?"
+
+"So final that I am surprised that you should refer to the matter,"
+replied Peggie. "I told you so at the time."
+
+"Circumstances have changed," he said. "I am at a parting of the ways in
+life's journey. I wish to know--definitely--which way I am to take. A
+ray of guiding light from you----"
+
+"There will be none!" said Peggie sharply. "Not a gleam. This is waste
+of time. If that is all you have to say----"
+
+The door of the study opened, and Selwood, who was still engaged about
+the house, came in. He paused on the threshold, staring from one to the
+other, and made as if to withdraw. But Peggie openly smiled on him.
+
+"Come in, Mr. Selwood," she said. "I was just going to ask Kitteridge to
+find you. I want to see both you and Mr. Tertius."
+
+Then she turned to Burchill, who stood, a well-posed figure in his fine
+raiment, still watching her, and made him a frigid bow.
+
+"There is no more to say on that point--at any time," she said quietly.
+"Good day. Mr. Selwood, will you ring the bell?"
+
+Burchill executed another profound and self-possessed bow. He presently
+followed the footman from the room, and Peggie, for the first time since
+Jacob Herapath's death, suddenly let her face relax and burst into a
+hearty laugh.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+WEAVING THE NET
+
+
+That evening Triffitt got Burchill's address from Carver, and next day
+he drew a hundred pounds from the cashier of the _Argus_ and went off to
+Calengrove Mansions. In his mind there was a clear and definite notion.
+It might result in something; it might come to nothing, but he was going
+to try it. Briefly, it was that if he wished--as he unfeignedly did
+wish--to find out anything about Burchill, he must be near him; so near,
+indeed, that he could keep an eye on him, acquaint himself with his
+goings and comings, observe his visitors, watch for possible openings,
+make himself familiar with Burchill's daily life. It might be a
+difficult task; it might be an easy task--in any case, it was a task
+that must be attempted. With Markledew's full consent and approval
+behind him and Markledew's money-bags to draw upon, Triffitt felt equal
+to attempting anything.
+
+The first thing was to take a quiet look at Burchill's immediate
+environment. Calengrove Mansions turned out to be one of the smaller of
+the many blocks of residential flats which have of late years arisen in
+such numbers in the neighbourhood of Maida Vale and St. John's Wood. It
+was an affair of some five or six floors, and judging from what Triffitt
+could see of it from two sides, it was not fully occupied at that time,
+for many of its windows were uncurtained, and there was a certain air of
+emptiness about the upper storeys. This fact was not unpleasing to
+Triffitt; it argued that he would have small difficulty in finding a
+lodgment within the walls which sheltered the man he wanted to watch.
+And in pursuance of his scheme, which, as a beginning, was to find out
+exactly where Burchill was located, he walked into the main entrance and
+looked about him, hoping to find an address-board. Such a board
+immediately caught his eye, affixed to the wall near the main staircase.
+Then Triffitt saw that the building was divided into five floors, each
+floor having some three or four flats. Those on the bottom floors
+appeared to be pretty well taken; the names of their occupants were
+neatly painted in small compartments on the board. Right at the top was
+the name Mr. Frank Burchill--and on that floor, which evidently
+possessed three flats, there were presumably no other occupants, for the
+remaining two spaces relating to it were blank.
+
+Triffitt took all this in at a glance; another glance showed him a door
+close by on which was painted the word "Office." He pushed this open and
+walked inside, to confront a clerk who was the sole occupant. To him,
+Triffitt, plunging straight into business, gently intimated that he was
+searching for a convenient flat. The clerk immediately began to pull out
+some coloured plans, labelled first, second, third floors.
+
+"About what sized flat do you require?" he asked. He had already looked
+Triffitt well over, and as Triffitt, in honour of the occasion, had put
+on his smartest suit and a new overcoat, he decided that this was a
+young man who was either just married or about to be married. "Do you
+want a family flat, or one for a couple without family, or----"
+
+"What I want," answered Triffitt readily, "is a bachelor flat--for
+myself. And--if possible--furnished."
+
+"Oh!" said the clerk. "Just so. I happen to have something that will
+suit you exactly--that is, if you don't want to take it for longer than
+three or four months." He pulled forward another plan, labelled "Fifth
+Floor," and pointed to certain portions, shaded off in light colours.
+"One of our tenants, Mr. Stillwater," he continued, "has gone abroad for
+four months, and he'd be glad to let his flat, furnished, in his
+absence. That's it--it contains, you see, a nice sitting-room, a
+bedroom, a bathroom, and a small kitchen--all contained within the flat,
+of course. It is well and comfortably furnished, and available at once."
+
+Triffitt bent over the plan. But he was not looking at the shaded
+portion over which the clerk's pencil was straying; instead he was
+regarding the fact that across the corresponding portion of the plan was
+written in red ink the words, "Mr. Frank Burchill." The third portion
+was blank; it, apparently, was unlet.
+
+"That is really about the size of flat I want," said Triffitt, musingly.
+"What's the rent of that, now?"
+
+"I can let that to you for fifty shillings a week," answered the clerk.
+"That includes everything--there's plate, linen, glass, china, anything
+you want. Slight attendance can be arranged for with our caretaker's
+wife--that is, she can cook breakfast, and make beds, and do more, if
+necessary. Perhaps you would like to see this flat?"
+
+Triffitt followed the clerk to the top of the house. The absent Mr.
+Stillwater's rooms were comfortable and pleasant; one glance around them
+decided Triffitt.
+
+"This place will suit me very well," he said. "Now I'll give you
+satisfactory references about myself, and pay you a month's rent in
+advance, and if that's all right to you, I'll come in today. You can
+ring up my references on your 'phone, and then, if you're satisfied,
+we'll settle the rent, and I'll see the caretaker's wife about airing
+that bed."
+
+Within half an hour Triffitt was occupant of the flat, the cashier of
+the _Argus_ having duly telephoned that he was a thoroughly dependable
+and much-respected member of its staff, and Triffitt himself having
+handed over ten pounds as rent for the coming month, he interviewed the
+caretaker's wife, went to a neighbouring grocer's shop and ordered a
+stock of necessaries wherewith to fill his larder, repaired to his own
+lodgings and brought away all that he wanted in the way of luggage,
+books, and papers, and by the middle of the afternoon was fairly settled
+in his new quarters. He spent an hour in putting himself and his
+belongings straight--and then came the question what next?
+
+He was there for a special purpose--that special purpose was to
+acquaint himself as thoroughly as possible with the doings of Frank
+Burchill. Burchill was there--he was almost on the point of saying, in
+the next cell!--there, in the flat across the corridor; figuratively,
+within touch, if it were not for sundry divisions of brick, mortar, and
+the like. Burchill's door was precisely opposite his own; there was an
+advantage in that fact. And in Triffitt's outer door (all these flats,
+he discovered--that is, if they were all like his own, possessed double
+doors) there was a convenient letter slit, by manipulating which he
+could, if he chose, keep a perpetual observation on the other opposite.
+But Triffitt did not propose to sit with his eye glued to that letter
+slit all day--it might be useful at times, and for some special purpose,
+but he had wider views. And the first thing to do was to make an
+examination, geographical and exhaustive, of his own surroundings:
+Triffitt had learnt, during his journalistic training, that attention to
+details is one of the most important things in life.
+
+The first thing that had struck Triffitt in this respect was that there
+was no lift in this building. He had remarked on that to the clerk, and
+the clerk had answered with a shrug of the shoulders that it was a
+mistake and one for which the proprietor was already having to pay.
+However, Triffitt, bearing in mind what job he was on, was not
+displeased that the lift had been omitted--it is sometimes an advantage
+to be able to hang over the top rail of a staircase and watch people
+coming up from below. He stored that fact in his mental reservoirs. And
+now that he had got into his rooms, he proceeded to seek for more
+facts. First, as to the rooms themselves--he wanted to know all about
+them, because he had carefully noticed, while looking at the plan of
+that floor in the office downstairs, that Burchill's flat was arranged
+exactly like his own. And Triffitt's flat was like this--you entered
+through a double door into a good-sized sitting-room, out of which two
+other rooms led--one went into a small kitchen and pantry; the other
+into the bedroom, at the side of which was a little bathroom. The
+windows of the bedroom opened on to a view of the street below; those of
+the sitting-room on to a square of garden, on the lawn of which tenants
+might disport themselves, more or less sadly, with tennis or croquet in
+summer.
+
+Triffitt looked out of his sitting-room windows last of all. He then
+perceived with great joy that in front of them was a balcony, and that
+this balcony stretched across the entire front of the house. There were,
+in fact, balconies to all five floors--the notion being, of course, that
+occupants could whenever they pleased sit out there in such sunlight as
+struggled between their own roof and the tall buildings opposite. It
+immediately occurred to Triffitt that here was an easy way of making a
+call upon your next door neighbour; instead of crossing the corridor and
+knocking at his door, you had nothing to do but walk along the balcony
+and tap at his window. Filled with this thought Triffitt immediately
+stepped out on his balcony and inspected the windows of his own and the
+next flat. He immediately saw something which filled him with a great
+idea. Both windows were fitted with patent ventilators, let into the top
+panes. Now, supposing one of these ventilators was fully open, and two
+people were talking within the room in even the ordinary tones of
+conversation--would it not be possible for an eavesdropper outside to
+hear a good deal, if not everything, of what was said? The idea was
+worth thinking over, anyway, and Triffitt retired indoors to ruminate
+over it and over much else.
+
+For two or three days nothing happened. Twice Triffitt met Burchill on
+the stairs--Burchill, of course, did not know him from Adam, and gave
+him no more than the mere glance he would have thrown at any other
+ordinary young man. Triffitt, however, gave Burchill more than a passing
+look--unobtrusively. Certainly he was the man whom he had seen in the
+dock nine years before in that far-off Scottish town--there was little
+appreciable alteration in his appearance, except that he was now very
+smartly dressed. There were peculiarities about the fellow, said
+Triffitt, which you couldn't forget--certainly, Frank Burchill was
+Francis Bentham.
+
+But on the third day, two things happened--one connected directly with
+Triffitt's new venture, the other not. The first was that as Triffitt
+was going down the stairs that afternoon, on his way to the office, at
+which he kept looking in now and then, although he was relieved from
+regular attendance and duty, he met Barthorpe Herapath coming up.
+Triffitt thanked his lucky stars that the staircase was badly lighted,
+and that this was an unusually gloomy November day. True, Barthorpe had
+only once seen him, that he knew of--that morning at the estate office,
+when he, Triffitt, had asked Selwood for information--but then, some men
+have sharp memories for faces, and Barthorpe might recognize him and
+wonder what an _Argus_ man was doing there in Calengrove Mansions. So
+Triffitt quickly pulled the flap of the Trilby hat about his nose, and
+sank his chin lower into the turned-up collar of his overcoat, and
+hurried past the tall figure. And Barthorpe on his part never looked at
+the reporter--or if he did, took no more heed of him than of the
+balustrade at his side.
+
+"That's one thing established, anyway!" mused Triffitt as he went his
+way. "Barthorpe Herapath is in touch with Burchill. The dead man's
+nephew and the dead man's ex-secretary--um! Putting their heads
+together--about what?"
+
+He was still pondering this question when he reached the office and
+found a note from Carver who wanted to see him at once. Triffitt went
+round to the _Magnet_ and got speech with Carver in a quiet corner.
+Carver went straight to his point.
+
+"I've got him," he said, eyeing his fellow-conspirator triumphantly.
+
+"Got--who?" demanded Triffitt.
+
+"That taxi-cab chap--you know who I mean," answered Carver. "Ran him
+down at noon today."
+
+"No!" exclaimed Triffitt. "Gad! Are you sure, though?--is it certain
+he's the man you were after?"
+
+"He's the chap who drove a gentleman from near Portman Square to just by
+St. Mary Abbot church at two o'clock on the morning of the Herapath
+murder," replied Carver. "That's a dead certainty! I risked five pounds
+on it, anyway, for which I'll trouble you. I went on the lines of
+rounding up all the cabbies I could find who were as a rule on night
+duty round about that quarter, and bit by bit I got on to this fellow,
+and, as I say, I gave him a fiver for just telling me a mere bit. And
+it's here--he's already given some information to that old Mr.
+Tertius--you know--and Tertius commanded him to keep absolutely quiet
+until the moment came for a move. Well, that moment has not come yet,
+evidently--the chap hasn't been called on since, anyhow--and when I
+mentioned money he began to prick his ears. He's willing to tell--for
+money--if we keep dark what he tells us. The truth is, he's out to get
+what he can out of anybody. If you make it worth his while, he'll tell."
+
+"Aye!" said Triffitt. "But the question is, what has he got to tell?
+What does he know?--actually know?"
+
+"He knows," replied Carver, "he actually knows who the man was that he
+drove that morning! He didn't know who he was when he first gave
+information to Tertius, but he knows now, and, as I say, he's willing to
+sell his knowledge--in private."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+THE DIAMOND RING
+
+
+Triffitt considered Carver's report during a moment of mutual silence.
+If he had consulted his own personal inclination he would have demanded
+to be led straight to the taxi-cab driver. But Triffitt knew himself to
+be the expender of the Markledew money, and the knowledge made him
+unduly cautious.
+
+"It comes to this," he said at last, "this chap knows something which he's
+already told to this Mr. Tertius. Mr. Tertius has in all probability
+already told it to the people at New Scotland Yard. They, of course, will
+use the information at their own time and in their own way. But what we
+want is something new--something startling--something good!"
+
+"I tell you the fellow's got all that," said Carver. "He knows the man
+whom he drove that morning. Isn't that good enough?"
+
+"Depend upon how I can bring it out," answered Triffitt. "Well, when can
+I see this chap?"
+
+"Tonight--seven o'clock," replied Carver. "I fixed that, in anticipation."
+
+"And--where?" demanded Triffitt.
+
+"I'll go with you--it's to be at a pub near Orchard Street," said
+Carver. "Better bring money with you--he'll want cash."
+
+"All right," agreed Triffitt. "But I'm not going to throw coin about
+recklessly. I shall want value."
+
+Carver laughed. Triffitt's sudden caution amused him.
+
+"I reckon people have to buy pigs in pokes in dealing with this sort of
+thing, Triff," he said. "But whether the chap's information's good for
+much or not, I'm certain it's genuine. Well, come round here again at
+six-thirty."
+
+Triffitt, banknotes in pocket, went round again at six-thirty, and was
+duly conducted Oxford Street way by Carver, who eventually led him into
+a network of small streets, in which the mews and the stable appeared to
+be conspicuous features, and to the bar-parlour of a somewhat dingy
+tavern, at that hour little frequented. And at precisely seven o'clock
+the door of the parlour opened and a face showed itself, recognized
+Carver, and grinned. Carver beckoned the face into a corner, and having
+formally introduced his friend Triffitt, suggested liquid refreshment.
+The face assented cordially, and having obscured itself for a moment
+behind a pint pot, heaved a sigh of gratification, and seemed desirous
+of entering upon business.
+
+"But it ain't, of course, to go no further--at present," said the owner
+of the face. "Not into no newspapers nor nothing, _at_ present. I don't
+mind telling you young gents, if it's made worth my while, of course,
+but as things is, I don't want the old gent in Portman Square to know as
+how I've let on--d'ye see? Of course, I ain't seen nothing of him never
+since I called there, and he gave me a couple o' quid, and told me to
+expect more--only the more's a long time o' coming, and if I do see my
+way to turning a honest penny by what I knows, why, then, d'ye see----"
+
+"I see, very well," assented Triffitt. "And what might your idea of an
+honest penny be, now?"
+
+The taxi-cab driver silently regarded his questioner. He had already had
+a five-pound note out of Carver, who carried a small fund about him in
+case of emergency; he was speculating on his chances of materially
+increasing this, and his eyes grew greedy.
+
+"Well, now, guv'nor, what's your own notion of that?" he asked at last.
+"I'm a poor chap, you know, and I don't often get a chance o' making a
+bit in this way. What's it worth--what I can tell, you know--to you?
+This here young gentleman was keen enough about it this afternoon,
+guv'nor."
+
+"Depends," answered Triffitt. "You'd better answer a question or two.
+First--you haven't told the old gentleman in Portman Square--Mr.
+Tertius--any more than what you told my friend here you'd told him?"
+
+"Not a word more, guv'nor! 'Cause why--I ain't seen him since."
+
+"And you've told nothing to the police?"
+
+"The police ain't never come a-nigh me, and I ain't been near them. What
+the old chap said was--wait! And I've waited and ain't heard nothing."
+
+"Wherefore," observed Triffitt sardonically, "you want to make a bit."
+
+"Ain't no harm in a man doing his best for his-elf, guv'nor, I hope,"
+said the would-be informant. "If I don't look after myself, who's
+a-going to look after me--I asks you that, now?"
+
+"And I ask you--how much?" said Triffitt. "Out with it!"
+
+The taxi-cab driver considered, eyeing his prospective customer
+furtively.
+
+"The other gent told you what it is I can tell, guv'nor?" he said at
+last. "It's information of what you might call partik'lar importance, is
+that."
+
+"I know--you can tell the name of the man whom you drove that morning
+from the corner of Orchard Street to Kensington High Street," replied
+Triffitt. "It may be important--it mayn't. You see, the police haven't
+been in any hurry to approach you, have they? Come now, give it a name?"
+
+The informant summoned up his resolution.
+
+"Cash down--on the spot, guv'nor?" he asked.
+
+"Spot cash," replied Triffitt. "On this table!"
+
+"Well--how would a couple o' fivers be, now?" asked the anxious one.
+"It's good stuff, guv'nor."
+
+"A couple of fivers will do," answered Triffitt. "And here they are." He
+took two brand-new, crackling five-pound notes from his pocket, folded
+them up, laid them on the table, and set a glass on them. "Now, then!"
+he said. "Tell your tale--there's your money when it's told."
+
+The taxi-cab driver eyed the notes, edged his chair further into the
+half-lighted corner in which Triffitt and Carver sat, and dropped his
+voice to a whisper.
+
+"All right, guv'nor," he said. "Thanking you. Then it's this here--the
+man what I drove that morning was the nephew!"
+
+"You mean Mr. Barthorpe Herapath?" said Triffitt, also in a whisper.
+
+"That's him--that's the identical, sir! Of course," continued the
+informant, "I didn't know nothing of that when I told the old gent in
+Portman Square what I did tell him. Now, you see, I wasn't called at
+that inquest down there at Kensington--after what I'd told the old gent,
+I expected to be, but I wasn't. All the same, there's been a deal of
+talk around about the corner of Orchard Street, and, of course, there is
+them in that quarter as knows all the parties concerned, and this man
+Barthorpe, as you call him, was pointed out to me as the nephew--nephew
+to him as was murdered that night. And then, of course, I knew it was
+him as I took up at two o'clock that morning."
+
+"How did you know?" asked Triffitt.
+
+The taxi-cab driver held up a hand and tapped a brass ring on its third
+finger.
+
+"Where I wears that ring, gentlemen," he said triumphantly, "he wears a
+fine diamond--a reg'lar swell 'un. That morning, when he got into my
+cab, he rested his hand a minute on the door, and the light from one o'
+the lamps across the street shone full on the stone. Now, then, when
+this here Barthorpe was pointed out to me in Orchard Street, a few days
+ago, as the nephew of Jacob Herapath, he was talking to another
+gentleman, and as they stood there he lighted a cigar, and when he put
+his hand up, I see that ring again--no mistaking it, guv'nor! He was
+the man. And, from what I've read, it seems to me it was him as put on
+his uncle's coat and hat after the old chap was settled, and----"
+
+"If I were you, I'd keep those theories to myself--yet awhile, at any
+rate," said Triffitt. "In fact--I want you to. Here!" he went on,
+removing the glass and pushing the folded banknotes towards the taxi-cab
+driver, "put those in your pocket. And keep your mouth shut about having
+seen and told me. I shan't make any use--public use, anyway--of what
+you've said, just yet. If the old gentleman, Tertius, comes to you, or
+the police come along with or without him, you can tell 'em anything you
+like--everything you've told me if you please--it doesn't matter, now.
+But you're on no account to tell them that I've seen you and that you've
+spilt to me--do you understand?"
+
+The informant understood readily enough, and promised with equal
+readiness, even going so far as to say that that would suit him down to
+the ground.
+
+"All right," said Triffitt, "keep a still tongue as regards me, and
+there'll be another fiver for you. Now, Carver, we'll get."
+
+Outside Triffitt gave his companion's arm a confidential squeeze.
+
+"Things are going well!" he said. "I wasn't a bit surprised at what that
+fellow told me--I expected it. What charms me is that Barthorpe
+Herapath, who is certainly to be strongly suspected, is in touch with
+Burchill--I didn't tell you that I met him on the stairs at Calengrove
+Mansions this afternoon. Of course, he was going to see my next-door
+neighbour! What about, friend Carver?"
+
+"If you could answer your own last question, we should know something,"
+replied Carver.
+
+"We know something as it is," said Triffitt. "Enough for me to tell
+Markledew, anyway. I don't see so far into all this, myself, but
+Markledew's the sort of chap who can look through three brick walls and
+see a mole at work in whatever's behind the third, and he'll see
+something in what I tell him, and I'll do the telling as soon as he
+comes down tomorrow morning."
+
+Markledew listened to Triffitt's story next day in his usual rapt
+silence. The silence remained unbroken for some time after Triffitt had
+finished. And eventually Markledew got up from his elbow-chair and
+reached for his hat.
+
+"You can come with me," he said. "We'll just ride as far as New Scotland
+Yard."
+
+Triffitt felt himself turning pale. New Scotland Yard! Was he then to
+share his discoveries with officials? In spite of his awful veneration
+for the great man before him he could not prevent two words of
+despairing ejaculation escaping from his lips.
+
+"The police!"
+
+"Just so--the police," answered Markledew, calmly. "I mean to work this
+in connection with them. No need to alarm yourself, young man--I know
+what you're thinking. But you won't lose any 'kudos'--I'm quite
+satisfied with you so far. But we can't do without the police--and they
+may be glad of even a hint from us. Now run down and get a taxi-cab and
+I'll meet you outside."
+
+Triffitt had never been within the mazes of New Scotland Yard in his
+life, and had often wished that business would take him there. It was
+very soon plain to him, however, that his proprietor knew his way about
+the Criminal Investigation Department as well as he knew the _Argus_
+office. Markledew was quickly closeted with the high official who had
+seen Mr. Halfpenny and Mr. Tertius a few days previously; while they
+talked, Triffitt was left to kick his heels in a waiting-room. When he
+was eventually called in, he found not only the high official and
+Markledew, but another man whose name was presently given to him as
+Davidge.
+
+"Mr. Davidge," observed the high official, "is in charge of this case.
+Will you just tell him your story?"
+
+It appeared to Triffitt that Mr. Davidge was the least impressionable,
+most stolid man he had ever known. Davidge showed no sign of interest;
+Triffitt began to wonder if anything could ever surprise him. He
+listened in dead silence to all that the reporter had to say; when
+Triffitt had finished he looked apathetically at his superior.
+
+"I think, sir, I will just step round to Mr. Halfpenny's office," he
+remarked. "Perhaps Mr. Triffitt will accompany me?--then he and I can
+have a bit of a talk."
+
+Triffitt looked at Markledew: Markledew nodded his big head.
+
+"Go with him," said Markledew. "Work with him! He knows what he's
+after."
+
+Davidge took Triffitt away to Mr. Halfpenny's office--on the way thither
+he talked about London fogs, one of which had come down that morning.
+But he never mentioned the business in hand until--having left Triffitt
+outside while he went in--he emerged from Mr. Halfpenny's room. Then he
+took the reporter's arm and led him away, and his manner changed to one
+of interest and even enthusiasm.
+
+"Well, young fellow!" he said, leading Triffitt down the street, "you're
+the chap I wanted to get hold of!--you're a godsend. And so you really
+have a flat next to that occupied by the person whom we'll refer to as
+F. B., eh?"
+
+"I have," answered Triffitt, who was full of wonderment.
+
+"Good--good!--couldn't be better!" murmured the detective. "Now then--I
+dare say you'd be quite pleased if I called on you at your flat--quietly
+and unobtrusively--at say seven o'clock tonight, eh?"
+
+"Delighted!" answered Triffitt. "Of course!"
