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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:22:48 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:22:48 -0700 |
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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Leavenworth case</div> +<p style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em;'>A lawyer’s story</p> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Anna Katharine Green</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: May 1, 2003 [eBook #4047]<br /> +[Most recently updated: July 31, 2022]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: David Moynihan, and David Widger</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LEAVENWORTH CASE ***</div> + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="figcenter illowp70" id="cover"> + <img class="w100" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="cover created by the transcriber" /> +</div> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h1>THE LEAVENWORTH CASE</h1> +<p class="center p2 fs150">A Lawyer’s Story</p> + +<p class="center p4 fs175">By Anna Katharine Green</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<div class="figcenter illowp70" id="frontispiece"> +<img class="w100" src="images/frontispiece.jpg" alt="" /> +<div class="caption">“I did not go, but stood watching the firelight flicker on her black dress”</div> +</div> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak pad2" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</h2> + +<table class="autotable"> +<tr> + +<td class="tdr"></td> +<td class="tdc lht">BOOK I.</td> +<td class="tdr"></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr"></td> +<td class="tdc">THE PROBLEM</td> +<td class="tdr"></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr"></td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +<td class="tdr fs90"><span class="fs80">PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">I.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">“A GREAT CASE”</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#I_A_GREAT_CASE">1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">II.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">THE CORONER’S INQUEST</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#II_THE_CORONERS_INQUEST">11</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">III.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">FACTS AND DEDUCTIONS</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#III_FACTS_AND_DEDUCTIONS">17</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">IV.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">A CLUE</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#IV_A_CLUE">36</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">V.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">EXPERT TESTIMONY</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#V_EXPERT_TESTIMONY">43</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">VI.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">SIDE-LIGHTS</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#VI_SIDE-LIGHTS">51</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">VII.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">MARY LEAVENWORTH</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#VII_MARY_LEAVENWORTH">57</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">VIII.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#VIII_CIRCUMSTANTIAL_EVIDENCE">65</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">IX.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">A DISCOVERY</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#IX_A_DISCOVERY">80</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">X.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">MR. GRYCE RECEIVES NEW IMPETUS</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#X_MR_GRYCE_RECEIVES_NEW_IMPETUS">90</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XI.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">THE SUMMONS</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XI_THE_SUMMONS">101</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XII.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">ELEANORE</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XII_ELEANORE">108</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XIII.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">THE_PROBLEM</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XIII_THE_PROBLEM">115</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr"></td> +<td class="tdc lht">BOOK II.</td> +<td class="tdr"></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr"></td> +<td class="tdc">HENRY CLAVERING</td> +<td class="tdr"></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XIV.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">MR. GRYCE AT HOME</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XIV_MR_GRYCE_AT_HOME">123</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XV.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">WAYS OPENING</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XV_WAYS_OPENING">136</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XVI.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">THE WILL OF A MILLIONAIRE</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XVI_THE_WILL_OF_A_MILLIONAIRE">146</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XVII.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">THE BEGINNING OF GREAT SURPRISES</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XVII_THE_BEGINNING_OF_GREAT_SURPRISES">151</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XVIII.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">ON THE STAIRS</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XVIII_ON_THE_STAIRS">162</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XIX.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">IN MY OFFICE</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XIX_IN_MY_OFFICE">170</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XX.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">“TRUEMAN! TRUEMAN! TRUEMAN!”</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XX_TRUEMAN_TRUEMAN_TRUEMAN">177</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XXI.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">A PREJUDICE</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XXI_A_PREJUDICE">183</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XXII.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">PATCH-WORK</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XXII_PATCH-WORK">191</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XXIII.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">THE STORY OF A CHARMING WOMAN</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XXIII_THE_STORY_OF_A_CHARMING_WOMAN">210</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XXIV.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">A REPORT FOLLOWED BY SMOKE</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XXIV_A_REPORT_FOLLOWED_BY_SMOKE">220</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XXV.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">TIMOTHY COOK</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XXV_TIMOTHY_COOK">230</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XXVI.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">MR. GRYCE EXPLAINS HIMSELF</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XXVI_MR_GRYCE_EXPLAINS_HIMSELF">239</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr"></td> +<td class="tdc lht">BOOK III.</td> +<td class="tdr"></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr"></td> +<td class="tdc">HANNAH</td> +<td class="tdr"></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XXVII.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">AMY BELDEN</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XXVII_AMY_BELDEN">251</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XXVIII.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">A WEIRD EXPERIENCE</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XXVIII_A_WEIRD_EXPERIENCE">258</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XXIX.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">THE MISSING WITNESS</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XXIX_THE_MISSING_WITNESS">272</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XXX.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">BURNED PAPER</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XXX_BURNED_PAPER">278</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XXXI.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">Q</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XXXI_Q">285</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XXXII.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">MRS. BELDEN’S NARRATIVE</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XXXII_MRS_BELDENS_NARRATIVE">296</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XXXIII.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">UNEXPECTED TESTIMONY</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XXXIII_UNEXPECTED_TESTIMONY">325</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr"></td> +<td class="tdc lht">BOOK IV.</td> +<td class="tdr"></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr"></td> +<td class="tdc hang">THE PROBLEM SOLVED</td> +<td class="tdr"></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XXXIV.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">MR. GRYCE RESUMES CONTROL</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XXXIV_MR_GRYCE_RESUMES_CONTROL">332</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XXXV.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">FINE WORK</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XXXV_FINE_WORK">351</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XXXVI.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">GATHERED THREADS</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XXXVI_GATHERED_THREADS">364</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XXXVII.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">CULMINATION</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XXXVII_CULMINATION">373</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop"> XXXVIII.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">A FULL CONFESSION</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XXXVIII_A_FULL_CONFESSION">384</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdrtop">XXXIX.</td> +<td class="tdl hang">THE OUTCOME OF A GREAT CRIME</td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#XXXIX_THE_OUTCOME_OF_A_GREAT_CRIME">405</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="Illustrations">Illustrations</h2> +</div> + + + +<table class="autotable"> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"></td> +<td class="tdc"></td> +<td class="tdr"><span class="fs80">PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl hang">“I did not go, but stood watching the firelight flicker on her black dress”</td> +<td class="tdc"></td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#frontispiece">Frontispiece</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl hang">“What was my astonishment to come upon Miss Eleanore Leavenworth standing at the side of her uncle’s bed, with his pistol in her hand”</td> +<td class="tdc"></td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#i-048">48</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl hang">“Pausing only long enough on the threshold to compose myself for the interview, I lifted my hand to knock”</td> +<td class="tdc"></td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#i-050">50</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl hang">“Her whole appearance was so startling, so extraordinary, that I held my breath in surprise”</td> +<td class="tdc"></td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#i-052">52</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl hang">“She . . . was fumbling with the waist of her dress in a way to convince me she had something concealed there which she was anxious to dispose of”</td> +<td class="tdc"></td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#i-088">88</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl hang">“He pushed me upwards. ‘Go back!’ he whispered, . . . ‘Go back!’”</td> +<td class="tdc"></td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#i-164">164</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl hang">“I could not prevent a feeling of sickly apprehension from seizing me as I turned towards the silent figure stretched so near”</td> +<td class="tdc"></td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#i-276">276</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl hang">“I crawled up on to the ledge of the slanting roof last night . . . and . . . saw her moving round the room”</td> +<td class="tdc"></td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#i-280">280</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl hang">“At the sight of his face, the man in our arms quivered, shrieked, and gave one bound that would have overturned Mr. Clavering, . . . had not Mr. Gryce interposed”</td> +<td class="tdc"></td> +<td class="tdrbot"><a href="#i-374">374</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="BOOK_I_THE_PROBLEM">BOOK I. THE PROBLEM</h2> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="I_A_GREAT_CASE">I. “A GREAT CASE”</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“A deed of dreadful note.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent11">Macbeth.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>I had been a junior partner in the firm of Veeley, Carr & Raymond, +attorneys and counsellors at law, for about a year, when one morning, in +the temporary absence of both Mr. Veeley and Mr. Carr, there came into +our office a young man whose whole appearance was so indicative of haste +and agitation that I involuntarily rose at his approach and impetuously +inquired:</p> + +<p>“What is the matter? You have no bad news to tell, I hope.”</p> + +<p>“I have come to see Mr. Veeley; is he in?”</p> + +<p>“No,” I replied; “he was unexpectedly called away this morning to +Washington; cannot be home before to-morrow; but if you will make your +business known to me——”</p> + +<p>“To you, sir?” he repeated, turning a very cold but steady eye on mine; +then, seeming to be satisfied with his scrutiny, continued, “There is no +reason why I shouldn’t; my business is no secret. I came to inform him +that Mr. Leavenworth is dead.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Leavenworth!” I exclaimed, falling back a step. Mr. Leavenworth was +an old client of our firm, to say nothing of his being the particular +friend of Mr. Veeley.</p> + +<p>“Yes, murdered; shot through the head by some unknown person while +sitting at his library table.”</p> + +<p>“Shot! murdered!” I could scarcely believe my ears.</p> + +<p>“How? when?” I gasped.</p> + +<p>“Last night. At least, so we suppose. He was not found till this +morning. I am Mr. Leavenworth’s private secretary,” he explained, “and +live in the family. It was a dreadful shock,” he went on, “especially to +the ladies.”</p> + +<p>“Dreadful!” I repeated. “Mr. Veeley will be overwhelmed by it.”</p> + +<p>“They are all alone,” he continued in a low business-like way +I afterwards found to be inseparable from the man; “the Misses +Leavenworth, I mean—Mr. Leavenworth’s nieces; and as an inquest is +to be held there to-day it is deemed proper for them to have some one +present capable of advising them. As Mr. Veeley was their uncle’s best +friend, they naturally sent me for him; but he being absent I am at a +loss what to do or where to go.”</p> + +<p>“I am a stranger to the ladies,” was my hesitating reply, “but if I can +be of any assistance to them, my respect for their uncle is such——”</p> + +<p>The expression of the secretary’s eye stopped me. Without seeming to +wander from my face, its pupil had suddenly dilated till it appeared to +embrace my whole person with its scope.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” he finally remarked, a slight frown, testifying to +the fact that he was not altogether pleased with the turn affairs +were taking. “Perhaps it would be best. The ladies must not be left +alone——”</p> + +<p>“Say no more; I will go.” And, sitting down, I despatched a hurried +message to Mr. Veeley, after which, and the few other preparations +necessary, I accompanied the secretary to the street.</p> + +<p>“Now,” said I, “tell me all you know of this frightful affair.”</p> + +<p>“All I know? A few words will do that. I left him last night sitting as +usual at his library table, and found him this morning, seated in the +same place, almost in the same position, but with a bullet-hole in his +head as large as the end of my little finger.”</p> + +<p>“Dead?”</p> + +<p>“Stone-dead.”</p> + +<p>“Horrible!” I exclaimed. Then, after a moment, “Could it have been a +suicide?”</p> + +<p>“No. The pistol with which the deed was committed is not to be found.”</p> + +<p>“But if it was a murder, there must have been some motive. Mr. +Leavenworth was too benevolent a man to have enemies, and if robbery was +intended——”</p> + +<p>“There was no robbery. There is nothing missing,” he again interrupted. +“The whole affair is a mystery.”</p> + +<p>“A mystery?”</p> + +<p>“An utter mystery.”</p> + +<p>Turning, I looked at my informant curiously. The inmate of a house in +which a mysterious murder had occurred was rather an interesting object. +But the good-featured and yet totally unimpressive countenance of the +man beside me offered but little basis for even the wildest imagination +to work upon, and, glancing almost immediately away, I asked:</p> + +<p>“Are the ladies very much overcome?”</p> + +<p>He took at least a half-dozen steps before replying.</p> + +<p>“It would be unnatural if they were not.” And whether it was the +expression of his face at the time, or the nature of the reply itself, +I felt that in speaking of these ladies to this uninteresting, +self-possessed secretary of the late Mr. Leavenworth, I was somehow +treading upon dangerous ground. As I had heard they were very +accomplished women, I was not altogether pleased at this discovery. It +was, therefore, with a certain consciousness of relief I saw a Fifth +Avenue stage approach.</p> + +<p>“We will defer our conversation,” said I. “Here’s the stage.”</p> + +<p>But, once seated within it, we soon discovered that all intercourse upon +such a subject was impossible. Employing the time, therefore, in +running over in my mind what I knew of Mr. Leavenworth, I found that my +knowledge was limited to the bare fact of his being a retired merchant +of great wealth and fine social position who, in default of possessing +children of his own, had taken into his home two nieces, one of whom had +already been declared his heiress. To be sure, I had heard Mr. Veeley +speak of his eccentricities, giving as an instance this very fact of his +making a will in favor of one niece to the utter exclusion of the other; +but of his habits of life and connection with the world at large, I knew +little or nothing.</p> + +<p>There was a great crowd in front of the house when we arrived there, and +I had barely time to observe that it was a corner dwelling of unusual +depth when I was seized by the throng and carried quite to the foot of +the broad stone steps. Extricating myself, though with some difficulty, +owing to the importunities of a bootblack and butcher-boy, who seemed +to think that by clinging to my arms they might succeed in smuggling +themselves into the house, I mounted the steps and, finding the +secretary, by some unaccountable good fortune, close to my side, +hurriedly rang the bell. Immediately the door opened, and a face I +recognized as that of one of our city detectives appeared in the gap.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Gryce!” I exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“The same,” he replied. “Come in, Mr. Raymond.” And drawing us quietly +into the house, he shut the door with a grim smile on the disappointed +crowd without. “I trust you are not surprised to see me here,” said he, +holding out his hand, with a side glance at my companion.</p> + +<p>“No,” I returned. Then, with a vague idea that I ought to introduce the +young man at my side, continued: “This is Mr. ——, Mr. ——,—excuse +me, but I do not know your name,” I said inquiringly to my companion. +“The private secretary of the late Mr. Leavenworth,” I hastened to add.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” he returned, “the secretary! The coroner has been asking for you, +sir.”</p> + +<p>“The coroner is here, then?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; the jury have just gone up-stairs to view the body; would you like +to follow them?”</p> + +<p>“No, it is not necessary. I have merely come in the hope of being of +some assistance to the young ladies. Mr. Veeley is away.”</p> + +<p>“And you thought the opportunity too good to be lost,” he went on; +“just so. Still, now that you are here, and as the case promises to be +a marked one, I should think that, as a rising young lawyer, you would +wish to make yourself acquainted with it in all its details. But follow +your own judgment.”</p> + +<p>I made an effort and overcame my repugnance. “I will go,” said I.</p> + +<p>“Very well, then, follow me.”</p> + +<p>But just as I set foot on the stairs I heard the jury descending, so, +drawing back with Mr. Gryce into a recess between the reception room and +the parlor, I had time to remark:</p> + +<p>“The young man says it could not have been the work of a burglar.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!” fixing his eye on a door-knob near by.</p> + +<p>“That nothing has been found missing—”</p> + +<p>“And that the fastenings to the house were all found secure this +morning; just so.”</p> + +<p>“He did not tell me that. In that case”—and I shuddered—“the murderer +must have been in the house all night.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce smiled darkly at the door-knob.</p> + +<p>“It has a dreadful look!” I exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce immediately frowned at the door-knob.</p> + +<p>And here let me say that Mr. Gryce, the detective, was not the thin, +wiry individual with the piercing eye you are doubtless expecting to +see. On the contrary, Mr. Gryce was a portly, comfortable personage with +an eye that never pierced, that did not even rest on <i>you</i>. If it rested +anywhere, it was always on some insignificant object in the vicinity, +some vase, inkstand, book, or button. These things he would seem to take +into his confidence, make the repositories of his conclusions; but as +for you—you might as well be the steeple on Trinity Church, for all +connection you ever appeared to have with him or his thoughts. At +present, then, Mr. Gryce was, as I have already suggested, on intimate +terms with the door-knob.</p> + +<p>“A dreadful look,” I repeated.</p> + +<p>His eye shifted to the button on my sleeve.</p> + +<p>“Come,” he said, “the coast is clear at last.”</p> + +<p>Leading the way, he mounted the stairs, but stopped on the upper +landing. “Mr. Raymond,” said he, “I am not in the habit of talking much +about the secrets of my profession, but in this case everything depends +upon getting the right clue at the start. We have no common villainy +to deal with here; genius has been at work. Now sometimes an absolutely +uninitiated mind will intuitively catch at something which the most +highly trained intellect will miss. If such a thing should occur, +remember that I am your man. Don’t go round talking, but come to me. For +this is going to be a great case, mind you, a great case. Now, come on.”</p> + +<p>“But the ladies?”</p> + +<p>“They are in the rooms above; in grief, of course, but tolerably +composed for all that, I hear.” And advancing to a door, he pushed it +open and beckoned me in.</p> + +<p>All was dark for a moment, but presently, my eyes becoming accustomed to +the place, I saw that we were in the library.</p> + +<p>“It was here he was found,” said he; “in this room and upon this +very spot.” And advancing, he laid his hand on the end of a large +baize-covered table that, together with its attendant chairs, occupied +the centre of the room. “You see for yourself that it is directly +opposite this door,” and, crossing the floor, he paused in front of the +threshold of a narrow passageway, opening into a room beyond.<a id="FNanchor_A" href="#Footnote_A" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> “As the +murdered man was discovered sitting in this chair, and consequently with +his back towards the passageway, the assassin must have advanced through +the doorway to deliver his shot, pausing, let us say, about here.” And +Mr. Gryce planted his feet firmly upon a certain spot in the carpet, +about a foot from the threshold before mentioned.</p> + +<p>“But—” I hastened to interpose.</p> + +<p>“There is no room for ‘but,’” he cried. “We have studied the situation.” +And without deigning to dilate upon the subject, he turned immediately +about and, stepping swiftly before me, led the way into the passage +named. “Wine closet, clothes closet, washing apparatus, towel-rack,” +he explained, waving his hand from side to side as we hurried through, +finishing with “Mr. Leavenworth’s private apartment,” as that room of +comfortable aspect opened upon us.</p> + +<p>Mr. Leavenworth’s private apartment! It was here then that <i>it</i> ought +to be, the horrible, blood-curdling <i>it</i> that yesterday was a living, +breathing man. Advancing to the bed that was hung with heavy curtains, +I raised my hand to put them back, when Mr. Gryce, drawing them from +my clasp, disclosed lying upon the pillow a cold, calm face looking so +natural I involuntarily started.</p> + +<p>“His death was too sudden to distort the features,” he remarked, turning +the head to one side in a way to make visible a ghastly wound in the +back of the cranium. “Such a hole as that sends a man out of the world +without much notice. The surgeon will convince you it could never have +been inflicted by himself. It is a case of deliberate murder.”</p> + +<p>Horrified, I drew hastily back, when my glance fell upon a door situated +directly opposite me in the side of the wall towards the hall. It +appeared to be the only outlet from the room, with the exception of the +passage through which we had entered, and I could not help wondering +if it was through this door the assassin had entered on his roundabout +course to the library. But Mr. Gryce, seemingly observant of my glance, +though his own was fixed upon the chandelier, made haste to remark, as +if in reply to the inquiry in my face:</p> + +<p>“Found locked on the inside; may have come that way and may not; we +don’t pretend to say.”</p> + +<p>Observing now that the bed was undisturbed in its arrangement, I +remarked, “He had not retired, then?”</p> + +<p>“No; the tragedy must be ten hours old. Time for the murderer to have +studied the situation and provided for all contingencies.”</p> + +<p>“The murderer? Whom do you suspect?” I whispered.</p> + +<p>He looked impassively at the ring on my finger.</p> + +<p>“Every one and nobody. It is not for me to suspect, but to detect.” And +dropping the curtain into its former position he led me from the room.</p> + +<p>The coroner’s inquest being now in session, I felt a strong desire to be +present, so, requesting Mr. Gryce to inform the ladies that Mr. Veeley +was absent from town, and that I had come as his substitute, to render +them any assistance they might require on so melancholy an occasion, I +proceeded to the large parlor below, and took my seat among the various +persons there assembled.</p> + + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTE:</h3> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a id="Footnote_A" href="#FNanchor_A" class="label">[A]</a> For those who are interested in the details of this affair, the +following diagram is given:</p> + +<div class="figcenter illowp70" id="i-010"> +<img class="w100" src="images/i-010.jpg" alt="" /> +<div class="caption">1. Library table. 2. Chair. 3. Passageway. 4. Bed. 5. Shaving stand.</div> +</div> + +</div> +</div> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="II_THE_CORONERS_INQUEST">II. THE CORONER’S INQUEST</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“The baby figure of the giant mass</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of things to come.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent12">Troilus and Cressida.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>For a few minutes I sat dazed by the sudden flood of light greeting me +from the many open windows; then, as the strongly contrasting +features of the scene before me began to impress themselves upon +my consciousness, I found myself experiencing something of the same +sensation of double personality which years before had followed an +enforced use of ether. As at that time, I appeared to be living two +lives at once: in two distinct places, with two separate sets +of incidents going on; so now I seemed to be divided between two +irreconcilable trains of thought; the gorgeous house, its elaborate +furnishing, the little glimpses of yesterday’s life, as seen in the open +piano, with its sheet of music held in place by a lady’s fan, occupying +my attention fully as much as the aspect of the throng of incongruous +and impatient people huddled about me.</p> + +<p>Perhaps one reason of this lay in the extraordinary splendor of the room +I was in; the glow of satin, glitter of bronze, and glimmer of marble +meeting the eye at every turn. But I am rather inclined to think it +was mainly due to the force and eloquence of a certain picture which +confronted me from the opposite wall. A sweet picture—sweet enough and +poetic enough to have been conceived by the most idealistic of artists: +simple, too—the vision of a young flaxen-haired, blue-eyed coquette, +dressed in the costume of the First Empire, standing in a wood-path, +looking back over her shoulder at some one following—yet with such a +dash of something not altogether saint-like in the corners of her meek +eyes and baby-like lips, that it impressed me with the individuality of +life. Had it not been for the open dress, with its waist almost beneath +the armpits, the hair cut short on the forehead, and the perfection of +the neck and shoulders, I should have taken it for a literal portrait of +one of the ladies of the house. As it was, I could not rid myself of the +idea that one, if not both, of Mr. Leavenworth’s nieces looked down upon +me from the eyes of this entrancing blonde with the beckoning glance +and forbidding hand. So vividly did this fancy impress me that I half +shuddered as I looked, wondering if this sweet creature did not know +what had occurred in this house since the happy yesterday; and if so, +how she could stand there smiling so invitingly,—when suddenly I became +aware that I had been watching the little crowd of men about me with as +complete an absorption as if nothing else in the room had attracted +my attention; that the face of the coroner, sternly intelligent and +attentive, was as distinctly imprinted upon my mind as that of this +lovely picture, or the clearer-cut and more noble features of the +sculptured Psyche, shining in mellow beauty from the crimson-hung window +at his right; yes, even that the various countenances of the jurymen +clustered before me, commonplace and insignificant as most of them were; +the trembling forms of the excited servants crowded into a far corner; +and the still more disagreeable aspect of the pale-faced, seedy +reporter, seated at a small table and writing with a ghoul-like avidity +that made my flesh creep, were each and all as fixed an element in the +remarkable scene before me as the splendor of the surroundings which +made their presence such a nightmare of discord and unreality.</p> + +<p>I have spoken of the coroner. As fortune would have it, he was no +stranger to me. I had not only seen him before, but had held frequent +conversation with him; in fact, knew him. His name was Hammond, and he +was universally regarded as a man of more than ordinary acuteness, fully +capable of conducting an important examination, with the necessary skill +and address. Interested as I was, or rather was likely to be, in this +particular inquiry, I could not but congratulate myself upon our good +fortune in having so intelligent a coroner.</p> + +<p>As for his jurymen, they were, as I have intimated, very much like +all other bodies of a similar character. Picked up at random from the +streets, but from such streets as the Fifth and Sixth Avenues, +they presented much the same appearance of average intelligence and +refinement as might be seen in the chance occupants of one of our city +stages. Indeed, I marked but one amongst them all who seemed to take +any interest in the inquiry as an inquiry; all the rest appearing to be +actuated in the fulfilment of their duty by the commoner instincts of +pity and indignation.</p> + +<p>Dr. Maynard, the well-known surgeon of Thirty-sixth Street, was the +first witness called. His testimony concerned the nature of the wound +found in the murdered man’s head. As some of the facts presented by him +are likely to prove of importance to us in our narrative, I will proceed +to give a synopsis of what he said.</p> + +<p>Prefacing his remarks with some account of himself, and the manner in +which he had been summoned to the house by one of the servants, he went +on to state that, upon his arrival, he found the deceased lying on a +bed in the second-story front room, with the blood clotted about a +pistol-wound in the back of the head; having evidently been carried +there from the adjoining apartment some hours after death. It was the +only wound discovered on the body, and having probed it, he had found +and extracted the bullet which he now handed to the jury. It was lying +in the brain, having entered at the base of the skull, passed obliquely +upward, and at once struck the <i>medulla oblongata</i>, causing instant +death. The fact of the ball having entered the brain in this peculiar +manner he deemed worthy of note, since it would produce not only +instantaneous death, but an utterly motionless one. Further, from the +position of the bullet-hole and the direction taken by the bullet, it +was manifestly impossible that the shot should have been fired by the +man himself, even if the condition of the hair about the wound did not +completely demonstrate the fact that the shot was fired from a point +some three or four feet distant. Still further, considering the angle at +which the bullet had entered the skull, it was evident that the deceased +must not only have been seated at the time, a fact about which there +could be no dispute, but he must also have been engaged in some +occupation which drew his head forward. For, in order that a ball should +enter the head of a man sitting erect at the angle seen here, of 45 +degrees, it would be necessary, not only for the pistol to be held very +low down, but in a peculiar position; while if the head had been bent +forward, as in the act of writing, a man holding a pistol naturally +with the elbow bent, might very easily fire a ball into the brain at the +angle observed.</p> + +<p>Upon being questioned in regard to the bodily health of Mr. Leavenworth, +he replied that the deceased appeared to have been in good condition at +the time of his death, but that, not being his attendant physician, +he could not speak conclusively upon the subject without further +examination; and, to the remark of a juryman, observed that he had not +seen pistol or weapon lying upon the floor, or, indeed, anywhere else in +either of the above-mentioned rooms.</p> + +<p>I might as well add here what he afterwards stated, that from the +position of the table, the chair, and the door behind it, the murderer, +in order to satisfy all the conditions imposed by the situation, must +have stood upon, or just within, the threshold of the passageway leading +into the room beyond. Also, that as the ball was small, and from a +rifled barrel, and thus especially liable to deflections while passing +through bones and integuments, it seemed to him evident that the victim +had made no effort to raise or turn his head when advanced upon by +his destroyer; the fearful conclusion being that the footstep was an +accustomed one, and the presence of its possessor in the room either +known or expected.</p> + +<p>The physician’s testimony being ended, the coroner picked up the bullet +which had been laid on the table before him, and for a moment rolled +it contemplatively between his fingers; then, drawing a pencil from his +pocket, hastily scrawled a line or two on a piece of paper and, calling +an officer to his side, delivered some command in a low tone. The +officer, taking up the slip, looked at it for an instant knowingly, then +catching up his hat left the room. Another moment, and the front door +closed on him, and a wild halloo from the crowd of urchins without told +of his appearance in the street. Sitting where I did, I had a full view +of the corner. Looking out, I saw the officer stop there, hail a cab, +hastily enter it, and disappear in the direction of Broadway.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="III_FACTS_AND_DEDUCTIONS">III. FACTS AND DEDUCTIONS</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Confusion now hath made his master-piece;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The Lord’s anointed temple, and stolen thence</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The life of the building.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent18">Macbeth.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Turning my attention back into the room where I was, I found the +coroner consulting a memorandum through a very impressive pair of gold +eye-glasses.</p> + +<p>“Is the butler here?” he asked.</p> + +<p>Immediately there was a stir among the group of servants in the corner, +and an intelligent-looking, though somewhat pompous, Irishman stepped +out from their midst and confronted the jury. “Ah,” thought I to +myself, as my glance encountered his precise whiskers, steady eye, and +respectfully attentive, though by no means humble, expression, “here is +a model servant, who is likely to prove a model witness.” And I was not +mistaken; Thomas, the butler, was in all respects one in a thousand—and +he knew it.</p> + +<p>The coroner, upon whom, as upon all others in the room, he seemed to +have made the like favorable impression, proceeded without hesitation to +interrogate him.</p> + +<p>“Your name, I am told, is Thomas Dougherty?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Thomas, how long have you been employed in your present +situation?”</p> + +<p>“It must be a matter of two years now, sir.”</p> + +<p>“You are the person who first discovered the body of Mr. Leavenworth?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; I and Mr. Harwell.”</p> + +<p>“And who is Mr. Harwell?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Harwell is Mr. Leavenworth’s private secretary, sir; the one who +did his writing.”</p> + +<p>“Very good. Now at what time of the day or night did you make this +discovery?”</p> + +<p>“It was early, sir; early this morning, about eight.”</p> + +<p>“And where?”</p> + +<p>“In the library, sir, off Mr. Leavenworth’s bedroom. We had forced our +way in, feeling anxious about his not coming to breakfast.”</p> + +<p>“You forced your way in; the door was locked, then?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“On the inside?”</p> + +<p>“That I cannot tell; there was no key in the door.”</p> + +<p>“Where was Mr. Leavenworth lying when you first found him?”</p> + +<p>“He was not lying, sir. He was seated at the large table in the centre +of his room, his back to the bedroom door, leaning forward, his head on +his hands.”</p> + +<p>“How was he dressed?”</p> + +<p>“In his dinner suit, sir, just as he came from the table last night.”</p> + +<p>“Were there any evidences in the room that a struggle had taken place?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Any pistol on the floor or table?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Any reason to suppose that robbery had been attempted?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir. Mr. Leavenworth’s watch and purse were both in his pockets.”</p> + +<p>Being asked to mention who were in the house at the time of the +discovery, he replied, “The young ladies, Miss Mary Leavenworth and +Miss Eleanore, Mr. Harwell, Kate the cook, Molly the up-stairs girl, and +myself.”</p> + +<p>“The usual members of the household?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Now tell me whose duty it is to close up the house at night.”</p> + +<p>“Mine, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Did you secure it as usual, last night?”</p> + +<p>“I did, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Who unfastened it this morning?”</p> + +<p>“I, sir.”</p> + +<p>“How did you find it?”</p> + +<p>“Just as I left it.”</p> + +<p>“What, not a window open nor a door unlocked?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>By this time you could have heard a pin drop. The certainty that the +murderer, whoever he was, had not left the house, at least till after it +was opened in the morning, seemed to weigh upon all minds. Forewarned as +I had been of the fact, I could not but feel a certain degree of emotion +at having it thus brought before me; and, moving so as to bring the +butler’s face within view, searched it for some secret token that he had +spoken thus emphatically in order to cover up some failure of duty +on his own part. But it was unmoved in its candor, and sustained the +concentrated gaze of all in the room like a rock.</p> + +<p>Being now asked when he had last seen Mr. Leavenworth alive, he replied, +“At dinner last night.”</p> + +<p>“He was, however, seen later by some of you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; Mr. Harwell says he saw him as late as half-past ten in the +evening.”</p> + +<p>“What room do you occupy in this house?”</p> + +<p>“A little one on the basement floor.”</p> + +<p>“And where do the other members of the household sleep?”</p> + +<p>“Mostly on the third floor, sir; the ladies in the large back rooms, and +Mr. Harwell in the little one in front. The girls sleep above.”</p> + +<p>“There was no one on the same floor with Mr. Leavenworth?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“At what hour did you go to bed?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I should say about eleven.”</p> + +<p>“Did you hear any noise in the house either before or after that time, +that you remember?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“So that the discovery you made this morning was a surprise to you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>Requested now to give a more detailed account of that discovery, he +went on to say it was not till Mr. Leavenworth failed to come to his +breakfast at the call of the bell that any suspicion arose in the house +that all was not right. Even then they waited some little time before +doing anything, but as minute after minute went by and he did not come, +Miss Eleanore grew anxious, and finally left the room saying she would +go and see what was the matter, but soon returned looking very much +frightened, saying she had knocked at her uncle’s door, and had even +called to him, but could get no answer. At which Mr. Harwell and himself +had gone up and together tried both doors, and, finding them locked, +burst open that of the library, when they came upon Mr. Leavenworth, as +he had already said, sitting at the table, dead.</p> + +<p>“And the ladies?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, they followed us up and came into the room and Miss Eleanore +fainted away.”</p> + +<p>“And the other one,—Miss Mary, I believe they call her?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t remember anything about her; I was so busy fetching water to +restore Miss Eleanore, I didn’t notice.”</p> + +<p>“Well, how long was it before Mr. Leavenworth was carried into the next +room?”</p> + +<p>“Almost immediate, as soon as Miss Eleanore recovered, and that was as +soon as ever the water touched her lips.”</p> + +<p>“Who proposed that the body should be carried from the spot?”</p> + +<p>“She, sir. As soon as ever she stood up she went over to it and looked +at it and shuddered, and then calling Mr. Harwell and me, bade us carry +him in and lay him on the bed and go for the doctor, which we did.”</p> + +<p>“Wait a moment; did she go with you when you went into the other room?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“What did she do?”</p> + +<p>“She stayed by the library table.”</p> + +<p>“What doing?”</p> + +<p>“I couldn’t see; her back was to me.”</p> + +<p>“How long did she stay there?”</p> + +<p>“She was gone when we came back.”</p> + +<p>“Gone from the table?”</p> + +<p>“Gone from the room.”</p> + +<p>“Humph! when did you see her again?”</p> + +<p>“In a minute. She came in at the library door as we went out.”</p> + +<p>“Anything in her hand?”</p> + +<p>“Not as I see.”</p> + +<p>“Did you miss anything from the table?”</p> + +<p>“I never thought to look, sir. The table was nothing to me. I was only +thinking of going for the doctor, though I knew it was of no use.”</p> + +<p>“Whom did you leave in the room when you went out?”</p> + +<p>“The cook, sir, and Molly, sir, and Miss Eleanore.”</p> + +<p>“Not Miss Mary?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Very well. Have the jury any questions to put to this man?”</p> + +<p>A movement at once took place in that profound body.</p> + +<p>“I should like to ask a few,” exclaimed a weazen-faced, excitable little +man whom I had before noticed shifting in his seat in a restless manner +strongly suggestive of an intense but hitherto repressed desire to +interrupt the proceedings.</p> + +<p>“Very well, sir,” returned Thomas.</p> + +<p>But the juryman stopping to draw a deep breath, a large and decidedly +pompous man who sat at his right hand seized the opportunity to inquire +in a round, listen-to-me sort of voice:</p> + +<p>“You say you have been in the family for two years. Was it what you +might call a united family?”</p> + +<p>“United?”</p> + +<p>“Affectionate, you know,—on good terms with each other.” And the +juryman lifted the very long and heavy watch-chain that hung across +his vest as if that as well as himself had a right to a suitable and +well-considered reply.</p> + +<p>The butler, impressed perhaps by his manner, glanced uneasily around. +“Yes, sir, so far as I know.”</p> + +<p>“The young ladies were attached to their uncle?”</p> + +<p>“O yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“And to each other?”</p> + +<p>“Well, yes, I suppose so; it’s not for me to say.”</p> + +<p>“You suppose so. Have you any reason to think otherwise?” And he doubled +the watch-chain about his fingers as if he would double its attention as +well as his own.</p> + +<p>Thomas hesitated a moment. But just as his interlocutor was about to +repeat his question, he drew himself up into a rather stiff and formal +attitude and replied:</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, no.”</p> + +<p>The juryman, for all his self-assertion, seemed to respect the reticence +of a servant who declined to give his opinion in regard to such a +matter, and drawing complacently back, signified with a wave of his hand +that he had no more to say.</p> + +<p>Immediately the excitable little man, before mentioned, slipped forward +to the edge of his chair and asked, this time without hesitation: “At +what time did you unfasten the house this morning?”</p> + +<p>“About six, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Now, could any one leave the house after that time without your +knowledge?”</p> + +<p>Thomas glanced a trifle uneasily at his fellow-servants, but answered up +promptly and as if without reserve:</p> + +<p>“I don’t think it would be possible for anybody to leave this house +after six in the morning without either myself or the cook’s knowing of +it. Folks don’t jump from second-story windows in broad daylight, and as +to leaving by the doors, the front door closes with such a slam all the +house can hear it from top to bottom, and as for the back-door, no one +that goes out of that can get clear of the yard without going by the +kitchen window, and no one can go by our kitchen window without the +cook’s a-seeing of them, that I can just swear to.” And he cast a +half-quizzing, half-malicious look at the round, red-faced individual +in question, strongly suggestive of late and unforgotten bickerings over +the kitchen coffee-urn and castor.</p> + +<p>This reply, which was of a nature calculated to deepen the forebodings +which had already settled upon the minds of those present, produced a +visible effect. The house found locked, and no one seen to leave it! +Evidently, then, we had not far to look for the assassin.</p> + +<p>Shifting on his chair with increased fervor, if I may so speak, the +juryman glanced sharply around. But perceiving the renewed interest +in the faces about him, declined to weaken the effect of the last +admission, by any further questions. Settling, therefore, comfortably +back, he left the field open for any other juror who might choose to +press the inquiry. But no one seeming to be ready to do this, Thomas in +his turn evinced impatience, and at last, looking respectfully around, +inquired:</p> + +<p>“Would any other gentleman like to ask me anything?”</p> + +<p>No one replying, he threw a hurried glance of relief towards the +servants at his side, then, while each one marvelled at the sudden +change that had taken place in his countenance, withdrew with an eager +alacrity and evident satisfaction for which I could not at the moment +account.</p> + +<p>But the next witness proving to be none other than my acquaintance of +the morning, Mr. Harwell, I soon forgot both Thomas and the doubts his +last movement had awakened, in the interest which the examination of +so important a person as the secretary and right-hand man of Mr. +Leavenworth was likely to create.</p> + +<p>Advancing with the calm and determined air of one who realized that life +and death itself might hang upon his words, Mr. Harwell took his stand +before the jury with a degree of dignity not only highly prepossessing +in itself, but to me, who had not been over and above pleased with him +in our first interview, admirable and surprising. Lacking, as I +have said, any distinctive quality of face or form agreeable or +otherwise—being what you might call in appearance a negative sort of +person, his pale, regular features, dark, well-smoothed hair and simple +whiskers, all belonging to a recognized type and very commonplace—there +was still visible, on this occasion at least, a certain self-possession +in his carriage, which went far towards making up for the want of +impressiveness in his countenance and expression. Not that even this was +in any way remarkable. Indeed, there was nothing remarkable about the +man, any more than there is about a thousand others you meet every day +on Broadway, unless you except the look of concentration and solemnity +which pervaded his whole person; a solemnity which at this time would +not have been noticeable, perhaps, if it had not appeared to be the +habitual expression of one who in his short life had seen more of sorrow +than joy, less of pleasure than care and anxiety.</p> + +<p>The coroner, to whom his appearance one way or the other seemed to be a +matter of no moment, addressed him immediately and without reserve:</p> + +<p>“Your name?”</p> + +<p>“James Trueman Harwell.”</p> + +<p>“Your business?”</p> + +<p>“I have occupied the position of private secretary and amanuensis to Mr. +Leavenworth for the past eight months.”</p> + +<p>“You are the person who last saw Mr. Leavenworth alive, are you not?”</p> + +<p>The young man raised his head with a haughty gesture which well-nigh +transfigured it.</p> + +<p>“Certainly not, as I am not the man who killed him.”</p> + +<p>This answer, which seemed to introduce something akin to levity or +badinage into an examination the seriousness of which we were all +beginning to realize, produced an immediate revulsion of feeling toward +the man who, in face of facts revealed and to be revealed, could so +lightly make use of it. A hum of disapproval swept through the room, and +in that one remark, James Harwell lost all that he had previously won +by the self-possession of his bearing and the unflinching regard of his +eye. He seemed himself to realize this, for he lifted his head still +higher, though his general aspect remained unchanged.</p> + +<p>“I mean,” the coroner exclaimed, evidently nettled that the young man +had been able to draw such a conclusion from his words, “that you were +the last one to see him previous to his assassination by some unknown +individual?”</p> + +<p>The secretary folded his arms, whether to hide a certain tremble which +had seized him, or by that simple action to gain time for a moment’s +further thought, I could not then determine. “Sir,” he replied at +length, “I cannot answer yes or no to that question. In all probability +I was the last to see him in good health and spirits, but in a house as +large as this I cannot be sure of even so simple a fact as that.” Then, +observing the unsatisfied look on the faces around, added slowly, “It is +my business to see him late.”</p> + +<p>“Your business? Oh, as his secretary, I suppose?”</p> + +<p>He gravely nodded.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Harwell,” the coroner went on, “the office of private secretary +in this country is not a common one. Will you explain to us what your +duties were in that capacity; in short, what use Mr. Leavenworth had for +such an assistant and how he employed you?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly. Mr. Leavenworth was, as you perhaps know, a man of great +wealth. Connected with various societies, clubs, institutions, etc., +besides being known far and near as a giving man, he was accustomed +every day of his life to receive numerous letters, begging and +otherwise, which it was my business to open and answer, his private +correspondence always bearing a mark upon it which distinguished it from +the rest. But this was not all I was expected to do. Having in his early +life been engaged in the tea-trade, he had made more than one voyage +to China, and was consequently much interested in the question of +international communication between that country and our own. Thinking +that in his various visits there, he had learned much which, if known +to the American people, would conduce to our better understanding of the +nation, its peculiarities, and the best manner of dealing with it, he +has been engaged for some time in writing a book on the subject, which +same it has been my business for the last eight months to assist him +in preparing, by writing at his dictation three hours out of the +twenty-four, the last hour being commonly taken from the evening, say +from half-past nine to half-past ten, Mr. Leavenworth being a very +methodical man and accustomed to regulate his own life and that of those +about him with almost mathematical precision.”</p> + +<p>“You say you were accustomed to write at his dictation evenings? Did you +do this as usual last evening?”</p> + +<p>“I did, sir.”</p> + +<p>“What can you tell us of his manner and appearance at the time? Were +they in any way unusual?”</p> + +<p>A frown crossed the secretary’s brow.</p> + +<p>“As he probably had no premonition of his doom, why should there have +been any change in his manner?”</p> + +<p>This giving the coroner an opportunity to revenge himself for his +discomfiture of a moment before, he said somewhat severely:</p> + +<p>“It is the business of a witness to answer questions, not to put them.”</p> + +<p>The secretary flushed and the account stood even.</p> + +<p>“Very well, then, sir; if Mr. Leavenworth felt any forebodings of his +end, he did not reveal them to me. On the contrary, he seemed to be more +absorbed in his work than usual. One of the last words he said to +me was, ‘In a month we will have this book in press, eh, Trueman?’ I +remember this particularly, as he was filling his wineglass at the +time. He always drank one glass of wine before retiring, it being my +duty to bring the decanter of sherry from the closet the last thing +before leaving him. I was standing with my hand on the knob of the +hall-door, but advanced as he said this and replied, ‘I hope so, indeed, +Mr. Leavenworth.’ ‘Then join me in drinking a glass of sherry,’ said he, +motioning me to procure another glass from the closet. I did so, and he +poured me out the wine with his own hand. I am not especially fond of +sherry, but the occasion was a pleasant one and I drained my glass. I +remember being slightly ashamed of doing so, for Mr. Leavenworth set his +down half full. It was half full when we found him this morning.”</p> + +<p>Do what he would, and being a reserved man he appeared anxious to +control his emotion, the horror of his first shock seemed to overwhelm +him here. Pulling his handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped his +forehead. “Gentlemen, that is the last action of Mr. Leavenworth I ever +saw. As he set the glass down on the table, I said good-night to him and +left the room.”</p> + +<p>The coroner, with a characteristic imperviousness to all expressions +of emotion, leaned back and surveyed the young man with a scrutinizing +glance. “And where did you go then?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“To my own room.”</p> + +<p>“Did you meet anybody on the way?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Hear any thing or see anything unusual?”</p> + +<p>The secretary’s voice fell a trifle. “No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Harwell, think again. Are you ready to swear that you neither +met anybody, heard anybody, nor saw anything which lingers yet in your +memory as unusual?”</p> + +<p>His face grew quite distressed. Twice he opened his lips to speak, +and as often closed them without doing so. At last, with an effort, he +replied:</p> + +<p>“I saw one thing, a little thing, too slight to mention, but it was +unusual, and I could not help thinking of it when you spoke.”</p> + +<p>“What was it?”</p> + +<p>“Only a door half open.”</p> + +<p>“Whose door?”</p> + +<p>“Miss Eleanore Leavenworth’s.” His voice was almost a whisper now.</p> + +<p>“Where were you when you observed this fact?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot say exactly. Probably at my own door, as I did not stop on +the way. If this frightful occurrence had not taken place I should never +have thought of it again.”</p> + +<p>“When you went into your room did you close your door?”</p> + +<p>“I did, sir.”</p> + +<p>“How soon did you retire?”</p> + +<p>“Immediately.”</p> + +<p>“Did you hear nothing before you fell asleep?”</p> + +<p>Again that indefinable hesitation.</p> + +<p>“Barely nothing.”</p> + +<p>“Not a footstep in the hall?”</p> + +<p>“I might have heard a footstep.”</p> + +<p>“Did you?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot swear I did.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think you did?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I think I did. To tell the whole: I remember hearing, just as I +was falling into a doze, a rustle and a footstep in the hall; but it +made no impression upon me, and I dropped asleep.”</p> + +<p>“Well?”</p> + +<p>“Some time later I woke, woke suddenly, as if something had startled me, +but what, a noise or move, I cannot say. I remember rising up in my bed +and looking around, but hearing nothing further, soon yielded to the +drowsiness which possessed me and fell into a deep sleep. I did not wake +again till morning.”</p> + +<p>Here requested to relate how and when he became acquainted with the fact +of the murder, he substantiated, in all particulars, the account of the +matter already given by the butler; which subject being exhausted, the +coroner went on to ask if he had noted the condition of the library +table after the body had been removed.</p> + +<p>“Somewhat; yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“What was on it?”</p> + +<p>“The usual properties, sir, books, paper, a pen with the ink dried on +it, besides the decanter and the wineglass from which he drank the night +before.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing more?”</p> + +<p>“I remember nothing more.”</p> + +<p>“In regard to that decanter and glass,” broke in the juryman of the +watch and chain, “did you not say that the latter was found in the +same condition in which you saw it at the time you left Mr. Leavenworth +sitting in his library?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, very much.”</p> + +<p>“Yet he was in the habit of drinking a full glass?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“An interruption must then have ensued very close upon your departure, +Mr. Harwell.”</p> + +<p>A cold bluish pallor suddenly broke out upon the young man’s face. He +started, and for a moment looked as if struck by some horrible thought. +“That does not follow, sir,” he articulated with some difficulty. “Mr. +Leavenworth might—” but suddenly stopped, as if too much distressed to +proceed.</p> + +<p>“Go on, Mr. Harwell, let us hear what you have to say.”</p> + +<p>“There is nothing,” he returned faintly, as if battling with some strong +emotion.</p> + +<p>As he had not been answering a question, only volunteering an +explanation, the coroner let it pass; but I saw more than one pair of +eyes roll suspiciously from side to side, as if many there felt that +some sort of clue had been offered them in this man’s emotion. The +coroner, ignoring in his easy way both the emotion and the universal +excitement it had produced, now proceeded to ask: “Do you know whether +the key to the library was in its place when you left the room last +night?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; I did not notice.”</p> + +<p>“The presumption is, it was?”</p> + +<p>“I suppose so.”</p> + +<p>“At all events, the door was locked in the morning, and the key gone?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Then whoever committed this murder locked the door on passing out, and +took away the key?”</p> + +<p>“It would seem so.”</p> + +<p>The coroner turning, faced the jury with an earnest look. “Gentlemen,” +said he, “there seems to be a mystery in regard to this key which must +be looked into.”</p> + +<p>Immediately a universal murmur swept through the room, testifying to the +acquiescence of all present. The little juryman hastily rising proposed +that an instant search should be made for it; but the coroner, turning +upon him with what I should denominate as a quelling look, decided +that the inquest should proceed in the usual manner, till the verbal +testimony was all in.</p> + +<p>“Then allow me to ask a question,” again volunteered the irrepressible. +“Mr. Harwell, we are told that upon the breaking in of the library door +this morning, Mr. Leavenworth’s two nieces followed you into the room.”</p> + +<p>“One of them, sir, Miss Eleanore.”</p> + +<p>“Is Miss Eleanore the one who is said to be Mr. Leavenworth’s sole +heiress?” the coroner here interposed.</p> + +<p>“No, sir, that is Miss Mary.”</p> + +<p>“That she gave orders,” pursued the juryman, “for the removal of the +body into the further room?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“And that you obeyed her by helping to carry it in?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Now, in thus passing through the rooms, did you observe anything to +lead you to form a suspicion of the murderer?”</p> + +<p>The secretary shook his head. “I have no suspicion,” he emphatically +said.</p> + +<p>Somehow, I did not believe him. Whether it was the tone of his voice, +the clutch of his hand on his sleeve—and the hand will often reveal +more than the countenance—I felt that this man was not to be relied +upon in making this assertion.</p> + +<p>“I should like to ask Mr. Harwell a question,” said a juryman who had +not yet spoken. “We have had a detailed account of what looks like the +discovery of a murdered man. Now, murder is never committed without some +motive. Does the secretary know whether Mr. Leavenworth had any secret +enemy?”</p> + +<p>“I do not.”</p> + +<p>“Every one in the house seemed to be on good terms with him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” with a little quaver of dissent in the assertion, however.</p> + +<p>“Not a shadow lay between him and any other member of his household, so +far as you know?”</p> + +<p>“I am not ready to say that,” he returned, quite distressed. “A shadow +is a very slight thing. There might have been a shadow——”</p> + +<p>“Between him and whom?”</p> + +<p>A long hesitation. “One of his nieces, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Which one?”</p> + +<p>Again that defiant lift of the head. “Miss Eleanore.”</p> + +<p>“How long has this shadow been observable?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot say.”</p> + +<p>“You do not know the cause?”</p> + +<p>“I do not.”</p> + +<p>“Nor the extent of the feeling?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“You open Mr. Leavenworth’s letters?”</p> + +<p>“I do.”</p> + +<p>“Has there been anything in his correspondence of late calculated to +throw any light upon this deed?”</p> + +<p>It actually seemed as if he never would answer. Was he simply pondering +over his reply, or was the man turned to stone?</p> + +<p>“Mr. Harwell, did you hear the juryman?” inquired the coroner.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; I was thinking.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, now answer.”</p> + +<p>“Sir,” he replied, turning and looking the juryman full in the face, and +in that way revealing his unguarded left hand to my gaze, “I have opened +Mr. Leavenworth’s letters as usual for the last two weeks, and I can +think of nothing in them bearing in the least upon this tragedy.”</p> + +<p>The man lied; I knew it instantly. The clenched hand pausing irresolute, +then making up its mind to go through with the lie firmly, was enough +for me.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Harwell, this is undoubtedly true according to your judgment,” +said the coroner; “but Mr. Leavenworth’s correspondence will have to be +searched for all that.”</p> + +<p>“Of course,” he replied carelessly; “that is only right.”</p> + +<p>This remark ended Mr. Harwell’s examination for the time. As he sat down +I made note of four things.</p> + +<p>That Mr. Harwell himself, for some reason not given, was conscious of a +suspicion which he was anxious to suppress even from his own mind.</p> + +<p>That a woman was in some way connected with it, a rustle as well as a +footstep having been heard by him on the stairs.</p> + +<p>That a letter had arrived at the house, which if found would be likely +to throw some light upon this subject.</p> + +<p>That Eleanore Leavenworth’s name came with difficulty from his lips; +this evidently unimpressible man, manifesting more or less emotion +whenever he was called upon to utter it.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="IV_A_CLUE">IV. A CLUE.</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Something is rotten in the State of Denmark.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent18">Hamlet.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>The cook of the establishment being now called, that portly, ruddy-faced +individual stepped forward with alacrity, displaying upon her +good-humored countenance such an expression of mingled eagerness and +anxiety that more than one person present found it difficult to restrain +a smile at her appearance. Observing this and taking it as a compliment, +being a woman as well as a cook, she immediately dropped a curtsey, +and opening her lips was about to speak, when the coroner, rising +impatiently in his seat, took the word from her mouth by saying sternly:</p> + +<p>“Your name?”</p> + +<p>“Katherine Malone, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Katherine, how long have you been in Mr. Leavenworth’s service?”</p> + +<p>“Shure, it is a good twelvemonth now, sir, since I came, on Mrs. +Wilson’s ricommindation, to that very front door, and——”</p> + +<p>“Never mind the front door, but tell us why you left this Mrs. Wilson?”</p> + +<p>“Shure, and it was she as left me, being as she went sailing to the +ould country the same day when on her recommendation I came to this very +front door—”</p> + +<p>“Well, well; no matter about that. You have been in Mr. Leavenworth’s +family a year?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“And liked it? found him a good master?”</p> + +<p>“Och, sir, niver have I found a better, worse luck to the villain as +killed him. He was that free and ginerous, sir, that many’s the time I +killed him. He was that free and ginerous, sir, that many’s the time +I have said to Hannah—” She stopped, with a sudden comical gasp of +terror, looking at her fellow-servants like one who had incautiously +made a slip. The coroner, observing this, inquired hastily:</p> + +<p>“Hannah? Who is Hannah?”</p> + +<p>The cook, drawing her roly-poly figure up into some sort of shape in +her efforts to appear unconcerned, exclaimed boldly: “She? Oh, only the +ladies’ maid, sir.”</p> + +<p>“But I don’t see any one here answering to that description. You didn’t +speak of any one by the name of Hannah, as belonging to the house,” said +he, turning to Thomas.</p> + +<p>“No, sir,” the latter replied, with a bow and a sidelong look at the +red-cheeked girl at his side. “You asked me who were in the house at the +time the murder was discovered, and I told you.”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” cried the coroner, satirically; “used to police courts, I see.” +Then, turning back to the cook, who had all this while been rolling +her eyes in a vague fright about the room, inquired, “And where is this +Hannah?”</p> + +<p>“Shure, sir, she’s gone.”</p> + +<p>“How long since?”</p> + +<p>The cook caught her breath hysterically. “Since last night.”</p> + +<p>“What time last night?”</p> + +<p>“Troth, sir, and I don’t know. I don’t know anything about it.”</p> + +<p>“Was she dismissed?”</p> + +<p>“Not as I knows on; her clothes is here.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, her clothes are here. At what hour did you miss her?”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t miss her. She was here last night, and she isn’t here this +morning, and so I says she’s gone.”</p> + +<p>“Humph!” cried the coroner, casting a slow glance down the room, while +every one present looked as if a door had suddenly opened in a closed +wall.</p> + +<p>“Where did this girl sleep?”</p> + +<p>The cook, who had been fumbling uneasily with her apron, looked up.</p> + +<p>“Shure, we all sleeps at the top of the house, sir.”</p> + +<p>“In one room?”</p> + +<p>Slowly. “Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Did she come up to the room last night?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“At what hour?”</p> + +<p>“Shure, it was ten when we all came up. I heard the clock a-striking.”</p> + +<p>“Did you observe anything unusual in her appearance?”</p> + +<p>“She had a toothache, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, a toothache; what, then? Tell me all she did.”</p> + +<p>But at this the cook broke into tears and wails.</p> + +<p>“Shure, she didn’t do nothing, sir. It wasn’t her, sir, as did anything; +don’t you believe it. Hannah is a good girl, and honest, sir, as ever +you see. I am ready to swear on the Book as how she never put her hand +to the lock of his door. What should she for? She only went down to Miss +Eleanore for some toothache-drops, her face was paining her that awful; +and oh, sir——”</p> + +<p>“There, there,” interrupted the coroner, “I am not accusing Hannah of +anything. I only asked you what she did after she reached your room. She +went down-stairs, you say. How long after you went up?”</p> + +<p>“Troth, sir, I couldn’t tell; but Molly says——”</p> + +<p>“Never mind what Molly says. <i>You</i> didn’t see her go down?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Nor see her come back?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Nor see her this morning?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; how could I when she’s gone?”</p> + +<p>“But you did see, last night, that she seemed to be suffering with +toothache?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Very well; now tell me how and when you first became acquainted with +the fact of Mr. Leavenworth’s death.”</p> + +<p>But her replies to this question, while over-garrulous, contained but +little information; and seeing this, the coroner was on the point of +dismissing her, when the little juror, remembering an admission she had +made, of having seen Miss Eleanore Leavenworth coming out of the library +door a few minutes after Mr. Leavenworth’s body had been carried into +the next room, asked if her mistress had anything in her hand at the +time.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, sir. Faith!” she suddenly exclaimed, “I believe she +did have a piece of paper. I recollect, now, seeing her put it in her +pocket.”</p> + +<p>The next witness was Molly, the up-stairs girl.</p> + +<p>Molly O’Flanagan, as she called herself, was a rosy-cheeked, +black-haired, pert girl of about eighteen, who under ordinary +circumstances would have found herself able to answer, with a due degree +of smartness, any question which might have been addressed to her. But +fright will sometimes cower the stoutest heart, and Molly, standing +before the coroner at this juncture, presented anything but a reckless +appearance, her naturally rosy cheeks blanching at the first word +addressed to her, and her head falling forward on her breast in a +confusion too genuine to be dissembled and too transparent to be +misunderstood.</p> + +<p>As her testimony related mostly to Hannah, and what she knew of her, and +her remarkable disappearance, I shall confine myself to a mere synopsis +of it.</p> + +<p>As far as she, Molly, knew, Hannah was what she had given herself out +to be, an uneducated girl of Irish extraction, who had come from +the country to act as lady’s-maid and seamstress to the two Misses +Leavenworth. She had been in the family for some time; before Molly +herself, in fact; and though by nature remarkably reticent, refusing to +tell anything about herself or her past life, she had managed to become +a great favorite with all in the house. But she was of a melancholy +nature and fond of brooding, often getting up nights to sit and think in +the dark: “as if she was a lady!” exclaimed Molly.</p> + +<p>This habit being a singular one for a girl in her station, an attempt +was made to win from the witness further particulars in regard to +it. But Molly, with a toss of her head, confined herself to the one +statement. She used to get up nights and sit in the window, and that was +all she knew about it.</p> + +<p>Drawn away from this topic, during the consideration of which, a little +of the sharpness of Molly’s disposition had asserted itself, she went on +to state, in connection with the events of the past night, that Hannah +had been ill for two days or more with a swelled face; that it grew so +bad after they had gone up-stairs, the night before, that she got out +of bed, and dressing herself—Molly was closely questioned here, but +insisted upon the fact that Hannah had fully dressed herself, even to +arranging her collar and ribbon—lighted a candle, and made known her +intention of going down to Miss Eleanore for aid.</p> + +<p>“Why Miss Eleanore?” a juryman here asked.</p> + +<p>“Oh, she is the one who always gives out medicines and such like to the +servants.”</p> + +<p>Urged to proceed, she went on to state that she had already told all she +knew about it. Hannah did not come back, nor was she to be found in the +house at breakfast time.</p> + +<p>“You say she took a candle with her,” said the coroner. “Was it in a +candlestick?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; loose like.”</p> + +<p>“Why did she take a candle? Does not Mr. Leavenworth burn gas in his +halls?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; but we put the gas out as we go up, and Hannah is afraid of +the dark.”</p> + +<p>“If she took a candle, it must be lying somewhere about the house. Now, +has anybody seen a stray candle?”</p> + +<p>“Not as I knows on, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Is <i>this</i> it?” exclaimed a voice over my shoulder.</p> + +<p>It was Mr. Gryce, and he was holding up into view a half-burned +paraffine candle.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; lor’, where did you find it?”</p> + +<p>“In the grass of the carriage yard, half-way from the kitchen door to +the street,” he quietly returned.</p> + +<p>Sensation. A clue, then, at last! Something had been found which seemed +to connect this mysterious murder with the outside world. Instantly the +back-door assumed the chief position of interest. The candle found lying +in the yard seemed to prove, not only that Hannah had left the house +shortly after descending from her room, but had left it by the back-door, +which we now remembered was only a few steps from the iron gate opening +into the side street. But Thomas, being recalled, repeated his assertion +that not only the back-door, but all the lower windows of the house, +had been found by him securely locked and bolted at six o’clock that +morning. Inevitable conclusion—some one had locked and bolted them +after the girl. Who? Alas, that had now become the very serious and +momentous question.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="V_EXPERT_TESTIMONY">V. EXPERT TESTIMONY</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“And often-times, to win us to our harm,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The instruments of darkness tell us truths;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Win us with honest trifles, to betray us</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In deepest consequence.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent15">Macbeth.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>In the midst of the universal gloom thus awakened there came a sharp +ring at the bell. Instantly all eyes turned toward the parlor door, +just as it slowly opened, and the officer who had been sent off so +mysteriously by the coroner an hour before entered, in company with a +young man, whose sleek appearance, intelligent eye, and general air of +trustworthiness, seemed to proclaim him to be, what in fact he was, the +confidential clerk of a responsible mercantile house.</p> + +<p>Advancing without apparent embarrassment, though each and every eye in +the room was fixed upon him with lively curiosity, he made a slight bow +to the coroner.</p> + +<p>“You have sent for a man from Bohn & Co.,” he said.</p> + +<p>Strong and immediate excitement. Bohn & Co. was the well-known pistol +and ammunition store of —— Broadway.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” returned the coroner. “We have here a bullet, which we must +ask you to examine, You are fully acquainted with all matters connected +with your business?”</p> + +<p>The young man, merely elevating an expressive eyebrow, took the bullet +carelessly in his hand.</p> + +<p>“Can you tell us from what make of pistol that was delivered?”</p> + +<p>The young man rolled it slowly round between his thumb and forefinger, +and then laid it down. “It is a No. 32 ball, usually sold with the small +pistol made by Smith & Wesson.”</p> + +<p>“A small pistol!” exclaimed the butler, jumping up from his seat. +“Master used to keep a little pistol in his stand drawer. I have often +seen it. We all knew about it.”</p> + +<p>Great and irrepressible excitement, especially among the servants. +“That’s so!” I heard a heavy voice exclaim. “I saw it once +myself—master was cleaning it.” It was the cook who spoke.</p> + +<p>“In his stand drawer?” the coroner inquired.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; at the head of his bed.”</p> + +<p>An officer was sent to examine the stand drawer. In a few moments he +returned, bringing a small pistol which he laid down on the coroner’s +table, saying, “Here it is.”</p> + +<p>Immediately, every one sprang to his feet, but the coroner, handing +it over to the clerk from Bonn’s, inquired if that was the make before +mentioned. Without hesitation he replied, “Yes, Smith & Wesson; you can +see for yourself,” and he proceeded to examine it.</p> + +<p>“Where did you find this pistol?” asked the coroner of the officer.</p> + +<p>“In the top drawer of a shaving table standing near the head of Mr. +Leavenworth’s bed. It was lying in a velvet case together with a box +of cartridges, one of which I bring as a sample,” and he laid it down +beside the bullet.</p> + +<p>“Was the drawer locked?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; but the key was not taken out.”</p> + +<p>Interest had now reached its climax. A universal cry swept through the +room, “Is it loaded?”</p> + +<p>The coroner, frowning on the assembly, with a look of great dignity, +remarked:</p> + +<p>“I was about to ask that question myself, but first I must request +order.”</p> + +<p>An immediate calm followed. Every one was too much interested to +interpose any obstacle in the way of gratifying his curiosity.</p> + +<p>“Now, sir!” exclaimed the coroner.</p> + +<p>The clerk from Bonn’s, taking out the cylinder, held it up. “There are +seven chambers here, and they are all loaded.”</p> + +<p>A murmur of disappointment followed this assertion.</p> + +<p>“But,” he quietly added after a momentary examination of the face of +the cylinder, “they have not all been loaded long. A bullet has been +recently shot from one of these chambers.”</p> + +<p>“How do you know?” cried one of the jury.</p> + +<p>“How do I know? Sir,” said he, turning to the coroner, “will you be kind +enough to examine the condition of this pistol?” and he handed it over +to that gentleman. “Look first at the barrel; it is clean and bright, +and shows no evidence of a bullet having passed out of it very lately; +that is because it has been cleaned. But now, observe the face of the +cylinder: what do you see there?”</p> + +<p>“I see a faint line of smut near one of the chambers.”</p> + +<p>“Just so; show it to the gentlemen.”</p> + +<p>It was immediately handed down.</p> + +<p>“That faint line of smut, on the edge of one of the chambers, is the +telltale, sirs. A bullet passing out always leaves smut behind. The man +who fired this, remembering the fact, cleaned the barrel, but forgot the +cylinder.” And stepping aside he folded his arms.</p> + +<p>“Jerusalem!” spoke out a rough, hearty voice, “isn’t that wonderful!” +This exclamation came from a countryman who had stepped in from the +street, and now stood agape in the doorway.