+
+"Very good," said Davidge. "Then at seven o'clock tonight I shall be
+there. In the meantime--not a word. You're curious to know why I'm
+coming? All right--keep your curiosity warm till I come--I'll satisfy
+it. Tonight, mind, young man--seven, sharp!"
+
+Then he gave Triffitt's arm a squeeze and winked an eye at him, and at
+once set off in one direction, while the reporter, mystified and
+inquisitive, turned in another.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+THE DESERTED FLAT
+
+
+When Triffitt had fairly separated from the detective and had come to
+reckon up the events of that morning he became definitely conscious of
+one indisputable fact. The police knew more than he did. The police were
+in possession of information which had not come his way. The police were
+preparing some big _coup_. Therefore--the police would get all the
+glory.
+
+This was not what Triffitt had desired. He had wanted to find things out
+for himself, to make a grand discovery, to be able to go to Markledew
+and prove his case. Markledew could then have done what he pleased; it
+had always been in Triffitt's mind that Markledew would in all
+probability present the result of his reporter's labours to the people
+at Scotland Yard. But Markledew had become somewhat previous--he had
+insisted that Triffitt should talk to the Scotland Yard folk at this
+early--in Triffitt's view, much too early--stage of the proceedings. And
+Triffitt had felt all the time he was talking that he was only telling
+the high official and the apathetic Davidge something that they already
+knew. He had told them about his memories of Bentham and the Scottish
+murder trial--something convinced him that they were already well
+acquainted with that story. He had narrated the incident of the taxi-cab
+driver: he was sure that they were quite well aware that the man who had
+been driven from Orchard Street to St. Mary Abbot church that morning
+after the murder was Barthorpe Herapath. Their cold eyes and polite, yet
+almost chillingly indifferent manner had convinced Triffitt that they
+were just listening to something with which they were absolutely
+familiar. Never a gleam of interest had betrayed itself in their stolid
+official faces until he had referred to the fact that he himself was
+living in a flat next door to Burchill's. Then, indeed, the detective
+had roused himself almost to eagerness, and now he was coming to see
+him, Triffitt, quietly and unobtrusively. Why?
+
+"All the same," mused Triffitt, "I shall maybe prove a small cog in the
+bigger mechanism, and that's something. And Markledew was satisfied,
+anyway, so far. And if I don't get something out of that chap Davidge
+tonight, write me down an ass!"
+
+From half-past six that evening, Triffitt, who had previously made some
+ingenious arrangements with the slit of his letter-box, by which he could
+keep an eye on the corridor outside, kept watch on Burchill's door--he
+had an instinctive notion that Davidge, when he arrived, would be glad to
+know whether the gentleman opposite was in or out. At a quarter to seven
+Burchill went out in evening dress, cloak, and opera hat, making a fine
+figure as he struck the light of the corridor lamp. And ten minutes later
+Triffitt heard steps coming along the corridor and he opened the door
+to confront Davidge and another man, a quiet-looking, innocent-visaged
+person. Davidge waved a hand towards his companion.
+
+"Evening, Mr. Triffitt," said he. "Friend of mine--Mr. Milsey. You'll
+excuse the liberty, I'm sure."
+
+"Glad to see both of you," answered Triffitt, cordially. He led the way
+into his sitting-room, drew chairs forward, and produced refreshments
+which he had carefully laid in during the afternoon in preparation.
+"Drop of whisky and soda, gentlemen?" he said, hospitably. "Let me help
+you. Will you try a cigar?"
+
+"Very kind of you," replied Davidge. "A slight amount of the liquid'll
+do us no harm, but no cigars, thank you, Mr. Triffitt. Cigars are apt to
+leave a scent, an odour, about one's clothes, however careful you may
+be, and we don't want to leave any traces of our presence where we're
+going, do we, Jim?"
+
+"Not much," assented Mr. Milsey, laconically. "Wouldn't do."
+
+Triffitt handed round the glasses and took a share himself.
+
+"Ah!" he said. "That's interesting! And where are you going, now--if one
+may ask?"
+
+Davidge nodded his desires for his host's good health, and then gave him
+a wink.
+
+"We propose to go in there," he said with a jerk of his thumb towards
+Burchill's flat. "It's what I've been wanting to do for three or four
+days, but I didn't see my way clear without resorting to a lot of
+things--search-warrant, and what not--and it would have meant collusion
+with the landlord here, and the clerk downstairs, and I don't know what
+all, so I put it off a bit. But when you told me that you'd got this
+flat, why, then, I saw my way! Of course, I've been familiar with the
+lie of these flats for a week--I saw the plans of 'em downstairs as soon
+as I started on to this job."
+
+"You've been on this job from the beginning, then--in connection with
+him?" exclaimed Triffitt, nodding towards the door.
+
+"We've never had him out of our sight since I started," replied Davidge,
+coolly, "except when he's been within his own four walls--where we're
+presently going. Oh, yes--we've watched him."
+
+"He's out now," remarked Triffitt.
+
+"We know that," said Davidge. "We know where he's gone. There's a first
+night, a new play, at the Terpsichoreum--he's gone there. He's safe
+enough till midnight, so we've plenty of time. We just want to have a
+look around his little nest while he's off it, d'you see?"
+
+"How are you going to get in?" asked Triffitt.
+
+Davidge nodded towards the window of the sitting-room.
+
+"By way of that balcony," he answered. "I told you I knew all about how
+these flats are arranged. That balcony's mighty convenient, for the
+window'll not be any more difficult than ordinary."
+
+"It'll be locked, you know," observed Triffitt, with a glance at his
+own. "Mine is, anyway, and you can bet his will be, too."
+
+"Oh--that doesn't matter," said Davidge, carelessly. "We're prepared.
+Show Mr. Triffitt your kit, Jim--all pals here."
+
+The innocent-looking Mr. Milsey, who, during this conversation, had
+mechanically sipped at his whisky and soda and reflectively gazed at the
+various pictures with which the absent Mr. Stillwater had decorated the
+walls of his parlour, plunged a hand into some deep recess in his
+overcoat and brought out an oblong case which reminded Triffitt of
+nothing so much as those Morocco or Russian-leather affairs in which a
+knife, a fork, and a spoon repose on padded blue satin and form an
+elegant present to a newly-born infant. Mr. Milsey snapped open the lid
+of his case, and revealed, instead of spoon or fork or knife a number of
+shining keys, of all sorts and sizes and strange patterns, all of
+delicate make and of evidently superior workmanship. He pushed the case
+across the table to the corner at which Triffitt was sitting, and
+Davidge regarded it fondly in transit.
+
+"Pretty things, ain't they?" he said. "Good workmanship there! There's
+not very much that you could lock up--in the ordinary way of drawers,
+boxes, desks, and so on--that Milsey there couldn't get into with the
+help of one or other of those little friends--what, Jim?"
+
+"Nothing!--always excepting a safe," assented Mr. Milsey.
+
+"Well, we don't suppose our friend next door keeps an article of that
+description on his premises," said Davidge cheerfully. "But we expect
+he's got a desk, or a private drawer, or something of that nature in
+which we may find a few little matters of interest and importance--it's
+curious, Mr. Triffitt--we're constantly taking notice of it in the
+course of our professional duties--it's curious how men will keep by
+them bits of paper that they ought to throw into the fire, and objects
+that they'd do well to cast into the Thames! Ah!--I've known one case in
+which a mere scrap of a letter hanged a man, and another in which a bit
+of string got a chap fifteen years of the very best--fact, sir! You
+never know what you may come across during a search."
+
+"You're going to search his rooms?" asked Triffitt.
+
+"Something of that sort," replied Davidge. "Just a look round, you know,
+and a bit of a peep into his private receptacles."
+
+"Then--you're suspecting him in connection with this----" began
+Triffitt.
+
+Davidge stopped him with a look, and slowly drank off the contents of
+his glass. Then he rose.
+
+"We'll talk of those matters later," he said significantly. "Now that my
+gentleman's safely away I think we'll set to work. It'll take a bit of
+time. And first of all, Mr. Triffitt, we'll examine your balcony door--I
+know enough about these modern flats to know that everything's pretty
+much alike in them as regards fittings, and if your door's easy to open,
+so will the door of the next be. Now we'll just let Jim there go outside
+with his apparatus, and we'll lock your balcony door on him, and then
+see if he finds any difficulty in getting in. To it, Jim!"
+
+Mr. Milsey, thus adjured, went out on the balcony with his little case
+and was duly locked out. Within two minutes he opened the door and
+stepped in with a satisfied grin.
+
+"Easy as winking!" said Mr. Milsey. "It's what you might call one of
+your penny plain locks, this--and t'other'll be like it. No difficulty
+about this job, anyway."
+
+"Then we'll get to work," said Davidge. "Mr. Triffitt, I can't ask you
+to come with us, because that wouldn't be according to etiquette. Sit
+you down and read your book and smoke your pipe and drink your drop--and
+maybe we'll have something to tell you when our job's through."
+
+"You've no fear of interruption?" asked Triffitt, who would vastly have
+preferred action to inaction. "Supposing--you know how things do and
+will turn out sometimes--supposing he came back?"
+
+Davidge shook his head and smiled grimly and knowingly.
+
+"No," he said. "He'll not come back--at least, if he did, we should be
+well warned. I've more than one man at work on this job, Mr. Triffitt,
+and if his lordship changed the course of his arrangements and returned
+this way, one of my chaps would keep him in conversation while another
+hurried up here to give us the office by a few taps on the outer door.
+No!--we're safe enough. Sit you down and don't bother about us. Come on,
+Jim--we'll get to it."
+
+Triffitt tried to follow the detective's advice--he was just then deep
+in a French novel of the high-crime order, and he picked it up when the
+two men had gone out on the balcony and endeavoured to get interested in
+it. But he speedily discovered that the unravelling of crime on paper
+was nothing like so fascinating as the actual participation in detection
+of crime in real life, and he threw the book aside and gave himself up
+to waiting. What were those two doing in Burchill's rooms? What were
+they finding? What would the result be?
+
+Certainly Davidge and his man took their time. Eight o'clock came and
+went--nine o'clock, ten o'clock followed and sped into the past, and
+they were still there. It was drawing near to eleven, and they had been
+in those rooms well over three hours, when a slight sound came at
+Triffitt's window and Davidge put his head in, to be presently followed
+by Milsey. Milsey looked as innocent as ever, but it seemed to Triffitt
+that Davidge looked grave.
+
+"Well?" said Triffitt. "Any luck?"
+
+Davidge drew the curtains over the balcony window before he turned and
+answered this question.
+
+"Mr. Triffitt," he said, when at last he faced round, "you'll have to
+put us up for the night. After what I've found, I'm not going to lose
+sight, or get out of touch with this man. Now listen, and I'll tell you,
+at any rate, something. Tomorrow morning at ten o'clock there's to be a
+sort of informal inquiry at Mr. Halfpenny's office into the matter of a
+will of the date of Jacob Herapath's--all the parties concerned are
+going to meet there, and I know that this man Burchill is to be present.
+I don't propose to lose sight of him after he returns here tonight
+until he goes to that office--what happens after he's once there, you
+shall see. So Milsey and I'll just have to trouble you to let me stop
+here for the night. You can go to your bed, of course--we'll sit up.
+I'll send Milsey out to buy a bit of supper for us--I dare say he'll
+find something open close by."
+
+"No need," Triffitt hastened to say. "I've a cold meat pie, uncut, and
+plenty of bread, and cheese. And there's bottled ale, and whisky, and
+I'll get you some supper ready at once. So"--he went on, as he began to
+bustle about--"you did find--something?"
+
+Davidge rubbed his hands and winked first at Milsey and then at
+Triffitt.
+
+"Wait till tomorrow!" he said. "There'll be strange news for you
+newspaper gentlemen before tomorrow night."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+YEA AND NAY
+
+
+Mr. Halfpenny, face to face with the fact that Barthorpe Herapath meant
+mischief about the will, put on his thinking-cap and gave himself up to
+a deep and serious consideration of the matter. He thought things over
+as he journeyed home to his house in the country; he spent an evening in
+further thought; he was still thinking when he went up to town next
+morning. The result of his cogitations was that after giving certain
+instructions in his office as to the next steps to be taken towards duly
+establishing Jacob Herapath's will, he went round to Barthorpe
+Herapath's office and asked to see him.
+
+Barthorpe himself came out of his private room and showed some
+politeness in ushering his caller within. His manner seemed to be
+genuinely frank and unaffected: Mr. Halfpenny was considerably puzzled
+by it. Was Barthorpe playing a part, or was all this real? That, of
+course, must be decided by events: Mr. Halfpenny was not going to lose
+any time in moving towards them, whatever they might turn out to be. He
+accordingly went straight to the point.
+
+"My dear sir," he began, bending confidentially towards Barthorpe, who
+had taken a seat at his desk and was waiting for his visitor to speak,
+"you have entered a caveat against the will in the Probate Registry."
+
+"I have," answered Barthorpe, with candid alacrity. "Of course!"
+
+"You intend to contest the matter?" inquired Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"Certainly!" replied Barthorpe.
+
+Mr. Halfpenny gathered a good deal from the firm and decisive tone in
+which this answer was made. Clearly there was something in the air of
+which he was wholly ignorant.
+
+"You no doubt believe that you have good reason for your course of
+action," he observed.
+
+"The best reasons," said Barthorpe.
+
+Mr. Halfpenny ruminated a little, silently.
+
+"After all," he said at last, "there are only two persons really
+concerned--your cousin, Miss Wynne, and yourself. I propose to make an
+offer to you."
+
+"Always willing to be reasonable, Mr. Halfpenny," answered Barthorpe.
+
+"Very good," said Mr. Halfpenny. "Of course, I see no possible reason for
+doubting the validity of the will. From our side, litigation must go on in
+the usual course. But I have a proposal to make to you. It is this--will
+you meet your cousin at my office, with all the persons--witnesses to the
+will, I mean--and state your objections to the will? In short, let us
+have what we may call a family discussion about it--it may prevent much
+litigation."
+
+Barthorpe considered this suggestion for a while.
+
+"What you really mean is that I should come to your offices and tell my
+cousin and you why I am fighting this will," he said eventually. "That
+it?"
+
+"Practically--yes," assented Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"Whom do you propose to have present?" asked Barthorpe.
+
+"Yourself, your cousin, myself, the two witnesses, and, as a friend of
+everybody concerned, Professor Cox-Raythwaite," replied Mr. Halfpenny.
+"No one else is necessary."
+
+"And you wish me to tell, plainly, why I refuse to believe that the will
+is genuine?" asked Barthorpe.
+
+"Certainly--yes," assented Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+Barthorpe hesitated, eyeing the old lawyer doubtfully.
+
+"It will be a painful business--for my cousin," he said.
+
+"If--I really haven't the faintest notion of what you mean!" exclaimed
+Mr. Halfpenny. "But if--if it will be painful for your cousin to hear
+this--whatever it is--in private, it would be much more painful for her
+to hear it in public. I gather, of course, that you have some strange
+revelation to make. Surely, it would be most considerate to her to make
+it in what we may call the privacy of the family circle, Cox-Raythwaite
+and myself."
+
+"I haven't the least objection to Cox-Raythwaite's presence, nor yours,"
+said Barthorpe. "Very good--I'll accept your proposal--it will, as you
+say, save a lot of litigation. Now--when?"
+
+"Today is Tuesday," said Mr. Halfpenny. "What do you say to next Friday
+morning, at ten o'clock?"
+
+"Friday will do," answered Barthorpe. "I will be there at ten o'clock. I
+shall leave it to you to summon all the parties concerned. By the by,
+have you Burchill's address?"
+
+"I have," replied Mr. Halfpenny. "I will communicate with him at once."
+
+Barthorpe nodded, rose from his seat, and walked with his visitor
+towards the door of his private room.
+
+"Understand, Mr. Halfpenny," he said, "I'm agreeing to this to oblige
+you. And if the truth is very painful to my cousin, well, as you say,
+it's better for her to hear it in private than in a court of justice.
+All right, then--Friday at ten."
+
+Mr. Halfpenny went back to his own office, astonished and marvelling.
+What on earth were these revelations which Barthorpe hinted at--these
+unpleasant truths which would so wound and hurt Peggie Wynne? Could it
+be possible that there really was some mystery about that will of which
+only Barthorpe knew the secret? It was incomprehensible to Mr. Halfpenny
+that any man could be so cool, so apparently cocksure about matters as
+Barthorpe was unless he felt absolutely certain of his own case. What
+that case could be, Mr. Halfpenny could not imagine--the only thing
+really certain was that Barthorpe seemed resolved on laying it bare when
+Friday came.
+
+"God bless me!--it's a most extraordinary complication altogether!"
+mused Mr. Halfpenny, once more alone in his own office. "It's very
+evident to me that Barthorpe Herapath is absolutely ignorant that he's
+suspected, and that the police are at work on him! What a surprise for
+him if the thing comes to a definite head, and--but let us see what
+Friday morning brings."
+
+Friday morning brought Barthorpe to Mr. Halfpenny's offices in good
+time. He came alone; a few minutes after his arrival Peggie Wynne,
+nervous and frightened, came, attended by Mr. Tertius and Professor
+Cox-Raythwaite. All these people were at once ushered into Mr.
+Halfpenny's private room, where polite, if constrained, greetings
+passed. At five minutes past ten o'clock Mr. Halfpenny looked at
+Barthorpe.
+
+"We're only waiting for Mr. Burchill," he remarked. "I wrote to him
+after seeing you, and I received a reply from him in which he promised
+to be here at ten this morning. It's now----"
+
+But at that moment the door opened to admit Mr. Frank Burchill, who, all
+unconscious of the fact that more than one pair of sharp eyes had
+followed him from his flat to Mr. Halfpenny's office, and that their
+owners were now in the immediate vicinity, came in full of polite
+self-assurance, and executed formal bows while he gracefully apologised
+to Mr. Halfpenny for being late.
+
+"It's all right, all right, Mr. Burchill," said the old lawyer, a little
+testy under the last-comer's polite phrases, all of which he thought
+unnecessary. "Five or ten minutes won't make any great difference. Take
+a seat, pray: I think if we all sit around this centre table of mine it
+will be more convenient. We can begin at once now, Mr. Barthorpe
+Herapath--I have already given strict instructions that we are not to be
+disturbed, on any account. My dear--perhaps you will sit here by
+me?--Mr. Tertius, you sit next to Miss Wynne--Professor----"
+
+Mr. Halfpenny's dispositions of his guests placed Peggie and her two
+companions on one side of a round table; Barthorpe and Burchill at the
+other--Mr. Halfpenny himself sat at the head. And as soon as he had
+taken his own seat, he looked at Barthorpe.
+
+"This, of course," he began, "is a quite informal meeting. We are here,
+as I understand matters, to hear why you, Mr. Barthorpe Herapath, object
+to your late uncle's will, and why you intend to dispute it. So I
+suppose the next thing to do will be to ask you to state your grounds."
+
+But Barthorpe shook his head with a decisive motion.
+
+"No," he answered. "Not at all! The first thing to do, Mr. Halfpenny, in
+my opinion, is to hear what is to be said in favour of the will. The
+will itself, I take it, is in your possession. I have seen it--I mean, I
+have seen the document which purports to be a will of the late Jacob
+Herapath--so I admit its existence. Two persons are named on that
+document as witnesses: Mr. Tertius, Mr. Burchill. They are both present
+now; at your request. I submit that the proper procedure is to question
+them both as to the circumstances under which this alleged will was
+made."
+
+"I have no objections to that," answered Mr. Halfpenny. "I have no
+objection--neither, I am sure, has Miss Wynne--to anything you propose.
+Well, we take it for granted that this document exists--it is, of
+course, in my safe keeping. Every person has seen it, one time or
+another. We have here the two gentlemen who witnessed Jacob Herapath's
+signature and each other's. So I will first ask the elder of the two to
+tell us what he recollects of the matter. Now, Mr. Tertius?"
+
+Mr. Tertius, who since his arrival had shown as much nervousness as
+would probably have signalised his appearance in a witness-box, started
+at this direct appeal.
+
+"You--er, wish me----" he began, with an almost blank stare at Mr.
+Halfpenny. "You want me to----"
+
+"Come, come!" said Mr. Halfpenny. "This is as I have already said, an
+informal gathering. We needn't have any set forms or cut-and-dried
+procedure. I want you--we all want you--to tell us what you remember
+about the making of Jacob Herapath's will. Tell us in your own way, in
+whatever terms you like. Then we shall hear what your fellow-witness has
+to say."
+
+"Perhaps you'll let me suggest something," broke in Barthorpe, who had
+obviously been thinking matters over. "Lay the alleged will on the table
+before you, Mr. Halfpenny--question the two opposed witnesses on it.
+That will simplify things."
+
+Mr. Halfpenny considered this proposition for a moment or two; then
+having whispered to Peggie and received her assent, he went across to a
+safe and presently returned with the will, which he placed on a
+writing-pad that lay in front of him.
+
+"Now, Mr. Tertius," he said. "Look at this will, which purports to have
+been made on the eighteenth day of April last. I understand that Jacob
+Herapath called you into his study on the evening of that day and told
+you that he wanted you and Mr. Burchill, his secretary, to witness his
+signature to a will which he had made--had written out himself. I
+understand also that you did witness his signature, attached your own,
+in Mr. Herapath's presence and Mr. Burchill's presence, and that Mr.
+Burchill's signature was attached under the same conditions. Am I right
+in all this?"
+
+"Quite right," replied Mr. Tertius. "Quite!"
+
+"Is this the document which Jacob Herapath produced?"
+
+"It is--certainly."
+
+"Was it all drawn out then?--I am putting these questions to you quite
+informally."
+
+"It was all written out, except the signatures. Jacob showed us that it
+was so written, though he did not allow us to see the wording. But he
+showed us plainly that there was nothing to do but to sign. Then he laid
+it on the desk, covered most of the sheet of paper with a piece of
+blotting paper and signed his name in our presence--I stood on one side
+of him, Mr. Burchill on the other. Then Mr. Burchill signed in his
+place--beneath mine."
+
+"And this," asked Mr. Halfpenny, pointing to the will, "this is your
+signature?"
+
+"Most certainly!" answered Mr. Tertius.
+
+"And this," continued Mr. Halfpenny, "is Jacob Herapath's?--and this Mr.
+Burchill's? You have no doubt about it?"
+
+"No more than that I see and hear you," replied Mr. Tertius. "I have no
+doubt."
+
+Mr. Halfpenny turned from Mr. Tertius to Barthorpe Herapath. But
+Barthorpe's face just then revealed nothing. Therefore the old lawyer
+turned towards Burchill. And suddenly a sharp idea struck him. He would
+settle one point to his own satisfaction at once, by one direct
+question. And so he--as it were by impulse--thrust the will before and
+beneath Burchill's eyes, and placed his finger against the third
+signature.
+
+"Mr. Burchill," he said, "is that your writing?"
+
+Burchill, calm and self-possessed, glanced at the place which Mr.
+Halfpenny indicated, and then lifted his eyes, half sadly, half
+deprecatingly.
+
+"No!" he replied, with a little shake of the head; "No, Mr. Halfpenny, it
+is not!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+THE ACCUSATION
+
+
+The old lawyer, who had bent forward across the table in speaking to
+Burchill, pulled himself up sharply on receiving this answer, and for a
+second or two stared with a keen, searching gaze at the man he had
+questioned, who, on his part, returned the stare with calm assurance. A
+deep silence had fallen on the room; nothing broke it until Professor
+Cox-Raythwaite suddenly began to tap the table with the ends of his
+fingers. The sound roused Mr. Halfpenny to speech and action. He bent
+forward again towards Burchill, once more laying a hand on the will.
+
+"That is not your signature?" he asked quietly.
+
+Burchill shook his head--this time with a gesture of something very like
+contempt.
+
+"It is not!" he answered.
+
+"Did you see the late Jacob Herapath write--that?"
+
+"I did not!"
+
+"Did you see Mr. Tertius write--that?"
+
+"I did not!"
+
+"Have you ever seen this will, this document, before?"
+
+"Never!"
+
+Mr. Halfpenny drew the will towards himself with an impatient movement
+and began to replace it in the large envelope from which it had been
+taken.
+
+"In short, you never assisted at the execution of this document--never
+saw Jacob Herapath make any will--never witnessed any signature of his
+to this?" he said testily. "That's what you really say--what you
+affirm?"
+
+"Just so," replied Burchill. "You apprehend me exactly."
+
+"Yet you have just heard what Mr. Tertius says! What do you say to that,
+Mr. Burchill?"
+
+"I say nothing to that, Mr. Halfpenny. I have nothing to do with what
+Mr. Tertius says. I have answered your questions."
+
+"Mr. Tertius says that he and you saw Jacob Herapath sign that document,
+saw each other sign it! What you say now gives Mr. Tertius the direct
+lie, and----"
+
+"Pardon me, Mr. Halfpenny," interrupted Burchill quietly. "Mr. Tertius
+may be under some strange misapprehension; Mr. Tertius may be suffering
+from some curious hallucination. What I say is--I did not see the late
+Jacob Herapath sign that paper; I did not sign it myself; I did not see
+Mr. Tertius sign it; I have never seen it before!"
+
+Mr. Halfpenny made a little snorting sound, got up from his chair,
+picked up the envelope which contained the will, walked over to his
+safe, deposited the envelope in some inner receptacle, came back,
+produced his snuff-box, took a hearty pinch of its contents, snorted
+again, and looked hard at Barthorpe.
+
+"I don't see the least use in going on with this!" he said. "We have
+heard what Mr. Tertius, as one witness, says; we have heard what Mr.
+Frank Burchill, as the other witness, says. Mr. Tertius says that he saw
+the will executed in Mr. Burchill's presence; Mr. Burchill denies that
+in the fullest and most unqualified fashion. Why waste more time? We had
+better separate."
+
+But Barthorpe laughed, maliciously.
+
+"Scarcely!" he said. "You brought us here. It was your own proposal. I
+assented. And now that we are here, and you have heard--what you have
+heard--I'm going to have my say. You have gone, all along, Mr.
+Halfpenny, on the assumption that the piece of paper which you have just
+replaced in your safe is a genuine will. That's what you've said--I
+believe it's what you say now. I don't say so!"
+
+"What do you say it is, then?" demanded Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+Barthorpe slightly lowered his voice.
+
+"I say it's a forgery!" he answered. "That, I hope, is plain language. A
+forgery--from the first word to its last."
+
+"Oh!" exclaimed Mr. Halfpenny, a little sneeringly. "And who's the
+forger, pray?"
+
+"That man, there!" said Barthorpe, suddenly pointing to Mr. Tertius.
+"He's the forger! I accuse him to his face of forging every word, every
+letter of it from the first stroke to the final one. And I'll give you
+enough evidence to prove it--enough evidence, at any rate, to prove it
+to any reasonable man or before a judge and jury. Forgery, I tell you!"
+
+Mr. Halfpenny sat down again and became very calm and judicial. And he
+had at once to restrain Peggie Wynne, who during Barthorpe's last speech
+had manifested signs of a desire to speak, and had begun to produce a
+sealed packet from her muff.
+
+"Wait, my dear," said Mr. Halfpenny. "Do not speak just now--you shall
+have an opportunity later--leave this to me at present. So you say you
+can prove that this will is a forgery, Mr. Barthorpe Herapath?" he
+continued, turning to the other side of the table. "Very well--since I
+suggested that you should come here, you shall certainly have the
+opportunity. But just allow me to ask Mr. Tertius a question--Tertius,
+you have heard what Mr. Frank Burchill has just said?"
+
+"I have!" replied Mr. Tertius. "And--I am amazed!"
+
+"You stand by what you said yourself? You gave us a perfectly truthful
+account of the execution of the will?"
+
+"I stand by every word I said. I gave you--will give it again,
+anywhere!--a perfectly truthful account of the circumstances under which
+the will was signed and witnessed. I have made no mistakes--I am under
+no hallucination. I am--astonished!"
+
+Mr. Halfpenny turned to Barthorpe with a wave of the hand.
+
+"We are at your disposal, Mr. Barthorpe Herapath," he said. "I leave
+the rest of these proceedings to you. You have openly and unqualifiedly
+accused Mr. Tertius of forging the will which we have all seen, and have
+said you can prove your accusations. Perhaps you'd better do it. Mind
+you!" he added, with a sudden heightening of tone, "mind you, I'm not
+asking you to prove anything. But if I know Tertius--and I think I
+do--he won't object to your saying anything you like--we shall, perhaps,
+get at the truth by way of what you say. So--say on!"
+
+"You're very kind," retorted Barthorpe. "I shall say on! But--I warned
+you--what I've got to say will give a good deal of pain to my cousin
+there. It would have been far better if you'd kept her out of this--still,
+she'd have had to hear it sooner or later in a court of justice----"
+
+"It strikes me we shall have to hear a good deal in a court of
+justice--as you say, sooner or later," interrupted Mr. Halfpenny, dryly.
+"So I don't think you need spare Miss Wynne. I should advise you to go
+on, and let us become acquainted with what you've got to tell us."
+
+"Barthorpe!" said Peggie, "I do not mind what pain you give me--you
+can't give me much more than I've already been given this morning. But I
+wish"--she turned appealingly to Mr. Halfpenny and again began to draw
+the sealed packet from her muff--"I do wish, Mr. Halfpenny, you'd let me
+say something before----"
+
+"Say nothing, my dear, at present," commanded Mr. Halfpenny, firmly.
+"Allow Mr. Barthorpe Herapath to have his say. Now, sir!" he went on,
+with a motion of his hand towards the younger solicitor. "Pray let us
+hear you."
+
+"In my own fashion," retorted Barthorpe. "You're not a judge, you know.
+Very good--if I give pain to you, Peggie, it's not my fault. Now, Mr.
+Halfpenny," he continued, turning and pointing contemptuously to Mr.
+Tertius, "as this is wholly informal, I'll begin with an informal yet
+pertinent question, to you. Do you know who that man really is?"
+
+"I believe that gentleman, sir, to be Mr. John Christopher Tertius, and
+my very good and much-esteemed friend," replied Mr. Halfpenny, with
+asperity.
+
+"Pshaw!" sneered Barthorpe. He turned to Professor Cox-Raythwaite. "I'll
+put the same question to you?" he said. "Do you know who he is?"
+
+"And I give you the same answer, sir," answered the professor.
+
+"No doubt!" said Barthorpe, still sneeringly. "The fact is, neither of
+you know who he is. So I'll tell you. He's an ex-convict. He served a
+term of penal servitude for forgery--forgery, do you hear? And his real
+name is not Tertius. What it is, and who he really is, and all about
+him, I'm going to tell you. Forger--ex-convict--get that into your
+minds, all of you. For it's true!"
+
+Mr. Tertius, who had started visibly as Barthorpe rapped out the first
+of his accusations, and had grown paler as they went on, quietly rose
+from his chair.
+
+"Before this goes further, Halfpenny," he said, "I should like to have a
+word in private with Miss Wynne. Afterwards--and I shan't detain her
+more than a moment--I shall have no objection to hearing anything that
+Mr. Barthorpe Herapath has to say. My dear!--step this way with me a
+moment, I beg."
+
+Mr. Halfpenny's private room was an apartment of considerable size,
+having in it two large recessed windows. Into one of these Mr. Tertius
+led Peggie, and there he spoke a few quiet words to her. Barthorpe
+Herapath affected to take no notice, but the other men, watching them
+closely, saw the girl start at something which Mr. Tertius said. But she
+instantly regained her self-possession and composure, and when she came
+back to the table her face, though pale, was firm and resolute. And
+Barthorpe looked at her then, and his voice, when he spoke again, was
+less aggressive and more civil.
+
+"It's not to my taste to bring unpleasant family scandals into public
+notice," he said, "and that's why I rather welcomed your proposal that
+we should discuss this affair in private, Mr. Halfpenny. And now for
+what I've got to tell you. I shall have to go back a long way in our
+family history. My late uncle, Jacob Herapath, was the eldest of the
+three children of his father, Matthew Herapath, who was a medical
+practitioner at Granchester in Yorkshire--a small town on the Yorkshire
+and Lancashire border. The three children were Jacob, Richard, and
+Susan. With the main outlines of Jacob Herapath's career I believe we
+are all fairly well acquainted. He came to London as a youth, and he
+prospered, and became what we know him to have been. Richard, my father,
+went out to Canada, when he was very young, settled there, and there he
+died.
+
+"Now we come to Susan, the only daughter. Susan Herapath, at the age of
+twenty, married a man named Wynne--Arthur John Wynne, who at that time
+was about twenty-five years of age, was the secretary and treasurer of a
+recently formed railway--a sort of branch railway on the coast, which
+had its head office at Southampton, a coast town. In Southampton, this
+Arthur John Wynne and his wife settled down. At the end of a year their
+first child was born--my cousin Margaret, who is here with us. When
+she--I am putting all this as briefly as I can--when she was about
+eighteen months old a sad affair happened. Wynne, who had been living in
+a style very much above his position, was suddenly arrested on a charge
+of forgery. Investigations proved that he had executed a number of most
+skilful and clever forgeries, by which he had defrauded his employers of
+a large--a very large--amount of money. He was sent for trial to the
+assizes at Lancaster, he was found guilty, and he was sentenced to seven
+years' penal servitude. And almost at once after the trial his wife
+died.
+
+"Here my late uncle, Jacob Herapath, came forward. He went north,
+assumed possession and guardianship of the child, and took her away from
+Southampton. He took her into Buckinghamshire and there placed her in
+the care of some people named Bristowe, who were farmers near Aylesbury
+and whom he knew very well. In the care of Mrs. Bristowe, the child
+remained until she was between six and seven years old. Then she was
+removed to Jacob Herapath's own house in Portman Square, where she has
+remained ever since. My cousin, I believe, has a very accurate
+recollection of her residence with the Bristowes, and she will remember
+being brought from Buckinghamshire to London at the time I have spoken
+of."
+
+Barthorpe paused for a moment and looked at Peggie. But Peggie, who was
+listening intently with downcast head, made no remark, and he presently
+continued.
+
+"Now, not so very long after that--I mean, after the child was brought
+to Portman Square--another person came to the house as a permanent
+resident. His name was given to the servants as Mr. Tertius. The
+conditions of his residence were somewhat peculiar. He had rooms of his
+own; he did as he liked. Sometimes he joined Jacob Herapath at meals;
+sometimes he did not. There was an air of mystery about him. What was
+it? I will tell you in a word--the mystery or its secret, was this--the
+man Tertius, who sits there now, was in reality the girl's father! He
+was Arthur John Wynne, the ex-convict--the clever forger!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+COLD STEEL
+
+
+The two men who formed what one may call the alien and impartial audience
+at that table were mutually and similarly impressed by a certain feature
+of Barthorpe Herapath's speech--its exceeding malevolence. As he went on
+from sentence to sentence, his eyes continually turned to Mr. Tertius,
+who sat, composed and impassive, listening, and in them was a gleam
+which could not be mistaken--the gleam of bitter, personal dislike. Mr.
+Halfpenny and Professor Cox-Raythwaite both saw that look and drew their
+own conclusions, and when Barthorpe spat out his last words, the man of
+science turned to the man of law and muttered a sharp sentence in Latin
+which no one else caught. And Mr. Halfpenny nodded and muttered a word
+or two back before he turned to Barthorpe.
+
+"Even supposing--mind, I only say supposing--even supposing you are
+correct in all you say--and I don't know that you are," he said, "what you
+have put before us does nothing to prove that the will which we have just
+inspected is not what we believe it to be--we, at any rate--the valid will
+of Jacob Herapath. You know as well as I do that you'd have to give
+stronger grounds than that before a judge and jury."
+
+"I'll give you my grounds," answered Barthorpe eagerly. He bent over the
+table in his eagerness, and the old lawyer suddenly realized that
+Barthorpe genuinely believed himself to be in the right. "I'll give you
+my grounds without reserve. Consider them--I'll check them off, point by
+point--you can follow them:
+
+"First. It was well known--to me, at any rate, that my uncle Jacob
+Herapath, had never made a will.
+
+"Second. Is it not probable that if he wanted to make a will he would
+have employed me, who had acted as his solicitor for fifteen years?
+
+"Third. I had a conversation with him about making a will just under a
+year ago, and he then said he'd have it done, and he mentioned that he
+should divide his estate equally between me and my cousin there.
+
+"Fourth. Mr. Burchill here absolutely denies all knowledge of this
+alleged will.
+
+"Fifth. My uncle's handwriting, as you all know, was exceedingly plain
+and very easy to imitate. Burchill's handwriting is similarly plain--of
+the copperplate sort--and just as easy to imitate.
+
+"Sixth. That man across there is an expert forger! I have the account of
+his trial at Lancaster Assizes--the evidence shows that his work was most
+expert. Is it likely that his hand should have lost its cunning--even
+after several years?
+
+"Seventh. That man there had every opportunity of forging this will.
+With his experience and knowledge it would be a simple matter to him. He
+did it with the idea of getting everything into the hands of his own
+daughter, of defrauding me of my just rights. Since my uncle's death he
+has made two attempts to see Burchill privately--why? To square him, of
+course! And----"
+
+Mr. Tertius, who had been gazing at the table while Barthorpe went
+through these points, suddenly lifted his head and looked at Mr.
+Halfpenny. His usual nervousness seemed to have left him, and there was
+something very like a smile of contempt about his lips when he spoke.
+
+"I think, Halfpenny," he said quietly, "I really think it is time all
+this extraordinary farce--for it is nothing less!--came to an end. May I
+be permitted to ask Mr. Barthorpe Herapath a few questions?"
+
+"So far as I am concerned, as many as you please, Tertius," replied Mr.
+Halfpenny. "Whether he'll answer them or not is another matter. He ought
+to."
+
+"I shall answer them if I please, and I shall not answer them if I don't
+want to," said Barthorpe sullenly. "You can put them, anyway. But
+they'll make no difference--I know what I'm talking about."
+
+"So do I," said Mr. Tertius. "And really, as we come here to get at the
+truth, it will be all the better for everybody concerned if you do
+answer my questions. Now--you say I am in reality Arthur Wynne, the
+father of your cousin, the brother-in-law of Jacob Herapath. What you
+have said about Arthur John Wynne is unfortunately only too true. It is
+true that he erred and was punished--severely. In due course he went to
+Portland. I want to ask you what became of him afterwards?--you say you
+have full knowledge."
+
+"You mean, what became of you afterwards," sneered Barthorpe. "I know
+when you left Portland. You left it for London--and you came to London
+to be sheltered, under your assumed name, by Jacob Herapath."
+
+"No more than that?" asked Mr. Tertius.
+
+"That's enough," answered Barthorpe. "You left Portland in April, 1897;
+you came to London when you were discharged; in June of that year you'd
+taken up your residence under Jacob Herapath's roof. And it's no use
+your trying to bluff me--I've traced your movements!"
+
+"With the aid, no doubt, of Mr. Burchill there," observed Mr. Tertius,
+dryly. "But----"
+
+Burchill drew himself up.
+
+"Sir!" he exclaimed. "That is an unwarrantable assumption, and----"
+
+"Unwarrantable assumptions, Mr. Burchill, appear to be present in great
+quantity," interrupted Mr. Tertius, with an air of defiance which
+surprised everybody. "Don't you interrupt me, sir!--I'll deal with you
+before long in a way that will astonish you. Now, Mr. Barthorpe
+Herapath," he went on, turning to that person with determination, "I
+will astonish you somewhat, for I honestly believe you really have some
+belief in what you say. I am not Arthur John Wynne. I am what I have
+always been--John Christopher Tertius, as a considerable number of
+people in this town can prove. But I knew Arthur John Wynne. When he
+left Portland he came to me here in London--at the suggestion of Jacob
+Herapath. I then lived in Bloomsbury--I had recently lost my wife. I
+took Wynne to live with me. But he had not long to live. If you had
+searched into matters more deeply, you would have found that he got his
+discharge earlier than he would have done in the usual course, because
+of his health. As a matter of fact, he was very ill when he came to me,
+and he died six weeks after his arrival at my house. He is buried in the
+churchyard of the village from which he originally came--in Wales--and
+you can inspect all the documents relating to his death, and see his
+grave if you care to. After his death, for reasons into which I need not
+go, I went to live with Jacob Herapath. It was his great desire--and
+mine--that Wynne's daughter, your cousin, should never know her father's
+sad history. But for you she never would have known it! And--that is a
+plain answer to what you have had to allege against me. Now, sir, let me
+ask you a plain question. Who invented this cock-and-bull story? You
+don't reply--readily? Shall I assist you by a suggestion? Was it that
+man who sits by you--Burchill? For Burchill knows that he has lied
+vilely and shamelessly this morning--Burchill knows that he did see
+Jacob Herapath sign that will--Burchill knows that that will was duly
+witnessed by himself and by me in the presence of each other and of the
+testator! God bless my soul!" exclaimed Mr. Tertius, thumping the table
+vehemently. "Why, man alive, your cousin Margaret has a document here
+which proves that that will is all right--a document written by Jacob
+Herapath himself! Bring it out, my dear--confound these men with an
+indisputable proof!"
+
+But before Peggie could draw the packet from her muff, Burchill had
+risen and was showing signs of retreat. And Barthorpe, now pale with
+anger and perplexity, had risen too--and he was looking at Burchill.
+
+Mr. Halfpenny looked at both men. Then he pointed to their chairs.
+"Hadn't you better sit down again?" he said. "It seems to me that we're
+just arriving at the most interesting stage of these proceedings."
+
+Burchill stepped towards the door.
+
+"I do not propose to stay in company in which I am ruthlessly insulted,"
+he said. "It is, of course, a question of my word against Mr. Tertius's.
+We shall see. As for the present, I do."
+
+"Stop!" said Barthorpe. He moved towards Burchill, motioning him towards
+the window in which Peggie and Mr. Tertius had spoken together. "Here--a
+word with you!"
+
+But Burchill made for the door, and Mr. Halfpenny nudged Professor
+Cox-Raythwaite.
+
+"I say--stop!" exclaimed Barthorpe. "There's some explanation----"
+
+He was about to lay a hand on the door when Mr. Halfpenny touched a
+bell which stood in front of him on the table. And at its sharp sound
+the door opened from without, and Burchill fell back at what he
+saw--fell back upon Barthorpe, who looked past him, and started in his
+turn.
+
+"Great Scot!" said Barthorpe. "Police!"
+
+Davidge came quickly and quietly in--three other men with him. And in
+the room from which they emerged Barthorpe saw more men, many more men,
+and with them an eager, excited face which he somehow recognized--the
+face of the little _Argus_ reporter who had asked him and Selwood for
+news on the morning after Jacob Herapath's murder.
+
+But Barthorpe had no time to waste thoughts on Triffitt. He suddenly
+became alive to the fact that two exceedingly strong men had seized his
+arms; that two others had similarly seized Burchill. The pallor died out
+of his face and gave place to a dull glow of anger.
+
+"Now, then?" he growled. "What's all this!"
+
+"The same for both of you, Mr. Herapath," answered Davidge, cheerfully
+and in business-like fashion. "I'll charge both you and Mr. Burchill
+formally when we've got you to the station. You're both under arrest,
+you know. And I may as well warn you----"
+
+"Nonsense!" exclaimed Barthorpe. "Arrest!--on what charge?"
+
+"Charge will be the same for both," answered Davidge coolly. "The murder
+of Jacob Herapath."
+
+A dead silence fell on the room. Then Peggie Wynne cried out, and
+Barthorpe suddenly made a spring at Burchill.
+
+"You villain!" he said in a low concentrated voice. "You've done me, you
+devil! Let me get my hands on----"
+
+The other men, Triffitt on their heels, came bustling into the room,
+obedient to Davidge's lifted finger.
+
+"Put the handcuffs on both of 'em," commanded Davidge. "Can't take any
+chances, Mr. Herapath, if you lose your temper--the other gentleman----"
+
+It was at that moment that the other gentleman took his chance. While
+Barthorpe Herapath had foolishly allowed himself to become warm and
+excited, Burchill had remained cool and watchful and calculating. And now
+in the slight diversion made by the entrance of the other detectives, he
+suddenly and adroitly threw off the grasp of the men who held him, darted
+through the open door on to the stairs, and had vanished before Davidge
+could cry out. Davidge darted too, the other police darted, Mr. Halfpenny
+smote his bell and shouted to his clerks. But the clerks were downstairs,
+out of hearing, and the police were fleshy men, slow of movement, while
+Burchill was slippery as an eel and agile as an athlete. Moreover,
+Burchill, during his secretaryship to Jacob Herapath, had constantly
+visited Mr. Halfpenny's office, and was as well acquainted with its ins
+and outs as its tenant; he knew where, in those dark stairs there was
+a side stair which led to a private door in a neighbouring alley. And
+while the pursuers blundered this way and that, he calmly slipped out to
+freedom, and, in a couple of minutes was mingling with the crowds in a
+busy thoroughfare, safe for that time.
+
+Then Davidge, cursing his men and his luck, took Barthorpe Herapath away,
+and Triffitt rushed headlong to Fleet Street, seething with excitement and
+brimming with news.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+PROFESSIONAL ANALYSIS
+
+
+The _Argus_ came out in great style next morning, and it and Triffitt
+continued to give its vast circle of readers a similar feast of
+excitement for a good ten days. Triffitt, in fact, went almost foodless
+and sleepless; there was so much to do. To begin with, there was the
+daily hue and cry after Burchill, who had disappeared as completely as
+if his familiar evil spirits had carried him bodily away from the very
+door of Halfpenny and Farthing's office. Then there was the bringing up
+of Barthorpe Herapath before the magistrate at Bow Street, and the
+proceedings at the adjourned coroner's inquest. It was not until the
+tenth day that anything like a breathing space came. But the position of
+affairs on that tenth day was a fairly clear one. The coroner's jury had
+returned a verdict of wilful murder against Barthorpe Herapath and Frank
+Burchill; the magistrate had committed Barthorpe for trial; the police
+were still hunting high and low for Burchill. And there was scarcely a
+soul who had heard the evidence before the coroner and the magistrate
+who did not believe that both the suspected men were guilty and that
+both--when Burchill had been caught--would ere long stand in the Old
+Bailey dock and eventually hear themselves sentenced to the scaffold.
+
+One man, however, believed nothing of the sort, and that man was
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite. His big, burly form had been very much in
+evidence at all the proceedings before coroner and magistrate. He had
+followed every scrap of testimony with the most scrupulous care; he had
+made notes from time to time; he had given up his leisure moments, and
+stolen some from his proper pursuits, to a deep consideration of the
+case as presented by the police. And on the afternoon which saw
+Barthorpe committed to take his trial, he went away from Bow Street,
+alone, thinking more deeply than ever. He walked home to his house in
+Endsleigh Gardens, head bent, hands clasped behind his big back, the
+very incarnation of deep and ponderous musing. He shut himself in his
+study; he threw himself into his easy chair before his hearth; he
+remained smoking infinite tobacco, staring into vacancy, until his
+dinner-bell rang. He roused himself to eat and drink; then he went out
+into the street, bought all the evening newspapers he could lay hands
+on, and, hailing a taxi-cab, drove to Portman Square.
+
+Peggie, Mr. Tertius, and Selwood had just dined; they were sitting in a
+quiet little parlour, silent and melancholy. The disgrace of Barthorpe's
+arrest, of the revelations before coroner and magistrate, of his
+committal on the capital charge, had reduced Peggie to a state of
+intense misery; the two men felt hopelessly unable to give her any
+comfort. To both, the entrance of Cox-Raythwaite came as a positive
+relief.
+
+Cox-Raythwaite, shown into the presence of these three, closed the door
+in a fashion which showed that he did not wish to be disturbed, came
+silently across the room, and drew a chair into the midst of the
+disconsolate group. His glance round commanded attention.
+
+"Now, my friends," he said, plunging straight into his subject, "if we
+don't wish to see Barthorpe hanged, we've just got to stir ourselves!
+I've come here to begin the stirring."
+
+Peggie looked up with a sudden heightening of colour. Mr. Tertius slowly
+shook his head.
+
+"Pitiable!" he murmured. "Pitiable, most pitiable! But the evidence, my
+dear Cox-Raythwaite, the evidence! I only wish----"
+
+"I've been listening to all the evidence that could be brought before
+coroner's jury and magistrate in police court," broke in the Professor.