</p> + +<p>It was a rude but not altogether unwelcome interruption. A smile passed +round the room, and both men and women breathed more easily. Order being +at last restored, the officer was requested to describe the position of +the stand, and its distance from the library table.</p> + +<p>“The library table is in one room, and the stand in another. To +reach the former from the latter, one would be obliged to cross +Mr. Leavenworth’s bedroom in a diagonal direction, pass through the +passageway separating that one apartment from the other, and——”</p> + +<p>“Wait a moment; how does this table stand in regard to the door which +leads from the bedroom into the hall?”</p> + +<p>“One might enter that door, pass directly round the foot of the bed +to the stand, procure the pistol, and cross half-way over to the +passageway, without being seen by any one sitting or standing in the +library beyond.”</p> + +<p>“Holy Virgin!” exclaimed the horrified cook, throwing her apron over her +head as if to shut out some dreadful vision. “Hannah niver would have +the pluck for that; niver, niver!” But Mr. Gryce, laying a heavy hand on +the woman, forced her back into her seat, reproving and calming her +at the same time, with a dexterity marvellous to behold. “I beg your +pardons,” she cried deprecatingly to those around; “but it niver was +Hannah, niver!”</p> + +<p>The clerk from Bohn’s here being dismissed, those assembled took the +opportunity of making some change in their position, after which, the +name of Mr. Harwell was again called. That person rose with manifest +reluctance. Evidently the preceding testimony had either upset some +theory of his, or indubitably strengthened some unwelcome suspicion.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Harwell,” the coroner began, “we are told of the existence of a +pistol belonging to Mr. Leavenworth, and upon searching, we discover it +in his room. Did you know of his possessing such an instrument?”</p> + +<p>“I did.”</p> + +<p>“Was it a fact generally known in the house?”</p> + +<p>“So it would seem.”</p> + +<p>“How was that? Was he in the habit of leaving it around where any one +could see it?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot say; I can only acquaint you with the manner in which I myself +became aware of its existence.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, do so.”</p> + +<p>“We were once talking about firearms. I have some taste that way, and +have always been anxious to possess a pocket-pistol. Saying something +of the kind to him one day, he rose from his seat and, fetching me this, +showed it to me.”</p> + +<p>“How long ago was this?”</p> + +<p>“Some few months since.”</p> + +<p>“He has owned this pistol, then, for some time?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Is that the only occasion upon which you have ever seen it?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir,”—the secretary blushed—“I have seen it once since.”</p> + +<p>“When?”</p> + +<p>“About three weeks ago.”</p> + +<p>“Under what circumstances?”</p> + +<p>The secretary dropped his head, a certain drawn look making itself +suddenly visible on his countenance.</p> + +<p>“Will you not excuse me, gentlemen?” he asked, after a moment’s +hesitation.</p> + +<p>“It is impossible,” returned the coroner.</p> + +<p>His face grew even more pallid and deprecatory. “I am obliged to +introduce the name of a lady,” he hesitatingly declared.</p> + +<p>“We are very sorry,” remarked the coroner.</p> + +<p>The young man turned fiercely upon him, and I could not help wondering +that I had ever thought him commonplace. “Of Miss Eleanore Leavenworth!” +he cried.</p> + +<p>At that name, so uttered, every one started but Mr. Gryce; he was +engaged in holding a close and confidential confab with his finger-tips, +and did not appear to notice.</p> + +<p>“Surely it is contrary to the rules of decorum and the respect we all +feel for the lady herself to introduce her name into this discussion,” +continued Mr. Harwell. But the coroner still insisting upon an answer, +he refolded his arms (a movement indicative of resolution with him), and +began in a low, forced tone to say:</p> + + +<div class="figcenter illowp70" id="i-048"> +<img class="w100" src="images/i-048.jpg" alt="" /> +<div class="caption p15bot">“What was my astonishment to come upon Miss Eleanore Leavenworth standing at the side of her uncle’s bed, with his pistol in her hand”</div> +</div> + + +<p>“It is only this, gentlemen. One afternoon, about three weeks since, I +had occasion to go to the library at an unusual hour. Crossing over to +the mantel-piece for the purpose of procuring a penknife which I had +carelessly left there in the morning, I heard a noise in the adjoining +room. Knowing that Mr. Leavenworth was out, and supposing the ladies to +be out also, I took the liberty of ascertaining who the intruder was; +when what was my astonishment to come upon Miss Eleanore Leavenworth, +standing at the side of her uncle’s bed, with his pistol in her hand. +Confused at my indiscretion, I attempted to escape without being +observed; but in vain, for just as I was crossing the threshold, she +turned and, calling me by name, requested me to explain the pistol to +her. Gentlemen, in order to do so, I was obliged to take it in my hand; +and that, sirs, is the only other occasion upon which I ever saw or +handled the pistol of Mr. Leavenworth.” Drooping his head, he waited in +indescribable agitation for the next question.</p> + +<p>“She asked you to explain the pistol to her; what do you mean by that?”</p> + +<p>“I mean,” he faintly continued, catching his breath in a vain effort to +appear calm, “how to load, aim, and fire it.”</p> + +<p>A flash of awakened feeling shot across the faces of all present. Even +the coroner showed sudden signs of emotion, and sat staring at the bowed +form and pale countenance of the man before him, with a peculiar look of +surprised compassion, which could not fail of producing its effect, not +only upon the young man himself, but upon all who saw him.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Harwell,” he at length inquired, “have you anything to add to the +statement you have just made?”</p> + +<p>The secretary sadly shook his head.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Gryce,” I here whispered, clutching that person by the arm and +dragging him down to my side; “assure me, I entreat you—” but he would +not let me finish.</p> + +<p>“The coroner is about to ask for the young ladies,” he quickly +interposed. “If you desire to fulfil your duty towards them, be ready, +that’s all.”</p> + +<p>Fulfil my duty! The simple words recalled me to myself. What had I been +thinking of; was I mad? With nothing more terrible in mind than a tender +picture of the lovely cousins bowed in anguish over the remains of one +who had been as dear as a father to them, I slowly rose, and upon demand +being made for Miss Mary and Miss Eleanore Leavenworth, advanced and +said that, as a friend of the family—a petty lie, which I hope will not +be laid up against me—I begged the privilege of going for the ladies +and escorting them down.</p> + +<p>Instantly a dozen eyes flashed upon me, and I experienced the +embarrassment of one who, by some unexpected word or action, has drawn +upon himself the concentrated attention of a whole room.</p> + +<p>But the permission sought being almost immediately accorded, I was +speedily enabled to withdraw from my rather trying position, finding +myself, almost before I knew it, in the hall, my face aflame, my heart +beating with excitement, and these words of Mr. Gryce ringing in my +ears: “Third floor, rear room, first door at the head of the stairs. You +will find the young ladies expecting you.”</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="VI_SIDE-LIGHTS">VI. SIDE-LIGHTS</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Oh! she has beauty might ensnare</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A conqueror’s soul, and make him leave his crown</div> + <div class="verse indent0">At random, to be scuffled for by slaves.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent18">Otway.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + + +<p>Third floor, rear room, first door at the head of the stairs! What was I +about to encounter there?</p> + +<p>Mounting the lower flight, and shuddering by the library wall, which to +my troubled fancy seemed written all over with horrible suggestions, I +took my way slowly up-stairs, revolving in my mind many things, among +which an admonition uttered long ago by my mother occupied a prominent +place.</p> + +<p>“My son, remember that a woman with a secret may be a fascinating study, +but she can never be a safe, nor even satisfactory, companion.”</p> + +<p>A wise saw, no doubt, but totally inapplicable to the present situation; +yet it continued to haunt me till the sight of the door to which I had +been directed put every other thought to flight save that I was about to +meet the stricken nieces of a brutally murdered man.</p> + + +<div class="figcenter illowp70" id="i-050"> +<img class="w100" src="images/i-050.jpg" alt="" /> +<div class="caption p15bot">“Pausing only long enough on the threshold to compose myself for the interview, I lifted my hand to knock”</div> +</div> + + +<p>Pausing only long enough on the threshold to compose myself for the +interview, I lifted my hand to knock, when a rich, clear voice rose from +within, and I heard distinctly uttered these astounding words: “I do not +accuse your hand, though I know of none other which would or could have +done this deed; but your heart, your head, your will, these I do and +must accuse, in my secret mind at least; and it is well that you should +know it!”</p> + +<p>Struck with horror, I staggered back, my hands to my ears, when a touch +fell on my arm, and turning, I saw Mr. Gryce standing close beside me, +with his finger on his lip, and the last flickering shadow of a flying +emotion fading from his steady, almost compassionate countenance.</p> + +<p>“Come, come,” he exclaimed; “I see you don’t begin to know what kind +of a world you are living in. Rouse yourself; remember they are waiting +down below.”</p> + +<p>“But who is it? Who was it that spoke?”</p> + +<p>“That we shall soon see.” And without waiting to meet, much less answer, +my appealing look, he struck his hand against the door, and flung it +wide open.</p> + +<p>Instantly a flush of lovely color burst upon us. Blue curtains, blue +carpets, blue walls. It was like a glimpse of heavenly azure in a spot +where only darkness and gloom were to be expected. Fascinated by the +sight, I stepped impetuously forward, but instantly paused again, +overcome and impressed by the exquisite picture I saw before me.</p> + + +<div class="figcenter illowp70" id="i-052"> +<img class="w100" src="images/i-052.jpg" alt="" /> +<div class="caption p15bot">“Her whole appearance was so startling, so extraordinary, that I held my breath in surprise”</div> +</div> + + +<p>Seated in an easy chair of embroidered satin, but rousing from her +half-recumbent position, like one who was in the act of launching a +powerful invective, I beheld a glorious woman. Fair, frail, proud, +delicate; looking like a lily in the thick creamy-tinted wrapper that +alternately clung to and swayed from her finely moulded figure; with her +forehead, crowned with the palest of pale tresses, lifted and flashing +with power; one quivering hand clasping the arm of her chair, the other +outstretched and pointing toward some distant object in the room,—her +whole appearance was so startling, so extraordinary, that I held my +breath in surprise, actually for the moment doubting if it were a living +woman I beheld, or some famous pythoness conjured up from ancient story, +to express in one tremendous gesture the supreme indignation of outraged +womanhood.</p> + +<p>“Miss Mary Leavenworth,” whispered that ever present voice over my +shoulder.</p> + +<p>Ah! Mary Leavenworth! What a relief came with this name. This beautiful +creature, then, was not the Eleanore who could load, aim, and fire a +pistol. Turning my head, I followed the guiding of that uplifted +hand, now frozen into its place by a new emotion: the emotion of being +interrupted in the midst of a direful and pregnant revelation, and +saw—but, no, here description fails me! Eleanore Leavenworth must be +painted by other hands than mine. I could sit half the day and dilate +upon the subtle grace, the pale magnificence, the perfection of form and +feature which make Mary Leavenworth the wonder of all who behold her; +but Eleanore—I could as soon paint the beatings of my own heart. +Beguiling, terrible, grand, pathetic, that face of faces flashed upon my +gaze, and instantly the moonlight loveliness of her cousin faded from +my memory, and I saw only Eleanore—only Eleanore from that moment on +forever.</p> + +<p>When my glance first fell upon her, she was standing by the side of a +small table, with her face turned toward her cousin, and her two hands +resting, the one upon her breast, the other on the table, in an attitude +of antagonism. But before the sudden pang which shot through me at the +sight of her beauty had subsided, her head had turned, her gaze had +encountered mine; all the horror of the situation had burst upon her, +and, instead of a haughty woman, drawn up to receive and trample upon +the insinuations of another, I beheld, alas! a trembling, panting human +creature, conscious that a sword hung above her head, and without a word +to say why it should not fall and slay her.</p> + +<p>It was a pitiable change; a heart-rending revelation! I turned from +it as from a confession. But just then, her cousin, who had apparently +regained her self-possession at the first betrayal of emotion on the +part of the other, stepped forward and, holding out her hand, inquired:</p> + +<p>“Is not this Mr. Raymond? How kind of you, sir. And you?” turning to Mr. +Gryce; “you have come to tell us we are wanted below, is it not so?”</p> + +<p>It was the voice I had heard through the door, but modulated to a sweet, +winning, almost caressing tone.</p> + +<p>Glancing hastily at Mr. Gryce, I looked to see how he was affected by +it. Evidently much, for the bow with which he greeted her words was +lower than ordinary, and the smile with which he met her earnest look +both deprecatory and reassuring. His glance did not embrace her cousin, +though her eyes were fixed upon his face with an inquiry in their depths +more agonizing than the utterance of any cry would have been. Knowing +Mr. Gryce as I did, I felt that nothing could promise worse, or be more +significant, than this transparent disregard of one who seemed to fill +the room with her terror. And, struck with pity, I forgot that Mary +Leavenworth had spoken, forgot her very presence in fact, and, turning +hastily away, took one step toward her cousin, when Mr. Gryce’s hand +falling on my arm stopped me.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth speaks,” said he.</p> + +<p>Recalled to myself, I turned my back upon what had so interested me even +while it repelled, and forcing myself to make some sort of reply to the +fair creature before me, offered my arm and led her toward the door.</p> + +<p>Immediately the pale, proud countenance of Mary Leavenworth softened +almost to the point of smiling;—and here let me say, there never was a +woman who could smile and not smile like Mary Leavenworth. Looking in my +face, with a frank and sweet appeal in her eyes, she murmured:</p> + +<p>“You are very good. I do feel the need of support; the occasion is so +horrible, and my cousin there,”—here a little gleam of alarm nickered +into her eyes—“is so very strange to-day.”</p> + +<p>“Humph!” thought I to myself; “where is the grand indignant pythoness, +with the unspeakable wrath and menace in her countenance, whom I saw +when I first entered the room?” Could it be that she was trying +to beguile us from our conjectures, by making light of her former +expressions? Or was it possible she deceived herself so far as to +believe us unimpressed by the weighty accusation overheard by us at a +moment so critical?</p> + +<p>But Eleanore Leavenworth, leaning on the arm of the detective, +soon absorbed all my attention. She had regained by this time her +self-possession, also, but not so entirely as her cousin. Her step +faltered as she endeavored to walk, and the hand which rested on his +arm trembled like a leaf. “Would to God I had never entered this house,” +said I to myself. And yet, before the exclamation was half uttered, I +became conscious of a secret rebellion against the thought; an emotion, +shall I say, of thankfulness that it had been myself rather than another +who had been allowed to break in upon their privacy, overhear that +significant remark, and, shall I acknowledge it, follow Mr. Gryce and +the trembling, swaying figure of Eleanore Leavenworth down-stairs. Not +that I felt the least relenting in my soul towards guilt. Crime had +never looked so black; revenge, selfishness, hatred, cupidity, never +seemed more loathsome; and yet—but why enter into the consideration of +my feelings at that time. They cannot be of interest; besides, who can +fathom the depths of his own soul, or untangle for others the secret +cords of revulsion and attraction which are, and ever have been, a +mystery and wonder to himself? Enough that, supporting upon my arm the +half-fainting form of one woman, but with my attention, and interest +devoted to another, I descended the stairs of the Leavenworth mansion, +and re-entered the dreaded presence of those inquisitors of the law who +had been so impatiently awaiting us.</p> + +<p>As I once more crossed that threshold, and faced the eager countenances +of those I had left so short a time before, I felt as if ages had +elapsed in the interval; so much can be experienced by the human soul in +the short space of a few over-weighted moments.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="VII_MARY_LEAVENWORTH">VII. MARY LEAVENWORTH</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“For this relief much thanks.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent10">Hamlet.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Have you ever observed the effect of the sunlight bursting suddenly upon +the earth from behind a mass of heavily surcharged clouds? If so, +you can have some idea of the sensation produced in that room by the +entrance of these two beautiful ladies. Possessed of a loveliness which +would have been conspicuous in all places and under all circumstances, +Mary, at least, if not her less striking, though by no means less +interesting cousin, could never have entered any assemblage without +drawing to herself the wondering attention of all present. But, heralded +as here, by the most fearful of tragedies, what could you expect from +a collection of men such as I have already described, but overmastering +wonder and incredulous admiration? Nothing, perhaps, and yet at the +first murmuring sound of amazement and satisfaction, I felt my soul +recoil in disgust.</p> + +<p>Making haste to seat my now trembling companion in the most retired spot +I could find, I looked around for her cousin. But Eleanore Leavenworth, +weak as she had appeared in the interview above, showed at this moment +neither hesitation nor embarrassment. Advancing upon the arm of the +detective, whose suddenly assumed air of persuasion in the presence of +the jury was anything but reassuring, she stood for an instant gazing +calmly upon the scene before her. Then bowing to the coroner with a +grace and condescension which seemed at once to place him on the footing +of a politely endured intruder in this home of elegance, she took the +seat which her own servants hastened to procure for her, with an ease +and dignity that rather recalled the triumphs of the drawing-room +than the self-consciousness of a scene such as that in which we found +ourselves. Palpable acting, though this was, it was not without its +effect. Instantly the murmurs ceased, the obtrusive glances fell, +and something like a forced respect made itself visible upon the +countenances of all present. Even I, impressed as I had been by her very +different demeanor in the room above, experienced a sensation of relief; +and was more than startled when, upon turning to the lady at my side, I +beheld her eyes riveted upon her cousin with an inquiry in their depths +that was anything but encouraging. Fearful of the effect this look might +have upon those about us, I hastily seized her hand which, clenched and +unconscious, hung over the edge of her chair, and was about to beseech +her to have care, when her name, called in a slow, impressive way by the +coroner, roused her from her abstraction. Hurriedly withdrawing her gaze +from her cousin, she lifted her face to the jury, and I saw a gleam +pass over it which brought back my early fancy of the pythoness. But +it passed, and it was with an expression of great modesty she settled +herself to respond to the demand of the coroner and answer the first few +opening inquiries.</p> + +<p>But what can express the anxiety of that moment to me? Gentle as she now +appeared, she was capable of great wrath, as I knew. Was she going to +reiterate her suspicions here? Did she hate as well as mistrust her +cousin? Would she dare assert in this presence, and before the world, +what she found it so easy to utter in the privacy of her own room +and the hearing of the one person concerned? Did she wish to? Her own +countenance gave me no clue to her intentions, and, in my anxiety, +I turned once more to look at Eleanore. But she, in a dread and +apprehension I could easily understand, had recoiled at the first +intimation that her cousin was to speak, and now sat with her face +covered from sight, by hands blanched to an almost deathly whiteness.</p> + +<p>The testimony of Mary Leavenworth was short. After some few questions, +mostly referring to her position in the house and her connection with +its deceased master, she was asked to relate what she knew of the murder +itself, and of its discovery by her cousin and the servants.</p> + +<p>Lifting up a brow that seemed never to have known till now the shadow of +care or trouble, and a voice that, whilst low and womanly, rang like a +bell through the room, she replied:</p> + +<p>“You ask me, gentlemen, a question which I cannot answer of my own +personal knowledge. I know nothing of this murder, nor of its discovery, +save what has come to me through the lips of others.”</p> + +<p>My heart gave a bound of relief, and I saw Eleanore Leavenworth’s hands +drop from her brow like stone, while a flickering gleam as of hope fled +over her face, and then died away like sunlight leaving marble.</p> + +<p>“For, strange as it may seem to you,” Mary earnestly continued, the +shadow of a past horror revisiting her countenance, “I did not enter +the room where my uncle lay. I did not even think of doing so; my only +impulse was to fly from what was so horrible and heartrending. But +Eleanore went in, and she can tell you——”</p> + +<p>“We will question Miss Eleanore Leavenworth later,” interrupted the +coroner, but very gently for him. Evidently the grace and elegance of +this beautiful woman were making their impression. “What we want to know +is what <i>you</i> saw. You say you cannot tell us of anything that passed in +the room at the time of the discovery?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Only what occurred in the hall?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing occurred in the hall,” she innocently remarked.</p> + +<p>“Did not the servants pass in from the hall, and your cousin come out +there after her revival from her fainting fit?”</p> + +<p>Mary Leavenworth’s violet eyes opened wonderingly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; but that was nothing.”</p> + +<p>“You remember, however, her coming into the hall?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“With a paper in her hand?”</p> + +<p>“Paper?” and she wheeled suddenly and looked at her cousin. “Did you +have a paper, Eleanore?”</p> + +<p>The moment was intense. Eleanore Leavenworth, who at the first mention +of the word paper had started perceptibly, rose to her feet at this +naive appeal, and opening her lips, seemed about to speak, when the +coroner, with a strict sense of what was regular, lifted his hand with +decision, and said:</p> + +<p>“You need not ask your cousin, Miss; but let us hear what you have to +say yourself.”</p> + +<p>Immediately, Eleanore Leavenworth sank back, a pink spot breaking out on +either cheek; while a slight murmur testified to the disappointment +of those in the room, who were more anxious to have their curiosity +gratified than the forms of law adhered to.</p> + +<p>Satisfied with having done his duty, and disposed to be easy with so +charming a witness, the coroner repeated his question. “Tell us, if you +please, if you saw any such thing in her hand?”</p> + +<p>“I? Oh, no, no; I saw nothing.”</p> + +<p>Being now questioned in relation to the events of the previous night, +she had no new light to throw upon the subject. She acknowledged her +uncle to have been a little reserved at dinner, but no more so than at +previous times when annoyed by some business anxiety.</p> + +<p>Asked if she had seen her uncle again that evening, she said no, that +she had been detained in her room. That the sight of him, sitting in his +seat at the head of the table, was the very last remembrance she had of +him.</p> + +<p>There was something so touching, so forlorn, and yet so unobtrusive, in +this simple recollection of hers, that a look of sympathy passed slowly +around the room.</p> + +<p>I even detected Mr. Gryce softening towards the inkstand. But Eleanore +Leavenworth sat unmoved.</p> + +<p>“Was your uncle on ill terms with any one?” was now asked. “Had he +valuable papers or secret sums of money in his possession?”</p> + +<p>To all these inquiries she returned an equal negative.</p> + +<p>“Has your uncle met any stranger lately, or received any important +letter during the last few weeks, which might seem in any way to throw +light upon this mystery?”</p> + +<p>There was the slightest perceptible hesitation in her voice, as she +replied: “No, not to my knowledge; I don’t know of any such.” But here, +stealing a side glance at Eleanore, she evidently saw something that +reassured her, for she hastened to add:</p> + +<p>“I believe I may go further than that, and meet your question with a +positive no. My uncle was in the habit of confiding in me, and I should +have known if anything of importance to him had occurred.”</p> + +<p>Questioned in regard to Hannah, she gave that person the best of +characters; knew of nothing which could have led either to her strange +disappearance, or to her connection with crime. Could not say whether +she kept any company, or had any visitors; only knew that no one with +any such pretensions came to the house. Finally, when asked when she +had last seen the pistol which Mr. Leavenworth always kept in his stand +drawer, she returned, not since the day he bought it; Eleanore, and not +herself, having the charge of her uncle’s apartments.</p> + +<p>It was the only thing she had said which, even to a mind freighted like +mine, would seem to point to any private doubt or secret suspicion; and +this, uttered in the careless manner in which it was, would have passed +without comment if Eleanore herself had not directed at that moment a +very much aroused and inquiring look upon the speaker.</p> + +<p>But it was time for the inquisitive juror to make himself heard again. +Edging to the brink of the chair, he drew in his breath, with a vague +awe of Mary’s beauty, almost ludicrous to see, and asked if she had +properly considered what she had just said.</p> + +<p>“I hope, sir, I consider all I am called upon to say at such a time as +this,” was her earnest reply.</p> + +<p>The little juror drew back, and I looked to see her examination +terminate, when suddenly his ponderous colleague of the watch-chain, +catching the young lady’s eye, inquired:</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth, did your uncle ever make a will?”</p> + +<p>Instantly every man in the room was in arms, and even she could not +prevent the slow blush of injured pride from springing to her cheek. But +her answer was given firmly, and without any show of resentment.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” she returned simply.</p> + +<p>“More than one?”</p> + +<p>“I never heard of but one.”</p> + +<p>“Are you acquainted with the contents of that will?”</p> + +<p>“I am. He made no secret of his intentions to any one.”</p> + +<p>The juryman lifted his eye-glass and looked at her. Her grace was little +to him, or her beauty or her elegance. “Perhaps, then, you can tell me +who is the one most likely to be benefited by his death?”</p> + +<p>The brutality of this question was too marked to pass unchallenged. +Not a man in that room, myself included, but frowned with sudden +disapprobation. But Mary Leavenworth, drawing herself up, looked her +interlocutor calmly in the face, and restrained herself to say:</p> + +<p>“I know who would be the greatest losers by it. The children he took to +his bosom in their helplessness and sorrow; the young girls he enshrined +with the halo of his love and protection, when love and protection were +what their immaturity most demanded; the women who looked to him for +guidance when childhood and youth were passed—these, sir, these are +the ones to whom his death is a loss, in comparison to which all others +which may hereafter befall them must ever seem trivial and unimportant.”</p> + +<p>It was a noble reply to the basest of insinuations, and the juryman drew +back rebuked; but here another of them, one who had not spoken before, +but whose appearance was not only superior to the rest, but also almost +imposing in its gravity, leaned from his seat and in a solemn voice +said:</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth, the human mind cannot help forming impressions. +Now have you, with or without reason, felt at any time conscious of +a suspicion pointing towards any one person as the murderer of your +uncle?”</p> + +<p>It was a frightful moment. To me and to one other, I am sure it was +not only frightful, but agonizing. Would her courage fail? would her +determination to shield her cousin remain firm in the face of duty and +at the call of probity? I dared not hope it.</p> + +<p>But Mary Leavenworth, rising to her feet, looked judge and jury calmly +in the face, and, without raising her voice, giving it an indescribably +clear and sharp intonation, replied:</p> + +<p>“No; I have neither suspicion nor reason for any. The assassin of my +uncle is not only entirely unknown to, but completely unsuspected by, +me.”</p> + +<p>It was like the removal of a stifling pressure. Amid a universal +outgoing of the breath, Mary Leavenworth stood aside and Eleanore was +called in her place.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="VIII_CIRCUMSTANTIAL_EVIDENCE">VIII. CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE</h2> + +<p class="center fs80">“O dark, dark, dark!”</p> + +<p>AND now that the interest was at its height, that the veil which +shrouded this horrible tragedy seemed about to be lifted, if not +entirely withdrawn, I felt a desire to fly the scene, to leave the spot, +to know no more. Not that I was conscious of any particular fear of +this woman betraying herself. The cold steadiness of her now fixed and +impassive countenance was sufficient warranty in itself against the +possibility of any such catastrophe. But if, indeed, the suspicions of +her cousin were the offspring, not only of hatred, but of knowledge; if +that face of beauty was in truth only a mask, and Eleanore Leavenworth +was what the words of her cousin, and her own after behavior would seem +to imply, how could I bear to sit there and see the frightful serpent of +deceit and sin evolve itself from the bosom of this white rose! And yet, +such is the fascination of uncertainty that, although I saw something +of my own feelings reflected in the countenances of many about me, not a +man in all that assemblage showed any disposition to depart, I least of +all.</p> + +<p>The coroner, upon whom the blonde loveliness of Mary had impressed +itself to Eleanor’s apparent detriment, was the only one in the room +who showed himself unaffected at this moment. Turning toward the witness +with a look which, while respectful, had a touch of austerity in it, he +began:</p> + +<p>“You have been an intimate of Mr. Leavenworth’s family from childhood, +they tell me, Miss Leavenworth?”</p> + +<p>“From my tenth year,” was her quiet reply.</p> + +<p>It was the first time I had heard her voice, and it surprised me; it +was so like, and yet so unlike, that of her cousin. Similar in tone, it +lacked its expressiveness, if I may so speak; sounding without vibration +on the ear, and ceasing without an echo.</p> + +<p>“Since that time you have been treated like a daughter, they tell me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, like a daughter, indeed; he was more than a father to both of +us.”</p> + +<p>“You and Miss Mary Leavenworth are cousins, I believe. When did she +enter the family?”</p> + +<p>“At the same time I did. Our respective parents were victims of the same +disaster. If it had not been for our uncle, we should have been thrown, +children as we were, upon the world. But he”—here she paused, her +firm lips breaking into a half tremble—“but he, in the goodness of his +heart, adopted us into his family, and gave us what we had both lost, a +father and a home.”</p> + +<p>“You say he was a father to you as well as to your cousin—that he +adopted you. Do you mean by that, that he not only surrounded you with +present luxury, but gave you to understand that the same should be +secured to you after his death; in short, that he intended to leave any +portion of his property to you?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; I was given to understand, from the first, that his property +would be bequeathed by will to my cousin.”</p> + +<p>“Your cousin was no more nearly related to him than yourself, Miss +Leavenworth; did he never give you any reason for this evident +partiality?”</p> + +<p>“None but his pleasure, sir.”</p> + +<p>Her answers up to this point had been so straightforward and +satisfactory that a gradual confidence seemed to be taking the place +of the rather uneasy doubts which had from the first circled about this +woman’s name and person. But at this admission, uttered as it was in +a calm, unimpassioned voice, not only the jury, but myself, who had so +much truer reason for distrusting her, felt that actual suspicion in her +case must be very much shaken before the utter lack of motive which this +reply so clearly betokened.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the coroner continued: “If your uncle was as kind to you as +you say, you must have become very much attached to him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” her mouth taking a sudden determined curve.</p> + +<p>“His death, then, must have been a great shock to you?”</p> + +<p>“Very, very great.”</p> + +<p>“Enough of itself to make you faint away, as they tell me you did, at +the first glimpse you had of his body?”</p> + +<p>“Enough, quite.”</p> + +<p>“And yet you seemed to be prepared for it?”</p> + +<p>“Prepared?”</p> + +<p>“The servants say you were much agitated at finding your uncle did not +make his appearance at the breakfast table.”</p> + +<p>“The servants!” her tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of her mouth; +she could hardly speak.</p> + +<p>“That when you returned from his room you were very pale.”</p> + +<p>Was she beginning to realize that there was some doubt, if not actual +suspicion, in the mind of the man who could assail her with questions +like these? I had not seen her so agitated since that one memorable +instant up in her room. But her mistrust, if she felt any, did not long +betray itself. Calming herself by a great effort, she replied, with a +quiet gesture—</p> + +<p>“That is not so strange. My uncle was a very methodical man; the least +change in his habits would be likely to awaken our apprehensions.”</p> + +<p>“You were alarmed, then?”</p> + +<p>“To a certain extent I was.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth, who is in the habit of overseeing the regulation of +your uncle’s private apartments?”</p> + +<p>“I am, sir.”</p> + +<p>“You are doubtless, then, acquainted with a certain stand in his room +containing a drawer?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“How long is it since you had occasion to go to this drawer?”</p> + +<p>“Yesterday,” visibly trembling at the admission.</p> + +<p>“At what time?”</p> + +<p>“Near noon, I should judge.”</p> + +<p>“Was the pistol he was accustomed to keep there in its place at the +time?”</p> + +<p>“I presume so; I did not observe.”</p> + +<p>“Did you turn the key upon closing the drawer?”</p> + +<p>“I did.”</p> + +<p>“Take it out?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth, that pistol, as you have perhaps observed, lies on +the table before you. Will you look at it?” And lifting it up into view, +he held it towards her.</p> + +<p>If he had meant to startle her by the sudden action, he amply succeeded. +At the first sight of the murderous weapon she shrank back, and a +horrified, but quickly suppressed shriek, burst from her lips. “Oh, no, +no!” she moaned, flinging out her hands before her.</p> + +<p>“I must insist upon your looking at it, Miss Leavenworth,” pursued the +coroner. “When it was found just now, all the chambers were loaded.”</p> + +<p>Instantly the agonized look left her countenance. “Oh, then—” She did +not finish, but put out her hand for the weapon.</p> + +<p>But the coroner, looking at her steadily, continued: “It has been lately +fired off, for all that. The hand that cleaned the barrel forgot the +cartridge-chamber, Miss Leavenworth.”</p> + +<p>She did not shriek again, but a hopeless, helpless look slowly settled +over her face, and she seemed about to sink; but like a flash the +reaction came, and lifting her head with a steady, grand action I have +never seen equalled, she exclaimed, “Very well, what then?”</p> + +<p>The coroner laid the pistol down; men and women glanced at each other; +every one seemed to hesitate to proceed. I heard a tremulous sigh at my +side, and, turning, beheld Mary Leavenworth staring at her cousin with +a startled flush on her cheek, as if she began to recognize that the +public, as well as herself, detected something in this woman, calling +for explanation.</p> + +<p>At last the coroner summoned up courage to continue.</p> + +<p>“You ask me, Miss Leavenworth, upon the evidence given, what then? Your +question obliges me to say that no burglar, no hired assassin, would +have used this pistol for a murderous purpose, and then taken the pains, +not only to clean it, but to reload it, and lock it up again in the +drawer from which he had taken it.”</p> + +<p>She did not reply to this; but I saw Mr. Gryce make a note of it with +that peculiar emphatic nod of his.</p> + +<p>“Nor,” he went on, even more gravely, “would it be possible for any one +who was not accustomed to pass in and out of Mr. Leavenworth’s room at +all hours, to enter his door so late at night, procure this pistol from +its place of concealment, traverse his apartment, and advance as closely +upon him as the facts show to have been necessary, without causing him +at least to turn his head to one side; which, in consideration of the +doctor’s testimony, we cannot believe he did.”</p> + +<p>It was a frightful suggestion, and we looked to see Eleanore Leavenworth +recoil. But that expression of outraged feeling was left for her cousin +to exhibit. Starting indignantly from her seat, Mary cast one hurried +glance around her, and opened her lips to speak; but Eleanore, slightly +turning, motioned her to have patience, and replied in a cold and +calculating voice: “You are not sure, sir, that this <i>was</i> done. If my +uncle, for some purpose of his own, had fired the pistol off yesterday, +let us say—which is surely possible, if not probable—the like results +would be observed, and the same conclusions drawn.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth,” the coroner went on, “the ball has been extracted +from your uncle’s head!”</p> + +<p>“Ah!”</p> + +<p>“It corresponds with those in the cartridges found in his stand drawer, +and is of the number used with this pistol.”</p> + +<p>Her head fell forward on her hands; her eyes sought the floor; her whole +attitude expressed disheartenment. Seeing it, the coroner grew still +more grave.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth,” said he, “I have now some questions to put you +concerning last night. Where did you spend the evening?”</p> + +<p>“Alone, in my own room.”</p> + +<p>“You, however, saw your uncle or your cousin during the course of it?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; I saw no one after leaving the dinner table—except Thomas,” +she added, after a moment’s pause.</p> + +<p>“And how came you to see him?”</p> + +<p>“He came to bring me the card of a gentleman who called.”</p> + +<p>“May I ask the name of the gentleman?”</p> + +<p>“The name on the card was Mr. Le Roy Robbins.”</p> + +<p>The matter seemed trivial; but the sudden start given by the lady at my +side made me remember it.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth, when seated in your room, are you in the habit of +leaving your door open?”</p> + +<p>A startled look at this, quickly suppressed. “Not in the habit; no, +sir.”</p> + +<p>“Why did you leave it open last night?”</p> + +<p>“I was feeling warm.”</p> + +<p>“No other reason?”</p> + +<p>“I can give no other.”</p> + +<p>“When did you close it?”</p> + +<p>“Upon retiring.”</p> + +<p>“Was that before or after the servants went up?”</p> + +<p>“After.”</p> + +<p>“Did you hear Mr. Harwell when he left the library and ascended to his +room?”</p> + +<p>“I did, sir.”</p> + +<p>“How much longer did you leave your door open after that?”</p> + +<p>“I—I—a few minutes—a—I cannot say,” she added, hurriedly.</p> + +<p>“Cannot say? Why? Do you forget?”</p> + +<p>“I forget just how long after Mr. Harwell came up I closed it.”</p> + +<p>“Was it more than ten minutes?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“More than twenty?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps.” How pale her face was, and how she trembled!</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth, according to evidence, your uncle came to his death +not very long after Mr. Harwell left him. If your door was open, you +ought to have heard if any one went to his room, or any pistol shot was +fired. Now, did you hear anything?”</p> + +<p>“I heard no confusion; no, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Did you hear anything?”</p> + +<p>“Nor any pistol shot.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth, excuse my persistence, but did you hear anything?”</p> + +<p>“I heard a door close.”</p> + +<p>“What door?”</p> + +<p>“The library door.”</p> + +<p>“When?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know.” She clasped her hands hysterically. “I cannot say. Why +do you ask me so many questions?”</p> + +<p>I leaped to my feet; she was swaying, almost fainting. But before I +could reach her, she had drawn herself up again, and resumed her former +demeanor. “Excuse me,” said she; “I am not myself this morning. I beg +your pardon,” and she turned steadily to the coroner. “What was it you +asked?”</p> + +<p>“I asked,” and his voice grew thin and high,—evidently her manner was +beginning to tell against her,—“when it was you heard the library door +shut?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot fix the precise time, but it was after Mr. Harwell came up, +and before I closed my own.”</p> + +<p>“And you heard no pistol shot?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>The coroner cast a quick look at the jury, who almost to a man glanced +aside as he did so.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth, we are told that Hannah, one of the servants, started +for your room late last night after some medicine. Did she come there?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“When did you first learn of her remarkable disappearance from this +house during the night?”</p> + +<p>“This morning before breakfast. Molly met me in the hall, and asked +how Hannah was. I thought the inquiry a strange one, and naturally +questioned her. A moment’s talk made the conclusion plain that the girl +was gone.”</p> + +<p>“What did you think when you became assured of this fact?”</p> + +<p>“I did not know what to think.”</p> + +<p>“No suspicion of foul play crossed your mind?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“You did not connect the fact with that of your uncle’s murder?”</p> + +<p>“I did not know of this murder then.”</p> + +<p>“And afterwards?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, some thought of the possibility of her knowing something about it +may have crossed my mind; I cannot say.”</p> + +<p>“Can you tell us anything of this girl’s past history?”</p> + +<p>“I can tell you no more in regard to it than my cousin has done.”</p> + +<p>“Do you not know what made her sad at night?”</p> + +<p>Her cheek flushed angrily; was it at his tone, or at the question +itself? “No, sir! she never confided her secrets to my keeping.”</p> + +<p>“Then you cannot tell us where she would be likely to go upon leaving +this house?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly not.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth, we are obliged to put another question to you. We are +told it was by your order your uncle’s body was removed from where it +was found, into the next room.”</p> + +<p>She bowed her head.</p> + +<p>“Didn’t you know it to be improper for you or any one else to disturb +the body of a person found dead, except in the presence and under the +authority of the proper officer?”</p> + +<p>“I did not consult my knowledge, sir, in regard to the subject: only my +feelings.”</p> + +<p>“Then I suppose it was your feelings which prompted you to remain +standing by the table at which he was murdered, instead of following the +body in and seeing it properly deposited? Or perhaps,” he went on, with +relentless sarcasm, “you were too much interested, just then, in the +piece of paper you took away, to think much of the proprieties of the +occasion?”</p> + +<p>“Paper?” lifting her head with determination. “Who says I took a piece +of paper from the table?”</p> + +<p>“One witness has sworn to seeing you bend over the table upon which +several papers lay strewn; another, to meeting you a few minutes later +in the hall just as you were putting a piece of paper into your pocket. +The inference follows, Miss Leavenworth.”</p> + +<p>This was a home thrust, and we looked to see some show of agitation, but +her haughty lip never quivered.</p> + +<p>“You have drawn the inference, and you must prove the fact.”</p> + +<p>The answer was stateliness itself, and we were not surprised to see the +coroner look a trifle baffled; but, recovering himself, he said:</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth, I must ask you again, whether you did or did not take +anything from that table?”</p> + +<p>She folded her arms. “I decline answering the question,” she quietly +said.</p> + +<p>“Pardon me,” he rejoined: “it is necessary that you should.”</p> + +<p>Her lip took a still more determined curve. “When any suspicious paper +is found in my possession, it will be time enough then for me to explain +how I came by it.”</p> + +<p>This defiance seemed to quite stagger the coroner.</p> + +<p>“Do you realize to what this refusal is liable to subject you?”</p> + +<p>She dropped her head. “I am afraid that I do; yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce lifted his hand, and softly twirled the tassel of the window +curtain.</p> + +<p>“And you still persist?”</p> + +<p>She absolutely disdained to reply.</p> + +<p>The coroner did not press it further.</p> + +<p>It had now become evident to all, that Eleanore Leavenworth not only +stood on her defence, but was perfectly aware of her position, and +prepared to maintain it. Even her cousin, who until now had preserved +some sort of composure, began to show signs of strong and uncontrollable +agitation, as if she found it one thing to utter an accusation herself, +and quite another to see it mirrored in the countenances of the men +about her.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth,” the coroner continued, changing the line of attack, +“you have always had free access to your uncle’s apartments, have you +not?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Might even have entered his room late at night, crossed it and stood at +his side, without disturbing him sufficiently to cause him to turn his +head?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” her hands pressing themselves painfully together.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth, the key to the library door is missing.”</p> + +<p>She made no answer.</p> + +<p>“It has been testified to, that previous to the actual discovery of the +murder, you visited the door of the library alone. Will you tell us if +the key was then in the lock?”</p> + +<p>“It was not.”</p> + +<p>“Are you certain?”</p> + +<p>“I am.”</p> + +<p>“Now, was there anything peculiar about this key, either in size or +shape?”</p> + +<p>She strove to repress the sudden terror which this question produced, +glanced carelessly around at the group of servants stationed at her +back, and trembled. “It was a little different from the others,” she +finally acknowledged.</p> + +<p>“In what respect?”</p> + +<p>“The handle was broken.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, gentlemen, the handle was broken!” emphasized the coroner, looking +towards the jury.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce seemed to take this information to himself, for he gave +another of his quick nods.</p> + +<p>“You would, then, recognize this key, Miss Leavenworth, if you should +see it?”</p> + +<p>She cast a startled look at him, as if she expected to behold it in his +hand; but, seeming to gather courage at not finding it produced, replied +quite easily:</p> + +<p>“I think I should, sir.”</p> + +<p>The coroner seemed satisfied, and was about to dismiss the witness when +Mr. Gryce quietly advanced and touched him on the arm. “One moment,” +said that gentleman, and stooping, he whispered a few words in the +coroner’s ear; then, recovering himself, stood with his right hand in +his breast pocket and his eye upon the chandelier.</p> + +<p>I scarcely dared to breathe. Had he repeated to the coroner the words +he had inadvertently overheard in the hall above? But a glance at +the latter’s face satisfied me that nothing of such importance had +transpired. He looked not only tired, but a trifle annoyed.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth,” said he, turning again in her direction; “you have +declared that you did not visit your uncle’s room last evening. Do you +repeat the assertion?”</p> + +<p>“I do.”</p> + +<p>He glanced at Mr. Gryce, who immediately drew from his breast a +handkerchief curiously soiled. “It is strange, then, that your +handkerchief should have been found this morning in that room.”</p> + +<p>The girl uttered a cry. Then, while Mary’s face hardened into a sort of +strong despair, Eleanore tightened her lips and coldly replied, “I +do not see as it is so very strange. I was in that room early this +morning.”</p> + +<p>“And you dropped it then?”</p> + +<p>A distressed blush crossed her face; she did not reply.</p> + +<p>“Soiled in this way?” he went on.</p> + +<p>“I know nothing about the soil. What is it? let me see.”</p> + +<p>“In a moment. What we now wish, is to know how it came to be in your +uncle’s apartment.”</p> + +<p>“There are many ways. I might have left it there days ago. I have told +you I was in the habit of visiting his room. But first, let me see if it +is my handkerchief.” And she held out her hand.</p> + +<p>“I presume so, as I am told it has your initials embroidered in the +corner,” he remarked, as Mr. Gryce passed it to her.</p> + +<p>But she with horrified voice interrupted him. “These dirty spots! What +are they? They look like—”</p> + +<p>“—what they are,” said the coroner. “If you have ever cleaned a pistol, +you must know what they are, Miss Leavenworth.”</p> + +<p>She let the handkerchief fall convulsively from her hand, and stood +staring at it, lying before her on the floor. “I know nothing about it, +gentlemen,” she said. “It is my handkerchief, but—” for some cause she +did not finish her sentence, but again repeated, “Indeed, gentlemen, I +know nothing about it!”</p> + +<p>This closed her testimony.</p> + +<p>Kate, the cook, was now recalled, and asked to tell when she last washed +the handkerchief?</p> + +<p>“This, sir; this handkerchief? Oh, some time this week, sir,” throwing a +deprecatory glance at her mistress.</p> + +<p>“What day?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I wish I could forget, Miss Eleanore, but I can’t. It is the +only one like it in the house. I washed it day before yesterday.”</p> + +<p>“When did you iron it?”</p> + +<p>“Yesterday morning,” half choking over the words.</p> + +<p>“And when did you take it to her room?”</p> + +<p>The cook threw her apron over her head. “Yesterday afternoon, with the +rest of the clothes, just before dinner. Indade, I could not help it, +Miss Eleanore!” she whispered; “it was the truth.”</p> + +<p>Eleanore Leavenworth frowned. This somewhat contradictory evidence +had very sensibly affected her; and when, a moment later, the coroner, +having dismissed the witness, turned towards her, and inquired if she +had anything further to say in the way of explanation or otherwise, +she threw her hands up almost spasmodically, slowly shook her head and, +without word or warning, fainted quietly away in her chair.</p> + +<p>A commotion, of course, followed, during which I noticed that Mary did +not hasten to her cousin, but left it for Molly and Kate to do what +they could toward her resuscitation. In a few moments this was in so far +accomplished that they were enabled to lead her from the room. As they +did so, I observed a tall man rise and follow her out.</p> + +<p>A momentary silence ensued, soon broken, however, by an impatient stir +as our little juryman rose and proposed that the jury should now adjourn +for the day. This seeming to fall in with the coroner’s views, he +announced that the inquest would stand adjourned till three o’clock the +next day, when he trusted all the jurors would be present.</p> + +<p>A general rush followed, that in a few minutes emptied the room of all +but Miss Leavenworth, Mr. Gryce, and myself.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="IX_A_DISCOVERY">IX. A DISCOVERY</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“His rolling Eies did never rest in place,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But walkte each where for feare of hid mischance,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Holding a lattis still before his Pace,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Through which he still did peep as forward he did pace.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent20">Faerie Queene.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + + +<p>Miss Leavenworth, who appeared to have lingered from a vague terror +of everything and everybody in the house not under her immediate +observation, shrank from my side the moment she found herself left +comparatively alone, and, retiring to a distant corner, gave herself +up to grief. Turning my attention, therefore, in the direction of Mr. +Gryce, I found that person busily engaged in counting his own fingers +with a troubled expression upon his countenance, which may or may not +have been the result of that arduous employment. But, at my approach, +satisfied perhaps that he possessed no more than the requisite number, +he dropped his hands and greeted me with a faint smile which was, +considering all things, too suggestive to be pleasant.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said I, taking my stand before him, “I cannot blame you. You had +a right to do as you thought best; but how had you the heart? Was she +not sufficiently compromised without your bringing out that wretched +handkerchief, which she may or may not have dropped in that room, +but whose presence there, soiled though it was with pistol grease, is +certainly no proof that she herself was connected with this murder?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Raymond,” he returned, “I have been detailed as police officer and +detective to look after this case, and I propose to do it.”</p> + +<p>“Of course,” I hastened to reply. “I am the last man to wish you to +shirk your duty; but you cannot have the temerity to declare that this +young and tender creature can by any possibility be considered as at all +likely to be implicated in a crime so monstrous and unnatural. The mere +assertion of another woman’s suspicions on the subject ought not——”</p> + +<p>But here Mr. Gryce interrupted me. “You talk when your attention should +be directed to more important matters. That other woman, as you are +pleased to designate the fairest ornament of New York society, sits over +there in tears; go and comfort her.”</p> + +<p>Looking at him in amazement, I hesitated to comply; but, seeing he was +in earnest, crossed to Mary Leavenworth and sat down by her side. +She was weeping, but in a slow, unconscious way, as if grief had been +mastered by fear. The fear was too undisguised and the grief too natural +for me to doubt the genuineness of either.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth,” said I, “any attempt at consolation on the part of a +stranger must seem at a time like this the most bitter of mockeries; but +do try and consider that circumstantial evidence is not always absolute +proof.”</p> + +<p>Starting with surprise, she turned her eyes upon me with a slow, +comprehensive gaze wonderful to see in orbs so tender and womanly.</p> + +<p>“No,” she repeated; “circumstantial evidence is not absolute proof, but +Eleanore does not know this. She is so intense; she cannot see but one +thing at a time. She has been running her head into a noose, and oh,—” +Pausing, she clutched my arm with a passionate grasp: “Do you think +there is any danger? Will they—” She could not go on.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth,” I protested, with a warning look toward the +detective, “what do you mean?”</p> + +<p>Like a flash, her glance followed mine, an instant change taking place +in her bearing.</p> + +<p>“Your cousin may be intense,” I went on, as if nothing had occurred; +“but I do not know to what you refer when you say she has been running +her head into a noose.”</p> + +<p>“I mean this,” she firmly returned: “that, wittingly or unwittingly, she +has so parried and met the questions which have been put to her in this +room that any one listening to her would give her the credit of +knowing more than she ought to of this horrible affair. She acts”—Mary +whispered, but not so low but that every word could be distinctly +heard in all quarters of the room—“as if she were anxious to conceal +something. But she is not; I am sure she is not. Eleanore and I are not +good friends; but all the world can never make me believe she has any +more knowledge of this murder than I have. Won’t somebody tell her, +then—won’t you—that her manner is a mistake; that it is calculated to +arouse suspicion; that it has already done so? And oh, don’t forget to +add”—her voice sinking to a decided whisper now—“what you have just +repeated to me: that circumstantial evidence is not always absolute +proof.”</p> + +<p>I surveyed her with great astonishment. What an actress this woman was!</p> + +<p>“You request me to tell her this,” said I. “Wouldn’t it be better for +you to speak to her yourself?”</p> + +<p>“Eleanore and I hold little or no confidential communication,” she +replied.</p> + +<p>I could easily believe this, and yet I was puzzled. Indeed, there was +something incomprehensible in her whole manner. Not knowing what else +to say, I remarked, “That is unfortunate. She ought to be told that the +straightforward course is the best by all means.”</p> + +<p>Mary Leavenworth only wept. “Oh, why has this awful trouble come to me, +who have always been so happy before!”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps for the very reason that you have always been so happy.”</p> + +<p>“It was not enough for dear uncle to die in this horrible manner; but +she, my own cousin, had to——”</p> + +<p>I touched her arm, and the action seemed to recall her to herself. +Stopping short, she bit her lip.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth,” I whispered, “you should hope for the best. Besides, +I honestly believe you to be disturbing yourself unnecessarily. If +nothing fresh transpires, a mere prevarication or so of your cousin’s +will not suffice to injure her.”</p> + +<p>I said this to see if she had any reason to doubt the future. I was +amply rewarded.</p> + +<p>“Anything fresh? How could there be anything fresh, when she is +perfectly innocent?”</p> + +<p>Suddenly, a thought seemed to strike her. Wheeling round in her seat +till her lovely, perfumed wrapper brushed my knee, she asked: “Why +didn’t they ask me more questions? I could have told them Eleanore never +left her room last night.”</p> + +<p>“You could?” What was I to think of this woman?</p> + +<p>“Yes; my room is nearer the head of the stairs than hers; if she had +passed my door, I should have heard her, don’t you see?”</p> + +<p>Ah, that was all.</p> + +<p>“That does not follow,” I answered sadly. “Can you give no other +reason?”</p> + +<p>“I would say whatever was necessary,” she whispered.</p> + +<p>I started back. Yes, this woman would lie now to save her cousin; had +lied during the inquest. But then I felt grateful, and now I was simply +horrified.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth,” said I, “nothing can justify one in violating the +dictates of his own conscience, not even the safety of one we do not +altogether love.”</p> + +<p>“No?” she returned; and her lip took a tremulous curve, the lovely bosom +heaved, and she softly looked away.</p> + +<p>If Eleanore’s beauty had made less of an impression on my fancy, or her +frightful situation awakened less anxiety in my breast, I should have +been a lost man from that moment.</p> + +<p>“I did not mean to do anything very wrong,” Miss Leavenworth continued. +“Do not think too badly of me.”</p> + +<p>“No, no,” said I; and there is not a man living who would not have said +the same in my place.</p> + +<p>What more might have passed between us on this subject I cannot say, for +just then the door opened and a man entered whom I recognized as the one +who had followed Eleanore Leavenworth out, a short time before.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Gryce,” said he, pausing just inside the door; “a word if you +please.”</p> + +<p>The detective nodded, but did not hasten towards him; instead of that, +he walked deliberately away to the other end of the room, where he +lifted the lid of an inkstand he saw there, muttered some unintelligible +words into it, and speedily shut it again. Immediately the uncanny fancy +seized me that if I should leap to that inkstand, open it and peer in, +I should surprise and capture the bit of confidence he had intrusted +to it. But I restrained my foolish impulse, and contented myself with +noting the subdued look of respect with which the gaunt subordinate +watched the approach of his superior.</p> + +<p>“Well?” inquired the latter as he reached him: “what now?”</p> + +<p>The man shrugged his shoulders, and drew his principal through the open +door. Once in the hall their voices sank to a whisper, and as their +backs only were visible, I turned to look at my companion. She was pale +but composed.</p> + +<p>“Has he come from Eleanore?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know; I fear so. Miss Leavenworth,” I proceeded, “can it be +possible that your cousin has anything in her possession she desires to +conceal?”</p> + +<p>“Then you think she is trying to conceal something?”</p> + +<p>“I do not say so. But there was considerable talk about a paper——”</p> + +<p>“They will never find any paper or anything else suspicious in +Eleanore’s possession,” Mary interrupted. “In the first place, there +was no paper of importance enough”—I saw Mr. Gryce’s form suddenly +stiffen—“for any one to attempt its abstraction and concealment.”</p> + +<p>“Can you be sure of that? May not your cousin be acquainted with +something——”</p> + +<p>“There was nothing to be acquainted with, Mr. Raymond. We lived the most +methodical and domestic of lives. I cannot understand, for my part, why +so much should be made out of this. My uncle undoubtedly came to his +death by the hand of some intended burglar. That nothing was stolen from +the house is no proof that a burglar never entered it. As for the doors +and windows being locked, will you take the word of an Irish servant +as infallible upon such an important point? I cannot. I believe the +assassin to be one of a gang who make their living by breaking into +houses, and if you cannot honestly agree with me, do try and consider +such an explanation as possible; if not for the sake of the family +credit, why then”—and she turned her face with all its fair beauty upon +mine, eyes, cheeks, mouth all so exquisite and winsome—“why then, for +mine.”</p> + +<p>Instantly Mr. Gryce turned towards us. “Mr. Raymond, will you be kind +enough to step this way?”</p> + +<p>Glad to escape from my present position, I hastily obeyed.</p> + +<p>“What has happened?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“We propose to take you into our confidence,” was the easy response. +“Mr. Raymond, Mr. Fobbs.”</p> + +<p>I bowed to the man I saw before me, and stood uneasily waiting. Anxious +as I was to know what we really had to fear, I still intuitively shrank +from any communication with one whom I looked upon as a spy.</p> + +<p>“A matter of some importance,” resumed the detective. “It is not +necessary for me to remind you that it is in confidence, is it?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“I thought not. Mr. Fobbs you may proceed.”</p> + +<p>Instantly the whole appearance of the man Fobbs changed. Assuming an +expression of lofty importance, he laid his large hand outspread upon +his heart and commenced.</p> + +<p>“Detailed by Mr. Gryce to watch the movements of Miss Eleanore +Leavenworth, I left this room upon her departure from it, and followed +her and the two servants who conducted her up-stairs to her own +apartment. Once there—-”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce interrupted him. “Once there? where?”</p> + +<p>“Her own room, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Where situated?”</p> + +<p>“At the head of the stairs.”</p> + +<p>“That is not her room. Go on.”</p> + +<p>“Not her room? Then it <i>was</i> the fire she was after!” he cried, clapping +himself on the knee.</p> + +<p>“The fire?”</p> + +<p>“Excuse me; I am ahead of my story. She did not appear to notice me +much, though I was right behind her. It was not until she had reached +the door of this room—which was not her room!” he interpolated +dramatically, “and turned to dismiss her servants, that she seemed +conscious of having been followed. Eying me then with an air of +great dignity, quickly eclipsed, however, by an expression of patient +endurance, she walked in, leaving the door open behind her in a +courteous way I cannot sufficiently commend.”</p> + +<p>I could not help frowning. Honest as the man appeared, this was +evidently anything but a sore subject with him. Observing me frown, he +softened his manner.</p> + +<p>“Not seeing any other way of keeping her under my eye, except by +entering the room, I followed her in, and took a seat in a remote +corner. She flashed one look at me as I did so, and commenced pacing the +floor in a restless kind of way I’m not altogether unused to. At last +she stopped abruptly, right in the middle of the room. ‘Get me a glass +of water!’ she gasped; ‘I’m faint again—quick! on the stand in the +corner.’ Now in order to get that glass of water it was necessary for me +to pass behind a dressing mirror that reached almost to the ceiling; +and I naturally hesitated. But she turned and looked at me, and—Well, +gentlemen, I think either of you would have hastened to do what she +asked; or at least”—with a doubtful look at Mr. Gryce—“have given +your two ears for the privilege, even if you didn’t succumb to the +temptation.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well!” exclaimed Mr. Gryce, impatiently.</p> + + +<div class="figcenter illowp70" id="i-088"> +<img class="w100" src="images/i-088.jpg" alt="" /> +<div class="caption p15bot">“She . . . was fumbling with the waist of her dress in a way to convince me she had something concealed there which she was anxious to dispose of”</div> +</div> + + +<p>“I am going on,” said he. “I stepped out of sight, then, for a moment; +but it seemed long enough for her purpose; for when I emerged, glass in +hand, she was kneeling at the grate full five feet from the spot where +she had been standing, and was fumbling with the waist of her dress in +a way to convince me she had something concealed there which she was +anxious to dispose of. I eyed her pretty closely as I handed her the +glass of water, but she was gazing into the grate, and didn’t appear to +notice. Drinking barely a drop, she gave it back, and in another moment +was holding out her hands over the fire. ‘Oh, I am so cold!’ she cried, +‘so cold.’ And I verily believe she was. At any rate, she shivered most +naturally. But there were a few dying embers in the grate, and when +I saw her thrust her hand again into the folds of her dress I became +distrustful of her intentions and, drawing a step nearer, looked over +her shoulder, when I distinctly saw her drop something into the +grate that clinked as it fell. Suspecting what it was, I was about to +interfere, when she sprang to her feet, seized the scuttle of coal that +was upon the hearth, and with one move emptied the whole upon the dying +embers. ‘I want a fire,’ she cried, ‘a fire!’ ‘That is hardly the way +to make one,’ I returned, carefully taking the coal out with my hands, +piece by piece, and putting it back into the scuttle, till—”</p> + +<p>“Till what?” I asked, seeing him and Mr. Gryce exchange a hurried look.</p> + +<p>“Till I found this!” opening his large hand, and showing me <i>a +broken-handled key</i>.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="X_MR_GRYCE_RECEIVES_NEW_IMPETUS">X. MR. GRYCE RECEIVES NEW IMPETUS</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“There’s nothing ill</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Can dwell in such a temple.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent11">Tempest.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>This astounding discovery made a most unhappy impression upon me. It was +true, then. Eleanore the beautiful, the lovesome, was—I did not, could +not finish the sentence, even in the silence of my own mind.</p> + +<p>“You look surprised,” said Mr. Gryce, glancing curiously towards the +key. “Now, I ain’t. A woman does not thrill, blush, equivocate, and +faint for nothing; especially such a woman as Miss Leavenworth.”</p> + +<p>“A woman who could do such a deed would be the last to thrill, +equivocate, and faint,” I retorted. “Give me the key; let me see it.”</p> + +<p>He complacently put it in my hand. “It is the one we want. No getting +out of that.”</p> + +<p>I returned it. “If she declares herself innocent, I will believe her.”</p> + +<p>He stared with great amazement. “You have strong faith in the women,” he +laughed. “I hope they will never disappoint you.”</p> + +<p>I had no reply for this, and a short silence ensued, first broken by Mr. +Gryce. “There is but one thing left to do,” said he. “Fobbs, you will +have to request Miss Leavenworth to come down. Do not alarm her; only +see that she comes. To the reception room,” he added, as the man drew +off.</p> + +<p>No sooner were we left alone than I made a move to return to Mary, but +he stopped me.</p> + +<p>“Come and see it out,” he whispered. “She will be down in a moment; see +it out; you had best.”</p> + +<p>Glancing back, I hesitated; but the prospect of beholding Eleanore again +drew me, in spite of myself. Telling him to wait, I returned to Mary’s +side to make my excuses.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter—what has occurred?” she breathlessly asked.</p> + +<p>“Nothing as yet to disturb you much. Do not be alarmed.” But my face +betrayed me.</p> + +<p>“There is something!” said she.</p> + +<p>“Your cousin is coming down.”</p> + +<p>“Down here?” and she shrank visibly.</p> + +<p>“No, to the reception room.”</p> + +<p>“I do not understand. It is all dreadful; and no one tells me anything.”</p> + +<p>“I pray God there may be nothing to tell. Judging from your present +faith in your cousin, there will not be. Take comfort, then, and be +assured I will inform you if anything occurs which you ought to know.”</p> + +<p>Giving her a look of encouragement, I left her crushed against the +crimson pillows of the sofa on which she sat, and rejoined Mr. Gryce. We +had scarcely entered the reception room when Eleanore Leavenworth came +in.</p> + +<p>More languid than she was an hour before, but haughty still, she slowly +advanced, and, meeting my eye, gently bent her head.</p> + +<p>“I have been summoned here,” said she, directing herself exclusively to +Mr. Gryce, “by an individual whom I take to be in your employ. If so, +may I request you to make your wishes known at once, as I am quite +exhausted, and am in great need of rest.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth,” returned Mr. Gryce, rubbing his hands together and +staring in quite a fatherly manner at the door-knob, “I am very sorry to +trouble you, but the fact is I wish to ask you——”</p> + +<p>But here she stopped him. “Anything in regard to the key which that man +has doubtless told you he saw me drop into the ashes?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Miss.”</p> + +<p>“Then I must refuse to answer any questions concerning it. I have +nothing to say on the subject, unless it is this:”—giving him a look +full of suffering, but full of a certain sort of courage, too—“that he +was right if he told you I had the key in hiding about my person, and +that I attempted to conceal it in the ashes of the grate.”</p> + +<p>“Still, Miss——”</p> + +<p>But she had already withdrawn to the door. “I pray you to excuse me,” +said she. “No argument you could advance would make any difference in my +determination; therefore it would be but a waste of energy on your +part to attempt any.” And, with a flitting glance in my direction, not +without its appeal, she quietly left the room.</p> + +<p>For a moment Mr. Gryce stood gazing after her with a look of great +interest, then, bowing with almost exaggerated homage, he hastily +followed her out.</p> + +<p>I had scarcely recovered from the surprise occasioned by this unexpected +movement when a quick step was heard in the hall, and Mary, flushed and +anxious, appeared at my side.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” she inquired. “What has Eleanore been saying?”</p> + +<p>“Alas!” I answered, “she has not said anything. That is the trouble, +Miss Leavenworth. Your cousin preserves a reticence upon certain points +very painful to witness. She ought to understand that if she persists in +doing this, that——”</p> + +<p>“That what?” There was no mistaking the deep anxiety prompting this +question.</p> + +<p>“That she cannot avoid the trouble that will ensue.”</p> + +<p>For a moment she stood gazing at me, with great horror-stricken, +incredulous eyes; then sinking back into a chair, flung her hands over +her face with the cry:</p> + +<p>“Oh, why were we ever born! Why were we allowed to live! Why did we not +perish with those who gave us birth!”</p> + +<p>In the face of anguish like this, I could not keep still.</p> + +<p>“Dear Miss Leavenworth,” I essayed, “there is no cause for such despair +as this. The future looks dark, but not impenetrable. Your cousin will +listen to reason, and in explaining——”</p> + +<p>But she, deaf to my words, had again risen to her feet, and stood before +me in an attitude almost appalling.</p> + +<p>“Some women in my position would go mad! mad! mad!”</p> + +<p>I surveyed her with growing wonder. I thought I knew what she meant. She +was conscious of having given the cue which had led to this suspicion of +her cousin, and that in this way the trouble which hung over their heads +was of her own making. I endeavored to soothe her, but my efforts +were all unavailing. Absorbed in her own anguish, she paid but little +attention to me. Satisfied at last that I could do nothing more for her, +I turned to go. The movement seemed to arouse her.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry to leave,” said I, “without having afforded you any comfort. +Believe me; I am very anxious to assist you. Is there no one I can send +to your side; no woman friend or relative? It is sad to leave you alone +in this house at such a time.”</p> + +<p>“And do you expect me to remain here? Why, I should die! Here to-night?” +and the long shudders shook her very frame.</p> + +<p>“It is not at all necessary for you to do so, Miss Leavenworth,” broke +in a bland voice over our shoulders.</p> + +<p>I turned with a start. Mr. Gryce was not only at our back, but had +evidently been there for some moments. Seated near the door, one hand +in his pocket, the other caressing the arm of his chair, he met our +gaze with a sidelong smile that seemed at once to beg pardon for +the intrusion, and to assure us it was made with no unworthy motive. +“Everything will be properly looked after, Miss; you can leave with +perfect safety.”</p> + +<p>I expected to see her resent this interference; but instead of that, she +manifested a certain satisfaction in beholding him there.</p> + +<p>Drawing me to one side, she whispered, “You think this Mr. Gryce very +clever, do you not?”</p> + +<p>“Well,” I cautiously replied, “he ought to be to hold the position he +does. The authorities evidently repose great confidence in him.”</p> + +<p>Stepping from my side as suddenly as she had approached it, she crossed +the room and stood before Mr. Gryce.</p> + +<p>“Sir,” said she, gazing at him with a glance of entreaty: “I hear you +have great talents; that you can ferret out the real criminal from +a score of doubtful characters, and that nothing can escape the +penetration of your eye. If this is so, have pity on two orphan +girls, suddenly bereft of their guardian and protector, and use your +acknowledged skill in finding out who has committed this crime. It +would be folly in me to endeavor to hide from you that my cousin in her +testimony has given cause for suspicion; but I here declare her to be as +innocent of wrong as I am; and I am only endeavoring to turn the eye +of justice from the guiltless to the guilty when I entreat you to look +elsewhere for the culprit who committed this deed.” Pausing, she held +her two hands out before him. “It must have been some common burglar or +desperado; can you not bring him, then, to justice?”</p> + +<p>Her attitude was so touching, her whole appearance so earnest and +appealing, that I saw Mr. Gryce’s countenance brim with suppressed +emotion, though his eye never left the coffee-urn upon which it had +fixed itself at her first approach.</p> + +<p>“You must find out—you can!” she went on. “Hannah—the girl who is +gone—must know all about it. Search for her, ransack the city, do +anything; my property is at your disposal. I will offer a large reward +for the detection of the burglar who did this deed!”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce slowly rose. “Miss Leavenworth,” he began, and stopped; the +man was actually agitated. “Miss Leavenworth, I did not need your very +touching appeal to incite me to my utmost duty in this case. Personal +and professional pride were in themselves sufficient. But, since you +have honored me with this expression of your wishes, I will not conceal +from you that I shall feel a certain increased interest in the affair +from this hour. What mortal man can do, I will do, and if in one month +from this day I do not come to you for my reward, Ebenezer Gryce is not +the man I have always taken him to be.”</p> + +<p>“And Eleanore?”</p> + +<p>“We will mention no names,” said he, gently waving his hand to and fro.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later, I left the house with Miss Leavenworth, she having +expressed a wish to have me accompany her to the home of her friend, +Mrs. Gilbert, with whom she had decided to take refuge. As we rolled +down the street in the carriage Mr. Gryce had been kind enough to +provide for us, I noticed my companion cast a look of regret behind her, +as if she could not help feeling some compunctions at this desertion of +her cousin.</p> + +<p>But this expression was soon changed for the alert look of one who +dreads to see a certain face start up from some unknown quarter. +Glancing up and down the street, peering furtively into doorways as +we passed, starting and trembling if a sudden figure appeared on the +curbstone, she did not seem to breathe with perfect ease till we had +left the avenue behind us and entered upon Thirty-seventh Street. Then, +all at once her natural color returned and, leaning gently toward me, +she asked if I had a pencil and piece of paper I could give her. I +fortunately possessed both. Handing them to her, I watched her with some +little curiosity while she wrote two or three lines, wondering she could +choose such a time and place for the purpose.</p> + +<p>“A little note I wish to send,” she explained, glancing at the almost +illegible scrawl with an expression of doubt. “Couldn’t you stop the +carriage a moment while I direct it?”</p> + +<p>I did so, and in another instant the leaf which I had torn from my +note-book was folded, directed, and sealed with a stamp which she had +taken from her own pocketbook.</p> + +<p>“That is a crazy-looking epistle,” she muttered, as she laid it, +direction downwards, in her lap.</p> + +<p>“Why not wait, then, till you arrive at your destination, where you can +seal it properly, and direct it at your leisure?”</p> + +<p>“Because I am in haste. I wish to mail it now. Look, there is a box on +the corner; please ask the driver to stop once more.”</p> + +<p>“Shall I not post it for you?” I asked, holding out my hand.</p> + +<p>But she shook her head, and, without waiting for my assistance, opened +the door on her own side of the carriage and leaped to the ground. Even +then she paused to glance up and down the street, before venturing to +drop her hastily written letter into the box. But when it had left her +hand, she looked brighter and more hopeful than I had yet seen her. And +when, a few moments later, she turned to bid me good-by in front of her +friend’s house, it was with almost a cheerful air she put out her hand +and entreated me to call on her the next day, and inform her how the +inquest progressed.</p> + +<p>I shall not attempt to disguise from you the fact that I spent all +that long evening in going over the testimony given at the inquest, +endeavoring to reconcile what I had heard with any other theory than +that of Eleanore’s guilt. Taking a piece of paper, I jotted down the +leading causes of suspicion as follows:</p> + +<p>1. Her late disagreement with her uncle, and evident estrangement from +him, as testified to by Mr. Harwell.</p> + +<p>2. The mysterious disappearance of one of the servants of the house.</p> + +<p>3. The forcible accusation made by her cousin,—overheard, however, only +by Mr. Gryce and myself.</p> + +<p>4. Her equivocation in regard to the handkerchief found stained with +pistol smut on the scene of the tragedy.</p> + +<p>5. Her refusal to speak in regard to the paper which she was supposed to +have taken from Mr. Leavenworth’s table immediately upon the removal of +the body.</p> + +<p>6. The finding of the library key in her possession.</p> + +<p>“A dark record,” I involuntarily decided, as I looked it over; but +even in doing so began jotting down on the other side of the sheet the +following explanatory notes:</p> + +<p>1. Disagreements and even estrangements between relatives are common. +Cases where such disagreements and estrangements have led to crime, +rare.</p> + +<p>2. The disappearance of Hannah points no more certainly in one direction +than another.</p> + +<p>3. If Mary’s private accusation of her cousin was forcible and +convincing, her public declaration that she neither knew nor suspected +who might be the author of this crime, was equally so. To be sure, the +former possessed the advantage of being uttered spontaneously; but it +was likewise true that it was spoken under momentary excitement, without +foresight of the consequences, and possibly without due consideration of +the facts.</p> + +<p>4, 5. An innocent man or woman, under the influence of terror, will +often equivocate in regard to matters that seem to criminate them.</p> + +<p>But the key! What could I say to that? Nothing. With that key in her +possession, and unexplained, Eleanore Leavenworth stood in an attitude +of suspicion which even I felt forced to recognize. Brought to this +point, I thrust the paper into my pocket, and took up the evening +<i>Express</i>. Instantly my eye fell upon these words:</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="center p15 fs150">SHOCKING MURDER</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">MR. LEAVENWORTH, THE WELL-KNOWN MILLIONAIRE, FOUND DEAD IN HIS ROOM</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">NO CLUE TO THE PERPETRATOR OF THE DEED</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center p15bot">THE AWFUL CRIME COMMITTED WITH A PISTOL—EXTRAORDINARY FEATURES OF +THE AFFAIR</p> +</div> + + +<p>Ah! here at least was one comfort; her name was not yet mentioned +as that of a suspected party. But what might not the morrow bring? I +thought of Mr. Gryce’s expressive look as he handed me that key, and +shuddered.</p> + +<p>“She must be innocent; she cannot be otherwise,” I reiterated to myself, +and then pausing, asked what warranty I had of this? Only her beautiful +face; only, only her beautiful face. Abashed, I dropped the newspaper, +and went down-stairs just as a telegraph boy arrived with a message from +Mr. Veeley. It was signed by the proprietor of the hotel at which Mr. +Veeley was then stopping and ran thus:</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="noindent p15">“WASHINGTON, D. C.</p> +<p>“Mr. Everett Raymond—</p> +<p>“Mr. Veeley is lying at my house ill. Have not shown him telegram, +fearing results. Will do so as soon as advisable.</p> +<p class="center p15bot">“Thomas Loworthy.”</p> +</div> + + +<p>I went in musing. Why this sudden sensation of relief on my part? Could +it be that I had unconsciously been guilty of cherishing a latent dread +of my senior’s return? Why, who else could know so well the secret +springs which governed this family? Who else could so effectually put me +upon the right track? Was it possible that I, Everett Raymond, hesitated +to know the truth in any case? No, that should never be said; and, +sitting down again, I drew out the memoranda I had made and, looking +them carefully over, wrote against No. 6 the word <i>suspicious</i> in good +round characters. There! no one could say, after that, I had allowed +myself to be blinded by a bewitching face from seeing what, in a woman +with no claims to comeliness, would be considered at once an almost +indubitable evidence of guilt.</p> + +<p>And yet, after it was all done, I found myself repeating aloud as I +gazed at it: “If she declares herself innocent, I will believe her.” So +completely are we the creatures of our own predilections.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XI_THE_SUMMONS">XI. THE SUMMONS</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“The pink of courtesy.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent9">Romeo and Juliet.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>The morning papers contained a more detailed account of the murder than +those of the evening before; but, to my great relief, in none of them +was Eleanore’s name mentioned in the connection I most dreaded.</p> + +<p>The final paragraph in the <i>Times</i> ran thus: “The detectives are upon +the track of the missing girl, Hannah.” And in the <i>Herald</i> I read the +following notice:</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="p15 p15bot">“<i>A Liberal Reward</i> will be given by the relatives of Horatio +Leavenworth, Esq., deceased, for any news of the whereabouts of one +Hannah Chester, disappeared from the house —— Fifth Avenue since +the evening of March 4. Said girl was of Irish extraction; in age about +twenty-five, and may be known by the following characteristics. Form +tall and slender; hair dark brown with a tinge of red; complexion fresh; +features delicate and well made; hands small, but with the fingers much +pricked by the use of the needle; feet large, and of a coarser type than +the hands. She had on when last seen a checked gingham dress, brown +and white, and was supposed to have wrapped herself in a red and green +blanket shawl, very old. Beside the above distinctive marks, she had +upon her right hand wrist the scar of a large burn; also a pit or two of +smallpox upon the left temple.”</p> +</div> + + +<p>This paragraph turned my thoughts in a new direction. Oddly enough, I +had expended very little thought upon this girl; and yet how apparent +it was that she was the one person upon whose testimony, if given, +the whole case in reality hinged, I could not agree with those who +considered her as personally implicated in the murder. An accomplice, +conscious of what was before her, would have hid in her pockets whatever +money she possessed. But the roll of bills found in Hannah’s trunk +proved her <i>to</i> have left too hurriedly for this precaution. On the +other hand, if this girl had come unexpectedly upon the assassin at his +work, how could she have been hustled from the house without creating +a disturbance loud enough to have been heard by the ladies, one of +whom had her door open? An innocent girl’s first impulse upon such an +occasion would have been to scream; and yet no scream was heard; she +simply disappeared. What were we to think then? That the person seen +by her was one both known and trusted? I would not consider such a +possibility; so laying down the paper, I endeavored to put away all +further consideration of the affair till I had acquired more facts +upon which to base the theory. But who can control his thoughts when +over-excited upon any one theme? All the morning I found myself turning +the case over in my mind, arriving ever at one of two conclusions. +Hannah Chester must be found, or Eleanore Leavenworth must explain when +and by what means the key of the library door came into her possession.</p> + +<p>At two o’clock I started from my office to attend the inquest; but, +being delayed on the way, missed arriving at the house until after the +delivery of the verdict. This was a disappointment to me, especially as +by these means I lost the opportunity of seeing Eleanore Leavenworth, +she having retired to her room immediately upon the dismissal of the +jury. But Mr. Harwell was visible, and from him I heard what the verdict +had been.</p> + +<p>“Death by means of a pistol shot from the hand of some person unknown.”</p> + +<p>The result of the inquest was a great relief to me. I had feared worse. +Nor could I help seeing that, for all his studied self-command, the +pale-faced secretary shared in my satisfaction.</p> + +<p>What was less of a relief to me was the fact, soon communicated, that +Mr. Gryce and his subordinates had left the premises immediately upon +the delivery of the verdict. Mr. Gryce was not the man to forsake an +affair like this while anything of importance connected with it remained +unexplained. Could it be he meditated any decisive action? Somewhat +alarmed, I was about to hurry from the house for the purpose of learning +what his intentions were, when a sudden movement in the front lower +window of the house on the opposite side of the way arrested my +attention, and, looking closer, I detected the face of Mr. Fobbs peering +out from behind the curtain. The sight assured me I was not wrong in my +estimate of Mr. Gryce; and, struck with pity for the desolate girl left +to meet the exigencies of a fate to which this watch upon her movements +was but the evident precursor, I stepped back and sent her a note, in +which, as Mr. Veeley’s representative, I proffered my services in case +of any sudden emergency, saying I was always to be found in my rooms +between the hours of six and eight. This done, I proceeded to the house +in Thirty-seventh Street where I had left Miss Mary Leavenworth the day +before.</p> + +<p>Ushered into the long and narrow drawing-room which of late years +has been so fashionable in our uptown houses, I found myself almost +immediately in the presence of Miss Leavenworth.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she cried, with an eloquent gesture of welcome, “I had begun to +think I was forsaken!” and advancing impulsively, she held out her hand. +“What is the news from home?”</p> + +<p>“A verdict of murder, Miss Leavenworth.”</p> + +<p>Her eyes did not lose their question.</p> + +<p>“Perpetrated by party or parties unknown.”</p> + +<p>A look of relief broke softly across her features.</p> + +<p>“And they are all gone?” she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“I found no one in the house who did not belong there.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! then we can breathe easily again.”</p> + +<p>I glanced hastily up and down the room.</p> + +<p>“There is no one here,” said she.</p> + +<p>And still I hesitated. At length, in an awkward way enough, I turned +towards her and said:</p> + +<p>“I do not wish either to offend or alarm you, but I must say that I +consider it your duty to return to your own home to-night.”</p> + +<p>“Why?” she stammered. “Is there any particular reason for my doing so? +Have you not perceived the impossibility of my remaining in the same +house with Eleanore?”</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth, I cannot recognize any so-called impossibility of +this nature. Eleanore is your cousin; has been brought up to regard you +as a sister; it is not worthy of you to desert her at the time of her +necessity. You will see this as I do, if you will allow yourself a +moment’s dispassionate thought.”</p> + +<p>“Dispassionate thought is hardly possible under the circumstances,” she +returned, with a smile of bitter irony.</p> + +<p>But before I could reply to this, she softened, and asked if I was very +anxious to have her return; and when I replied, “More than I can say,” +she trembled and looked for a moment as if she were half inclined to +yield; but suddenly broke into tears, crying it was impossible, and that +I was cruel to ask it.</p> + +<p>I drew back, baffled and sore. “Pardon me,” said I, “I have indeed +transgressed the bounds allotted to me. I will not do so again; you have +doubtless many friends; let some of them advise you.”</p> + +<p>She turned upon me all fire. “The friends you speak of are flatterers. +You alone have the courage to command me to do what is right.”</p> + +<p>“Excuse me, I do not command; I only entreat.”</p> + +<p>She made no reply, but began pacing the room, her eyes fixed, her hands +working convulsively. “You little know what you ask,” said she. “I feel +as though the very atmosphere of that house would destroy me; but—why +cannot Eleanore come here?” she impulsively inquired. “I know Mrs. +Gilbert will be quite willing, and I could keep my room, and we need not +meet.”</p> + +<p>“You forget that there is another call at home, besides the one I have +already mentioned. To-morrow afternoon your uncle is to be buried.”</p> + +<p>“O yes; poor, poor uncle!”</p> + +<p>“You are the head of the household,” I now ventured, “and the proper +one to attend to the final offices towards one who has done so much for +you.”</p> + +<p>There was something strange in the look which she gave me. “It is true,” +she assented. Then, with a grand turn of her body, and a quick air of +determination: “I am desirous of being worthy of your good opinion. I +will go back to my cousin, Mr. Raymond.”</p> + +<p>I felt my spirits rise a little; I took her by the hand. “May that +cousin have no need of the comfort which I am now sure you will be ready +to give her.”</p> + +<p>Her hand dropped from mine. “I mean to do my duty,” was her cold +response.</p> + +<p>As I descended the stoop, I met a certain thin and fashionably dressed +young man, who gave me a very sharp look as he passed. As he wore his +clothes a little too conspicuously for the perfect gentleman, and as I +had some remembrance of having seen him at the inquest, I set him down +for a man in Mr. Gryce’s employ, and hasted on towards the avenue; when +what was my surprise to find on the corner another person, who, +while pretending to be on the look out for a car, cast upon me, as I +approached, a furtive glance of intense inquiry. As this latter was, +without question, a gentleman, I felt some annoyance, and, walking +quietly up to him, asked if he found my countenance familiar, that he +scrutinized it so closely.</p> + +<p>“I find it a very agreeable one,” was his unexpected reply, as he turned +from me and walked down the avenue.</p> + +<p>Nettled, and in no small degree mortified, at the disadvantage in which +his courtesy had placed me, I stood watching him as he disappeared, +asking myself who and what he was. For he was not only a gentleman, but +a marked one; possessing features of unusual symmetry as well as a form +of peculiar elegance. Not so very young—he might well be forty—there +were yet evident on his face the impress of youth’s strongest emotions, +not a curve of his chin nor a glance of his eye betraying in any way the +slightest leaning towards <i>ennui</i>, though face and figure were of that +type which seems most to invite and cherish it.</p> + +<p>“He can have no connection with the police force,” thought I; “nor is it +by any means certain that he knows me, or is interested in my affairs; +but I shall not soon forget him, for all that.”</p> + +<p>The summons from Eleanore Leavenworth came about eight o’clock in the +evening. It was brought by Thomas, and read as follows:</p> + +<p>“Come, Oh, come! I—” there breaking off in a tremble, as if the pen had +fallen from a nerveless hand.</p> + +<p>It did not take me long to find my way to her home.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XII_ELEANORE">XII. ELEANORE.</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Constant you are—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">. . . And for secrecy</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No lady closer.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent6">Henry IV.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“No, ’tis slander,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose edge is sharper than the sword whose tongue</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Outvenoms all the worms of Nile.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent15">Cymbeline.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>The door was opened by Molly. “You will find Miss Eleanore in the +drawing-room, sir,” she said, ushering me in.</p> + +<p>Fearing I knew not what, I hurried to the room thus indicated, feeling +as never before the sumptuousness of the magnificent hall with its +antique flooring, carved woods, and bronze ornamentations:—the mockery +of <i>things</i> for the first time forcing itself upon me. Laying my hand +on the drawing-room door, I listened. All was silent. Slowly pulling it +open, I lifted the heavy satin curtains hanging before me to the floor, +and looked within. What a picture met my eyes!</p> + +<p>Sitting in the light of a solitary gas jet, whose faint glimmering just +served to make visible the glancing satin and stainless marble of +the gorgeous apartment, I beheld Eleanore Leavenworth. Pale as the +sculptured image of the Psyche that towered above her from the mellow +dusk of the bow-window near which she sat, beautiful as it, and almost +as immobile, she crouched with rigid hands frozen in forgotten entreaty +before her, apparently insensible to sound, movement, or touch; a silent +figure of despair in presence of an implacable fate.</p> + +<p>Impressed by the scene, I stood with my hand upon the curtain, +hesitating if to advance or retreat, when suddenly a sharp tremble shook +her impassive frame, the rigid hands unlocked, the stony eyes softened, +and, springing to her feet, she uttered a cry of satisfaction, and +advanced towards me.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth!” I exclaimed, starting at the sound of my own voice.</p> + +<p>She paused, and pressed her hands to her face, as if the world and all +she had forgotten had rushed back upon her at this simple utterance of +her name.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” I asked.</p> + +<p>Her hands fell heavily. “Do you not know? They—they are beginning to +say that I—” she paused, and clutched her throat. “Read!” she gasped, +pointing to a newspaper lying on the floor at her feet.</p> + +<p>I stooped and lifted what showed itself at first glance to be the +<i>Evening Telegram</i>. It needed but a single look to inform me to what she +referred. There, in startling characters, I beheld:</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="center p15 fs150">THE LEAVENWORTH MURDER</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">LATEST DEVELOPMENTS IN THE MYSTERIOUS CASE</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">A MEMBER OF THE MURDERED MAN’S OWN FAMILY +STRONGLY SUSPECTED OF THE CRIME</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IN NEW YORK UNDER A CLOUD</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center p15bot">PAST HISTORY OF MISS ELEANORE LEAVENWORTH</p> +</div> + + +<p>I was prepared for it; had schooled myself for this very thing, you +might say; and yet I could not help recoiling. Dropping the paper from +my hand, I stood before her, longing and yet dreading to look into her +face.</p> + +<p>“What does it mean?” she panted; “what, what does it mean? Is the world +mad?” and her eyes, fixed and glassy, stared into mine as if she found +it impossible to grasp the sense of this outrage.</p> + +<p>I shook my head. I could not reply.</p> + +<p>“To accuse <i>me</i>,” she murmured; “me, me!” striking her breast with her +clenched hand, “who loved the very ground he trod upon; who would have +cast my own body between him and the deadly bullet if I had only known +his danger. Oh!” she cried, “it is not a slander they utter, but a +dagger which they thrust into my heart!”</p> + +<p>Overcome by her misery, but determined not to show my compassion until +more thoroughly convinced of her complete innocence, I replied, after a +pause:</p> + +<p>“This seems to strike you with great surprise, Miss Leavenworth; were +you not then able to foresee what must follow your determined reticence +upon certain points? Did you know so little of human nature as to +imagine that, situated as you are, you could keep silence in regard to +any matter connected with this crime, without arousing the antagonism of +the crowd, to say nothing of the suspicions of the police?”</p> + +<p>“But—but——”</p> + +<p>I hurriedly waved my hand. “When you defied the coroner to find +any suspicious paper in your possession; when”—I forced myself to +speak—“you refused to tell Mr. Gryce how you came in possession of the +key—”</p> + +<p>She drew hastily back, a heavy pall seeming to fall over her with my +words.</p> + +<p>“Don’t,” she whispered, looking in terror about her. “Don’t! Sometimes I +think the walls have ears, and that the very shadows listen.”</p> + +<p>“Ah,” I returned; “then you hope to keep from the world what is known to +the detectives?”</p> + +<p>She did not answer.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth,” I went on, “I am afraid you do not comprehend +your position. Try to look at the case for a moment in the light of +an unprejudiced person; try to see for yourself the necessity of +explaining——”</p> + +<p>“But I cannot explain,” she murmured huskily.</p> + +<p>“Cannot!”</p> + +<p>I do not know whether it was the tone of my voice or the word itself, +but that simple expression seemed to affect her like a blow.</p> + +<p>“Oh!” she cried, shrinking back: “you do not, cannot doubt me, too? I +thought that you—” and stopped. “I did not dream that I—” and stopped +again. Suddenly her whole form quivered. “Oh, I see! You have mistrusted +me from the first; the appearances against me have been too strong”; and +she sank inert, lost in the depths of her shame and humiliation. “Ah, +but now I am forsaken!” she murmured.</p> + +<p>The appeal went to my heart. Starting forward, I exclaimed: “Miss +Leavenworth, I am but a man; I cannot see you so distressed. Say +that you are innocent, and I will believe you, without regard to +appearances.”</p> + +<p>Springing erect, she towered upon me. “Can any one look in my face +and accuse me of guilt?” Then, as I sadly shook my head, she hurriedly +gasped: “You want further proof!” and, quivering with an extraordinary +emotion, she sprang to the door.</p> + +<p>“Come, then,” she cried, “come!” her eyes flashing full of resolve upon +me.</p> + +<p>Aroused, appalled, moved in spite of myself, I crossed the room to where +she stood; but she was already in the hall. Hastening after her, filled +with a fear I dared not express, I stood at the foot of the stairs; she +was half-way to the top. Following her into the hall above, I saw her +form standing erect and noble at the door of her uncle’s bedroom.</p> + +<p>“Come!” she again cried, but this time in a calm and reverential tone; +and flinging the door open before her, she passed in.</p> + +<p>Subduing the wonder which I felt, I slowly followed her. There was no +light in the room of death, but the flame of the gas-burner, at the far +end of the hall, shone weirdly in, and by its glimmering I beheld her +kneeling at the shrouded bed, her head bowed above that of the murdered +man, her hand upon his breast.</p> + +<p>“You have said that if I declared my innocence you would believe me,” +she exclaimed, lifting her head as I entered. “See here,” and laying +her cheek against the pallid brow of her dead benefactor, she kissed the +clay-cold lips softly, wildly, agonizedly, then, leaping to her feet, +cried, in a subdued but thrilling tone: “Could I do that if I were +guilty? Would not the breath freeze on my lips, the blood congeal in +my veins, and my heart faint at this contact? Son of a father loved and +reverenced, can you believe me to be a woman stained with crime when I +can do this?” and kneeling again she cast her arms over and about that +inanimate form, looking in my face at the same time with an expression +no mortal touch could paint, nor tongue describe.</p> + +<p>“In olden times,” she went on, “they used to say that a dead body would +bleed if its murderer came in contact with it. What then would happen +here if I, his daughter, his cherished child, loaded with benefits, +enriched with his jewels, warm with his kisses, should be the thing they +accuse me of? Would not the body of the outraged dead burst its very +shroud and repel me?”</p> + +<p>I could not answer; in the presence of some scenes the tongue forgets +its functions.</p> + +<p>“Oh!” she went on, “if there is a God in heaven who loves justice and +hates a crime, let Him hear me now. If I, by thought or action, with +or without intention, have been the means of bringing this dear head to +this pass; if so much as the shadow of guilt, let alone the substance, +lies upon my heart and across these feeble woman’s hands, may His wrath +speak in righteous retribution to the world, and here, upon the breast +of the dead, let this guilty forehead fall, never to rise again!”</p> + +<p>An awed silence followed this invocation; then a long, long sigh of +utter relief rose tremulously from my breast, and all the feelings +hitherto suppressed in my heart burst their bonds, and leaning towards +her I took her hand in mine.</p> + +<p>“You do not, cannot believe me tainted by crime now?” she whispered, +the smile which does not stir the lips, but rather emanates from the +countenance, like the flowering of an inner peace, breaking softly out +on cheek and brow.</p> + +<p>“Crime!” The word broke uncontrollably from my lips; “crime!”</p> + +<p>“No,” she said calmly, “the man does not live who could accuse me of +crime, <i>here</i>.”</p> + +<p>For reply, I took her hand, which lay in mine, and placed it on the +breast of the dead.</p> + +<p>Softly, slowly, gratefully, she bowed her head.</p> + +<p>“Now let the struggle come!” she whispered. “There is one who will +believe in me, however dark appearances may be.”</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIII_THE_PROBLEM">XIII. THE PROBLEM.</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“But who would force the soul, tilts with a straw</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Against a champion cased in adamant.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent18">Wordsworth.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>When we re-entered the parlor below, the first sight that met our eyes +was Mary, standing wrapped in her long cloak in the centre of the room. +She had arrived during our absence, and now awaited us with lifted head +and countenance fixed in its proudest expression. Looking in her face, I +realized what the embarrassment of this meeting must be to these +women, and would have retreated, but something in the attitude of Mary +Leavenworth seemed to forbid my doing so. At the same time, determined +that the opportunity should not pass without some sort of reconcilement +between them, I stepped forward, and, bowing to Mary, said:</p> + +<p>“Your cousin has just succeeded in convincing me of her entire +innocence, Miss Leavenworth. I am now ready to join Mr. Gryce, heart and +soul, in finding out the true culprit.”</p> + +<p>“I should have thought one look into Eleanore Leavenworth’s face would +have been enough to satisfy you that she is incapable of crime,” was +her unexpected answer; and, lifting her head with a proud gesture, Mary +Leavenworth fixed her eyes steadfastly on mine.</p> + +<p>I felt the blood flash to my brow, but before I could speak, her voice +rose again still more coldly than before.</p> + +<p>“It is hard for a delicate girl, unused to aught but the most flattering +expressions of regard, to be obliged to assure the world of her +innocence in respect to the committal of a great crime. Eleanore has +my sympathy.” And sweeping her cloak from her shoulders with a quick +gesture, she turned her gaze for the first time upon her cousin.</p> + +<p>Instantly Eleanore advanced, as if to meet it; and I could not but feel +that, for some reason, this moment possessed an importance for them +which I was scarcely competent to measure. But if I found myself unable +to realize its significance, I at least responded to its intensity. And +indeed it was an occasion to remember. To behold two such women, either +of whom might be considered the model of her time, face to face +and drawn up in evident antagonism, was a sight to move the dullest +sensibilities. But there was something more in this scene than that. It +was the shock of all the most passionate emotions of the human soul; +the meeting of waters of whose depth and force I could only guess by the +effect. Eleanore was the first to recover. Drawing back with the cold +haughtiness which, alas, I had almost forgotten in the display of later +and softer emotions, she exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“There is something better than sympathy, and that is justice”; and +turned, as if to go. “I will confer with you in the reception room, Mr. +Raymond.”</p> + +<p>But Mary, springing forward, caught her back with one powerful hand. +“No,” she cried, “you shall confer with <i>me</i>! I have something to say to +you, Eleanore Leavenworth.” And, taking her stand in the centre of the +room, she waited.</p> + +<p>I glanced at Eleanore, saw this was no place for me, and hastily +withdrew. For ten long minutes I paced the floor of the reception room, +a prey to a thousand doubts and conjectures. What was the secret of this +home? What had given rise to the deadly mistrust continually manifested +between these cousins, fitted by nature for the completest companionship +and the most cordial friendship? It was not a thing of to-day or +yesterday. No sudden flame could awake such concentrated heat of emotion +as that of which I had just been the unwilling witness. One must go +farther back than this murder to find the root of a mistrust so great +that the struggle it caused made itself felt even where I stood, though +nothing but the faintest murmur came to my ears through the closed +doors.</p> + +<p>Presently the drawing-room curtain was raised, and Mary’s voice was +heard in distinct articulation.</p> + +<p>“The same roof can never shelter us both after this. To-morrow, you or I +find another home.” And, blushing and panting, she stepped into the +hall and advanced to where I stood. But at the first sight of my face, +a change came over her; all her pride seemed to dissolve, and, flinging +out her hands, as if to ward off scrutiny, she fled from my side, and +rushed weeping up-stairs.</p> + +<p>I was yet laboring under the oppression caused by this painful +termination of the strange scene when the parlor curtain was again +lifted, and Eleanore entered the room where I was. Pale but calm, +showing no evidences of the struggle she had just been through, unless +by a little extra weariness about the eyes, she sat down by my side, +and, meeting my gaze with one unfathomable in its courage, said after +a pause: “Tell me where I stand; let me know the worst at once; I fear +that I have not indeed comprehended my own position.”</p> + +<p>Rejoiced to hear this acknowledgment from her lips, I hastened to +comply. I began by placing before her the whole case as it appeared +to an unprejudiced person; enlarged upon the causes of suspicion, and +pointed out in what regard some things looked dark against her, which +perhaps to her own mind were easily explainable and of small account; +tried to make her see the importance of her decision, and finally wound +up with an appeal. Would she not confide in me?</p> + +<p>“But I thought you were satisfied?” she tremblingly remarked.</p> + +<p>“And so I am; but I want the world to be so, too.”</p> + +<p>“Ah; now you ask too much! The finger of suspicion never forgets the way +it has once pointed,” she sadly answered. “My name is tainted forever.”</p> + +<p>“And you will submit to this, when a word—”</p> + +<p>“I am thinking that any word of mine now would make very little +difference,” she murmured.</p> + +<p>I looked away, the vision of Mr. Fobbs, in hiding behind the curtains of +the opposite house, recurring painfully to my mind.</p> + +<p>“If the affair looks as bad as you say it does,” she pursued, “it is +scarcely probable that Mr. Gryce will care much for any interpretation +of mine in regard to the matter.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Gryce would be glad to know where you procured that key, if only to +assist him in turning his inquiries in the right direction.”</p> + +<p>She did not reply, and my spirits sank in renewed depression.</p> + +<p>“It is worth your while to satisfy him,” I pursued; “and though it may +compromise some one you desire to shield——”</p> + +<p>She rose impetuously. “I shall never divulge to any one how I came in +possession of that key.” And sitting again, she locked her hands in +fixed resolve before her.</p> + +<p>I rose in my turn and paced the floor, the fang of an unreasoning +jealousy striking deep into my heart.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Raymond, if the worst should come, and all who love me should plead +on bended knees for me to tell, I will never do it.”</p> + +<p>“Then,” said I, determined not to disclose my secret thought, but +equally resolved to find out if possible her motive for this silence, +“you desire to defeat the cause of justice.”</p> + +<p>She neither spoke nor moved.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth,” I now said, “this determined shielding of another at +the expense of your own good name is no doubt generous of you; but +your friends and the lovers of truth and justice cannot accept such a +sacrifice.”</p> + +<p>She started haughtily. “Sir!” she said.</p> + +<p>“If you will not assist us,” I went on calmly, but determinedly, “we +must do without your aid. After the scene I have just witnessed above; +after the triumphant conviction which you have forced upon me, not only +of your innocence, but your horror of the crime and its consequences, I +should feel myself less than a man if I did not sacrifice even your own +good opinion, in urging your cause, and clearing your character from +this foul aspersion.”</p> + +<p>Again that heavy silence.</p> + +<p>“What do you propose to do?” she asked, at last.</p> + +<p>Crossing the room, I stood before her. “I propose to relieve you utterly +and forever from suspicion, by finding out and revealing to the world +the true culprit.”</p> + +<p>I expected to see her recoil, so positive had I become by this time +as to who that culprit was. But instead of that, she merely folded her +hands still more tightly and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“I doubt if you will be able to do that, Mr. Raymond.”</p> + +<p>“Doubt if I will be able to put my finger upon the guilty man, or doubt +if I will be able to bring him to justice?”</p> + +<p>“I doubt,” she said with strong effort, “if any one ever knows who is +the guilty person in this case.”</p> + +<p>“There is one who knows,” I said with a desire to test her.</p> + +<p>“One?”</p> + +<p>“The girl Hannah is acquainted with the mystery of that night’s evil +doings, Miss Leavenworth. Find Hannah, and we find one who can point out +to us the assassin of your uncle.”</p> + +<p>“That is mere supposition,” she said; but I saw the blow had told.</p> + +<p>“Your cousin has offered a large reward for the girl, and the whole +country is on the lookout. Within a week we shall see her in our midst.”</p> + +<p>A change took place in her expression and bearing.</p> + +<p>“The girl cannot help me,” she said.</p> + +<p>Baffled by her manner, I drew back. “Is there anything or anybody that +can?”</p> + +<p>She slowly looked away.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth,” I continued with renewed earnestness, “you have no +brother to plead with you, you have no mother to guide you; let me then +entreat, in default of nearer and dearer friends, that you will rely +sufficiently upon me to tell me one thing.”</p> + +<p>“What is it?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Whether you took the paper imputed to you from the library table?”</p> + +<p>She did not instantly respond, but sat looking earnestly before her with +an intentness which seemed to argue that she was weighing the question +as well as her reply. Finally, turning toward me, she said:</p> + +<p>“In answering you, I speak in confidence. Mr. Raymond, I did.”</p> + +<p>Crushing back the sigh of despair that arose to my lips, I went on.</p> + +<p>“I will not inquire what the paper was,”—she waved her hand +deprecatingly,—“but this much more you will tell me. Is that paper +still in existence?”</p> + +<p>She looked me steadily in the face.</p> + +<p>“It is not.”</p> + +<p>I could with difficulty forbear showing my disappointment. “Miss +Leavenworth,” I now said, “it may seem cruel for me to press you at this +time; nothing less than my strong realization of the peril in which you +stand would induce me to run the risk of incurring your displeasure by +asking what under other circumstances would seem puerile and insulting +questions. You have told me one thing which I strongly desired to know; +will you also inform me what it was you heard that night while sitting +in your room, between the time of Mr. Harwell’s going up-stairs and the +closing of the library door, of which you made mention at the inquest?”</p> + +<p>I had pushed my inquiries too far, and I saw it immediately.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Raymond,” she returned, “influenced by my desire not to appear +utterly ungrateful to you, I have been led to reply in confidence to one +of your urgent appeals; but I can go no further. Do not ask me to.”</p> + +<p>Stricken to the heart by her look of reproach, I answered with some +sadness that her wishes should be respected. “Not but what I intend to +make every effort in my power to discover the true author of this crime. +That is a sacred duty which I feel myself called upon to perform; but I +will ask you no more questions, nor distress you with further appeals. +What is done shall be done without your assistance, and with no other +hope than that in the event of my success you will acknowledge my +motives to have been pure and my action disinterested.”</p> + +<p>“I am ready to acknowledge that now,” she began, but paused and looked +with almost agonized entreaty in my face. “Mr. Raymond, cannot you leave +things as they are? Won’t you? I don’t ask for assistance, nor do I want +it; I would rather——”</p> + +<p>But I would not listen. “Guilt has no right to profit by the generosity +of the guiltless. The hand that struck this blow shall not be +accountable for the loss of a noble woman’s honor and happiness as well.</p> + +<p>“I shall do what I can, Miss Leavenworth.”</p> + +<p>As I walked down the avenue that night, feeling like an adventurous +traveller that in a moment of desperation has set his foot upon a plank +stretching in narrow perspective over a chasm of immeasurable depth, +this problem evolved itself from the shadows before me: How, with no +other clue than the persuasion that Eleanore Leavenworth was engaged in +shielding another at the expense of her own good name, I was to +combat the prejudices of Mr. Gryce, find out the real assassin of Mr. +Leavenworth, and free an innocent woman from the suspicion that had, not +without some show of reason, fallen upon her?</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="BOOK_II_HENRY_CLAVERING">BOOK II. HENRY CLAVERING</h2> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIV_MR_GRYCE_AT_HOME">XIV. MR. GRYCE AT HOME</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Nay, but hear me.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent8">Measure for Measure.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>That the guilty person for whom Eleanore Leavenworth stood ready to +sacrifice herself was one for whom she had formerly cherished affection, +I could no longer doubt; love, or the strong sense of duty growing out +of love, being alone sufficient to account for such determined action. +Obnoxious as it was to all my prejudices, one name alone, that of the +commonplace secretary, with his sudden heats and changeful manners, his +odd ways and studied self-possession, would recur to my mind whenever I +asked myself who this person could be.</p> + +<p>Not that, without the light which had been thrown upon the affair by +Eleanore’s strange behavior, I should have selected this man as one in +any way open to suspicion; the peculiarity of his manner at the inquest +not being marked enough to counteract the improbability of one in his +relations to the deceased finding sufficient motive for a crime so +manifestly without favorable results to himself. But if love had entered +as a factor into the affair, what might not be expected? James Harwell, +simple amanuensis to a retired tea-merchant, was one man; James Harwell, +swayed by passion for a woman beautiful as Eleanore Leavenworth, was +another; and in placing him upon the list of those parties open to +suspicion I felt I was only doing what was warranted by a proper +consideration of probabilities.</p> + +<p>But, between casual suspicion and actual proof, what a gulf! To believe +James Harwell capable of guilt, and to find evidence enough to accuse +him of it, were two very different things. I felt myself instinctively +shrink from the task, before I had fully made up my mind to attempt it; +some relenting thought of his unhappy position, if innocent, forcing +itself upon me, and making my very distrust of him seem personally +ungenerous if not absolutely unjust. If I had liked the man better, I +should not have been so ready to look upon him with doubt.</p> + +<p>But Eleanore must be saved at all hazards. Once delivered up to the +blight of suspicion, who could tell what the result might be; the arrest +of her person perhaps,—a thing which, once accomplished, would cast a +shadow over her young life that it would take more than time to dispel. +The accusation of an impecunious secretary would be less horrible than +this. I determined to make an early call upon Mr. Gryce.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the contrasted pictures of Eleanore standing with her hand +upon the breast of the dead, her face upraised and mirroring a glory, +I could not recall without emotion; and Mary, fleeing a short half-hour +later indignantly from her presence, haunted me and kept me awake long +after midnight. It was like a double vision of light and darkness that, +while contrasting, neither assimilated nor harmonized. I could not flee +from it. Do what I would, the two pictures followed me, filling my soul +with alternate hope and distrust, till I knew not whether to place my +hand with Eleanore on the breast of the dead, and swear implicit faith +in her truth and purity, or to turn my face like Mary, and fly from what +I could neither comprehend nor reconcile.</p> + +<p>Expectant of difficulty, I started next morning upon my search for Mr. +Gryce, with strong determination not to allow myself to become flurried +by disappointment nor discouraged by premature failure. My business was +to save Eleanore Leavenworth; and to do that, it was necessary for me to +preserve, not only my equanimity, but my self-possession. The worst +fear I anticipated was that matters would reach a crisis before I could +acquire the right, or obtain the opportunity, to interfere. However, the +fact of Mr. Leavenworth’s funeral being announced for that day gave +me some comfort in that direction; my knowledge of Mr. Gryce being +sufficient, as I thought, to warrant me in believing he would wait till +after that ceremony before proceeding to extreme measures.</p> + +<p>I do not know that I had any very definite ideas of what a detective’s +home should be; but when I stood before the neat three-story brick house +to which I had been directed, I could not but acknowledge there was +something in the aspect of its half-open shutters, over closely drawn +curtains of spotless purity, highly suggestive of the character of its +inmate.</p> + +<p>A pale-looking youth, with vivid locks of red hair hanging straight down +over either ear, answered my rather nervous ring. To my inquiry as to +whether Mr. Gryce was in, he gave a kind of snort which might have meant +no, but which I took to mean yes.</p> + +<p>“My name is Raymond, and I wish to see him.”</p> + +<p>He gave me one glance that took in every detail of my person and +apparel, and pointed to a door at the head of the stairs. Not waiting +for further directions, I hastened up, knocked at the door he had +designated, and went in. The broad back of Mr. Gryce, stooping above a +desk that might have come over in the <i>Mayflower</i>, confronted me.</p> + +<p>“Well!” he exclaimed; “this is an honor.” And rising, he opened with a +squeak and shut with a bang the door of an enormous stove that occupied +the centre of the room. “Rather chilly day, eh?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I returned, eyeing him closely to see if he was in a +communicative mood. “But I have had but little time to consider the +state of the weather. My anxiety in regard to this murder——”</p> + +<p>“To be sure,” he interrupted, fixing his eyes upon the poker, though +not with any hostile intention, I am sure. “A puzzling piece of business +enough. But perhaps it is an open book to you. I see you have something +to communicate.”</p> + +<p>“I have, though I doubt if it is of the nature you expect. Mr. Gryce, +since I saw you last, my convictions upon a certain point have been +strengthened into an absolute belief. The object of your suspicions is +an innocent woman.”</p> + +<p>If I had expected him to betray any surprise at this, I was destined to +be disappointed. “That is a very pleasing belief,” he observed. “I honor +you for entertaining it, Mr. Raymond.”</p> + +<p>I suppressed a movement of anger. “So thoroughly is it mine,” I went on, +in the determination to arouse him in some way, “that I have come here +to-day to ask you in the name of justice and common humanity to suspend +action in that direction till we can convince ourselves there is no +truer scent to go upon.”</p> + +<p>But there was no more show of curiosity than before. “Indeed!” he cried; +“that is a singular request to come from a man like you.”</p> + +<p>I was not to be discomposed, “Mr. Gryce,” I went on, “a woman’s name, +once tarnished, remains so forever. Eleanore Leavenworth has too many +noble traits to be thoughtlessly dealt with in so momentous a crisis. If +you will give me your attention, I promise you shall not regret it.”</p> + +<p>He smiled, and allowed his eyes to roam from the poker to the arm of my +chair. “Very well,” he remarked; “I hear you; say on.”</p> + +<p>I drew my notes from my pocketbook, and laid them on the table.</p> + +<p>“What! memoranda?” he exclaimed. “Unsafe, very; never put your plans on +paper.”</p> + +<p>Taking no heed of the interruption, I went on.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Gryce, I have had fuller opportunities than yourself for studying +this woman. I have seen her in a position which no guilty person could +occupy, and I am assured, beyond all doubt, that not only her hands, but +her heart, are pure from this crime. She may have some knowledge of its +secrets; that I do not presume to deny. The key seen in her possession +would refute me if I did. But what if she has? You can never wish to see +so lovely a being brought to shame for withholding information which she +evidently considers it her duty to keep back, when by a little patient +finesse we may succeed in our purposes without it.”</p> + +<p>“But,” interposed the detective, “say this is so; how are we to arrive +at the knowledge we want without following out the only clue which has +yet been given us?”</p> + +<p>“You will never reach it by following out any clue given you by Eleanore +Leavenworth.”</p> + +<p>His eyebrows lifted expressively, but he said nothing.</p> + +<p>“Miss Eleanore Leavenworth has been used by some one acquainted with her +firmness, generosity, and perhaps love. Let us discover who possesses +sufficient power over her to control her to this extent, and we find the +man we seek.”</p> + +<p>“Humph!” came from Mr. Gryce’s compressed lips, and no more.</p> + +<p>Determined that he should speak, I waited.</p> + +<p>“You have, then, some one in your mind”; he remarked at last, almost +flippantly.</p> + +<p>“I mention no names,” I returned. “All I want is further time.”</p> + +<p>“You are, then, intending to make a personal business of this matter?”</p> + +<p>“I am.”</p> + +<p>He gave a long, low whistle. “May I ask,” he inquired at length, +“whether you expect to work entirely by yourself; or whether, if a +suitable coadjutor were provided, you would disdain his assistance and +slight his advice?”</p> + +<p>“I desire nothing more than to have you for my colleague.”</p> + +<p>The smile upon his face deepened ironically. “You must feel very sure of +yourself!” said he.</p> + +<p>“I am very sure of Miss Leavenworth.”</p> + +<p>The reply seemed to please him. “Let us hear what you propose doing.”</p> + +<p>I did not immediately answer. The truth was, I had formed no plans.</p> + +<p>“It seems to me,” he continued, “that you have undertaken a rather +difficult task for an amateur. Better leave it to me, Mr. Raymond; +better leave it to me.”</p> + +<p>“I am sure,” I returned, “that nothing would please me better——”</p> + +<p>“Not,” he interrupted, “but that a word from you now and then would +be welcome. I am not an egotist. I am open to suggestions: as, for +instance, now, if you could conveniently inform me of all you have +yourself seen and heard in regard to this matter, I should be most happy +to listen.”</p> + +<p>Relieved to find him so amenable, I asked myself what I really had to +tell; not so much that he would consider vital. However, it would not do +to hesitate now.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Gryce,” said I, “I have but few facts to add to those already known +to you. Indeed, I am more moved by convictions than facts. That Eleanore +Leavenworth never committed this crime, I am assured. That, on the other +hand, the real perpetrator is known to her, I am equally certain; +and that for some reason she considers it a sacred duty to shield the +assassin, even at the risk of her own safety, follows as a matter +of course from the facts. Now, with such data, it cannot be a very +difficult task for you or me to work out satisfactorily, to our own +minds at least, who this person can be. A little more knowledge of the +family—”</p> + +<p>“You know nothing of its secret history, then?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing.”</p> + +<p>“Do not even know whether either of these girls is engaged to be +married?”</p> + +<p>“I do not,” I returned, wincing at this direct expression of my own +thoughts.</p> + +<p>He remained a moment silent. “Mr. Raymond,” he cried at last, “have +you any idea of the disadvantages under which a detective labors? For +instance, now, you imagine I can insinuate myself into all sorts of +society, perhaps; but you are mistaken. Strange as it may appear, I have +never by any possibility of means succeeded with one class of persons at +all. I cannot pass myself off for a gentleman. Tailors and barbers are +no good; I am always found out.”</p> + +<p>He looked so dejected I could scarcely forbear smiling, notwithstanding +my secret care and anxiety.</p> + +<p>“I have even employed a French valet, who understood dancing and +whiskers; but it was all of no avail. The first gentleman I approached +stared at me,—real gentleman, I mean, none of your American +dandies,—and I had no stare to return; I had forgotten that emergency +in my confabs with Pierre Catnille Marie Make-face.”</p> + +<p>Amused, but a little discomposed by this sudden turn in the +conversation, I looked at Mr. Gryce inquiringly.</p> + +<p>“Now you, I dare say, have no trouble? Was born one, perhaps. Can even +ask a lady to dance without blushing, eh?”</p> + +<p>“Well,—” I commenced.</p> + +<p>“Just so,” he replied; “now, I can’t. I can enter a house, bow to the +mistress of it, let her be as elegant as she will, so long as I have +a writ of arrest in my hand, or some such professional matter upon my +mind; but when it comes to visiting in kid gloves, raising a glass of +champagne in response to a toast—and such like, I am absolutely good +for nothing.” And he plunged his two hands into his hair, and looked +dolefully at the head of the cane I carried in my hand. “But it is much +the same with the whole of us. When we are in want of a gentleman to +work for us, we have to go outside of our profession.”</p> + +<p>I began to see what he was driving at; but held my peace, vaguely +conscious I was likely to prove a necessity to him, after all.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Raymond,” he now said, almost abruptly; “do you know a gentleman by +the name of Clavering residing at present at the Hoffman House?”</p> + +<p>“Not that I am aware of.”</p> + +<p>“He is very polished in his manners; would you mind making his +acquaintance?”</p> + +<p>I followed Mr. Gryce’s example, and stared at the chimney-piece. “I +cannot answer till I understand matters a little better,” I returned at +length.</p> + +<p>“There is not much to understand. Mr. Henry Clavering, a gentleman and +a man of the world, resides at the Hoffman House. He is a stranger in +town, without being strange; drives, walks, smokes, but never visits; +looks at the ladies, but is never seen to bow to one. In short, a +person whom it is desirable to know; but whom, being a proud man, +with something of the old-world prejudice against Yankee freedom and +forwardness, I could no more approach in the way of acquaintance than I +could the Emperor of Austria.”</p> + +<p>“And you wish——”</p> + +<p>“He would make a very agreeable companion for a rising young lawyer +of good family and undoubted respectability. I have no doubt, if you +undertook to cultivate him, you would find him well worth the trouble.”</p> + +<p>“But——”</p> + +<p>“Might even desire to take him into familiar relations; to confide in +him, and——”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Gryce,” I hastily interrupted; “I can never consent to plot for any +man’s friendship for the sake of betraying him to the police.”</p> + +<p>“It is essential to your plans to make the acquaintance of Mr. +Clavering,” he dryly replied.</p> + +<p>“Oh!” I returned, a light breaking in upon me; “he has some connection +with this case, then?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce smoothed his coat-sleeve thoughtfully. “I don’t know as it +will be necessary for you to betray him. You wouldn’t object to being +introduced to him?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Nor, if you found him pleasant, to converse with him?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Not even if, in the course of conversation, you should come across +something that might serve as a clue in your efforts to save Eleanore +Leavenworth?”</p> + +<p>The no I uttered this time was less assured; the part of a spy was the +very last one I desired to play in the coming drama.</p> + +<p>“Well, then,” he went on, ignoring the doubtful tone in which my assent +had been given, “I advise you to immediately take up your quarters at +the Hoffman House.”</p> + +<p>“I doubt if that would do,” I said. “If I am not mistaken, I have +already seen this gentleman, and spoken to him.”</p> + +<p>“Where?”</p> + +<p>“Describe him first.”</p> + +<p>“Well, he is tall, finely formed, of very upright carriage, with a +handsome dark face, brown hair streaked with gray, a piercing eye, and a +smooth address. A very imposing personage, I assure you.”</p> + +<p>“I have reason to think I have seen him,” I returned; and in a few words +told him when and where.</p> + +<p>“Humph!” said he at the conclusion; “he is evidently as much interested +in you as we are in him.</p> + +<p>“How’s that? I think I see,” he added, after a moment’s thought. +“Pity you spoke to him; may have created an unfavorable impression; and +everything depends upon your meeting without any distrust.”</p> + +<p>He rose and paced the floor.</p> + +<p>“Well, we must move slowly, that is all. Give him a chance to see you in +other and better lights. Drop into the Hoffman House reading-room. +Talk with the best men you meet while there; but not too much, or too +indiscriminately. Mr. Clavering is fastidious, and will not feel honored +by the attentions of one who is hail-fellow-well-met with everybody. +Show yourself for what you are, and leave all advances to him; he’ll +make them.”</p> + +<p>“Supposing we are under a mistake, and the man I met on the corner of +Thirty-seventh Street was not Mr. Clavering?”</p> + +<p>“I should be greatly surprised, that’s all.”</p> + +<p>Not knowing what further objection to make, I remained silent.</p> + +<p>“And this head of mine would have to put on its thinking-cap,” he +pursued jovially.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Gryce,” I now said, anxious to show that all this talk about an +unknown party had not served to put my own plans from my mind, “there is +one person of whom we have not spoken.”</p> + +<p>“No?” he exclaimed softly, wheeling around until his broad back +confronted me. “And who may that be?”</p> + +<p>“Why, who but Mr.—” I could get no further. What right had I to +mention any man’s name in this connection, without possessing sufficient +evidence against him to make such mention justifiable? “I beg your +pardon,” said I; “but I think I will hold to my first impulse, and speak +no names.”</p> + +<p>“Harwell?” he ejaculated easily.</p> + +<p>The quick blush rising to my face gave an involuntary assent.</p> + +<p>“I see no reason why we shouldn’t speak of him,” he went on; “that is, +if there is anything to be gained by it.”</p> + +<p>“His testimony at the inquest was honest, you think?”</p> + +<p>“It has not been disproved.”</p> + +<p>“He is a peculiar man.”</p> + +<p>“And so am I.”</p> + +<p>I felt myself slightly nonplussed; and, conscious of appearing at a +disadvantage, lifted my hat from the table and prepared to take my +leave; but, suddenly thinking of Hannah, turned and asked if there was +any news of her.</p> + +<p>He seemed to debate with himself, hesitating so long that I began to +doubt if this man intended to confide in me, after all, when suddenly he +brought his two hands down before him and exclaimed vehemently:</p> + +<p>“The evil one himself is in this business! If the earth had opened and +swallowed up this girl, she couldn’t have more effectually disappeared.”</p> + +<p>I experienced a sinking of the heart. Eleanore had said: “Hannah can do +nothing for me.” Could it be that the girl was indeed gone, and forever?</p> + +<p>“I have innumerable agents at work, to say nothing of the general +public; and yet not so much as a whisper has come to me in regard to her +whereabouts or situation. I am only afraid we shall find her floating in +the river some fine morning, without a confession in her pocket.”</p> + +<p>“Everything hangs upon that girl’s testimony,” I remarked.</p> + +<p>He gave a short grunt. “What does Miss Leavenworth say about it?”</p> + +<p>“That the girl cannot help her.”</p> + +<p>I thought he looked a trifle surprised at this, but he covered it with a +nod and an exclamation. “She must be found for all that,” said he, “and +shall, if I have to send out Q.”</p> + +<p>“Q?”</p> + +<p>“An agent of mine who is a living interrogation point; so we call him +<i>Q</i>, which is short for query.” Then, as I turned again to go: “When the +contents of the will are made known, come to me.”</p> + +<p>The will! I had forgotten the will.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XV_WAYS_OPENING">XV. WAYS OPENING</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“It is not and it cannot come to good.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent15">Hamlet.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>I attended the funeral of Mr. Leavenworth, but did not see the +ladies before or after the ceremony. I, however, had a few moments’ +conversation with Mr. Harwell; which, without eliciting anything new, +provided me with food for abundant conjecture. For he had asked, almost +at first greeting, if I had seen the <i>Telegram</i> of the night before; +and when I responded in the affirmative, turned such a look of mingled +distress and appeal upon me, I was tempted to ask how such a frightful +insinuation against a young lady of reputation and breeding could ever +have got into the papers. It was his reply that struck me.</p> + +<p>“That the guilty party might be driven by remorse to own himself the +true culprit.”</p> + +<p>A curious remark to come from a person who had no knowledge or +suspicion of the criminal and his character; and I would have pushed +the conversation further, but the secretary, who was a man of few words, +drew off at this, and could be induced to say no more. Evidently it was +my business to cultivate Mr. Clavering, or any one else who could throw +any light upon the secret history of these girls.</p> + +<p>That evening I received notice that Mr. Veeley had arrived home, but +was in no condition to consult with me upon so painful a subject as +the murder of Mr. Leavenworth. Also a line from Eleanore, giving me her +address, but requesting me at the same time not to call unless I had +something of importance to communicate, as she was too ill to receive +visitors. The little note affected me. Ill, alone, and in a strange +home,—’twas pitiful!</p> + +<p>The next day, pursuant to the wishes of Mr. Gryce, in I stepped into the +Hoffman House, and took a seat in the reading room. I had been there but +a few moments when a gentleman entered whom I immediately recognized +as the same I had spoken to on the corner of Thirty-seventh Street +and Sixth Avenue. He must have remembered me also, for he seemed to be +slightly embarrassed at seeing me; but, recovering himself, took up a +paper and soon became to all appearance lost in its contents, though I +could feel his handsome black eye upon me, studying my features, +figure, apparel, and movements with a degree of interest which equally +astonished and disconcerted me. I felt that it would be injudicious on +my part to return his scrutiny, anxious as I was to meet his eye and +learn what emotion had so fired his curiosity in regard to a perfect +stranger; so I rose, and, crossing to an old friend of mine who sat at +a table opposite, commenced a desultory conversation, in the course of +which I took occasion to ask if he knew who the handsome stranger was. +Dick Furbish was a society man, and knew everybody.</p> + +<p>“His name is Clavering, and he comes from London. I don’t know anything +more about him, though he is to be seen everywhere except in private +houses. He has not been received into society yet; waiting for letters +of introduction, perhaps.”</p> + +<p>“A gentleman?”</p> + +<p>“Undoubtedly.”</p> + +<p>“One you speak to?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes; I talk to him, but the conversation is very one-sided.”</p> + +<p>I could not help smiling at the grimace with which Dick accompanied this +remark. “Which same goes to prove,” he went on, “that he is the real +thing.”</p> + +<p>Laughing outright this time, I left him, and in a few minutes sauntered +from the room.</p> + +<p>As I mingled again with the crowd on Broadway, I found myself wondering +immensely over this slight experience. That this unknown gentleman from +London, who went everywhere except into private houses, could be in +any way connected with the affair I had so at heart, seemed not only +improbable but absurd; and for the first time I felt tempted to doubt +the sagacity of Mr. Gryce in recommending him to my attention.</p> + +<p>The next day I repeated the experiment, but with no greater success +than before. Mr. Clavering came into the room, but, seeing me, did +not remain. I began to realize it was no easy matter to make his +acquaintance. To atone for my disappointment, I called on Mary +Leavenworth in the evening. She received me with almost a sister-like +familiarity.</p> + +<p>“Ah,” she cried, after introducing me to an elderly lady at her +side,—some connection of the family, I believe, who had come to remain +with her for a while,—“you are here to tell me Hannah is found; is it +not so?”</p> + +<p>I shook my head, sorry to disappoint her. “No,” said I; “not yet.”</p> + +<p>“But Mr. Gryce was here to-day, and he told me he hoped she would be +heard from within twenty-four hours.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Gryce here!”</p> + +<p>“Yes; came to report how matters were progressing,—not that they seemed +to have advanced very far.”</p> + +<p>“You could hardly have expected that yet. You must not be so easily +discouraged.”</p> + +<p>“But I cannot help it; every day, every hour that passes in this +uncertainty, is like a mountain weight here”; and she laid one trembling +hand upon her bosom. “I would have the whole world at work. I would +leave no stone unturned; I——”</p> + +<p>“What would you do?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I don’t know,” she cried, her whole manner suddenly changing; +“nothing, perhaps.” Then, before I could reply to this: “Have you seen +Eleanore to-day?”</p> + +<p>I answered in the negative.</p> + +<p>She did not seem satisfied, but waited till her friend left the room +before saying more. Then, with an earnest look, inquired if I knew +whether Eleanore was well.</p> + +<p>“I fear she is not,” I returned.</p> + +<p>“It is a great trial to me, Eleanore being away. Not,” she resumed, +noting, perhaps, my incredulous look, “that I would have you think I +wish to disclaim my share in bringing about the present unhappy state +of things. I am willing to acknowledge I was the first to propose a +separation. But it is none the easier to bear on that account.”</p> + +<p>“It is not as hard for you as for her,” said I.</p> + +<p>“Not as hard? Why? because she is left comparatively poor, while I am +rich—is that what you would say? Ah,” she went on, without waiting for +my answer, “would I could persuade Eleanore to share my riches with me! +Willingly would I bestow upon her the half I have received; but I fear +she could never be induced to accept so much as a dollar from me.”</p> + +<p>“Under the circumstances it would be better for her not to.”</p> + +<p>“Just what I thought; yet it would ease me of a great weight if she +would. This fortune, suddenly thrown into my lap, sits like an incubus +upon me, Mr. Raymond. When the will was read to-day which makes me +possessor of so much wealth, I could not but feel that a heavy, blinding +pall had settled upon me, spotted with blood and woven of horrors. Ah, +how different from the feelings with which I have been accustomed to +anticipate this day! For, Mr. Raymond,” she went on, with a hurried +gasp, “dreadful as it seems now, I have been reared to look forward to +this hour with pride, if not with actual longing. Money has been made +so much of in my small world. Not that I wish in this evil time of +retribution to lay blame upon any one; least of all upon my uncle; but +from the day, twelve years ago, when for the first time he took us in +his arms, and looking down upon our childish faces, exclaimed: ‘The +light-haired one pleases me best; she shall be my heiress,’ I have +been petted, cajoled, and spoiled; called little princess, and uncle’s +darling, till it is only strange I retain in this prejudiced breast any +of the impulses of generous womanhood; yes, though I was aware from the +first that whim alone had raised this distinction between myself and +cousin; a distinction which superior beauty, worth, or accomplishments +could never have drawn; Eleanore being more than my equal in all these +things.” Pausing, she choked back the sudden sob that rose in her +throat, with an effort at self-control which was at once touching and +admirable. Then, while my eyes stole to her face, murmured in a low, +appealing voice: “If I have faults, you see there is some slight excuse +for them; arrogance, vanity, and selfishness being considered in the gay +young heiress as no more than so many assertions of a laudable dignity. +Ah! ah,” she bitterly exclaimed “money alone has been the ruin of us +all!” Then, with a falling of her voice: “And now it has come to me +with its heritage of evil, and I—I would give it all for—But this is +weakness! I have no right to afflict you with my griefs. Pray forget all +I have said, Mr. Raymond, or regard my complaints as the utterances of +an unhappy girl loaded down with sorrows and oppressed by the weight of +many perplexities and terrors.”</p> + +<p>“But I do not wish to forget,” I replied. “You have spoken some good +words, manifested much noble emotion. Your possessions cannot but prove +a blessing to you if you enter upon them with such feelings as these.”</p> + +<p>But, with a quick gesture, she ejaculated: “Impossible! they cannot +prove a blessing.” Then, as if startled at her own words, bit her lip +and hastily added: “Very great wealth is never a blessing.</p> + +<p>“And now,” said she, with a total change of manner, “I wish to +address you on a subject which may strike you as ill-timed, but which, +nevertheless, I must mention, if the purpose I have at heart is ever to +be accomplished. My uncle, as you know, was engaged at the time of his +death in writing a book on Chinese customs and prejudices. It was a work +which he was anxious to see published, and naturally I desire to carry +out his wishes; but, in order to do so, I find it necessary not only +to interest myself in the matter now,—Mr. Harwell’s services being +required, and it being my wish to dismiss that gentleman as soon as +possible—but to find some one competent to supervise its completion. +Now I have heard,—I have been told,—that you were the one of all +others to do this; and though it is difficult if not improper for me to +ask so great a favor of one who but a week ago was a perfect stranger to +me, it would afford me the keenest pleasure if you would consent to look +over this manuscript and tell me what remains to be done.”</p> + +<p>The timidity with which these words were uttered proved her to be in +earnest, and I could not but wonder at the strange coincidence of this +request with my secret wishes; it having been a question with me for +some time how I was to gain free access to this house without in any way +compromising either its inmates or myself. I did not know then that Mr. +Gryce had been the one to recommend me to her favor in this respect. +But, whatever satisfaction I may have experienced, I felt myself in duty +bound to plead my incompetence for a task so entirely out of the line +of my profession, and to suggest the employment of some one better +acquainted with such matters than myself. But she would not listen to +me.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Harwell has notes and memoranda in plenty,” she exclaimed, “and +can give you all the information necessary. You will have no difficulty; +indeed, you will not.”</p> + +<p>“But cannot Mr. Harwell himself do all that is requisite? He seems to be +a clever and diligent young man.”</p> + +<p>But she shook her head. “He thinks he can; but I know uncle never +trusted him with the composition of a single sentence.”</p> + +<p>“But perhaps he will not be pleased,—Mr. Harwell, I mean—with the +intrusion of a stranger into his work.”</p> + +<p>She opened her eyes with astonishment. “That makes no difference,” she +cried. “Mr. Harwell is in my pay, and has nothing to say about it. +But he will not object. I have already consulted him, and he expresses +himself as satisfied with the arrangement.”</p> + +<p>“Very well,” said I; “then I will promise to consider the subject. I +can at any rate look over the manuscript and give you my opinion of its +condition.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, thank you,” said she, with the prettiest gesture of satisfaction. +“How kind you are, and what can I ever do to repay you? But would you +like to see Mr. Harwell himself?” and she moved towards the door; but +suddenly paused, whispering, with a short shudder of remembrance: “He is +in the library; do you mind?”</p> + +<p>Crushing down the sick qualm that arose at the mention of that spot, I +replied in the negative.</p> + +<p>“The papers are all there, and he says he can work better in his old +place than anywhere else; but if you wish, I can call him down.”</p> + +<p>But I would not listen to this, and myself led the way to the foot of +the stairs.</p> + +<p>“I have sometimes thought I would lock up that room,” she hurriedly +observed; “but something restrains me. I can no more do so than I can +leave this house; a power beyond myself forces me to confront all its +horrors. And yet I suffer continually from terror. Sometimes, in the +darkness of the night—But I will not distress you. I have already said +too much; come,” and with a sudden lift of the head she mounted the +stairs.</p> + +<p>Mr. Harwell was seated, when we entered that fatal room, in the one +chair of all others I expected to see unoccupied; and as I beheld his +meagre figure bending where such a little while before his eyes had +encountered the outstretched form of his murdered employer, I could not +but marvel over the unimaginativeness of the man who, in the face of +such memories, could not only appropriate that very spot for his own +use, but pursue his avocations there with so much calmness and evident +precision. But in another moment I discovered that the disposition of +the light in the room made that one seat the only desirable one for his +purpose; and instantly my wonder changed to admiration at this quiet +surrender of personal feeling to the requirements of the occasion.</p> + +<p>He looked up mechanically as we came in, but did not rise, his +countenance wearing the absorbed expression which bespeaks the +preoccupied mind.</p> + +<p>“He is utterly oblivious,” Mary whispered; “that is a way of his. +I doubt if he knows who or what it is that has disturbed him.” And, +advancing into the room, she passed across his line of vision, as if +to call attention to herself, and said: “I have brought Mr. Raymond +up-stairs to see you, Mr. Harwell. He has been so kind as to accede to +my wishes in regard to the completion of the manuscript now before you.”</p> + +<p>Slowly Mr. Harwell rose, wiped his pen, and put it away; manifesting, +however, a reluctance in doing so that proved this interference to be +in reality anything but agreeable to him. Observing this, I did not wait +for him to speak, but took up the pile of manuscript, arranged in one +mass on the table, saying:</p> + +<p>“This seems to be very clearly written; if you will excuse me, I will +glance over it and thus learn something of its general character.”</p> + +<p>He bowed, uttered a word or so of acquiescence, then, as Mary left the +room, awkwardly reseated himself, and took up his pen.</p> + +<p>Instantly the manuscript and all connected with it vanished from my +thoughts; and Eleanore, her situation, and the mystery surrounding +this family, returned upon me with renewed force. Looking the secretary +steadily in the face, I remarked:</p> + +<p>“I am very glad of this opportunity of seeing you a moment alone, Mr. +Harwell, if only for the purpose of saying——”</p> + +<p>“Anything in regard to the murder?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I began.</p> + +<p>“Then you must pardon me,” he respectfully but firmly replied. “It is +a disagreeable subject which I cannot bear to think of, much less +discuss.”</p> + +<p>Disconcerted and, what was more, convinced of the impossibility of +obtaining any information from this man, I abandoned the attempt; and, +taking up the manuscript once more, endeavored to master in some small +degree the nature of its contents. Succeeding beyond my hopes, I opened +a short conversation with him in regard to it, and finally, coming to +the conclusion I could accomplish what Miss Leavenworth desired, left +him and descended again to the reception room.</p> + +<p>When, an hour or so later, I withdrew from the house, it was with the +feeling that one obstacle had been removed from my path. If I failed +in what I had undertaken, it would not be from lack of opportunity of +studying the inmates of this dwelling.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XVI_THE_WILL_OF_A_MILLIONAIRE">XVI. THE WILL OF A MILLIONAIRE</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which we ascribe to Heaven.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent10">All’s Well that Ends Well.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + + +<p>The next morning’s <i>Tribune</i> contained a synopsis of Mr. Leavenworth’s +will. Its provisions were a surprise to me; for, while the bulk of his +immense estate was, according to the general understanding, bequeathed +to his niece, Mary, it appeared by a codicil, attached to his will some +five years before, that Eleanore was not entirely forgotten, she having +been made the recipient of a legacy which, if not large, was at least +sufficient to support her in comfort. After listening to the various +comments of my associates on the subject, I proceeded to the house +of Mr. Gryce, in obedience to his request to call upon him as soon as +possible after the publication of the will.</p> + +<p>“Good-morning,” he remarked as I entered, but whether addressing me or +the frowning top of the desk before which he was sitting it would be +difficult to say. “Won’t you sit?” nodding with a curious back movement +of his head towards a chair in his rear.</p> + +<p>I drew up the chair to his side. “I am curious to know,” I remarked, +“what you have to say about this will, and its probable effect upon the +matters we have in hand.”</p> + +<p>“What is your own idea in regard to it?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I think upon the whole it will make but little difference in +public opinion. Those who thought Eleanore guilty before will feel that +they possess now greater cause than ever to doubt her innocence; while +those who have hitherto hesitated to suspect her will not consider +that the comparatively small amount bequeathed her would constitute an +adequate motive for so great a crime.”</p> + +<p>“You have heard men talk; what seems to be the general opinion among +those you converse with?”</p> + +<p>“That the motive of the tragedy will be found in the partiality shown in +so singular a will, though how, they do not profess to know.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce suddenly became interested in one of the small drawers before +him.</p> + +<p>“And all this has not set you thinking?” said he.</p> + +<p>“Thinking,” returned I. “I don’t know what you mean. I am sure I have +done nothing but think for the last three days. I——”</p> + +<p>“Of course—of course,” he cried. “I didn’t mean to say anything +disagreeable. And so you have seen Mr. Clavering?”</p> + +<p>“Just seen him; no more.”</p> + +<p>“And are you going to assist Mr. Harwell in finishing Mr. Leavenworth’s +book?”</p> + +<p>“How did you learn that?”</p> + +<p>He only smiled.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said I; “Miss Leavenworth has requested me to do her that little +favor.”</p> + +<p>“She is a queenly creature!” he exclaimed in a burst of enthusiasm. +Then, with an instant return to his business-like tone: “You are going +to have opportunities, Mr. Raymond. Now there are two things I want you +to find out; first, what is the connection between these ladies and Mr. +Clavering——”</p> + +<p>“There is a connection, then?”</p> + +<p>“Undoubtedly. And secondly, what is the cause of the unfriendly feeling +which evidently exists between the cousins.”</p> + +<p>I drew back and pondered the position offered me. A spy in a fair +woman’s house! How could I reconcile it with my natural instincts as a +gentleman?</p> + +<p>“Cannot you find some one better adapted to learn these secrets for +you?” I asked at length. “The part of a spy is anything but agreeable to +my feelings, I assure you.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce’s brows fell.</p> + +<p>“I will assist Mr. Harwell in his efforts to arrange Mr. Leavenworth’s +manuscript for the press,” I said; “I will give Mr. Clavering an +opportunity to form my acquaintance; and I will listen, if Miss +Leavenworth chooses to make me her confidant in any way. But any +hearkening at doors, surprises, unworthy feints or ungentlemanly +subterfuges, I herewith disclaim as outside of my province; my task +being to find out what I can in an open way, and yours to search into +the nooks and corners of this wretched business.”</p> + +<p>“In other words, you are to play the hound, and I the mole; just so, I +know what belongs to a gentleman.”</p> + +<p>“And now,” said I, “what news of Hannah?”</p> + +<p>He shook both hands high in the air. “None.”</p> + +<p>I cannot say I was greatly surprised, that evening, when, upon +descending from an hour’s labor with Mr. Harwell, I encountered Miss +Leavenworth standing at the foot of the stairs. There had been something +in her bearing, the night before, which prepared me for another +interview this evening, though her manner of commencing it was a +surprise. “Mr. Raymond,” said she, with an air of marked embarrassment, +“I want to ask you a question. I believe you to be a good man, and I +know you will answer me conscientiously. As a brother would,” she added, +lifting her eyes for a moment to my face. “I know it will sound strange; +but remember, I have no adviser but you, and I must ask some one. Mr. +Raymond, do you think a person could do something that was very wrong, +and yet grow to be thoroughly good afterwards?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” I replied; “if he were truly sorry for his fault.”</p> + +<p>“But say it was more than a fault; say it was an actual harm; would not +the memory of that one evil hour cast a lasting shadow over one’s life?”</p> + +<p>“That depends upon the nature of the harm and its effect upon others. +If one had irreparably injured a fellow-being, it would be hard for a +person of sensitive nature to live a happy life afterwards; though the +fact of not living a happy life ought to be no reason why one should not +live a good life.”</p> + +<p>“But to live a good life would it be necessary to reveal the evil you +had done? Cannot one go on and do right without confessing to the world +a past wrong?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, unless by its confession he can in some way make reparation.”</p> + +<p>My answer seemed to trouble her. Drawing back, she stood for one moment +in a thoughtful attitude before me, her beauty shining with almost a +statuesque splendor in the glow of the porcelain-shaded lamp at her +side. Nor, though she presently roused herself, leading the way into the +drawing-room with a gesture that was allurement itself, did she recur to +this topic again; but rather seemed to strive, in the conversation that +followed, to make me forget what had already passed between us. That she +did not succeed, was owing to my intense and unfailing interest in her +cousin.