+"Listening with all my ears until I know every scrap of it by heart. And
+for four solid hours this afternoon I've been analysing it. I'm going to
+analyse it to you--and then I'll show you why it doesn't satisfy me.
+Give me your close attention, all of you."
+
+He drew a little table to his elbow, laid his bundle of papers upon it,
+and began to talk, checking off his points on the tips of his big,
+chemical-stained fingers.
+
+"Now," he said, "we'll just go through the evidence which has been
+brought against these two men, Barthorpe and Burchill, which evidence
+has resulted in Barthorpe being committed for trial and in the police's
+increased anxiety to lay hold of Burchill. The police theory, after all,
+is a very simple one--let's take it and their evidence point by point.
+
+ "1. The police say that Jacob Herapath came to his death
+ as the result of a conspiracy between his nephew
+ Barthorpe Herapath and Frank Burchill.
+
+ "2. They say that the proof that that conspiracy existed
+ is found in certain documents discovered by Davidge at
+ Burchill's flat, in which documents Barthorpe
+ covenants to pay Burchill ten per cent. of the value
+ of the Herapath property if and when he, Barthorpe,
+ comes into it.
+
+ "3. The police argue that this conspiracy to murder Jacob
+ Herapath and upset the will was in existence before
+ November 12th--in other words that the idea of
+ upsetting the will came first, and that the murder
+ arose out of it.
+
+ "4. In support of this they have proved that Barthorpe was
+ in close touch with Burchill as soon as the murder was
+ committed--afternoon of the same day, at any rate--and
+ therefore presumably had been in close touch with him
+ previously.
+
+ "5. They have proved to the full a certain matter about
+ which there is no doubt--that Barthorpe was at the
+ estate office about the time at which, according to
+ medical evidence, his uncle was murdered, that he
+ subsequently put on his uncle's coat and hat and
+ visited this house, and afterwards returned to the
+ estate office. That, I say, is certain--and it is the
+ most damning thing against Barthorpe.
+
+ "6. According to the police, then, Barthorpe was the
+ actual murderer, and Burchill was an accessory before
+ the fact. There is no evidence that Burchill was near
+ the estate office that night. But that, of course,
+ doesn't matter--if, as the police suggest, there is
+ evidence that the conspiracy to kill Jacob Herapath
+ existed before November 12th, then it doesn't matter
+ at all whether Burchill took an active part in it or
+ not--he's guilty as accessory."
+
+The Professor here paused and smote his bundle of papers. Then he lifted
+and wagged one of his great fingers.
+
+"But!" he exclaimed. "But--but--always a but! And the but in this case
+is a mighty one. It's this--did that conspiracy exist before November
+12th? Did it--did it? It's a great point--it's a great point. Now, we
+all know that this morning, before he was committed, Barthorpe, much
+against the wishes of his legal advisers, insisted, forcibly insisted,
+on making a statement. It's in the evening papers here, verbatim. I'll
+read it to you carefully--you heard him, all of you, but I want you to
+hear it again, read slowly. Consider it--think of it carefully--remember
+the circumstances under which it's made!"
+
+He turned to the table, selected a newspaper, and read:
+
+ "'The accused, having insisted, in spite of evident
+ strong dissuasion from his counsel, upon making a
+ statement, said: "I wish to tell the plain and absolute
+ truth about my concern with this affair. I have heard
+ the evidence given by various witnesses as to my
+ financial position. That evidence is more or less true. I
+ lost a lot of money last winter in betting and gambling.
+ I was not aware that my position was known to my uncle
+ until one of these witnesses revealed that my uncle had
+ been employing private inquiry agents to find it out. I
+ was meaning, when his death occurred, to make a clean
+ breast to him. I was on the best of terms with
+ him--whatever he may have known, it made no difference
+ that I ever noticed in his behaviour to me. I was not
+ aware that my uncle had made a will. He never mentioned
+ it to me. About a year ago, there was some joking
+ conversation between us about making a will, and I said
+ to him that he ought to do it, and give me the job, and
+ he replied, laughingly, that he supposed he would have
+ to, some time. I solemnly declare that on November 12th I
+ hadn't the ghost of a notion that he had made a will.
+
+ "'"On November 12th last, about five o'clock in the
+ afternoon, I received a note from my uncle, asking me to
+ meet him at his estate office, at midnight. I had often
+ met him there at that time--there was nothing unusual
+ about such an appointment. I went there, of course--I
+ walked there from my flat in the Adelphi. I noticed when I
+ got there that my uncle's brougham was being slowly driven
+ round the square across the road. The outer door of the
+ office was slightly open. I was surprised. The usual thing
+ when I made late calls was for me to ring a bell which
+ sounded in my uncle's private room, and he then came and
+ admitted me. I went in, and down the hall, and I then saw
+ that the door of his room was also open. The electric
+ light was burning. I went in. I at once saw my uncle--he
+ was lying between the desk and the hearth, quite dead.
+ There was a revolver lying near. I touched his hand and
+ found it was quite warm.
+
+ "'"I looked round, and seeing no sign of any struggle, I
+ concluded that my uncle had shot himself. I noticed that
+ his keys were lying on the desk. His fur-collared overcoat
+ and slouch hat were thrown on a sofa. Of course, I was
+ much upset. I went outside, meaning, I believe, to call
+ the caretaker. Everything was very still in the house. I
+ did not call. I began to think. I knew I was in a strange
+ position. I knew my uncle's death would make a vast
+ difference to me. I was next of kin. I wanted to know how
+ things stood--how I was left. Something suggested itself
+ to me. I think the overcoat and hat suggested it. I put on
+ the hat and coat, took the keys from the table, and the
+ latch-key of the Portman Square house from my uncle's
+ waistcoat pocket, turned out the light, went out, closed
+ both doors, went to the brougham, and was driven away. I
+ saw very well that the coachman didn't know me at all--he
+ thought I was his master.
+
+ "'"I have heard the evidence about my visit to Portman
+ Square. I stopped there some time. I made a fairly
+ complete search for a will and didn't find anything. It is
+ quite true that I used one of the glasses, and ate a
+ sandwich, and very likely I did bite into another. It's
+ true, too, that I have lost two front teeth, and that the
+ evidence of that could be in the sandwich. All that's
+ true--I admit it. It's also quite true that I got the
+ taxi-cab at two o'clock at the corner of Orchard Street
+ and drove back to Kensington. I re-entered the office;
+ everything was as I'd left it. I took off the coat and
+ hat, put the keys under some loose papers on the table,
+ turned out the light and went home to my flat.
+
+ "'"Now I wish to tell the absolute, honest truth about
+ Burchill and the will. When I heard of and saw the will,
+ after Mr. Tertius produced it, I went to see Burchill at
+ his flat. I had never seen him, never communicated with
+ him in any way whatever since he had left my uncle's
+ service until that afternoon. I had got his address from a
+ letter which I found in a pocket-book of my uncle's, which
+ I took possession of when the police and I searched his
+ effects. I went to see Burchill about the will, of course.
+ When I said that a will had been found he fenced with me.
+ He would only reply ambiguously. Eventually he asked me,
+ point-blank, if I would make it worth his while if he
+ aided me in upsetting the will. I replied that if he
+ could--which I doubted--I would. He told me to call at ten
+ o'clock that night. I did so. He then told me what I had
+ never suspected--that Mr. Tertius was, in reality, Arthur
+ John Wynne, a convicted forger. He gave me his proofs, and
+ I was fool enough to believe them. He then suggested that
+ it would be the easiest thing in the world, considering
+ Wynne's record, to prove that he had forged the will for
+ his daughter's benefit. He offered to aid in this if I
+ would sign documents giving him ten per cent. of the total
+ value of my uncle's estate, and I was foolish enough to
+ consent, and to sign. I solemnly declare that the entire
+ suggestion about upsetting the will came from Burchill,
+ and that there was no conspiracy between us of any sort
+ whatever previous to that night. Whatever may happen, I've
+ told this court the absolute, definite truth!"'"
+
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite folded up the newspaper, laid it on the little
+table, and brought his big hand down on his knee with an emphatic smack.
+
+"Now, then!" he said. "In my deliberate, coldly reasoned opinion, that
+statement is true! If they hang Barthorpe, they'll hang an innocent man.
+But----"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+THE REMAND PRISON
+
+
+Mr. Tertius broke the significant silence which followed. He shook his
+head sadly, and sighed deeply.
+
+"Ah, those buts!" he said. "As you remarked just now, Cox-Raythwaite,
+there is always a but. Now, this particular one--what is it?"
+
+"Let me finish my sentence," responded the Professor. "I say, I do not
+believe Barthorpe to be guilty of murder, though guilty enough of a
+particularly mean, dirty, and sneaking conspiracy to defraud his cousin.
+Yes, innocent of murder--but it will be a stiff job to prove his
+innocence. As things stand, he'll be hanged safe enough! You know what
+our juries are, Tertius--evidence such as that which has been put before
+the coroner and the magistrate will be quite sufficient to damn him at
+the Old Bailey. Ample!"
+
+"What do you suggest, then?" asked Mr. Tertius.
+
+"Suggestion," answered the Professor, "is a difficult matter. But there
+are two things--perhaps more, but certainly two--on which I want light.
+The first is--nobody has succeeded in unearthing the man who went to the
+House of Commons to see Jacob on the night of the murder. In spite of
+everything, advertisements and all the rest of it, he's never come
+forward. If you remember, Halfpenny had a theory that the letter and
+the object which Mountain saw Jacob hand to that man were a note to the
+Safe Deposit people and the key of the safe. Now we know that's not so,
+because no one ever brought any letter to the Safe Deposit people and
+nobody's ever opened the safe. Halfpenny, too, believed, during the
+period of the police officials' masterly silence, that that man had put
+himself in communication with them. Now we know that the police have
+never heard anything whatever of him, have never traced him. I'm
+convinced that if we could unearth that man we should learn something.
+But how to do it, I don't know."
+
+"And the other point?" asked Selwood, after a pause during which
+everybody seemed to be ruminating deeply. "You mentioned two."
+
+"The other point," replied the Professor, "is one on which I am going to
+make a practical suggestion. It's this--I believe that Barthorpe told
+the truth in that statement of his which I've just read to you, but I
+should like to know if he told all the truth--all! He may have omitted
+some slight thing, some infinitesimal circumstance----"
+
+"Do you mean about himself or--what?" asked Selwood.
+
+"I mean some very--or seemingly very--slight thing, during his two
+visits to the estate office that night, which, however slight it may
+seem, would form a clue to the real murderer," answered the Professor.
+"He may have seen something, noticed something, and forgotten it, or not
+attached great importance to it. And, in short," he continued, with
+added emphasis, "in short, my friends, Barthorpe must be visited,
+interviewed, questioned--not merely by his legal advisers, but by some
+friend, and the very person to do it"--here he turned and laid his great
+hand on Peggie's shoulder--"is--you, my dear!"
+
+"I!" exclaimed Peggie.
+
+"You, certainly! Nobody better. He will tell you what he would tell no
+one else," said the Professor. "You're the person. Am I not right,
+Tertius?"
+
+"I think you are right," assented Mr. Tertius. "Yes, I think so."
+
+"But--he's in prison!" said Peggie. "Will they let me?"
+
+"Oh, that's all right," answered the Professor. "Halfpenny will arrange
+that like winking. You must go at once--and Selwood there will go with
+you. Far better for you two young people to go than for either
+Halfpenny, or Tertius, or myself. Youth invites confidence."
+
+Peggie turned and looked at Selwood.
+
+"You'll go?" she asked.
+
+Selwood felt his cheeks flush and rose to conceal his sudden show of
+feeling. "I'll go anywhere and do anything!" he answered quietly. "I
+don't know whether my opinion's worth having, but I think exactly as
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite does about this affair. But--who's the guilty
+man? Is it--can it be Burchill? If what Barthorpe Herapath says about
+that will affair is true, Burchill is cunning and subtle enough for----"
+
+"Burchill, my dear lad, is at present out of our ken," interrupted
+Cox-Raythwaite. "Barthorpe, however, is very much within it, and
+Halfpenny must arrange for you two to see him without delay. And once
+closeted with him, you must talk to him for his soul's good--get him to
+search his memory, to think of every detail he can rake up--above
+everything, if there's anything he's keeping back, beg him, on your
+knees if necessary, to make a clean breast of it. Otherwise----"
+
+Two days later Peggie, sick at heart, and Selwood, nervous and fidgety,
+sat in a room which gave both of them a feeling as of partial suffocation.
+It was not that it was not big enough for two people, or for six people,
+or for a dozen people to sit in--there was space for twenty. What
+oppressed them was the horrible sense of formality, the absence of
+life, colour, of anything but sure and solid security, the intrusive
+spick-and-spanness, the blatant cleanliness, the conscious odour of some
+sort of soap, used presumably for washing floors and walls, the whole
+crying atmosphere of incarceration. The barred window, the pictureless
+walls, the official look of the utterly plain chairs and tables, the
+grilles of iron bars which cut the place in half--these things oppressed
+the girl so profoundly that she felt as if a sharp scream was the only
+thing that would relieve her pent-up feelings. And as she sat there with
+thumping heart, dreading the appearance of her cousin behind those bars,
+yet wishing intensely that he would come, Peggie had a sudden fearful
+realization of what it really meant to fall into the hands of justice.
+There, somewhere close by, no doubt, Barthorpe was able to move hands
+and feet, legs and arms, body and head--but within limits. He could pace
+a cell, he could tramp round an exercise yard, he could eat and drink,
+he could use his tongue when allowed, he could do many things--but
+always within limits. He was held--held by an unseen power which could
+materialize, could make itself very much seen, at a second's notice.
+There he would stop until he was carried off to his trial; he would come
+and go during that trial, the unseen power always holding him. And one
+day he would either go out of the power's clutches--free, or he would be
+carried off, not to this remand prison but a certain cell in another
+place in which he would sit, or lounge, or lie, with nothing to do,
+until a bustling, businesslike man came in one morning with a little
+group of officials and in his hand a bundle of leather straps. Held!--by
+the strong, never-relaxing clutch of the law. That----
+
+"Buck up!" whispered Selwood, in the blunt language of irreverent, yet
+good-natured, youth. "He's coming!"
+
+Peggie looked up to see Barthorpe staring at her through the iron bars.
+He was not over good to look at. He had a two days' beard on his face;
+his linen was not fresh; his clothes were put on untidily; he stood with
+his hands in his pockets lumpishly--the change wrought by incarceration,
+even of that comparative sort, was great. He looked both sulky and
+sheepish; he gave Selwood no more than a curt nod; his first response to
+his cousin was of the nature of a growl.
+
+"Hanged if I know what you've come for!" he said. "What's the good of
+it? You may mean well, but----"
+
+"Oh, Barthorpe, how can you!" exclaimed Peggie. "Of course we've come!
+Do you think it possible we shouldn't come? You know very well we all
+believe you innocent."
+
+"Who's all?" demanded Barthorpe, half-sneeringly. "Yourself, perhaps,
+and the parlour-maid!"
+
+"All of us," said Selwood, thinking it was time a man spoke.
+"Cox-Raythwaite, Mr. Tertius, myself. That's a fact, anyhow, so you'd
+better grasp it."
+
+Barthorpe straightened himself and looked keenly at Selwood. Then he
+spoke naturally and simply.
+
+"I'm much obliged to you, Selwood," he said. "I'd shake hands with you if
+I could. I'm obliged to the others, too--especially to old Tertius--I've
+wronged him, no doubt. But"--here his face grew dark and savage--"if you
+only knew how I was tricked by that devil! Is he caught?--that's what I
+want to know."
+
+"No!" answered Selwood. "But never mind him--we've come here to see what
+we can do for you. That's the important thing."
+
+"What can anybody do?" said Barthorpe, with a mirthless laugh. "You know
+all the evidence. It's enough--they'll hang me on it!"
+
+"Barthorpe, you mustn't!" expostulated Peggie. "That's not the way to
+treat things. Tell him," she went on, turning to Selwood, "tell him all
+that Professor Cox-Raythwaite said the other night."
+
+Selwood repeated the gist of the Professor's arguments and suggestions,
+and Barthorpe began to show some interest. But at the end he shook his
+head.
+
+"I don't know that there's anything more that I can tell," he said.
+"Whatever anybody may think, I told the entire truth about myself and
+this affair in that statement before the magistrate. Of course, you know
+they didn't want me to say a word--my legal advisers, I mean. They were
+dead against it. But you see, I was resolved on it--I wanted it to get
+in the papers. I told everything in that. I tried to put it as plainly
+as I could. No--I've told the main facts."
+
+"But aren't there any little facts, Barthorpe?" asked Peggie. "Can't you
+think of any small thing--was there nothing that would give--I don't
+know how to put it."
+
+"Anything that you can think of that would give a clue?" suggested
+Selwood. "Was there nothing you noticed--was there anything----"
+
+Barthorpe appeared to be thinking; then to be hesitating--finally, he
+looked at Selwood a little shamefacedly.
+
+"Well, there were one or two things that I didn't tell," he said.
+"I--the fact is, I didn't think they were of importance. One of them was
+about that key to the Safe Deposit. You know you and I couldn't find it
+when we searched the office that morning. Well, I had found it. Or
+rather, I took it off the bunch of keys. I wanted to search the safe at
+the Safe Deposit myself. But I never did. I don't know whether the
+detectives have found it or not--I threw it into a drawer at my office
+in which there are a lot of other keys. But, you know, there's nothing
+in that--nothing at all."
+
+"You said one or two other things just now," remarked Selwood. "That's
+one--what's the other?"
+
+Barthorpe hesitated. The three were not the only occupants of that
+gloomy room, and though the official ears might have been graven out of
+stone, he felt their presence.
+
+"Don't keep anything back, Barthorpe," pleaded Peggie.
+
+"Oh, well!" responded Barthorpe. "I'll tell you, though I don't know
+what good it will do. I didn't tell this, because--well, of course, it's
+not exactly a thing a man likes to tell. When I looked over Uncle
+Jacob's desk, just after I found him dead, you know, I found a
+hundred-pound note lying there. I put it in my pocket. Hundred-pound
+notes weren't plentiful, you know," he went on with a grim smile. "Of
+course, it was a shabby thing to do, sort of robbing the dead, you know,
+but----"
+
+"Do you see any way in which that can help?" asked Selwood, whose mind
+was not disposed to dwell on nice questions of morality or conduct.
+"Does anything suggest itself?"
+
+"Why, this," answered Barthorpe, rubbing his chin. "It was a brand-new
+note. That's puzzled me--that it should be lying there amongst papers.
+You might go to Uncle Jacob's bank and find out when he drew it--or
+rather, if he'd been drawing money that day. He used, as you and I know,
+to draw considerable amounts in notes. And--it's only a notion--if he'd
+drawn anything big that day, and he had it on him that night, why,
+there's a motive there. Somebody may have known he'd a considerable
+amount on him and have followed him in there. Don't forget that I found
+both doors open when I went there! That's a point that mustn't be
+overlooked."
+
+"There's absolutely nothing else you can think of?" asked Selwood.
+
+Barthorpe shook his head. No--there was nothing--he was sure of that.
+And then he turned eagerly to the question of finding Burchill.
+Burchill, he was certain, knew more than he had given him credit for,
+knew something, perhaps, about the actual murder. He was a deep, crafty
+dog, Burchill--only let the police find him!----
+
+Time was up, then, and Peggie and Selwood had to go--their last
+impression that of Barthorpe thrusting his hands in his pockets and
+lounging away to his enforced idleness. It made the girl sick at heart,
+and it showed Selwood what deprivation of liberty means to a man who has
+hitherto been active and vigorous.
+
+"Have we done any good?" asked Peggie, drawing a deep breath of free air
+as soon as they were outside the gates. "Any bit of good?"
+
+"There's the affair of the bank-note," answered Selwood. "That may be of
+some moment. I'll go and report progress on that, anyway."
+
+He put Peggie into her car to go home, and himself hailed a taxi-cab and
+drove straight to Mr. Halfpenny's office, where Professor Cox-Raythwaite
+and Mr. Tertius had arranged to meet him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+THE LAST CHEQUE
+
+
+The three elderly gentlemen, seated in Mr. Halfpenny's private room,
+listened with intense, if silent, interest to Selwood's account of the
+interview with Barthorpe. It was a small bundle of news that he had
+brought back and two of his hearers showed by their faces that they
+attached little importance to it. But Professor Cox-Raythwaite caught
+eagerly at the mere scrap of suggestion.
+
+"Tertius!--Halfpenny!" he exclaimed. "That must be followed up--we must
+follow it up at once. That bank-note may be a most valuable and
+effective clue."
+
+Mr. Halfpenny showed a decided incredulity and dissent.
+
+"I don't see it," he answered. "Don't see it at all, Cox-Raythwaite. What
+is there in it? What clue can there be in the fact that Barthorpe picked
+up a hundred pound bank-note from his uncle's writing-desk? Lord bless
+me!--why, every one of us four men knows very well that hundred pound
+notes were as common to Jacob Herapath as half-crowns are to any of
+us! He was a man who carried money in large amounts on him always--I've
+expostulated with him about it. Don't you know--no, I dare say you don't
+though, because you never had business dealings with him, and perhaps
+Tertius doesn't, either, because he, like you, only knew him as a
+friend--you don't know that Jacob had a peculiarity. Perhaps Mr. Selwood
+knows of it, though, as he was his secretary."
+
+"What peculiarity?" asked the Professor. "I know he had several fads,
+which one might call peculiarities."
+
+"He had a business peculiarity," replied Mr. Halfpenny, "and it was well
+known to people in his line of business. You know that Jacob Herapath
+had extensive, unusually extensive, dealings in real property--land and
+houses. Quite apart from the Herapath Flats, he dealt on wide lines with
+real estate; he was always buying and selling. And his peculiarity was
+that all his transactions in this way were done by cash--bank-notes or
+gold--instead of by cheque. It didn't matter if he was buying a hundred
+thousand pounds' worth of property, or selling two hundred thousand
+pounds' worth--the affairs had to be completed by payment in that
+fashion. I've scolded him about it scores of times; he only laughed at
+me; he said that had been the custom when he went into the business, and
+he'd stuck to it, and wasn't going to give it up. God bless me!"
+concluded Mr. Halfpenny, with emphasis. "I ought to know, for Jacob
+Herapath has concluded many an operation in this very room, and at this
+very table--I've seen him handle many a hundred thousand pounds' worth
+of notes in my time, paying or receiving! And, as I said, the mere
+picking up of a hundred pound note from his desk is--why, it's no more
+than if I picked up a few of those coppers that are lying there on my
+chimney-piece!"
+
+"Just so, just so!" observed Mr. Tertius mildly. "Jacob was a very
+wealthy man--the money evidence was everywhere."
+
+But Professor Cox-Raythwaite only laughed and smote the table with his
+big fist.
+
+"My dear Halfpenny!" he exclaimed. "Why, you've just given us the very
+best proof of what I've been saying! You're not looking deeply enough
+into things. The very fact to which you bear testimony proves to me that
+a certain theory which is assuming shape in my mind may possibly have a
+great deal in it. That theory, briefly, is this--on the day of his death,
+Jacob Herapath may have had upon his person a large amount of money in
+bank-notes. He may have had them paid to him. He may have drawn them from
+his bank, to pay to somebody else. Some evil person may have been aware of
+his possession of those notes and have tracked him to the estate offices,
+or gained entrance, or--mark this!--have been lurking--lurking!--there, in
+order to rob him. Don't forget two points, my friend--one, that Barthorpe
+(if he's speaking the truth, and I, personally, believe he is) tells us
+that the doors of the offices and the private room were open when he
+called at twelve o'clock; and, too, that, according to Mountain, the
+coachman, Jacob Herapath had been in those offices since twenty-five
+minutes to twelve--plenty of time for murder and robbery to take place.
+I repeat--Jacob may have had a considerable sum of money on him that
+night, some one may have known it, and the motive of his murder may have
+been--probably was--sheer robbery. And we ought to go on that, if we want
+to save the family honour."
+
+Mr. Tertius nodded and murmured assent, and Mr. Halfpenny stirred
+uneasily in his chair.
+
+"Family honour!" he said. "Yes, yes, that's right, of course. It would
+be a dreadful thing to see a nephew hanged for the murder of his
+uncle--quite right!"
+
+"A much more dreadful thing to stand by and see an innocent man hanged,
+without moving heaven and earth to clear him," commented the Professor.
+"Come now, I helped to establish the fact that Barthorpe visited Portman
+Square that night--Tertius there helped too, by his quickness in seeing
+that the half-eaten sandwich had been bitten into by a man who had lost
+two front teeth, which, of course, was Barthorpe's case--so the least we
+can do is to bestir ourselves now that we believe him to have told the
+truth in that statement."
+
+"But how exactly are we to bestir ourselves?" asked Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"I suggest a visit to Jacob Herapath's bankers, first of all," answered
+the Professor. "I haven't heard that any particular inquiry has been
+made. Did you make any, Halfpenny?"
+
+"Jacob's bankers are Bittleston, Stocks and Bittleston," replied the old
+lawyer. "I did make it in my way to drop in there and to see Mr.
+Playbourne, the manager of their West End branch, in Piccadilly. He
+assured me that there was nothing whatever out of the common in Jacob
+Herapath's transactions with them just before his death, and nothing at
+all in their particulars of his banking account which could throw any
+possible light on his murder."
+
+"In his opinion," said the Professor, caustically, "in his opinion,
+Halfpenny! But--you don't know what our opinion might be. Now, I suggest
+that we all go at once to see this Mr. Playbourne; there's ample time
+before the bank closes for the day."
+
+"Very well," assented Mr. Halfpenny. "All the same, I'm afraid
+Playbourne will only say just what he said before."
+
+Mr. Playbourne, a good typical specimen of the somewhat old-fashioned
+bank manager, receiving this formidable deputation of four gentlemen in
+his private room, said precisely what he had said before, and seemed
+astonished to think that any light upon such an unpleasant thing as a
+murder could possibly be derived from so highly respectable a quarter as
+that in which he moved during the greater part of the day.
+
+"I can't think of anything in our transactions with the late Mr.
+Herapath that gives any clue, any idea, anything at all," he said,
+somewhat querulously. "Mr. Herapath's transactions with us, right up to
+the day of his death, were just what they had been for years. Of course,
+I'm willing to tell you anything, show you anything. You're acting for
+Miss Wynne, aren't you, Mr. Halfpenny?"
+
+"I have a power of attorney from Miss Wynne, for that matter," answered
+Mr. Halfpenny. "Everything of that sort's in my hands."
+
+"I'll tell you what, then," said the bank manager, laying his hand on a
+bell at his side. "You'd better see Jacob Herapath's pass-book. I
+recently had it posted up to the day of his death, and of course we've
+retained it until you demanded it. You can't have a better index to his
+affairs with us than you'll find in it. Sellars," he went on, as a clerk
+appeared, "bring me the late Mr. Herapath's pass-book--Mr. Ravensdale
+has it."
+
+The visitors presently gathered round the desk on which Mr. Playbourne
+laid the parchment-bound book--one of a corresponding thickness with the
+dead man's transactions. The manager turned to the pages last filled in.
+
+"You're aware, of course, some of you at any rate," he said, "you, Mr.
+Halfpenny, and you, Mr. Selwood, that the late Jacob Herapath dealt in
+big sums. He always had a very large balance at this branch of our bank;
+he was continually paying in and drawing out amounts which, to men of
+less means, must needs seem tremendous. Now, you can see for yourselves
+what his transactions with us were during the last few days of his life;
+I, as I have said, see nothing out of the way in them--you, of course,"
+he continued, with a sniff, "may see a good deal!"
+
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite ran his eye over the neatly-written pages,
+passing rapidly on to the important date--November 12th. And he suddenly
+thrust out his arm and put the tip of a big yellow finger on one
+particular entry.
+
+"There!" he exclaimed. "Look at that. 'Self, L5,000.' Paid out, you see,
+on November 12th. Do you see?"
+
+Mr. Playbourne laughed cynically.
+
+"My dear sir!" he said. "Do you mean to say that you attach any
+importance to an entry like that? Jacob Herapath constantly drew cheques
+to self for five, ten, twenty, thirty--aye, fifty thousand pounds! He
+dealt in tens of thousands--he was always buying or selling. Five
+thousand pounds!--a fleabite!"
+
+"All the same, if you please," said the Professor quietly, "I should
+like to know if Jacob Herapath presented that self cheque himself, and
+if so, how he took the money it represents."
+
+"Oh, very well!" said the manager resignedly. He touched his bell again,
+and looked wearily at the clerk who answered it. "Find out if the late
+Mr. Herapath himself presented a cheque for five thousand on November
+12th, and if so, how he took it," he said. "Well," he continued, turning
+to his visitors. "Do you see anything with any further possible mystery
+attached to it?"
+
+"There's an entry there--the last," observed Mr. Halfpenny. "That.
+'Dimambro: three thousand guineas.' That's the same date."
+
+Mr. Playbourne suddenly showed some interest and animation. His eyes
+brightened; he sat up erect.
+
+"Ah!" he said. "Well, now, that is somewhat remarkable, that entry!--though
+of course there's nothing out of the common in it. But that cheque was
+most certainly the very last ever drawn by Jacob Herapath, and according
+to strict law, it never ought to have been paid out by us."
+
+"Why?" asked Professor Cox-Raythwaite.
+
+"Because Jacob Herapath, the drawer, was dead before it was presented,"
+replied the manager. "But of course we didn't know that. The cheque, you
+see, was drawn on November 12th, and it was presented here as soon as
+ever the doors were opened next morning and before any of us knew of
+what had happened during the night, and it was accordingly honoured in
+the usual way."
+
+"The payee, of course, was known?" observed Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"No, he was not known, but he endorsed the cheque with name and address,
+and there can be no reason whatever to doubt that it had come to him in
+the ordinary way of business," replied the manager. "Quite a usual
+transaction, but, as I say, noteworthy, because, as you know, a cheque
+is no good after its drawer's demise."
+
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite, who appeared to have fallen into a brown study
+for a moment, suddenly looked up.
+
+"Now I wonder if we might be permitted to see that cheque--as a
+curiosity?" he said. "Can we be favoured so far?"
+
+"Oh, certainly, certainly," answered Mr. Playbourne. "No trouble.
+I'll--ah, here's your information about the other cheque--the self
+cheque for five thousand."
+
+He took a slip of paper from the clerk who just then entered, and read
+it aloud.
+
+"Here you are," he said. "'Mr. Herapath cashed cheque for L5,000
+himself, at three o'clock; the money in fifty notes of L100 each,
+numbered as follows'--you can take this slip, if you like," he
+continued, handing the paper to Professor Cox-Raythwaite, as the
+obviously most interested man of his party. "There are the numbers of
+the notes. Of course, I can't see how all this throws any light on the
+mystery of Herapath's murder, but perhaps you can. Sellers," he
+continued, turning to the clerk, and beckoning him to look at the
+pass-book, "find me the cheque referred to there, and bring it here."
+
+The clerk returned in a few minutes with the cheque, which Mr.
+Playbourne at once exhibited to his visitors.
+
+"There you are, gentlemen," he said. "Quite a curiosity!--certainly the
+last cheque ever drawn by our poor friend. There, you see, is his
+well-known signature with his secret little mark which you wouldn't
+detect--secret between him and us, eh!--big, bold handwriting, wasn't
+it? Sad to think that that was--very likely--the last time he used a
+pen!"
+
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite in his turn handled the cheque. Its face gave
+him small concern; what he was most interested in was the endorsement on
+the back. Without saying anything to his companions, he memorized that
+endorsement, and he was still murmuring it to himself when, a few
+minutes later, he walked out of the bank.
+
+"Luigi Dimambro, Hotel Ravenna, Soho."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+THE HOTEL RAVENNA
+
+
+Once closeted together in the private room at Halfpenny and Farthing's
+office, Mr. Halfpenny, who had seemed somewhat mystified by the
+happenings at the bank, looked inquiringly at Professor Cox-Raythwaite
+and snapped out one suggestive monosyllable:
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Very well indeed," answered Cox-Raythwaite. "I consider we have done
+good work. We have found things out. That bank manager is a pompous ass;
+he's a man of asinine, or possible bovine, mind! Of course, he ought to
+have revealed these things at both the inquest and the magisterial
+proceedings!--they'll certainly have to be put in evidence at Barthorpe
+Herapath's trial."
+
+"What things?" demanded the old lawyer, a little testily.
+
+"Two things--facts," replied the Professor, composedly. "First, that
+Jacob Herapath drew five thousand pounds in hundred pound notes at three
+o'clock on the day of his death. Second, that at some hour of that day
+he drew a cheque in favour of one Luigi Dimambro, which cheque was
+cashed as soon as the bank opened next morning."
+
+"Frankly," observed Mr. Halfpenny, "frankly, candidly, Cox-Raythwaite,
+I do not see what these things--facts--prove."
+
+"Very likely," said the Professor, imperturbable as ever, "but they're
+remarkably suggestive to me. They establish for one thing the fact that,
+in all probability, Jacob Herapath had those notes on him when he was
+murdered."
+
+"Don't see it," retorted Mr. Halfpenny. "He got the fifty one-hundred-pound
+notes from the bank at three o'clock in the afternoon. He's supposed to
+have been murdered at twelve--midnight. That's nine hours. Plenty of time
+in which to pay those notes away--as he most likely did."
+
+"If you'll let your mind go back to what came out in evidence at the
+inquest," said the Professor, "you'll remember that Jacob Herapath went
+to the House of Commons at half-past three that day and never left it
+until his coachman fetched him at a quarter-past eleven. It's not very
+likely that he'd transact business at the House."
+
+"Plenty of time between three and half-past three," objected Mr.
+Halfpenny.
+
+"Quite so, but we haven't heard of any transaction being carried out
+during that time. Make inquiry, and see if he did engage in any such
+transaction," said the Professor. "If he didn't, then my theory that he
+had the notes on him is correct. Moreover, Barthorpe has told Selwood
+that he picked up one note from the desk in his uncle's private room."
+
+"One note!" exclaimed Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"One note--quite so," agreed the Professor. "May it not have been--it's
+all theory, of course--that Jacob had all the notes on the desk when he
+was murdered, that the murderer grabbed them afterwards, and in his
+haste, left one? Come, now!"
+
+"Theory--theory!" said Mr. Halfpenny. "Still, I'll make inquiries all
+around, to see if Jacob did pay five thousand away to anybody that
+afternoon. Well, and your other point?"
+
+"I should like to know what the cheque for three thousand guineas was
+for," answered the Professor. "It was paid out to one Luigi Dimambro,
+whose address was written down by himself in endorsing the cheque as
+Hotel Ravenna, Soho. He, presumably, is a foreigner, an Italian, or a
+Corsican, or a Sicilian, and the probability is that Jacob Herapath
+bought something from him that day, and that the transaction took place
+after banking hours."
+
+"How do you deduce that?" asked Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"Because Dimambro cashed his cheque as soon as the bank opened its doors
+next morning," answered the Professor. "If he'd been given the cheque
+before four o'clock on November 12th, he'd have cashed it then."
+
+"The cheque may have been posted to him," said Mr. Halfpenny.
+
+"May be; the point is that it was drawn by Jacob on November 12th and
+cashed at the earliest possible hour next day," replied the Professor.
+"Now, though it may have nothing to do with the case, I want to know
+what that cheque referred to. More than this, I have an idea. May not
+this man Dimambro be the man who called on Jacob Herapath at the House
+of Commons that night--the man whom Mountain saw, but did not recognize
+as one of his master's usual friends or acquaintances? Do you see that
+point?"
+
+Mr. Tertius and Selwood muttered expressions of acquiescence, but Mr.
+Halfpenny shook his head.
+
+"Can't see anything much in it," he said. "If this foreign fellow,
+Dimambro, was the man who called at the House, I don't see what that's got
+to do with the murder. Jacob Herapath, of course, had business affairs
+with all sorts of queer people--Italians, Spaniards, Chinese--many a Tom,
+Dick, and Harry of 'em; he bought curios of all descriptions, and often
+sold them again as soon as bought."
+
+"Very good suggestion," said Professor Cox-Raythwaite. "He may have
+bought something extremely valuable from this Dimambro that day, or that
+night, and--he may have had it on him when he was murdered. Clearly, we
+must see this Luigi Dimambro!"
+
+"If he's the man who called at the House, you forget that he's been
+advertised for no end," said Selwood.
+
+"No, I don't," responded the Professor. "But he may be out of the
+country: may have come to it specially to see Jacob Herapath, and left
+it again. I repeat, we must see this man, if he's to be found. We must
+make inquiries--cautious, guarded inquiries--at this hotel in Soho,
+which is probably a foreigners' house of call, a mere restaurant. And
+the very person to make those inquiries," he concluded, turning to
+Selwood and favouring him with a smack of the shoulder, "is--you!"
+
+Selwood flinched, physically and mentally. He had no great love of the
+proposed role--private detective work did not appeal to him. And he
+suggested that Professor Cox-Raythwaite had far better apply to Scotland
+Yard.
+
+"By no means," answered the Professor calmly. "You are the man to do the
+work. We don't want any police interference. This Hotel Ravenna is
+probably some cafe, restaurant, or saloon in Soho, frequented by
+foreigners--a place where, perhaps, a man can get a room for a night or
+two. You must go quietly, unobtrusively, there; if it's a restaurant, as
+it's sure to be, or at any rate, a place to which a restaurant is
+attached, go in and get some sort of a meal, keep your eyes open, find
+out the proprietor, get into talk with him, see if he knows Luigi
+Dimambro. All you need is tact, caution, and readiness to adapt yourself
+to circumstances."
+
+Then, when they left Mr. Halfpenny's office he took Selwood aside and
+gave him certain hints and instructions, and enlarged upon the
+advantages of finding Dimambro if he was to be found. The Professor
+himself was enthusiastic about these recent developments, and he
+succeeded in communicating some of his enthusiasm to Selwood. After all,
+thought Selwood, as he went to Portman Square to tell Peggie of the
+afternoon's doings, whatever he did was being done for Peggie; moreover,
+he was by that time certain that however mean and base Barthorpe
+Herapath's conduct had been about the will, he was certainly not the
+murderer of his uncle. If that murderer was to be tracked--why, there
+was a certain zest, an appealing excitement in the tracking of him that
+presented a sure fascination to youthful spirits.
+
+That evening found Selwood, quietly and unassumingly attired, examining
+the purlieus of Soho. It was a district of which he knew little, and for
+half an hour he perambulated its streets, wondering at the distinctly
+foreign atmosphere. And suddenly he came across the Hotel Ravenna--there
+it was, confronting him, at the lower end of Dean Street. He drew back
+and looked it well over from the opposite pavement.
+
+The Hotel Ravenna was rather more of a pretentious establishment than
+Selwood had expected it to be. It was typically Italian in outward
+aspect. There were the usual evergreen shrubs set in the usual green
+wood tubs at the entrance; the usual abundance of plate-glass and garish
+gilt; the usual glimpse, whenever the door opened, of the usual vista of
+white linen, red plush, and many mirrors; the waiter who occasionally
+showed himself at the door, napkin in hand, was of the type which
+Selwood had seen a thousand times under similar circumstances. But all
+this related to the restaurant--Selwood was more interested that the
+word "Hotel" appeared in gilt letters over a door at the side of the
+establishment and was repeated in the windows of the upper storeys. He
+was half-minded to enter the door at once, and to make a guarded inquiry
+for Mr. Luigi Dimambro; on reflection he walked across the street and
+boldly entered the restaurant.
+
+It was half-past seven o'clock, and the place was full of customers.
+Selwood took most of them to be foreigners. He also concluded after a
+first glance around him that the majority had some connection, more or
+less close, with either the dramatic, or the musical, or the artistic
+professions. There was much laughter and long hair, marvellous neckties
+and wondrous costumes; everybody seemed to be talking without regard to
+question or answer; the artillery of the voices mingled with the
+rattling of plates and popping of corks. Clearly this was no easy place
+in which to seek for a man whom one had never seen!
+
+Selwood allowed a waiter to conduct him to a vacant seat--a plush throne
+half-way along the restaurant. He ordered a modest dinner and a bottle
+of light wine, and following what seemed to be the custom, lighted a
+cigarette until his first course appeared. And while he waited he looked
+about him, noting everything that presented itself. Out of all the folk
+there, waiters and customers, the idle and the busy, he quickly decided
+that there was only one man who possessed particular interest for him.
+That man was the big, smiling, frock-coated, sleek-haired patron or
+proprietor, who strode up and down, beaming and nodding, sharp-eyed and
+courteous, and whom Selwood, from a glance at the emblazoned lettering
+of the bill-of-fare, took to rejoice in the name of Mr. Alessandro
+Bioni. This man, if he was landlord, or manager, of the Ravenna Hotel,
+was clearly the person to approach if one wanted information about the
+Luigi Dimambro who had given the place as his address as recently as
+November 12th.
+
+While he ate and drank, Selwood wondered how to go about his business.
+It seemed to him that the best thing to do, now that he had seen the
+place and assured himself that it was a hotel evidently doing a proper
+and legitimate business, was to approach its management with a plain
+question--was Mr. Luigi Dimambro staying there, or was he known there?
+Since Dimambro, whoever he might be, had given that as his address,
+something must be known of him. And when the smiling patron presently
+came round, and, seeing a new customer, asked politely if he was being
+served to his satisfaction, Selwood determined to settle matters at
+once.
+
+"The proprietor, I presume?" he asked.
+
+"Manager, sir," answered the other. "The proprietor, he is an old
+gentleman--practically retired."
+
+"Perhaps I can ask you a question," Selwood. "Have you got a Mr. Luigi
+Dimambro staying at your hotel? He is, I believe"--here Selwood made a
+bold shot at a possibility--"a seller of curios, or art objects. I know
+he stops here sometimes."
+
+The manager rubbed his hands together and reflected.
+
+"One moment, sir," he said. "I get the register. The hotel guests, they
+come in here for meals, but always I do not recollect their names, and
+sometimes not know them. But the register----"
+
+He sped down the room, through a side door, vanished; to return in a
+moment with a book which he carried to Selwood's side.
+
+"Dimambro?" he said. "Recently, then? We shall see."
+
+"About the beginning or middle of November," answered Selwood.
+
+The manager found the pages: suddenly he pointed to an entry.
+
+"See, then!" he exclaimed dramatically. "You are right, sir. There--Luigi
+Dimambro--November 11th to--yes--13th. Two days only. Then he go--leave
+us, eh?"
+
+"Oh, then, he's not here now," said Selwood, affecting disappointment.
+"That's a pity. I wanted to see him. I wonder if he left any address?"
+
+The manager showed more politeness in returning to the hotel office and
+making inquiry. He came back full of disappointment that he could not
+oblige his customer. No--no address--merely there for two nights--then
+gone--nobody knew where. Perhaps he would return--some day.
+
+"Oh, it's of no great consequence, thank you," remarked Selwood. "I'm
+much obliged to you."
+
+He had found out, at any rate, that a man named Dimambro had certainly
+stayed at the Hotel Ravenna on the critical and important date.
+Presumably he was the man who had presented Jacob Herapath's cheque at
+Bittleston's Bank first thing on the morning after the murder. But
+whether this man had any connection with that murder, whether to
+discover his whereabouts would be to reveal something of use in
+establishing Barthorpe Herapath's innocence, were questions which he
+must leave to Professor Cox-Raythwaite, to whom he was presently going
+with his news.
+
+He had just finished his coffee, and was about to pay his bill when,
+looking up to summon the waiter, he suddenly saw a face appear behind
+the glass panel of the street door--the face of a man who had evidently
+stolen quietly into the entry between the evergreen shrubs and wished to
+take a surreptitious peep into the interior of the little restaurant. It
+was there, clearly seen through the glass, but for one fraction of a
+second--then it was withdrawn as swiftly as it had come and the panel of
+glass was blank again. But in that flash of time Selwood had recognized
+it.
+
+Burchill!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+THE NOTE IN THE PRAYER-BOOK
+
+
+Selwood hurried out of that restaurant as soon as he had paid his bill,
+but it was with small hopes of finding the man whose face had appeared
+at the glass panel for the fraction of a second. As well look for one
+snowflake in a drift as for one man in those crowded streets!--all the
+same, he spent half an hour in wandering round the neighbourhood,
+looking eagerly at every tall figure he met or passed. And at the end of
+that time he went off to Endsleigh Gardens and reported progress to
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite.
+
+The Professor heard both items of news without betraying any great
+surprise.
+
+"You're sure it was Burchill?" he asked.
+
+"As sure," answered Selwood, "as that you're you! His is not a face easy
+to mistake."
+
+"He's a daring fellow," observed the Professor, musingly. "A very bold
+fellow! There's a very good portrait of him on those bills that the police
+have put out and posted so freely, and he must know that every constable
+and detective in London is on the look-out for him, to say nothing of folk
+who would be glad of the reward. If that was Burchill--and I've no doubt
+of it, since you're so certain--it suggests a good deal to me."
+
+"What?" asked Selwood.
+
+"That he's not afraid of being recaptured as you'd think he would
+be," replied the Professor. "It suggests that he's got some card
+up his sleeve--which is what I've always thought. He probably knows
+something--you may be certain, in any case, that he's playing a deep
+and bold game, for his own purpose, of course. Now, I wonder if
+Burchill went to that restaurant on the same errand as yourself?"
+
+"What!--to look for Dimambro?" exclaimed Selwood.
+
+"Why not? Remember that Burchill was Jacob Herapath's secretary before
+you were," answered the Professor. "He was with Jacob some time,
+wasn't he? Well, he knew a good deal about Jacob's doings. Jacob may
+have had dealings with this Dimambro person in Burchill's days. You
+don't remember that Jacob had any such dealings in your time?"
+
+"Never!" replied Selwood. "Never heard the man's name until
+yesterday--never saw any letters from him, never heard Mr. Herapath
+mention him. But then, as Mr. Halfpenny said, yesterday, Mr. Herapath
+had all sorts of queer dealings with queer people. It's a fact that he
+used to buy and sell all sorts of things--curios, pictures, precious
+stones--he'd all sorts of irons in the fire. It's a fact, too, that he
+was accustomed to carrying not only considerable sums of money, but
+valuables on him."
+
+"Ah!" exclaimed the Professor. He rose out of his chair, put his hands
+behind his broad back, and began to march up and down his study. "I'll
+tell you what, young man!" he said earnestly. "I'm more than ever
+convinced that Jacob Herapath was robbed as well as murdered, and that
+robbery and murder--or, rather, murder and robbery, for the murder would
+go first--took place just before Barthorpe entered the offices to keep
+that appointment. Selwood!--we must find this Dimambro man!"
+
+"Who's most likely left the country," remarked Selwood.
+
+"That's probable--it may be certain," said the Professor. "Nevertheless,
+he may be here. And Burchill may be looking for him, too. Now, if Dimambro
+stopped two days at that Hotel Ravenna, from November 11th to 13th, there
+must be somebody who knows something of him. We must--you must--make more
+inquiry--there at the hotel. Talk quietly to that manager or the servants.
+Get a description of him. Do that at once--first thing tomorrow morning."
+
+"You don't want to tell the police all this?" asked Selwood.
+
+"No! Not at present, at any rate," answered the Professor. "The police
+have their own methods, and they don't thank anybody for putting them
+off their beaten tracks. And--for the present--we won't tell them
+anything about your seeing Burchill. If we did, they'd be incredulous.
+Police-like, they'll have watched the various seaports much more closely
+than they'll have watched London streets for Burchill. And Burchill's a
+clever devil--he'll know that he's much safer under the very nose of the
+people who want him than he would be fifty miles away from their toes!
+No, it's my opinion that Master Burchill will reveal himself, when the
+time comes."
+
+"Give himself up, do you mean?" exclaimed Selwood.
+
+"Likely--but if he does, it'll be done with a purpose," answered the
+Professor. "Well--keep all quiet at present, and tomorrow morning, go
+and see if you can find out more about Dimambro at that hotel."
+
+Selwood repaired to the polite manager again next day and found no
+difficulty in getting whatever information the hotel staff--represented
+by a manageress, a general man-servant, and a maid or two--could give.