</p> + +<p>As I descended the stoop, I saw Thomas, the butler, leaning over the +area gate. Immediately I was seized with an impulse to interrogate him +in regard to a matter which had more or less interested me ever since +the inquest; and that was, who was the Mr. Robbins who had called +upon Eleanore the night of the murder? But Thomas was decidedly +uncommunicative. He remembered such a person called, but could not +describe his looks any further than to say that he was not a small man.</p> + +<p>I did not press the matter.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XVII_THE_BEGINNING_OF_GREAT_SURPRISES">XVII. THE BEGINNING OF GREAT SURPRISES</h2> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="noindent">“<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Vous regardez une etoile pour deux motifs, parce qu’elle est +lumineuse et parce qu’elle est impenetrable. Vous avez aupres +de vous un plus doux rayonnement et un pas grand mystere, la femme.</span>”</p> + +<p class="right padr10"><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Les Miserables.</span></p> +</div> + + +<p>And now followed days in which I seemed to make little or no progress. +Mr. Clavering, disturbed perhaps by my presence, forsook his usual +haunts, thus depriving me of all opportunity of making his acquaintance +in any natural manner, while the evenings spent at Miss Leavenworth’s +were productive of little else than constant suspense and uneasiness.</p> + +<p>The manuscript required less revision than I supposed. But, in the +course of making such few changes as were necessary, I had ample +opportunity of studying the character of Mr. Harwell. I found him to be +neither more nor less than an excellent amanuensis. Stiff, unbending, +and sombre, but true to his duty and reliable in its performance, I +learned to respect him, and even to like him; and this, too, though I +saw the liking was not reciprocated, whatever the respect may have been. +He never spoke of Eleanore Leavenworth or, indeed, mentioned the family +or its trouble in any way; till I began to feel that all this reticence +had a cause deeper than the nature of the man, and that if he did +speak, it would be to some purpose. This suspicion, of course, kept me +restlessly eager in his presence. I could not forbear giving him sly +glances now and then, to see how he acted when he believed himself +unobserved; but he was ever the same, a passive, diligent, unexcitable +worker.</p> + +<p>This continual beating against a stone wall, for thus I regarded it, +became at last almost unendurable. Clavering shy, and the secretary +unapproachable—how was I to gain anything? The short interviews I had +with Mary did not help matters. Haughty, constrained, feverish, pettish, +grateful, appealing, everything at once, and never twice the same, I +learned to dread, even while I coveted, an interview. She appeared to be +passing through some crisis which occasioned her the keenest suffering. +I have seen her, when she thought herself alone, throw up her hands +with the gesture which we use to ward off a coming evil or shut out some +hideous vision. I have likewise beheld her standing with her proud head +abased, her nervous hands drooping, her whole form sinking and inert, as +if the pressure of a weight she could neither upbear nor cast aside +had robbed her even of the show of resistance. But this was only once. +Ordinarily she was at least stately in her trouble. Even when the +softest appeal came into her eyes she stood erect, and retained her +expression of conscious power. Even the night she met me in the hall, +with feverish cheeks and lips trembling with eagerness, only to turn and +fly again without giving utterance to what she had to say, she comported +herself with a fiery dignity that was well nigh imposing.</p> + +<p>That all this meant something, I was sure; and so I kept my patience +alive with the hope that some day she would make a revelation. Those +quivering lips would not always remain closed; the secret involving +Eleanore’s honor and happiness would be divulged by this restless being, +if by no one else. Nor was the memory of that extraordinary, if not +cruel, accusation I had heard her make enough to destroy this hope—for +hope it had grown to be—so that I found myself insensibly shortening +my time with Mr. Harwell in the library, and extending my <i>tete-a-tete</i> +visits with Mary in the reception room, till the imperturbable secretary +was forced to complain that he was often left for hours without work.</p> + +<p>But, as I say, days passed, and a second Monday evening came round +without seeing me any further advanced upon the problem I had set myself +to solve than when I first started upon it two weeks before. The subject +of the murder had not even been broached; nor was Hannah spoken of, +though I observed the papers were not allowed to languish an instant +upon the stoop; mistress and servants betraying equal interest in their +contents. All this was strange to me. It was as if you saw a group of +human beings eating, drinking, and sleeping upon the sides of a volcano +hot with a late eruption and trembling with the birth of a new one. I +longed to break this silence as we shiver glass: by shouting the name +of Eleanore through those gilded rooms and satin-draped vestibules. But +this Monday evening I was in a calmer mood. I was determined to expect +nothing from my visits to Mary Leavenworth’s house; and entered it upon +the eve in question with an equanimity such as I had not experienced +since the first day I passed under its unhappy portals.</p> + +<p>But when, upon nearing the reception room, I saw Mary pacing the floor +with the air of one who is restlessly awaiting something or somebody, +I took a sudden resolution, and, advancing towards her, said: “Do I see +you alone, Miss Leavenworth?”</p> + +<p>She paused in her hurried action, blushed and bowed, but, contrary to +her usual custom, did not bid me enter.</p> + +<p>“Will it be too great an intrusion on my part, if I venture to come in?” +I asked.</p> + +<p>Her glance flashed uneasily to the clock, and she seemed about to excuse +herself, but suddenly yielded, and, drawing up a chair before the fire, +motioned me towards it. Though she endeavored to appear calm, I vaguely +felt I had chanced upon her in one of her most agitated moods, and that +I had only to broach the subject I had in mind to behold her haughtiness +disappear before me like melting snow. I also felt that I had but few +moments in which to do it. I accordingly plunged immediately into the +subject.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth,” said I, “in obtruding upon you to-night, I have a +purpose other than that of giving myself a pleasure. I have come to make +an appeal.”</p> + +<p>Instantly I saw that in some way I had started wrong. “An appeal to make +to me?” she asked, breathing coldness from every feature of her face.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I went on, with passionate recklessness. “Balked in every other +endeavor to learn the truth, I have come to you, whom I believe to be +noble at the core, for that help which seems likely to fail us in every +other direction: for the word which, if it does not absolutely save your +cousin, will at least put us upon the track of what will.”</p> + +<p>“I do not understand what you mean,” she protested, slightly shrinking.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth,” I pursued, “it is needless for me to tell you in +what position your cousin stands. You, who remember both the form and +drift of the questions put to her at the inquest, comprehend it all +without any explanation from me. But what you may not know is this, that +unless she is speedily relieved from the suspicion which, justly or not, +has attached itself to her name, the consequences which such suspicion +entails must fall upon her, and——”</p> + +<p>“Good God!” she cried; “you do not mean she will be——”</p> + +<p>“Subject to arrest? Yes.”</p> + +<p>It was a blow. Shame, horror, and anguish were in every line of her +white face. “And all because of that key!” she murmured.</p> + +<p>“Key? How did you know anything about a key?”</p> + +<p>“Why,” she cried, flushing painfully; “I cannot say; didn’t you tell +me?”</p> + +<p>“No,” I returned.</p> + +<p>“The papers, then?”</p> + +<p>“The papers have never mentioned it.”</p> + +<p>She grew more and more agitated. “I thought every one knew. No, I did +not, either,” she avowed, in a sudden burst of shame and penitence. “I +knew it was a secret; but—oh, Mr. Raymond, it was Eleanore herself who +told me.”</p> + +<p>“Eleanore?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that last evening she was here; we were together in the +drawing-room.”</p> + +<p>“What did she tell?”</p> + +<p>“That the key to the library had been seen in her possession.”</p> + +<p>I could scarcely conceal my incredulity. Eleanore, conscious of the +suspicion with which her cousin regarded her, inform that cousin of a +fact calculated to add weight to that suspicion? I could not believe +this.</p> + +<p>“But you knew it?” Mary went on. “I have revealed nothing I ought to +have kept secret?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said I; “and, Miss Leavenworth, it is this thing which makes +your cousin’s position absolutely dangerous. It is a fact that, +left unexplained, must ever link her name with infamy; a bit of +circumstantial evidence no sophistry can smother, and no denial +obliterate. Only her hitherto spotless reputation, and the efforts of +one who, notwithstanding appearances, believes in her innocence, keeps +her so long from the clutch of the officers of justice. That key, and +the silence preserved by her in regard to it, is sinking her slowly into +a pit from which the utmost endeavors of her best friends will soon be +inadequate to extricate her.”</p> + +<p>“And you tell me this——”</p> + +<p>“That you may have pity on the poor girl, who will not have pity on +herself, and by the explanation of a few circumstances, which cannot be +mysteries to you, assist in bringing her from under the dreadful shadow +that threatens to overwhelm her.”</p> + +<p>“And would you insinuate, sir,” she cried, turning upon me with a look +of great anger, “that I know any more than you do of this matter? that +I possess any knowledge which I have not already made public concerning +the dreadful tragedy which has transformed our home into a desert, our +existence into a lasting horror? Has the blight of suspicion fallen upon +me, too; and have you come to accuse me in my own house——”</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth,” I entreated; “calm yourself. I accuse you of +nothing. I only desire you to enlighten me as to your cousin’s probable +motive for this criminating silence. You cannot be ignorant of it. You +are her cousin, almost her sister, have been at all events her daily +companion for years, and must know for whom or for what she seals her +lips, and conceals facts which, if known, would direct suspicion to the +real criminal—that is, if you really believe what you have hitherto +stated, that your cousin is an innocent woman.”</p> + +<p>She not making any answer to this, I rose and confronted her. “Miss +Leavenworth, do you believe your cousin guiltless of this crime, or +not?”</p> + +<p>“Guiltless? Eleanore? Oh! my God; if all the world were only as innocent +as she!”</p> + +<p>“Then,” said I, “you must likewise believe that if she refrains from +speaking in regard to matters which to ordinary observers ought to be +explained, she does it only from motives of kindness towards one less +guiltless than herself.”</p> + +<p>“What? No, no; I do not say that. What made you think of any such +explanation?”</p> + +<p>“The action itself. With one of Eleanore’s character, such conduct +as hers admits of no other construction. Either she is mad, or she is +shielding another at the expense of herself.”</p> + +<p>Mary’s lip, which had trembled, slowly steadied itself. “And whom +have you settled upon, as the person for whom Eleanore thus sacrifices +herself?”</p> + +<p>“Ah,” said I, “there is where I seek assistance from you. With your +knowledge of her history——”</p> + +<p>But Mary Leavenworth, sinking haughtily back into her chair, stopped +me with a quiet gesture. “I beg your pardon,” said she; “but you make a +mistake. I know little or nothing of Eleanore’s personal feelings. The +mystery must be solved by some one besides me.”</p> + +<p>I changed my tactics.</p> + +<p>“When Eleanore confessed to you that the missing key had been seen in +her possession, did she likewise inform you where she obtained it, and +for what reason she was hiding it?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Merely told you the fact, without any explanation?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Was not that a strange piece of gratuitous information for her to +give one who, but a few hours before, had accused her to the face of +committing a deadly crime?”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice suddenly sinking.</p> + +<p>“You will not deny that you were once, not only ready to believe her +guilty, but that you actually charged her with having perpetrated this +crime.”</p> + +<p>“Explain yourself!” she cried.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth, do you not remember what you said in that room +up-stairs, when you were alone with your cousin on the morning of the +inquest, just before Mr. Gryce and myself entered your presence?”</p> + +<p>Her eyes did not fall, but they filled with sudden terror.</p> + +<p>“You heard?” she whispered.</p> + +<p>“I could not help it. I was just outside the door, and——”</p> + +<p>“What did you hear?”</p> + +<p>I told her.</p> + +<p>“And Mr. Gryce?”</p> + +<p>“He was at my side.”</p> + +<p>It seemed as if her eyes would devour my face. “Yet nothing was said +when you came in?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“You, however, have never forgotten it?”</p> + +<p>“How could we, Miss Leavenworth?”</p> + +<p>Her head fell forward in her hands, and for one wild moment she seemed +lost in despair. Then she roused, and desperately exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“And that is why you come here to-night. With that sentence written upon +your heart, you invade my presence, torture me with questions——”</p> + +<p>“Pardon me,” I broke in; “are my questions such as you, with reasonable +regard for the honor of one with whom you are accustomed to associate, +should hesitate to answer? Do I derogate from my manhood in asking you +how and why you came to make an accusation of so grave a nature, at a +time when all the circumstances of the case were freshly before you, +only to insist fully as strongly upon your cousin’s innocence when +you found there was even more cause for your imputation than you had +supposed?”</p> + +<p>She did not seem to hear me. “Oh, my cruel fate!” she murmured. “Oh, my +cruel fate!”</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth,” said I, rising, and taking my stand before her; +“although there is a temporary estrangement between you and your cousin, +you cannot wish to seem her enemy. Speak, then; let me at least know the +name of him for whom she thus immolates herself. A hint from you——”</p> + +<p>But rising, with a strange look, to her feet, she interrupted me with a +stern remark: “If you do not know, I cannot inform you; do not ask me, +Mr. Raymond.” And she glanced at the clock for the second time.</p> + +<p>I took another turn.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth, you once asked me if a person who had committed a +wrong ought necessarily to confess it; and I replied no, unless by the +confession reparation could be made. Do you remember?”</p> + +<p>Her lips moved, but no words issued from them.</p> + +<p>“I begin to think,” I solemnly proceeded, following the lead of her +emotion, “that confession is the only way out of this difficulty: that +only by the words you can utter Eleanore can be saved from the doom that +awaits her. Will you not then show yourself a true woman by responding +to my earnest entreaties?”</p> + +<p>I seemed to have touched the right chord; for she trembled, and a look +of wistfulness filled her eyes. “Oh, if I could!” she murmured.</p> + +<p>“And why can you not? You will never be happy till you do. Eleanore +persists in silence; but that is no reason why you should emulate her +example. You only make her position more doubtful by it.”</p> + +<p>“I know it; but I cannot help myself. Fate has too strong a hold upon +me; I cannot break away.”</p> + +<p>“That is not true. Any one can escape from bonds imaginary as yours.”</p> + +<p>“No, no,” she protested; “you do not understand.”</p> + +<p>“I understand this: that the path of rectitude is a straight one, and +that he who steps into devious byways is going astray.”</p> + +<p>A flicker of light, pathetic beyond description, flashed for a moment +across her face; her throat rose as with one wild sob; her lips opened; +she seemed yielding, when—A sharp ring at the front door-bell!</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she cried, sharply turning, “tell him I cannot see him; tell +him——”</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth,” said I, taking her by both hands, “never mind the +door; never mind anything but this. I have asked you a question which +involves the mystery of this whole affair; answer me, then, for your +soul’s sake; tell me, what the unhappy circumstances were which could +induce you—”</p> + +<p>But she tore her hands from mine. “The door!” she cried; “it will open, +and—”</p> + +<p>Stepping into the hall, I met Thomas coming up the basement stairs. “Go +back,” said I; “I will call you when you are wanted.”</p> + +<p>With a bow he disappeared.</p> + +<p>“You expect me to answer,” she exclaimed, when I re-entered, “now, in a +moment? I cannot.”</p> + +<p>“But——”</p> + +<p>“Impossible!” fastening her gaze upon the front door.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth!”</p> + +<p>She shuddered.</p> + +<p>“I fear the time will never come, if you do not speak now.”</p> + +<p>“Impossible,” she reiterated.</p> + +<p>Another twang at the bell.</p> + +<p>“You hear!” said she.</p> + +<p>I went into the hall and called Thomas. “You may open the door now,” +said I, and moved to return to her side.</p> + +<p>But, with a gesture of command, she pointed up-stairs. “Leave me!” and +her glance passed on to Thomas, who stopped where he was.</p> + +<p>“I will see you again before I go,” said I, and hastened up-stairs.</p> + +<p>Thomas opened the door. “Is Miss Leavenworth in?” I heard a rich, +tremulous voice inquire.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” came in the butler’s most respectful and measured accents, +and, leaning over the banisters I beheld, to my amazement, the form of +Mr. Clavering enter the front hall and move towards the reception room.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XVIII_ON_THE_STAIRS">XVIII. ON THE STAIRS</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“You cannot <i>say</i> I did it.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent10">Macbeth.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Excited, tremulous, filled with wonder at this unlooked-for event, I +paused for a moment to collect my scattered senses, when the sound of +a low, monotonous voice breaking upon my ear from the direction of the +library, I approached and found Mr. Harwell reading aloud from his late +employer’s manuscript. It would be difficult for me to describe the +effect which this simple discovery made upon me at this time. There, +in that room of late death, withdrawn from the turmoil of the world, a +hermit in his skeleton-lined cell, this man employed himself in reading +and rereading, with passive interest, the words of the dead, while above +and below, human beings agonized in doubt and shame. Listening, I heard +these words:</p> + +<p>“By these means their native rulers will not only lose their jealous +terror of our institutions, but acquire an actual curiosity in regard to +them.”</p> + +<p>Opening the door I went in.</p> + +<p>“Ah! you are late, sir,” was the greeting with which he rose and brought +forward a chair.</p> + +<p>My reply was probably inaudible, for he added, as he passed to his own +seat:</p> + +<p>“I am afraid you are not well.”</p> + +<p>I roused myself.</p> + +<p>“I am not ill.” And, pulling the papers towards me, I began looking them +over. But the words danced before my eyes, and I was obliged to give up +all attempt at work for that night.</p> + +<p>“I fear I am unable to assist you this evening, Mr. Harwell. The fact +is, I find it difficult to give proper attention to this business while +the man who by a dastardly assassination has made it necessary goes +unpunished.”</p> + +<p>The secretary in his turn pushed the papers aside, as if moved by a +sudden distaste of them, but gave me no answer.</p> + +<p>“You told me, when you first came to me with news of this fearful +tragedy, that it was a mystery; but it is one which must be solved, +Mr. Harwell; it is wearing out the lives of too many whom we love and +respect.”</p> + +<p>The secretary gave me a look. “Miss Eleanore?” he murmured.</p> + +<p>“And Miss Mary,” I went on; “myself, you, and many others.”</p> + +<p>“You have manifested much interest in the matter from the +beginning,”—he said, methodically dipping his pen into the ink.</p> + +<p>I stared at him in amazement.</p> + +<p>“And you,” said I; “do you take no interest in that which involves not +only the safety, but the happiness and honor, of the family in which you +have dwelt so long?”</p> + +<p>He looked at me with increased coldness. “I have no wish to discuss +this subject. I believe I have before prayed you to spare me its +introduction.” And he arose.</p> + +<p>“But I cannot consider your wishes in this regard,” I persisted. “If you +know any facts, connected with this affair, which have not yet been made +public, it is manifestly your duty to state them. The position which +Miss Eleanore occupies at this time is one which should arouse the sense +of justice in every true breast; and if you——”</p> + +<p>“If I knew anything which would serve to release her from her unhappy +position, Mr. Raymond, I should have spoken long ago.”</p> + +<p>I bit my lip, weary of these continual bafflings, and rose also.</p> + +<p>“If you have nothing more to say,” he went on, “and feel utterly +disinclined to work, why, I should be glad to excuse myself, as I have +an engagement out.”</p> + +<p>“Do not let me keep you,” I said, bitterly. “I can take care of myself.”</p> + +<p>He turned upon me with a short stare, as if this display of feeling +was well nigh incomprehensible to him; and then, with a quiet, almost +compassionate bow left the room. I heard him go up-stairs, felt the +jar when his room door closed, and sat down to enjoy my solitude. But +solitude in that room was unbearable. By the time Mr. Harwell again +descended, I felt I could remain no longer, and, stepping into the hall, +told him that if he had no objection I would accompany him for a short +stroll.</p> + +<p>He bowed a stiff assent, and hastened before me down the stairs. By the +time I had closed the library door, he was half-way to the foot, and I +was just remarking to myself upon the unpliability of his figure and the +awkwardness of his carriage, as seen from my present standpoint, when +suddenly I saw him stop, clutch the banister at his side, and hang there +with a startled, deathly expression upon his half-turned countenance, +which fixed me for an instant where I was in breathless astonishment, +and then caused me to rush down to his side, catch him by the arm, and +cry:</p> + +<p>“What is it? what is the matter?”</p> + + +<div class="figcenter illowp70" id="i-164"> +<img class="w100" src="images/i-164.jpg" alt="" /> +<div class="caption p15bot">“He pushed me upwards. ‘Go back!’ he whispered, . . . ‘Go back!’”</div> +</div> + + +<p>But, thrusting out his hand, he pushed me upwards. “Go back!” he +whispered, in a voice shaking with intensest emotion, “go back.” And +catching me by the arm, he literally pulled me up the stairs. Arrived +at the top, he loosened his grasp, and leaning, quivering from head to +foot, over the banisters, glared below.</p> + +<p>“Who is that?” he cried. “Who is that man? What is his name?”</p> + +<p>Startled in my turn, I bent beside him, and saw Henry Clavering come out +of the reception room and cross the hall.</p> + +<p>“That is Mr. Clavering,” I whispered, with all the self-possession I +could muster; “do you know him?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Harwell fell back against the opposite wall. “Clavering, Clavering,” +he murmured with quaking lips; then, suddenly bounding forward, clutched +the railing before him, and fixing me with his eyes, from which all the +stoic calmness had gone down forever in flame and frenzy, gurgled into +my ear: “You want to know who the assassin of Mr. Leavenworth is, do +you? Look there, then: that is the man, Clavering!” And with a leap, he +bounded from my side, and, swaying like a drunken man, disappeared from +my gaze in the hall above.</p> + +<p>My first impulse was to follow him. Rushing up-stairs, I knocked at the +door of his room, but no response came to my summons. I then called +his name in the hall, but without avail; he was determined not to show +himself. Resolved that he should not thus escape me, I returned to the +library, and wrote him a short note, in which I asked for an explanation +of his tremendous accusation, saying I would be in my rooms the next +evening at six, when I should expect to see him. This done I descended +to rejoin Mary.</p> + +<p>But the evening was destined to be full of disappointments. She had +retired to her room while I was in the library, and I lost the interview +from which I expected so much. “The woman is slippery as an eel,” I +inwardly commented, pacing the hall in my chagrin. “Wrapped in mystery, +she expects me to feel for her the respect due to one of frank and open +nature.”</p> + +<p>I was about to leave the house, when I saw Thomas descending the stairs +with a letter in his hand.</p> + +<p>“Miss Leavenworth’s compliments, sir, and she is too fatigued to remain +below this evening.”</p> + +<p>I moved aside to read the note he handed me, feeling a little +conscience-stricken as I traced the hurried, trembling handwriting +through the following words:</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="p15">“You ask more than I can give. Matters must be received as they are +without explanation from me. It is the grief of my life to deny you; +but I have no choice. God forgive us all and keep us from despair.</p> + +<p class="right p15bot padr2">“M.”</p> +</div> + + +<p>And below:</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="p15 p15bot">“As we cannot meet now without embarrassment, it is better we should +bear our burdens in silence and apart. Mr. Harwell will visit you. +Farewell!”</p> +</div> + + +<p>As I was crossing Thirty-second Street, I heard a quick footstep behind +me, and turning, saw Thomas at my side. “Excuse me, sir,” said he, “but +I have something a little particular to say to you. When you asked me +the other night what sort of a person the gentleman was who called +on Miss Eleanore the evening of the murder, I didn’t answer you as I +should. The fact is, the detectives had been talking to me about that +very thing, and I felt shy; but, sir, I know you are a friend of the +family, and I want to tell you now that that same gentleman, whoever +he was,—Mr. Robbins, he called himself then,—was at the house again +to-night, sir, and the name he gave me this time to carry to Miss +Leavenworth was Clavering. Yes, sir,” he went on, seeing me start; “and, +as I told Molly, he acts queer for a stranger. When he came the other +night, he hesitated a long time before asking for Miss Eleanore, and +when I wanted his name, took out a card and wrote on it the one I told +you of, sir, with a look on his face a little peculiar for a caller; +besides——”</p> + +<p>“Well?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Raymond,” the butler went on, in a low, excited voice, edging up +very closely to me in the darkness. “There is something I have never +told any living being but Molly, sir, which may be of use to those as +wishes to find out who committed this murder.”</p> + +<p>“A fact or a suspicion?” I inquired.</p> + +<p>“A fact, sir; which I beg your pardon for troubling you with at this +time; but Molly will give me no rest unless I speak of it to you or Mr. +Gryce; her feelings being so worked up on Hannah’s account, whom we all +know is innocent, though folks do dare to say as how she must be guilty +just because she is not to be found the minute they want her.”</p> + +<p>“But this fact?” I urged.</p> + +<p>“Well, the fact is this. You see—I would tell Mr. Gryce,” he resumed, +unconscious of my anxiety, “but I have my fears of detectives, sir; they +catch you up so quick at times, and seem to think you know so much more +than you really do.”</p> + +<p>“But this fact,” I again broke in.</p> + +<p>“O yes, sir; the fact is, that that night, the one of the murder you +know, I saw Mr. Clavering, Robbins, or whatever his name is, enter the +house, but neither I nor any one else saw him go out of it; nor do I +know that he <i>did</i>.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, what I mean is this. When I came down from Miss Eleanore and +told Mr. Robbins, as he called himself at that time, that my mistress +was ill and unable to see him (the word she gave me, sir, to deliver) +Mr. Robbins, instead of bowing and leaving the house like a gentleman, +stepped into the reception room and sat down. He may have felt sick, he +looked pale enough; at any rate, he asked me for a glass of water. +Not knowing any reason then for suspicionating any one’s actions, I +immediately went down to the kitchen for it, leaving him there in the +reception room alone. But before I could get it, I heard the front door +close. ‘What’s that?’ said Molly, who was helping me, sir. ‘I don’t +know,’ said I, ‘unless it’s the gentleman has got tired of waiting and +gone.’ ‘If he’s gone, he won’t want the water,’ she said. So down I set +the pitcher, and up-stairs I come; and sure enough he was gone, or so +I thought then. But who knows, sir, if he was not in that room or the +drawing-room, which was dark that night, all the time I was a-shutting +up of the house?”</p> + +<p>I made no reply to this; I was more startled than I cared to reveal.</p> + +<p>“You see, sir, I wouldn’t speak of such a thing about any person that +comes to see the young ladies; but we all know some one who was in the +house that night murdered my master, and as it was not Hannah——”</p> + +<p>“You say that Miss Eleanore refused to see him,” I interrupted, in the +hope that the simple suggestion would be enough to elicitate further +details of his interview with Eleanore.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir. When she first looked at the card, she showed a little +hesitation; but in a moment she grew very flushed in the face, and bade +me say what I told you. I should never have thought of it again if I had +not seen him come blazoning and bold into the house this evening, with +a new name on his tongue. Indeed, and I do not like to think any evil of +him now; but Molly would have it I should speak to you, sir, and ease my +mind,—and that is all, sir.”</p> + +<p>When I arrived home that night, I entered into my memorandum-book a +new list of suspicious circumstances, but this time they were under the +caption “C” instead of “E.”</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIX_IN_MY_OFFICE">XIX. IN MY OFFICE</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Something between an hindrance and a help.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent18">Wordsworth.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>The next day as, with nerves unstrung and an exhausted brain, I entered +my office, I was greeted by the announcement:</p> + +<p>“A gentleman, sir, in your private room—been waiting some time, very +impatient.”</p> + +<p>Weary, in no mood to hold consultation with clients new or old, I +advanced with anything but an eager step towards my room, when, upon +opening the door, I saw—Mr. Clavering.</p> + +<p>Too much astounded for the moment to speak, I bowed to him silently, +whereupon he approached me with the air and dignity of a highly bred +gentleman, and presented his card, on which I saw written, in free and +handsome characters, his whole name, Henry Ritchie Clavering. After this +introduction of himself, he apologized for making so unceremonious +a call, saying, in excuse, that he was a stranger in town; that his +business was one of great urgency; that he had casually heard honorable +mention of me as a lawyer and a gentleman, and so had ventured to seek +this interview on behalf of a friend who was so unfortunately situated +as to require the opinion and advice of a lawyer upon a question which +not only involved an extraordinary state of facts, but was of a nature +peculiarly embarrassing to him, owing to his ignorance of American laws, +and the legal bearing of these facts upon the same.</p> + +<p>Having thus secured my attention, and awakened my curiosity, he asked me +if I would permit him to relate his story. Recovering in a measure from +my astonishment, and subduing the extreme repulsion, almost horror, +I felt for the man, I signified my assent; at which he drew from his +pocket a memorandum-book from which he read in substance as follows:</p> + +<p>“An Englishman travelling in this country meets, at a fashionable +watering-place, an American girl, with whom he falls deeply in love, and +whom, after a few days, he desires to marry. Knowing his position to be +good, his fortune ample, and his intentions highly honorable, he offers +her his hand, and is accepted. But a decided opposition arising in the +family to the match, he is compelled to disguise his sentiments, though +the engagement remained unbroken. While matters were in this uncertain +condition, he received advices from England demanding his instant +return, and, alarmed at the prospect of a protracted absence from the +object of his affections, he writes to the lady, informing her of +the circumstances, and proposing a secret marriage. She consents with +stipulations; the first of which is, that he should leave her instantly +upon the conclusion of the ceremony, and the second, that he should +intrust the public declaration of the marriage to her. It was not +precisely what he wished, but anything which served to make her his +own was acceptable at such a crisis. He readily enters into the plans +proposed. Meeting the lady at a parsonage, some twenty miles from the +watering-place at which she was staying, he stands up with her before +a Methodist preacher, and the ceremony of marriage is performed. There +were two witnesses, a hired man of the minister, called in for the +purpose, and a lady friend who came with the bride; but there was no +license, and the bride had not completed her twenty-first year. Now, was +that marriage legal? If the lady, wedded in good faith upon that day by +my friend, chooses to deny that she is his lawful wife, can he hold +her to a compact entered into in so informal a manner? In short, Mr. +Raymond, is my friend the lawful husband of that girl or not?”</p> + +<p>While listening to this story, I found myself yielding to feelings +greatly in contrast to those with which I greeted the relator but a +moment before. I became so interested in his “friend’s” case as to +quite forget, for the time being, that I had ever seen or heard of Henry +Clavering; and after learning that the marriage ceremony took place in +the State of New York, I replied to him, as near as I can remember, in +the following words:</p> + +<p>“In this State, and I believe it to be American law, marriage is a +civil contract, requiring neither license, priest, ceremony, nor +certificate—and in some cases witnesses are not even necessary to give +it validity. Of old, the modes of getting a wife were the same as those +of acquiring any other species of property, and they are not materially +changed at the present time. It is enough that the man and woman say to +each other, ‘From this time we are married,’ or, ‘You are now my wife,’ +or, ‘my husband,’ as the case may be. The mutual consent is all that is +necessary. In fact, you may contract marriage as you contract to lend a +sum of money, or to buy the merest trifle.”</p> + +<p>“Then your opinion is——”</p> + +<p>“That upon your statement, your friend is the lawful husband of the lady +in question; presuming, of course, that no legal disabilities of either +party existed to prevent such a union. As to the young lady’s age, I +will merely say that any fourteen-year-old girl can be a party to a +marriage contract.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Clavering bowed, his countenance assuming a look of great +satisfaction. “I am very glad to hear this,” said he; “my friend’s +happiness is entirely involved in the establishment of his marriage.”</p> + +<p>He appeared so relieved, my curiosity was yet further aroused. I +therefore said: “I have given you my opinion as to the legality of this +marriage; but it may be quite another thing to prove it, should the same +be contested.”</p> + +<p>He started, cast me an inquiring look, and murmured:</p> + +<p>“True.”</p> + +<p>“Allow me to ask you a few questions. Was the lady married under her own +name?”</p> + +<p>“She was.”</p> + +<p>“The gentleman?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Did the lady receive a certificate?”</p> + +<p>“She did.”</p> + +<p>“Properly signed by the minister and witnesses?”</p> + +<p>He bowed his head in assent.</p> + +<p>“Did she keep this?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot say; but I presume she did.”</p> + +<p>“The witnesses were——”</p> + +<p>“A hired man of the minister——”</p> + +<p>“Who can be found?”</p> + +<p>“Who cannot be found.”</p> + +<p>“Dead or disappeared?”</p> + +<p>“The minister is dead, the man has disappeared.”</p> + +<p>“The minister dead!”</p> + +<p>“Three months since.”</p> + +<p>“And the marriage took place when?”</p> + +<p>“Last July.”</p> + +<p>“The other witness, the lady friend, where is she?”</p> + +<p>“She can be found; but her action is not to be depended upon.”</p> + +<p>“Has the gentleman himself no proofs of this marriage?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Clavering shook his head. “He cannot even prove he was in the town +where it took place on that particular day.”</p> + +<p>“The marriage certificate was, however, filed with the clerk of the +town?” said I.</p> + +<p>“It was not, sir.”</p> + +<p>“How was that?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot say. I only know that my friend has made inquiry, and that no +such paper is to be found.”</p> + +<p>I leaned slowly back and looked at him. “I do not wonder your friend is +concerned in regard to his position, if what you hint is true, and the +lady seems disposed to deny that any such ceremony ever took place. +Still, if he wishes to go to law, the Court may decide in his favor, +though I doubt it. His sworn word is all he would have to go upon, and +if she contradicts his testimony under oath, why the sympathy of a jury +is, as a rule, with the woman.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Clavering rose, looked at me with some earnestness, and finally +asked, in a tone which, though somewhat changed, lacked nothing of its +former suavity, if I would be kind enough to give him in writing that +portion of my opinion which directly bore upon the legality of the +marriage; that such a paper would go far towards satisfying his friend +that his case had been properly presented; as he was aware that no +respectable lawyer would put his name to a legal opinion without first +having carefully arrived at his conclusions by a thorough examination of +the law bearing upon the facts submitted.</p> + +<p>This request seeming so reasonable, I unhesitatingly complied with it, +and handed him the opinion. He took it, and, after reading it carefully +over, deliberately copied it into his memorandum-book. This done, he +turned towards me, a strong, though hitherto subdued, emotion showing +itself in his countenance.</p> + +<p>“Now, sir,” said he, rising upon me to the full height of his majestic +figure, “I have but one more request to make; and that is, that you will +receive back this opinion into your own possession, and in the day you +think to lead a beautiful woman to the altar, pause and ask yourself: +‘Am I sure that the hand I clasp with such impassioned fervor is free? +Have I any certainty for knowing that it has not already been given +away, like that of the lady whom, in this opinion of mine, I have +declared to be a wedded wife according to the laws of my country?’”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Clavering!”</p> + +<p>But he, with an urbane bow, laid his hand upon the knob of the door. “I +thank you for your courtesy, Mr. Raymond, and I bid you good-day. I hope +you will have no need of consulting that paper before I see you again.” +And with another bow, he passed out.</p> + +<p>It was the most vital shock I had yet experienced; and for a moment +I stood paralyzed. Me! me! Why should he mix me up with the affair +unless—but I would not contemplate that possibility. Eleanore married, +and to this man? No, no; anything but that! And yet I found myself +continually turning the supposition over in my mind until, to escape +the torment of my own conjectures, I seized my hat, and rushed into +the street in the hope of finding him again and extorting from him an +explanation of his mysterious conduct. But by the time I reached the +sidewalk, he was nowhere to be seen. A thousand busy men, with their +various cares and purposes, had pushed themselves between us, and I was +obliged to return to my office with my doubts unsolved.</p> + +<p>I think I never experienced a longer day; but it passed, and at five +o’clock I had the satisfaction of inquiring for Mr. Clavering at the +Hoffman House. Judge of my surprise when I learned that his visit to +my office was his last action before taking passage upon the steamer +leaving that day for Liverpool; that he was now on the high seas, and +all chance of another interview with him was at an end. I could scarcely +believe the fact at first; but after a talk with the cabman who +had driven him off to my office and thence to the steamer, I became +convinced. My first feeling was one of shame. I had been brought face to +face with the accused man, had received an intimation from him that he +was not expecting to see me again for some time, and had weakly gone on +attending to my own affairs and allowed him to escape, like the simple +tyro that I was. My next, the necessity of notifying Mr. Gryce of this +man’s departure. But it was now six o’clock, the hour set apart for my +interview with Mr. Harwell. I could not afford to miss that, so merely +stopping to despatch a line to Mr. Gryce, in which I promised to visit +him that evening, I turned my steps towards home. I found Mr. Harwell +there before me.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XX_TRUEMAN_TRUEMAN_TRUEMAN">XX. “TRUEMAN! TRUEMAN! TRUEMAN!”</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent6">“Often do the spirits</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of great events stride on before the events,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And in to-day already walks to-morrow.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent17">Coleridge.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + + +<p>Instantly a great dread seized me. What revelations might not this man +be going to make! But I subdued the feeling; and, greeting him with what +cordiality I could, settled myself to listen to his explanations.</p> + +<p>But Trueman Harwell had no explanations to give, or so it seemed; on +the contrary, he had come to apologize for the very violent words he had +used the evening before; words which, whatever their effect upon me, he +now felt bound to declare had been used without sufficient basis in fact +to make their utterance of the least importance.</p> + +<p>“But you must have thought you had grounds for so tremendous an +accusation, or your act was that of a madman.”</p> + +<p>His brow wrinkled heavily, and his eyes assumed a very gloomy +expression. “It does not follow,” he returned. “Under the pressure of +surprise, I have known men utter convictions no better founded than mine +without running the risk of being called mad.”</p> + +<p>“Surprise? Mr. Clavering’s face or form must, then, have been known to +you. The mere fact of seeing a strange gentleman in the hall would have +been insufficient to cause you astonishment, Mr. Harwell.”</p> + +<p>He uneasily fingered the back of the chair before which he stood, but +made no reply.</p> + +<p>“Sit down,” I again urged, this time with a touch of command in my +voice. “This is a serious matter, and I intend to deal with it as it +deserves. You once said that if you knew anything which might serve +to exonerate Eleanore Leavenworth from the suspicion under which she +stands, you would be ready to impart it.”</p> + +<p>“Pardon me. I said that if I had ever known anything calculated to +release her from her unhappy position, I would have spoken,” he coldly +corrected.</p> + +<p>“Do not quibble. You know, and I know, that you are keeping something +back; and I ask you, in her behalf, and in the cause of justice, to tell +me what it is.”</p> + +<p>“You are mistaken,” was his dogged reply. “I have reasons, perhaps, for +certain conclusions I may have drawn; but my conscience will not allow +me in cold blood to give utterance to suspicions which may not only +damage the reputation of an honest man, but place me in the unpleasant +position of an accuser without substantial foundation for my +accusations.”</p> + +<p>“You occupy that position already,” I retorted, with equal coldness. +“Nothing can make me forget that in my presence you have denounced Henry +Clavering as the murderer of Mr. Leavenworth. You had better explain +yourself, Mr. Harwell.”</p> + +<p>He gave me a short look, but moved around and took the chair. “You have +me at a disadvantage,” he said, in a lighter tone. “If you choose to +profit by your position, and press me to disclose the little I know, I +can only regret the necessity under which I lie, and speak.”</p> + +<p>“Then you are deterred by conscientious scruples alone?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and by the meagreness of the facts at my command.”</p> + +<p>“I will judge of the facts when I have heard them.”</p> + +<p>He raised his eyes to mine, and I was astonished to observe a strange +eagerness in their depths; evidently his convictions were stronger +than his scruples. “Mr. Raymond,” he began, “you are a lawyer, and +undoubtedly a practical man; but you may know what it is to scent danger +before you see it, to feel influences working in the air over and +about you, and yet be in ignorance of what it is that affects you so +powerfully, till chance reveals that an enemy has been at your side, or +a friend passed your window, or the shadow of death crossed your book as +you read, or mingled with your breath as you slept?”</p> + +<p>I shook my head, fascinated by the intensity of his gaze into some sort +of response.</p> + +<p>“Then you cannot understand me, or what I have suffered these last three +weeks.” And he drew back with an icy reserve that seemed to promise but +little to my now thoroughly awakened curiosity.</p> + +<p>“I beg your pardon,” I hastened to say; “but the fact of my never having +experienced such sensations does not hinder me from comprehending the +emotions of others more affected by spiritual influences than myself.”</p> + +<p>He drew himself slowly forward. “Then you will not ridicule me if I say +that upon the eve of Mr. Leavenworth’s murder I experienced in a dream +all that afterwards occurred; saw him murdered, saw”—and he clasped +his hands before him, in an attitude inexpressibly convincing, while his +voice sank to a horrified whisper, “saw the face of his murderer!”</p> + +<p>I started, looked at him in amazement, a thrill as at a ghostly presence +running through me.</p> + +<p>“And was that——” I began.</p> + +<p>“My reason for denouncing the man I beheld before me in the hall of +Miss Leavenworth’s house last night? It was.” And, taking out his +handkerchief, he wiped his forehead, on which the perspiration was +standing in large drops.</p> + +<p>“You would then intimate that the face you saw in your dream and the +face you saw in the hall last night were the same?”</p> + +<p>He gravely nodded his head.</p> + +<p>I drew my chair nearer to his. “Tell me your dream,” said I.</p> + +<p>“It was the night before Mr. Leavenworth’s murder. I had gone to bed +feeling especially contented with myself and the world at large; for, +though my life is anything but a happy one,” and he heaved a short sigh, +“some pleasant words had been said to me that day, and I was revelling +in the happiness they conferred, when suddenly a chill struck my heart, +and the darkness which a moment before had appeared to me as the abode +of peace thrilled to the sound of a supernatural cry, and I heard my +name, ‘Trueman, Trueman, Trueman,’ repeated three times in a voice I did +not recognize, and starting from my pillow beheld at my bedside a woman. +Her face was strange to me,” he solemnly proceeded, “but I can give you +each and every detail of it, as, bending above me, she stared into my +eyes with a growing terror that seemed to implore help, though her lips +were quiet, and only the memory of that cry echoed in my ears.”</p> + +<p>“Describe the face,” I interposed.</p> + +<p>“It was a round, fair, lady’s face. Very lovely in contour, but devoid +of coloring; not beautiful, but winning from its childlike look of +trust. The hair, banded upon the low, broad forehead, was brown; the +eyes, which were very far apart, gray; the mouth, which was its most +charming feature, delicate of make and very expressive. There was +a dimple in the chin, but none in the cheeks. It was a face to be +remembered.”</p> + +<p>“Go on,” said I.</p> + +<p>“Meeting the gaze of those imploring eyes, I started up. Instantly the +face and all vanished, and I became conscious, as we sometimes do in +dreams, of a certain movement in the hall below, and the next instant +the gliding figure of a man of imposing size entered the library. +I remember experiencing a certain thrill at this, half terror, half +curiosity, though I seemed to know, as if by intuition, what he was +going to do. Strange to say, I now seemed to change my personality, +and to be no longer a third party watching these proceedings, but Mr. +Leavenworth himself, sitting at his library table and feeling his doom +crawling upon him without capacity for speech or power of movement to +avert it. Though my back was towards the man, I could feel his stealthy +form traverse the passage, enter the room beyond, pass to that stand +where the pistol was, try the drawer, find it locked, turn the key, +procure the pistol, weigh it in an accustomed hand, and advance again. +I could feel each footstep he took as though his feet were in truth upon +my heart, and I remember staring at the table before me as if I expected +every moment to see it run with my own blood. I can see now how the +letters I had been writing danced upon the paper before me, appearing +to my eyes to take the phantom shapes of persons and things long ago +forgotten; crowding my last moments with regrets and dead shames, wild +longings, and unspeakable agonies, through all of which that face, the +face of my former dream, mingled, pale, sweet, and searching, while +closer and closer behind me crept that noiseless foot till I could +feel the glaring of the assassin’s eyes across the narrow threshold +separating me from death and hear the click of his teeth as he set his +lips for the final act. Ah!” and the secretary’s livid face showed the +touch of awful horror, “what words can describe such an experience as +that? In one moment, all the agonies of hell in the heart and brain, +the next a blank through which I seemed to see afar, and as if suddenly +removed from all this, a crouching figure looking at its work with +starting eyes and pallid back-drawn lips; and seeing, recognize no face +that I had ever known, but one so handsome, so remarkable, so unique in +its formation and character, that it would be as easy for me to mistake +the countenance of my father as the look and figure of the man revealed +to me in my dream.”</p> + +<p>“And this face?” said I, in a voice I failed to recognize as my own.</p> + +<p>“Was that of him whom we saw leave Mary Leavenworth’s presence last +night and go down the hall to the front door.”</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXI_A_PREJUDICE">XXI. A PREJUDICE</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent4">“True, I talk of dreams,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which are the children of an idle brain</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Begot of nothing but vain phantasy.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent14">Romeo and Juliet.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + + +<p>FOR one moment I sat a prey to superstitious horror; then, my natural +incredulity asserting itself, I looked up and remarked:</p> + +<p>“You say that all this took place the night previous to the actual +occurrence?”</p> + +<p>He bowed his head. “For a warning,” he declared.</p> + +<p>“But you did not seem to take it as such?”</p> + +<p>“No; I am subject to horrible dreams. I thought but little of it in a +superstitious way till I looked next day upon Mr. Leavenworth’s dead +body.”</p> + +<p>“I do not wonder you behaved strangely at the inquest.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, sir,” he returned, with a slow, sad smile; “no one knows what +I suffered in my endeavors not to tell more than I actually knew, +irrespective of my dream, of this murder and the manner of its +accomplishment.”</p> + +<p>“You believe, then, that your dream foreshadowed the manner of the +murder as well as the fact?”</p> + +<p>“I do.”</p> + +<p>“It is a pity it did not go a little further, then, and tell us how +the assassin escaped from, if not how he entered, a house so securely +fastened.”</p> + +<p>His face flushed. “That would have been convenient,” he repeated. +“Also, if I had been informed where Hannah was, and why a stranger and a +gentleman should have stooped to the committal of such a crime.”</p> + +<p>Seeing that he was nettled, I dropped my bantering vein. “Why do you +say a stranger?” I asked; “are you so well acquainted with all who visit +that house as to be able to say who are and who are not strangers to the +family?</p> + +<p>“I am well acquainted with the faces of their friends, and Henry +Clavering is not amongst the number; but——”</p> + +<p>“Were you ever with Mr. Leavenworth,” I interrupted, “when he has been +away from home; in the country, for instance, or upon his travels?”</p> + +<p>“No.” But the negative came with some constraint.</p> + +<p>“Yet I suppose he was in the habit of absenting himself from home?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly.”</p> + +<p>“Can you tell me where he was last July, he and the ladies?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; they went to R——. The famous watering-place, you know. Ah,” +he cried, seeing a change in my face, “do you think he could have met +them there?”</p> + +<p>I looked at him for a moment, then, rising in my turn, stood level with +him, and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“You are keeping something back, Mr. Harwell; you have more knowledge of +this man than you have hitherto given me to understand. What is it?”</p> + +<p>He seemed astonished at my penetration, but replied: “I know no more +of the man than I have already informed you; but”—and a burning flush +crossed his face, “if you are determined to pursue this matter—” and he +paused, with an inquiring look.</p> + +<p>“I am resolved to find out all I can about Henry Clavering,” was my +decided answer.</p> + +<p>“Then,” said he, “I can tell you this much. Henry Clavering wrote a +letter to Mr. Leavenworth a few days before the murder, which I have +some reason to believe produced a marked effect upon the household.” +And, folding his arms, the secretary stood quietly awaiting my next +question.</p> + +<p>“How do you know?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“I opened it by mistake. I was in the habit of reading Mr. Leavenworth’s +business letters, and this, being from one unaccustomed to write to him, +lacked the mark which usually distinguished those of a private nature.”</p> + +<p>“And you saw the name of Clavering?”</p> + +<p>“I did; Henry Ritchie Clavering.”</p> + +<p>“Did you read the letter?” I was trembling now.</p> + +<p>The secretary did not reply.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Harwell,” I reiterated, “this is no time for false delicacy. Did +you read that letter?”</p> + +<p>“I did; but hastily, and with an agitated conscience.”</p> + +<p>“You can, however, recall its general drift?”</p> + +<p>“It was some complaint in regard to the treatment received by him at the +hand of one of Mr. Leavenworth’s nieces. I remember nothing more.”</p> + +<p>“Which niece?”</p> + +<p>“There were no names mentioned.”</p> + +<p>“But you inferred——”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; that is just what I did not do. I forced myself to forget the +whole thing.”</p> + +<p>“And yet you say it produced an effect upon the family?”</p> + +<p>“I can see now that it did. None of them have ever appeared quite the +same as before.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Harwell,” I gravely continued; “when you were questioned as to the +receipt of any letter by Mr. Leavenworth, which might seem in any manner +to be connected with this tragedy, you denied having seen any such; how +was that?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Raymond, you are a gentleman; have a chivalrous regard for the +ladies; do you think you could have brought yourself (even if in your +secret heart you considered some such result possible, which I am not +ready to say I did) to mention, at such a time as that, the receipt of +a letter complaining of the treatment received from one of Mr. +Leavenworth’s nieces, as a suspicious circumstance worthy to be taken +into account by a coroner’s jury?”</p> + +<p>I shook my head. I could not but acknowledge the impossibility.</p> + +<p>“What reason had I for thinking that letter was one of importance? I +knew of no Henry Ritchie Clavering.”</p> + +<p>“And yet you seemed to think it was. I remember you hesitated before +replying.”</p> + +<p>“It is true; but not as I should hesitate now, if the question were put +to me again.”</p> + +<p>Silence followed these words, during which I took two or three turns up +and down the room.</p> + +<p>“This is all very fanciful,” I remarked, laughing in the vain endeavor +to throw off the superstitious horror his words had awakened.</p> + +<p>He bent his head in assent. “I know it,” said he. “I am practical myself +in broad daylight, and recognize the flimsiness of an accusation based +upon a poor, hardworking secretary’s dream, as plainly as you do. This +is the reason I desired to keep from speaking at all; but, Mr. Raymond,” +and his long, thin hand fell upon my arm with a nervous intensity which +gave me almost the sensation of an electrical shock, “if the murderer of +Mr. Leavenworth is ever brought to confess his deed, mark my words, he +will prove to be the man of my dream.”</p> + +<p>I drew a long breath. For a moment his belief was mine; and a mingled +sensation of relief and exquisite pain swept over me as I thought of the +possibility of Eleanore being exonerated from crime only to be plunged +into fresh humiliation and deeper abysses of suffering.</p> + +<p>“He stalks the streets in freedom now,” the secretary went on, as if to +himself; “even dares to enter the house he has so wofully desecrated; +but justice is justice and, sooner or later, something will transpire +which will prove to you that a premonition so wonderful as that +I received had its significance; that the voice calling ‘Trueman, +Trueman,’ was something more than the empty utterances of an excited +brain; that it was Justice itself, calling attention to the guilty.”</p> + +<p>I looked at him in wonder. Did he know that the officers of justice were +already upon the track of this same Clavering? I judged not from his +look, but felt an inclination to make an effort and see.</p> + +<p>“You speak with strange conviction,” I said; “but in all probability +you are doomed to be disappointed. So far as we know, Mr. Clavering is a +respectable man.”</p> + +<p>He lifted his hat from the table. “I do not propose to denounce him; +I do not even propose to speak his name again. I am not a fool, Mr. +Raymond. I have spoken thus plainly to you only in explanation of last +night’s most unfortunate betrayal; and while I trust you will regard +what I have told you as confidential, I also hope you will give me +credit for behaving, on the whole, as well as could be expected under +the circumstances.” And he held out his hand.</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” I replied as I took it. Then, with a sudden impulse to +test the accuracy of this story of his, inquired if he had any means of +verifying his statement of having had this dream at the time spoken of: +that is, before the murder and not afterwards.</p> + +<p>“No, sir; I know myself that I had it the night previous to that of Mr. +Leavenworth’s death; but I cannot prove the fact.”</p> + +<p>“Did not speak of it next morning to any one?”</p> + +<p>“O no, sir; I was scarcely in a position to do so.”</p> + +<p>“Yet it must have had a great effect upon you, unfitting you for +work——”</p> + +<p>“Nothing unfits me for work,” was his bitter reply.</p> + +<p>“I believe you,” I returned, remembering his diligence for the last few +days. “But you must at least have shown some traces of having passed an +uncomfortable night. Have you no recollection of any one speaking to you +in regard to your appearance the next morning?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Leavenworth may have done so; no one else would be likely to +notice.” There was sadness in the tone, and my own voice softened as I +said:</p> + +<p>“I shall not be at the house to-night, Mr. Harwell; nor do I know when +I shall return there. Personal considerations keep me from Miss +Leavenworth’s presence for a time, and I look to you to carry on the +work we have undertaken without my assistance, unless you can bring it +here——”</p> + +<p>“I can do that.”</p> + +<p>“I shall expect you, then, to-morrow evening.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, sir”; and he was going, when a sudden thought seemed to +strike him. “Sir,” he said, “as we do not wish to return to this subject +again, and as I have a natural curiosity in regard to this man, would +you object to telling me what you know of him? You believe him to be a +respectable man; are you acquainted with him, Mr. Raymond?”</p> + +<p>“I know his name, and where he resides.”</p> + +<p>“And where is that?”</p> + +<p>“In London; he is an Englishman.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” he murmured, with a strange intonation.</p> + +<p>“Why do you say that?”</p> + +<p>He bit his lip, looked down, then up, finally fixed his eyes on mine, +and returned, with marked emphasis: “I used an exclamation, sir, because +I was startled.”</p> + +<p>“Startled?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; you say he is an Englishman. Mr. Leavenworth had the most bitter +antagonism to the English. It was one of his marked peculiarities. He +would never be introduced to one if he could help it.”</p> + +<p>It was my turn to look thoughtful.</p> + +<p>“You know,” continued the secretary, “that Mr. Leavenworth was a man who +carried his prejudices to the extreme. He had a hatred for the English +race amounting to mania. If he had known the letter I have mentioned was +from an Englishman, I doubt if he would have read it. He used to say he +would sooner see a daughter of his dead before him than married to an +Englishman.”</p> + +<p>I turned hastily aside to hide the effect which this announcement made +upon me.</p> + +<p>“You think I am exaggerating,” he said. “Ask Mr. Veeley.”</p> + +<p>“No,” I replied. “I have no reason for thinking so.”</p> + +<p>“He had doubtless some cause for hating the English with which we are +unacquainted,” pursued the secretary. “He spent some time in Liverpool +when young, and had, of course, many opportunities for studying their +manners and character.” And the secretary made another movement, as if +to leave.</p> + +<p>But it was my turn to detain him now. “Mr. Harwell, you must excuse me. +You have been on familiar terms with Mr. Leavenworth for so long. Do you +think that, in the case of one of his nieces, say, desiring to marry a +gentleman of that nationality, his prejudice was sufficient to cause him +to absolutely forbid the match?”</p> + +<p>“I do.”</p> + +<p>I moved back. I had learned what I wished, and saw no further reason for +prolonging the interview.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXII_PATCH-WORK">XXII. PATCH-WORK</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Come, give us a taste of your quality.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent16">Hamlet.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Starting with the assumption that Mr. Clavering in his conversation of +the morning had been giving me, with more or less accuracy, a +detailed account of his own experience and position regarding Eleanore +Leavenworth, I asked myself what particular facts it would be necessary +for me to establish in order to prove the truth of this assumption, and +found them to be:</p> + +<p>I. That Mr. Clavering had not only been in this country at the time +designated, but that he had been located for some little time at a +watering-place in New York State.</p> + +<p>II. That this watering-place should correspond to the one in which Miss +Eleanore Leavenworth was staying at the same time.</p> + +<p>III. That they had been seen while there to hold more or less +communication.</p> + +<p>IV. That they had both been absent from town, at some one time, long +enough to have gone through the ceremony of marriage at a point twenty +miles or so away.</p> + +<p>V. That a Methodist clergyman, who has since died, lived at that time +within a radius of twenty miles of said watering-place.</p> + +<p>I next asked myself how I was to establish these facts. Mr. Clavering’s +life was as yet too little known to me to offer me any assistance; so, +leaving it for the present, I took up the thread of Eleanore’s history, +and found that at the time given me she had been in R——, a fashionable +watering-place in this State. Now, if his was true, and my theory +correct, he must have been there also. To prove this fact, became, +consequently, my first business. I resolved to go to R—— on the +morrow.</p> + +<p>But before proceeding in an undertaking of such importance, I considered +it expedient to make such inquiries and collect such facts as the few +hours I had left to work in rendered possible. I went first to the house +of Mr. Gryce.</p> + +<p>I found him lying upon a hard sofa, in the bare sitting-room I have +before mentioned, suffering from a severe attack of rheumatism. His +hands were done up in bandages, and his feet incased in multiplied folds +of a dingy red shawl which looked as if it had been through the wars. +Greeting me with a short nod that was both a welcome and an apology, +he devoted a few words to an explanation of his unwonted position; and +then, without further preliminaries, rushed into the subject which was +uppermost in both our minds by inquiring, in a slightly sarcastic way, +if I was very much surprised to find my bird flown when I returned to +the Hoffman House that afternoon.</p> + +<p>“I was astonished to find you allowed him to fly at this time,” +I replied. “From the manner in which you requested me to make his +acquaintance, I supposed you considered him an important character in +the tragedy which has just been enacted.”</p> + +<p>“And what makes you think I don’t? Oh, the fact that I let him go off +so easily? That’s no proof. I never fiddle with the brakes till the +car starts down-hill. But let that pass for the present; Mr. Clavering, +then, did not explain himself before going?”</p> + +<p>“That is a question which I find it exceedingly difficult to answer. +Hampered by circumstances, I cannot at present speak with the directness +which is your due, but what I can say, I will. Know, then, that in my +opinion Mr. Clavering did explain himself in an interview with me this +morning. But it was done in so blind a way, it will be necessary for me +to make a few investigations before I shall feel sufficiently sure of +my ground to take you into my confidence. He has given me a possible +clue——”</p> + +<p>“Wait,” said Mr. Gryce; “does he know this? Was it done intentionally +and with sinister motive, or unconsciously and in plain good faith?”</p> + +<p>“In good faith, I should say.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce remained silent for a moment. “It is very unfortunate you +cannot explain yourself a little more definitely,” he said at last. “I +am almost afraid to trust you to make investigations, as you call them, +on your own hook. You are not used to the business, and will lose time, +to say nothing of running upon false scents, and using up your strength +on unprofitable details.”</p> + +<p>“You should have thought of that when you admitted me into partnership.”</p> + +<p>“And you absolutely insist upon working this mine alone?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Gryce, the matter stands just here. Mr. Clavering, for all I know, +is a gentleman of untarnished reputation. I am not even aware for what +purpose you set me upon his trail. I only know that in thus following +it I have come upon certain facts that seem worthy of further +investigation.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well; you know best. But the days are slipping by. Something must +be done, and soon. The public are becoming clamorous.”</p> + +<p>“I know it, and for that reason I have come to you for such assistance +as you can give me at this stage of the proceedings. You are in +possession of certain facts relating to this man which it concerns me +to know, or your conduct in reference to him has been purposeless. Now, +frankly, will you make me master of those facts: in short, tell me all +you know of Mr. Clavering, without requiring an immediate return of +confidence on my part?”</p> + +<p>“That is asking a great deal of a professional detective.”</p> + +<p>“I know it, and under other circumstances I should hesitate long before +preferring such a request; but as things are, I don’t see how I am to +proceed in the matter without some such concession on your part. At all +events——”</p> + +<p>“Wait a moment! Is not Mr. Clavering the lover of one of the young +ladies?”</p> + +<p>Anxious as I was to preserve the secret of my interest in that +gentleman, I could not prevent the blush from rising to my face at the +suddenness of this question.</p> + +<p>“I thought as much,” he went on. “Being neither a relative nor +acknowledged friend, I took it for granted he must occupy some such +position as that in the family.”</p> + +<p>“I do not see why you should draw such an inference,” said I, anxious +to determine how much he knew about him. “Mr. Clavering is a stranger in +town; has not even been in this country long; has indeed had no time to +establish himself upon any such footing as you suggest.”</p> + +<p>“This is not the only time Mr. Clavering has been in New York. He was +here a year ago to my certain knowledge.”</p> + +<p>“You know that?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“How much more do you know? Can it be possible I am groping blindly +about for facts which are already in your possession? I pray you listen +to my entreaties, Mr. Gryce, and acquaint me at once with what I want to +know. You will not regret it. I have no selfish motive in this matter. +If I succeed, the glory shall be yours; it I fail, the shame of the +defeat shall be mine.”</p> + +<p>“That is fair,” he muttered. “And how about the reward?”</p> + +<p>“My reward will be to free an innocent woman from the imputation of +crime which hangs over her.”</p> + +<p>This assurance seemed to satisfy him. His voice and appearance changed; +for a moment he looked quite confidential. “Well, well,” said he; “and +what is it you want to know?”</p> + +<p>“I should first like to know how your suspicions came to light on him +at all. What reason had you for thinking a gentleman of his bearing and +position was in any way connected with this affair?”</p> + +<p>“That is a question you ought not to be obliged to put,” he returned.</p> + +<p>“How so?”</p> + +<p>“Simply because the opportunity of answering it was in your hands before +ever it came into mine.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you remember the letter mailed in your presence by Miss Mary +Leavenworth during your drive from her home to that of her friend in +Thirty-seventh Street?”</p> + +<p>“On the afternoon of the inquest?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly, but——”</p> + +<p>“You never thought to look at its superscription before it was dropped +into the box.”</p> + +<p>“I had neither opportunity nor right to do so.”</p> + +<p>“Was it not written in your presence?”</p> + +<p>“It was.”</p> + +<p>“And you never regarded the affair as worth your attention?”</p> + +<p>“However I may have regarded it, I did not see how I could prevent Miss +Leavenworth from dropping a letter into a box if she chose to do so.”</p> + +<p>“That is because you are a <i>gentleman</i>. Well, it has its disadvantages,” +he muttered broodingly.</p> + +<p>“But you,” said I; “how came you to know anything about this letter? +Ah, I see,” remembering that the carriage in which we were riding at the +time had been procured for us by him. “The man on the box was in your +pay, and informed, as you call it.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce winked at his muffled toes mysteriously. “That is not the +point,” he said. “Enough that I heard that a letter, which might +reasonably prove to be of some interest to me, had been dropped at such +an hour into the box on the corner of a certain street. That, coinciding +in the opinion of my informant, I telegraphed to the station connected +with that box to take note of the address of a suspicious-looking letter +about to pass through their hands on the way to the General Post-Office, +and following up the telegram in person, found that a curious epistle +addressed in lead pencil and sealed with a stamp, had just arrived, the +address of which I was allowed to see——”</p> + +<p>“And which was?”</p> + +<p>“Henry R. Clavering, Hoffman House, New York.”</p> + +<p>I drew a deep breath. “And so that is how your attention first came to +be directed to this man?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Strange. But go on—what next?”</p> + +<p>“Why, next I followed up the clue by going to the Hoffman House and +instituting inquiries. I learned that Mr. Clavering was a regular guest +of the hotel. That he had come there, direct from the Liverpool +steamer, about three months since, and, registering his name as Henry +R. Clavering, Esq., London, had engaged a first-class room which he had +kept ever since. That, although nothing definite was known concerning +him, he had been seen with various highly respectable people, both of +his own nation and ours, by all of whom he was treated with respect. And +lastly, that while not liberal, he had given many evidences of being a +man of means. So much done, I entered the office, and waited for him to +come in, in the hope of having an opportunity to observe his manner when +the clerk handed him that strange-looking letter from Mary Leavenworth.”</p> + +<p>“And did you succeed?”</p> + +<p>“No; an awkward gawk of a fellow stepped between us just at the critical +moment, and shut off my view. But I heard enough that evening from the +clerk and servants, of the agitation he had shown on receiving it, to +convince me I was upon a trail worth following. I accordingly put on +my men, and for two days Mr. Clavering was subjected to the most +rigid watch a man ever walked under. But nothing was gained by it; his +interest in the murder, if interest at all, was a secret one; and though +he walked the streets, studied the papers, and haunted the vicinity +of the house in Fifth Avenue, he not only refrained from actually +approaching it, but made no attempt to communicate with any of the +family. Meanwhile, you crossed my path, and with your determination +incited me to renewed effort. Convinced from Mr. Clavering’s bearing, +and the gossip I had by this time gathered in regard to him, that no one +short of a gentleman and a friend could succeed in getting at the clue +of his connection with this family, I handed him over to you, and——”</p> + +<p>“Found me rather an unmanageable colleague.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce smiled very much as if a sour plum had been put in his mouth, +but made no reply; and a momentary pause ensued.</p> + +<p>“Did you think to inquire,” I asked at last, “if any one knew where Mr. +Clavering had spent the evening of the murder?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but with no good result. It was agreed he went out during the +evening; also that he was in his bed in the morning when the servant +came in to make his fire; but further than this no one seemed posted.”</p> + +<p>“So that, in fact, you gleaned nothing that would in any way connect +this man with the murder except his marked and agitated interest in it, +and the fact that a niece of the murdered man had written a letter to +him?”</p> + +<p>“That is all.”</p> + +<p>“Another question; did you hear in what manner and at what time he +procured a newspaper that evening?”</p> + +<p>“No; I only learned that he was observed, by more than one, to hasten +out of the dining-room with the <i>Post</i> in his hand, and go immediately +to his room without touching his dinner.”</p> + +<p>“Humph! that does not look—-”</p> + +<p>“If Mr. Clavering had had a guilty knowledge of the crime, he would +either have ordered dinner before opening the paper, or, having ordered +it, he would have eaten it.”</p> + +<p>“Then you do not believe, from what you have learned, that Mr. Clavering +is the guilty party?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce shifted uneasily, glanced at the papers protruding from my +coat pocket and exclaimed: “I am ready to be convinced by you that he +is.”</p> + +<p>That sentence recalled me to the business in hand. Without appearing to +notice his look, I recurred to my questions.</p> + +<p>“How came you to know that Mr. Clavering was in this city last summer? +Did you learn that, too, at the Hoffman House?”</p> + +<p>“No; I ascertained that in quite another way. In short, I have had a +communication from London in regard to the matter.</p> + +<p>“From London?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I’ve a friend there in my own line of business, who sometimes +assists me with a bit of information, when requested.”</p> + +<p>“But how? You have not had time to write to London, and receive an +answer since the murder.”</p> + +<p>“It is not necessary to write. It is enough for me to telegraph him the +name of a person, for him to understand that I want to know everything +he can gather in a reasonable length of time about that person.”</p> + +<p>“And you sent the name of Mr. Clavering to him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, in cipher.”</p> + +<p>“And have received a reply?”</p> + +<p>“This morning.”</p> + +<p>I looked towards his desk.</p> + +<p>“It is not there,” he said; “if you will be kind enough to feel in my +breast pocket you will find a letter——”</p> + +<p>It was in my hand before he finished his sentence. “Excuse my +eagerness,” I said. “This kind of business is new to me, you know.”</p> + +<p>He smiled indulgently at a very old and faded picture hanging on the +wall before him. “Eagerness is not a fault; only the betrayal of it. But +read out what you have there. Let us hear what my friend Brown has to +tell us of Mr. Henry Ritchie Clavering, of Portland Place, London.”</p> + +<p>I took the paper to the light and read as follows:</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="p15">“Henry Ritchie Clavering, Gentleman, aged 43. Born in +——, Hertfordshire, England. His father was Chas. Clavering, for +short time in the army. Mother was Helen Ritchie, of Dumfriesshire, +Scotland; she is still living. Home with H. R. C., in Portland Place, +London. H. R. C. is a bachelor, 6 ft. high, squarely built, weight +about 12 stone. Dark complexion, regular features. Eyes dark brown; +nose straight. Called a handsome man; walks erect and rapidly. In +society is considered a good fellow; rather a favorite, especially with +ladies. Is liberal, not extravagant; reported to be worth about +5000 pounds per year, and appearances give color to this statement. +Property consists of a small estate in Hertfordshire, and some funds, +amount not known. Since writing this much, a correspondent sends the +following in regard to his history. In ’46 went from uncle’s house to +Eton. From Eton went to Oxford, graduating in ’56. Scholarship good. In +1855 his uncle died, and his father succeeded to the estates. Father +died in ’57 by a fall from his horse or a similar accident. Within a +very short time H. R. C. took his mother to London, to the residence +named, where they have lived to the present time.</p> + +<p>“Travelled considerably in 1860; part of the time was with +—— ——, of Munich; also in party of Vandervorts from New York; went +as far east as Cairo. Went to America in 1875 alone, but at end of +three months returned on account of mother’s illness. Nothing is known +of his movements while in America.</p> + +<p>“From servants learn that he was always a favorite from a boy. More +recently has become somewhat taciturn. Toward last of his stay watched +the post carefully, especially foreign ones. Posted scarcely anything +but newspapers. Has written to Munich. Have seen, from waste-paper +basket, torn envelope directed to Amy Belden, no address. American +correspondents mostly in Boston; two in New York. Names not known, but +supposed to be bankers. Brought home considerable luggage, and fitted +up part of house, as for a lady. This was closed soon afterwards. Left +for America two months since. Has been, I understand, travelling in the +south. Has telegraphed twice to Portland Place. His friends hear from +him but rarely. Letters rec’d recently, posted in New York. One by last +steamer posted in F——, N. Y.</p> + +<p>“Business here conducted by ——. In the country, —— of —— has +charge of the property.</p> + +<p class="right padr2 p15bot">“BROWN.”</p> +</div> + + +<p>The document fell from my hands.</p> + +<p>F——, N. Y., was a small town near R——.</p> + +<p>“Your friend is a trump,” I declared. “He tells me just what I wanted +most to know.” And, taking out my book, I made memoranda of the facts +which had most forcibly struck me during my perusal of the communication +before me. “With the aid of what he tells me, I shall ferret out the +mystery of Henry Clavering in a week; see if I do not.”</p> + +<p>“And how soon,” inquired Mr. Gryce, “may I expect to be allowed to take +a hand in the game?”</p> + +<p>“As soon as I am reasonably assured I am upon the right tack.”</p> + +<p>“And what will it take to assure you of that?”</p> + +<p>“Not much; a certain point settled, and——”</p> + +<p>“Hold on; who knows but what I can do that for you?” And, looking +towards the desk which stood in the corner, Mr. Gryce asked me if I +would be kind enough to open the top drawer and bring him the bits of +partly-burned paper I would find there.</p> + +<p>Hastily complying, I brought three or four strips of ragged paper, and +laid them on the table at his side.</p> + +<p>“Another result of Fobbs’ researches under the coal on the first day of +the inquest,” Mr. Gryce abruptly explained. “You thought the key was +all he found. Well, it wasn’t. A second turning over of the coal brought +these to light, and very interesting they are, too.”</p> + +<p>I immediately bent over the torn and discolored scraps with great +anxiety. They were four in number, and appeared at first glance to be +the mere remnants of a sheet of common writing-paper, torn lengthwise +into strips, and twisted up into lighters; but, upon closer inspection, +they showed traces of writing upon one side, and, what was more +important still, the presence of one or more drops of spattered blood. +This latter discovery was horrible to me, and so overcame me for the +moment that I put the scraps down, and, turning towards Mr. Gryce, +inquired:</p> + +<p>“What do you make of them?”</p> + +<p>“That is just the question I was going to put to you.”</p> + +<p>Swallowing my disgust, I took them up again. “They look like the +remnants of some old letter,” said I.</p> + +<p>“They have that appearance,” Mr. Gryce grimly assented.</p> + +<p>“A letter which, from the drop of blood observable on the written side, +must have been lying face up on Mr. Leavenworth’s table at the time of +the murder—”</p> + +<p>“Just so.”</p> + +<p>“And from the uniformity in width of each of these pieces, as well as +their tendency to curl up when left alone, must first have been torn +into even strips, and then severally rolled up, before being tossed into +the grate where they were afterwards found.”</p> + +<p>“That is all good,” said Mr. Gryce; “go on.”</p> + +<p>“The writing, so far as discernible, is that of a cultivated gentleman. +It is not that of Mr. Leavenworth; for I have studied his chirography +too much lately not to know it at a glance; but it may be—Hold!” I +suddenly exclaimed, “have you any mucilage handy? I think, if I could +paste these strips down upon a piece of paper, so that they would +remain flat, I should be able to tell you what I think of them much more +easily.”</p> + +<p>“There is mucilage on the desk,” signified Mr. Gryce.</p> + +<p>Procuring it, I proceeded to consult the scraps once more for evidence +to guide me in their arrangement. These were more marked than I +expected; the longer and best preserved strip, with its “Mr. Hor” at +the top, showing itself at first blush to be the left-hand margin of +the letter, while the machine-cut edge of the next in length presented +tokens fully as conclusive of its being the right-hand margin of the +same. Selecting these, then, I pasted them down on a piece of paper at +just the distance they would occupy if the sheet from which they were +torn was of the ordinary commercial note size. Immediately it became +apparent: first, that it would take two other strips of the same width +to fill up the space left between them; and secondly, that the writing +did not terminate at the foot of the sheet, but was carried on to +another page.</p> + +<p>Taking up the third strip, I looked at its edge; it was machine-cut +at the top, and showed by the arrangement of its words that it was +the margin strip of a second leaf. Pasting that down by itself, I +scrutinized the fourth, and finding it also machine-cut at the top but +not on the side, endeavored to fit it to the piece already pasted down, +but the words would not match. Moving it along to the position it +would hold if it were the third strip, I fastened it down; the whole +presenting, when completed, the appearance seen on the opposite page.</p> + +<p>“Well!” exclaimed Mr. Gryce, “that’s business.” Then, as I held it up +before his eyes: “But don’t show it to me. Study it yourself, and tell +me what you think of it.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said I, “this much is certain: that it is a letter directed to +Mr. Leavenworth from some House, and dated—let’s see; that is an <i>h</i>, +isn’t it?” And I pointed to the one letter just discernible on the line +under the word House.</p> + +<p>“I should think so; but don’t ask me.”</p> + +<p>“It must be an <i>h</i>. The year is 1875, and this is not the termination +of either January or February. Dated, then, March 1st, 1876, and +signed ——”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce rolled his eyes in anticipatory ecstasy towards the ceiling.</p> + +<p>“By Henry Clavering,” I announced without hesitation.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce’s eyes returned to his swathed finger-ends. “Humph! how do you +know that?”</p> + +<p>“Wait a moment, and I’ll show you”; and, taking out of my pocket the +card which Mr. Clavering had handed me as an introduction at our late +interview, I laid it underneath the last line of writing on the second +page. One glance was sufficient. Henry Ritchie Clavering on the card; +H——chie—in the same handwriting on the letter.</p> + +<p>“Clavering it is,” said he, “without a doubt.” But I saw he was not +surprised.</p> + +<p>“And now,” I continued, “for its general tenor and meaning.” And, +commencing at the beginning, I read aloud the words as they came, with +pauses at the breaks, something as follows: “Mr. Hor—Dear—a niece whom +yo—one too who see—the love and trus—any other man ca—autiful, so +char——s she in face fo—— conversation. ery rose has its —— rose is no +exception ——ely as she is, char—— tender as she is, +s——pable of tramplin—— one who trusted —— heart ——. +—— him to —— he owes a —— honor ——ance.</p> + +<p>“If ——t believe —— her to —— cruel —— face, —— what is ——ble +serv—— yours</p> + +<p class="right padr2">“H——tchie”</p> + +<p>“It reads like a complaint against one of Mr. Leavenworth’s nieces,” I +said, and started at my own words.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” cried Mr. Gryce; “what is the matter?”</p> + +<p>“Why,” said I, “the fact is I have heard this very letter spoken of. +It <i>is</i> a complaint against one of Mr. Leavenworth’s nieces, and was +written by Mr. Clavering.” And I told him of Mr. Harwell’s communication +in regard to the matter.</p> + +<p>“Ah! then Mr. Harwell has been talking, has he? I thought he had +forsworn gossip.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Harwell and I have seen each other almost daily for the last two +weeks,” I replied. “It would be strange if he had nothing to tell me.”</p> + +<p>“And he says he has read a letter written to Mr. Leavenworth by Mr. +Clavering?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but the particular words of which he has now forgotten.”</p> + +<p>“These few here may assist him in recalling the rest.”</p> + +<p>“I would rather not admit him to a knowledge of the existence of +this piece of evidence. I don’t believe in letting any one into our +confidence whom we can conscientiously keep out.”</p> + +<p>“I see you don’t,” dryly responded Mr. Gryce.</p> + +<p>Not appearing to notice the fling conveyed by these words, I took up the +letter once more, and began pointing out such half-formed words in it +as I thought we might venture to complete, as the Hor—, yo—, +see—utiful——, har——, for——, tramplin——, pable——, serv——.</p> + +<p>This done, I next proposed the introduction of such others as seemed +necessary to the sense, as <i>Leavenworth</i> after <i>Horatio</i>; <i>Sir</i> after +<i>Dear</i>; <i>have</i> with a possible <i>you</i> before <i>a niece</i>; <i>thorn</i> after <i>its</i> +in the phrase <i>rose has its</i>; <i>on after trampling</i>; <i>whom</i> after <i>to</i>; +<i>debt after a</i>; <i>you</i> after <i>If</i>; <i>me ask</i> after <i>believe</i>; <i>beautiful</i> after +<i>cruel</i>.</p> + +<p>Between the columns of words thus furnished I interposed a phrase or +two, here and there, the whole reading upon its completion as follows:</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class=" p15 right padr4">“—— House.”</p> + +<p class="padr2">March 1st, 1876.</p> + +<p>“<i>Mr. Horatio Leavenworth</i>;</p> +<p>“<i>Dear Sir</i>:</p> + +<p>“(You) have a niece whom you       one too who seems       worthy       the love +and trust       of any other man ca       so       beautiful, so charming       is +she in face form and       conversation.       But every rose has its thorn +and (this) rose is no exception       lovely as she is, charming (as she +is,) tender as she is, she       is       capable of trampling on       one who +trusted her heart a</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="noindent">him to whom she owes a debt of honor a       ance +“If you don’t believe me ask her to       her       cruel beautiful face +what is (her) humble servant yours:</p> + +<p class="p15bot right padr2">“Henry Ritchie Clavering.”</p> +</div> + + +<p>“I think that will do,” said Mr. Gryce. “Its general tenor is evident, +and that is all we want at this time.”</p> + +<p>“The whole tone of it is anything but complimentary to the lady it +mentions,” I remarked. “He must have had, or imagined he had, some +desperate grievance, to provoke him to the use of such plain language in +regard to one he can still characterize as tender, charming, beautiful.”</p> + +<p>“Grievances are apt to lie back of mysterious crimes.”</p> + +<p>“I think I know what this one was,” I said; “but”—seeing him look +up—“must decline to communicate my suspicion to you for the present. My +theory stands unshaken, and in some degree confirmed; and that is all I +can say.”</p> + +<p>“Then this letter does not supply the link you wanted?”</p> + +<p>“No: it is a valuable bit of evidence; but it is not the link I am in +search of just now.”</p> + +<p>“Yet it must be an important clue, or Eleanore Leavenworth would not +have been to such pains, first to take it in the way she did from her +uncle’s table, and secondly——”</p> + +<p>“Wait! what makes you think this is the paper she took, or was believed +to have taken, from Mr. Leavenworth’s table on that fatal morning?”</p> + +<p>“Why, the fact that it was found together with the key, which we know +she dropped into the grate, and that there are drops of blood on it.”</p> + +<p>I shook my head.</p> + +<p>“Why do you shake your head?” asked Mr. Gryce.</p> + +<p>“Because I am not satisfied with your reason for believing this to be +the paper taken by her from Mr. Leavenworth’s table.”</p> + +<p>“And why?”</p> + +<p>“Well, first, because Fobbs does not speak of seeing any paper in her +hand, when she bent over the fire; leaving us to conclude that these +pieces were in the scuttle of coal she threw upon it; which surely you +must acknowledge to be a strange place for her to have put a paper she +took such pains to gain possession of; and, secondly, for the reason +that these scraps were twisted as if they had been used for curl papers, +or something of that kind; a fact hard to explain by your hypothesis.”</p> + +<p>The detective’s eye stole in the direction of my necktie, which was as +near as he ever came to a face. “You are a bright one,” said he; “a very +bright one. I quite admire you, Mr. Raymond.”</p> + +<p>A little surprised, and not altogether pleased with this unexpected +compliment, I regarded him doubtfully for a moment and then asked:</p> + +<p>“What is your opinion upon the matter?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you know I have no opinion. I gave up everything of that kind when +I put the affair into your hands.”</p> + +<p>“Still——”</p> + +<p>“That the letter of which these scraps are the remnant was on Mr. +Leavenworth’s table at the time of the murder is believed. That upon the +body being removed, a paper was taken from the table by Miss Eleanore +Leavenworth, is also believed. That, when she found her action had been +noticed, and attention called to this paper and the key, she resorted to +subterfuge in order to escape the vigilance of the watch that had been +set over her, and, partially succeeding in her endeavor, flung the key +into the fire from which these same scraps were afterwards recovered, is +also known. The conclusion I leave to your judgment.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, then,” said I, rising; “we will let conclusions go for the +present. My mind must be satisfied in regard to the truth or falsity of +a certain theory of mine, for my judgment to be worth much on this or +any other matter connected with the affair.”</p> + +<p>And, only waiting to get the address of his subordinate P., in case +I should need assistance in my investigations, I left Mr. Gryce, and +proceeded immediately to the house of Mr. Veeley.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXIII_THE_STORY_OF_A_CHARMING_WOMAN">XXIII. THE STORY OF A CHARMING WOMAN</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent5">“Fe, fi, fo, fum,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I smell the blood of an Englishman.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent12">Old Song.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“I hold you as a thing enskied and sainted.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent14">Measure for Measure.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>“You have never heard, then, the particulars of Mr. Leavenworth’s +marriage?”</p> + +<p>It was my partner who spoke. I had been asking him to explain to me Mr. +Leavenworth’s well-known antipathy to the English race.</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“If you had, you would not need to come to me for this explanation. But +it is not strange you are ignorant of the matter. I doubt if there +are half a dozen persons in existence who could tell you where Horatio +Leavenworth found the lovely woman who afterwards became his wife, +much less give you any details of the circumstances which led to his +marriage.”</p> + +<p>“I am very fortunate, then, in being in the confidence of one who can. +What were those circumstances, Mr. Veeley?”</p> + +<p>“It will aid you but little to hear. Horatio Leavenworth, when a young +man, was very ambitious; so much so, that at one time he aspired to +marry a wealthy lady of Providence. But, chancing to go to England, he +there met a young woman whose grace and charm had such an effect upon +him that he relinquished all thought of the Providence lady, though it +was some time before he could face the prospect of marrying the one +who had so greatly interested him; as she was not only in humble +circumstances, but was encumbered with a child concerning whose +parentage the neighbors professed ignorance, and she had nothing to +say. But, as is very apt to be the case in an affair like this, love and +admiration soon got the better of worldly wisdom. Taking his future +in his hands, he offered himself as her husband, when she immediately +proved herself worthy of his regard by entering at once into those +explanations he was too much of a gentleman to demand.</p> + +<p>The story she told was pitiful. She proved to be an American by birth, +her father having been a well-known merchant of Chicago. While he lived, +her home was one of luxury, but just as she was emerging into womanhood +he died. It was at his funeral she met the man destined to be her ruin. +How he came there she never knew; he was not a friend of her father’s. +It is enough he was there, and saw her, and that in three weeks—don’t +shudder, she was such a child—they were married. In twenty-four hours +she knew what that word meant for her; it meant blows. Everett, I am +telling no fanciful story. In twenty-four hours after that girl was +married, her husband, coming drunk into the house, found her in his way, +and knocked her down. It was but the beginning. Her father’s estate, on +being settled up, proving to be less than expected, he carried her off +to England, where he did not wait to be drunk in order to maltreat her. +She was not free from his cruelty night or day. Before she was sixteen, +she had run the whole gamut of human suffering; and that, not at the +hands of a coarse, common ruffian, but from an elegant, handsome, +luxury-loving gentleman, whose taste in dress was so nice he would +sooner fling a garment of hers into the fire than see her go into +company clad in a manner he did not consider becoming. She bore it till +her child was born, then she fled. Two days after the little one saw the +light, she rose from her bed and, taking her baby in her arms, ran out +of the house. The few jewels she had put into her pocket supported her +till she could set up a little shop. As for her husband, she neither saw +him, nor heard from him, from the day she left him till about two weeks +before Horatio Leavenworth first met her, when she learned from the +papers that he was dead. She was, therefore, free; but though she loved +Horatio Leavenworth with all her heart, she would not marry him. She +felt herself forever stained and soiled by the one awful year of abuse +and contamination. Nor could he persuade her. Not till the death of her +child, a month or so after his proposal, did she consent to give him her +hand and what remained of her unhappy life. He brought her to New York, +surrounded her with luxury and every tender care, but the arrow had gone +too deep; two years from the day her child breathed its last, she too +died. It was the blow of his life to Horatio Leavenworth; he was never +the same man again. Though Mary and Eleanore shortly after entered his +home, he never recovered his old light-heartedness. Money became his +idol, and the ambition to make and leave a great fortune behind him +modified all his views of life. But one proof remained that he never +forgot the wife of his youth, and that was, he could not bear to have +the word ‘Englishman’ uttered in his hearing.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Veeley paused, and I rose to go. “Do you remember how Mrs. +Leavenworth looked?” I asked. “Could you describe her to me?”</p> + +<p>He seemed a little astonished at my request, but immediately replied: +“She was a very pale woman; not strictly beautiful, but of a contour and +expression of great charm. Her hair was brown, her eyes gray—”</p> + +<p>“And very wide apart?”</p> + +<p>He nodded, looking still more astonished. “How came you to know? Have +you seen her picture?”</p> + +<p>I did not answer that question.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>On my way down-stairs, I bethought me of +a letter which I had in my pocket for Mr. Veeley’s son Fred, and, +knowing of no surer way of getting it to him that night than by leaving +it on the library table, I stepped to the door of that room, which in +this house was at the rear of the parlors, and receiving no reply to my +knock, opened it and looked in.</p> + +<p>The room was unlighted, but a cheerful fire was burning in the grate, +and by its glow I espied a lady crouching on the hearth, whom at first +glance I took for Mrs. Veeley. But, upon advancing and addressing her by +that name, I saw my mistake; for the person before me not only refrained +from replying, but, rising at the sound of my voice, revealed a form +of such noble proportions that all possibility of its being that of the +dainty little wife of my partner fled.</p> + +<p>“I see I have made a mistake,” said I. “I beg your pardon”; and would +have left the room, but something in the general attitude of the lady +before me restrained me, and, believing it to be Mary Leavenworth, I +inquired:</p> + +<p>“Can it be this is Miss Leavenworth?”</p> + +<p>The noble figure appeared to droop, the gently lifted head to fall, and +for a moment I doubted if I had been correct in my supposition. Then +form and head slowly erected themselves, a soft voice spoke, and I heard +a low “yes,” and hurriedly advancing, confronted—not Mary, with her +glancing, feverish gaze, and scarlet, trembling lips—but Eleanore, the +woman whose faintest look had moved me from the first, the woman whose +husband I believed myself to be even then pursuing to his doom!</p> + +<p>The surprise was too great; I could neither sustain nor conceal it. +Stumbling slowly back, I murmured something about having believed it +to be her cousin; and then, conscious only of the one wish to fly a +presence I dared not encounter in my present mood, turned, when her +rich, heart-full voice rose once more and I heard:</p> + +<p>“You will not leave me without a word, Mr. Raymond, now that chance has +thrown us together?” Then, as I came slowly forward: “Were you so very +much astonished to find me here?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know—I did not expect—” was my incoherent reply. “I had +heard you were ill; that you went nowhere; that you had no wish to see +your friends.”</p> + +<p>“I have been ill,” she said; “but I am better now, and have come to +spend the night with Mrs. Veeley, because I could not endure the stare +of the four walls of my room any longer.”</p> + +<p>This was said without any effort at plaintiveness, but rather as if she +thought it necessary to excuse herself for being where she was.</p> + +<p>“I am glad you did so,” said I. “You ought to be here all the while. +That dreary, lonesome boarding-house is no place for you, Miss +Leavenworth. It distresses us all to feel that you are exiling yourself +at this time.”</p> + +<p>“I do not wish anybody to be distressed,” she returned. “It is best for +me to be where I am. Nor am I altogether alone. There is a child there +whose innocent eyes see nothing but innocence in mine. She will keep me +from despair. Do not let my friends be anxious; I can bear it.” Then, in +a lower tone: “There is but one thing which really unnerves me; and +that is my ignorance of what is going on at home. Sorrow I can bear, but +suspense is killing me. Will you not tell me something of Mary and home? +I cannot ask Mrs. Veeley; she is kind, but has no real knowledge of Mary +or me, nor does she know anything of our estrangement. She thinks me +obstinate, and blames me for leaving my cousin in her trouble. But you +know I could not help it. You know,—” her voice wavered off into a +tremble, and she did not conclude.</p> + +<p>“I cannot tell you much,” I hastened to reply; “but whatever knowledge +is at my command is certainly yours. Is there anything in particular you +wish to know?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, how Mary is; whether she is well, and—and composed.”</p> + +<p>“Your cousin’s health is good,” I returned; “but I fear I cannot say she +is composed. She is greatly troubled about you.”</p> + +<p>“You see her often, then?”</p> + +<p>“I am assisting Mr. Harwell in preparing your uncle’s book for the +press, and necessarily am there much of the time.”</p> + +<p>“My uncle’s book!” The words came in a tone of low horror.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Miss Leavenworth. It has been thought best to bring it before the +world, and——”</p> + +<p>“And Mary has set you at the task?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>It seemed as if she could not escape from the horror which this caused. +“How could she? Oh, how could she!”</p> + +<p>“She considers herself as fulfilling her uncle’s wishes. He was very +anxious, as you know, to have the book out by July.”</p> + +<p>“Do not speak of it!” she broke in, “I cannot bear it.” Then, as if she +feared she had hurt my feelings by her abruptness, lowered her voice and +said: “I do not, however, know of any one I should be better pleased to +have charged with the task than yourself. With you it will be a work of +respect and reverence; but a stranger—Oh, I could not have endured a +stranger touching it.”</p> + +<p>She was fast falling into her old horror; but rousing herself, murmured: +“I wanted to ask you something; ah, I know”—and she moved so as to +face me. “I wish to inquire if everything is as before in the house; the +servants the same and—and other things?”</p> + +<p>“There is a Mrs. Darrell there; I do not know of any other change.”</p> + +<p>“Mary does not talk of going away?”</p> + +<p>“I think not.”</p> + +<p>“But she has visitors? Some one besides Mrs. Darrell to help her bear +her loneliness?”</p> + +<p>I knew what was coming, and strove to preserve my composure.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I replied; “a few.”</p> + +<p>“Would you mind naming them?” How low her tones were, but how distinct!</p> + +<p>“Certainly not. Mrs. Veeley, Mrs. Gilbert, Miss Martin, and a—a——”</p> + +<p>“Go on,” she whispered.</p> + +<p>“A gentleman by the name of Clavering.”</p> + +<p>“You speak that name with evident embarrassment,” she said, after a +moment of intense anxiety on my part. “May I inquire why?”</p> + +<p>Astounded, I raised my eyes to her face. It was very pale, and wore +the old look of self-repressed calm I remembered so well. I immediately +dropped my gaze.</p> + +<p>“Why? because there are some circumstances surrounding him which have +struck me as peculiar.”</p> + +<p>“How so?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“He appears under two names. To-day it is Clavering; a short time ago it +was——”</p> + +<p>“Go on.”</p> + +<p>“Robbins.”</p> + +<p>Her dress rustled on the hearth; there was a sound of desolation in it; +but her voice when she spoke was expressionless as that of an automaton.</p> + +<p>“How many times has this person, of whose name you do not appear to be +certain, been to see Mary?”</p> + +<p>“Once.”</p> + +<p>“When was it?”</p> + +<p>“Last night.”</p> + +<p>“Did he stay long?”</p> + +<p>“About twenty minutes, I should say.”</p> + +<p>“And do you think he will come again?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>“He has left the country.”</p> + +<p>A short silence followed this, I felt her eyes searching my face, but +doubt whether, if I had known she held a loaded pistol, I could have +looked up at that moment.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Raymond,” she at length observed, in a changed tone, “the last time +I saw you, you told me you were going to make some endeavor to restore +me to my former position before the world. I did not wish you to do so +then; nor do I wish you to do so now. Can you not make me comparatively +happy, then, by assuring me you have abandoned or will abandon a project +so hopeless?”</p> + +<p>“It is impossible,” I replied with emphasis. “I cannot abandon it. Much +as I grieve to be a source of sorrow to you, it is best you should know +that I can never give up the hope of righting you while I live.”</p> + +<p>She put out her hand in a sort of hopeless appeal inexpressibly touching +to behold in the fast waning firelight. But I was relentless.</p> + +<p>“I should never be able to face the world or my own conscience if, +through any weakness of my own, I should miss the blessed privilege +of setting the wrong right, and saving a noble woman from unmerited +disgrace.” And then, seeing she was not likely to reply to this, drew a +step nearer and said: “Is there not some little kindness I can show you, +Miss Leavenworth? Is there no message you would like taken, or act it +would give you pleasure to see performed?”</p> + +<p>She stopped to think. “No,” said she; “I have only one request to make, +and that you refuse to grant.”</p> + +<p>“For the most unselfish of reasons,” I urged.</p> + +<p>She slowly shook her head. “You think so”; then, before I could reply, +“I could desire one little favor shown me, however.”</p> + +<p>“What is that?”</p> + +<p>“That if anything should transpire; if Hannah should be found, or—or my +presence required in any way,—you will not keep me in ignorance. That +you will let me know the worst when it comes, without fail.”</p> + +<p>“I will.”</p> + +<p>“And now, good-night. Mrs. Veeley is coming back, and you would scarcely +wish to be found here by her.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said I.</p> + +<p>And yet I did not go, but stood watching the firelight flicker on her +black dress till the thought of Clavering and the duty I had for the +morrow struck coldly to my heart, and I turned away towards the +door. But at the threshold I paused again, and looked back. Oh, the +flickering, dying fire flame! Oh, the crowding, clustering shadows! +Oh, that drooping figure in their midst, with its clasped hands and its +hidden face! I see it all again; I see it as in a dream; then darkness +falls, and in the glare of gas-lighted streets, I am hastening along, +solitary and sad, to my lonely home.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXIV_A_REPORT_FOLLOWED_BY_SMOKE">XXIV. A REPORT FOLLOWED BY SMOKE</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Oft expectation fails, and most oft there</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where most it promises; and oft it hits</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where Hope is coldest, and Despair most sits.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent12">All’s Well that Ends Well.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>When I told Mr. Gryce I only waited for the determination of one fact, +to feel justified in throwing the case unreservedly into his hands, +I alluded to the proving or disproving of the supposition that Henry +Clavering had been a guest at the same watering-place with Eleanore +Leavenworth the summer before.</p> + +<p>When, therefore, I found myself the next morning with the Visitor Book +of the Hotel Union at R—— in my hands, it was only by the strongest +effort of will I could restrain my impatience. The suspense, however, +was short. Almost immediately I encountered his name, written not half +a page below those of Mr. Leavenworth and his nieces, and, whatever +may have been my emotion at finding my suspicions thus confirmed, I +recognized the fact that I was in the possession of a clue which would +yet lead to the solving of the fearful problem which had been imposed +upon me.</p> + +<p>Hastening to the telegraph office, I sent a message for the man promised +me by Mr. Gryce, and receiving for an answer that he could not be with +me before three o’clock, started for the house of Mr. Monell, a client +of ours, living in R——. I found him at home and, during our interview +of two hours, suffered the ordeal of appearing at ease and interested +in what he had to say, while my heart was heavy with its first +disappointment and my brain on fire with the excitement of the work then +on my hands.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>I arrived at the depot just as the train came in. +There was but one passenger for R——, a brisk young man, whose whole +appearance differed so from the description which had been given me of +Q that I at once made up my mind he could not be the man I was looking +for, and was turning away disappointed, when he approached, and handed +me a card on which was inscribed the single character “?” Even then I +could not bring myself to believe that the slyest and most successful +agent in Mr. Gryce’s employ was before me, till, catching his eye, I saw +such a keen, enjoyable twinkle sparkling in its depths that all doubt +fled, and, returning his bow with a show of satisfaction, I remarked:</p> + +<p>“You are very punctual. I like that.”</p> + +<p>He gave another short, quick nod. “Glad, sir, to please you. Punctuality +is too cheap a virtue not to be practised by a man on the lookout for +a rise. But what orders, sir? Down train due in ten minutes; no time to +spare.”</p> + +<p>“Down train? What have we to do with that?”</p> + +<p>“I thought you might wish to take it, sir. Mr. Brown”—winking +expressively at the name, “always checks his carpet-bag for home when he +sees me coming. But that is your affair; I am not particular.”</p> + +<p>“I wish to do what is wisest under the circumstances.”</p> + +<p>“Go home, then, as speedily as possible.” And he gave a third sharp nod +exceedingly business-like and determined.</p> + +<p>“If I leave you, it is with the understanding that you bring your +information first to me; that you are in my employ, and in that of no +one else for the time being; and that <i>mum</i> is the word till I give you +liberty to speak.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir. When I work for Brown & Co. I do not work for Smith & Jones. +That you can count on.”</p> + +<p>“Very well then, here are your instructions.”</p> + +<p>He looked at the paper I handed him with a certain degree of care, then +stepped into the waiting-room and threw it into the stove, saying in +a low tone: “So much in case I should meet with some accident: have an +apoplectic fit, or anything of that sort.”</p> + +<p>“But——”</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t worry; I sha’n’t forget. I’ve a memory, sir. No need of +anybody using pen and paper with me.”</p> + +<p>And laughing in the short, quick way one would expect from a person of +his appearance and conversation, he added: “You will probably hear from +me in a day or so,” and bowing, took his brisk, free way down the street +just as the train came rushing in from the West.</p> + +<p>My instructions to Q were as follows:</p> + +<p>1. To find out on what day, and in whose company, the Misses Leavenworth +arrived at R—— the year before. What their movements had been while +there, and in whose society they were oftenest to be seen. Also the date +of their departure, and such facts as could be gathered in regard to +their habits, etc.</p> + +<p>2. Ditto in respect to a Mr. Henry Clavering, fellow-guest and probable +friend of said ladies.</p> + +<p>3. Name of individual fulfilling the following requirements: Clergyman, +Methodist, deceased since last December or thereabouts, who in July of +Seventy-five was located in some town not over twenty miles from R——.</p> + +<p>4. Also name and present whereabouts of a man at that time in service of +the above.</p> + +<p>To say that the interval of time necessary to a proper inquiry into +these matters was passed by me in any reasonable frame of mind, would be +to give myself credit for an equanimity of temper which I unfortunately +do not possess. Never have days seemed so long as the two which +interposed between my return from R—— and the receipt of the following +letter:</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="p15">“Sir:</p> + +<p>“Individuals mentioned arrived in R—— July 3, 1875. Party consisted +of four; the two ladies, their uncle, and the girl named Hannah. +Uncle remained three days, and then left for a short tour through +Massachusetts. Gone two weeks, during which ladies were seen more +or less with the gentleman named between us, but not to an extent +sufficient to excite gossip or occasion remark, when said gentleman +left R—— abruptly, two days after uncle’s return. Date July 19. As to +habits of ladies, more or less social. They were always to be seen +at picnics, rides, etc., and in the ballroom. M—— liked best. +E——considered grave, and, towards the last of her stay, moody. It is +remembered now that her manner was always peculiar, and that she was +more or less shunned by her cousin.</p> + +<p>However, in the opinion of one girl still to be found at the hotel, she +was the sweetest lady that ever breathed. No particular reason for this +opinion. Uncle, ladies, and servants left R—— for New York, August 7, +1875.</p> + +<p>“2. H. C. arrived at the hotel in R——July 6, 1875, in-company with Mr. +and Mrs. Vandervort, friends of the above. Left July 19, two weeks from +day of arrival. Little to be learned in regard to him. Remembered as the +handsome gentleman who was in the party with the L. girls, and that is +all.</p> + +<p>“3. F——, a small town, some sixteen or seventeen miles from R——, had +for its Methodist minister, in July of last year, a man who has since +died, Samuel Stebbins by name. Date of decease, Jan. 7 of this year.</p> + +<p class="p15bot">“4. Name of man in employ of S. S. at that time is Timothy Cook. He +has been absent, but returned to F—— two days ago. Can be seen if +required.”</p> +</div> + + +<p>“Ah, ha!” I cried aloud at this point, in my sudden surprise and +satisfaction; “now we have something to work upon!” And sitting down I +penned the following reply:</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="p15 p15bot">“T. C. wanted by all means. Also any evidence going to prove that H. +C. and E. L. were married at the house of Mr. S. on any day of July or +August last.”</p> +</div> + + +<p>Next morning came the following telegram:</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="p15 p15bot">“T. C. on the road. Remembers a marriage. Will be with you by 2 P.M.”</p> +</div> + + +<p>At three o’clock of that same day, I stood before Mr. Gryce. “I am here +to make my report,” I announced.</p> + +<p>The flicker of a smile passed over his face, and he gazed for the first +time at his bound-up finger-ends with a softening aspect which must have +done them good. “I’m ready,” said he.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Gryce,” I began, “do you remember the conclusion we came to at our +first interview in this house?”</p> + +<p>“I remember the <i>one you</i> came to.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well,” I acknowledged a little peevishly, “the one I came to, +then. It was this: that if we could find to whom Eleanore Leavenworth +felt she owed her best duty and love, we should discover the man who +murdered her uncle.”</p> + +<p>“And do you imagine you have done this?”</p> + +<p>“I do.”</p> + +<p>His eyes stole a little nearer my face. “Well! that is good; go on.”</p> + +<p>“When I undertook this business of clearing Eleanore Leavenworth from +suspicion,” I resumed, “it was with the premonition that this person +would prove to be her lover; but I had no idea he would prove to be her +husband.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce’s gaze flashed like lightning to the ceiling.</p> + +<p>“What!” he ejaculated with a frown.</p> + +<p>“The lover of Eleanore Leavenworth is likewise her husband,” I repeated. +“Mr. Clavering holds no lesser connection to her than that.”</p> + +<p>“How have you found that out?” demanded Mr. Gryce, in a harsh tone that +argued disappointment or displeasure.</p> + +<p>“That I will not take time to state. The question is not how I became +acquainted with a certain thing, but is what I assert in regard to it +true. If you will cast your eye over this summary of events gleaned by +me from the lives of these two persons, I think you will agree with me +that it is.” And I held up before his eyes the following:</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="p15">“During the two weeks commencing July 6, of the year 1875, and ending +July 19, of the same year, Henry R. Clavering, of London, and Eleanore +Leavenworth, of New York, were guests of the same hotel. <i>Fact proved +by Visitor Book of the Hotel Union at R</i>——, <i>New York</i>.</p> + +<p>“They were not only guests of the same hotel, but are known to have +held more or less communication with each other. <i>Fact proved by such +servants now employed in R—— as were in the hotel at that time.</i></p> + +<p>“July 19. Mr. Clavering left R—— abruptly, a circumstance that would +not be considered remarkable if Mr. Leavenworth, whose violent antipathy +to Englishmen as husbands is publicly known, had not just returned from +a journey.</p> + +<p>“July 30. Mr. Clavering was seen in the parlor of Mr. Stebbins, the +Methodist minister at F——, a town about sixteen miles from R——, +where he was married to a lady of great beauty. <i>Proved by Timothy Cook, +a man in the employ of Mr. Stebbins, who was called in from the garden +to witness the ceremony and sign a paper supposed to be a certificate.</i></p> + +<p>“July 31. Mr. Clavering takes steamer for Liverpool. <i>Proved by +newspapers of that date.</i></p> + +<p>“September. Eleanore Leavenworth in her uncle’s house in New York, +conducting herself as usual, but pale of face and preoccupied in manner. +<i>Proved by servants then in her service.</i> Mr. Clavering in London; +watches the United States mails with eagerness, but receives no letters. +Fits up room elegantly, as for a lady. <i>Proved by secret communication +from London.</i></p> + +<p>“November. Miss Leavenworth still in uncle’s house. No publication +of her marriage ever made. Mr. Clavering in London; shows signs of +uneasiness; the room prepared for lady closed. <i>Proved as above.</i></p> + +<p>“January 17, 1876. Mr. Clavering, having returned to America, engages +room at Hoffman House, New York.</p> + +<p>“March 1 or 2. Mr. Leavenworth receives a letter signed by Henry +Clavering, in which he complains of having been ill-used by one of that +gentleman’s nieces. A manifest shade falls over the family at this time.</p> + +<p class="p15bot">“March 4. Mr. Clavering under a false name inquires at the door of Mr. +Leavenworth’s house for Miss Eleanore Leavenworth. <i>Proved by Thomas.</i>”</p> +</div> + + +<p>“March 4th?” exclaimed Mr. Gryce at this point. “That was the night of +the murder.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; the Mr. Le Roy Robbins said to have called that evening was none +other than Mr. Clavering.”</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="p15 p15bot">“March 19. Miss Mary Leavenworth, in a conversation with me, +acknowledges that there is a secret in the family, and is just upon the +point of revealing its nature, when Mr. Clavering enters the house. Upon +his departure she declares her unwillingness ever to mention the subject +again.”</p> +</div> + + +<p>Mr. Gryce slowly waved the paper aside. “And from these facts you draw +the inference that Eleanore Leavenworth is the wife of Mr. Clavering?”</p> + +<p>“I do.”</p> + +<p>“And that, being his wife——”</p> + +<p>“It would be natural for her to conceal anything she knew likely to +criminate him.”</p> + +<p>“Always supposing Clavering himself had done anything criminal!”</p> + +<p>“Of course.”</p> + +<p>“Which latter supposition you now propose to justify!”</p> + +<p>“Which latter supposition it is left for <i>us</i> to justify.”</p> + +<p>A peculiar gleam shot over Mr. Gryce’s somewhat abstracted countenance. +“Then you have no new evidence against Mr. Clavering?”</p> + +<p>“I should think the fact just given, of his standing in the relation of +unacknowledged husband to the suspected party was something.”</p> + +<p>“No positive evidence as to his being the assassin of Mr. Leavenworth, I +mean?”</p> + +<p>I was obliged to admit I had none which he would consider positive. “But +I can show the existence of motive; and I can likewise show it was not +only possible, but probable, he was in the house at the time of the +murder.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, you can!” cried Mr. Gryce, rousing a little from his abstraction.</p> + +<p>“The motive was the usual one of self-interest. Mr. Leavenworth stood +in the way of Eleanore’s acknowledging him as a husband, and he must +therefore be put out of the way.”</p> + +<p>“Weak!”</p> + +<p>“Motives for murders are sometimes weak.”</p> + +<p>“The motive for this was not. Too much calculation was shown for the arm +to have been nerved by anything short of the most deliberate intention, +founded upon the deadliest necessity of passion or avarice.”</p> + +<p>“Avarice?”</p> + +<p>“One should never deliberate upon the causes which have led to the +destruction of a rich man without taking into account that most common +passion of the human race.”</p> + +<p>“But——”</p> + +<p>“Let us hear what you have to say of Mr. Clavering’s presence in the +house at the time of the murder.”</p> + +<p>I related what Thomas the butler had told me in regard to Mr. +Clavering’s call upon Miss Leavenworth that night, and the lack of proof +which existed as to his having left the house when supposed to do so.</p> + +<p>“That is worth remembering,” said Mr. Gryce at the conclusion. +“Valueless as direct evidence, it might prove of great value as +corroborative.” Then, in a graver tone, he went on to say: “Mr. Raymond, +are you aware that in all this you have been strengthening the case +against Eleanore Leavenworth instead of weakening it?”</p> + +<p>I could only ejaculate, in my sudden wonder and dismay.</p> + +<p>“You have shown her to be secret, sly, and unprincipled; capable of +wronging those to whom she was most bound, her uncle and her husband.”</p> + +<p>“You put it very strongly,” said I, conscious of a shocking discrepancy +between this description of Eleanore’s character and all that I had +preconceived in regard to it.</p> + +<p>“No more so than your own conclusions from this story warrant me in +doing.” Then, as I sat silent, murmured low, and as if to himself: +“If the case was dark against her before, it is doubly so with this +supposition established of her being the woman secretly married to Mr. +Clavering.”</p> + +<p>“And yet,” I protested, unable to give up my hope without a struggle; +“you do not, cannot, believe the noble-looking Eleanore guilty of this +horrible crime?”</p> + +<p>“No,” he slowly said; “you might as well know right here what I think +about that. I believe Eleanore Leavenworth to be an innocent woman.”</p> + +<p>“You do? Then what,” I cried, swaying between joy at this admission and +doubt as to the meaning of his former expressions, “remains to be done?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce quietly responded: “Why, nothing but to prove your supposition +a false one.”</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXV_TIMOTHY_COOK">XXV. TIMOTHY COOK</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Look here upon this picture and on this.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent15">Hamlet.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>I stared at him in amazement. “I doubt if it will be so very difficult,” +said he. Then, in a sudden burst, “Where is the man Cook?”</p> + +<p>“He is below with Q.”</p> + +<p>“That was a wise move; let us see the boys; have them up.”</p> + +<p>Stepping to the door I called them.</p> + +<p>“I expected, of course, you would want to question them,” said I, coming +back.</p> + +<p>In another moment the spruce Q and the shock-headed Cook entered the +room.</p> + +<p>“Ah,” said Mr. Gryce, directing his attention at the latter in his own +whimsical, non-committal way; “this is the deceased Mr. Stebbins’ hired +man, is it? Well, you look as though you could tell the truth.”</p> + +<p>“I usually calculate to do that thing, sir; at all events, I was never +called a liar as I can remember.”</p> + +<p>“Of course not, of course not,” returned the affable detective. Then, +without any further introduction: “What was the first name of the lady +you saw married in your master’s house last summer?”</p> + +<p>“Bless me if I know! I don’t think I heard, sir.”</p> + +<p>“But you recollect how she looked?”</p> + +<p>“As well as if she was my own mother. No disrespect to the lady, sir, if +you know her,” he made haste to add, glancing hurriedly at me. “What I +mean is, she was so handsome, I could never forget the look of her sweet +face if I lived a hundred years.”</p> + +<p>“Can you describe her?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, sirs; she was tall and grand-looking, had the brightest +eyes and the whitest hand, and smiled in a way to make even a common man +like me wish he had never seen her.”</p> + +<p>“Would you know her in a crowd?”</p> + +<p>“I would know her anywhere.”</p> + +<p>“Very well; now tell us all you can about that marriage.”</p> + +<p>“Well, sirs, it was something like this. I had been in Mr. Stebbins’ +employ about a year, when one morning as I was hoeing in the garden +I saw a gentleman walk rapidly up the road to our gate and come in. I +noticed him particularly, because he was so fine-looking; unlike anybody +in F——, and, indeed, unlike anybody I had ever seen, for that matter; +but I shouldn’t have thought much about that if there hadn’t come along, +not five minutes after, a buggy with two ladies in it, which stopped at +our gate, too. I saw they wanted to get out, so I went and held their +horse for them, and they got down and went into the house.”</p> + +<p>“Did you see their faces?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; not then. They had veils on.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, go on.”</p> + +<p>“I hadn’t been to work long, before I heard some one calling my name, +and looking up, saw Mr. Stebbins standing in the doorway beckoning. I +went to him, and he said, ‘I want you, Tim; wash your hands and come +into the parlor.’ I had never been asked to do that before, and it +struck me all of a heap; but I did what he asked, and was so taken +aback at the looks of the lady I saw standing up on the floor with +the handsome gentleman, that I stumbled over a stool and made a great +racket, and didn’t know much where I was or what was going on, till I +heard Mr. Stebbins say ‘man and wife’; and then it came over me in a hot +kind of way that it was a marriage I was seeing.”</p> + +<p>Timothy Cook stopped to wipe his forehead, as if overcome with the very +recollection, and Mr. Gryce took the opportunity to remark:</p> + +<p>“You say there were two ladies; now where was the other one at this +time?”</p> + +<p>“She was there, sir; but I didn’t mind much about her, I was so taken up +with the handsome one and the way she had of smiling when any one looked +at her. I never saw the beat.”</p> + +<p>I felt a quick thrill go through me.</p> + +<p>“Can you remember the color of her hair or eyes?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; I had a feeling as if she wasn’t dark, and that is all I +know.”</p> + +<p>“But you remember her face?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir!”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce here whispered me to procure two pictures which I would find +in a certain drawer in his desk, and set them up in different parts of +the room unbeknown to the man.</p> + +<p>“You have before said,” pursued Mr. Gryce, “that you have no remembrance +of her name. Now, how was that? Weren’t you called upon to sign the +certificate?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; but I am most ashamed to say it; I was in a sort of maze, +and didn’t hear much, and only remember it was a Mr. Clavering she was +married to, and that some one called some one else Elner, or something +like that. I wish I hadn’t been so stupid, sir, if it would have done +you any good.”</p> + +<p>“Tell us about the signing of the certificate,” said Mr. Gryce.</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, there isn’t much to tell. Mr. Stebbins asked me to put my +name down in a certain place on a piece of paper he pushed towards me, +and I put it down there; that is all.”</p> + +<p>“Was there no other name there when you wrote yours?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir. Afterwards Mr. Stebbins turned towards the other lady, who now +came forward, and asked her if she wouldn’t please sign it, too; and she +said, ‘yes,’ and came very quickly and did so.”</p> + +<p>“And didn’t you see her face then?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; her back was to me when she threw by her veil, and I only saw +Mr. Stebbins staring at her as she stooped, with a kind of wonder on his +face, which made me think she might have been something worth looking at +too; but I didn’t see her myself.”</p> + +<p>“Well, what happened then?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, sir. I went stumbling out of the room, and didn’t see +anything more.”</p> + +<p>“Where were you when the ladies went away?”</p> + +<p>“In the garden, sir. I had gone back to my work.”</p> + +<p>“You saw them, then. Was the gentleman with them?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; that was the queer part of it all. They went back as they +came, and so did he; and in a few minutes Mr. Stebbins came out where I +was, and told me I was to say nothing about what I had seen, for it was +a secret.”</p> + +<p>“Were you the only one in the house who knew anything about it? Weren’t +there any women around?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; Miss Stebbins had gone to the sewing circle.”</p> + +<p>I had by this time some faint impression of what Mr. Gryce’s suspicions +were, and in arranging the pictures had placed one, that of Eleanore, on +the mantel-piece, and the other, which was an uncommonly fine photograph +of Mary, in plain view on the desk. But Mr. Cook’s back was as yet +towards that part of the room, and, taking advantage of the moment, +I returned and asked him if that was all he had to tell us about this +matter.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Then,” said Mr. Gryce, with a glance at Q, “isn’t there something you +can give Mr. Cook in payment for his story? Look around, will you?”</p> + +<p>Q nodded, and moved towards a cupboard in the wall at the side of the +mantel-piece; Mr. Cook following him with his eyes, as was natural, +when, with a sudden start, he crossed the room and, pausing before the +mantel-piece, looked at the picture of Eleanore which I had put there, +gave a low grunt of satisfaction or pleasure, looked at it again, and +walked away. I felt my heart leap into my throat, and, moved by what +impulse of dread or hope I cannot say, turned my back, when suddenly I +heard him give vent to a startled exclamation, followed by the words: +“Why! here she is; this is her, sirs,” and turning around saw him +hurrying towards us with Mary’s picture in his hands.</p> + +<p>I do not know as I was greatly surprised. I was powerfully excited, as +well as conscious of a certain whirl of thought, and an unsettling of +old conclusions that was very confusing; but surprised? No. Mr. Gryce’s +manner had too well prepared me.</p> + +<p>“This the lady who was married to Mr. Clavering, my good man? I guess +you are mistaken,” cried the detective, in a very incredulous tone.</p> + +<p>“Mistaken? Didn’t I say I would know her anywhere? This is the lady, if +she is the president’s wife herself.” And Mr. Cook leaned over it with a +devouring look that was not without its element of homage.</p> + +<p>“I am very much astonished,” Mr. Gryce went on, winking at me in a slow, +diabolical way which in another mood would have aroused my fiercest +anger. “Now, if you had said the other lady was the one”—pointing to +the picture on the mantel-piece,” I shouldn’t have wondered.”</p> + +<p>“She? I never saw that lady before; but this one—would you mind telling +me her name, sirs?”</p> + +<p>“If what you say is true, her name is Mrs. Clavering.”</p> + +<p>“Clavering? Yes, that was his name.”</p> + +<p>“And a very lovely lady,” said Mr. Gryce. “Morris, haven’t you found +anything yet?”</p> + +<p>Q, for answer, brought forward glasses and a bottle.</p> + +<p>But Mr. Cook was in no mood for liquor. I think he was struck with +remorse; for, looking from the picture to Q, and from Q to the picture, +he said:</p> + +<p>“If I have done this lady wrong by my talk, I’ll never forgive myself. +You told me I would help her to get her rights; if you have deceived me +——”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I haven’t deceived you,” broke in Q, in his short, sharp way. “Ask +that gentleman there if we are not all interested in Mrs. Clavering +getting her due.”</p> + +<p>He had designated me; but I was in no mood to reply. I longed to +have the man dismissed, that I might inquire the reason of the great +complacency which I now saw overspreading Mr. Gryce’s frame, to his very +finger-ends.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Cook needn’t be concerned,” remarked Mr. Gryce. “If he will take +a glass of warm drink to fortify him for his walk, I think he may go to +the lodgings Mr. Morris has provided for him without fear. Give the gent +a glass, and let him mix for himself.”</p> + +<p>But it was full ten minutes before we were delivered of the man and his +vain regrets. Mary’s image had called up every latent feeling in his +heart, and I could but wonder over a loveliness capable of swaying the +low as well as the high. But at last he yielded to the seductions of the +now wily Q, and departed.</p> + +<p>Left alone with Mr. Gryce, I must have allowed some of the confused +emotions which filled my breast to become apparent on my countenance; +for after a few minutes of ominous silence, he exclaimed very grimly, +and yet with a latent touch of that complacency I had before noticed:</p> + +<p>“This discovery rather upsets you, doesn’t it? Well, it don’t me,” +shutting his mouth like a trap. “I expected it.”</p> + +<p>“Your conclusions must differ very materially from mine,” I returned; +“or you would see that this discovery alters the complexion of the whole +affair.”</p> + +<p>“It does not alter the truth.”</p> + +<p>“What is the truth?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce’s very legs grew thoughtful; his voice sank to its deepest +tone. “Do you very much want to know?”</p> + +<p>“Want to know the truth? What else are we after?”</p> + +<p>“Then,” said he, “to my notion, the complexion of things has altered, +but very much for the better. As long as Eleanore was believed to be +the wife, her action in this matter was accounted for; but the tragedy +itself was not. Why should Eleanore or Eleanore’s husband wish the death +of a man whose bounty they believed would end with his life? But with +Mary, the heiress, proved the wife!—I tell you, Mr. Raymond, it all +hangs together now. You must never, in reckoning up an affair of murder +like this, forget who it is that most profits by the deceased man’s +death.”</p> + +<p>“But Eleanore’s silence? her concealment of certain proofs and evidences +in her own breast—how will you account for that? I can imagine a woman +devoting herself to the shielding of a husband from the consequences of +crime; but a cousin’s husband, never.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce put his feet very close together, and softly grunted. “Then +you still think Mr. Clavering the assassin of Mr. Leavenworth?”</p> + +<p>I could only stare at him in my sudden doubt and dread. “Still think?” I +repeated.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Clavering the murderer of Mr. Leavenworth?”</p> + +<p>“Why, what else is there to think? You don’t—you can’t—suspect +Eleanore of having deliberately undertaken to help her cousin out of a +difficulty by taking the life of their mutual benefactor?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Mr. Gryce; “no, I do not think Eleanore Leavenworth had any +hand in the business.”</p> + +<p>“Then who—” I began, and stopped, lost in the dark vista that was +opening before me.</p> + +<p>“Who? Why, who but the one whose past deceit and present necessity +demanded his death as a relief? Who but the beautiful, money-loving, +man-deceiving goddess——”</p> + +<p>I leaped to my feet in my sudden horror and repugnance. “Do not mention +the name! You are wrong; but do not speak the name.”</p> + +<p>“Excuse me,” said he; “but it will have to be spoken many times, and we +may as well begin here and now—who then but Mary Leavenworth; or, if +you like it better, Mrs. Henry Clavering? Are you so much surprised? It +has been my thought from the beginning.”</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXVI_MR_GRYCE_EXPLAINS_HIMSELF">XXVI. MR. GRYCE EXPLAINS HIMSELF</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Sits the wind in that corner?”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent10">Much Ado about Nothing.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>I do not propose to enter into a description of the mingled feelings +aroused in me by this announcement. As a drowning man is said to live +over in one terrible instant the events of a lifetime, so each word +uttered in my hearing by Mary, from her first introduction to me in her +own room, on the morning of the inquest, to our final conversation on +the night of Mr. Clavering’s call, swept in one wild phantasmagoria +through my brain, leaving me aghast at the signification which her whole +conduct seemed to acquire from the lurid light which now fell upon it.</p> + +<p>“I perceive that I have pulled down an avalanche of doubts about your +ears,” exclaimed my companion from the height of his calm superiority. +“You never thought of this possibility, then, yourself?”</p> + +<p>“Do not ask me what I have thought. I only know I will never believe +your suspicions true. That, however much Mary may have been benefited by +her uncle’s death, she never had a hand in it; actual hand, I mean.”</p> + +<p>“And what makes you so sure of this?”</p> + +<p>“And what makes you so sure of the contrary? It is for you to prove, not +for me to prove her innocence.”</p> + +<p>“Ah,” said Mr. Gryce, in his slow, sarcastic way, “you recollect that +principle of law, do you? If I remember rightly, you have not always +been so punctilious in regarding it, or wishing to have it regarded, +when the question was whether Mr. Clavering was the assassin or not.”</p> + +<p>“But he is a man. It does not seem so dreadful to accuse a man of a +crime. But a woman! and such a woman! I cannot listen to it; it is +horrible. Nothing short of absolute confession on her part will ever +make me believe Mary Leavenworth, or any other woman, committed this +deed. It was too cruel, too deliberate, too——”</p> + +<p>“Read the criminal records,” broke in Mr. Gryce.</p> + +<p>But I was obstinate. “I do not care for the criminal records. All the +criminal records in the world would never make me believe Eleanore +perpetrated this crime, nor will I be less generous towards her cousin. +Mary Leavenworth is a faulty woman, but not a guilty one.”</p> + +<p>“You are more lenient in your judgment of her than her cousin was, it +appears.”</p> + +<p>“I do not understand you,” I muttered, feeling a new and yet more +fearful light breaking upon me.</p> + +<p>“What! have you forgotten, in the hurry of these late events, the +sentence of accusation which we overheard uttered between these ladies +on the morning of the inquest?”</p> + +<p>“No, but——”</p> + +<p>“You believed it to have been spoken by Mary to Eleanore?”</p> + +<p>“Of course; didn’t you?”</p> + +<p>Oh, the smile which crossed Mr. Gryce’s face! “Scarcely. I left that +baby-play for you. I thought one was enough to follow on that tack.”</p> + +<p>The light, the light that was breaking upon me! “And do you mean to say +it was Eleanore who was speaking at that time? That I have been laboring +all these weeks under a terrible mistake, and that you could have +righted me with a word, and did not?”</p> + +<p>“Well, as to that, I had a purpose in letting you follow your own lead +for a while. In the first place, I was not sure myself which spoke; +though I had but little doubt about the matter. The voices are, as you +must have noticed, very much alike, while the attitudes in which we +found them upon entering were such as to be explainable equally by the +supposition that Mary was in the act of launching a denunciation, or in +that of repelling one. So that, while I did not hesitate myself as to +the true explanation of the scene before me, I was pleased to find you +accept a contrary one; as in this way both theories had a chance of +being tested; as was right in a case of so much mystery. You accordingly +took up the affair with one idea for your starting-point, and I with +another. You saw every fact as it developed through the medium of Mary’s +belief in Eleanore’s guilt, and I through the opposite. And what has +been the result? With you, doubt, contradiction, constant unsettlement, +and unwarranted resorts to strange sources for reconcilement between +appearances and your own convictions; with me, growing assurance, and +a belief which each and every development so far has but served to +strengthen and make more probable.”</p> + +<p>Again that wild panorama of events, looks, and words swept before me. +Mary’s reiterated assertions of her cousin’s innocence, Eleanore’s +attitude of lofty silence in regard to certain matters which might be +considered by her as pointing towards the murderer.</p> + +<p>“Your theory must be the correct one,” I finally admitted; “it was +undoubtedly Eleanore who spoke. She believes in Mary’s guilt, and I have +been blind, indeed, not to have seen it from the first.”</p> + +<p>“If Eleanore Leavenworth believes in her cousin’s criminality, she must +have some good reasons for doing so.”</p> + +<p>I was obliged to admit that too. “She did not conceal in her bosom that +telltale key,—found who knows where?—and destroy, or seek to destroy, +it and the letter which introduced her cousin to the public as the +unprincipled destroyer of a trusting man’s peace, for nothing.”</p> + +<p>“No, no.”</p> + +<p>“And yet you, a stranger, a young man who have never seen Mary +Leavenworth in any other light than that in which her coquettish nature +sought to display itself, presume to say she is innocent, in the face of +the attitude maintained from the first by her cousin!”</p> + +<p>“But,” said I, in my great unwillingness to accept his conclusions, +“Eleanore Leavenworth is but mortal. She may have been mistaken in her +inferences. She has never stated what her suspicion was founded upon; +nor can we know what basis she has for maintaining the attitude you +speak of. Clavering is as likely as Mary to be the assassin, for all we +know, and possibly for all she knows.”</p> + +<p>“You seem to be almost superstitious in your belief in Clavering’s +guilt.”</p> + +<p>I recoiled. Was I? Could it be that Mr. Harwell’s fanciful conviction in +regard to this man had in any way influenced me to the detriment of my +better judgment?</p> + +<p>“And you may be right,” Mr. Gryce went on. “I do not pretend to be set +in my notions. Future investigation may succeed in fixing something upon +him; though I hardly think it likely. His behavior as the secret husband +of a woman possessing motives for the commission of a crime has been too +consistent throughout.”</p> + +<p>“All except his leaving her.”</p> + +<p>“No exception at all; for he hasn’t left her.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“I mean that, instead of leaving the country, Mr. Clavering has only +made pretence of doing so. That, in place of dragging himself off to +Europe at her command, he has only changed his lodgings, and can now be +found, not only in a house opposite to hers, but in the window of that +house, where he sits day after day watching who goes in and out of her +front door.”</p> + +<p>I remembered his parting injunction to me, in that memorable interview +we had in my office, and saw myself compelled to put a new construction +upon it.</p> + +<p>“But I was assured at the Hoffman House that he had sailed for Europe, +and myself saw the man who professes to have driven him to the steamer.”</p> + +<p>“Just so.”</p> + +<p>“And Mr. Clavering returned to the city after that?”</p> + +<p>“In another carriage, and to another house.”</p> + +<p>“And you tell me that man is all right?”</p> + +<p>“No; I only say there isn’t the shadow of evidence against him as the +person who shot Mr. Leavenworth.”</p> + +<p>Rising, I paced the floor, and for a few minutes silence fell between +us. But the clock, striking, recalled me to the necessity of the hour, +and, turning, I asked Mr. Gryce what he proposed to do now.</p> + +<p>“There is but one thing I can do,” said he.</p> + +<p>“And that is?”</p> + +<p>“To go upon such lights as I have, and cause the arrest of Miss +Leavenworth.”</p> + +<p>I had by this time schooled myself to endurance, and was able to hear +this without uttering an exclamation. But I could not let it pass +without making one effort to combat his determination.</p> + +<p>“But,” said I, “I do not see what evidence you have, positive enough in +its character, to warrant extreme measures. You have yourself intimated +that the existence of motive is not enough, even though taken with +the fact of the suspected party being in the house at the time of the +murder; and what more have you to urge against Miss Leavenworth?”</p> + +<p>“Pardon me. I said ‘Miss Leavenworth’; I should have said ‘Eleanore +Leavenworth.’”</p> + +<p>“Eleanore? What! when you and all unite in thinking that she alone of +all these parties to the crime is utterly guiltless of wrong?”</p> + +<p>“And yet who is the only one against whom positive testimony of any kind +can be brought.”</p> + +<p>I could but acknowledge that.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Raymond,” he remarked very gravely; “the public is becoming +clamorous; something must be done to satisfy it, if only for the moment. +Eleanore has laid herself open to the suspicion of the police, and +must take the consequences of her action. I am sorry; she is a noble +creature; I admire her; but justice is justice, and though I think her +innocent, I shall be forced to put her under arrest unless——”</p> + +<p>“But I cannot be reconciled to it. It is doing an irretrievable injury +to one whose only fault is an undue and mistaken devotion to an unworthy +cousin. If Mary is the——.”</p> + +<p>“Unless something occurs between now and to-morrow morning,” Mr. Gryce +went on, as if I had not spoken.</p> + +<p>“To-morrow morning?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>I tried to realize it; tried to face the fact that all my efforts had +been for nothing, and failed.</p> + +<p>“Will you not grant me one more day?” I asked in my desperation.</p> + +<p>“What to do?”</p> + +<p>Alas, I did not know. “To confront Mr. Clavering, and force from him the +truth.”</p> + +<p>“To make a mess of the whole affair!” he growled. “No, sir; the die is +cast. Eleanore Leavenworth knows the one point which fixes this +crime upon her cousin, and she must tell us that point or suffer the +consequences of her refusal.”</p> + +<p>I made one more effort.</p> + +<p>“But why to-morrow? Having exhausted so much time already in our +inquiries, why not take a little more; especially as the trail is +constantly growing warmer? A little more moleing——”</p> + +<p>“A little more folderol!” exclaimed Mr. Gryce, losing his temper. “No, +sir; the hour for moleing has passed; something decisive has got to be +done now; though, to be sure, if I could find the one missing link I +want——”</p> + +<p>“Missing link? What is that?”</p> + +<p>“The immediate motive of the tragedy; a bit of proof that Mr. +Leavenworth threatened his niece with his displeasure, or Mr. Clavering +with his revenge, would place me on the vantage-point at once; no +arresting of Eleanore then! No, my lady! I would walk right into your +own gilded parlors, and when you asked me if I had found the murderer +yet, say ‘yes,’ and show you a bit of paper which would surprise you! +But missing links are not so easily found. This has been moled for, and +moled for, as you are pleased to call our system of investigation, and +totally without result. Nothing but the confession of some one of these +several parties to the crime will give us what we want. I will tell you +what I will do,” he suddenly cried. “Miss Leavenworth has desired me to +report to her; she is very anxious for the detection of the murderer, +you know, and offers an immense reward. Well, I will gratify this desire +of hers. The suspicions I have, together with my reasons for them, will +make an interesting disclosure. I should not greatly wonder if they +produced an equally interesting confession.”</p> + +<p>I could only jump to my feet in my horror.</p> + +<p>“At all events, I propose to try it. Eleanore is worth that much risk +any way.”</p> + +<p>“It will do no good,” said I. “If Mary is guilty, she will never confess +it. If not——”</p> + +<p>“She will tell us who is.”</p> + +<p>“Not if it is Clavering, her husband.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; even if it is Clavering, her husband. She has not the devotion of +Eleanore.”</p> + +<p>That I could but acknowledge. She would hide no keys for the sake of +shielding another: no, if Mary were accused, she would speak. The future +opening before us looked sombre enough. And yet when, in a short time +from that, I found myself alone in a busy street, the thought that +Eleanore was free rose above all others, filling and moving me till my +walk home in the rain that day has become a marked memory of my life. +It was only with nightfall that I began to realize the truly critical +position in which Mary stood if Mr. Gryce’s theory was correct. But, +once seized with this thought, nothing could drive it from my mind. +Shrink as I would, it was ever before me, haunting me with the direst +forebodings. Nor, though I retired early, could I succeed in getting +either sleep or rest. All night I tossed on my pillow, saying over to +myself with dreary iteration: “Something must happen, something will +happen, to prevent Mr. Gryce doing this dreadful thing.” Then I would +start up and ask what could happen; and my mind would run over various +contingencies, such as,—Mr. Clavering might confess; Hannah might come +back; Mary herself wake up to her position and speak the word I had more +than once seen trembling on her lips. But further thought showed me how +unlikely any of these things were to happen, and it was with a brain +utterly exhausted that I fell asleep in the early dawn, to dream I saw +Mary standing above Mr. Gryce with a pistol in her hand. I was awakened +from this pleasing vision by a heavy knock at the door. Hastily rising, +I asked who was there. The answer came in the shape of an envelope +thrust under the door. Raising it, I found it to be a note. It was from +Mr. Gryce, and ran thus:</p> + +<p>“Come at once; Hannah Chester is found.”</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>“Hannah found?”</p> + +<p>“So we have reason to think.”</p> + +<p>“When? where? by whom?”</p> + +<p>“Sit down, and I will tell you.”</p> + +<p>Drawing up a chair in a flurry of hope and fear, I sat down by Mr. +Gryce’s side.</p> + +<p>“She is not in the cupboard,” that person dryly assured me, noting +without doubt how my eyes went travelling about the room in my anxiety +and impatience. “We are not absolutely sure that she is anywhere. But +word has come to us that a girl’s face believed to be Hannah’s has been +seen at the upper window of a certain house in—don’t start—R——, +where a year ago she was in the habit of visiting while at the hotel +with the Misses Leavenworth. Now, as it has already been determined that +she left New York the night of the murder, by the — — Railroad, +though for what point we have been unable to ascertain, we consider the +matter worth inquiring into.”</p> + +<p>“But—”</p> + +<p>“If she is there,” resumed Mr. Gryce, “she is secreted; kept very +close. No one except the informant has ever seen her, nor is there any +suspicion among the neighbors of her being in town.”</p> + +<p>“Hannah secreted at a certain house in R——? Whose house?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce honored me with one of his grimmest smiles. “The name of +the lady she’s with is given in the communication as Belden; Mrs. Amy +Belden.”</p> + +<p>“Amy Belden! the name found written on a torn envelope by Mr. +Clavering’s servant girl in London?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>I made no attempt to conceal my satisfaction. “Then we are upon the +verge of some discovery; Providence has interfered, and Eleanore will be +saved! But when did you get this word?”</p> + +<p>“Last night, or rather this morning; Q brought it.”</p> + +<p>“It was a message, then, to Q?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, the result of his moleings while in R——, I suppose.”</p> + +<p>“Whom was it signed by?”</p> + +<p>“A respectable tinsmith who lives next door to Mrs. B.”</p> + +<p>“And is this the first you knew of an Amy Belden living in R——?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Widow or wife?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t know; don’t know anything about her but her name.”</p> + +<p>“But you have already sent Q to make inquiries?”</p> + +<p>“No; the affair is a little too serious for him to manage alone. He is +not equal to great occasions, and might fail just for the lack of a keen +mind to direct him.”</p> + +<p>“In short——”</p> + +<p>“I wish you to go. Since I cannot be there myself, I know of no one else +sufficiently up in the affair to conduct it to a successful issue. +You see, it is not enough to find and identify the girl. The present +condition of things demands that the arrest of so important a witness +should be kept secret. Now, for a man to walk into a strange house in a +distant village, find a girl who is secreted there, frighten her, +cajole her, force her, as the case may be, from her hiding-place to a +detective’s office in New York, and all without the knowledge of the +next-door neighbor, if possible, requires judgment, brains, genius. Then +the woman who conceals her! She must have her reasons for doing so; and +they must be known. Altogether, the affair is a delicate one. Do you +think you can manage it?”</p> + +<p>“I should at least like to try.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce settled himself on the sofa. “To think what pleasure I am +losing on your account!” he grumbled, gazing reproachfully at his +helpless limbs. “But to business. How soon can you start?”</p> + +<p>“Immediately.”</p> + +<p>“Good! a train leaves the depot at 12.15. Take that. Once in R——, +it will be for you to decide upon the means of making Mrs. Belden’s +acquaintance without arousing her suspicions. Q, who will follow you, +will hold himself in readiness to render you any assistance you may +require. Only this thing is to be understood: as he will doubtless go in +disguise, you are not to recognize him, much less interfere with him +and his plans, till he gives you leave to do so, by some preconcerted +signal. You are to work in your way, and he in his, till circumstances +seem to call for mutual support and countenance. I cannot even say +whether you will see him or not; he may find it necessary to keep out of +the way; but you may be sure of one thing, that he will know where +you are, and that the display of, well, let us say a red silk +handkerchief—have you such a thing?”</p> + +<p>“I will get one.”</p> + +<p>“Will be regarded by him as a sign that you desire his presence or +assistance, whether it be shown about your person or at the window of +your room.”</p> + +<p>“And these are all the instructions you can give me?” I said, as he +paused.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I don’t know of anything else. You must depend largely upon your +own discretion, and the exigencies of the moment. I cannot tell you now +what to do. Your own wit will be the best guide. Only, if possible, let +me either hear from you or see you by to-morrow at this time.”</p> + +<p>And he handed me a cipher in case I should wish to telegraph.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="BOOK_III_HANNAH">BOOK III. HANNAH</h2> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXVII_AMY_BELDEN">XXVII. AMY BELDEN</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent4">“A merrier man</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Within the limits of becoming mirth,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I never spent an hour’s talk withal.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent12">Love’s Labour’s Lost.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>I had a client in R—— by the name of Monell; and it was from him I +had planned to learn the best way of approaching Mrs. Belden. When, +therefore, I was so fortunate as to meet him, almost on my arrival, +driving on the long road behind his famous trotter Alfred, I regarded +the encounter as a most auspicious beginning of a very doubtful +enterprise.</p> + +<p>“Well, and how goes the day?” was his exclamation as, the first +greetings passed, we drove rapidly into town.</p> + +<p>“Your part in it goes pretty smoothly,” I returned; and thinking I could +never hope to win his attention to my own affairs till I had satisfied +him in regard to his, I told him all I could concerning the law-suit +then pending; a subject so prolific of question and answer, that we +had driven twice round the town before he remembered he had a letter to +post. As it was an important one, admitting of no delay, we hasted at +once to the post-office, where he went in, leaving me outside to watch +the rather meagre stream of goers and comers who at that time of day +make the post-office of a country town their place of rendezvous. Among +these, for some reason, I especially noted one middle-aged woman; why, I +cannot say; her appearance was anything but remarkable. And yet when +she came out, with two letters in her hand, one in a large and one in a +small envelope, and meeting my eye hastily drew them under her shawl, +I found myself wondering what was in her letters and who she could be, +that the casual glance of a stranger should unconsciously move her to an +action so suspicious. But Mr. Monell’s reappearance at the same moment, +diverted my attention, and in the interest of the conversation that +followed, I soon forgot both the woman and her letters. For determined +that he should have no opportunity to revert to that endless topic, a +law case, I exclaimed with the first crack of the whip,—“There, I knew +there was something I wanted to ask you. It is this: Are you acquainted +with any one is this town by the name of Belden?”</p> + +<p>“There is a widow Belden in town; I don’t know of any other.”</p> + +<p>“Is her first name Amy?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mrs. Amy Belden.”</p> + +<p>“That is the one,” said I. “Who is she, what is she, and what is the +extent of your acquaintance with her?”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said he, “ I cannot conceive why you should be interested in +such an antiquated piece of commonplace goodness as she is, but seeing +you ask, I have no objection to telling you that she is the very +respectable relict of a deceased cabinetmaker of this town; that she +lives in a little house down the street there, and that if you have any +forlorn old tramp to be lodged over night, or any destitute family of +little ones to be looked after, she is the one to go to. As to knowing +her, I know her as I do a dozen other members of our church there up +over the hill. When I see her I speak to her, and that is all.”</p> + +<p>“A respectable widow, you say. Any family?”</p> + +<p>“No; lives alone, has a little income, I believe; must have, to put the +money on the plate she always does; but spends her time in plain sewing +and such deeds of charity, as one with small means but willing heart can +find the opportunity of doing in a town like this. But why in the name +of wonders do you ask?”