+It was meagre, and not too exact in particulars. Mr. Dimambro, who had
+never been there before, had stopped two days. He had occupied Room
+5--the gentleman could see it if he wished. Mr. Dimambro had been in and
+out most of the time. On the 13th he had gone out early in the morning;
+by ten o'clock he had returned, paid his bill, and gone away with his
+luggage--one suit-case. No--he had had no callers at the hotel. But a
+waiter in the restaurant was discovered who remembered him as Number 5,
+and that on the 12th he had entertained a gentleman to dinner at seven
+o'clock--a tall, thin, dark-faced gentleman, who looked like--yes, like
+an actor: a nicely dressed gentleman. That was all the waiter could
+remember of the guest; he remembered just about as much of Number 5,
+which was that Dimambro was a shortish, stoutish gentleman, with a
+slight black beard and moustache. There was a good reason why the
+waiter remembered this occurrence--the two gentlemen had a bottle of the
+best champagne, a rare occurrence at the Hotel Ravenna--a whole bottle,
+for which the surprising sum of twelve shillings and sixpence was
+charged! In proof of that startling episode in the restaurant routine,
+he produced the desk book for that day--behold it, the entry: Number
+5--1 Moet & Chandon, 12_s._ 6_d._
+
+"It is of a rare thing our customers call for wine so expensive," said
+the polite manager. "Light wines, you understand, sir, we mostly sell.
+Champagne at twelve and six--an event!"
+
+Selwood carried this further news to Professor Cox-Raythwaite, who
+roused himself from his microscope to consider it.
+
+"Could that tall, dark, nicely-dressed gentleman have been Burchill?" he
+muttered. "Sounds like him. But you've got a description of Dimambro, at
+any rate. Now we know of one man who saw the caller at the House of
+Commons--Mountain, the coachman. Come along--I'll go with you to see
+Mountain."
+
+Mountain, discovered at the mews wherein the Herapath stable was kept,
+said at once that he remembered the gentleman who had come out of the
+House of Commons with his late master. But when he came to be taxed with
+a requirement of details, Mountain's memory proved to be of no real
+value. The gentleman--well, he was a well-dressed gentleman, and he wore
+a top hat. But whether the gentleman was dark or fair, elderly or
+middle-aged, short or medium-heighted, he did not know--exactly.
+Nevertheless----
+
+"I should know him again, sir, if I was to set eyes on him!" said
+Mountain, with such belief in his powers. "Pick him out of a thousand, I
+could!"
+
+"Queer how deficient most of our people are in the faculty of observation!"
+remarked the Professor as he and Selwood left the mews. "It really is most
+extraordinary that a man like that, with plenty of intelligence, and is no
+doubt a good man in his own line, can look at another man for a full minute
+and yet be utterly unable to tell you anything definite about him a month
+later! No help there, Selwood."
+
+It seemed to Selwood that they were face to face with an impossible
+situation, and he began to feel inclined to share Mr. Halfpenny's
+pessimistic opinions as to the usefulness of these researches. But
+Professor Cox-Raythwaite was not to be easily daunted, and he was no
+sooner baulked in one direction than he hastened to try another.
+
+"Now, let's see where we are," he said, as they went round to Portman
+Square. "We do know for a certainty that Jacob Herapath had a transaction
+of some sort with one Luigi Dimambro, on November 12th, and that it
+resulted in his handing, or sending, the said Luigi a cheque for three
+thousand guineas. Let's see if we can't find some trace of it, or some
+mention of it, or of previous dealings with Dimambro, amongst Jacob's
+papers. I suppose we can get access to everything here at the house,
+and down at the office, too, can't we? The probability is that the
+transaction with Dimambro was not the first. There must be something,
+Selwood--memoranda, letters, receipts--must be!"
+
+But Selwood shook his head and uttered a dismal groan.
+
+"Another of my late employer's peculiarities," he answered, "was that
+he never gave or took receipts in what one may call word-of-mouth
+transactions! He had a rooted--almost savage--objection to anybody
+asking him for a receipt for cash; he absolutely refused to take one if
+he paid cash. I've seen him pay several thousand pounds for a purchase
+and fling the proffered receipt in the fire in the purchaser's presence.
+He used to ask--vehemently!--if you wanted receipts for a loaf of bread
+or a pound of beef-steak. I'm afraid we shan't find much of that sort.
+As to letters and memoranda, Mr. Herapath had a curious habit which gave
+me considerable trouble of mind when I first went to him, though I admit
+it was a simple one. He destroyed every letter he ever got as soon as
+he'd answered it. And as he insisted on everything being answered there
+and then, there's no great accumulation of paper in that way!"
+
+"We'll see what there is, anyhow," said the Professor. "If we could find
+something, anything--a mere business card, a letter-heading--that would
+give us Dimambro's permanent address, it would be of use. For I'm more
+and more convinced that Dimambro was the man who called at the House of
+Commons that night, and if it was Burchill who dined with him that same
+evening, why, then--but come along, let's have a look at Jacob's desk
+in the house here, and after that we'll go down to the estate offices
+and see if we can find anything there."
+
+This was a Saturday morning--during the whole of that afternoon and
+evening the Professor and Selwood examined every drawer and receptacle
+in which Jacob Herapath's papers lay, both at Portman Square and at
+Kensington. And, exactly as Selwood had said, there was next to nothing
+of a private nature. Papers relating to Parliamentary matters, to
+building schemes, to business affairs, there were in plenty, duly filed,
+docketed, and arranged, but there was nothing of the sort that
+Cox-Raythwaite hoped to find, and when they parted, late at night, they
+were no wiser than when they began their investigations.
+
+"Go home to bed," counselled the Professor. "Put the whole thing out of
+your head until Monday morning. Don't even think about it. Come and see
+me on Monday, first thing, and we'll start again. For by the Lord Harry!
+I'll find out yet what the real nature of Jacob Herapath's transaction
+with Dimambro was, if I have to track Dimambro all through Italy!"
+
+Selwood was glad enough to put everything out of his mind; it seemed to him
+a hopeless task to search for a man to whose identity they only had the
+very faintest clue. But before noon of the next day--Sunday--he was face
+to face with a new phase of the problem. Since her uncle's death, Peggie
+had begun to show a quiet reliance on Selwood. It had come to be tacitly
+understood between them that he was to be in constant attendance on her
+for the present, at any rate. He spent all his time at the house in
+Portman Square; he saved its young mistress all the trouble he could; he
+accompanied her in her goings and comings. And of late he had taken to
+attending her to a certain neighbouring church, whereto Peggie, like a
+well-regulated young lady, was constant in her Sunday visits. There in
+the Herapath family pew, he and Peggie sat together on this particular
+Sunday morning, neither with any thought that the Herapath mystery had
+penetrated to their sacred surroundings. Selwood had been glad to take
+Cox-Raythwaite's advice and to put the thing out of his mind for thirty-six
+hours: Peggie had nothing in her mind but what was proper to the occasion.
+
+Jacob Herapath had been an old-fashioned man in many respects; one of
+his fads was an insistence upon having a family pew in the church which
+he attended, and in furnishing it with his own cushions, mats, and
+books. Consequently Peggie left her own prayer-book in that pew from
+Sunday to Sunday. She picked it up now, and opened it at the usual
+familiar place. And from that place immediately dropped a folded note.
+
+Had this communication been a _billet-doux_, Peggie could hardly have
+betrayed more alarm and confusion. For a moment she let the thing rest
+in the palm of her hand, holding the hand out towards Selwood at her
+side; then with trembling fingers she unfolded it in such a fashion that
+she and Selwood read it together. With astonished eyes and beating hearts
+they found themselves looking at a half-sheet of thin, foreign-looking
+notepaper, on which were two or three lines of typewriting:
+
+ "If you wish to save your cousin Barthorpe's life,
+ leave the church and speak to the lady whom you will find
+ in a private automobile at the entrance to the
+ churchyard."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+THE WHITE-HAIRED LADY
+
+
+The two young people who bent over this mysterious message in the shelter
+of that old-fashioned pew were each conscious of a similar feeling--they
+were thankful that they were together. Peggie Wynne had never been so glad
+of anything in her life as for Selwood's immediate presence at that moment:
+Selwood felt a world of unspeakable gratitude that he was there, just when
+help and protection were wanted. For each recognized, with a sure instinct
+and intuition, that those innocent-looking lines of type-script signified
+much, heralded some event of dire importance. To save Barthorpe Herapath's
+life!--that could only mean that somebody--the sender of the note--knew
+that Barthorpe was innocent and some other person guilty.
+
+For a moment the girl stared with startled eyes and flushed cheeks at
+the scrap of paper; then she turned with a quick, questioning look at
+her companion. And Selwood reached for his hat and his stick, and
+murmured one word:
+
+"Come!"
+
+Peggie saw nothing of the surprised and questioning looks which were turned
+on Selwood and herself as they left the pew and passed down the aisle of
+the crowded church. She had but one thought--whom was she going to meet
+outside, what revelation was going to be made to her? Unconsciously, she
+laid a hand on Selwood's arm as they passed through the porch, and Selwood,
+with a quick throb of pride, took it and held it. Then, arm in arm, they
+walked out, and a verger who opened the outer door for them, smiled as they
+passed him; he foresaw another passing-out, whereat Peggie would wear
+orange blossoms.
+
+The yard of this particular church was not a place of green sward,
+ancient trees, and tumble-down tombs; instead it was an expanse of bare
+flagstones, shut in by high walls which terminated at a pair of iron
+gates. Outside those gates an automobile was drawn up; its driver stood
+attentively at its door. Selwood narrowly inspected both, as he and
+Peggie approached. The car was evidently a private one: a quiet, yet
+smart affair; its driver was equally smart in his dark green livery. And
+that he had received his orders was evident from the fact that as the
+two young people approached he touched his cap and laid a hand on the
+door of the car.
+
+"Be watchful and careful," whispered Selwood, as he and Peggie crossed
+the pavement. "Leave all to me!"
+
+He himself was keenly alert to whatever might be going to happen. It
+seemed to him, from the chauffeur's action, that they were to be
+invited, or Peggie was to be invited, to enter the car. Very good--but
+he was going to know who was in that car before any communications of
+any sort were entered upon. Also, Peggie was not going to exchange one
+word with anybody, go one step with anybody, unless he remained in close
+attendance upon her. The phraseology of the mysterious note; the
+clandestine fashion in which it had been brought under Peggie's notice;
+the extraordinary method adopted of procuring an interview with her--all
+these things had aroused Selwood's suspicions, and his natural sense of
+caution was at its full stretch as he walked across to the car,
+wondering what he and Peggie were about to confront.
+
+What they did confront was a pleasant-faced, white-haired, elderly lady,
+evidently a woman of fashion and of culture, who bent forward from her
+seat with a kindly, half-apologetic smile.
+
+"Miss Wynne?" she said inquiringly. "How do you do? And this gentleman
+is, no doubt, Mr. Selwood, of whom I have heard? You must forgive this
+strange conduct, this extraordinary manner of getting speech with you--I
+am not a free agent. Now, as I have something to say--will you both come
+into the car and hear it?"
+
+Peggie, who was greatly surprised at this reception, turned diffidently
+to her companion. And Selwood, who had been gazing earnestly at the
+elderly lady's face, and had seen nothing but good intention in it, felt
+himself considerably embarrassed.
+
+"I--well, really, this is such a very strange affair altogether that I
+don't know what we ought to do," he said. "May I suggest that if you
+wish to talk to Miss Wynne, we should go to her house? It's only just
+round the corner, and----"
+
+"But that's just what I am not to do," replied the lady, with an amused
+laugh. "I repeat--I am not exactly a free agent. It's all very strange,
+and very unpleasant, and sounds, no doubt, very mysterious, but I am
+acting--practically--under orders. Let me suggest something--will you
+and Miss Wynne come into the car, and I will tell the man to drive
+gently about until you have heard what I have to say? Come now!--I am
+not going to kidnap you, and you can't come to much harm by driving
+round about Portman Square for a few minutes, in the company of an old
+woman! Dickerson," she went on, as Selwood motioned Peggie to enter the
+car, "drive us very slowly round about here until I tell you to stop--go
+round the square--anywhere."
+
+The car moved gently up Baker Street, and Selwood glanced inquiringly at
+their captor.
+
+"May we have the pleasure of----"
+
+The elderly lady brought out a card-case and some papers.
+
+"I am Mrs. Engledew," she said. "I live in the Herapath Flats. I don't
+suppose you ever heard of me, Miss Wynne, but I knew your uncle very
+well--we had been acquaintances, nay, friends, for years. I thought it
+might be necessary to prove my _bona fides_," she continued, with a
+laugh, "so I brought some letters of Jacob Herapath's with me--letters
+written to me--you recognize his big, bold hand, of course."
+
+There was no mistaking Jacob Herapath's writing, and the two young
+people, after one glance at it, exchanged glances with each other.
+
+"Now you want to know why I am here," said Mrs. Engledew. "The answer
+is plain--if astonishing. I have managed to get mixed up in this matter
+of Jacob Herapath's murder! That sounds odd, doesn't it?--nevertheless,
+it's true. But we can't go into that now. And I cannot do more than tell
+you that I simply bring a message and want an answer. My dear!" she
+continued, laying a hand on Peggie's arm, "you do not wish to see
+Barthorpe Herapath hanged?"
+
+"We believe him innocent," replied Peggie.
+
+"Quite so--he is innocent--of murder, anyway," said Mrs. Engledew.
+"Now--I speak in absolute confidence, remember!--there are two men who
+know who the real murderer is. They are in touch with me--that is, one
+of them is, on behalf of both. I am really here as their emissary. They
+are prepared to give you and the police full particulars about the
+murder--for a price."
+
+Selwood felt himself grow more suspicious than ever. This lady was of
+charming address, pleasant smile, and apparently candid manners,
+but--price!--price for telling the truth in a case like this!
+
+"What price?" he asked.
+
+"Their price is ten thousand pounds--cash," answered Mrs. Engledew, with
+a little shrug of her shoulders. "Seems a great deal, doesn't it? But
+that is their price. They will not be moved from it. If Miss Wynne will
+agree to pay that sum, they will at once not only give their evidence as
+to the real murderer of Jacob Herapath, but they will point him out."
+
+"When?" demanded Selwood.
+
+"Tonight!" replied Mrs. Engledew. "Tonight--at an hour to be fixed after
+your agreement to their terms."
+
+Selwood felt himself in a difficult position. Mr. Tertius was out of
+town for the day, gone to visit an antiquarian friend in Berkshire: Mr.
+Halfpenny lived away down amongst the Surrey hills. Still, there was
+Cox-Raythwaite to turn to. But it seemed as if the lady desired an
+immediate answer.
+
+"You know these men?" he asked.
+
+"One only, who represents both," answered Mrs. Engledew.
+
+"Why not point him out to the police, and let them deal with them?"
+suggested Selwood. "They would get his evidence out of him without any
+question of price!"
+
+"I have given my word," said Mrs. Engledew. "I--the fact is, I am mixed
+up in this, quite innocently, of course. And I am sure that no living
+person knows the truth except these men, and just as sure that they will
+not tell what they know unless they are paid. The police could not make
+them speak if they didn't want to speak. They know very well that they
+have got the whip-hand of all of us in that respect!"
+
+"Of you, too?" asked Selwood.
+
+"Of me, too!" she answered. "Nobody in the world, I'm sure, knows the
+secret but these men. And it's important to me personally that they
+should reveal it. In fact, though I'm not rich, I'll join Miss Wynne in
+paying their price, so far as a thousand pounds is concerned. I would
+pay more, but I really haven't got the money--I daren't go beyond a
+thousand."
+
+Selwood felt himself impressed by this candid offer.
+
+"Precisely what do they ask--what do they propose?" he asked.
+
+"This. If you agree to pay them ten thousand pounds, you and Professor
+Cox-Raythwaite are to meet them tonight. They will then tell the true
+story, and they will further take you and the police to the man, the
+real murderer," answered Mrs. Engledew. "It is important that all this
+should be done tonight."
+
+"Where is this meeting to take place?" demanded Selwood.
+
+"It can take place at my flat: in fact, it must, because, as I say, I am
+unfortunately mixed up," said Mrs. Engledew. "If you agree to the terms,
+you are to telephone to me--I have written my number on the card--at two
+o'clock this afternoon. Then I shall telephone the time of meeting
+tonight, and you must bring the money with you."
+
+"Ten thousand pounds in cash--on Sunday!" exclaimed Selwood. "That, of
+course, is utterly impossible."
+
+"Not cash in that sense," replied Mrs. Engledew. "An open cheque will
+do. And, don't you see, that, I think, proves the _bona fides_ of the
+men. If they fail to do what they say they can and will do, you can stop
+payment of that cheque first thing tomorrow morning."
+
+"Yes, that's so," agreed Selwood. He glanced at Peggie, who was
+silently listening with deep interest. "I don't know how things stand,"
+he went on. "Mr. Halfpenny, Miss Wynne's solicitor, lives a long way out
+of town. Miss Wynne would doubtless cheerfully sacrifice ten thousand
+pounds to save her cousin----"
+
+"Oh, twenty thousand--anything!" exclaimed Peggie. "Don't let us
+hesitate about money, please."
+
+"But I don't know whether she can draw a cheque," continued Selwood. "At
+least, for such an amount as that. Perhaps Professor Cox-Raythwaite can
+tell us. Let me ask you a question or two, if you please, Mrs.
+Engledew," he went on. "You say you only know one of these men. Do you
+know his name?"
+
+"No--I don't," confessed Mrs. Engledew. "Everything is secret and
+mysterious."
+
+"Are you convinced--has he done anything to convince you--of his good
+faith?"
+
+"Yes--absolutely!"
+
+"You don't doubt his--their--ability to clear all this up?"
+
+"I'm quite sure they can clear it up."
+
+"Have you any idea as to the identity of the real murderer?"
+
+"Not the least!"
+
+"One more question, then," concluded Selwood. "Are the police to be
+there when Cox-Raythwaite and I come tonight?"
+
+"That I don't know," replied Mrs. Engledew. "All I know is--just what I
+am ordered to say. Pay them the money--they will tell the truth and take
+you and the police to the real criminal. One more thing--it is
+understood that you will not approach the police between now and this
+evening. That part--the police part--is to be left to them."
+
+"I understand," said Selwood. "Very well--we will get out, if you
+please, and we will go straight to Professor Cox-Raythwaite. At two
+o'clock I shall ring you up and give you our answer."
+
+He hurried Peggie into a taxi-cab as soon as Mrs. Engledew's car had
+gone away, and they went hastily to Endsleigh Gardens, where Professor
+Cox-Raythwaite listened to the strange story in dead silence.
+
+"Mrs. Engledew--lady living in Herapath Flats--old friend of
+Jacob's--possessed letters of his--instrument for two men in possession of
+secret--willing to fork out a thousand of her own," he muttered. "Gad!--I
+take that to be genuine, Selwood! The only question is for Peggie
+here--does she wish to throw away nine thousand to save Barthorpe's neck?"
+
+"The only question, Professor," said Peggie, reprovingly, "is--can I do
+it? Can I draw a cheque for that amount?"
+
+"Why not?" replied the Professor. "Everything's in order. Barthorpe
+withdrew that wretched caveat--the will's been proved--every penny that
+Jacob possessed is yours. Draw a cheque for fifty thousand, if you
+like!"
+
+"And you will go with Mr. Selwood?" asked Peggie, with a touch of
+anxiety which was not lost on the Professor.
+
+"Go with him--and take care of him, too," answered the Professor,
+digging his big fingers into Selwood's ribs. "Very good. Now stop here
+and lunch with me, and at two o'clock we'll telephone."
+
+He and Peggie stood breathlessly waiting in the hall that afternoon
+while Selwood was busy at the telephone in an adjacent lobby. Selwood
+came back to them nodding his head.
+
+"All right!" he said. "You and I, Professor, at her flat--tonight, at
+nine o'clock."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+THE INTERRUPTED DINNER-PARTY
+
+
+Triffitt's recent inquiries in connection with the Herapath affair had been
+all very well from a strictly professional point of view, but not so well
+from another. For nearly twelve months he had been engaged to a sweet girl,
+of whom he was very fond, and who thoroughly reciprocated his affection;
+up to the time of the Herapath murder he had contrived to spend a certain
+portion of each day with her, and to her he had invariably devoted the
+whole of his Sundays. In this love affair he was joined by his friend,
+to whom Triffitt's young lady had introduced her great friend, with whom
+Carver had promptly become infatuated. These ladies, both very young and
+undeniably charming, spent the greater part of the working week at the
+School of Needlework, in South Kensington, where they fashioned various
+beautiful objects with busy needles; Sundays they gave up to their
+swains, and every Sunday ended with a little dinner of four at some cheap
+restaurant whereat you could get quite a number of courses at the fixed
+price of half a crown or so and drink light wine which was very little
+dearer than pale ale. All parties concerned looked forward throughout the
+week to these joyful occasions; the girls wore their best frocks, and the
+young men came out bravely in the matter of neckties; there was laughter
+and gaiety and a general escape from the prosaic matters which obtained
+from Monday to Saturday--consequently, Triffitt felt it a serious thing
+that attention to this Herapath business had come to interfere with his
+love-making and his Sunday feast of mirth and gladness. More than once he
+had been obliged to let Carver go alone to the usual rendezvous; he himself
+had been running hither and thither after chances of news which never
+materialized, while his sweetheart played gooseberry to the more favoured
+people. And as he was very much in love, Triffitt had often been tempted to
+throw his clues and his theories to the winds, and to vow himself to the
+service of Venus rather than to that of Mercury.
+
+But on that Sunday which saw the white-haired lady interviewing Peggie
+Wynne and Selwood, Triffitt, to his great delight, found that newspaper
+requirements were not going to interfere with him. The hue-and-cry after
+the missing Burchill was dying down--the police (so Davidge told Triffitt
+in strict confidence) were of the firm opinion that Burchill had escaped
+to the continent--probably within a few hours of the moment wherein he
+made his unceremonious exit from Mr. Halfpenny's office. Even Markledew was
+not so keen about the Herapath affair as he had been. His policy was--a
+new day, a new affair. The Herapath mystery was becoming a little stale--it
+would get staler unless a fresh and startling development took place. As
+it was, nothing was likely to arise which would titillate the public until
+Barthorpe Herapath, now safely lodged in the remand prison, was brought
+to trial, or unless Burchill was arrested. Consequently, Triffitt was not
+expected to make up a half or a whole column of recent and sensational
+Herapath news every morning. And so he gladly took this Sunday for a return
+to the primrose paths. He and Carver met their sweethearts; they took them
+to the Albert Hall Sunday afternoon concert--nothing better offering in
+the middle of winter--they went to tea at the sweethearts' lodgings; later
+in the evening they carried them off to the accustomed Sunday dinner.
+
+Triffitt and Carver had become thoroughly seasoned men of the world in
+the matter of finding out good places whereat to dine well and cheaply.
+They knew all the Soho restaurants. They had sampled several in Oxford
+Street and in Tottenham Court Road. But by sheer luck they had found
+one--an Italian restaurant--in South Kensington which was, in their
+opinion, superior to all of their acquaintance. This establishment had
+many advantages for lovers. To begin with, it bore a poetical name--the
+Cafe Venezia--Triffitt, who frequently read Byron and Shelley to his
+adored one, said it made one think of moonlight and gondolas, and
+similar adjuncts to what he called _parfaite amour_. Then it was divided
+off into little cabinets, just holding four people--that was an
+advantage when you were sure of your company. And for the _prix fixe_ of
+two shillings they gave you quite a good dinner; also their Chianti was
+of exceptional quality, and according to the proprietor, it came
+straight from Siena.
+
+On this Sunday evening, then, Triffitt on one side of a table with his
+lady-love, Carver on the other with his, made merry, with no thought of
+anything but the joys of the moment. They had arrived at the last stages
+of the feast; the heroes puffed cigarettes and sipped Benedictine; the
+heroines daintily drank their sweetened coffee. They all chattered
+gaily, out of the fulness of their youthful hearts; not one of them had
+any idea that anything was going to happen. And in the midst of their
+lightsomeness, Triffitt, who faced a mirror, started, dropped his
+cigarette, upset his liqueur glass and turned pale. For an instant he
+clutched the tablecloth, staring straight in front of him; then with a
+great effort he controlled his emotion and with a cautious hissing of
+his breath, gazed warningly at Carver.