</p> + +<p>“Business,” said I, “business. Mrs. Belden—don’t mention it by the +way—has got mixed up in a case of mine, and I felt it due to my +curiosity if not to my purse, to find out something about her. And I am +not satisfied yet. The fact is I would give something, Monell, for the +opportunity of studying this woman’s character. Now couldn’t you manage +to get me introduced into her house in some way that would make it +possible and proper for me to converse with her at my leisure? Business +would thank you if you could.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t know; I suppose it could be done. She used to take +lodgers in the summer when the hotel was full, and might be induced +to give a bed to a friend of mine who is very anxious to be near the +post-office on account of a business telegram he is expecting, and which +when it comes will demand his immediate attention.” And Mr. Monell gave +me a sly wink of his eye, little imagining how near the mark he had +struck.</p> + +<p>“You need not say that. Tell her I have a peculiar dislike to sleeping +in a public house, and that you know of no one better fitted to +accommodate me, for the short time I desire to be in town, than +herself.”</p> + +<p>“And what will be said of my hospitality in allowing you under these +circumstances to remain in any other house than my own?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know; very hard things, no doubt; but I guess your hospitality +can stand it.”</p> + +<p>“Well, if you persist, we will see what can be done.” And driving up to +a neat white cottage of homely, but sufficiently attractive appearance, +he stopped.</p> + +<p>“This is her house,” said he, jumping to the ground; “let’s go in and +see what we can do.”</p> + +<p>Glancing up at the windows, which were all closed save the two on the +veranda overlooking the street, I thought to myself, “If she has anybody +in hiding here, whose presence in the house she desires to keep secret, +it is folly to hope she will take me in, however well recommended I may +come.” But, yielding to the example of my friend, I alighted in my turn +and followed him up the short, grass-bordered walk to the front door.</p> + +<p>“As she has no servant, she will come to the door herself, so be ready,” +he remarked as he knocked.</p> + +<p>I had barely time to observe that the curtains to the window at my left +suddenly dropped, when a hasty step made itself heard within, and a +quick hand drew open the door; and I saw before me the woman whom I +had observed at the post-office, and whose action with the letters had +struck me as peculiar. I recognized her at first glance, though she +was differently dressed, and had evidently passed through some worry or +excitement that had altered the expression of her countenance, and +made her manner what it was not at that time, strained and a trifle +uncertain. But I saw no reason for thinking she remembered me. On the +contrary, the look she directed towards me had nothing but inquiry in +it, and when Mr. Monell pushed me forward with the remark, “A friend +of mine; in fact my lawyer from New York,” she dropped a hurried +old-fashioned curtsey whose only expression was a manifest desire to +appear sensible of the honor conferred upon her, through the mist of a +certain trouble that confused everything about her.</p> + +<p>“We have come to ask a favor, Mrs. Belden; but may we not come in? “said +my client in a round, hearty voice well calculated to recall a person’s +thoughts into their proper channel. “I have heard many times of your +cosy home, and am glad of this opportunity of seeing it.” And with a +blind disregard to the look of surprised resistance with which she met +his advance, he stepped gallantly into the little room whose cheery +red carpet and bright picture-hung walls showed invitingly through the +half-open door at our left.</p> + +<p>Finding her premises thus invaded by a sort of French <i>coup d’etat</i>, +Mrs. Belden made the best of the situation, and pressing me to enter +also, devoted herself to hospitality. As for Mr. Monell, he quite +blossomed out in his endeavors to make himself agreeable; so much so, +that I shortly found myself laughing at his sallies, though my heart was +full of anxiety lest, after all, our efforts should fail of the success +they certainly merited. Meanwhile, Mrs. Belden softened more and more, +joining in the conversation with an ease hardly to be expected from one +in her humble circumstances. Indeed, I soon saw she was no common woman. +There was a refinement in her speech and manner, which, combined with +her motherly presence and gentle air, was very pleasing. The last woman +in the world to suspect of any underhanded proceeding, if she had not +shown a peculiar hesitation when Mr. Monell broached the subject of my +entertainment there.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, sir; I would be glad, but,” and she turned a very +scrutinizing look upon me, “the fact is, I have not taken lodgers of +late, and I have got out of the way of the whole thing, and am afraid I +cannot make him comfortable. In short, you will have to excuse me.”</p> + +<p>“But we can’t,” returned Mr. Monell. “What, entice a fellow into a room +like this”—and he cast a hearty admiring glance round the apartment +which, for all its simplicity, both its warm coloring and general air of +cosiness amply merited, “and then turn a cold shoulder upon him when he +humbly entreats the honor of staying a single night in the enjoyment +of its attractions? No, no, Mrs. Belden; I know you too well for that. +Lazarus himself couldn’t come to your door and be turned away; much less +a good-hearted, clever-headed young gentleman like my friend here.”</p> + +<p>“You are very good,” she began, an almost weak love of praise showing +itself for a moment in her eyes; “but I have no room prepared. I have +been house-cleaning, and everything is topsy-turvy Mrs. Wright, now, +over the way——”</p> + +<p>“My young friend is going to stop here,” Mr. Mouell broke in, with frank +positiveness. “If I cannot have him at my own house,—and for certain +reasons it is not advisable,—I shall at least have the satisfaction of +knowing he is in the charge of the best housekeeper in R——.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I put in, but without too great a show of interest; “I should be +sorry, once introduced here, to be obliged to go elsewhere.”</p> + +<p>The troubled eye wavered away from us to the door.</p> + +<p>“I was never called inhospitable,” she commenced; “but everything in +such disorder. What time would you like to come?”</p> + +<p>“I was in hopes I might remain now,” I replied; “I have some letters +to write, and ask nothing better than for leave to sit here and write +them.”</p> + +<p>At the word letters I saw her hand go to her pocket in a movement which +must have been involuntary, for her countenance did not change, and she +made the quick reply:</p> + +<p>“Well, you may. If you can put up with such poor accommodations as I can +offer, it shall not be said I refused you what Mr. Monell is pleased to +call a favor.”</p> + +<p>And, complete in her reception as she had been in her resistance, she +gave us a pleasant smile, and, ignoring my thanks, bustled out with Mr. +Monell to the buggy, where she received my bag and what was, doubtless, +more to her taste, the compliments he was now more than ever ready to +bestow upon her.</p> + +<p>“I will see that a room is got ready for you in a very short space of +time,” she said, upon re-entering. “Meanwhile, make yourself at home +here; and if you wish to write, why I think you will find everything for +the purpose in these drawers.” And wheeling up a table to the easy chair +in which I sat, she pointed to the small compartments beneath, with +an air of such manifest desire to have me make use of anything and +everything she had, that I found myself wondering over my position with +a sort of startled embarrassment that was not remote from shame.</p> + +<p>“Thank you; I have materials of my own,” said I, and hastened to open my +bag and bring out the writing-case, which I always carried with me.</p> + +<p>“Then I will leave you,” said she; and with a quick bend and a short, +hurried look out of the window, she hastily quitted the room.</p> + +<p>I could hear her steps cross the hall, go up two or three stairs, pause, +go up the rest of the flight, pause again, and then pass on. I was left +on the first floor alone.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXVIII_A_WEIRD_EXPERIENCE">XXVIII. A WEIRD EXPERIENCE</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Flat burglary as ever was committed.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent11">Much Ado about Nothing.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>The first thing I did was to inspect with greater care the room in which +I sat.</p> + +<p>It was a pleasant apartment, as I have already said; square, sunny, and +well furnished. On the floor was a crimson carpet, on the walls several +pictures, at the windows, cheerful curtains of white, tastefully +ornamented with ferns and autumn leaves; in one corner an old melodeon, +and in the centre of the room a table draped with a bright cloth, on +which were various little knick-knacks which, without being rich or +expensive, were both pretty and, to a certain extent, ornamental. But +it was not these things, which I had seen repeated in many other country +homes, that especially attracted my attention, or drew me forward in the +slow march which I now undertook around the room. It was the something +underlying all these, the evidences which I found, or sought to find, +not only in the general aspect of the room, but in each trivial object +I encountered, of the character, disposition, and history of the woman +with whom I now had to deal. It was for this reason I studied the +daguerreotypes on the mantel-piece, the books on the shelf, and the +music on the rack; for this and the still further purpose of noting if +any indications were to be found of there being in the house any such +person as Hannah.</p> + +<p>First then, for the little library, which I was pleased to see occupied +one corner of the room. Composed of a few well-chosen books, poetical, +historical, and narrative, it was of itself sufficient to account +for the evidences of latent culture observable in Mrs. Belden’s +conversation. Taking out a well-worn copy of <i>Byron</i>, I opened it. There +were many passages marked, and replacing the book with a mental comment +upon her evident impressibility to the softer emotions, I turned towards +the melodeon fronting me from the opposite wall. It was closed, but on +its neatly-covered top lay one or two hymn-books, a basket of russet +apples, and a piece of half-completed knitting work.</p> + +<p>I took up the latter, but was forced to lay it down again without a +notion for what it was intended. Proceeding, I next stopped before +a window opening upon the small yard that ran about the house, and +separated it from the one adjoining. The scene without failed to attract +me, but the window itself drew my attention, for, written with a diamond +point on one of the panes, I perceived a row of letters which, as +nearly as I could make out, were meant for some word or words, but which +utterly failed in sense or apparent connection. Passing it by as the +work of some school-girl, I glanced down at the work-basket standing on +a table at my side. It was full of various kinds of work, among which I +spied a pair of stockings, which were much too small, as well as in too +great a state of disrepair, to belong to Mrs. Belden; and drawing them +carefully out, I examined them for any name on them. Do not start when I +say I saw the letter H plainly marked upon them. Thrusting them back, +I drew a deep breath of relief, gazing, as I did so, out of the window, +when those letters again attracted my attention.</p> + + +<div class="figcenter illowp70" id="i-260"> +<img class="w100" src="images/i-260.jpg" alt="" /> +<div class="caption p15bot">(Cursive letters)</div> +</div> + + +<p>What could they mean? Idly I began to read them backward, when—But try +for yourself, reader, and judge of my surprise! Elate at the discovery +thus made, I sat down to write my letters. I had barely finished them, +when Mrs. Belden came in with the announcement that supper was ready. +“As for your room,” said she, “I have prepared my own room for your use, +thinking you would like to remain on the first floor.” And, throwing +open a door at my side, she displayed a small, but comfortable room, +in which I could dimly see a bed, an immense bureau, and a shadowy +looking-glass in a dark, old-fashioned frame.</p> + +<p>“I live in very primitive fashion,” she resumed, leading the way into +the dining-room; “but I mean to be comfortable and make others so.”</p> + +<p>“I should say you amply succeeded,” I rejoined, with an appreciative +glance at her well-spread board.</p> + +<p>She smiled, and I felt I had paved the way to her good graces in a way +that would yet redound to my advantage.</p> + +<p>Shall I ever forget that supper! its dainties, its pleasant freedom, its +mysterious, pervading atmosphere of unreality, and the constant sense +which every bountiful dish she pressed upon me brought of the shame of +eating this woman’s food with such feelings of suspicion in my heart! +Shall I ever forget the emotion I experienced when I first perceived +she had something on her mind, which she longed, yet hesitated, to give +utterance to! Or how she started when a cat jumped from the sloping roof +of the kitchen on to the grass-plot at the back of the house; or how my +heart throbbed when I heard, or thought I heard, a board creak overhead! +We were in a long and narrow room which seemed, curiously enough, to run +crosswise of the house, opening on one side into the parlor, and on the +other into the small bedroom, which had been allotted to my use.</p> + +<p>“You live in this house alone, without fear?” I asked, as Mrs. Belden, +contrary to my desire, put another bit of cold chicken on my plate. +“Have you no marauders in this town: no tramps, of whom a solitary woman +like you might reasonably be afraid?”</p> + +<p>“No one will hurt me,” said she; “and no one ever came here for food or +shelter but got it.”</p> + +<p>“I should think, then, that living as you do, upon a railroad, you would +be constantly overrun with worthless beings whose only trade is to take +all they can get without giving a return.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot turn them away. It is the only luxury I have: to feed the +poor.”</p> + +<p>“But the idle, restless ones, who neither will work, nor let others +work——”</p> + +<p>“Are still the poor.”</p> + +<p>Mentally remarking, here is the woman to shield an unfortunate who has +somehow become entangled in the meshes of a great crime, I drew back +from the table. As I did so, the thought crossed me that, in case +there was any such person in the house as Hannah, she would take the +opportunity of going up-stairs with something for her to eat; and that +she might not feel hampered by my presence, I stepped out on the veranda +with my cigar.</p> + +<p>While smoking it, I looked about for Q. I felt that the least token +of his presence in town would be very encouraging at this time. But it +seemed I was not to be afforded even that small satisfaction. If Q was +anywhere near, he was lying very low.</p> + +<p>Once again seated with Mrs. Belden (who I know came down-stairs with an +empty plate, for going into the kitchen for a drink, I caught her in +the act of setting it down on the table), I made up my mind to wait a +reasonable length of time for what she had to say; and then, if she did +not speak, make an endeavor on my own part to surprise her secret.</p> + +<p>But her avowal was nearer and of a different nature from what I +expected, and brought its own train of consequences with it.</p> + +<p>“You are a lawyer, I believe,” she began, taking down her knitting work, +with a forced display of industry.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I said; “that is my profession.”</p> + +<p>She remained for a moment silent, creating great havoc in her work I am +sure, from the glance of surprise and vexation she afterwards threw it. +Then, in a hesitating voice, remarked:</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you may be willing, then, to give me some advice. The truth is, +I am in a very curious predicament; one from which I don’t know how to +escape, and yet which demands immediate action. I should like to tell +you about it; may I?”</p> + +<p>“You may; I shall be only too happy to give you any advice in my power.”</p> + +<p>She drew in her breath with a sort of vague relief, though her forehead +did not lose its frown.</p> + +<p>“It can all be said in a few words. I have in my possession a package of +papers which were intrusted to me by two ladies, with the understanding +that I should neither return nor destroy them without the full +cognizance and expressed desire of both parties, given in person or +writing. That they were to remain in my hands till then, and that +nothing or nobody should extort them from me.”</p> + +<p>“That is easily understood,” said I; for she stopped.</p> + +<p>“But, now comes word from one of the ladies, the one, too, most +interested in the matter, that, for certain reasons, the immediate +destruction of those papers is necessary to her peace and safety.”</p> + +<p>“And do you want to know what your duty is in this case?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she tremulously replied.</p> + +<p>I rose. I could not help it: a flood of conjectures rushing in tumult +over me.</p> + +<p>“It is to hold on to the papers like grim death till released from your +guardianship by the combined wish of both parties.”</p> + +<p>“Is that your opinion as a lawyer?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and as a man. Once pledged in that way, you have no choice. It +would be a betrayal of trust to yield to the solicitations of one party +what you have undertaken to return to both. The fact that grief or loss +might follow your retention of these papers does not release you from +your bond. You have nothing to do with that; besides, you are by no +means sure that the representations of the so-called interested party +are true. You might be doing a greater wrong, by destroying in this way, +what is manifestly considered of value to them both, than by preserving +the papers intact, according to compact.”</p> + +<p>“But the circumstances? Circumstances alter cases; and in short, it +seems to me that the wishes of the one most interested ought to be +regarded, especially as there is an estrangement between these ladies +which may hinder the other’s consent from ever being obtained.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said I; “two wrongs never make a right; nor are we at liberty to +do an act of justice at the expense of an injustice. The papers must be +preserved, Mrs. Belden.”</p> + +<p>Her head sank very despondingly; evidently it had been her wish to +please the interested party. “Law is very hard,” she said; “very hard.”</p> + +<p>“This is not only law, but plain duty,” I remarked. “Suppose a case +different; suppose the honor and happiness of the other party depended +upon the preservation of the papers; where would your duty be then?”</p> + +<p>“But——”</p> + +<p>“A contract is a contract,” said I, “and cannot be tampered with. Having +accepted the trust and given your word, you are obliged to fulfil, to +the letter, all its conditions. It would be a breach of trust for you to +return or destroy the papers without the mutual consent necessary.”</p> + +<p>An expression of great gloom settled slowly over her features. “I +suppose you are right,” said she, and became silent.</p> + +<p>Watching her, I thought to myself, “If I were Mr. Gryce, or even Q, I +would never leave this seat till I had probed this matter to the bottom, +learned the names of the parties concerned, and where those precious +papers are hidden, which she declares to be of so much importance.” But +being neither, I could only keep her talking upon the subject until +she should let fall some word that might serve as a guide to my further +enlightenment; I therefore turned, with the intention of asking her +some question, when my attention was attracted by the figure of a woman +coming out of the back-door of the neighboring house, who, for general +dilapidation and uncouthness of bearing, was a perfect type of the style +of tramp of whom we had been talking at the supper table. Gnawing a +crust which she threw away as she reached the street, she trudged down +the path, her scanty dress, piteous in its rags and soil, flapping in +the keen spring wind, and revealing ragged shoes red with the mud of the +highway.</p> + +<p>“There is a customer that may interest you,” said I.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Belden seemed to awake from a trance. Rising slowly, she looked +out, and with a rapidly softening gaze surveyed the forlorn creature +before her.</p> + +<p>“Poor thing!” she muttered; “but I cannot do much for her to-night. A +good supper is all I can give her.”</p> + +<p>And, going to the front door, she bade her step round the house to the +kitchen, where, in another moment, I heard the rough creature’s voice +rise in one long “Bless you!” that could only have been produced by the +setting before her of the good things with which Mrs. Belden’s larder +seemed teeming.</p> + +<p>But supper was not all she wanted. After a decent length of time, +employed as I should judge in mastication, I heard her voice rise once +more in a plea for shelter.</p> + +<p>“The barn, ma’am, or the wood-house. Any place where I can lie out of +the wind.” And she commenced a long tale of want and disease, so piteous +to hear that I was not at all surprised when Mrs. Belden told me, +upon re-entering, that she had consented, notwithstanding her previous +determination, to allow the woman to lie before the kitchen fire for the +night.</p> + +<p>“She has such an honest eye,” said she; “and charity is my only luxury.”</p> + +<p>The interruption of this incident effectually broke up our conversation. +Mrs. Belden went up-stairs, and for some time I was left alone to ponder +over what I had heard, and determine upon my future course of action. I +had just reached the conclusion that she would be fully as liable to +be carried away by her feelings to the destruction of the papers in her +charge, as to be governed by the rules of equity I had laid down to her, +when I heard her stealthily descend the stairs and go out by the front +door. Distrustful of her intentions, I took up my hat and hastily +followed her. She was on her way down the main street, and my first +thought was, that she was bound for some neighbor’s house or perhaps for +the hotel itself; but the settled swing into which she soon altered her +restless pace satisfied me that she had some distant goal in prospect; +and before long I found myself passing the hotel with its appurtenances, +even the little schoolhouse, that was the last building at this end of +the village, and stepping out into the country beyond. What could it +mean?</p> + +<p>But still her fluttering figure hasted on, the outlines of her form, +with its close shawl and neat bonnet, growing fainter and fainter in the +now settled darkness of an April night; and still I followed, walking on +the turf at the side of the road lest she should hear my footsteps and +look round. At last we reached a bridge. Over this I could hear her +pass, and then every sound ceased. She had paused, and was evidently +listening. It would not do for me to pause too, so gathering myself into +as awkward a shape as possible, I sauntered by her down the road, but +arrived at a certain point, stopped, and began retracing my steps with a +sharp lookout for her advancing figure, till I had arrived once more at +the bridge. She was not there.</p> + +<p>Convinced now that she had discovered my motive for being in her house +and, by leading me from it, had undertaken to supply Hannah with an +opportunity for escape, I was about to hasten back to the charge I had +so incautiously left, when a strange sound heard at my left arrested me. +It came from the banks of the puny stream which ran under the bridge, +and was like the creaking of an old door on worn-out hinges.</p> + +<p>Leaping the fence, I made my way as best I could down the sloping field +in the direction from which the sound came. It was quite dark, and my +progress was slow; so much so, that I began to fear I had ventured upon +a wild-goose chase, when an unexpected streak of lightning shot across +the sky, and by its glare I saw before me what seemed, in the momentary +glimpse I had of it, an old barn. From the rush of waters near at hand, +I judged it to be somewhere on the edge of the stream, and consequently +hesitated to advance, when I heard the sound of heavy breathing near me, +followed by a stir as of some one feeling his way over a pile of loose +boards; and presently, while I stood there, a faint blue light flashed +up from the interior of the barn, and I saw, through the tumbled-down +door that faced me, the form of Mrs. Belden standing with a lighted +match in her hand, gazing round on the four walls that encompassed her. +Hardly daring to breathe, lest I should alarm her, I watched her while +she turned and peered at the roof above her, which was so old as to be +more than half open to the sky, at the flooring beneath, which was in +a state of equal dilapidation, and finally at a small tin box which she +drew from under her shawl and laid on the ground at her feet. The sight +of that box at once satisfied me as to the nature of her errand. She was +going to hide what she dared not destroy; and, relieved upon this point, +I was about to take a step forward when the match went out in her hand. +While she was engaged in lighting another, I considered that perhaps it +would be better for me not to arouse her apprehensions by accosting her +at this time, and thus endanger the success of my main scheme; but +to wait till she was gone, before I endeavored to secure the box. +Accordingly I edged my way up to the side of the barn and waited till +she should leave it, knowing that if I attempted to peer in at the +door, I ran great risk of being seen, owing to the frequent streaks of +lightning which now flashed about us on every side. Minute after minute +went by, with its weird alternations of heavy darkness and sudden +glare; and still she did not come. At last, just as I was about to start +impatiently from my hiding-place, she reappeared, and began to withdraw +with faltering steps toward the bridge. When I thought her quite out of +hearing, I stole from my retreat and entered the barn. It was of course +as dark as Erebus, but thanks to being a smoker I was as well provided +with matches as she had been, and having struck one, I held it up; but +the light it gave was very feeble, and as I did not know just where to +look, it went out before I had obtained more than a cursory glimpse of +the spot where I was. I thereupon lit another; but though I confined my +attention to one place, namely, the floor at my feet, it too went out +before I could conjecture by means of any sign seen there where she had +hidden the box. I now for the first time realized the difficulty before +me. She had probably made up her mind, before she left home, in just +what portion of this old barn she would conceal her treasure; but I had +nothing to guide me: I could only waste matches. And I did waste them. A +dozen had been lit and extinguished before I was so much as sure the box +was not under a pile of debris that lay in one corner, and I had taken +the last in my hand before I became aware that one of the broken boards +of the floor was pushed a little out of its proper position. One match! +and that board was to be raised, the space beneath examined, and the +box, if there, lifted safely out. I concluded not to waste my resources, +so kneeling down in the darkness, I groped for the board, tried it, and +found it to be loose. Wrenching at it with all my strength, I tore it +free and cast it aside; then lighting my match looked into the hole thus +made. Something, I could not tell what, stone or box, met my eye, but +while I reached for it, the match flew out of my hand. Deploring my +carelessness, but determined at all hazards to secure what I had seen, +I dived down deep into the hole, and in another moment had the object of +my curiosity in my hands. It was the box!</p> + +<p>Satisfied at this result of my efforts, I turned to depart, my one wish +now being to arrive home before Mrs. Belden. Was this possible? She had +several minutes the start of me; I would have to pass her on the road, +and in so doing might be recognized. Was the end worth the risk? I +decided that it was.</p> + +<p>Regaining the highway, I started at a brisk pace. For some little +distance I kept it up, neither overtaking nor meeting any one. But +suddenly, at a turn in the road, I came unexpectedly upon Mrs. Belden, +standing in the middle of the path, looking back. Somewhat disconcerted, +I hastened swiftly by her, expecting her to make some effort to stop me. +But she let me pass without a word. Indeed, I doubt now if she even saw +or heard me. Astonished at this treatment, and still more surprised +that she made no attempt to follow me, I looked back, when I saw what +enchained her to the spot, and made her so unmindful of my presence. The +barn behind us was on fire!</p> + +<p>Instantly I realized it was the work of my hands; I had dropped a +half-extinguished match, and it had fallen upon some inflammable +substance.</p> + +<p>Aghast at the sight, I paused in my turn, and stood staring. Higher and +higher the red flames mounted, brighter and brighter glowed the clouds +above, the stream beneath; and in the fascination of watching it all, +I forgot Mrs. Belden. But a short, agitated gasp in my vicinity soon +recalled her presence to my mind, and drawing nearer, I heard her +exclaim like a person speaking in a dream, “Well, I didn’t mean to do +it”; then lower, and with a certain satisfaction in her tone, “But it’s +all right, any way; the thing is lost now for good, and Mary will be +satisfied without any one being to blame.”</p> + +<p>I did not linger to hear more; if this was the conclusion she had come +to, she would not wait there long, especially as the sound of distant +shouts and running feet announced that a crowd of village boys was on +its way to the scene of the conflagration.</p> + +<p>The first thing I did, upon my arrival at the house, was to assure +myself that no evil effects had followed my inconsiderate desertion of +it to the mercies of the tramp she had taken in; the next to retire to +my room, and take a peep at the box. I found it to be a neat tin coffer, +fastened with a lock. Satisfied from its weight that it contained +nothing heavier than the papers of which Mrs. Belden had spoken, I hid +it under the bed and returned to the sitting-room. I had barely taken a +seat and lifted a book when Mrs. Belden came in.</p> + +<p>“Well!” cried she, taking off her bonnet and revealing a face much +flushed with exercise, but greatly relieved in expression; “this <i>is</i> +a night! It lightens, and there is a fire somewhere down street, and +altogether it is perfectly dreadful out. I hope you have not been +lonesome,” she continued, with a keen searching of my face which I +bore in the best way I could. “I had an errand to attend to, but didn’t +expect to stay so long.”</p> + +<p>I returned some nonchalant reply, and she hastened from the room to +fasten up the house.</p> + +<p>I waited, but she did not come back; fearful, perhaps, of betraying +herself, she had retired to her own apartment, leaving me to take care +of myself as best I might. I own that I was rather relieved at this. The +fact is, I did not feel equal to any more excitement that night, and was +glad to put off further action until the next day. As soon, then, as +the storm was over, I myself went to bed, and, after several ineffectual +efforts, succeeded in getting asleep.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXIX_THE_MISSING_WITNESS">XXIX. THE MISSING WITNESS</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“I fled and cried out death.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent11">Milton.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>“Mr. Raymond!”</p> + +<p>The voice was low and searching; it reached me in my dreams, waked me, +and caused me to look up. Morning had begun to break, and by its light I +saw, standing in the open door leading into the dining-room, the forlorn +figure of the tramp who had been admitted into the house the night +before. Angry and perplexed, I was about to bid her be gone, when, to my +great surprise, she pulled out a red handkerchief from her pocket, and I +recognized Q.</p> + +<p>“Read that,” said he, hastily advancing and putting a slip of paper into +my hand. And, without another word or look, left the room, closing the +door behind him.</p> + +<p>Rising in considerable agitation, I took it to the window, and by the +rapidly increasing light, succeeded in making out the rudely scrawled +lines as follows:</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="p15 p15bot">“She is here; I have seen her; in the room marked with a cross in the +accompanying plan. Wait till eight o’clock, then go up. I will contrive +some means of getting Mrs. B—— out of the house.”</p> +</div> + + +<p>Sketched below this was the following plan of the upper floor:</p> + + +<div class="figcenter illowp70" id="i-273"> +<img class="w100" src="images/i-273.jpg" alt="" /> +<div class="caption p15bot">(Upper floor plan)</div> +</div> + + +<p>Hannah, then, was in the small back room over the dining-room, and I had +not been deceived in thinking I had heard steps overhead, the evening +before. Greatly relieved, and yet at the same time much moved at the +near prospect of being brought face to face with one who we had every +reason to believe was acquainted with the dreadful secret involved in +the Leavenworth murder, I lay down once more, and endeavored to catch +another hour’s rest. But I soon gave up the effort in despair, and +contented myself with listening to the sounds of awakening life which +now began to make themselves heard in the house and neighborhood.</p> + +<p>As Q had closed the door after him, I could only faintly hear Mrs. +Belden when she came down-stairs. But the short, surprised exclamation +which she uttered upon reaching the kitchen and finding the tramp gone +and the back-door wide open, came plainly enough to my ears, and for a +moment I was not sure but that Q had made a mistake in thus leaving so +unceremoniously. But he had not studied Mrs. Belden’s character in vain. +As she came, in the course of her preparations for breakfast, into the +room adjoining mine, I could hear her murmur to herself:</p> + +<p>“Poor thing! She has lived so long in the fields and at the roadside, +she finds it unnatural to be cooped up in the house all night.”</p> + +<p>The trial of that breakfast! The effort to eat and appear unconcerned, +to chat and make no mistake,—May I never be called upon to go through +such another! But at last it was over, and I was left free to await +in my own room the time for the dreaded though much-to-be-desired +interview. Slowly the minutes passed; eight o’clock struck, when, just +as the last vibration ceased, there came a loud knock at the back-door, +and a little boy burst into the kitchen, crying at the top of his voice: +“Papa’s got a fit! Oh, Mrs. Belden! papa’s got a fit; do come!”</p> + +<p>Rising, as was natural, I hastened towards the kitchen, meeting Mrs. +Belden’s anxious face in the doorway.</p> + +<p>“A poor wood-chopper down the street has fallen in a fit,” she said. +“Will you please watch over the house while I see what I can do for him? +I won’t be absent any longer than I can help.”</p> + +<p>And almost without waiting for my reply, she caught up a shawl, threw +it over her head, and followed the urchin, who was in a state of great +excitement, out into the street.</p> + +<p>Instantly the silence of death seemed to fill the house, and a dread the +greatest I had ever experienced settled upon me. To leave the kitchen, +go up those stairs, and confront that girl seemed for the moment beyond +my power; but, once on the stair, I found myself relieved from the +especial dread which had overwhelmed me, and possessed, instead, of a +sort of combative curiosity that led me to throw open the door which +I saw at the top with a certain fierceness new to my nature, and not +altogether suitable, perhaps, to the occasion.</p> + +<p>I found myself in a large bedroom, evidently the one occupied by Mrs. +Belden the night before. Barely stopping to note certain evidences of +her having passed a restless night, I passed on to the door leading into +the room marked with a cross in the plan drawn for me by Q. It was a +rough affair, made of pine boards rudely painted. Pausing before it, I +listened. All was still. Raising the latch, I endeavored to enter. The +door was locked. Pausing again, I bent my ear to the keyhole. Not a +sound came from within; the grave itself could not have been stiller. +Awe-struck and irresolute, I looked about me and questioned what I had +best do. Suddenly I remembered that, in the plan Q had given me, I had +seen intimation of another door leading into this same room from the one +on the opposite side of the hall. Going hastily around to it, I tried +it with my hand. But it was as fast as the other. Convinced at last that +nothing was left me but force, I spoke for the first time, and, calling +the girl by name, commanded her to open the door. Receiving no response, +I said aloud with an accent of severity:</p> + +<p>“Hannah Chester, you are discovered; if you do not open the door, we +shall be obliged to break it down; save us the trouble, then, and open +immediately.”</p> + +<p>Still no reply.</p> + +<p>Going back a step, I threw my whole weight against the door. It creaked +ominously, but still resisted.</p> + + +<div class="figcenter illowp70" id="i-276"> +<img class="w100" src="images/i-276.jpg" alt="" /> +<div class="caption p15bot">“I could not prevent a feeling of sickly apprehension from seizing me as I turned towards the silent figure stretched so near”</div> +</div> + + +<p>Stopping only long enough to be sure no movement had taken place within, +I pressed against it once more, this time with all my strength, when it +flew from its hinges, and I fell forward into a room so stifling, chill, +and dark that I paused for a moment to collect my scattered senses +before venturing to look around me. It was well I did so. In another +moment, the pallor and fixity of the pretty Irish face staring upon me +from amidst the tumbled clothes of a bed, drawn up against the wall at +my side, struck me with so deathlike a chill that, had it not been for +that one instant of preparation, I should have been seriously dismayed. +As it was, I could not prevent a feeling of sickly apprehension from +seizing me as I turned towards the silent figure stretched so near, and +observed with what marble-like repose it lay beneath the patchwork quilt +drawn across it, asking myself if sleep could be indeed so like death +in its appearance. For that it was a sleeping woman I beheld, I did not +seriously doubt. There were too many evidences of careless life in the +room for any other inference. The clothes, left just as she had stepped +from them in a circle on the floor; the liberal plate of food placed +in waiting for her on the chair by the door, —food amongst which I +recognized, even in this casual glance, the same dish which we had had +for breakfast —all and everything in the room spoke of robust life and +reckless belief in the morrow.</p> + +<p>And yet so white was the brow turned up to the bare beams of the +unfinished wall above her, so glassy the look of the half-opened eyes, +so motionless the arm lying half under, half over, the edge of the +coverlid that it was impossible not to shrink from contact with a +creature so sunk in unconsciousness. But contact seemed to be necessary; +any cry which I could raise at that moment would be ineffectual enough +to pierce those dull ears. Nerving myself, therefore, I stooped and +lifted the hand which lay with its telltale scar mockingly uppermost, +intending to speak, call, do something, anything, to arouse her. But at +the first touch of her hand on mine an unspeakable horror thrilled me. +It was not only icy cold, but stiff. Dropping it in my agitation, I +started back and again surveyed the face. Great God! when did life ever +look like that? What sleep ever wore such pallid hues, such accusing +fixedness? Bending once more I listened at the lips. Not a breath, nor a +stir. Shocked to the core of my being, I made one final effort. Tearing +down the clothes, I laid my hand upon her heart. It was pulseless as +stone.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXX_BURNED_PAPER">XXX. BURNED PAPER</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“I could have better spared a better man.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent14">Henry IV.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>I do not think I called immediately for help. The awful shock of this +discovery, coming as it did at the very moment life and hope were +strongest within me; the sudden downfall which it brought of all the +plans based upon this woman’s expected testimony; and, worst of all, the +dread coincidence between this sudden death and the exigency in which +the guilty party, whoever it was, was supposed to be at that hour were +much too appalling for instant action. I could only stand and stare at +the quiet face before me, smiling in its peaceful rest as if death +were pleasanter than we think, and marvel over the providence which +had brought us renewed fear instead of relief, complication instead of +enlightenment, disappointment instead of realization. For eloquent as is +death, even on the faces of those unknown and unloved by us, the causes +and consequences of this one were much too important to allow the mind +to dwell upon the pathos of the scene itself. Hannah, the girl, was lost +in Hannah the witness.</p> + +<p>But gradually, as I gazed, the look of expectation which I perceived +hovering about the wistful mouth and half-open lids attracted me, and I +bent above her with a more personal interest, asking myself if she were +quite dead, and whether or not immediate medical assistance would be of +any avail. But the more closely I looked, the more certain I became +that she had been dead for some hours; and the dismay occasioned by this +thought, taken with the regrets which I must ever feel, that I had not +adopted the bold course the evening before, and, by forcing my way to +the hiding-place of this poor creature, interrupted, if not prevented +the consummation of her fate, startled me into a realization of my +present situation; and, leaving her side, I went into the next room, +threw up the window, and fastened to the blind the red handkerchief +which I had taken the precaution to bring with me.</p> + +<p>Instantly a young man, whom I was fain to believe Q, though he bore +not the least resemblance, either in dress or facial expression to +any renderings of that youth which I had yet seen, emerged from the +tinsmith’s house, and approached the one I was in.</p> + +<p>Observing him cast a hurried glance in my direction, I crossed the +floor, and stood awaiting him at the head of the stairs.</p> + +<p>“Well?” he whispered, upon entering the house and meeting my glance from +below; “have you seen her?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I returned bitterly, “I have seen her!”</p> + +<p>He hurriedly mounted to my side. “And she has confessed?”</p> + +<p>“No; I have had no talk with her.” Then, as I perceived him growing +alarmed at my voice and manner, I drew him into Mrs. Belden’s room and +hastily inquired: “What did you mean this morning when you informed me +you had seen this girl? that she was in a certain room where I might +find her?”</p> + +<p>“What I said.”</p> + +<p>“You have, then, been to her room?”</p> + + +<div class="figcenter illowp70" id="i-280"> +<img class="w100" src="images/i-280.jpg" alt="" /> +<div class="caption p15bot">“I crawled up on to the ledge of the slanting roof last night . . . and . . . saw her moving round the room”</div> +</div> + + +<p>“No; I have only been on the outside of it. Seeing a light, I crawled up +on to the ledge of the slanting roof last night while both you and Mrs. +Belden were out, and, looking through the window, saw her moving round +the room.” He must have observed my countenance change, for he stopped. +“What is to pay?” he cried.</p> + +<p>I could restrain myself no longer. “Come,” I said, “and see for +yourself!” And, leading him to the little room I had just left, I +pointed to the silent form lying within. “You told me I should +find Hannah here; but you did not tell me I should find her in this +condition.”</p> + +<p>“Great heaven!” he cried with a start: “not dead?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I said, “dead.”</p> + +<p>It seemed as if he could not realize it. “But it is impossible!” he +returned. “She is in a heavy sleep, has taken a narcotic——”</p> + +<p>“It is not sleep,” I said, “or if it is, she will never wake. Look!” +And, taking the hand once more in mine, I let it fall in its stone +weight upon the bed.</p> + +<p>The sight seemed to convince him. Calming down, he stood gazing at her +with a very strange expression upon his face. Suddenly he moved and +began quietly turning over the clothes that were lying on the floor.</p> + +<p>“What are you doing?” I asked. “What are you looking for?”</p> + +<p>“I am looking for the bit of paper from which I saw her take what I +supposed to be a dose of medicine last night. Oh, here it is!” he cried, +lifting a morsel of paper that, lying on the floor under the edge of the +bed, had hitherto escaped his notice.</p> + +<p>“Let me see!” I anxiously exclaimed.</p> + +<p>He handed me the paper, on the inner surface of which I could dimly +discern the traces of an impalpable white powder.</p> + +<p>“This is important,” I declared, carefully folding the paper together. +“If there is enough of this powder remaining to show that the contents +of this paper were poisonous, the manner and means of the girl’s death +are accounted for, and a case of deliberate suicide made evident.”</p> + +<p>“I am not so sure of that,” he retorted. “If I am any judge of +countenances, and I rather flatter myself I am, this girl had no more +idea she was taking poison than I had. She looked not only bright but +gay; and when she tipped up the paper, a smile of almost silly triumph +crossed her face. If Mrs. Belden gave her that dose to take, telling her +it was medicine——”</p> + +<p>“That is something which yet remains to be learned; also whether the +dose, as you call it, was poisonous or not. It may be she died of heart +disease.”</p> + +<p>He simply shrugged his shoulders, and pointed first at the plate of +breakfast left on the chair, and secondly at the broken-down door.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I said, answering his look, “Mrs. Belden has been in here this +morning, and Mrs. Belden locked the door when she went out; but that +proves nothing beyond her belief in the girl’s hearty condition.”</p> + +<p>“A belief which that white face on its tumbled pillow did not seem to +shake?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps in her haste she may not have looked at the girl, but have set +the dishes down without more than a casual glance in her direction?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to suspect anything wrong, but it is such a coincidence!”</p> + +<p>This was touching me on a sore point, and I stepped back. “Well,” +said I, “there is no use in our standing here busying ourselves with +conjectures. There is too much to be done. Come!” and I moved hurriedly +towards the door.</p> + +<p>“What are you going to do?” he asked. “Have you forgotten this is but +an episode in the one great mystery we are sent here to unravel? If this +girl has come to her death by some foul play, it is our business to find +it out.”</p> + +<p>“That must be left for the coroner. It has now passed out of our hands.”</p> + +<p>“I know; but we can at least take full note of the room and everything +in it before throwing the affair into the hands of strangers. Mr. Gryce +will expect that much of us, I am sure.”</p> + +<p>“I have looked at the room. The whole is photographed on my mind. I am +only afraid I can never forget it.”</p> + +<p>“And the body? Have you noticed its position? the lay of the bed-clothes +around it? the lack there is of all signs of struggle or fear? the +repose of the countenance? the easy fall of the hands?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes; don’t make me look at it any more.”</p> + +<p>“Then the clothes hanging on the wall?”—rapidly pointing out each +object as he spoke. “Do you see? a calico dress, a shawl,—not the +one in which she was believed to have run away, but an old black +one, probably belonging to Mrs. Belden. Then this chest,”—opening +it,—“containing a few underclothes marked,—let us see, ah, with the +name of the lady of the house, but smaller than any she ever wore; +made for Hannah, you observe, and marked with her own name to prevent +suspicion. And then these other clothes lying on the floor, all new, +all marked in the same way. Then this—Halloo! look here!” he suddenly +cried.</p> + +<p>Going over to where he stood I stooped down, when a wash-bowl half full +of burned paper met my eye.</p> + +<p>“I saw her bending over something in this corner, and could not think +what it was. Can it be she is a suicide after all? She has evidently +destroyed something here which she didn’t wish any one to see.”</p> + +<p>“I do not know,” I said. “I could almost hope so.”</p> + +<p>“Not a scrap, not a morsel left to show what it was; how unfortunate!”</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Belden must solve this riddle,” I cried.</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Belden must solve the whole riddle,” he replied; “the secret +of the Leavenworth murder hangs upon it.” Then, with a lingering +look towards the mass of burned paper, “Who knows but what that was a +confession?”</p> + +<p>The conjecture seemed only too probable.</p> + +<p>“Whatever it was,” said I, “it is now ashes, and we have got to accept +the fact and make the best of it.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said he with a deep sigh; “that’s so; but Mr. Gryce will never +forgive me for it, never. He will say I ought to have known it was a +suspicious circumstance for her to take a dose of medicine at the very +moment detection stood at her back.”</p> + +<p>“But she did not know that; she did not see you.”</p> + +<p>“We don’t know what she saw, nor what Mrs. Belden saw. Women are a +mystery; and though I flatter myself that ordinarily I am a match for +the keenest bit of female flesh that ever walked, I must say that in +this case I feel myself thoroughly and shamefully worsted.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well,” I said, “the end has not come yet; who knows what a talk +with Mrs. Belden will bring out? And, by the way, she will be coming +back soon, and I must be ready to meet her. Everything depends upon +finding out, if I can, whether she is aware of this tragedy or not. It +is just possible she knows nothing about it.”</p> + +<p>And, hurrying him from the room, I pulled the door to behind me, and led +the way down-stairs.</p> + +<p>“Now,” said I, “there is one thing you must attend to at once. A +telegram must be sent Mr. Gryce acquainting him with this unlooked-for +occurrence.”</p> + +<p>“All right, sir,” and Q started for the door.</p> + +<p>“Wait one moment,” said I. “I may not have another opportunity to +mention it. Mrs. Belden received two letters from the postmaster +yesterday; one in a large and one in a small envelope; if you could find +out where they were postmarked——”</p> + +<p>Q put his hand in his pocket. “I think I will not have to go far to +find out where one of them came from. Good George, I have lost it!” And +before I knew it, he had returned up-stairs.</p> + +<p>That moment I heard the gate click.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXI_Q">XXXI. Q</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Thereby hangs a tale.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent9">Taming of the Shrew.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>“It was all a hoax; nobody was ill; I have been imposed upon, meanly +imposed upon!” And Mrs. Belden, flushed and panting, entered the room +where I was, and proceeded to take off her bonnet; but whilst doing so +paused, and suddenly exclaimed: “What is the matter? How you look at me! +Has anything happened?”</p> + +<p>“Something very serious has occurred,” I replied; “you have been gone +but a little while, but in that time a discovery has been made—” I +purposely paused here that the suspense might elicit from her some +betrayal; but, though she turned pale, she manifested less emotion than +I expected, and I went on—“which is likely to produce very important +consequences.”</p> + +<p>To my surprise she burst violently into tears. “I knew it, I knew it!” +she murmured. “I always said it would be impossible to keep it secret +if I let anybody into the house; she is so restless. But I forget,” she +suddenly said, with a frightened look; “you haven’t told me what the +discovery was. Perhaps it isn’t what I thought; perhaps——”</p> + +<p>I did not hesitate to interrupt her. “Mrs. Belden,” I said, “I shall not +try to mitigate the blow. A woman who, in the face of the most urgent +call from law and justice, can receive into her house and harbor there a +witness of such importance as Hannah, cannot stand in need of any great +preparation for hearing that her efforts, have been too successful, that +she has accomplished her design of suppressing valuable testimony, that +law and justice are outraged, and that the innocent woman whom this +girl’s evidence might have saved stands for ever compromised in the eyes +of the world, if not in those of the officers of the law.”</p> + +<p>Her eyes, which had never left me during this address, flashed wide with +dismay.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” she cried. “I have intended no wrong; I have only +tried to save people. I—I—But who are you? What have you got to do +with all this? What is it to you what I do or don’t do? You said you +were a lawyer. Can it be you are come from Mary Leavenworth to see how I +am fulfilling her commands, and——”</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Belden,” I said, “it is of small importance now as to who I am, or +for what purpose I am here. But that my words may have the more effect, +I will say, that whereas I have not deceived you, either as to my name +or position, it is true that I am the friend of the Misses Leavenworth, +and that anything which is likely to affect them, is of interest to +me. When, therefore, I say that Eleanore Leavenworth is irretrievably +injured by this girl’s death——”</p> + +<p>“Death? What do you mean? Death!”</p> + +<p>The burst was too natural, the tone too horror-stricken for me to doubt +for another moment as to this woman’s ignorance of the true state of +affairs.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I repeated, “the girl you have been hiding so long and so well is +now beyond your control. Only her dead body remains, Mrs. Belden.”</p> + +<p>I shall never lose from my ears the shriek which she uttered, nor the +wild, “I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it!” with which she dashed +from the room and rushed up-stairs.</p> + +<p>Nor that after-scene when, in the presence of the dead, she stood +wringing her hands and protesting, amid sobs of the sincerest grief and +terror, that she knew nothing of it; that she had left the girl in the +best of spirits the night before; that it was true she had locked her +in, but this she always did when any one was in the house; and that if +she died of any sudden attack, it must have been quietly, for she had +heard no stir all night, though she had listened more than once, being +naturally anxious lest the girl should make some disturbance that would +arouse me.</p> + +<p>“But you were in here this morning?” said I.</p> + +<p>“Yes; but I didn’t notice. I was in a hurry, and thought she was asleep; +so I set the things down where she could get them and came right away, +locking the door as usual.”</p> + +<p>“It is strange she should have died this night of all others. Was she +ill yesterday?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; she was even brighter than common; more lively. I never +thought of her being sick then or ever. If I had——”</p> + +<p>“You never thought of her being sick?” a voice here interrupted. “Why, +then, did you take such pains to give her a dose of medicine last +night?” And Q entered from the room beyond.</p> + +<p>“I didn’t!” she protested, evidently under the supposition it was I who +had spoken. “Did I, Hannah, did I, poor girl?” stroking the hand that +lay in hers with what appeared to be genuine sorrow and regret.</p> + +<p>“How came she by it, then? Where she did she get it if you didn’t give +it to her?”</p> + +<p>This time she seemed to be aware that some one besides myself was +talking to her, for, hurriedly rising, she looked at the man with a +wondering stare, before replying.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know who you are, sir; but I can tell you this, the girl had no +medicine,—took no dose; she wasn’t sick last night that I know of.”</p> + +<p>“Yet I saw her swallow a powder.”</p> + +<p>“Saw her!—the world is crazy, or I am—saw her swallow a powder! How +could you see her do that or anything else? Hasn’t she been shut up in +this room for twenty-four hours?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but with a window like that in the roof, it isn’t so very +difficult to see into the room, madam.”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she cried, shrinking, “I have a spy in the house, have I? But I +deserve it; I kept her imprisoned in four close walls, and never came +to look at her once all night. I don’t complain; but what was it you say +you saw her take? medicine? poison?”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t say poison.”</p> + +<p>“But you meant it. You think she has poisoned herself, and that I had a +hand in it!”</p> + +<p>“No,” I hastened to remark, “he does not think you had a hand in it. He +says he saw the girl herself swallow something which he believes to have +been the occasion of her death, and only asks you now where she obtained +it.”</p> + +<p>“How can I tell? I never gave her anything; didn’t know she had +anything.”</p> + +<p>Somehow, I believed her, and so felt unwilling to prolong the present +interview, especially as each moment delayed the action which I felt it +incumbent upon us to take. So, motioning Q to depart upon his errand, I +took Mrs. Belden by the hand and endeavored to lead her from the +room. But she resisted, sitting down by the side of the bed with the +expression, “I will not leave her again; do not ask it; here is my +place, and here I will stay,” while Q, obdurate for the first time, +stood staring severely upon us both, and would not move, though I urged +him again to make haste, saying that the morning was slipping away, and +that the telegram to Mr. Gryce ought to be sent.</p> + +<p>“Till that woman leaves the room, I don’t; and unless you promise to +take my place in watching her, I don’t quit the house.”</p> + +<p>Astonished, I left her side and crossed to him.</p> + +<p>“You carry your suspicions too far,” I whispered, “and I think you are +too rude. We have seen nothing, I am sure, to warrant us in any such +action; besides, she can do no harm here; though, as for watching her, I +promise to do that much if it will relieve your mind.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t want her watched here; take her below. I cannot leave while she +remains.”</p> + +<p>“Are you not assuming a trifle the master?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps; I don’t know. If I am, it is because I have something in my +possession which excuses my conduct.”</p> + +<p>“What is that? the letter?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>Agitated now in my turn, I held out my hand. “Let me see,” I said.</p> + +<p>“Not while that woman remains in the room.”</p> + +<p>Seeing him implacable, I returned to Mrs. Belden.</p> + +<p>“I must entreat you to come with me,” said I. “This is not a common +death; we shall be obliged to have the coroner here and others. You had +better leave the room and go below.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t mind the coroner; he is a neighbor of mine; his coming won’t +prevent my watching over the poor girl until he arrives.”</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Belden,” I said, “your position as the only one conscious of the +presence of this girl in your house makes it wiser for you not to invite +suspicion by lingering any longer than is necessary in the room where +her dead body lies.”</p> + +<p>“As if my neglect of her now were the best surety of my good intentions +towards her in time past!”</p> + +<p>“It will not be neglect for you to go below with me at my earnest +request. You can do no good here by staying; will, in fact, be doing +harm. So listen to me or I shall be obliged to leave you in charge of +this man and go myself to inform the authorities.”</p> + +<p>This last argument seemed to affect her, for with one look of shuddering +abhorrence at Q she rose, saying, “You have me in your power,” and then, +without another word, threw her handkerchief over the girl’s face and +left the room. In two minutes more I had the letter of which Q had +spoken in my hands.</p> + +<p>“It is the only one I could find, sir. It was in the pocket of the dress +Mrs. Belden had on last night. The other must be lying around somewhere, +but I haven’t had time to find it. This will do, though, I think. You +will not ask for the other.”</p> + +<p>Scarcely noticing at the time with what deep significance he spoke, I +opened the letter. It was the smaller of the two I had seen her draw +under her shawl the day before at the post-office, and read as follows:</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="noindent p15">“DEAR, DEAR FRIEND:</p> + +<p>“I am in awful trouble. You who love me must know it. I cannot +explain, I can only make one prayer. Destroy what you have, +to-day, instantly, without question or hesitation. The consent +of any one else has nothing to do with it. You must obey. I am +lost if you refuse. Do then what I ask, and save</p> + +<p class="right p15bot padr2">“ONE WHO LOVES YOU.”</p> +</div> + + +<p>It was addressed to Mrs. Belden; there was no signature or date, +only the postmark New York; but I knew the handwriting. It was Mary +Leavenworth’s.</p> + +<p>“A damning letter!” came in the dry tones which Q seemed to think fit to +adopt on this occasion. “And a damning bit of evidence against the one +who wrote it, and the woman who received it!”</p> + +<p>“A terrible piece of evidence, indeed,” said I, “if I did not happen to +know that this letter refers to the destruction of something radically +different from what you suspect. It alludes to some papers in Mrs. +Belden’s charge; nothing else.”</p> + +<p>“Are you sure, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Quite; but we will talk of this hereafter. It is time you sent your +telegram, and went for the coroner.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, sir.” And with this we parted; he to perform his role and I +mine.</p> + +<p>I found Mrs. Belden walking the floor below, bewailing her situation, +and uttering wild sentences as to what the neighbors would say of her; +what the minister would think; what Clara, whoever that was, would do, +and how she wished she had died before ever she had meddled with the +affair.</p> + +<p>Succeeding in calming her after a while, I induced her to sit down and +listen to what I had to say. “You will only injure yourself by this +display of feeling,” I remarked, “besides unfitting yourself for what +you will presently be called upon to go through.” And, laying myself out +to comfort the unhappy woman, I first explained the necessities of the +case, and next inquired if she had no friend upon whom she could call in +this emergency.</p> + +<p>To my great surprise she replied no; that while she had kind neighbors +and good friends, there was no one upon whom she could call in a case +like this, either for assistance or sympathy, and that, unless I would +take pity on her, she would have to meet it alone—“As I have met +everything,” she said, “from Mr. Belden’s death to the loss of most of +my little savings in a town fire last year.”</p> + +<p>I was touched by this,—that she who, in spite of her weakness and +inconsistencies of character, possessed at least the one virtue of +sympathy with her kind, should feel any lack of friends. Unhesitatingly, +I offered to do what I could for her, providing she would treat me with +the perfect frankness which the case demanded. To my great relief, she +expressed not only her willingness, but her strong desire, to tell all +she knew. “I have had enough secrecy for my whole life,” she said. +And indeed I do believe she was so thoroughly frightened, that if a +police-officer had come into the house and asked her to reveal secrets +compromising the good name of her own son, she would have done so +without cavil or question. “I feel as if I wanted to take my stand out +on the common, and, in the face of the whole world, declare what I have +done for Mary Leavenworth. But first,” she whispered, “tell me, for +God’s sake, how those girls are situated. I have not dared to ask or +write. The papers say a good deal about Eleanore, but nothing about +Mary; and yet Mary writes of her own peril only, and of the danger she +would be in if certain facts were known. What is the truth? I don’t want +to injure them, only to take care of myself.”</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Belden,” I said, “Eleanore Leavenworth has got into her +present difficulty by not telling all that was required of her. Mary +Leavenworth—but I cannot speak of her till I know what you have to +divulge. Her position, as well as that of her cousin, is too anomalous +for either you or me to discuss. What we want to learn from you is, how +you became connected with this affair, and what it was that Hannah knew +which caused her to leave New York and take refuge here.”</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Belden, clasping and unclasping her hands, met my gaze with one +full of the most apprehensive doubt. “You will never believe me,” she +cried; “but I don’t know what Hannah knew. I am in utter ignorance of +what she saw or heard on that fatal night; she never told, and I never +asked. She merely said that Miss Leavenworth wished me to secrete her +for a short time; and I, because I loved Mary Leavenworth and admired +her beyond any one I ever saw, weakly consented, and——”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean to say,” I interrupted, “that after you knew of the murder, +you, at the mere expression of Miss Leavenworth’s wishes, continued to +keep this girl concealed without asking her any questions or demanding +any explanations?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; you will never believe me, but it is so. I thought that, +since Mary had sent her here, she must have her reasons; and—and—I +cannot explain it now; it all looks so differently; but I did do as I +have said.”</p> + +<p>“But that was very strange conduct. You must have had strong reason for +obeying Mary Leavenworth so blindly.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, sir,” she gasped, “I thought I understood it all; that Mary, the +bright young creature, who had stooped from her lofty position to make +use of me and to love me, was in some way linked to the criminal, and +that it would be better for me to remain in ignorance, do as I was +bid, and trust all would come right. I did not reason about it; I only +followed my impulse. I couldn’t do otherwise; it isn’t my nature. When I +am requested to do anything for a person I love, I cannot refuse.”</p> + +<p>“And you love Mary Leavenworth; a woman whom you yourself seem to +consider capable of a great crime?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I didn’t say that; I don’t know as I thought that. She might be in +some way connected with it, without being the actual perpetrator. She +could never be that; she is too dainty.”</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Belden,” I said, “what do you know of Mary Leavenworth which makes +even that supposition possible?”</p> + +<p>The white face of the woman before me flushed. “I scarcely know what to +reply,” she cried. “It is a long story, and——”</p> + +<p>“Never mind the long story,” I interrupted. “Let me hear the one vital +reason.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said she, “it is this; that Mary was in an emergency from which +nothing but her uncle’s death could release her.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, how’s that?”</p> + +<p>But here we were interrupted by the sound of steps on the porch, and, +looking out, I saw Q entering the house alone. Leaving Mrs. Belden where +she was, I stepped into the hall.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said I, “what is the matter? Haven’t you found the coroner? +Isn’t he at home?”</p> + +<p>“No, gone away; off in a buggy to look after a man that was found some +ten miles from here, lying in a ditch beside a yoke of oxen.” Then, as +he saw my look of relief, for I was glad of this temporary delay, said, +with an expressive wink: “It would take a fellow a long time to go to +him—if he wasn’t in a hurry—hours, I think.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!” I returned, amused at his manner. “Rough road?”</p> + +<p>“Very; no horse I could get could travel it faster than a walk.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said I, “so much the better for us. Mrs. Belden has a long story +to tell, and——”</p> + +<p>“Doesn’t wish to be interrupted. I understand.”</p> + +<p>I nodded and he turned towards the door.</p> + +<p>“Have you telegraphed Mr. Gryce?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think he will come?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; if he has to hobble on two sticks.”</p> + +<p>“At what time do you look for him?”</p> + +<p>“<i>You</i> will look for him as early as three o’clock. I shall be among the +mountains, ruefully eying my broken-down team.” And leisurely donning +his hat he strolled away down the street like one who has the whole day +on his hands and does not know what to do with it.</p> + +<p>An opportunity being thus given for Mrs. Belden’s story, she at once +composed herself to the task, with the following result.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXII_MRS_BELDENS_NARRATIVE">XXXII. MRS. BELDEN’S NARRATIVE</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent3">“Cursed, destructive Avarice,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou everlasting foe to Love and Honor.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent15">Trap’s Abram.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“——Mischief never thrives</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Without the help of Woman.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent12">The Same.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>It will be a year next July since I first saw Mary Leavenworth. I +was living at that time a most monotonous existence. Loving what was +beautiful, hating what was sordid, drawn by nature towards all that +was romantic and uncommon, but doomed by my straitened position and the +loneliness of my widowhood to spend my days in the weary round of plain +sewing, I had begun to think that the shadow of a humdrum old age +was settling down upon me, when one morning, in the full tide of my +dissatisfaction, Mary Leavenworth stepped across the threshold of my +door and, with one smile, changed the whole tenor of my life.</p> + +<p>This may seem exaggeration to you, especially when I say that her errand +was simply one of business, she having heard I was handy with my needle; +but if you could have seen her as she appeared that day, marked the look +with which she approached me, and the smile with which she left, you +would pardon the folly of a romantic old woman, who beheld a fairy queen +in this lovely young lady. The fact is, I was dazzled by her beauty and +her charms. And when, a few days after, she came again, and crouching +down on the stool at my feet, said she was so tired of the gossip and +tumult down at the hotel, that it was a relief to run away and hide with +some one who would let her act like the child she was, I experienced +for the moment, I believe, the truest happiness of my life. Meeting her +advances with all the warmth her manner invited, I found her ere long +listening eagerly while I told her, almost without my own volition, the +story of my past life, in the form of an amusing allegory.</p> + +<p>The next day saw her in the same place; and the next; always with the +eager, laughing eyes, and the fluttering, uneasy hands, that grasped +everything they touched, and broke everything they grasped.</p> + +<p>But the fourth day she was not there, nor the fifth, nor the sixth, and +I was beginning to feel the old shadow settling back upon me, when one +night, just as the dusk of twilight was merging into evening gloom, she +came stealing in at the front door, and, creeping up to my side, put her +hands over my eyes with such a low, ringing laugh, that I started.</p> + +<p>“You don’t know what to make of me!” she cried, throwing aside her +cloak, and revealing herself in the full splendor of evening attire. “I +don’t know what to make of myself. Though it seems folly, I felt that +I must run away and tell some one that a certain pair of eyes have been +looking into mine, and that for the first time in my life I feel +myself a woman as well as a queen.” And with a glance in which coyness +struggled with pride, she gathered up her cloak around her, and +laughingly cried:</p> + +<p>“Have you had a visit from a flying sprite? Has one little ray of +moonlight found its way into your prison for a wee moment, with Mary’s +laugh and Mary’s snowy silk and flashing diamonds? Say!” and she patted +my cheek, and smiled so bewilderingly, that even now, with all the +dull horror of these after-events crowding upon me, I cannot but feel +something like tears spring to my eyes at the thought of it.</p> + +<p>“And so the Prince has come for you?” I whispered, alluding to a story I +had told her the last time she had visited me; a story in which a girl, +who had waited all her life in rags and degradation for the lordly +knight who was to raise her from a hovel to a throne, died just as her +one lover, an honest peasant-lad whom she had discarded in her pride, +arrived at her door with the fortune he had spent all his days in +amassing for her sake.</p> + +<p>But at this she flushed, and drew back towards the door. “I don’t know; +I am afraid not. I—I don’t think anything about that. Princes are not +so easily won,” she murmured.</p> + +<p>“What! are you going?” I said, “and alone? Let me accompany you.”</p> + +<p>But she only shook her fairy head, and replied: “No, no; that would be +spoiling the romance, indeed. I have come upon you like a sprite, and +like a sprite I will go.” And, flashing like the moonbeam she was, she +glided out into the night, and floated away down the street.</p> + +<p>When she next came, I observed a feverish excitement in her manner, +which assured me, even plainer than the coy sweetness displayed in +our last interview, that her heart had been touched by her lover’s +attentions. Indeed, she hinted as much before she left, saying in a +melancholy tone, when I had ended my story in the usual happy way, with +kisses and marriage, “I shall never marry!” finishing the exclamation +with a long-drawn sigh, that somehow emboldened me to say, perhaps +because I knew she had no mother:</p> + +<p>“And why? What reason can there be for such rosy lips saying their +possessor will never marry?”</p> + +<p>She gave me one quick look, and then dropped her eyes. I feared I had +offended her, and was feeling very humble, when she suddenly replied, in +an even but low tone, “I said I should never marry, because the one man +who pleases me can never be my husband.”</p> + +<p>All the hidden romance in my nature started at once into life. “Why not? +What do you mean? Tell me.”</p> + +<p>“There is nothing to tell,” said she; “only I have been so weak as +to”—she would not say, fall in love, she was a proud woman—“admire a +man whom my uncle will never allow me to marry.”</p> + +<p>And she rose as if to go; but I drew her back. “Whom your uncle will not +allow you to marry!” I repeated. “Why? because he is poor?”</p> + +<p>“No; uncle loves money, but not to such an extent as that. Besides, Mr. +Clavering is not poor. He is the owner of a beautiful place in his own +country——”</p> + +<p>“Own country?” I interrupted. “Is he not an American?”</p> + +<p>“No,” she returned; “he is an Englishman.”</p> + +<p>I did not see why she need say that in just the way she did, but, +supposing she was aggravated by some secret memory, went on to inquire: +“Then what difficulty can there be? Isn’t he—” I was going to say +steady, but refrained.</p> + +<p>“He is an Englishman,” she emphasized in the same bitter tone as +before. “In saying that, I say it all. Uncle will never let me marry an +Englishman.”</p> + +<p>I looked at her in amazement. Such a puerile reason as this had never +entered my mind.</p> + +<p>“He has an absolute mania on the subject,” resumed she. “I might as well +ask him to allow me to drown myself as to marry an Englishman.”</p> + +<p>A woman of truer judgment than myself would have said: “Then, if that is +so, why not discard from your breast all thought of him? Why dance with +him, and talk to him, and let your admiration develop into love?” But +I was all romance then, and, angry at a prejudice I could neither +understand nor appreciate, I said:</p> + +<p>“But that is mere tyranny! Why should he hate the English so? And why, +if he does, should you feel yourself obliged to gratify him in a whim so +unreasonable?”</p> + +<p>“Why? Shall I tell you, auntie?” she said, flushing and looking away.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I returned; “tell me everything.”</p> + +<p>“Well, then, if you want to know the worst of me, as you already know +the best, I hate to incur my uncle’s displeasure, because—because—I +have always been brought up to regard myself as his heiress, and I +know that if I were to marry contrary to his wishes, he would instantly +change his mind, and leave me penniless.”</p> + +<p>“But,” I cried, my romance a little dampened by this admission, “you +tell me Mr. Clavering has enough to live upon, so you would not want; +and if you love—”</p> + +<p>Her violet eyes fairly flashed in her amazement.</p> + +<p>“You don’t understand,” she said; “Mr. Clavering is not poor; but uncle +is rich. I shall be a queen—” There she paused, trembling, and falling +on my breast. “Oh, it sounds mercenary, I know, but it is the fault of +my bringing up. I have been taught to worship money. I would be utterly +lost without it. And yet”—her whole face softening with the light of +another emotion, “I cannot say to Henry Clavering, ‘Go! my prospects are +dearer to me than you!’ I cannot, oh, I cannot!”</p> + +<p>“You love him, then?” said I, determined to get at the truth of the +matter if possible.</p> + +<p>She rose restlessly. “Isn’t that a proof of love? If you knew me, you +would say it was.” And, turning, she took her stand before a picture +that hung on the wall of my sitting-room.</p> + +<p>“That looks like me,” she said.</p> + +<p>It was one of a pair of good photographs I possessed.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I remarked, “that is why I prize it.”</p> + +<p>She did not seem to hear me; she was absorbed in gazing at the exquisite +face before her. “That is a winning face,” I heard her say. “Sweeter +than mine. I wonder if she would ever hesitate between love and money. I +do not believe she would,” her own countenance growing gloomy and sad +as she said so; “she would think only of the happiness she would confer; +she is not hard like me. Eleanore herself would love this girl.”</p> + +<p>I think she had forgotten my presence, for at the mention of her +cousin’s name she turned quickly round with a half suspicious look, +saying lightly:</p> + +<p>“My dear old Mamma Hubbard looks horrified. She did not know she had +such a very unromantic little wretch for a listener, when she was +telling all those wonderful stories of Love slaying dragons, and living +in caves, and walking over burning ploughshares as if they were tufts of +spring grass?”</p> + +<p>“No,” I said, taking her with an irresistible impulse of admiring +affection into my arms; “but if I had, it would have made no difference. +I should still have talked about love, and of all it can do to make this +weary workaday world sweet and delightful.”</p> + +<p>“Would you? Then you do not think me such a wretch?”</p> + +<p>What could I say? I thought her the winsomest being in the world, and +frankly told her so. Instantly she brightened into her very gayest self. +Not that I thought then, much less do I think now, she partially +cared for my good opinion; but her nature demanded admiration, and +unconsciously blossomed under it, as a flower under the sunshine.</p> + +<p>“And you will still let me come and tell you how bad I am,—that is, if +I go on being bad, as I doubtless shall to the end of the chapter? You +will not turn me off?”</p> + +<p>“I will never turn you off.”</p> + +<p>“Not if I should do a dreadful thing? Not if I should run away with my +lover some fine night, and leave uncle to discover how his affectionate +partiality had been requited?”</p> + +<p>It was lightly said, and lightly meant, for she did not even wait for my +reply. But its seed sank deep into our two hearts for all that. And for +the next few days I spent my time in planning how I should manage, if +it should ever fall to my lot to conduct to a successful issue so +enthralling a piece of business as an elopement. You may imagine, then, +how delighted I was, when one evening Hannah, this unhappy girl who +is now lying dead under my roof, and who was occupying the position of +lady’s maid to Miss Mary Leavenworth at that time, came to my door with +a note from her mistress, running thus:</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="p15 p15bot">“Have the loveliest story of the season ready for me to-morrow; and +let the prince be as handsome as—as some one you have heard of, +and the princess as foolish as your little yielding pet,</p> + +<p class="right padr2">“MARY.”