+
+"'Sh!" whispered Triffitt. "Not a word! And don't move--don't show a
+sign, any of you. Carver--turn your head very slowly and look behind
+you. At the bar!"
+
+At the entrance to that restaurant there was a bar, whereat it was
+possible to get a drink. There were two or three men, so occupied,
+standing at this bar at that moment--Carver, leisurely turning to
+inspect them, suddenly started as violently as Triffitt had started a
+moment before.
+
+"Good heavens!" he muttered. "Burchill!"
+
+"Quiet!" commanded Triffitt. "Quiet, all of you. By Gad!--this is----"
+
+He ended in an eloquent silence and with a glare at his companions
+which would have imposed silence on an unruly class-room. He was already
+at work--the quick, sure journalistic instinct had come up on top and
+was rapidly realizing the situation. That the man standing there,
+openly, calmly, taking a drink of some sort, was Frank Burchill he had
+no more doubt than of his own identity. The thing was--what was to be
+done?
+
+Triffitt was as quick of action as of thought--in two seconds he had
+made up his mind. With another warning glance at the startled girls, he
+bent across the table to Carver.
+
+"Carver!" he whispered. "Do exactly what I tell you. When Burchill goes
+out, Trixie and I'll follow him. You pay the bill--then you and Lettie
+jump into the first taxi you can get and go to Scotland Yard. Find
+Davidge! If Davidge isn't there, get somebody else. Wait there until I
+ring you up! What I'll do will be this--we'll follow Burchill, and if I
+see that he's going to take to train or cab I'll call help and stop him.
+You follow me? As soon as I've taken action, or run him to earth, I'll
+ring up Scotland Yard, and then----"
+
+"He's going," announced Carver, who had taken advantage of the many
+mirrors to keep his eye on Burchill. "He's off! I understand----"
+
+Triffitt was already leading his sweetheart quietly out. In the gloom of
+the street he saw Burchill's tall figure striding away towards Cromwell
+Road. Triffitt's companion was an athletically inclined young woman--long
+walks in the country on summer Sundays had toughened her powers of
+locomotion and she strode out manfully in response to Triffitt's command
+to hurry up.
+
+"Lucky that you were with me, Trixie!" exclaimed Triffitt. "You make a
+splendid blind. Supposing he does look round and sees that he's being
+followed? Why, he'd never think that we were after him. Slip your hand in
+my arm--he'll think we're just a couple of sweethearts, going his way.
+Gad!--what a surprise! And what a cheek he has--with all those bills out
+against him!"
+
+"You don't think he'll shoot you if he catches sight of you?" asked
+Trixie, anxiously. "He'd be sure to recognize you, wouldn't he?"
+
+"We'll not come within shooting distance," replied Triffitt grimly. "All
+I want to do is to track him. Of course, if he gets into any vehicle,
+I'll have to act. Let's draw a bit nearer."
+
+Burchill showed no sign of hailing any vehicle; indeed, he showed no
+sign of anything but cool confidence. It was certainly nearly nine
+o'clock of a dark winter evening, but there was plenty of artificial
+light in the streets, and Burchill made no attempt to escape its glare.
+He walked on, smoking a cigar, jauntily swinging an umbrella, he passed
+and was passed by innumerable people; more than one policeman glanced at
+his tall figure and took no notice. And Triffitt chuckled cynically.
+
+"There you are, Trixie!" he said. "There's a fellow who's wanted about as
+badly as can be, whose picture's posted up outside every police-station in
+London, and at every port in England, and he walks about, and stares at
+people, and passes policemen as unconcernedly as I do. The fact of the case
+is that if I went to that bobby and pointed Burchill out, and told the
+bobby who he is, all that bobby would say would be, 'Who are you a-kiddin'
+of?'--or words to that equivalent. And so--still ahead he goes, and we
+after him! And--where?"
+
+Burchill evidently knew very well where he was going. He crossed Cromwell
+Road, went up Queen's Road, turned into Queen's Gate Terrace, and
+leisurely pursuing his way, proceeded to cut through various streets and
+thoroughfares towards Kensington High Street. Always he looked forward;
+never once did he turn nor seem to have any suspicion that he was being
+followed. There was nothing here of the furtive slink, the frightened
+slouch of the criminal escaped from justice; the man's entire bearing
+was that of fearlessness; he strode across Kensington High Street in the
+full glare of light before the Town Hall and under the noses of several
+policemen.
+
+Five minutes later Triffitt pulled himself and Trixie up with a gasp. The
+chase had come to an end--for that moment, at any rate. Boldly, openly,
+with absolute nonchalance, Burchill walked into a brilliantly-lighted
+entrance of the Herapath Flats!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+THE YORKSHIRE PROVERB
+
+
+In the course of Triffitt's brief and fairly glorious journalistic
+career, he had enjoyed and suffered a few startling experiences. He had
+been fastened up in the darker regions of a London sewer in flood,
+wondering if he would ever breathe the fine air of Fleet Street again or
+go down with the rats that scurried by him. He had been down a coal-mine
+in the bad hour which follows an explosion. He had several times risked
+his neck; his limbs had often been in danger; he had known what it was
+to feel thumpings of the heart and catchings of the breath from sheer
+fright. He had come face to face with surprise, with astonishment, with
+audacious turnings of Fortune's glass. But never in all his life had he
+been so surprised as he now was, and after one long, low whistle he
+relieved his feelings by quoting verse:
+
+ "Is things what they seem?
+ Or is visions about?
+
+"Trixie!" he went on in a low, concentrated voice. "This licks all! This
+bangs Banagher! This--but words fail me, Trixie!"
+
+"What is it, Herbert?" demanded Trixie anxiously. "What does it all
+mean?"
+
+"Ah!" responded Triffitt, wildly smiting the crown of his deerstalker.
+"That's just it! What does it all mean, my dear! Gad!--this is--to use
+the common language of the common man, a fair licker! That that chap
+Burchill should march as bold as brass into those Herapath Flats,
+is--well, I couldn't be more surprised, Trixie, than if you were to tell
+me that you are the Queen of Sheba's grand-daughter! Not so much so, in
+fact. You see----"
+
+But at that moment a taxi-cab came speeding round the corner, and from
+it presently emerged Carver and Davidge. The detective, phlegmatic,
+quiet as ever, nodded familiarly to Triffitt and lifted his hat to
+Trixie.
+
+"Evening, Mr. Triffitt," he said quietly.
+
+"He's in there!" exclaimed Triffitt, grabbing Davidge's arm and pointing
+wildly to the brilliantly lighted entrance, wherein two or three
+uniformed servants lounged about to open doors and attend to elevators.
+"Walked in as if the whole place belonged to him! You know--Burchill!"
+
+"Ah, just so!" responded Davidge unconcernedly. "Quite so--I wouldn't
+name no names in the street if I were you, Mr. Triffitt. Ah!--to be
+sure, now. Well, of course, he would have to go in somewhere, wouldn't
+he?--as well here as anywhere, perhaps. Yes. Now, if this young lady
+would join the other young lady in the cab, Mr. Carver'll escort 'em
+home, and then he can come back here if he likes--we might have a bit of
+a job for him. And when the ladies retire, you and me can do our bit of
+business, d'ye see, Mr. Triffitt. What?"
+
+Trixie, urged towards the cab, showed signs of uneasiness.
+
+"Promise me you won't get shot, or poisoned, or anything, Herbert!" she
+entreated. "If you do----"
+
+"We aren't going in for any shooting tonight, miss," said Davidge
+gravely. "Some other night, perhaps. All quiet and serene tonight--just
+a little family gathering, as it were--all pleasant!"
+
+"But that dreadful man!" exclaimed Trixie, pointing to the door of the
+flats. "Supposing----"
+
+"Ah, but we won't suppose," answered Davidge. "He's all right, he is.
+Mild as milk we shall find him--my word on it, miss. Now," he continued,
+when he had gently but firmly assisted Trixie into the cab, said a word
+or two to Carver, taken Triffitt's arm, and led him across the street,
+"now we'll talk a bit, quietly. So he's gone in there, has he, Mr.
+Triffitt? Just so. Alone, now?"
+
+"Quite alone," replied Triffitt. "What's it all about--what does it
+mean? You seem remarkably cool about it!"
+
+"I shouldn't be much use in my trade if I didn't keep cool, Mr.
+Triffitt," answered Davidge. "You see, I know a bit--perhaps a good
+deal--of what's going on--or what's going to go on, presently. So will
+you. I'll take you in there."
+
+"There? Where?" demanded Triffitt.
+
+"Where he's gone," said Davidge. "Where--if I'm not mistaken--that
+chap's going."
+
+He pointed to a man who had come quickly round the corner from the
+direction of the High Street, a middle-sized, apparently well-dressed
+man, who hurried up the broad steps and disappeared within the
+glass-panelled doors.
+
+"That's another of 'em," observed Davidge. "And I'm a Dutchman if this
+taxi-cab doesn't hold t'other two. You'll recognize them, easy."
+
+Triffitt gaped with astonishment as he saw Professor Cox-Raythwaite and
+Selwood descend from the taxi-cab, pass up the steps, and disappear.
+
+"Talk of mysteries!" he said. "This----"
+
+Davidge pulled out an old-fashioned watch.
+
+"Nine o'clock," he remarked. "Come on--we'll go in. Now, then, Mr.
+Triffitt," he continued, pressing his companion's arm, "let me give you
+a tip. You mayn't know that I'm a Yorkshireman--I am! We've a good old
+proverb--it's often cast up against us: 'Hear all--say naught!' You'll
+see me act on it tonight--act on it yourself. And--a word in your
+ear!--you're going to have the biggest surprise you ever had in your
+life--and so's a certain somebody else that we shall see in five
+minutes! Come on!"
+
+He took Triffitt's arm firmly in his, led him up the stairs, in at the
+doors. The hall-porter came forward.
+
+"Take me up," said Davidge, "to Mrs. Engledew's flat."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+BURCHILL FILLS THE STAGE
+
+
+It seemed to Triffitt, who possessed, and sedulously cultivated, a sense
+of the dramatic, that the scene to which he and Davidge were presently
+conducted by a trim and somewhat surprised-looking parlour-maid, was one
+which might have been bodily lifted from the stage of any theatre
+devoted to work of the melodramatic order. The detective and the
+reporter found themselves on the threshold of a handsomely furnished
+dining-room, vividly lighted by lamps which threw a warm pink glow over
+the old oak furniture and luxurious fittings. On one side of the big
+table sat Professor Cox-Raythwaite and Selwood both looking a little
+mystified; at the further end sat a shortish, rather fat man, obviously
+a foreigner, who betrayed anxiety in every line of his rather oily
+countenance. And posed in an elegant attitude on the hearthrug, one
+elbow resting on the black marble of the mantelpiece, one hand toying
+with a cigarette, stood Burchill, scrupulously attired as usual, and
+conveying, or endeavouring to convey to whoever looked upon him, that
+he, of all people present, was master of himself and all of the scene.
+
+Triffitt took all this in at a glance; his next glance was at the
+elegant, white-haired lady who came forward to meet him and his
+companion. Davidge gave him a nudge as he executed a duck-like bow.
+
+"Servant, ma'am," said Davidge in his quietest and coolest manner. "I
+took the liberty of bringing a friend with me. You see, ma'am, as these
+proceedings are in what we may call the public way, Mrs. Engledew, no
+objection I'm sure to having a press gentleman at them. Mr. Triffitt,
+ma'am, of the _Argus_ newspaper. Known to these gentlemen--all of
+'em--unless it's the gentleman at the far end, there. Known, at any
+rate, to Mr. Selwood and the Professor," continued Davidge, nodding with
+much familiarity to the person he named. "And likewise to Mr. Burchill
+there. How do you do, sir, this evening? You and me, I think, has met
+before, and shall no doubt meet again. Well, ma'am, and now that I've
+come, perhaps I might ask a question. What have I come for?"
+
+Davidge had kept up this flow of talk while he took stock of his
+surroundings, and now, with another nudge of his companion's elbow, he
+took a chair between the door and the table, planted himself firmly in
+it, put his hands on top of his stout stick, and propped his chin on his
+hands. He looked at Mrs. Engledew once more, and then let his eyes make
+another inspection of her guests.
+
+"What have I come for, ma'am?" he repeated. "To hear those revelations
+you spoke of when you called on me this afternoon? Just so. Well, ma'am,
+the only question now is--who's going to make 'em? For," he added,
+sitting up again after his further inspection, and bestowing a general
+smile all round, "revelations, ma'am, is what I chiefly hanker after,
+and I shall be glad--delighted!--to hear any specimens from--anybody as
+chooses to make 'em!"
+
+Mrs. Engledew looked at Burchill as she resumed her seat.
+
+"I think Mr. Burchill is the most likely person to tell you what there
+is to tell," she said. "His friend----"
+
+"Ah!--the gentleman at the other end of the table, no doubt," observed
+Davidge. "How do you do, sir? And what might that gentleman's name be,
+now?"
+
+Burchill, who had been watching the detective carefully, threw away his
+cigarette and showed an inclination to speak.
+
+"Look here, Davidge!" he said. "You know very well why you're here--you're
+here to hear the real truth about the Herapath murder! Mrs. Engledew told
+you that this afternoon, when she called on you at Scotland Yard. Now the
+only two people who know the real truth are myself and my friend there--Mr.
+Dimambro."
+
+Selwood and Cox-Raythwaite, who until then had remained in ignorance of the
+little foreigner's identity, started and looked at him with interest. So
+this was the missing witness! But Davidge remained cool and unimpressed.
+
+"Ah, just so!" he said. "Foreign gentleman, no doubt. And you and Mr.
+Dimambro are the only persons who know the real truth about that little
+affair, eh, Mr. Burchill. Very good, so as----"
+
+"As Mr. Dimambro doesn't speak English very well----" began Burchill.
+
+"I speak it--you understand--enough to say a good many words--but not so
+good as him," observed Mr. Dimambro, waving a fat hand. "He say it for
+me--for both of us, eh?"
+
+"To be sure, sir, to be sure," said Davidge. "Mr. Burchill is gifted
+that way, of course. Well, Mr. Burchill, and what might this story be,
+now? Deeply interesting, I'll be bound."
+
+Burchill pulled a chair to the table, opposite Selwood and the
+Professor. He put the tips of his fingers together and assumed an
+explanatory manner.
+
+"I shall have to begin at the beginning," he said. "You'll all please to
+follow me closely. Now, to commence--Mrs. Engledew permits me to speak for
+her as well as for Mr. Dimambro. The fact is, I can put the circumstances
+of the whole affair into a consecutive manner. And I will preface what I
+have to say by making a statement respecting a fact in the life of the late
+Mr. Herapath which will, I believe, be substantiated by Mr. Selwood, my
+successor as secretary to the deceased gentleman. Mr. Herapath, in addition
+to being an authority on the building of up-to-date flats, was also more or
+less of an expert in precious stones. He not only bought and sold in these
+things, but he gave advice to his friends in matters relating to them. Mr.
+Selwood has, I am sure, had experience of that fact?"
+
+"To a certain extent--yes," agreed Selwood. "But I had not been long
+enough in Mr. Herapath's employ to know how much he went in for that sort
+of thing."
+
+"That is immaterial," continued Burchill. "We establish the fact that
+he did. Now we come to the first chapter of our story. This lady, Mrs.
+Engledew, a tenant of this flat since the Herapath Estate was built, is
+an old acquaintance--I am permitted to say, friend--of the late Jacob
+Herapath. She occasionally consulted him on matters of business. On
+November 12th last she consulted him on another affair--though it had, of
+course, a business complexion. Mrs. Engledew, by the death of a relative,
+had just come into possession of some old family jewels--chiefly diamonds.
+These diamonds, which, Mrs. Engledew tells me, had been valued by Spinks at
+about seven thousand pounds, were in very old, considerably worn settings.
+Mrs. Engledew wished to have them reset. Knowing that Jacob Herapath had
+great taste and knowledge in that direction, she saw him at his office on
+the noon of November 12th, showed him the diamonds, and asked his advice.
+Jacob Herapath--I am giving you Mrs. Engledew's account--told her to leave
+the diamonds with him, as he was going to see, that very day, an expert in
+that line, to whom he would show the stones with the idea of his giving
+him his opinion on what ought to be done with them. Mrs. Engledew handed
+him the diamonds in a small case, which he put in his pocket. I hope,"
+added Burchill, turning to Mrs. Engledew, "that I have given all this
+quite correctly?"
+
+"Quite," assented Mrs. Engledew. "It is perfectly correct."
+
+"Then," continued Burchill, "we pass on to Mr. Dimambro. Mr. Luigi Dimambro
+is a dealer in precious stones, who resides in Genoa, but travels widely
+about Europe in pursuance of his business. Mr. Dimambro had had several
+dealings with Jacob Herapath during past years, but previous to November
+12th last they had not met for something like twelve months. On their last
+previous meeting Jacob Herapath told Mr. Dimambro that he was collecting
+pearls of a certain sort and size--specimens of which he showed him--with a
+view to presenting his niece, Miss Wynne, with a necklace which was to be
+formed of them. He gave Dimambro a commission to collect such pearls for
+him. On November 11th last Dimambro arrived in London from the Continent,
+and wrote to Mr. Herapath to tell him of his arrival, and to notify him
+that he had brought with him some pearls of the sort he wanted. Mr.
+Herapath thereupon made an appointment with Dimambro at the House of
+Commons on the evening of November 12th at half-past ten o'clock. Dimambro
+kept that appointment, showed Mr. Herapath the pearls which he had brought,
+sold them to him, and received from him, in payment for them, a cheque for
+three thousand guineas. This transaction being conducted, Mr. Herapath drew
+from his pocket (the same pocket in which he had already placed the pearls,
+which I understand, were wrapped up in a small bag or case of wash-leather)
+the diamonds which Mrs. Engledew had entrusted to him, showed them to
+Dimambro, and asked his opinion as to how they could best be reset. It
+is not material to this explanation to repeat what Dimambro said on that
+matter--suffice it to say that Dimambro gave an expert opinion, that Mr.
+Herapath once more pocketed the diamonds, and soon afterwards left the
+House of Commons for his estate offices with both lots of valuable stones
+in his possession--some ten thousand pounds' worth in all. As for Dimambro,
+he went home to the hotel at which he was stopping--a little place called
+the Ravenna, in Soho, an Italian house--next morning, first thing, he
+cashed his cheque, and before noon he left for the Continent. He had not
+heard of the murder of Jacob Herapath when he left London, and he did not
+hear of it until next day. I think I have given Mr. Dimambro's account
+accurately--his account so far," concluded Burchill, turning to the
+Italian. "If not, he will correct me."
+
+"Quite right, quite right!" said Dimambro, who had listened eagerly. "I
+do not hear of the murder, eh, until I am in Berlin--it is, yes, next
+day--day after I leave London--that I hear of it, you understand? I then
+see it in the newspaper--English news, eh?"
+
+"Why did you not come back at once?" asked Cox-Raythwaite.
+
+Dimambro spread out his hands.
+
+"Oh, I have my business--very particular," he said. "Besides, it has
+nothing to do with me, eh? I don't see no--no connection between me and
+that--no! But in time, I do come back, and then--he tell you," he broke
+off, pointing to Burchill. "He tell you better, see?"
+
+"I am taking everything in order," said Burchill. "And for the present I
+have done with Mr. Dimambro. Now I come to myself. I shall have to go
+into details about myself which I should not give if it were not for
+these exceptional circumstances. Mr. Davidge, I am sure, will understand
+me. Well, about myself--you will all remember that at both the coroner's
+inquest and at the proceedings before the magistrate at which Barthorpe
+Herapath was present and I--for reasons well known!--was not, there was
+mention made of a letter which I had written to Jacob Herapath and was
+subsequently found in Barthorpe's possession, on his arrest. That letter
+was taken to be a blackmailing letter--I don't know whether any of you
+will believe me, and I don't care whether you do or not, but I declare
+that it was not meant to be a letter of that sort, though its wording
+might set up that opinion. However, Jacob Herapath resented that letter,
+and on its receipt he wrote to me showing that it had greatly displeased
+him. Now, I did not want to displease Jacob Herapath, and on receipt of
+his letter, I determined to see him personally at once. Being, of
+course, thoroughly familiar with his habits, I knew that he generally
+left the House of Commons about a quarter past eleven, every night when
+the House was sitting. I accordingly walked down to Palace Yard,
+intending to accost him. I arrived at the entrance to the Hall soon
+after eleven. A few minutes later Mountain, the coachman, drove up with
+the coupe brougham. I remained within the shadow of the porch--there
+were other people about--several Members, and men who were with them. At
+a quarter past eleven Jacob Herapath came down the Hall, accompanied by
+Dimambro. I knew Dimambro, though I had not seen him for some time--I
+used to see him, very occasionally, during my secretaryship to Mr.
+Herapath. When I saw these two in conversation, I drew back, and neither
+of them saw me. I did not want to accost Mr. Herapath in the presence of
+a second party. I watched him part from Dimambro, and I heard him tell
+Mountain to drive to the estate office. When both he and Dimambro had
+gone, I walked out into Parliament Square, and after thinking things
+over, I hailed a passing taxi-cab, and told the driver to go to
+Kensington High Street, and to pull up by the Metropolitan Station."
+
+Burchill here paused--to give Davidge a peculiarly knowing look.
+
+"Now I want you all--and particularly Mr. Davidge--to follow closely
+what I'm going to tell you," he continued. "I got out of the cab at the
+station in the High Street, dismissed it, walked a little way along the
+street, and then crossed over and made for the Herapath Flats--for the
+estate office entrance. I think you are all very well acquainted with
+that entrance. You know that it lies in a covered carriage way which
+leads from the side-street into the big quadrangle round which the flats
+are built. As I went up the side-street, on the opposite side, mind, to
+the entrance, I saw a man come out of the covered carriage way. That
+man I knew!"
+
+Burchill made a dramatic pause, looking impressively around him amidst a
+dead silence.
+
+"Knew!" he repeated, shaking his finger at the expectant faces. "Knew
+well! But--I am not going to tell you his name at this moment. For the
+present we will call him Mr. X."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+DAVIDGE'S TRUMP CARD
+
+
+Burchill paused for a moment, to give full effect to this dramatic
+announcement, which, to tell truth, certainly impressed every member of
+his audience but one. That one skilfully concealed his real feelings
+under a show of feigned interest.
+
+"You never say!" exclaimed Davidge, dropping into a favourite colloquialism
+of his native county. "Dear me, today! A man that you knew, Mr. Burchill,
+and that for the present you'll call Mr. X. You knew him well, then?"
+
+"Better than I know you," replied Burchill. He was beginning to be
+suspicious of Davidge's tone, and his resentment of it showed in his
+answer. "Well enough to know him and not to mistake him, anyhow! And
+mind you, there was nothing surprising in his being there at that time
+of night--that's a point that you should bear in mind, Davidge--it's in
+your line, that. I knew so much of Jacob Herapath's methods and doings
+that it was quite a reasonable thing for this man to be coming out of
+the estate offices just before midnight."
+
+"Exactly, sir--I follow you," said Davidge. "Ah!--and what might this
+Mr. X. do then, Mr. Burchill?"
+
+Burchill, who had addressed his remarks chiefly to the listeners on the
+other side of the table, and notably to Cox-Raythwaite, turned away from
+the detective and went on.
+
+"This man--Mr. X," he said, "came quickly out of the door, turned down the
+side-street a little, then turned back, passed the carriage-entrance, and
+went away up the street in the opposite direction. He turned on his own
+tracks so quickly that I was certain he had seen somebody coming whom he
+did not wish to meet. He----"
+
+"Excuse me a moment," broke in Cox-Raythwaite. "How was it X. didn't see
+you?"
+
+"Because I was on the opposite side of the street, in deep shadow,"
+replied Burchill. "Besides that, the instant I caught sight of him I
+quietly slipped back into a doorway. I remained there while he turned
+and hurried up the street, for I was sure he had seen somebody coming,
+and I wanted to find out who it was. And in another minute Barthorpe
+Herapath came along, walking quickly. Then I understood--X. had seen him
+in the distance, and didn't want to meet him."
+
+"Just so, just so," murmured Davidge. "To be sure."