</p> +</div> + + +<p>Which short note could only mean that she was engaged. But the next day +did not bring me my Mary, nor the next, nor the next; and beyond hearing +that Mr. Leavenworth had returned from his trip I received neither word +nor token. Two more days dragged by, when, just as twilight set in, she +came. It had been a week since I had seen her, but it might have been +a year from the change I observed in her countenance and expression. I +could scarcely greet her with any show of pleasure, she was so unlike +her former self.</p> + +<p>“You are disappointed, are you not?” said she, looking at me. “You +expected revelations, whispered hopes, and all manner of sweet +confidences; and you see, instead, a cold, bitter woman, who for +the first time in your presence feels inclined to be reserved and +uncommunicative.”</p> + +<p>“That is because you have had more to trouble than encourage you in your +love,” I returned, though not without a certain shrinking, caused more +by her manner than words.</p> + +<p>She did not reply to this, but rose and paced the floor, coldly at +first, but afterwards with a certain degree of excitement that proved +to be the prelude to a change in her manner; for, suddenly pausing, she +turned to me and said: “Mr. Clavering has left R——, Mrs. Belden.”</p> + +<p>“Left!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, my uncle commanded me to dismiss him, and I obeyed.”</p> + +<p>The work dropped from my hands, in my heartfelt disappointment. “Ah! +then he knows of your engagement to Mr. Clavering?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; he had not been in the house five minutes before Eleanore told +him.”</p> + +<p>“Then <i>she</i> knew?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” with a half sigh. “She could hardly help it. I was foolish enough +to give her the cue in my first moment of joy and weakness. I did +not think of the consequences; but I might have known. She is so +conscientious.”</p> + +<p>“I do not call it conscientiousness to tell another’s secrets,” I +returned.</p> + +<p>“That is because you are not Eleanore.”</p> + +<p>Not having a reply for this, I said, “And so your uncle did not regard +your engagement with favor?”</p> + +<p>“Favor! Did I not tell you he would never allow me to marry an +Englishman? He said he would sooner see me buried.”</p> + +<p>“And you yielded? Made no struggle? Let the hard, cruel man have his +way?”</p> + +<p>She was walking off to look again at that picture which had attracted +her attention the time before, but at this word gave me one little +sidelong look that was inexpressibly suggestive.</p> + +<p>“I obeyed him when he commanded, if that is what you mean.”</p> + +<p>“And dismissed Mr. Clavering after having given him your word of honor +to be his wife?”</p> + +<p>“Why not, when I found I could not keep my word.”</p> + +<p>“Then you have decided not to marry him?”</p> + +<p>She did not reply at once, but lifted her face mechanically to the +picture.</p> + +<p>“My uncle would tell you that I had decided to be governed wholly by +his wishes!” she responded at last with what I felt was self-scornful +bitterness.</p> + +<p>Greatly disappointed, I burst into tears. “Oh, Mary!” I cried, “Oh, +Mary!” and instantly blushed, startled that I had called her by her +first name.</p> + +<p>But she did not appear to notice.</p> + +<p>“Have you any complaint to make?” she asked. “Is it not my manifest +duty to be governed by my uncle’s wishes? Has he not brought me up from +childhood? lavished every luxury upon me? made me all I am, even to the +love of riches which he has instilled into my soul with every gift he +has thrown into my lap, every word he has dropped into my ear, since I +was old enough to know what riches meant? Is it for me now to turn my +back upon fostering care so wise, beneficent, and free, just because +a man whom I have known some two weeks chances to offer me in exchange +what he pleases to call his love?”</p> + +<p>“But,” I feebly essayed, convinced perhaps by the tone of sarcasm in +which this was uttered that she was not far from my way of thinking +after all, “if in two weeks you have learned to love this man more than +everything else, even the riches which make your uncle’s favor a thing +of such moment—”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said she, “what then?”</p> + +<p>“Why, then I would say, secure your happiness with the man of your +choice, if you have to marry him in secret, trusting to your influence +over your uncle to win the forgiveness he never can persistently deny.”</p> + +<p>You should have seen the arch expression which stole across her face +at that. “Would it not be better,” she asked, creeping to my arms, and +laying her head on my shoulder, “would it not be better for me to make +sure of that uncle’s favor first, before undertaking the hazardous +experiment of running away with a too ardent lover?”</p> + +<p>Struck by her manner, I lifted her face and looked at it. It was one +amused smile.</p> + +<p>“Oh, my darling,” said I, “you have not, then dismissed Mr. Clavering?”</p> + +<p>“I have sent him away,” she whispered demurely.</p> + +<p>“But not without hope?”</p> + +<p>She burst into a ringing laugh.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you dear old Mamma Hubbard; what a matchmaker you are, to be sure! +You appear as much interested as if you were the lover yourself.”</p> + +<p>“But tell me,” I urged.</p> + +<p>In a moment her serious mood returned. “He will wait for me,” said she.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>The next day I submitted to her the plan I had formed for her +clandestine intercourse with Mr. Clavering. It was for them both to +assume names, she taking mine, as one less liable to provoke conjecture +than a strange name, and he that of LeRoy Robbins. The plan pleased +her, and with the slight modification of a secret sign being used on the +envelope, to distinguish her letters from mine, was at once adopted.</p> + +<p>And so it was I took the fatal step that has involved me in all this +trouble. With the gift of my name to this young girl to use as she +would and sign what she would, I seemed to part with what was left me of +judgment and discretion. Henceforth, I was only her scheming, planning, +devoted slave; now copying the letters which she brought me, and +enclosing them to the false name we had agreed upon, and now busying +myself in devising ways to forward to her those which I received from +him, without risk of discovery. Hannah was the medium we employed, as +Mary felt it would not be wise for her to come too often to my house. +To this girl’s charge, then, I gave such notes as I could not forward in +any other way, secure in the reticence of her nature, as well as in her +inability to read, that these letters addressed to Mrs. Amy Belden would +arrive at their proper destination without mishap. And I believe they +always did. At all events, no difficulty that I ever heard of arose out +of the use of this girl as a go-between.</p> + +<p>But a change was at hand. Mr. Clavering, who had left an invalid mother +in England, was suddenly summoned home. He prepared to go, but, flushed +with love, distracted by doubts, smitten with the fear that, once +withdrawn from the neighborhood of a woman so universally courted as +Mary, he would stand small chance of retaining his position in her +regard, he wrote to her, telling his fears and asking her to marry him +before he went.</p> + +<p>“Make me your husband, and I will follow your wishes in all things,” +he wrote. “The certainty that you are mine will make parting possible; +without it, I cannot go; no, not if my mother should die without the +comfort of saying good-bye to her only child.”</p> + +<p>By some chance she was in my house when I brought this letter from the +post-office, and I shall never forget how she started when she read it. +But, from looking as if she had received an insult, she speedily settled +down into a calm consideration of the subject, writing and delivering +into my charge for copying a few lines in which she promised to accede +to his request, if he would agree to leave the public declaration of the +marriage to her discretion, and consent to bid her farewell at the door +of the church or wherever the ceremony of marriage should take place, +never to come into her presence again till such declaration had been +made. Of course this brought in a couple of days the sure response: +“Anything, so you will be mine.”</p> + +<p>And Amy Belden’s wits and powers of planning were all summoned into +requisition for the second time, to devise how this matter could be +arranged without subjecting the parties to the chance of detection. I +found the thing very difficult. In the first place, it was essential +that the marriage should come off within three days, Mr. Clavering +having, upon the receipt of her letter, secured his passage upon a +steamer that sailed on the following Saturday; and, next, both he and +Miss Leavenworth were too conspicuous in their personal appearance to +make it at all possible for them to be secretly married anywhere within +gossiping distance of this place. And yet it was desirable that the +scene of the ceremony should not be too far away, or the time occupied +in effecting the journey to and from the place would necessitate an +absence from the hotel on the part of Miss Leavenworth long enough to +arouse the suspicions of Eleanore; something which Mary felt it wiser +to avoid. Her uncle, I have forgotten to say, was not here—having gone +away again shortly after the apparent dismissal of Mr. Clavering. +F——, then, was the only town I could think of which combined the two +advantages of distance and accessibility. Although upon the railroad, it +was an insignificant place, and had, what was better yet, a very obscure +man for its clergyman, living, which was best of all, not ten rods from +the depot. If they could meet there? Making inquiries, I found that it +could be done, and, all alive to the romance of the occasion, proceeded +to plan the details.</p> + +<p>And now I am coming to what might have caused the overthrow of the +whole scheme: I allude to the detection on the part of Eleanore of the +correspondence between Mary and Mr. Clavering. It happened thus. Hannah, +who, in her frequent visits to my house, had grown very fond of my +society, had come in to sit with me for a while one evening. She had not +been in the house, however, more than ten minutes, before there came a +knock at the front door; and going to it I saw Mary, as I supposed, from +the long cloak she wore, standing before me. Thinking she had come with +a letter for Mr. Clavering, I grasped her arm and drew her into the +hall, saying, “Have you got it? I must post it to-night, or he will not +receive it in time.”</p> + +<p>There I paused, for, the panting creature I had by the arm turning upon +me, I saw myself confronted by a stranger.</p> + +<p>“You have made a mistake,” she cried. “I am Eleanore Leavenworth, and I +have come for my girl Hannah. Is she here?”</p> + +<p>I could only raise my hand in apprehension, and point to the girl +sitting in the corner of the room before her. Miss Leavenworth +immediately turned back.</p> + +<p>“Hannah, I want you,” said she, and would have left the house without +another word, but I caught her by the arm.</p> + +<p>“Oh, miss—” I began, but she gave me such a look, I dropped her arm.</p> + +<p>“I have nothing to say to you!” she cried in a low, thrilling voice. “Do +not detain me.” And, with a glance to see if Hannah were following her, +she went out.</p> + +<p>For an hour I sat crouched on the stair just where she had left me. Then +I went to bed, but I did not sleep a wink that night. You can imagine, +then, my wonder when, with the first glow of the early morning light, +Mary, looking more beautiful than ever, came running up the steps and +into the room where I was, with the letter for Mr. Clavering trembling +in her hand.</p> + +<p>“Oh!” I cried in my joy and relief, “didn’t she understand me, then?”</p> + +<p>The gay look on Mary’s face turned to one of reckless scorn. “If you +mean Eleanore, yes. She is duly initiated, Mamma Hubbard. Knows that I +love Mr. Clavering and write to him. I couldn’t keep it secret after the +mistake you made last evening; so I did the next best thing, told her +the truth.”</p> + +<p>“Not that you were about to be married?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly not. I don’t believe in unnecessary communications.”</p> + +<p>“And you did not find her as angry as you expected?”</p> + +<p>“I will not say that; she was angry enough. And yet,” continued Mary, +with a burst of self-scornful penitence, “I will not call Eleanore’s +lofty indignation anger. She was grieved, Mamma Hubbard, grieved.” And +with a laugh which I believe was rather the result of her own relief +than of any wish to reflect on her cousin, she threw her head on one +side and eyed me with a look which seemed to say, “Do I plague you so +very much, you dear old Mamma Hubbard?”</p> + +<p>She did plague me, and I could not conceal it. “And will she not tell +her uncle?” I gasped.</p> + +<p>The naive expression on Mary’s face quickly changed. “No,” said she.</p> + +<p>I felt a heavy hand, hot with fever, lifted from my heart. “And we can +still go on?”</p> + +<p>She held out the letter for reply.</p> + +<p>The plan agreed upon between us for the carrying out of our intentions +was this. At the time appointed, Mary was to excuse herself to her +cousin upon the plea that she had promised to take me to see a friend +in the next town. She was then to enter a buggy previously ordered, and +drive here, where I was to join her. We were then to proceed immediately +to the minister’s house in F——, where we had reason to believe we +should find everything prepared for us. But in this plan, simple as it +was, one thing was forgotten, and that was the character of Eleanore’s +love for her cousin. That her suspicions would be aroused we did +not doubt; but that she would actually follow Mary up and demand an +explanation of her conduct, was what neither she, who knew her so well, +nor I, who knew her so little, ever imagined possible. And yet that was +just what occurred. But let me explain. Mary, who had followed out the +programme to the point of leaving a little note of excuse on Eleanore’s +dressing-table, had come to my house, and was just taking off her long +cloak to show me her dress, when there came a commanding knock at +the front door. Hastily pulling her cloak about her I ran to open it, +intending, you may be sure, to dismiss my visitor with short ceremony, +when I heard a voice behind me say, “Good heavens, it is Eleanore!” and, +glancing back, saw Mary looking through the window-blind upon the porch +without.</p> + +<p>“What shall we do?” I cried, in very natural dismay.</p> + +<p>“Do? why, open the door and let her in; I am not afraid of Eleanore.”</p> + +<p>I immediately did so, and Eleanore Leavenworth, very pale, but with +a resolute countenance, walked into the house and into this room, +confronting Mary in very nearly the same spot where you are now sitting. +“I have come,” said she, lifting a face whose expression of mingled +sweetness and power I could not but admire, even in that moment of +apprehension, “to ask you without any excuse for my request, if you will +allow me to accompany you upon your drive this morning?”</p> + +<p>Mary, who had drawn herself up to meet some word of accusation or +appeal, turned carelessly away to the glass. “I am very sorry,” she +said, “but the buggy holds only two, and I shall be obliged to refuse.”</p> + +<p>“I will order a carriage.”</p> + +<p>“But I do not wish your company, Eleanore. We are off on a pleasure +trip, and desire to have our fun by ourselves.”</p> + +<p>“And you will not allow me to accompany you?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot prevent your going in another carriage.”</p> + +<p>Eleanore’s face grew yet more earnest in its expression. “Mary,” said +she, “we have been brought up together. I am your sister in affection +if not in blood, and I cannot see you start upon this adventure with no +other companion than this woman. Then tell me, shall I go with you, as a +sister, or on the road behind you as the enforced guardian of your honor +against your will?”</p> + +<p>“My honor?”</p> + +<p>“You are going to meet Mr. Clavering.”</p> + +<p>“Well?”</p> + +<p>“Twenty miles from home.”</p> + +<p>“Well?”</p> + +<p>“Now is it discreet or honorable in you to do this?”</p> + +<p>Mary’s haughty lip took an ominous curve. “The same hand that raised you +has raised me,” she cried bitterly.</p> + +<p>“This is no time to speak of that,” returned Eleanore.</p> + +<p>Mary’s countenance flushed. All the antagonism of her nature was +aroused. She looked absolutely Juno-like in her wrath and reckless +menace. “Eleanore,” she cried, “I am going to F—— to marry Mr. +Clavering! <i>Now</i> do you wish to accompany me?”</p> + +<p>“I do.”</p> + +<p>Mary’s whole manner changed. Leaping forward, she grasped her cousin’s +arm and shook it. “For what reason?” she cried. “What do you intend to +do?”</p> + +<p>“To witness the marriage, if it be a true one; to step between you +and shame if any element of falsehood should come in to affect its +legality.”</p> + +<p>Mary’s hand fell from her cousin’s arm. “I do not understand you,” +said she. “I thought you never gave countenance to what you considered +wrong.”</p> + +<p>“Nor do I. Any one who knows me will understand that I do not give my +approval to this marriage just because I attend its ceremonial in the +capacity of an unwilling witness.”</p> + +<p>“Then why go?”</p> + +<p>“Because I value your honor above my own peace. Because I love our +common benefactor, and know that he would never pardon me if I let his +darling be married, however contrary her union might be to his wishes, +without lending the support of my presence to make the transaction at +least a respectable one.”</p> + +<p>“But in so doing you will be involved in a world of deception—which you +hate.”</p> + +<p>“Any more so than now?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Clavering does not return with me, Eleanore.”</p> + +<p>“No, I supposed not.”</p> + +<p>“I leave him immediately after the ceremony.”</p> + +<p>Eleanore bowed her head.</p> + +<p>“He goes to Europe.” A pause.</p> + +<p>“And I return home.”</p> + +<p>“There to wait for what, Mary?”</p> + +<p>Mary’s face crimsoned, and she turned slowly away.</p> + +<p>“What every other girl does under such circumstances, I suppose. The +development of more reasonable feelings in an obdurate parent’s heart.”</p> + +<p>Eleanore sighed, and a short silence ensued, broken by Eleanore’s +suddenly falling upon her knees, and clasping her cousin’s hand. “Oh, +Mary,” she sobbed, her haughtiness all disappearing in a gush of wild +entreaty, “consider what you are doing! Think, before it is too late, of +the consequences which must follow such an act as this. Marriage founded +upon deception can never lead to happiness. Love—but it is not that. +Love would have led you either to have dismissed Mr. Clavering at once, +or to have openly accepted the fate which a union with him would bring. +Only passion stoops to subterfuge like this. And you,” she continued, +rising and turning toward me in a sort of forlorn hope very touching +to see, “can you see this young motherless girl, driven by caprice, and +acknowledging no moral restraint, enter upon the dark and crooked path +she is planning for herself, without uttering one word of warning and +appeal? Tell me, mother of children dead and buried, what excuse you +will have for your own part in this day’s work, when she, with her +face marred by the sorrows which must follow this deception, comes to +you——”</p> + +<p>“The same excuse, probably,” Mary’s voice broke in, chill and strained, +“which you will have when uncle inquires how you came to allow such an +act of disobedience to be perpetrated in his absence: that she could not +help herself, that Mary would gang her ain gait, and every one around +must accommodate themselves to it.”</p> + +<p>It was like a draught of icy air suddenly poured into a room heated up +to fever point. Eleanore stiffened immediately, and drawing back, pale +and composed, turned upon her cousin with the remark:</p> + +<p>“Then nothing can move you?”</p> + +<p>The curling of Mary’s lips was her only reply.</p> + +<p>Mr. Raymond, I do not wish to weary you with my feelings, but the first +great distrust I ever felt of my wisdom in pushing this matter so far +came with that curl of Mary’s lip. More plainly than Eleanore’s words it +showed me the temper with which she was entering upon this undertaking; +and, struck with momentary dismay, I advanced to speak when Mary stopped +me.</p> + +<p>“There, now, Mamma Hubbard, don’t you go and acknowledge that you +are frightened, for I won’t hear it. I have promised to marry Henry +Clavering to-day, and I am going to keep my word—if I don’t love him,” +she added with bitter emphasis. Then, smiling upon me in a way which +caused me to forget everything save the fact that she was going to her +bridal, she handed me her veil to fasten. As I was doing this, with very +trembling fingers, she said, looking straight at Eleanore:</p> + +<p>“You have shown yourself more interested in my fate than I had any +reason to expect. Will you continue to display this concern all the way +to F——, or may I hope for a few moments of peace in which to dream +upon the step which, according to you, is about to hurl upon me such +dreadful consequences?”</p> + +<p>“If I go with you to F——,” Eleanore returned, “it is as a witness, no +more. My sisterly duty is done.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, then,” Mary said, dimpling with sudden gayety; “I suppose +I shall have to accept the situation. Mamma Hubbard, I am so sorry to +disappoint you, but the buggy <i>won’t</i> hold three. If you are good you +shall be the first to congratulate me when I come home to-night.” And, +almost before I knew it, the two had taken their seats in the buggy that +was waiting at the door. “Good-by,” cried Mary, waving her hand from the +back; “wish me much joy—of my ride.”</p> + +<p>I tried to do so, but the words wouldn’t come. I could only wave my hand +in response, and rush sobbing into the house.</p> + +<p>Of that day, and its long hours of alternate remorse and anxiety, I +cannot trust myself to speak. Let me come at once to the time when, +seated alone in my lamp-lighted room, I waited and watched for the token +of their return which Mary had promised me. It came in the shape of Mary +herself, who, wrapped in her long cloak, and with her beautiful face +aglow with blushes, came stealing into the house just as I was beginning +to despair.</p> + +<p>A strain of wild music from the hotel porch, where they were having a +dance, entered with her, producing such a weird effect upon my fancy +that I was not at all surprised when, in flinging off her cloak, she +displayed garments of bridal white and a head crowned with snowy roses.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mary!” I cried, bursting into tears; “you are then——”</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Henry Clavering, at your service. I’m a bride, Auntie.”</p> + +<p>“Without a bridal,” I murmured, taking her passionately into my embrace.</p> + +<p>She was not insensible to my emotion. Nestling close to me, she gave +herself up for one wild moment to a genuine burst of tears, saying +between her sobs all manner of tender things; telling me how she loved +me, and how I was the only one in all the world to whom she dared come +on this, her wedding night, for comfort or congratulation, and of how +frightened she felt now it was all over, as if with her name she had +parted with something of inestimable value.</p> + +<p>“And does not the thought of having made some one the proudest of men +solace you?” I asked, more than dismayed at this failure of mine to make +these lovers happy.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” she sobbed. “What satisfaction can it be for him to +feel himself tied for life to a girl who, sooner than lose a prospective +fortune, subjected him to such a parting?”</p> + +<p>“Tell me about it,” said I.</p> + +<p>But she was not in the mood at that moment. The excitement of the day +had been too much for her. A thousand fears seemed to beset her mind. +Crouching down on the stool at my feet, she sat with her hands folded +and a glare on her face that lent an aspect of strange unreality to her +brilliant attire. “How shall I keep it secret! The thought haunts me +every moment; how can I keep it secret!”</p> + +<p>“Why, is there any danger of its being known?” I inquired. “Were you +seen or followed?”</p> + +<p>“No,” she murmured. “It all went off well, but——”</p> + +<p>“Where is the danger, then?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot say; but some deeds are like ghosts. They will not be laid; +they reappear; they gibber; they make themselves known whether we will +or not. I did not think of this before. I was mad, reckless, what you +will. But ever since the night has come, I have felt it crushing upon me +like a pall that smothers life and youth and love out of my heart. While +the sunlight remained I could endure it; but now—oh, Auntie, I have +done something that will keep me in constant fear. I have allied myself +to a living apprehension. I have destroyed my happiness.”</p> + +<p>I was too aghast to speak.</p> + +<p>“For two hours I have played at being gay. Dressed in my bridal white, +and crowned with roses, I have greeted my friends as if they were +wedding-guests, and made believe to myself that all the compliments +bestowed upon me—and they are only too numerous—were just so many +congratulations upon my marriage. But it was no use; Eleanore knew it +was no use. She has gone to her room to pray, while I—I have come here +for the first time, perhaps for the last, to fall at some one’s feet and +cry,—‘God have mercy upon me!’”</p> + +<p>I looked at her in uncontrollable emotion. “Oh, Mary, have I only +succeeded, then, in making you miserable?”</p> + +<p>She did not answer; she was engaged in picking up the crown of roses +which had fallen from her hair to the floor.</p> + +<p>“If I had not been taught to love money so!” she said at length. “If, +like Eleanore, I could look upon the splendor which has been ours from +childhood as a mere accessory of life, easy to be dropped at the call of +duty or affection! If prestige, adulation, and elegant belongings were +not so much to me; or love, friendship, and domestic happiness more! +If only I could walk a step without dragging the chain of a thousand +luxurious longings after me. Eleanore can. Imperious as she often is in +her beautiful womanhood, haughty as she can be when the delicate quick +of her personality is touched too rudely, I have known her to sit by the +hour in a low, chilly, ill-lighted and ill-smelling garret, cradling a +dirty child on her knee, and feeding with her own hand an impatient old +woman whom no one else would consent to touch. Oh, oh! they talk about +repentance and a change of heart! If some one or something would only +change mine! But there is no hope of that! no hope of my ever being +anything else than what I am: a selfish, wilful, mercenary girl.”</p> + +<p>Nor was this mood a mere transitory one. That same night she made a +discovery which increased her apprehension almost to terror. This was +nothing less than the fact that Eleanore had been keeping a diary of +the last few weeks. “Oh,” she cried in relating this to me the next day, +“what security shall I ever feel as long as this diary of hers remains +to confront me every time I go into her room? And she will not consent +to destroy it, though I have done my best to show her that it is a +betrayal of the trust I reposed in her. She says it is all she has to +show in the way of defence, if uncle should ever accuse her of treachery +to him and his happiness. She promises to keep it locked up; but what +good will that do! A thousand accidents might happen, any of them +sufficient to throw it into uncle’s hands. I shall never feel safe for a +moment while it exists.”</p> + +<p>I endeavored to calm her by saying that if Eleanore was without malice, +such fears were groundless. But she would not be comforted, and seeing +her so wrought up, I suggested that Eleanore should be asked to trust it +into my keeping till such time as she should feel the necessity of using +it. The idea struck Mary favorably. “O yes,” she cried; “and I will +put my certificate with it, and so get rid of all my care at once.” +And before the afternoon was over, she had seen Eleanore and made her +request.</p> + +<p>It was acceded to with this proviso, that I was neither to destroy nor +give up all or any of the papers except upon their united demand. A +small tin box was accordingly procured, into which were put all the +proofs of Mary’s marriage then existing, viz.: the certificate, Mr. +Clavering’s letters, and such leaves from Eleanore’s diary as referred +to this matter. It was then handed over to me with the stipulation +I have already mentioned, and I stowed it away in a certain closet +up-stairs, where it has lain undisturbed till last night.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Here Mrs. Belden paused, and, blushing painfully, raised her eyes to +mine with a look in which anxiety and entreaty were curiously blended.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know what you will say,” she began, “but, led away by my +fears, I took that box out of its hiding-place last evening and, +notwithstanding your advice, carried it from the house, and it is +now——”</p> + +<p>“In my possession,” I quietly finished.</p> + +<p>I don’t think I ever saw her look more astounded, not even when I told +her of Hannah’s death. “Impossible!” she exclaimed. “I left it last +night in the old barn that was burned down. I merely meant to hide it +for the present, and could think of no better place in my hurry; for the +barn is said to be haunted—a man hung himself there once—and no one +ever goes there. I—I—you cannot have it!” she cried, “unless——”</p> + +<p>“Unless I found and brought it away before the barn was destroyed,” I +suggested.</p> + +<p>Her face flushed deeper. “Then you followed me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said I. Then, as I felt my own countenance redden, hastened to +add: “We have been playing strange and unaccustomed parts, you and I. +Some time, when all these dreadful events shall be a mere dream of the +past, we will ask each other’s pardon. But never mind all this now. The +box is safe, and I am anxious to hear the rest of your story.”</p> + +<p>This seemed to compose her, and after a minute she continued:</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Mary seemed more like herself after this. And though, on account of Mr. +Leavenworth’s return and their subsequent preparations for departure, +I saw but little more of her, what I did see was enough to make me +fear that, with the locking up of the proofs of her marriage, she was +indulging the idea that the marriage itself had become void. But I may +have wronged her in this.</p> + +<p>The story of those few weeks is almost finished. On the eve of the day +before she left, Mary came to my house to bid me good-by. She had a +present in her hand the value of which I will not state, as I did not +take it, though she coaxed me with all her prettiest wiles. But she said +something that night that I have never been able to forget. It was this. +I had been speaking of my hope that before two months had elapsed she +would find herself in a position to send for Mr. Clavering, and that +when that day came I should wish to be advised of it; when she suddenly +interrupted me by saying:</p> + +<p>“Uncle will never be won upon, as you call it, while he lives. If I was +convinced of it before, I am sure of it now. Nothing but his death will +ever make it possible for me to send for Mr. Clavering.” Then, seeing +me look aghast at the long period of separation which this seemed to +betoken, blushed a little and whispered: “The prospect looks somewhat +dubious, doesn’t it? But if Mr. Clavering loves me, he can wait.”</p> + +<p>“But,” said I, “your uncle is only little past the prime of life and +appears to be in robust health; it will be years of waiting, Mary.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” she muttered, “I think not. Uncle is not as strong as he +looks and—” She did not say any more, horrified perhaps at the turn the +conversation was taking. But there was an expression on her countenance +that set me thinking at the time, and has kept me thinking ever since.</p> + +<p>Not that any actual dread of such an occurrence as has since happened +came to oppress my solitude during the long months which now intervened. +I was as yet too much under the spell of her charm to allow anything +calculated to throw a shadow over her image to remain long in my +thoughts. But when, some time in the fall, a letter came to me +personally from Mr. Clavering, filled with a vivid appeal to tell +him something of the woman who, in spite of her vows, doomed him to a +suspense so cruel, and when, on the evening of the same day, a friend +of mine who had just returned from New York spoke of meeting Mary +Leavenworth at some gathering, surrounded by manifest admirers, I began +to realize the alarming features of the affair, and, sitting down, I +wrote her a letter. Not in the strain in which I had been accustomed to +talk to her,—I had not her pleading eyes and trembling, caressing hands +ever before me to beguile my judgment from its proper exercise,—but +honestly and earnestly, telling her how Mr. Clavering felt, and what a +risk she ran in keeping so ardent a lover from his rights. The reply she +sent rather startled me.</p> + +<p>“I have put Mr. Robbins out of my calculations for the present, and +advise you to do the same. As for the gentleman himself, I have told him +that when I could receive him I would be careful to notify him. That day +has not yet come.</p> + +<p>“But do not let him be discouraged,” she added in a postscript. “When he +does receive his happiness, it will be a satisfying one.”</p> + +<p><i>When</i>, I thought. Ah, it is that <i>when</i> which is likely to ruin all! +But, intent only upon fulfilling her will, I sat down and wrote a letter +to Mr. Clavering, in which I stated what she had said, and begged him +to have patience, adding that I would surely let him know if any change +took place in Mary or her circumstances. And, having despatched it to +his address in London, awaited the development of events.</p> + +<p>They were not slow in transpiring. In two weeks I heard of the sudden +death of Mr. Stebbins, the minister who had married them; and while +yet laboring under the agitation produced by this shock, was further +startled by seeing in a New York paper the name of Mr. Clavering among +the list of arrivals at the Hoffman House; showing that my letter to +him had failed in its intended effect, and that the patience Mary had +calculated upon so blindly was verging to its end. I was consequently +far from being surprised when, in a couple of weeks or so afterwards, +a letter came from him to my address, which, owing to the careless +omission of the private mark upon the envelope, I opened, and read +enough to learn that, driven to desperation by the constant failures +which he had experienced in all his endeavors to gain access to her in +public or private, a failure which he was not backward in ascribing +to her indisposition to see him, he had made up his mind to risk +everything, even her displeasure; and, by making an appeal to her uncle, +end the suspense under which he was laboring, definitely and at once. “I +want you,” he wrote; “dowered or dowerless, it makes little difference +to me. If you will not come of yourself, then I must follow the example +of the brave knights, my ancestors; storm the castle that holds you, and +carry you off by force of arms.”</p> + +<p>Neither can I say I was much surprised, knowing Mary as I did, when, in +a few days from this, she forwarded to me for copying, this reply: “If +Mr. Robbins ever expects to be happy with Amy Belden, let him reconsider +the determination of which he speaks. Not only would he by such an +action succeed in destroying the happiness of her he professes to love, +but run the greater risk of effectually annulling the affection which +makes the tie between them endurable.”</p> + +<p>To this there was neither date nor signature. It was the cry of warning +which a spirited, self-contained creature gives when brought to bay. It +made even me recoil, though I had known from the first that her pretty +wilfulness was but the tossing foam floating above the soundless depths +of cold resolve and most deliberate purpose.</p> + +<p>What its real effect was upon him and her fate I can only conjecture. +All I know is that in two weeks thereafter Mr. Leavenworth was found +murdered in his room, and Hannah Chester, coming direct to my door from +the scene of violence, begged me to take her in and secrete her from +public inquiry, as I loved and desired to serve Mary Leavenworth.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXIII_UNEXPECTED_TESTIMONY">XXXIII. UNEXPECTED TESTIMONY</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Pol.</i> What do you read, my lord?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Ham.</i> Words, words, words.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent13">Hamlet.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Mrs. Belden paused, lost in the sombre shadow which these words were +calculated to evoke, and a short silence fell upon the room. It was +broken by my asking for some account of the occurrence she had just +mentioned, it being considered a mystery how Hannah could have found +entrance into her house without the knowledge of the neighbors.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said she, “it was a chilly night, and I had gone to bed early +(I was sleeping then in the room off this) when, at about a quarter to +one—the last train goes through R—— at 12.50—there came a low knock +on the window-pane at the head of my bed. Thinking that some of the +neighbors were sick, I hurriedly rose on my elbow and asked who +was there. The answer came in low, muffled tones, ‘Hannah, Miss +Leavenworth’s girl! Please let me in at the kitchen door.’ Startled at +hearing the well-known voice, and fearing I knew not what, I caught up +a lamp and hurried round to the door. ‘Is any one with you?’ I asked. +‘No,’ she replied. ‘Then come in.’ But no sooner had she done so than +my strength failed me, and I had to sit down, for I saw she looked very +pale and strange, was without baggage, and altogether had the appearance +of some wandering spirit. ‘Hannah!’ I gasped, ‘what is it? what has +happened? what brings you here in this condition and at this time +of night?’ ‘Miss Leavenworth has sent me,’ she replied, in the low, +monotonous tone of one repeating a lesson by rote. ‘She told me to come +here; said you would keep me. I am not to go out of the house, and no +one is to know I am here.’ ‘But why?’ I asked, trembling with a thousand +undefined fears; ‘what has occurred?’ ‘I dare not say,’ she whispered; +‘I am forbid; I am just to stay here, and keep quiet.’ ‘But,’ I began, +helping her to take off her shawl,—the dingy blanket advertised for +in the papers—‘you must tell me. She surely did not forbid you to tell +<i>me</i>?’ ‘Yes she did; every one,’ the girl replied, growing white in her +persistence, ‘and I never break my word; fire couldn’t draw it out +of me.’ She looked so determined, so utterly unlike herself, as I +remembered her in the meek, unobtrusive days of our old acquaintance, +that I could do nothing but stare at her. ‘You will keep me,’ she said; +‘you will not turn me away?’ ‘No,’ I said, ‘I will not turn you away.’ +‘And tell no one?’ she went on. ‘And tell no one,’ I repeated.</p> + +<p>“This seemed to relieve her. Thanking me, she quietly followed me +up-stairs. I put her into the room in which you found her, because it +was the most secret one in the house; and there she has remained ever +since, satisfied and contented, as far as I could see, till this very +same horrible day.”</p> + +<p>“And is that all?” I asked. “Did you have no explanation with her +afterwards? Did she never give you any information in regard to the +transactions which led to her flight?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir. She kept a most persistent silence. Neither then nor when, +upon the next day, I confronted her with the papers in my hand, and the +awful question upon my lips as to whether her flight had been occasioned +by the murder which had taken place in Mr. Leavenworth’s household, did +she do more than acknowledge she had run away on this account. Some one +or something had sealed her lips, and, as she said, ‘Fire and torture +should never make her speak.’”</p> + +<p>Another short pause followed this; then, with my mind still hovering +about the one point of intensest interest to me, I said:</p> + +<p>“This story, then, this account which you have just given me of Mary +Leavenworth’s secret marriage and the great strait it put her +into—a strait from which nothing but her uncle’s death could relieve +her—together with this acknowledgment of Hannah’s that she had left +home and taken refuge here on the insistence of Mary Leavenworth, is the +groundwork you have for the suspicions you have mentioned?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; that and the proof of her interest in the matter which is +given by the letter I received from her yesterday, and which you say you +have now in your possession.”</p> + +<p>Oh, that letter!</p> + +<p>“I know,” Mrs. Belden went on in a broken voice, “that it is wrong, in a +serious case like this, to draw hasty conclusions; but, oh, sir, how can +I help it, knowing what I do?”</p> + +<p>I did not answer; I was revolving in my mind the old question: was it +possible, in face of all these later developments, still to believe Mary +Leavenworth’s own hand guiltless of her uncle’s blood?</p> + +<p>“It is dreadful to come to such conclusions,” proceeded Mrs. Belden, +“and nothing but her own words written in her own hand would ever have +driven me to them, but——”</p> + +<p>“Pardon me,” I interrupted; “but you said in the beginning of this +interview that you did not believe Mary herself had any direct hand in +her uncle’s murder. Are you ready to repeat that assertion?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes, indeed. Whatever I may think of her influence in inducing +it, I never could imagine her as having anything to do with its actual +performance. Oh, no! oh, no! whatever was done on that dreadful night, +Mary Leavenworth never put hand to pistol or ball, or even stood by +while they were used; that you may be sure of. Only the man who loved +her, longed for her, and felt the impossibility of obtaining her by any +other means, could have found nerve for an act so horrible.”</p> + +<p>“Then you think——”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Clavering is the man? I do: and oh, sir, when you consider that he +is her husband, is it not dreadful enough?”</p> + +<p>“It is, indeed,” said I, rising to conceal how much I was affected by +this conclusion of hers.</p> + +<p>Something in my tone or appearance seemed to startle her. “I hope and +trust I have not been indiscreet,” she cried, eying me with something +like an incipient distrust. “With this dead girl lying in my house, I +ought to be very careful, I know, but——”</p> + +<p>“You have said nothing,” was my earnest assurance as I edged towards the +door in my anxiety to escape, if but for a moment, from an atmosphere +that was stifling me. “No one can blame you for anything you have +either said or done to-day. But”—and here I paused and walked hurriedly +back,—“I wish to ask one question more. Have you any reason, beyond +that of natural repugnance to believing a young and beautiful woman +guilty of a great crime, for saying what you have of Henry Clavering, a +gentleman who has hitherto been mentioned by you with respect?”</p> + +<p>“No,” she whispered, with a touch of her old agitation.</p> + +<p>I felt the reason insufficient, and turned away with something of the +same sense of suffocation with which I had heard that the missing key +had been found in Eleanore Leavenworth’s possession. “You must excuse +me,” I said; “I want to be a moment by myself, in order to ponder over +the facts which I have just heard; I will soon return “; and without +further ceremony, hurried from the room.</p> + +<p>By some indefinable impulse, I went immediately up-stairs, and took my +stand at the western window of the large room directly over Mrs. Belden. +The blinds were closed; the room was shrouded in funereal gloom, but +its sombreness and horror were for the moment unfelt; I was engaged in +a fearful debate with myself. Was Mary Leavenworth the principal, or +merely the accessory, in this crime? Did the determined prejudice of Mr. +Gryce, the convictions of Eleanore, the circumstantial evidence even of +such facts as had come to our knowledge, preclude the possibility +that Mrs. Belden’s conclusions were correct? That all the detectives +interested in the affair would regard the question as settled, I did not +doubt; but need it be? Was it utterly impossible to find evidence yet +that Henry Clavering was, after all, the assassin of Mr. Leavenworth?</p> + +<p>Filled with the thought, I looked across the room to the closet where +lay the body of the girl who, according to all probability, had known +the truth of the matter, and a great longing seized me. Oh, why could +not the dead be made to speak? Why should she lie there so silent, so +pulseless, so inert, when a word from her were enough to decide the +awful question? Was there no power to compel those pallid lips to move?</p> + +<p>Carried away by the fervor of the moment, I made my way to her side. Ah, +God, how still! With what a mockery the closed lips and lids confronted +my demanding gaze! A stone could not have been more unresponsive.</p> + +<p>With a feeling that was almost like anger, I stood there, when—what +was it I saw protruding from beneath her shoulders where they crushed +against the bed? An envelope? a letter? Yes.</p> + +<p>Dizzy with the sudden surprise, overcome with the wild hopes this +discovery awakened, I stooped in great agitation and drew the letter +out. It was sealed but not directed. Breaking it hastily open, I took +a glance at its contents. Good heavens! it was the work of the girl +herself!—its very appearance was enough to make that evident! Feeling +as if a miracle had happened, I hastened with it into the other room, +and set myself to decipher the awkward scrawl.</p> + +<p>This is what I saw, rudely printed in lead pencil on the inside of a +sheet of common writing-paper:</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="p15 p15bot">“I am a wicked girl. I have knone things all the time which I had ought +to have told but I didn’t dare to he said he would kill me if I did I +mene the tall splendud looking gentulman with the black mustash who I +met coming out of Mister Levenworth’s room with a key in his hand the +night Mr. Levenworth was murdered. He was so scared he gave me money and +made me go away and come here and keep every thing secret but I can’t do +so no longer. I seem to see Miss Elenor all the time crying and asking +me if I want her sent to prisun. God knows I’d rathur die. And this is +the truth and my last words and I pray every body’s forgivness and hope +nobody will blame me and that they wont bother Miss Elenor any more but +go and look after the handsome gentulman with the black mushtash.”</p> +</div> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="BOOK_IV_THE_PROBLEM_SOLVED">BOOK IV. THE PROBLEM SOLVED</h2> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXIV_MR_GRYCE_RESUMES_CONTROL">XXXIV. MR. GRYCE RESUMES CONTROL</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“It out-herods Herod.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent9">Hamlet.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“A thing devised by the enemy.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent11">Richard III.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + + +<p>A half-hour had passed. The train upon which I had every reason to +expect Mr. Gryce had arrived, and I stood in the doorway awaiting with +indescribable agitation the slow and labored approach of the motley +group of men and women whom I had observed leave the depot at the +departure of the cars. Would he be among them? Was the telegram of a +nature peremptory enough to make his presence here, sick as he was, an +absolute certainty? The written confession of Hannah throbbing against +my heart, a heart all elation now, as but a short half-hour before it +had been all doubt and struggle, seemed to rustle distrust, and the +prospect of a long afternoon spent in impatience was rising before me, +when a portion of the advancing crowd turned off into a side street, +and I saw the form of Mr. Gryce hobbling, not on two sticks, but very +painfully on one, coming slowly down the street.</p> + +<p>His face, as he approached, was a study.</p> + +<p>“Well, well, well,” he exclaimed, as we met at the gate; “this is a +pretty how-dye-do, I must say. Hannah dead, eh? and everything turned +topsy-turvy! Humph, and what do you think of Mary Leavenworth now?”</p> + +<p>It would therefore seem natural, in the conversation which followed his +introduction into the house and installment in Mrs. Belden’s parlor, +that I should begin my narration by showing him Hannah’s confession; but +it was not so. Whether it was that I felt anxious to have him go through +the same alternations of hope and fear it had been my lot to experience +since I came to R——; or whether, in the depravity of human nature, +there lingered within me sufficient resentment for the persistent +disregard he had always paid to my suspicions of Henry Clavering to make +it a matter of moment to me to spring this knowledge upon him just at +the instant his own convictions seemed to have reached the point of +absolute certainty, I cannot say. Enough that it was not till I had +given him a full account of every other matter connected with my stay in +this house; not till I saw his eye beaming, and his lip quivering with +the excitement incident upon the perusal of the letter from Mary, found +in Mrs. Belden’s pocket; not, indeed, until I became assured from such +expressions as “Tremendous! The deepest game of the season! Nothing +like it since the Lafarge affair!” that in another moment he would be +uttering some theory or belief that once heard would forever stand like +a barrier between us, did I allow myself to hand him the letter I had +taken from under the dead body of Hannah.</p> + +<p>I shall never forget his expression as he received it; “Good heavens!” +cried he, “what’s this?”</p> + +<p>“A dying confession of the girl Hannah. I found it lying in her bed when +I went up, a half-hour ago, to take a second look at her.”</p> + +<p>Opening it, he glanced over it with an incredulous air that speedily, +however, turned to one of the utmost astonishment, as he hastily perused +it, and then stood turning it over and over in his hand, examining it.</p> + +<p>“A remarkable piece of evidence,” I observed, not without a certain +feeling of triumph; “quite changes the aspect of affairs!”</p> + +<p>“Think so?” he sharply retorted; then, whilst I stood staring at him in +amazement, his manner was so different from what I expected, looked up +and said: “You tell me that you found this in her bed. Whereabouts in +her bed?”</p> + +<p>“Under the body of the girl herself,” I returned. “I saw one corner of +it protruding from beneath her shoulders, and drew it out.”</p> + +<p>He came and stood before me. “Was it folded or open, when you first +looked at it?”</p> + +<p>“Folded; fastened up in this envelope,” showing it to him.</p> + +<p>He took it, looked at it for a moment, and went on with his questions.</p> + +<p>“This envelope has a very crumpled appearance, as well as the letter +itself. Were they so when you found them?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, not only so, but doubled up as you see.”</p> + +<p>“Doubled up? You are sure of that? Folded, sealed, and then doubled up +as if her body had rolled across it while alive?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“No trickery about it? No look as if the thing had been insinuated there +since her death?”</p> + +<p>“Not at all. I should rather say that to every appearance she held it in +her hand when she lay down, but turning over, dropped it and then laid +upon it.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce’s eyes, which had been very bright, ominously clouded; +evidently he had been disappointed in my answers. Laying the letter +down, he stood musing, but suddenly lifted it again, scrutinized the +edges of the paper on which it was written, and, darting me a quick +look, vanished with it into the shade of the window curtain. His manner +was so peculiar, I involuntarily rose to follow; but he waved me back, +saying:</p> + +<p>“Amuse yourself with that box on the table, which you had such an ado +over; see if it contains all we have a right to expect to find in it. I +want to be by myself for a moment.”</p> + +<p>Subduing my astonishment, I proceeded to comply with his request, but +scarcely had I lifted the lid of the box before me when he came hurrying +back, flung the letter down on the table with an air of the greatest +excitement, and cried:</p> + +<p>“Did I say there had never been anything like it since the Lafarge +affair? I tell you there has never been anything like it in any affair. +It is the rummest case on record! Mr. Raymond,” and his eyes, in his +excitement, actually met mine for the first time in my experience of +him, “prepare yourself for a disappointment. This pretended confession +of Hannah’s is a fraud!”</p> + +<p>“A fraud?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; fraud, forgery, what you will; the girl never wrote it.”</p> + +<p>Amazed, outraged almost, I bounded from my chair. “How do you know +that?” I cried.</p> + +<p>Bending forward, he put the letter into my hand. “Look at it,” said he; +“examine it closely. Now tell me what is the first thing you notice in +regard to it?”</p> + +<p>“Why, the first thing that strikes me, is that the words are printed, +instead of written; something which might be expected from this girl, +according to all accounts.”</p> + +<p>“Well?”</p> + +<p>“That they are printed on the inside of a sheet of ordinary paper——”</p> + +<p>“Ordinary paper?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“That is, a sheet of commercial note of the ordinary quality.”</p> + +<p>“Of course.”</p> + +<p>“But is it?”</p> + +<p>“Why, yes; I should say so.”</p> + +<p>“Look at the lines.”</p> + +<p>“What of them? Oh, I see, they run up close to the top of the page; +evidently the scissors have been used here.”</p> + +<p>“In short, it is a large sheet, trimmed down to the size of commercial +note?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“And is that all you see?”</p> + +<p>“All but the words.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you perceive what has been lost by means of this trimming down?”</p> + +<p>“No, unless you mean the manufacturer’s stamp in the corner.” Mr. +Gryce’s glance took meaning. “But I don’t see why the loss of that +should be deemed a matter of any importance.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you? Not when you consider that by it we seem to be deprived of +all opportunity of tracing this sheet back to the quire of paper from +which it was taken?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Humph! then you are more of an amateur than I thought you. Don’t you +see that, as Hannah could have had no motive for concealing where the +paper came from on which she wrote her dying words, this sheet must have +been prepared by some one else?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said I; “I cannot say that I see all that.”</p> + +<p>“Can’t! Well then, answer me this. Why should Hannah, a girl about to +commit suicide, care whether any clue was furnished, in her confession, +to the actual desk, drawer, or quire of paper from which the sheet was +taken, on which she wrote it?”</p> + +<p>“She wouldn’t.”</p> + +<p>“Yet especial pains have been taken to destroy that clue.”</p> + +<p>“But——”</p> + +<p>“Then there is another thing. Read the confession itself, Mr. Raymond, +and tell me what you gather from it.”</p> + +<p>“Why,” said I, after complying, “that the girl, worn out with constant +apprehension, has made up her mind to do away with herself, and that +Henry Clavering——”</p> + +<p>“Henry Clavering?”</p> + +<p>The interrogation was put with so much meaning, I looked up. “Yes,” said +I.</p> + +<p>“Ah, I didn’t know that Mr. Clavering’s name was mentioned there; excuse +me.”</p> + +<p>“His name is not mentioned, but a description is given so strikingly in +accordance——”</p> + +<p>Here Mr. Gryce interrupted me. “Does it not seem a little surprising to +you that a girl like Hannah should have stopped to describe a man she +knew by name?”</p> + +<p>I started; it was unnatural surely.</p> + +<p>“You believe Mrs. Belden’s story, don’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Consider her accurate in her relation of what took place here a year +ago?”</p> + +<p>“I do.”</p> + +<p>“Must believe, then, that Hannah, the go-between, was acquainted with +Mr. Clavering and with his name?”</p> + +<p>“Undoubtedly.”</p> + +<p>“Then why didn’t she use it? If her intention was, as she here +professes, to save Eleanore Leavenworth from the false imputation which +had fallen upon her, she would naturally take the most direct method +of doing it. This description of a man whose identity she could have at +once put beyond a doubt by the mention of his name is the work, not of +a poor, ignorant girl, but of some person who, in attempting to play the +<i>role</i> of one, has signally failed. But that is not all. Mrs. Belden, +according to you, maintains that Hannah told her, upon entering the +house, that Mary Leavenworth sent her here. But in this document, she +declares it to have been the work of Black Mustache.”</p> + +<p>“I know; but could they not have both been parties to the transaction?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said he; “yet it is always a suspicious circumstance, when there +is a discrepancy between the written and spoken declaration of a person. +But why do we stand here fooling, when a few words from this Mrs. +Belden, you talk so much about, will probably settle the whole matter!”</p> + +<p>“A few words from Mrs. Belden,” I repeated. “I have had thousands +from her to-day, and find the matter no nearer settled than in the +beginning.”</p> + +<p>“<i>You</i> have had,” said he, “but I have not. Fetch her in, Mr. Raymond.”</p> + +<p>I rose. “One thing,” said I, “before I go. What if Hannah had found the +sheet of paper, trimmed just as it is, and used it without any thought +of the suspicions it would occasion!”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” said he, “that is just what we are going to find out.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Belden was in a flutter of impatience when I entered the +sitting-room. When did I think the coroner would come? and what did I +imagine this detective would do for us? It was dreadful waiting there +alone for something, she knew not what.</p> + +<p>I calmed her as well as I could, telling her the detective had not yet +informed me what he could do, having some questions to ask her first. +Would she come in to see him? She rose with alacrity. Anything was +better than suspense.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce, who in the short interim of my absence had altered his mood +from the severe to the beneficent, received Mrs. Belden with just that +show of respectful courtesy likely to impress a woman as dependent as +she upon the good opinion of others.</p> + +<p>“Ah! and this is the lady in whose house this very disagreeable event +has occurred,” he exclaimed, partly rising in his enthusiasm to greet +her. “May I request you to sit,” he asked; “if a stranger may be allowed +to take the liberty of inviting a lady to sit in her own house.”</p> + +<p>“It does not seem like my own house any longer,” said she, but in a sad, +rather than an aggressive tone; so much had his genial way imposed upon +her. “Little better than a prisoner here, go and come, keep silence or +speak, just as I am bidden; and all because an unhappy creature, whom +I took in for the most unselfish of motives, has chanced to die in my +house!”</p> + +<p>“Just so!” exclaimed Mr. Gryce; “it is very unjust. But perhaps we can +right matters. I have every reason to believe we can. This sudden death +ought to be easily explained. You say you had no poison in the house?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“And that the girl never went out?”</p> + +<p>“Never, sir.”</p> + +<p>“And that no one has ever been here to see her?”</p> + +<p>“No one, sir.”</p> + +<p>“So that she could not have procured any such thing if she had wished?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Unless,” he added suavely, “she had it with her when she came here?”</p> + +<p>“That couldn’t have been, sir. She brought no baggage; and as for her +pocket, I know everything there was in it, for I looked.”</p> + +<p>“And what did you find there?”</p> + +<p>“Some money in bills, more than you would have expected such a girl to +have, some loose pennies, and a common handkerchief.”</p> + +<p>“Well, then, it is proved the girl didn’t die of poison, there being +none in the house.”</p> + +<p>He said this in so convinced a tone she was deceived.</p> + +<p>“That is just what I have been telling Mr. Raymond,” giving me a +triumphant look.</p> + +<p>“Must have been heart disease,” he went on, “You say she was well +yesterday?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; or seemed so.”</p> + +<p>“Though not cheerful?”</p> + +<p>“I did not say that; she was, sir, very.”</p> + +<p>“What, ma’am, this girl?” giving me a look. “I don’t understand that. I +should think her anxiety about those she had left behind her in the city +would have been enough to keep her from being very cheerful.”</p> + +<p>“So you would,” returned Mrs. Belden; “but it wasn’t so. On the +contrary, she never seemed to worry about them at all.”</p> + +<p>“What! not about Miss Eleanore, who, according to the papers, stands +in so cruel a position before the world? But perhaps she didn’t know +anything about that—Miss Leavenworth’s position, I mean?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, she did, for I told her. I was so astonished I could not keep +it to myself. You see, I had always considered Eleanore as one above +reproach, and it so shocked me to see her name mentioned in the +newspaper in such a connection, that I went to Hannah and read the +article aloud, and watched her face to see how she took it.”</p> + +<p>“And how did she?”</p> + +<p>“I can’t say. She looked as if she didn’t understand; asked me why I +read such things to her, and told me she didn’t want to hear any more; +that I had promised not to trouble her about this murder, and that if I +continued to do so she wouldn’t listen.”</p> + +<p>“Humph! and what else?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing else. She put her hand over her ears and frowned in such a +sullen way I left the room.”</p> + +<p>“That was when?”</p> + +<p>“About three weeks ago.”</p> + +<p>“She has, however, mentioned the subject since?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; not once.”</p> + +<p>“What! not asked what they were going to do with her mistress?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“She has shown, however, that something was preying on her mind—fear, +remorse, or anxiety?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; on the contrary, she has oftener appeared like one secretly +elated.”</p> + +<p>“But,” exclaimed Mr. Gryce, with another sidelong look at me, “that was +very strange and unnatural. I cannot account for it.”</p> + +<p>“Nor I, sir. I used to try to explain it by thinking her sensibilities +had been blunted, or that she was too ignorant to comprehend the +seriousness of what had happened; but as I learned to know her better, +I gradually changed my mind. There was too much method in her gayety for +that. I could not help seeing she had some future before her for which +she was preparing herself. As, for instance, she asked me one day if I +thought she could learn to play on the piano. And I finally came to the +conclusion she had been promised money if she kept the secret intrusted +to her, and was so pleased with the prospect that she forgot the +dreadful past, and all connected with it. At all events, that was the +only explanation I could find for her general industry and desire to +improve herself, or for the complacent smiles I detected now and then +stealing over her face when she didn’t know I was looking.”</p> + +<p>Not such a smile as crept over the countenance of Mr. Gryce at that +moment, I warrant.</p> + +<p>“It was all this,” continued Mrs. Belden, “which made her death such a +shock to me. I couldn’t believe that so cheerful and healthy a creature +could die like that, all in one night, without anybody knowing anything +about it. But——”</p> + +<p>“Wait one moment,” Mr. Gryce here broke in. “You speak of her endeavors +to improve herself. What do you mean by that?”</p> + +<p>“Her desire to learn things she didn’t know; as, for instance, to write +and read writing. She could only clumsily print when she came here.”</p> + +<p>I thought Mr. Gryce would take a piece out of my arm, he griped it so.</p> + +<p>“When she came here! Do you mean to say that since she has been with you +she has learned to write?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; I used to set her copies and——”</p> + +<p>“Where are these copies?” broke in Mr. Gryce, subduing his voice to its +most professional tone. “And where are her attempts at writing? I’d like +to see some of them. Can’t you get them for us?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, sir. I always made it a point to destroy them as soon as +they had answered their purpose. I didn’t like to have such things lying +around. But I will go see.”</p> + +<p>“Do,” said he; “and I will go with you. I want to take a look at things +up-stairs, any way.” And, heedless of his rheumatic feet, he rose and +prepared to accompany her.</p> + +<p>“This is getting very intense,” I whispered, as he passed me.</p> + +<p>The smile he gave me in reply would have made the fortune of a Thespian +Mephistopheles.</p> + +<p>Of the ten minutes of suspense which I endured in their absence, I say +nothing. At the end of that time they returned with their hands full of +paper boxes, which they flung down on the table.</p> + +<p>“The writing-paper of the household,” observed Mr. Gryce; “every scrap +and half-sheet which could be found. But, before you examine it, look at +this.” And he held out a sheet of bluish foolscap, on which were written +some dozen imitations of that time-worn copy, “BE GOOD AND YOU WILL +BE HAPPY”; with an occasional “<i>Beauty soon fades</i>,” and “<i>Evil +communications corrupt good manners</i>.”</p> + +<p>“What do you think of that?”</p> + +<p>“Very neat and very legible.”</p> + +<p>“That is Hannah’s latest. The only specimens of her writing to be found. +Not much like some scrawls we have seen, eh?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Belden says this girl has known how to write as good as this for +more than a week. Took great pride in it, and was continually talking +about how smart she was.” Leaning over, he whispered in my ear, “This +thing you have in your hand must have been scrawled some time ago, if +she did it.” Then aloud: “But let us look at the paper she used to write +on.”</p> + +<p>Dashing open the covers of the boxes on the table, he took out the loose +sheets lying inside, and scattered them out before me. One glance showed +they were all of an utterly different quality from that used in the +confession. “This is all the paper in the house,” said he.</p> + +<p>“Are you sure of that?” I asked, looking at Mrs. Belden, who stood in +a sort of maze before us. “Wasn’t there one stray sheet lying around +somewhere, foolscap or something like that, which she might have got +hold of and used without your knowing it?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; I don’t think so. I had only these kinds; besides, Hannah had +a whole pile of paper like this in her room, and wouldn’t have been apt +to go hunting round after any stray sheets.”</p> + +<p>“But you don’t know what a girl like that might do. Look at this one,” +said I, showing her the blank side of the confession. “Couldn’t a sheet +like this have come from somewhere about the house? Examine it well; the +matter is important.”</p> + +<p>“I have, and I say, no, I never had a sheet of paper like that in my +house.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce advanced and took the confession from my hand. As he did so, +he whispered: “What do you think now? Many chances that Hannah got up +this precious document?”</p> + +<p>I shook my head, convinced at last; but in another moment turned to him +and whispered back: “But, if Hannah didn’t write it, who did? And how +came it to be found where it was?”</p> + +<p>“That,” said he, “is just what is left for us to learn.” And, beginning +again, he put question after question concerning the girl’s life in the +house, receiving answers which only tended to show that she could not +have brought the confession with her, much less received it from a +secret messenger. Unless we doubted Mrs. Belden’s word, the mystery +seemed impenetrable, and I was beginning to despair of success, when Mr. +Gryce, with an askance look at me, leaned towards Mrs. Belden and said:</p> + +<p>“You received a letter from Miss Mary Leavenworth yesterday, I hear.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“<i>This</i> letter?” he continued, showing it to her.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Now I want to ask you a question. Was the letter, as you see it, the +only contents of the envelope in which it came? Wasn’t there one for +Hannah enclosed with it?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir. There was nothing in my letter for her; but she had a letter +herself yesterday. It came in the same mail with mine.”</p> + +<p>“Hannah had a letter!” we both exclaimed; “and in the mail?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but it was not directed to her. It was”—casting me a look full of +despair, “directed to me. It was only by a certain mark in the corner of +the envelope that I knew——”</p> + +<p>“Good heaven!” I interrupted; “where is this letter? Why didn’t you +speak of it before? What do you mean by allowing us to flounder about +here in the dark, when a glimpse at this letter might have set us right +at once?”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t think anything about it till this minute. I didn’t know it was +of importance. I——”</p> + +<p>But I couldn’t restrain myself. “Mrs. Belden, where is this letter?” I +demanded. “Have you got it?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said she; “I gave it to the girl yesterday; I haven’t seen it +since.”</p> + +<p>“It must be up-stairs, then. Let us take another look.” and I hastened +towards the door.</p> + +<p>“You won’t find it,” said Mr. Gryce at my elbow. “I have looked. There +is nothing but a pile of burned paper in the corner. By the way, what +could that have been?” he asked of Mrs. Belden.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, sir. She hadn’t anything to burn unless it was the +letter.”</p> + +<p>“We will see about that,” I muttered, hurrying up-stairs and bringing +down the wash-bowl with its contents. “If the letter was the one I saw +in your hand at the post-office, it was in a yellow envelope.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Yellow envelopes burn differently from white paper. I ought to be able +to tell the tinder made by a yellow envelope when I see it. Ah, the +letter has been destroyed; here is a piece of the envelope,” and I drew +out of the heap of charred scraps a small bit less burnt than the rest, +and held it up.</p> + +<p>“Then there is no use looking here for what the letter contained,” said +Mr. Gryce, putting the wash-bowl aside. “We will have to ask you, Mrs. +Belden.”</p> + +<p>“But I don’t know. It was directed to me, to be sure; but Hannah told +me, when she first requested me to teach her how to write, that she +expected such a letter, so I didn’t open it when it came, but gave it to +her just as it was.”</p> + +<p>“You, however, stayed by to see her read it?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; I was in too much of a flurry. Mr. Raymond had just come and I +had no time to think of her. My own letter, too, was troubling me.”</p> + +<p>“But you surely asked her some questions about it before the day was +out?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, when I went up with her tea things; but she had nothing +to say. Hannah could be as reticent as any one I ever knew, when she +pleased. She didn’t even admit it was from her mistress.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! then you thought it was from Miss Leavenworth?”</p> + +<p>“Why, yes, sir; what else was I to think, seeing that mark in the +corner? Though, to be sure, it might have been put there by Mr. +Clavering,” she thoughtfully added.</p> + +<p>“You say she was cheerful yesterday; was she so after receiving this +letter?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; as far as I could see. I wasn’t with her long; the necessity +I felt of doing something with the box in my charge—but perhaps Mr. +Raymond has told you?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce nodded.</p> + +<p>“It was an exhausting evening, and quite put Hannah out of my head, +but——”</p> + +<p>“Wait!” cried Mr. Gryce, and beckoning me into a corner, he whispered, +“Now comes in that experience of Q’s. While you are gone from the house, +and before Mrs. Belden sees Hannah again, he has a glimpse of the girl +bending over something in the corner of her room which may very fairly +be the wash-bowl we found there. After which, he sees her swallow, in +the most lively way, a dose of something from a bit of paper. Was there +anything more?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said I.</p> + +<p>“Very well, then,” he cried, going back to Mrs. Belden. “But——”</p> + +<p>“But when I went up-stairs to bed, I thought of the girl, and going to +her door opened it. The light was extinguished, and she seemed asleep, +so I closed it again and came out.”</p> + +<p>“Without speaking?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Did you notice how she was lying?”</p> + +<p>“Not particularly. I think on her back.”</p> + +<p>“In something of the same position in which she was found this morning?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“And that is all you can tell us, either of her letter or her mysterious +death?”</p> + +<p>“All, sir.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce straightened himself up.</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Belden,” said he, “you know Mr. Clavering’s handwriting when <i>you</i> +see it?”</p> + +<p>“I do.”</p> + +<p>“And Miss Leavenworth’s?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Now, which of the two was upon the envelope of the letter you gave +Hannah?”</p> + +<p>“I couldn’t say. It was a disguised handwriting and might have been that +of either; but I think——”</p> + +<p>“Well?”</p> + +<p>“That it was more like hers than his, though it wasn’t like hers +either.”</p> + +<p>With a smile, Mr. Gryce enclosed the confession in his hand in the +envelope in which it had been found. “You remember how large the letter +was which you gave her?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it was large, very large; one of the largest sort.”</p> + +<p>“And thick?”</p> + +<p>“O yes; thick enough for two letters.”</p> + +<p>“Large enough and thick enough to contain this?” laying the confession, +folded and enveloped as it was, before her.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” giving it a look of startled amazement, “large enough and +thick enough to contain that.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce’s eyes, bright as diamonds, flashed around the room, and +finally settled upon a fly traversing my coat-sleeve. “Do you need to +ask now,” he whispered, in a low voice, “where, and from whom, this +so-called confession comes?”</p> + +<p>He allowed himself one moment of silent triumph, then rising, began +folding the papers on the table and putting them in his pocket.</p> + +<p>“What are you going to do?” I asked, hurriedly approaching.</p> + +<p>He took me by the arm and led me across the hall into the sitting-room. +“I am going back to New York, I am going to pursue this matter. I am +going to find out from whom came the poison which killed this girl, and +by whose hand this vile forgery of a confession was written.”</p> + +<p>“But,” said I, rather thrown off my balance by all this, “Q and the +coroner will be here presently, won’t you wait to see them?”</p> + +<p>“No; clues such as are given here must be followed while the trail is +hot; I can’t afford to wait.”</p> + +<p>“If I am not mistaken, they have already come,” I remarked, as a +tramping of feet without announced that some one stood at the door.</p> + +<p>“That is so,” he assented, hastening to let them in.</p> + +<p>Judging from common experience, we had every reason to fear that an +immediate stop would be put to all proceedings on our part, as soon as +the coroner was introduced upon the scene. But happily for us and the +interest at stake, Dr. Fink, of R ——, proved to be a very sensible +man. He had only to hear a true story of the affair to recognize at +once its importance and the necessity of the most cautious action in +the matter. Further, by a sort of sympathy with Mr. Gryce, all the more +remarkable that he had never seen him before, he expressed himself +as willing to enter into our plans, offering not only to allow us the +temporary use of such papers as we desired, but even undertaking to +conduct the necessary formalities of calling a jury and instituting +an inquest in such a way as to give us time for the investigations we +proposed to make.</p> + +<p>The delay was therefore short. Mr. Gryce was enabled to take the 6:30 +train for New York, and I to follow on the 10 P.M.,—the calling of a +jury, ordering of an autopsy, and final adjournment of the inquiry till +the following Tuesday, having all taken place in the interim.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXV_FINE_WORK">XXXV. FINE WORK</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent10">“No hinge nor loop</div> + <div class="verse indent8">To hang a doubt on!”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“But yet the pity of it, Iago! Oh, Iago, the pity of it, Iago.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent11">Othello.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>One sentence dropped by Mr. Gryce before leaving R—— prepared me for +his next move.</p> + +<p>“The clue to this murder is supplied by the paper on which the +confession is written. Find from whose desk or portfolio this especial +sheet was taken, and you find the double murderer,” he had said.</p> + +<p>Consequently, I was not surprised when, upon visiting his house, early +the next morning, I beheld him seated before a table on which lay +a lady’s writing-desk and a pile of paper, till told the desk was +Eleanore’s. Then I did show astonishment. “What,” said I, “are you not +satisfied yet of her innocence?”</p> + +<p>“O yes; but one must be thorough. No conclusion is valuable which is not +preceded by a full and complete investigation. Why,” he cried, casting +his eyes complacently towards the fire-tongs, “I have even been +rummaging through Mr. Clavering’s effects, though the confession bears +the proof upon its face that it could not have been written by him. It +is not enough to look for evidence where you expect to find it. You must +sometimes search for it where you don’t. Now,” said he, drawing the desk +before him, “I don’t anticipate finding anything here of a criminating +character; but it is among the possibilities that I may; and that is +enough for a detective.”</p> + +<p>“Did you see Miss Leavenworth this morning?” I asked, as he proceeded +to fulfil his intention by emptying the contents of the desk upon the +table.</p> + +<p>“Yes; I was unable to procure what I desired without it. And she behaved +very handsomely, gave me the desk with her own hands, and never raised +an objection. To be sure, she had little idea what I was looking for; +thought, perhaps, I wanted to make sure it did not contain the letter +about which so much has been said. But it would have made but little +difference if she had known the truth. This desk contains nothing <i>we</i> +want.”</p> + +<p>“Was she well; and had she heard of Hannah’s sudden death?” I asked, in +my irrepressible anxiety.</p> + +<p>“Yes, and feels it, as you might expect her to. But let us see what we +have here,” said he, pushing aside the desk, and drawing towards him the +stack of paper I have already referred to. “I found this pile, just as +you see it, in a drawer of the library table at Miss Mary Leavenworth’s +house in Fifth Avenue. If I am not mistaken, it will supply us with the +clue we want.”</p> + +<p>“But——”</p> + +<p>“But this paper is square, while that of the confession is of the size +and shape of commercial note? I know; but you remember the sheet used in +the confession was trimmed down. Let us compare the quality.”</p> + +<p>Taking the confession from his pocket and the sheet from the pile before +him, he carefully compared them, then held them out for my inspection. A +glance showed them to be alike in color.</p> + +<p>“Hold them up to the light,” said he.</p> + +<p>I did so; the appearance presented by both was precisely alike.</p> + +<p>“Now let us compare the ruling.” And, laying them both down on the +table, he placed the edges of the two sheets together. The lines on the +one accommodated themselves to the lines on the other; and that question +was decided.</p> + +<p>His triumph was assured. “I was convinced of it,” said he. “From the +moment I pulled open that drawer and saw this mass of paper, I knew the +end was come.”</p> + +<p>“But,” I objected, in my old spirit of combativeness, “isn’t there any +room for doubt? This paper is of the commonest kind. Every family on the +block might easily have specimens of it in their library.”