+
+"Barthorpe Herapath turned into the carriageway and went into the
+office," continued Burchill. "Now, as I've already said, I knew Jacob
+Herapath's methods; I hadn't served him for nothing. He was the sort of
+man who makes no distinction between day and night--it was quite a
+common thing for him to fix up business appointments with people at
+midnight. I've been present at such appointments many a time. So, I
+dare say, has Mr. Selwood; any one who acted as secretary to Jacob
+Herapath knows well that he'd think nothing of transacting business at
+three o'clock in the morning. So I knew, of course, that Barthorpe had
+gone there to keep some such appointment. I also knew that it would
+probably last some time. Now I wanted to see Jacob Herapath alone. And
+as there didn't seem to be any chance of it just then, I went home to my
+flat in Maida Vale."
+
+"Walked in?" asked Davidge.
+
+"If you're particular as to the means, I took a taxi-cab at the Gardens
+end of the High Street," replied Burchill, half-contemptuously. He
+turned his attention to Selwood and the Professor again. "Now, I'm going
+to tell you the plain truth about what happened afterwards," he
+continued. "This part of the story is for the particular benefit of you
+two gentlemen, though it has its proper connection with all the rest of
+the narrative. I sat up rather late when I got home that night, and I
+lay in bed next day until afternoon--in fact, I'd only just risen when
+Barthorpe Herapath called on me at three o'clock. Now, as I don't have
+papers delivered, but go out to buy what I want, it's the fact that I
+never heard of Jacob Herapath's murder until Barthorpe told me of it,
+then! That's the truth. And I'll at once anticipate the question that
+you'll naturally want to ask. Why didn't I at once tell Barthorpe of
+what I'd seen the night before?--of the presence of the man whom we're
+calling Mr. X.?"
+
+"Just so!" murmured Davidge. "Ah, yes, why not?"
+
+"I'll tell you," continued Burchill. "Because Barthorpe immediately
+sprang upon me the matter of the will. And I just as immediately
+recognized--I think I may count myself as a quick thinker--that the
+really important matter just then was not the murder of Jacob Herapath,
+but the ultimate disposal of Jacob Herapath's immense wealth."
+
+"Clever!" sighed Davidge. "Uncommonly clever!"
+
+"Now, Professor Cox-Raythwaite, and you, Mr. Selwood," Burchill went on,
+adding new earnestness to his tone. "I want you to fully understand that
+I'm giving you the exact truth. I firmly believed at that moment, and I
+continued to believe until the eventful conference at Mr. Halfpenny's
+office, that the gentleman whom I had known as Mr. Tertius was in
+reality Arthur John Wynne, forger and ex-convict. I say I firmly
+believed it, and I'll tell you why. During my secretaryship to Jacob
+Herapath, he one day asked me to clear out a box full of old papers and
+documents. In doing so I came across an old North-country newspaper
+which contained a full account of the trial at Lancaster Assizes of
+Arthur John Wynne on various charges of forgery. Jacob Herapath's name,
+of course, cropped up in it, as a relative. The similarity of the names
+of Jacob Herapath's ward, Miss Wynne, and that of the forger, roused my
+suspicions, and I not only put two and two together, but I made some
+inquiries privately, and I formed the definite conclusion that Tertius
+and Wynne were identical, and that the semi-mystery of Tertius's
+residence in Jacob Herapath's house was then fully accounted for. So
+when Barthorpe told me what he did, and explained his anxiety about the
+will, I saw my way to upsetting that will, for his benefit and for my
+own. If I swore that I'd never signed that will, and could prove that
+Tertius was Wynne, the forger, why then, of course, the will would be
+upset, for it seemed to me that any jury would believe that Tertius, or
+Wynne, had forged the will for his daughter's benefit. And so Barthorpe
+and I fixed that up. Reprehensible, no doubt, gentlemen, but we all have
+to live, and besides, Barthorpe promised me that he'd treat Miss Wynne
+most handsomely. Well, that procedure was settled--with the result that
+we're all aware of. And now I'd like to ask Mr. Davidge there a
+question--as I'm about to tell him who the real murderer of Jacob
+Herapath was, perhaps he'll answer it. I take it, Davidge, that the only
+evidence you had against me in regard to the murder was the document
+which you found at my flat, by which Barthorpe Herapath promised to pay
+me ten per cent. on the value of the Herapath estate? That and the fact
+that Barthorpe and I were in league about the will? Come now--as all's
+being cleared up, isn't that so?"
+
+Davidge rubbed his chin with affected indifference.
+
+"Oh, well, you can put it down at something like that, if you like, Mr.
+Burchill," he answered. "You're a very clever young fellow, and I dare
+say you're as well aware of what the law about accessories is as I am.
+'Tisn't necessary for a party to a murder to be actually present at the
+execution of the crime, sir--no! And there's such a thing as being
+accessory after the crime--of course. Leave it at that, Mr. Burchill,
+leave it at that!"
+
+Cox-Raythwaite, who had been eyeing Burchill with ill-concealed disgust,
+spoke sharply.
+
+"And--the rest?" he asked.
+
+"I'm going along in order," answered Burchill coolly. "Well, I come to
+the time when Davidge there arrested Barthorpe and myself at Halfpenny
+and Farthing's, and when I escaped. There's no need to tell you what I
+did with myself," he went on, with an obvious sneer in the detective's
+direction. "But I can tell you that I didn't particularly restrict my
+movements. And eventually--a few days ago--I come into touch with
+Dimambro, who had returned to England. As I said before, we had met
+during the time I was secretary to Jacob Herapath. Dimambro, when I met
+him--accidentally--was on his way to the police, to tell them what he
+knew. I stopped him--he told his story to me instead. I told him mine.
+And the result of our deliberations was that we got an interview--at
+least I did--with Mrs. Engledew here, with respect to the diamonds which
+she had entrusted to Jacob Herapath. And----"
+
+"I should like to ask you a question, Mrs. Engledew," said Cox-Raythwaite,
+interrupting Burchill without ceremony. "Why did you not inform the police
+about your diamonds as soon as you heard of the murder?"
+
+Mrs. Engledew betrayed slight signs of confusion, and Davidge gave the
+questioner a look.
+
+"I think if I were you, I shouldn't go into that matter just now,
+Professor," he said apologetically. "Ladies, you know, have their reasons
+for these little--what shall we call 'em?--peculiarities. No, I wouldn't
+press that point, sir. We're having a nice, straight story--quite like
+a printed one!--from Mr. Burchill there, and I think we'd better let
+him come to what we may term the last chapter in his own way--what?"
+
+"I'm at the last chapter," said Burchill. "And it's a short one. I saw Mrs.
+Engledew and made certain arrangements with her. And just after they were
+made--yesterday in fact--Dimambro and I got a new piece of evidence. When
+Dimambro was collecting those pearls for Jacob Herapath he bought some
+from a well-known dealer in Amsterdam, a specialist in pearls. Yesterday,
+Dimambro got a letter from this man telling him that a small parcel of
+those very pearls had been sent to him from London, for sale. He gave
+Dimambro the name and address of the sender, who, of course, was the Mr. X.
+of whom I have spoken. So then Dimambro and I resolved to act, through Mrs.
+Engledew----"
+
+"For a slight consideration, I think," suggested Davidge dryly. "A matter
+of a little cheque, I believe, Mr. Burchill."
+
+"We've quite as much right to be paid for our detective services,
+amateur though they are, as you have for yours, Davidge," retorted
+Burchill. "However, I've come to an end, and it only remains for me to
+tell you who Mr. X. really is. He hasn't the slightest notion that he's
+suspected, and if you and your men, Davidge, go round to his house,
+which isn't half a mile away, you'll probably find him eating his Sunday
+evening supper in peace and quietness. The man is----"
+
+Davidge suddenly rose from his chair, nudging Triffitt as he moved. He
+laughed--and the laugh made Burchill start to his feet.
+
+"You needn't trouble yourself, Mr. Burchill!" said Davidge. "Much
+obliged to you for your talk, there's nothing like letting some folks
+wag their tongues till they're tired. I know who murdered Jacob Herapath
+as well as you do, and who your Mr. X. is. Jacob Herapath, gentlemen,"
+he added, turning to his astonished listeners, "was shot dead and robbed
+by his office manager, James Frankton, and if James Frankton's eating
+his Sunday supper in peace and quietness, it's in one of our cells, for
+I arrested him at seven o'clock this very evening--and with no help from
+you, Mr. Burchill! I'm not quite such a fool as I may look, my lad, and
+if I made one mistake when I let you slip I didn't make another when I
+got on the track of the real man. And now, ma'am," he concluded, with an
+old-fashioned bow to Mrs. Engledew, "there's no more to be said--by me,
+at all events, and I've the honour to wish you a good night. Mr.
+Triffitt--we'll depart."
+
+Outside, Davidge took the reporter's arm in a firm grip, and chuckled as
+he led him towards the elevator.
+
+"That's surprise one!" he whispered. "Wait till we get downstairs and
+into the street, and you'll have another, and it'll be of a bit livelier
+nature!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+THE SECOND WARRANT
+
+
+Davidge preserved a strict silence as he and Triffitt went down in the
+elevator, but when they had reached the ground floor he took the
+reporter's arm again, and as they crossed the entrance hall gave it a
+significant squeeze.
+
+"You'll see two or three rather heavy swells, some of 'em in evening
+dress, hanging about the door," he murmured. "Look like residents,
+coming in or going out, puffing their cigars and their cigarettes, eh?
+They're my men--all of 'em! Take no notice--there'll be your friend
+Carver outside--I gave him a hint. Join him, and hang about--you'll have
+something to do a bit of newspaper copy about presently."
+
+Triffitt, greatly mystified, joined Carver at the edge of the pavement
+outside the wide entrance door. Glancing around him he saw several men
+lounging about--two, of eminently military appearance, with evening
+dress under their overcoats, stood chatting on the lower steps; two or
+three others, all very prosperous looking, were talking close by. There
+was nothing in their outward show to arouse suspicion--at any other
+time, and under any other circumstances Triffitt would certainly have
+taken them for residents of the Herapath Flats. Carver, however, winked
+at him.
+
+"Detectives," he said. "They've gathered here while you were upstairs.
+What's up now, Triffitt? Heard anything?"
+
+"Piles!" answered Triffitt. "Heaps! But I don't know what this is all
+about. Some new departure. Hullo!--here's the secretary and the
+Professor."
+
+Cox-Raythwaite and Selwood just then appeared at the entrance door and
+began to descend the steps. Davidge, who had stopped on the steps to
+speak to a man, hailed and drew them aside.
+
+"What has gone on up there?" asked Carver. "Anything really----"
+
+Triffitt suddenly grasped his companion's shoulder, twisting him round
+towards the door. His lips emitted a warning to silence; his eyes
+signalled Carver to look.
+
+Burchill came out of the doors, closely followed by Dimambro. Jauntily
+swinging his walking-cane he began to descend, affecting utter
+unconsciousness of the presence of Cox-Raythwaite, Selwood, and Davidge.
+He passed close by the men in evening dress, brushing the sleeve of one.
+And the man thus brushed turned quickly, and his companion turned
+too--and then something happened that made the two reporters exclaim
+joyfully and run up the steps.
+
+"Gad!--that was quick--quick!" exclaimed Triffitt, with the delight of a
+schoolboy. "Never saw the bracelets put on more neatly. Bully for you,
+Davidge, old man!--got him this time, anyhow!"
+
+Burchill, taken aback by the sudden onslaught of Davidge's satellites,
+drew himself up indignantly and looked down at his bands, around the
+wrists of which his captors had snapped a pair of handcuffs. He lifted a
+face white with rage and passion and glanced at Cox-Raythwaite and
+Selwood.
+
+"Liars!" he hissed between his teeth. "You gave me safe conduct! It was
+understood that I was to come and go without interference, you hounds!"
+
+"Not with me, nor I should think with anybody, my lad," exclaimed
+Davidge, bustling forward. "Not likely! You forget that you're under
+arrest for the old charge yet, and though you'll get off for that, you
+won't go scot-free, my friend! I've got a second warrant for you, and
+the charge'll be read to you when you get to the station. You'll clear
+yourself of the charge of murder, but not of t'other charge, I'm
+thinking!"
+
+"Second warrant! Another charge!" growled Burchill. "What charge?"
+
+"I should think you know as well as I do," replied Davidge quietly.
+"You're a bigger fool than I take you for if you don't. Conspiracy, of
+course! It's a good thing to have two strings to one's bow, Mr. Frank
+Burchill, in dealing with birds like you. This is my second string. Take
+him off," he added, motioning to his men, "and get him searched, and put
+everything carefully aside for me--especially a cheque for ten thousand
+pounds which you'll find in one of his pockets."
+
+When the detectives had hurried Burchill into a taxi-cab which suddenly
+sprang into useful proximity to the excited group, Davidge spat on the
+ground and made a face. He motioned Cox-Raythwaite, Selwood, and the
+two reporters to go down the street; he himself turned to Dimambro. What
+he said to that highly-excited gentleman they did not hear, but the
+Italian presently walked off looking very crestfallen, while Davidge,
+joining them, looked highly pleased with himself.
+
+"Of course, you'll stop payment of that cheque at the bank first thing
+tomorrow, gentlemen," he said. "Though that'll only be for form's sake,
+because I shall take charge of it when I go round to the police-station
+presently--they'll have got Burchill searched when I get there. Of
+course, I wasn't going to say anything up there, but Mrs. Engledew has
+been in with us at this, and she took Burchill and Dimambro in as
+beautifully as ever I saw it done in my life! Clever woman, that! We
+knew about her diamonds, gentlemen, within a few hours of the discovery
+of the murder, and of course, I thought Barthorpe had got them; I did,
+mistaken though I was! I didn't want anybody to know about those
+diamonds, though, and I kept it all dark until these fellows came on the
+scene. And, anyway, we didn't get the real culprit through the diamonds,
+either!"
+
+"That's what we want to know," said Selwood. "Have you got the real
+culprit? Are you certain? And how on earth did you get him--a man that
+none of us ever suspected!"
+
+"Just so!" answered Davidge with a grim laugh. "As nice and quiet-mannered
+a man as ever I entered as a candidate for the gallows! It's very often
+the case, gentlemen. Oh, yes--it's true enough! He's confessed--crumpled
+up like a bit of tissue paper when we took him--confessed everything to me
+just before I came along here. Of course we didn't get him through anything
+we've heard tonight; quite different line altogether, and a simple one."
+
+"We should like to know about it," said Cox-Raythwaite. "Can't you give
+us a mere outline?"
+
+"I was going to," answered Davidge. "No secret about it. I may as well
+tell you that after hearing what Barthorpe Herapath insisted on saying
+before the magistrate, I began to feel that he was very likely telling
+the truth, and that somebody'd murdered and robbed his uncle just before
+he got to the offices. But, of course, there was nothing to connect the
+murder and robbery with any person that I knew of. Well, now then, this
+is how we got on the track. Only two or three days ago a little, quiet
+man, who turned out to be a bit of a property-owner down at Fulham, came
+to me and said that ever since Mr. Jacob Herapath's murder he'd been
+what he called studying over it, and he thought he ought to tell me
+something. He said he was a very slow thinker, and it had taken him a
+long time to think all this out. Then he told me his tale. He said that
+for some time Jacob Herapath had been waiting to buy a certain bit of
+land which he had to sell. On November 12th last he called to see Jacob
+at these offices, and they agreed on the matter, price to be L5,000.
+Jacob told him to come in at ten o'clock next morning, and in accordance
+with his usual way of doing business, he'd hand him the money in
+cash--notes, of course. Well, the chap called next morning, only to hear
+of what had happened, and so his business had fallen through. And it
+wasn't until some time later--he's a bit of a slow-witted fellow,
+dullish of brain, you understand," continued Davidge indulgently, "that
+he remembered a certain conversation, or rather a remark which Jacob
+Herapath made during that deal. This man, James Frankton, the manager,
+was present when the deal was being effected, and when they'd concluded
+terms, Jacob said, turning to Frankton. 'I'll get the money in notes
+from the bank this afternoon, Frankton, and if I don't give it to you in
+the meantime, you'll find the notes in the top left-hand drawer of my
+desk tomorrow morning.' Well, that was what the man told me; said he'd
+been bothering his brains in wondering if Jacob did draw that money, and
+so on--Frankton, of course, had told him that he knew nothing about it,
+and that as Jacob was dead, no more could be done in the matter. Now on
+that, I at once began some inquiries. I found out a thing or two--never
+mind what--one was to trace a hundred pound note which Frankton had
+cashed recently. I found, only yesterday morning, that that note was one
+of fifty similar notes paid to Jacob Herapath by his bankers in exchange
+for his own cheque on the afternoon of November 12th. And, on that, I
+had Frankton watched all yesterday, last night, and today, and as I
+said, I arrested him tonight--and, in all my experience I never saw a
+man more surprised, and never knew one who so lost his nerve."
+
+"And his confession?" asked Selwood.
+
+"Oh! ordinary," answered Davidge. "Jacob had made an appointment with
+him for half-past eleven or so. Got there a bit late, found his master
+sitting at his desk with a wad of bank notes on the blotting-pad, a
+paper of pearls on one side of him, a lot of diamond ornaments at the
+other--big temptation to a chap, who, as it turns out, was hard up, and
+had got into the hands of money-lenders. And, oh, just the ordinary
+thing in such cases, happened to have on him a revolver that he'd bought
+abroad, yielded to temptation, shot his man, took money and valuables,
+went home, and turned up at the office next day to lift his hands in
+horror at the dreadful news. You see what truth is, gentlemen, when you
+get at it--just a common, vulgar murder, for the sake of robbery. And
+he'll swing!"
+
+"'Just a common, vulgar murder, and he'll swing!'" softly repeated
+Cox-Raythwaite, as he and Selwood walked up the steps of the house in
+Portman Square half an hour later. "Well, that's solved, anyway. As for
+the other two----"
+
+"I suppose there's no doubt of their guilt with respect to their
+conspiring to upset the will?" said Selwood. "And that's a serious
+offence, isn't it?"
+
+"In this eminently commercial country, very," answered Cox-Raythwaite,
+sententiously. "Barthorpe and Burchill will inevitably retire to the
+shelter of a convict establishment for awhile. Um! Well, my boy, good
+night!"
+
+"Not coming in?" asked Selwood, as he put a key in the latch.
+
+The Professor gave his companion's shoulder a pressure of his big hand.
+
+"I think," he said, turning down the steps with a shy laugh, "I think
+Peggie will prefer to receive you--alone."
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+ _THE MYSTERY STORIES OF_
+
+ _J . S . F L E T C H E R_
+
+ "_We always feel as though we were really spreading happiness when we
+ can announce a genuinely satisfactory mystery story, such as J. S.
+ Fletcher's new one._"--N. P. D. in the New York Globe.
+
+THE MIDDLE TEMPLE MURDER [1918]
+
+"Unquestionably, _the_ detective story of the season and, therefore, one
+which no lover of detective fiction should miss."--_The Broadside._
+
+THE TALLEYRAND MAXIM [1920]
+
+"A crackerjack mystery tale; the story of Linford Pratt, who earnestly
+desired to get on in life, by hook or by crook--with no objection
+whatever to crookedness, so long at it could be performed in safety and
+secrecy."--_Knickerbocker Press._
+
+THE PARADISE MYSTERY [1920]
+
+"As a weaver of detective tales Mr. Fletcher is entitled to a seat among
+the elect. His numerous followers will find his latest book fully as
+absorbing as anything from his pen that has previously appeared."--_New
+York Times._
+
+DEAD MEN'S MONEY [1920]
+
+"The story is one that holds the reader with more than the mere interest
+of sensational events; Mr. Fletcher writes in a notable style."--_Newark
+Evening News._
+
+THE ORANGE-YELLOW DIAMOND [1921]
+
+". . . A rattling good yarn. . . . An uncommonly well written tale."--_New
+York Times._
+
+THE CHESTERMARKE INSTINCT [1921]
+
+"Mr. Fletcher is a master of plot. . . . To tell a story as well as this
+is a literary achievement."--_Boston Transcript._
+
+THE BOROUGH TREASURER [1921]
+
+"As mystifying a tale as even Mr. Fletcher himself has written."--_New
+York Times._
+
+THE HERAPATH PROPERTY [1921]
+
+Numerous complications lead from the murder of Jacob Herapath and the
+search for his will.
+
+SCARHAVEN KEEP [1922]
+
+The mystery of the disappearance of Bassett Oliver, famous actor.
+
+RAVENSDENE COURT [1922]
+
+Two men are struck down by an unseen hand, at the same time in widely
+separated places--who killed them?
+
+ _$2.00 net each at all booksellers or from the Publisher_
+
+ ALFRED A. KNOPF, New York.
+
+
+
+
+TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES
+
+
+The advertisement "The Mystery Stories of J. S. Fletcher" has been moved
+from the front of the book to the back.
+
+Spacing around ellipses and em-dashes is as in the original.
+
+The following corrections have been applied:
+
+ Advertisement: "As mystifying{original had mystifyng} a tale as
+ even Mr. Fletcher himself has written."
+
+ Page vi: XXIV{original had XIV} COLD STEEL
+
+ Page 18: but when she had left the room to make ready for the
+ drive Mr.{original omitted period} Tertius turned to Selwood.
+
+ Page 66: the detective, armed with a magnifying glass, was
+ examining the edges of the door, the smooth backs of chairs,
+ even the surface of the desk, presumably for
+ finger-marks{original had fingermarks}.
+
+ Page 72: "Mr. Selwood!" she exclaimed imploringly. "You--I
+ can't.{The original text has no em-dash, and it's not clear what
+ the author's intention was.} You open it, and--"
+
+ Page 85: "Pardon," interrupted Burchill, "a{original had A}
+ holograph?
+
+ Page 128: And it was as well that he was not looking{original
+ had look-} at Triffitt
+
+ Page 160: perhaps you'll{original had you'l} drop me a line and
+ make an appointment at your office some day--then I'll call,
+ d'you see?"{original omitted closing quotation mark}
+
+ Page 166: "So long as justice is done," remarked
+ Peggie.{original omitted period}
+
+ Page 178: There were peculiarities about the fellow, said
+ Triffitt{original had Triffit}, which you couldn't forget
+
+ Page 186: "All right," said Triffitt, "keep{original had Keep} a
+ still tongue as regards me
+
+ Page 186: {original had a quotation mark here}Outside Triffitt
+ gave his companion's arm a confidential squeeze.
+
+ Page 187: Markledew{original had Markledek} listened to
+ Triffitt's story next day in his usual rapt silence.
+
+ Page 196: "Then we'll get to work," said Davidge. "{original
+ omitted quotation mark}Mr. Triffitt, I can't ask you to come
+ with us
+
+ Page 201: "I haven't{original had haven'} the least objection
+ to Cox-Raythwaite's presence, nor yours," said Barthorpe.
+
+ Page 211: Peggie Wynne, who during Barthorpe's last speech had
+ manifested signs of a desire to speak, and had begun to produce
+ a sealed packet from her muff.{original had a superfluous
+ quotation mark here}
+
+ Page 214: as they{original had ast hey} went on, quietly rose
+ from his chair.
+
+ Page 218: Is it not probable that if he wanted to make a will
+ he{original had be} would have employed me
+
+ Page 273: Peggie{original had Peggy} Wynne had never been so
+ glad of anything in her life as for Selwood's immediate presence
+ at that moment
+
+ Page 287: You follow me? As soon as I've taken action, or run
+ him to earth, I'll ring up Scotland Yard, and{original had an}
+ then----"
+
+ Page 293: "Nine o'clock," he remarked. "{original omitted this
+ quotation mark}Come on--we'll go in. Now, then, Mr. Triffitt,"
+ he continued,
+
+The following unusual spellings are as printed:
+
+ Page 143: He flung Markledew's half-sheet of notepaper before
+ the news editor, and the news editor, seeing the great man's
+ sprawling caligraphy{sic}, read, wonderingly:--
+
+The following words appear with and without a hyphen. They have been
+left as in the original.
+
+ bank-notes/banknotes
+
+ business-like/businesslike
+
+ hearth-rug/hearthrug
+
+ note-book/notebook
+
+ note-paper/notepaper
+
+ parlour-maid/parlourmaid
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Herapath Property, by J. S. Fletcher
+
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