</p> + +<p>“That isn’t so,” he said. “It is letter size, and that has gone out. Mr. +Leavenworth used it for his manuscript, or I doubt if it would have been +found in his library. But, if you are still incredulous, let us see what +can be done,” and jumping up, he carried the confession to the window, +looked at it this way and that, and, finally discovering what he wanted, +came back and, laying it before me, pointed out one of the lines of +ruling which was markedly heavier than the rest, and another which was +so faint as to be almost undistinguishable. “Defects like these often +run through a number of consecutive sheets,” said he. “If we could find +the identical half-quire from which this was taken, I might show you +proof that would dispel every doubt,” and taking up the one that lay on +top, he rapidly counted the sheets. There were but eight. “It might have +been taken from this one,” said he; but, upon looking closely at the +ruling, he found it to be uniformly distinct. “Humph! that won’t do!” +came from his lips.</p> + +<p>The remainder of the paper, some dozen or so half-quires, looked +undisturbed. Mr. Gryce tapped his fingers on the table and a frown +crossed his face. “Such a pretty thing, if it could have been done!” he +longingly exclaimed. Suddenly he took up the next half-quire. “Count the +sheets,” said he, thrusting it towards me, and himself lifting another.</p> + +<p>I did as I was bid. “Twelve.”</p> + +<p>He counted his and laid it down. “Go on with the rest,” he cried.</p> + +<p>I counted the sheets in the next; twelve. He counted those in the one +following, and paused. “Eleven!”</p> + +<p>“Count again,” I suggested.</p> + +<p>He counted again, and quietly put them aside. “I made a mistake,” said +he.</p> + +<p>But he was not to be discouraged. Taking another half-quire, he went +through with the same operation;—in vain. With a sigh of impatience he +flung it down on the table and looked up. “Halloo!” he cried, “what is +the matter?”</p> + +<p>“There are but eleven sheets in this package,” I said, placing it in his +hand.</p> + +<p>The excitement he immediately evinced was contagious. Oppressed as I +was, I could not resist his eagerness. “Oh, beautiful!” he exclaimed. +“Oh, beautiful! See! the light on the inside, the heavy one on the +outside, and both in positions precisely corresponding to those on +this sheet of Hannah’s. What do you think now? Is any further proof +necessary?”</p> + +<p>“The veriest doubter must succumb before this,” returned I.</p> + +<p>With something like a considerate regard for my emotion, he turned away. +“I am obliged to congratulate myself, notwithstanding the gravity of the +discovery that has been made,” said he. “It is so neat, so very neat, +and so conclusive. I declare I am myself astonished at the perfection +of the thing. But what a woman that is!” he suddenly cried, in a tone +of the greatest admiration. “What an intellect she has! what shrewdness! +what skill! I declare it is almost a pity to entrap a woman who has done +as well as this—taken a sheet from the very bottom of the pile, trimmed +it into another shape, and then, remembering the girl couldn’t write, +put what she had to say into coarse, awkward printing, Hannah-like. +<i>Splendid</i>! or would have been, if any other man than myself had +had this thing in charge.” And, all animated and glowing with his +enthusiasm, he eyed the chandelier above him as if it were the +embodiment of his own sagacity.</p> + +<p>Sunk in despair, I let him go on.</p> + +<p>“Could she have done any better?” he now asked. “Watched, circumscribed +as she was, could she have done any better? I hardly think so; the fact +of Hannah’s having learned to write after she left here was fatal. No, +she could not have provided against that contingency.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Gryce,” I here interposed, unable to endure this any longer; “did +you have an interview with Miss Mary Leavenworth this morning?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said he; “it was not in the line of my present purpose to do so. I +doubt, indeed, if she knew I was in her house. A servant maid who has a +grievance is a very valuable assistant to a detective. With Molly at my +side, I didn’t need to pay my respects to the mistress.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Gryce,” I asked, after another moment of silent self-congratulation +on his part, and of desperate self-control on mine, “what do you propose +to do now? You have followed your clue to the end and are satisfied. +Such knowledge as this is the precursor of action.”</p> + +<p>“Humph! we will see,” he returned, going to his private desk and +bringing out the box of papers which we had no opportunity of looking at +while in R——. “First let us examine these documents, and see if they +do not contain some hint which may be of service to us.” And taking out +the dozen or so loose sheets which had been torn from Eleanore’s Diary, +he began turning them over.</p> + +<p>While he was doing this, I took occasion to examine the contents of +the box. I found them to be precisely what Mrs. Belden had led me to +expect,—a certificate of marriage between Mary and Mr. Clavering and +a half-dozen or more letters. While glancing over the former, a short +exclamation from Mr. Gryce startled me into looking up.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” I cried.</p> + +<p>He thrust into my hand the leaves of Eleanore’s Diary. “Read,” said he. +“Most of it is a repetition of what you have already heard from Mrs. +Belden, though given from a different standpoint; but there is one +passage in it which, if I am not mistaken, opens up the way to an +explanation of this murder such as we have not had yet. Begin at the +beginning; you won’t find it dull.”</p> + +<p>Dull! Eleanore’s feelings and thoughts during that anxious time, dull!</p> + +<p>Mustering up my self-possession, I spread out the leaves in their order +and commenced:</p> + +<p>“R——, July 6,——”</p> + +<p>“Two days after they got there, you perceive,” Mr. Gryce explained.</p> + +<p>“—A gentleman was introduced to us to-day upon the <i>piazza</i> whom +I cannot forbear mentioning; first, because he is the most perfect +specimen of manly beauty I ever beheld, and secondly, because Mary, who +is usually so voluble where gentlemen are concerned, had nothing to say +when, in the privacy of our own apartment, I questioned her as to the +effect his appearance and conversation had made upon her. The fact +that he is an Englishman may have something to do with this; Uncle’s +antipathy to every one of that nation being as well-known to her as to +me. But somehow I cannot feel satisfied of this. Her experience with +Charlie Somerville has made me suspicious. What if the story of last +summer were to be repeated here, with an Englishman for the hero! But +I will not allow myself to contemplate such a possibility. Uncle will +return in a few days, and then all communication with one who, however +prepossessing, is of a family and race with whom it is impossible for +us to unite ourselves, must of necessity cease. I doubt if I should have +thought twice of all this if Mr. Clavering had not betrayed, upon his +introduction to Mary, such intense and unrestrained admiration.</p> + +<p>“July 8. The old story is to be repeated. Mary not only submits to the +attentions of Mr. Clavering, but encourages them. To-day she sat +two hours at the piano singing over to him her favorite songs, and +to-night—But I will not put down every trivial circumstance that comes +under my observation; it is unworthy of me. And yet, how can I shut my +eyes when the happiness of so many I love is at stake!</p> + +<p>“July 11. If Mr. Clavering is not absolutely in love with Mary, he is on +the verge of it. He is a very fine-looking man, and too honorable to be +trifled with in this reckless fashion.</p> + +<p>“July 13. Mary’s beauty blossoms like the rose. She was absolutely +wonderful to-night in scarlet and silver. I think her smile the sweetest +I ever beheld, and in this I am sure Mr. Clavering passionately agrees +with me; he never looked away from her to-night. But it is not so easy +to read <i>her</i> heart. To be sure, she appears anything but indifferent +to his fine appearance, strong sense, and devoted affection. But did she +not deceive us into believing she loved Charlie Somerville? In her case, +blush and smile go for little, I fear. Would it not be wiser under the +circumstances to say, I hope?</p> + +<p>“July 17. Oh, my heart! Mary came into my room this evening, and +absolutely startled me by falling at my side and burying her face in my +lap. ‘Oh, Eleanore, Eleanore!’ she murmured, quivering with what seemed +to me very happy sobs. But when I strove to lift her head to my breast, +she slid from my arms, and drawing herself up into her old attitude of +reserved pride, raised her hand as if to impose silence, and haughtily +left the room. There is but one interpretation to put upon this. Mr. +Clavering has expressed his sentiments, and she is filled with that +reckless delight which in its first flush makes one insensible to the +existence of barriers which have hitherto been deemed impassable. When +will Uncle come?</p> + +<p>“July 18. Little did I think when I wrote the above that Uncle was +already in the house. He arrived unexpectedly on the last train, and +came into my room just as I was putting away my diary. Looking a little +care-worn, he took me in his arms and then asked for Mary. I dropped my +head, and could not help stammering as I replied that she was in her own +room. Instantly his love took alarm, and leaving me, he hastened to +her apartment, where I afterwards learned he came upon her sitting +abstractedly before her dressing-table with Mr. Clavering’s family ring +on her finger. I do not know what followed. An unhappy scene, I fear, +for Mary is ill this morning, and Uncle exceedingly melancholy and +stern.</p> + +<p>“Afternoon. We are an unhappy family! Uncle not only refuses to consider +for a moment the question of Mary’s alliance with Mr. Clavering, but +even goes so far as to demand his instant and unconditional dismissal. +The knowledge of this came to me in the most distressing way. +Recognizing the state of affairs, but secretly rebelling against a +prejudice which seemed destined to separate two persons otherwise fitted +for each other, I sought Uncle’s presence this morning after breakfast, +and attempted to plead their cause. But he almost instantly stopped me +with the remark, ‘You are the last one, Eleanore, who should seek to +promote this marriage.’ Trembling with apprehension, I asked him +why. ‘For the reason that by so doing you work entirely for your own +interest.’ More and more troubled, I begged him to explain himself. ‘I +mean,’ said he, ‘that if Mary disobeys me by marrying this Englishman, +I shall disinherit her, and substitute your name for hers in my will as +well as in my affection.’</p> + +<p>“For a moment everything swam before my eyes. ‘You will never make me so +wretched!’ I entreated. ‘I will make you my heiress, if Mary persists +in her present determination,’ he declared, and without further word +sternly left the room. What could I do but fall on my knees and pray! +Of all in this miserable house, I am the most wretched. To supplant +her! But I shall not be called upon to do it; Mary will give up Mr. +Clavering.”</p> + +<p>“There!” exclaimed Mr. Gryce. “What do you think of that? Isn’t it +becoming plain enough what was Mary’s motive for this murder? But go on; +let us hear what followed.”</p> + +<p>With sinking heart, I continued. The next entry is dated July 19, and +runs thus:</p> + +<p>“I was right. After a long struggle with Uncle’s invincible will, Mary +has consented to dismiss Mr. Clavering. I was in the room when she +made known her decision, and I shall never forget our Uncle’s look of +gratified pride as he clasped her in his arms and called her his own +True Heart. He has evidently been very much exercised over this matter, +and I cannot but feel greatly relieved that affairs have terminated +so satisfactorily. But Mary? What is there in her manner that vaguely +disappoints me? I cannot say. I only know that I felt a powerful +shrinking overwhelm me when she turned her face to me and asked if I +were satisfied now. But I conquered my feelings and held out my hand. +She did not take it.</p> + +<p>“July 26. How long the days are! The shadow of our late trial is upon +me yet; I cannot shake it off. I seem to see Mr. Clavering’s despairing +face wherever I go. How is it that Mary preserves her cheerfulness? If +she does not love him, I should think the respect which she must feel +for his disappointment would keep her from levity at least.</p> + +<p>“Uncle has gone away again. Nothing I could say sufficed to keep him.</p> + +<p>“July 28. It has all come out. Mary has only nominally separated from +Mr. Clavering; she still cherishes the idea of one day uniting herself +to him in marriage. The fact was revealed to me in a strange way not +necessary to mention here; and has since been confirmed by Mary herself. +‘I admire the man,’ she declares, ‘and have no intention of giving him +up.’ ‘Then why not tell Uncle so?’ I asked. Her only answer was a bitter +smile and a short,—‘I leave that for you to do.’</p> + +<p>“July 30. Midnight. Worn completely out, but before my blood cools let +me write. Mary is a wife. I have just returned from seeing her give her +hand to Henry Clavering. Strange that I can write it without quivering +when my whole soul is one flush of indignation and revolt. But let me +state the facts. Having left my room for a few minutes this morning, +I returned to find on my dressing-table a note from Mary in which she +informed me that she was going to take Mrs. Belden for a drive and would +not be back for some hours. Convinced, as I had every reason to be, that +she was on her way to meet Mr. Clavering, I only stopped to put on my +hat—”</p> + +<p>There the Diary ceased.</p> + +<p>“She was probably interrupted by Mary at this point,” explained Mr. +Gryce. “But we have come upon the one thing we wanted to know. Mr. +Leavenworth threatened to supplant Mary with Eleanore if she persisted +in marrying contrary to his wishes. She did so marry, and to avoid the +consequences of her act she——”</p> + +<p>“Say no more,” I returned, convinced at last. “It is only too clear.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce rose.</p> + +<p>“But the writer of these words is saved,” I went on, trying to grasp +the one comfort left me. “No one who reads this Diary will ever dare to +insinuate she is capable of committing a crime.”</p> + +<p>“Assuredly not; the Diary settles that matter effectually.”</p> + +<p>I tried to be man enough to think of that and nothing else. To rejoice +in her deliverance, and let every other consideration go; but in this I +did not succeed. “But Mary, her cousin, almost her sister, is lost,” I +muttered.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce thrust his hands into his pockets and, for the first time, +showed some evidence of secret disturbance. “Yes, I am afraid she is; +I really am afraid she is.” Then after a pause, during which I felt a +certain thrill of vague hope: “Such an entrancing creature too! It is a +pity, it positively is a pity! I declare, now that the thing is worked +up, I begin to feel almost sorry we have succeeded so well. Strange, +but true. If there was the least loophole out of it,” he muttered. “But +there isn’t. The thing is clear as A, B, C.” Suddenly he rose, and began +pacing the floor very thoughtfully, casting his glances here, there, and +everywhere, except at me, though I believe now, as then, my face was all +he saw.</p> + +<p>“Would it be a very great grief to you, Mr. Raymond, if Miss Mary +Leavenworth should be arrested on this charge of murder?” he asked, +pausing before a sort of tank in which two or three disconsolate-looking +fishes were slowly swimming about.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said I, “it would; a very great grief.”</p> + +<p>“Yet it must be done,” said he, though with a strange lack of his usual +decision. “As an honest official, trusted to bring the murderer of Mr. +Leavenworth to the notice of the proper authorities, I have got to do +it.”</p> + +<p>Again that strange thrill of hope at my heart induced by his peculiar +manner.</p> + +<p>“Then my reputation as a detective! I ought surely to consider that. +I am not so rich or so famous that I can afford to forget all that a +success like this may bring me. No, lovely as she is, I have got to push +it through.” But even as he said this, he became still more thoughtful, +gazing down into the murky depths of the wretched tank before him with +such an intentness I half expected the fascinated fishes to rise from +the water and return his gaze. What was in his mind?</p> + +<p>After a little while he turned, his indecision utterly gone. “Mr. +Raymond, come here again at three. I shall then have my report ready for +the Superintendent. I should like to show it to you first, so don’t fail +me.”</p> + +<p>There was something so repressed in his expression, I could not prevent +myself from venturing one question. “Is your mind made up?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he returned, but in a peculiar tone, and with a peculiar gesture.</p> + +<p>“And you are going to make the arrest you speak of?”</p> + +<p>“Come at three!”</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXVI_GATHERED_THREADS">XXXVI. GATHERED THREADS</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“This is the short and the long of it.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent5">Merry Wives of Windsor.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Promptly at the hour named, I made my appearance at Mr. Gryce’s door. I +found him awaiting me on the threshold.</p> + +<p>“I have met you,” said he gravely, “for the purpose of requesting you +not to speak during the coming interview. I am to do the talking; you +the listening. Neither are you to be surprised at anything I may do or +say. I am in a facetious mood”—he did not look so—“and may take it +into my head to address you by another name than your own. If I do, +don’t mind it. Above all, don’t talk: remember that.” And without +waiting to meet my look of doubtful astonishment, he led me softly +up-stairs.</p> + +<p>The room in which I had been accustomed to meet him was at the top of +the first flight, but he took me past that into what appeared to be the +garret story, where, after many cautionary signs, he ushered me into +a room of singularly strange and unpromising appearance. In the first +place, it was darkly gloomy, being lighted simply by a very dim and +dirty skylight. Next, it was hideously empty; a pine table and two +hard-backed chairs, set face to face at each end of it, being the only +articles in the room. Lastly, it was surrounded by several closed doors +with blurred and ghostly ventilators over their tops which, being round, +looked like the blank eyes of a row of staring mummies. Altogether it +was a lugubrious spot, and in the present state of my mind made me +feel as if something unearthly and threatening lay crouched in the very +atmosphere. Nor, sitting there cold and desolate, could I imagine that +the sunshine glowed without, or that life, beauty, and pleasure paraded +the streets below.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gryce’s expression, as he took a seat and beckoned me to do the +same, may have had something to do with this strange sensation, it was +so mysteriously and sombrely expectant.</p> + +<p>“You’ll not mind the room,” said he, in so muffled a tone I scarcely +heard him. “It’s an awful lonesome spot, I know; but folks with such +matters before them mustn’t be too particular as to the places in which +they hold their consultations, if they don’t want all the world to know +as much as they do. Smith,” and he gave me an admonitory shake of his +finger, while his voice took a more distinct tone, “I have done the +business; the reward is mine; the assassin of Mr. Leavenworth is found, +and in two hours will be in custody. Do you want to know who it +is?” leaning forward with every appearance of eagerness in tone and +expression.</p> + +<p>I stared at him in great amazement. Had anything new come to light? any +great change taken place in his conclusions? All this preparation could +not be for the purpose of acquainting me with what I already knew, yet—</p> + +<p>He cut short my conjectures with a low, expressive chuckle. “It was a +long chase, I tell you,” raising his voice still more; “a tight go; a +woman in the business too; but all the women in the world can’t pull +the wool over the eyes of Ebenezer Gryce when he is on a trail; and the +assassin of Mr. Leavenworth and”—here his voice became actually shrill +in his excitement—“and of Hannah Chester is found.</p> + +<p>“Hush!” he went on, though I had neither spoken nor made any move; “you +didn’t know Hannah Chester was murdered. Well, she wasn’t in one sense +of the word, but in another she was, and by the same hand that killed +the old gentleman. How do I know this? look here! This scrap of paper +was found on the floor of her room; it had a few particles of white +powder sticking to it; those particles were tested last night and found +to be poison. But you say the girl took it herself, that she was a +suicide. You are right, she did take it herself, and it was a suicide; +but who terrified her into this act of self-destruction? Why, the one +who had the most reason to fear her testimony, of course. But the proof, +you say. Well, sir, this girl left a confession behind her, throwing the +onus of the whole crime on a certain party believed to be innocent; this +confession was a forged one, known from three facts; first, that the +paper upon which it was written was unobtainable by the girl in the +place where she was; secondly, that the words used therein were printed +in coarse, awkward characters, whereas Hannah, thanks to the teaching of +the woman under whose care she has been since the murder, had learned to +write very well; thirdly, that the story told in the confession does not +agree with the one related by the girl herself. Now the fact of a forged +confession throwing the guilt upon an innocent party having been found +in the keeping of this ignorant girl, killed by a dose of poison, taken +with the fact here stated, that on the morning of the day on which she +killed herself the girl received from some one manifestly acquainted +with the customs of the Leavenworth family a letter large enough and +thick enough to contain the confession folded, as it was when found, +makes it almost certain to my mind that the murderer of Mr. Leavenworth +sent this powder and this so-called confession to the girl, meaning +her to use them precisely as she did: for the purpose of throwing off +suspicion from the right track and of destroying herself at the same +time; for, as you know, dead men tell no tales.”</p> + +<p>He paused and looked at the dingy skylight above us. Why did the +air seem to grow heavier and heavier? Why did I shudder in vague +apprehension? I knew all this before; why did it strike me, then, as +something new?</p> + +<p>“But who was this? you ask. Ah, that is the secret; that is the bit of +knowledge which is to bring me fame and fortune. But, secret or not, +I don’t mind telling you”; lowering his voice and rapidly raising it +again. “The fact is, <i>I</i> can’t keep it to myself; it burns like a new +dollar in my pocket. Smith, my boy, the murderer of Mr. Leavenworth—but +stay, who does the world say it is? Whom do the papers point at and +shake their heads over? A woman! a young, beautiful, bewitching woman! +Ha, ha, ha! The papers are right; it is a woman; young, beautiful, and +bewitching too. But what one? Ah, that’s the question. There is more +than one woman in this affair. Since Hannah’s death I have heard it +openly advanced that she was the guilty party in the crime: bah! Others +cry it is the niece who was so unequally dealt with by her uncle in his +will: bah! again. But folks are not without some justification for this +latter assertion. Eleanore Leavenworth did know more of this matter than +appeared. Worse than that, Eleanore Leavenworth stands in a position of +positive peril to-day. If you don’t think so, let me show you what the +detectives have against her.</p> + +<p>“First, there is the fact that a handkerchief, with her name on it, was +found stained with pistol grease upon the scene of murder; a place which +she explicitly denies having entered for twenty-four hours previous to +the discovery of the dead body.</p> + +<p>“Secondly, the fact that she not only evinced terror when confronted +with this bit of circumstantial evidence, but manifested a decided +disposition, both at this time and others, to mislead inquiry, shirking +a direct answer to some questions and refusing all answer to others.</p> + +<p>“Thirdly, that an attempt was made by her to destroy a certain letter +evidently relating to this crime.</p> + +<p>“Fourthly, that the key to the library door was seen in her possession.</p> + +<p>“All this, taken with the fact that the fragments of the letter which +this same lady attempted to destroy within an hour after the inquest +were afterwards put together, and were found to contain a bitter +denunciation of one of Mr. Leavenworth’s nieces, by a gentleman we will +call <i>X</i> in other words, an unknown quantity—makes out a dark case +against <i>you</i>, especially as after investigations revealed the fact that +a secret underlay the history of the Leavenworth family. That, unknown +to the world at large, and Mr. Leavenworth in particular, a marriage +ceremony had been performed a year before in a little town called F—— +between a Miss Leavenworth and this same <i>X</i>. That, in other words, the +unknown gentleman who, in the letter partly destroyed by Miss Eleanore +Leavenworth, complained to Mr. Leavenworth of the treatment received +by him from one of his nieces, was in fact the secret husband of that +niece. And that, moreover, this same gentleman, under an assumed name, +called on the night of the murder at the house of Mr. Leavenworth and +asked for Miss Eleanore.</p> + +<p>“Now you see, with all this against her, Eleanore Leavenworth is lost +if it cannot be proved, first that the articles testifying against her, +viz.: the handkerchief, letter, and key, passed after the murder through +other hands, before reaching hers; and secondly, that some one else had +even a stronger reason than she for desiring Mr. Leavenworth’s death at +this time.</p> + +<p>“Smith, my boy, both of these hypotheses have been established by me. +By dint of moleing into old secrets, and following unpromising clues, I +have finally come to the conclusion that not Eleanore Leavenworth, dark +as are the appearances against her, but another woman, beautiful as +she, and fully as interesting, is the true criminal. In short, that her +cousin, the exquisite Mary, is the murderer of Mr. Leavenworth, and by +inference of Hannah Chester also.”</p> + +<p>He brought this out with such force, and with such a look of triumph +and appearance of having led up to it, that I was for the moment +dumbfounded, and started as if I had not known what he was going to say. +The stir I made seemed to awake an echo. Something like a suppressed +cry was in the air about me. All the room appeared to breathe horror and +dismay. Yet when, in the excitement of this fancy, I half turned round +to look, I found nothing but the blank eyes of those dull ventilators +staring upon me.</p> + +<p>“You are taken aback!” Mr. Gryce went on. “I don’t wonder. Every one +else is engaged in watching the movements of Eleanore Leavenworth; I +only know where to put my hand upon the real culprit. You shake your +head!” (Another fiction.) “You don’t believe me! Think I am deceived. +Ha, ha! Ebenezer Gryce deceived after a month of hard work! You are as +bad as Miss Leavenworth herself, who has so little faith in my sagacity +that she offered me, of all men, an enormous reward if I would find for +her the assassin of her uncle! But that is neither here nor there; +you have your doubts, and you are waiting for me to solve them. Well, +nothing is easier. Know first that on the morning of the inquest I made +one or two discoveries not to be found in the records, viz.: that the +handkerchief picked up, as I have said, in Mr. Leavenworth’s library, +had notwithstanding its stains of pistol grease, a decided perfume +lingering about it. Going to the dressing-table of the two ladies, I +sought for that perfume, and found it in Mary’s room, not Eleanore’s. +This led me to examine the pockets of the dresses respectively worn by +them the evening before. In that of Eleanore I found a handkerchief, +presumably the one she had carried at that time. But in Mary’s there was +none, nor did I see any lying about her room as if tossed down on +her retiring. The conclusion I drew from this was, that she, and +not Eleanore, had carried the handkerchief into her uncle’s room, a +conclusion emphasized by the fact privately communicated to me by one of +the servants, that Mary was in Eleanore’s room when the basket of clean +clothes was brought up with this handkerchief lying on top.</p> + +<p>“But knowing the liability we are to mistake in such matters as these, +I made another search in the library, and came across a very curious +thing. Lying on the table was a penknife, and scattered on the floor +beneath, in close proximity to the chair, were two or three minute +portions of wood freshly chipped off from the leg of the table; all of +which looked as if some one of a nervous disposition had been sitting +there, whose hand in a moment of self-forgetfulness had caught up the +knife and unconsciously whittled the table. A little thing, you say; +but when the question is, which of two ladies, one of a calm and +self-possessed nature, the other restless in her ways and excitable in +her disposition, was in a certain spot at a certain time, it is these +little things that become almost deadly in their significance. No one +who has been with these two women an hour can hesitate as to whose +delicate hand made that cut in Mr. Leavenworth’s library table.</p> + +<p>“But we are not done. I distinctly overheard Eleanore accuse her cousin +of this deed. Now such a woman as Eleanore Leavenworth has proved +herself to be never would accuse a relative of crime without the +strongest and most substantial reasons. First, she must have been sure +her cousin stood in a position of such emergency that nothing but +the death of her uncle could release her from it; secondly, that her +cousin’s character was of such a nature she would not hesitate to +relieve herself from a desperate emergency by the most desperate of +means; and lastly, been in possession of some circumstantial evidence +against her cousin, seriously corroborative of her suspicions. Smith, +all this was true of Eleanore Leavenworth. As to the character of her +cousin, she has had ample proof of her ambition, love of money, caprice +and deceit, it having been Mary Leavenworth, and not Eleanore, as was +first supposed, who had contracted the secret marriage already spoken +of. Of the critical position in which she stood, let the threat once +made by Mr. Leavenworth to substitute her cousin’s name for hers in +his will in case she had married this <i>x</i> be remembered, as well as the +tenacity with which Mary clung to her hopes of future fortune; while for +the corroborative testimony of her guilt which Eleanore is supposed +to have had, remember that previous to the key having been found in +Eleanore’s possession, she had spent some time in her cousin’s room; and +that it was at Mary’s fireplace the half-burned fragments of that letter +were found,—and you have the outline of a report which in an hour’s +time from this will lead to the arrest of Mary Leavenworth as the +assassin of her uncle and benefactor.”</p> + +<p>A silence ensued which, like the darkness of Egypt, could be felt; +then a great and terrible cry rang through the room, and a man’s form, +rushing from I knew not where, shot by me and fell at Mr. Gryce’s feet +shrieking out:</p> + +<p>“It is a lie! a lie! Mary Leavenworth is innocent as a babe unborn. I am +the murderer of Mr. Leavenworth. I! I! I!”</p> + +<p>It was Trueman Harwell.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXVII_CULMINATION">XXXVII. CULMINATION</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Saint seducing gold.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">Romeo and Juliet.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent3">“When our actions do not,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Our fears do make us traitors.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent9">Macbeth.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>I never saw such a look of mortal triumph on the face of a man as that +which crossed the countenance of the detective.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said he, “this is unexpected, but not wholly unwelcome. I am +truly glad to learn that Miss Leavenworth is innocent; but I must hear +some few more particulars before I shall be satisfied. Get up, +Mr. Harwell, and explain yourself. If you are the murderer of Mr. +Leavenworth, how comes it that things look so black against everybody +but yourself?”</p> + +<p>But in the hot, feverish eyes which sought him from the writhing form at +his feet, there was mad anxiety and pain, but little explanation. Seeing +him making unavailing efforts to speak, I drew near.</p> + +<p>“Lean on me,” said I, lifting him to his feet.</p> + +<p>His face, relieved forever from its mask of repression, turned towards +me with the look of a despairing spirit. “Save! save!” he gasped. “Save +her—Mary—they are sending a report—stop it!”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” broke in another voice. “If there is a man here who believes in +God and prizes woman’s honor, let him stop the issue of that report.” +And Henry Clavering, dignified as ever, but in a state of extreme +agitation, stepped into our midst through an open door at our right.</p> + + +<div class="figcenter illowp70" id="i-374"> +<img class="w100" src="images/i-374.jpg" alt="" /> +<div class="caption p15bot">““At the sight of his face, the man in our arms quivered, shrieked, and gave one bound that would have overturned Mr. Clavering, . . . had not Mr. Gryce interposed”</div> +</div> + + +<p>But at the sight of his face, the man in our arms quivered, shrieked, +and gave one bound that would have overturned Mr. Clavering, herculean +of frame as he was, had not Mr. Gryce interposed.</p> + +<p>“Wait!” he cried; and holding back the secretary with one hand—where +was his rheumatism now!—he put the other in his pocket and drew thence +a document which he held up before Mr. Clavering. “It has not gone +yet,” said he; “be easy. And you,” he went on, turning towards Trueman +Harwell, “be quiet, or——”</p> + +<p>His sentence was cut short by the man springing from his grasp. “Let me +go!” he shrieked. “Let me have my revenge on him who, in face of all I +have done for Mary Leavenworth, dares to call her his wife! Let me—” +But at this point he paused, his quivering frame stiffening into stone, +and his clutching hands, outstretched for his rival’s throat, falling +heavily back. “Hark!” said he, glaring over Mr. Clavering’s shoulder: +“it is she! I hear her! I feel her! She is on the stairs! she is at the +door! she—” a low, shuddering sigh of longing and despair finished the +sentence: the door opened, and Mary Leavenworth stood before us!</p> + +<p>It was a moment to make young hairs turn gray. To see her face, so pale, +so haggard, so wild in its fixed horror, turned towards Henry Clavering, +to the utter ignoring of the real actor in this most horrible scene! +Trueman Harwell could not stand it.</p> + +<p>“Ah, ah!” he cried; “look at her! cold, cold; not one glance for me, +though I have just drawn the halter from her neck and fastened it about +my own!”</p> + +<p>And, breaking from the clasp of the man who in his jealous rage would +now have withheld him, he fell on his knees before Mary, clutching her +dress with frenzied hands. “You <i>shall</i> look at me,” he cried; “you +<i>shall</i> listen to me! I will not lose body and soul for nothing. Mary, +they said you were in peril! I could not endure that thought, so I +uttered the truth,—yes, though I knew what the consequence would +be,—and all I want now is for you to say you believe me, when I swear +that I only meant to secure to you the fortune you so much desired; that +I never dreamed it would come to this; that it was because I loved you, +and hoped to win your love in return that I——”</p> + +<p>But she did not seem to see him, did not seem to hear him. Her eyes were +fixed upon Henry Clavering with an awful inquiry in their depths, and +none but he could move her.</p> + +<p>“You do not hear me!” shrieked the poor wretch. “Ice that you are, you +would not turn your head if I should call to you from the depths of +hell!”</p> + +<p>But even this cry fell unheeded. Pushing her hands down upon his +shoulders as though she would sweep some impediment from her path, she +endeavored to advance. “Why is that man here?” she cried, indicating +her husband with one quivering hand. “What has he done that he should be +brought here to confront me at this awful time?”</p> + +<p>“I told her to come here to meet her uncle’s murderer,” whispered Mr. +Gryce into my ear.</p> + +<p>But before I could reply to her, before Mr. Clavering himself could +murmur a word, the guilty wretch before her had started to his feet.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you know? then I will tell you. It is because these gentlemen, +chivalrous and honorable as they consider themselves, think that you, +the beauty and the Sybarite, committed with your own white hand the +deed of blood which has brought you freedom and fortune. Yes, yes, this +man”—turning and pointing at me—“friend as he has made himself out to +be, kindly and honorable as you have doubtless believed him, but who in +every look he has bestowed upon you, every word he has uttered in your +hearing during all these four horrible weeks, has been weaving a cord +for your neck—thinks you the assassin of your uncle, unknowing that a +man stood at your side ready to sweep half the world from your path if +that same white hand rose in bidding. That I——”</p> + +<p>“You?” Ah! now she could see him: now she could hear him!</p> + +<p>“Yes,” clutching her robe again as she hastily recoiled; “didn’t you +know it? When in that dreadful hour of your rejection by your uncle, you +cried aloud for some one to help you, didn’t you know——”</p> + +<p>“Don’t!” she shrieked, bursting from him with a look of unspeakable +horror. “Don’t say that! Oh!” she gasped, “is the mad cry of a stricken +woman for aid and sympathy the call for a murderer?” And turning away +in horror, she moaned: “Who that ever looks at me now will forget that +a man—such a man!—dared to think that, because I was in mortal +perplexity, I would accept the murder of my best friend as a relief from +it!” Her horror was unbounded. “Oh, what a chastisement for folly!” she +murmured. “What a punishment for the love of money which has always been +my curse!”</p> + +<p>Henry Clavering could no longer restrain himself, leaping to her side, +he bent over her. “Was it nothing but folly, Mary? Are you guiltless of +any deeper wrong? Is there no link of complicity between you two? Have +you nothing on your soul but an inordinate desire to preserve your place +in your uncle’s will, even at the risk of breaking my heart and wronging +your noble cousin? Are you innocent in this matter? Tell me!” placing +his hand on her head, he pressed it slowly back and gazed into her eyes; +then, without a word, took her to his breast and looked calmly around +him.</p> + +<p>“She is innocent!” said he.</p> + +<p>It was the uplifting of a stifling pall. No one in the room, unless it +was the wretched criminal shivering before us, but felt a sudden influx +of hope. Even Mary’s own countenance caught a glow. “Oh!” she whispered, +withdrawing from his arms to look better into his face, “and is this the +man I have trifled with, injured, and tortured, till the very name of +Mary Leavenworth might well make him shudder? Is this he whom I married +in a fit of caprice, only to forsake and deny? Henry, do you declare +me innocent in face of all you have seen and heard; in face of that +moaning, chattering wretch before us, and my own quaking flesh and +evident terror; with the remembrance on your heart and in your mind of +the letter I wrote you the morning after the murder, in which I prayed +you to keep away from me, as I was in such deadly danger the least hint +given to the world that I had a secret to conceal would destroy me? Do +you, can you, will you, declare me innocent before God and the world?”</p> + +<p>“I do,” said he.</p> + +<p>A light such as had never visited her face before passed slowly over it. +“Then God forgive me the wrong I have done this noble heart, for I can +never forgive myself! Wait!” said she, as he opened his lips. “Before I +accept any further tokens of your generous confidence, let me show you +what I am. You shall know the worst of the woman you have taken to your +heart. Mr. Raymond,” she cried, turning towards me for the first time, +“in those days when, with such an earnest desire for my welfare (you see +I do not believe this man’s insinuations), you sought to induce me to +speak out and tell all I knew concerning this dreadful deed, I did not +do it because of my selfish fears. I knew the case looked dark against +me. Eleanore had told me so. Eleanore herself—and it was the keenest +pang I had to endure—believed me guilty. She had her reasons. She knew +first, from the directed envelope she had found lying underneath my +uncle’s dead body on the library table, that he had been engaged at the +moment of death in summoning his lawyer to make that change in his will +which would transfer my claims to her; secondly, that notwithstanding +my denial of the same, I had been down to his room the night before, for +she had heard my door open and my dress rustle as I passed out. But that +was not all; the key that every one felt to be a positive proof of guilt +wherever found, had been picked up by her from the floor of my room; the +letter written by Mr. Clavering to my uncle was found in my fire; and +the handkerchief which she had seen me take from the basket of clean +clothes, was produced at the inquest stained with pistol grease. I could +not account for these things. A web seemed tangled about my feet. +I could not stir without encountering some new toil. I knew I was +innocent; but if I failed to satisfy my cousin of this, how could I +hope to convince the general public, if once called upon to do so. Worse +still, if Eleanore, with every apparent motive for desiring long life +to our uncle, was held in such suspicion because of a few circumstantial +evidences against her, what would I not have to fear if these evidences +were turned against me, the heiress! The tone and manner of the juryman +at the inquest that asked who would be most benefited by my uncle’s will +showed but too plainly. When, therefore, Eleanore, true to her heart’s +generous instincts, closed her lips and refused to speak when speech +would have been my ruin, I let her do it, justifying myself with the +thought that she had deemed me capable of crime, and so must bear the +consequences. Nor, when I saw how dreadful these were likely to +prove, did I relent. Fear of the ignominy, suspense, and danger which +confession would entail sealed my lips. Only once did I hesitate. That +was when, in the last conversation we had, I saw that, notwithstanding +appearances, you believed in Eleanore’s innocence, and the thought +crossed me you might be induced to believe in mine if I threw myself +upon your mercy. But just then Mr. Clavering came; and as in a flash I +seemed to realize what my future life would be, stained by suspicion, +and, instead of yielding to my impulse, went so far in the other +direction as to threaten Mr. Clavering with a denial of our marriage if +he approached me again till all danger was over.</p> + +<p>“Yes, he will tell you that was my welcome to him when, with heart +and brain racked by long suspense, he came to my door for one word of +assurance that the peril I was in was not of my own making. That was the +greeting I gave him after a year of silence every moment of which was +torture to him. But he forgives me; I see it in his eyes; I hear it in +his accents; and you—oh, if in the long years to come you can forget +what I have made Eleanore suffer by my selfish fears; if with the shadow +of her wrong before you, you can by the grace of some sweet hope think +a little less hardly of me, do. As for this man—torture could not be +worse to me than this standing with him in the same room—let him +come forward and declare if I by look or word have given him reason to +believe I understood his passion, much less returned it.”</p> + +<p>“Why ask!” he gasped. “Don’t you see it was your indifference which +drove me mad? To stand before you, to agonize after you, to follow you +with thoughts in every move you made; to know my soul was welded to +yours with bands of steel no fire could melt, no force destroy, no +strain dissever; to sleep under the same roof, sit at the same table, +and yet meet not so much as one look to show me you understood! It was +that which made my life a hell. I was determined you should understand. +If I had to leap into a pit of flame, you should know what I was, and +what my passion for you was. And you do. You comprehend it all now. +Shrink as you will from my presence, cower as you may to the weak man +you call husband, you can never forget the love of Trueman Harwell; +never forget that love, love, love, was the force which led me down into +your uncle’s room that night, and lent me will to pull the trigger which +poured all the wealth you hold this day into your lap. Yes,” he went on, +towering in his preternatural despair till even the noble form of Henry +Clavering looked dwarfed beside him, “every dollar that chinks from +your purse shall talk of me. Every gew-gaw which flashes on that haughty +head, too haughty to bend to me, shall shriek my name into your ears. +Fashion, pomp, luxury,—you will have them all; but till gold loses its +glitter and ease its attraction you will never forget the hand that gave +them to you!”</p> + +<p>With a look whose evil triumph I cannot describe, he put his hand into +the arm of the waiting detective, and in another moment would have been +led from the room; when Mary, crushing down the swell of emotions that +was seething in her breast, lifted her head and said:</p> + +<p>“No, Trueman Harwell; I cannot give you even that thought for your +comfort. Wealth so laden would bring nothing but torture. I cannot +accept the torture, so must release the wealth. From this day, Mary +Clavering owns nothing but what comes to her from the husband she has so +long and so basely wronged.” And raising her hands to her ears, she tore +out the diamonds which hung there, and flung them at the feet of the +unfortunate man.</p> + +<p>It was the final wrench of the rack. With a yell such as I never thought +to listen to from the lips of a man, he flung up his arms, while all the +lurid light of madness glared on his face. “And I have given my soul to +hell for a shadow!” he moaned, “for a shadow!”</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>“Well, that is the best day’s work I ever did! Your congratulations, +Mr. Raymond, upon the success of the most daring game ever played in a +detective’s office.”</p> + +<p>I looked at the triumphant countenance of Mr. Gryce in amazement. “What +do you mean?” I cried; “did you plan all this?”</p> + +<p>“Did I plan it?” he repeated. “Could I stand here, seeing how things +have turned out, if I had not? Mr. Raymond, let us be comfortable. You +are a gentleman, but we can well shake hands over this. I have never +known such a satisfactory conclusion to a bad piece of business in all +my professional career.”</p> + +<p>We did shake hands, long and fervently, and then I asked him to explain +himself.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said he, “there has always been one thing that plagued me, even +in the very moment of my strongest suspicion against this woman, and +that was, the pistol-cleaning business. I could not reconcile it with +what I knew of womankind. I could not make it seem the act of a woman. +Did you ever know a woman who cleaned a pistol? No. They can fire them, +and do; but after firing them, they do not clean them. Now it is a +principle which every detective recognizes, that if of a hundred leading +circumstances connected with a crime, ninety-nine of these are acts +pointing to the suspected party with unerring certainty, but the +hundredth equally important act one which that person could not have +performed, the whole fabric of suspicion is destroyed. Recognizing this +principle, then, as I have said, I hesitated when it came to the point +of arrest. The chain was complete; the links were fastened; but one link +was of a different size and material from the rest; and in this argued a +break in the chain. I resolved to give her a final chance. Summoning Mr. +Clavering, and Mr. Harwell, two persons whom I had no reason to suspect, +but who were the only persons beside herself who could have committed +this crime, being the only persons of intellect who were in the house +or believed to be, at the time of the murder, I notified them separately +that the assassin of Mr. Leavenworth was not only found, but was +about to be arrested in my house, and that if they wished to hear +the confession which would be sure to follow, they might have the +opportunity of doing so by coming here at such an hour. They were both +too much interested, though for very different reasons, to refuse; and +I succeeded in inducing them to conceal themselves in the two rooms from +which you saw them issue, knowing that if either of them had committed +this deed, he had done it for the love of Mary Leavenworth, and +consequently could not hear her charged with crime, and threatened +with arrest, without betraying himself. I did not hope much from the +experiment; least of all did I anticipate that Mr. Harwell would prove +to be the guilty man—but live and learn, Mr. Raymond, live and learn.”</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXVIII_A_FULL_CONFESSION">XXXVIII. A FULL CONFESSION</h2> +</div> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Between the acting of a dreadful thing,</div> + <div class="verse indent1">And the first motion, all the interim is</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like a phantasma or a hideous dream;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The genius and the mortal instruments</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are then in council; and the state of a man,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like to a little Kingdom, suffers then</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The nature of an insurrection.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent10">Julius Cæsar.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + + +<p>I am not a bad man; I am only an intense one. Ambition, love, jealousy, +hatred, revenge—transitory emotions with some, are terrific passions +with me. To be sure, they are quiet and concealed ones, coiled serpents +that make no stir till aroused; but then, deadly in their spring and +relentless in their action. Those who have known me best have not known +this. My own mother was ignorant of it. Often and often have I heard +her say: “If Trueman only had more sensibility! If Trueman were not so +indifferent to everything! In short, if Trueman had more power in him!”</p> + +<p>It was the same at school. No one understood me. They thought me meek; +called me Dough-face. For three years they called me this, then I turned +upon them. Choosing out their ringleader, I felled him to the ground, +laid him on his back, and stamped upon him. He was handsome before +my foot came down; afterwards—Well, it is enough he never called me +Dough-face again. In the store I entered soon after, I met with even +less appreciation. Regular at my work and exact in my performance of it, +they thought me a good machine and nothing more. What heart, soul, and +feeling could a man have who never sported, never smoked, and never +laughed? I could reckon up figures correctly, but one scarcely needed +heart or soul for that. I could even write day by day and month by month +without showing a flaw in my copy; but that only argued I was no more +than they intimated, a regular automaton. I let them think so, with the +certainty before me that they would one day change their minds as others +had done. The fact was, I loved nobody well enough, not even myself, +to care for any man’s opinion. Life was well-nigh a blank to me; a dead +level plain that had to be traversed whether I would or not. And such +it might have continued to this day if I had never met Mary Leavenworth. +But when, some nine months since, I left my desk in the counting-house +for a seat in Mr. Leavenworth’s library, a blazing torch fell into +my soul whose flame has never gone out, and never will, till the doom +before me is accomplished.</p> + +<p>She was so beautiful! When, on that first evening, I followed my new +employer into the parlor, and saw this woman standing up before me +in her half-alluring, half-appalling charm, I knew, as by a lightning +flash, what my future would be if I remained in that house. She was +in one of her haughty moods, and bestowed upon me little more than a +passing glance. But her indifference made slight impression upon me +then. It was enough that I was allowed to stand in her presence and look +unrebuked upon her loveliness. To be sure, it was like gazing into the +flower-wreathed crater of an awakening volcano. Fear and fascination +were in each moment I lingered there; but fear and fascination made the +moment what it was, and I could not have withdrawn if I would.</p> + +<p>And so it was always. Unspeakable pain as well as pleasure was in the +emotion with which I regarded her. Yet for all that I did not cease to +study her hour by hour and day by day; her smiles, her movement, her way +of turning her head or lifting her eyelids. I had a purpose in this. I +wished to knit her beauty so firmly into the warp and woof of my being +that nothing could ever serve to tear it away. For I saw then as plainly +as now that, coquette though she was, she would never stoop to me. No; +I might lie down at her feet and let her trample over me; she would not +even turn to see what it was she had stepped upon. I might spend days, +months, years, learning the alphabet of her wishes; she would not thank +me for my pains or even raise the lashes from her cheek to look at me as +I passed. I was nothing to her, could not be anything unless—and this +thought came slowly—I could in some way become her master.</p> + +<p>Meantime I wrote at Mr. Leavenworth’s dictation and pleased him. My +methodical ways were just to his taste. As for the other member of the +family, Miss Eleanore Leavenworth—she treated me just as one of her +proud but sympathetic nature might be expected to do. Not familiarly, +but kindly; not as a friend, but as a member of the household whom she +met every day at table, and who, as she or any one else could see, was +none too happy or hopeful.</p> + +<p>Six months went by. I had learned two things; first, that Mary +Leavenworth loved her position as prospective heiress to a large fortune +above every other earthly consideration; and secondly, that she was in +the possession of a secret which endangered that position. What this +was, I had for some time no means of knowing. But when later I became +convinced it was one of love, I grew hopeful, strange as it may seem. +For by this time I had learned Mr. Leavenworth’s disposition almost as +perfectly as that of his niece, and knew that in a matter of this kind +he would be uncompromising; and that in the clashing of these two wills +something might occur which would give me a hold upon her. The only +thing that troubled me was the fact that I did not know the name of the +man in whom she was interested. But chance soon favored me here. One +day—a month ago now—I sat down to open Mr. Leavenworth’s mail as +usual. One letter—shall I ever forget it? ran thus:</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="right padr4">“HOFFMAN HOUSE,</p> +<p class="right padr2">“March 1, 1876.”</p> + +<p class="noindent">MR. HORATIO LEAVENWORTH:</p> + +<p>“DEAR SIR,—You have a niece whom you love and trust, one, too, who +seems worthy of all the love and trust that you or any other man can +give her; so beautiful, so charming, so tender is she in face, form, +manner, and conversation. But, dear sir, every rose has its thorn, and +your rose is no exception to this rule. Lovely as she is, charming as +she is, tender as she is, she is not only capable of trampling on the +rights of one who trusted her, but of bruising the heart and breaking +the spirit of him to whom she owes all duty, honor, and observance.</p> + +<p>“If you don’t believe this, ask her to her cruel, bewitching face, who +and what is her humble servant, and yours.</p> + +<p class="right padr2 p15bot">“Henry Ritchie Clavering.”</p> +</div> + + +<p>If a bombshell had exploded at my feet, or the evil one himself appeared +at my call, I would not have been more astounded. Not only was the name +signed to these remarkable words unknown to me, but the epistle itself +was that of one who felt himself to be her master: a position which, as +you know, I was myself aspiring to occupy. For a few minutes, then, I +stood a prey to feelings of the bitterest wrath and despair; then I grew +calm, realizing that with this letter in my possession I was virtually +the arbitrator of her destiny. Some men would have sought her there and +then and, by threatening to place it in her uncle’s hand, won from her +a look of entreaty, if no more; but I—well, my plans went deeper than +that. I knew she would have to be in extremity before I could hope to +win her. She must feel herself slipping over the edge of the precipice +before she would clutch at the first thing offering succor. I decided +to allow the letter to pass into my employer’s hands. But it had been +opened! How could I manage to give it to him in this condition without +exciting his suspicion? I knew of but one way; to let him see me open it +for what he would consider the first time. So, waiting till he came into +the room, I approached him with the letter, tearing off the end of the +envelope as I came. Opening it, I gave a cursory glance at its contents +and tossed it down on the table before him.</p> + +<p>“That appears to be of a private character,” said I, “though there is no +sign to that effect on the envelope.”</p> + +<p>He took it up while I stood there. At the first word he started, looked +at me, seemed satisfied from my expression that I had not read far +enough to realize its nature, and, whirling slowly around in his chair, +devoured the remainder in silence. I waited a moment, then withdrew to +my own desk. One minute, two minutes passed in silence; he was evidently +rereading the letter; then he hurriedly rose and left the room. As he +passed me I caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror. The expression I +saw there did not tend to lessen the hope that was rising in my breast.</p> + +<p>By following him almost immediately up-stairs I ascertained that he +went directly to Mary’s room, and when in a few hours later the family +collected around the dinner table, I perceived, almost without looking +up, that a great and insurmountable barrier had been raised between him +and his favorite niece.</p> + +<p>Two days passed; days that were for me one long and unrelieved suspense. +Had Mr. Leavenworth answered that letter? Would it all end as it had +begun, without the appearance of the mysterious Clavering on the scene? +I could not tell.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile my monotonous work went on, grinding my heart beneath its +relentless wheel. I wrote and wrote and wrote, till it seemed as if my +life blood went from me with every drop of ink I used. Always alert +and listening, I dared not lift my head or turn my eyes at any unusual +sound, lest I should seem to be watching. The third night I had a dream; +I have already told Mr. Raymond what it was, and hence will not repeat +it here. One correction, however, I wish to make in regard to it. In my +statement to him I declared that the face of the man whom I saw lift his +hand against my employer was that of Mr. Clavering. I lied when I said +this. The face seen by me in my dream was my own. It was that fact +which made it so horrible to me. In the crouching figure stealing warily +down-stairs, I saw as in a glass the vision of my own form. Otherwise my +account of the matter was true.</p> + +<p>This vision had a tremendous effect upon me. Was it a premonition? a +forewarning of the way in which I was to win this coveted creature for +my own? Was the death of her uncle the bridge by which the impassable +gulf between us might be spanned? I began to think it might be; to +consider the possibilities which could make this the only path to +my elysium; even went so far as to picture her lovely face bending +gratefully towards me through the glare of a sudden release from some +emergency in which she stood. One thing was sure; if that was the way I +must go, I had at least been taught how to tread it; and all through the +dizzy, blurred day that followed, I saw, as I sat at my work, repeated +visions of that stealthy, purposeful figure stealing down the stairs +and entering with uplifted pistol into the unconscious presence of my +employer. I even found myself a dozen times that day turning my eyes +upon the door through which it was to come, wondering how long it would +be before my actual form would pause there. That the moment was at hand +I did not imagine. Even when I left him that night after drinking with +him the glass of sherry mentioned at the inquest, I had no idea the hour +of action was so near. But when, not three minutes after going up-stairs, +I caught the sound of a lady’s dress rustling through the hall, and +listening, heard Mary Leavenworth pass my door on her way to the +library, I realized that the fatal hour was come; that something +was going to be said or done in that room which would make this deed +necessary. What? I determined to ascertain. Casting about in my mind +for the means of doing so, I remembered that the ventilator running +up through the house opened first into the passageway connecting Mr. +Leavenworth’s bedroom and library, and, secondly, into the closet of +the large spare room adjoining mine. Hastily unlocking the door of +the communication between the rooms, I took my position in the closet. +Instantly the sound of voices reached my ears; all was open below, and +standing there, I was as much an auditor of what went on between Mary +and her uncle as if I were in the library itself. And what did I hear? +Enough to assure me my suspicions were correct; that it was a moment of +vital interest to her; that Mr. Leavenworth, in pursuance of a threat +evidently made some time since, was in the act of taking steps to change +his will, and that she had come to make an appeal to be forgiven her +fault and restored to his favor. What that fault was, I did not learn. +No mention was made of Mr. Clavering as her husband. I only heard her +declare that her action had been the result of impulse, rather than +love; that she regretted it, and desired nothing more than to be free +from all obligations to one she would fain forget, and be again to her +uncle what she was before she ever saw this man. I thought, fool that I +was, it was a mere engagement she was alluding to, and took the insanest +hope from these words; and when, in a moment later I heard her uncle +reply, in his sternest tone, that she had irreparably forfeited her +claims to his regard and favor, I did not need her short and bitter cry +of shame and disappointment, or that low moan for some one to help her, +for me to sound his death-knell in my heart. Creeping back to my own +room, I waited till I heard her reascend, then I stole forth. Calm as +I had ever been in my life, I went down the stairs just as I had seen +myself do in my dream, and knocking lightly at the library door, went +in. Mr. Leavenworth was sitting in his usual place writing.</p> + +<p>“Excuse me,” said I as he looked up, “I have lost my memorandum-book, +and think it possible I may have dropped it in the passageway when I +went for the wine.” He bowed, and I hurried past him into the closet. +Once there, I proceeded rapidly into the room beyond, procured the +pistol, returned, and almost before I realized what I was doing, had +taken up my position behind him, aimed, and fired. The result was what +you know. Without a groan his head fell forward on his hands, and Mary +Leavenworth was the virtual possessor of the thousands she coveted.</p> + +<p>My first thought was to procure the letter he was writing. Approaching +the table, I tore it out from under his hands, looked at it, saw that +it was, as I expected, a summons to his lawyer, and thrust it into my +pocket, together with the letter from Mr. Clavering, which I perceived +lying spattered with blood on the table before me. Not till this was +done did I think of myself, or remember the echo which that low, sharp +report must have made in the house. Dropping the pistol at the side of +the murdered man, I stood ready to shriek to any one who entered that +Mr. Leavenworth had killed himself. But I was saved from committing such +a folly. The report had not been heard, or if so, had evidently failed +to create an alarm. No one came, and I was left to contemplate my +work undisturbed and decide upon the best course to be taken to avoid +detection. A moment’s study of the wound made in his head by the +bullet convinced me of the impossibility of passing the affair off as +a suicide, or even the work of a burglar. To any one versed in such +matters it was manifestly a murder, and a most deliberate one. My one +hope, then, lay in making it as mysterious as it was deliberate, by +destroying all clue to the motive and manner of the deed. Picking up the +pistol, I carried it into the other room with the intention of +cleaning it, but finding nothing there to do it with, came back for the +handkerchief I had seen lying on the floor at Mr. Leavenworth’s feet. It +was Miss Eleanore’s, but I did not know it till I had used it to clean +the barrel; then the sight of her initials in one corner so shocked me +I forgot to clean the cylinder, and only thought of how I could do +away with this evidence of her handkerchief having been employed for a +purpose so suspicious. Not daring to carry it from the room, I sought +for means to destroy it; but finding none, compromised the matter by +thrusting it deep down behind the cushion of one of the chairs, in the +hope of being able to recover and burn it the next day. This done, I +reloaded the pistol, locked it up, and prepared to leave the room. +But here the horror which usually follows such deeds struck me like a +thunderbolt and made me for the first time uncertain in my action. I +locked the door on going out, something I should never have done. Not +till I reached the top of the stairs did I realize my folly; and then it +was too late, for there before me, candle in hand, and surprise written +on every feature of her face, stood Hannah, one of the servants, looking +at me.</p> + +<p>“Lor, sir, where have you been?” she cried, but strange to say, in a +low tone. “You look as if you had seen a ghost.” And her eyes turned +suspiciously to the key which I held in my hand.</p> + +<p>I felt as if some one had clutched me round the throat. Thrusting the +key into my pocket, I took a step towards her. “I will tell you what I +have seen if you will come down-stairs,” I whispered; “the ladies will +be disturbed if we talk here,” and smoothing my brow as best I could, +I put out my hand and drew her towards me. What my motive was I hardly +knew; the action was probably instinctive; but when I saw the look which +came into her face as I touched her, and the alacrity with which she +prepared to follow me, I took courage, remembering the one or two +previous tokens I had had of this girl’s unreasonable susceptibility to +my influence; a susceptibility which I now felt could be utilized and +made to serve my purpose.</p> + +<p>Taking her down to the parlor floor, I drew her into the depths of +the great drawing-room, and there told her in the least alarming +way possible what had happened to Mr. Leavenworth. She was of course +intensely agitated, but she did not scream;—the novelty of her position +evidently bewildering her—and, greatly relieved, I went on to say that +I did not know who committed the deed, but that folks would declare it +was I if they knew I had been seen by her on the stairs with the library +key in my hand. “But I won’t tell,” she whispered, trembling violently +in her fright and eagerness. “I will keep it to myself. I will say I +didn’t see anybody.” But I soon convinced her that she could never keep +her secret if the police once began to question her, and, following +up my argument with a little cajolery, succeeded after a long while in +winning her consent to leave the house till the storm should be blown +over. But that given, it was some little time before I could make her +comprehend that she must depart at once and without going back after her +things. Not till I brightened up her wits by a promise to marry her some +day if she only obeyed me now, did she begin to look the thing in +the face and show any evidence of the real mother wit she evidently +possessed. “Mrs. Belden would take me in,” said she, “if I could only +get to R——. She takes everybody in who asks, her; and she would +keep me, too, if I told her Miss Mary sent me. But I can’t get there +to-night.”</p> + +<p>I immediately set to work to convince her that she could. The midnight +train did not leave the city for a half-hour yet, and the distance to +the depot could be easily walked by her in fifteen minutes. But she had +no money! I easily supplied that. And she was afraid she couldn’t find +her way! I entered into minutest directions. She still hesitated, but +at length consented to go, and with some further understanding of the +method I was to employ in communicating with her, we went down-stairs. +There we found a hat and shawl of the cook’s which I put on her, and in +another moment we were in the carriage yard. “Remember, you are to say +nothing of what has occurred, no matter what happens,” I whispered in +parting injunction as she turned to leave me. “Remember, you are to come +and marry me some day,” she murmured in reply, throwing her arms about +my neck. The movement was sudden, and it was probably at this time she +dropped the candle she had unconsciously held clenched in her hand till +now. I promised her, and she glided out of the gate.</p> + +<p>Of the dreadful agitation that followed the disappearance of this girl +I can give no better idea than by saying I not only committed the +additional error of locking up the house on my re-entrance, but omitted +to dispose of the key then in my pocket by flinging it into the street +or dropping it in the hall as I went up. The fact is, I was so absorbed +by the thought of the danger I stood in from this girl, I forgot +everything else. Hannah’s pale face, Hannah’s look of terror, as she +turned from my side and flitted down the street, were continually before +me. I could not escape them; the form of the dead man lying below was +less vivid. It was as though I were tied in fancy to this woman of the +white face fluttering down the midnight streets. That she would fail in +something—come back or be brought back—that I should find her standing +white and horror-stricken on the front steps when I went down in the +morning, was like a nightmare to me. I began to think no other result +possible; that she never would or could win her way unchallenged to that +little cottage in a distant village; that I had but sent a trailing flag +of danger out into the world with this wretched girl;—danger that would +come back to me with the first burst of morning light!</p> + +<p>But even those thoughts faded after a while before the realization +of the peril I was in as long as the key and papers remained in my +possession. How to get rid of them! I dared not leave my room again, +or open my window. Some one might see me and remember it. Indeed I was +afraid to move about in my room. Mr. Leavenworth might hear me. Yes, my +morbid terror had reached that point—I was fearful of one whose ears I +myself had forever closed, imagined him in his bed beneath and wakeful +to the least sound.</p> + +<p>But the necessity of doing something with these evidences of guilt +finally overcame this morbid anxiety, and drawing the two letters from +my pocket—I had not yet undressed—I chose out the most dangerous of +the two, that written by Mr. Leavenworth himself, and, chewing it till +it was mere pulp, threw it into a corner; but the other had blood on it, +and nothing, not even the hope of safety, could induce me to put it +to my lips. I was forced to lie with it clenched in my hand, and the +flitting image of Hannah before my eyes, till the slow morning broke. I +have heard it said that a year in heaven seems like a day; I can easily +believe it. I know that an hour in hell seems an eternity!</p> + +<p>But with daylight came hope. Whether it was that the sunshine glancing +on the wall made me think of Mary and all I was ready to do for her +sake, or whether it was the mere return of my natural stoicism in the +presence of actual necessity, I cannot say. I only know that I arose +calm and master of myself. The problem of the letter and key had solved +itself also. Hide them? I would not try to! Instead of that I would +put them in plain sight, trusting to that very fact for their being +overlooked. Making the letter up into lighters, I carried them into the +spare room and placed them in a vase. Then, taking the key in my hand, +went down-stairs, intending to insert it in the lock of the library door +as I went by. But Miss Eleanore descending almost immediately behind me +made this impossible. I succeeded, however, in thrusting it, without +her knowledge, among the filagree work of the gas-fixture in the +second hall, and thus relieved, went down into the breakfast room as +self-possessed a man as ever crossed its threshold. Mary was there, +looking exceedingly pale and disheartened, and as I met her eye, which +for a wonder turned upon me as I entered, I could almost have laughed, +thinking of the deliverance that had come to her, and of the time when I +should proclaim myself to be the man who had accomplished it.</p> + +<p>Of the alarm that speedily followed, and my action at that time and +afterwards, I need not speak in detail. I behaved just as I would have +done if I had had no hand in the murder. I even forbore to touch the key +or go to the spare room, or make any movement which I was not willing +all the world should see. For as things stood, there was not a shadow +of evidence against me in the house; neither was I, a hard-working, +uncomplaining secretary, whose passion for one of his employer’s nieces +was not even mistrusted by the lady herself, a person to be suspected +of the crime which threw him out of a fair situation. So I performed +all the duties of my position, summoning the police, and going for Mr. +Veeley, just as I would have done if those hours between me leaving +Mr. Leavenworth for the first time and going down to breakfast in the +morning had been blotted from my consciousness.</p> + +<p>And this was the principle upon which I based my action at the inquest. +Leaving that half-hour and its occurrences out of the question, I +resolved to answer such questions as might be put me as truthfully as +I could; the great fault with men situated as I was usually being that +they lied too much, thus committing themselves on unessential matters. +But alas, in thus planning for my own safety, I forgot one thing, +and that was the dangerous position in which I should thus place Mary +Leavenworth as the one benefited by the crime. Not till the inference +was drawn by a juror, from the amount of wine found in Mr. Leavenworth’s +glass in the morning, that he had come to his death shortly after my +leaving him, did I realize what an opening I had made for suspicion in +her direction by admitting that I had heard a rustle on the stair a few +minutes after going up. That all present believed it to have been made +by Eleanore, did not reassure me. She was so completely disconnected +with the crime I could not imagine suspicion holding to her for an +instant. But Mary—If a curtain had been let down before me, pictured +with the future as it has since developed, I could not have seen more +plainly what her position would be, if attention were once directed +towards her. So, in the vain endeavor to cover up my blunder, I began +to lie. Forced to admit that a shadow of disagreement had been lately +visible between Mr. Leavenworth and one of his nieces, I threw the +burden of it upon Eleanore, as the one best able to bear it. The +consequences were more serious than I anticipated. Direction had been +given to suspicion which every additional evidence that now came up +seemed by some strange fatality to strengthen. Not only was it proved +that Mr. Leavenworth’s own pistol had been used in the assassination, +and that too by a person then in the house, but I myself was brought +to acknowledge that Eleanore had learned from me, only a little while +before, how to load, aim, and fire this very pistol—a coincidence +mischievous enough to have been of the devil’s own making.</p> + +<p>Seeing all this, my fear of what the ladies would admit when questioned +became very great. Let them in their innocence acknowledge that, upon my +ascent, Mary had gone to her uncle’s room for the purpose of persuading +him not to carry into effect the action he contemplated, and what +consequences might not ensue! I was in a torment of apprehension. +But events of which I had at that time no knowledge had occurred to +influence them. Eleanore, with some show of reason, as it seems, not +only suspected her cousin of the crime, but had informed her of the +fact, and Mary, overcome with terror at finding there was more or +less circumstantial evidence supporting the suspicion, decided to deny +whatever told against herself, trusting to Eleanore’s generosity not to +be contradicted. Nor was her confidence misplaced. Though, by the course +she took, Eleanore was forced to deepen the prejudice already rife +against herself, she not only forbore to contradict her cousin, but when +a true answer would have injured her, actually refused to return any, +a lie being something she could not utter, even to save one especially +endeared to her.</p> + +<p>This conduct of hers had one effect upon me. It aroused my admiration +and made me feel that here was a woman worth helping if assistance could +be given without danger to myself. Yet I doubt if my sympathy would have +led me into doing anything, if I had not perceived, by the stress laid +upon certain well-known matters, that actual danger hovered about us +all while the letter and key remained in the house. Even before the +handkerchief was produced, I had made up my mind to attempt their +destruction; but when that was brought up and shown, I became so alarmed +I immediately rose and, making my way under some pretence or other to +the floors above, snatched the key from the gas-fixture, the +lighters from the vase, and hastening with them down the hall to Mary +Leavenworth’s room, went in under the expectation of finding a fire +there in which to destroy them. But, to my heavy disappointment, there +were only a few smoldering ashes in the grate, and, thwarted in my +design, I stood hesitating what to do, when I heard some one coming +up-stairs. Alive to the consequences of being found in that room at that +time, I cast the lighters into the grate and started for the door. But +in the quick move I made, the key flew from my hand and slid under a +chair. Aghast at the mischance, I paused, but the sound of approaching +steps increasing, I lost all control over myself and fled from the room. +And indeed I had no time to lose. I had barely reached my own door when +Eleanore Leavenworth, followed by two servants, appeared at the top of +the staircase and proceeded towards the room I had just left. The sight +reassured me; she would see the key, and take some means of disposing +of it; and indeed I always supposed her to have done so, for no further +word of key or letter ever came to my ears. This may explain why the +questionable position in which Eleanore soon found herself awakened in +me no greater anxiety. I thought the suspicions of the police rested +upon nothing more tangible than the peculiarity of her manner at the +inquest and the discovery of her handkerchief on the scene of the +tragedy. I did not know they possessed what might be called absolute +proof of her connection with the crime. But if I had, I doubt if my +course would have been any different. Mary’s peril was the one thing +capable of influencing me, and she did not appear to be in peril. On the +contrary, every one, by common consent, seemed to ignore all appearance +of guilt on her part. If Mr. Gryce, whom I soon learned to fear, had +given one sign of suspicion, or Mr. Raymond, whom I speedily recognized +as my most persistent though unconscious foe, had betrayed the least +distrust of her, I should have taken warning. But they did not, and, +lulled into a false security by their manner, I let the days go by +without suffering any fears on her account. But not without many +anxieties for myself. Hannah’s existence precluded all sense of personal +security. Knowing the determination of the police to find her, I trod +the verge of an awful suspense continually.</p> + +<p>Meantime the wretched certainty was forcing itself upon me that I had +lost, instead of gained, a hold on Mary Leavenworth. Not only did she +evince the utmost horror of the deed which had made her mistress of +her uncle’s wealth, but, owing, as I believed, to the influence of Mr. +Raymond, soon gave evidence that she was losing, to a certain extent, +the characteristics of mind and heart which had made me hopeful of +winning her by this deed of blood. This revelation drove me almost +insane. Under the terrible restraint forced upon me, I walked my weary +round in a state of mind bordering on frenzy. Many and many a time have +I stopped in my work, wiped my pen and laid it down with the idea that +I could not repress myself another moment, but I have always taken it +up again and gone on with my task. Mr. Raymond has sometimes shown his +wonder at my sitting in my dead employer’s chair. Great heaven! it was +my only safeguard. By keeping the murder constantly before my mind, I +was enabled to restrain myself from any inconsiderate action.</p> + +<p>At last there came a time when my agony could be no longer suppressed. +Going down the stairs one evening with Mr. Raymond, I saw a strange +gentleman standing in the reception room, looking at Mary Leavenworth +in a way that would have made my blood boil, even if I had not heard him +whisper these words: “But you are my wife, and know it, whatever you may +say or do!”</p> + +<p>It was the lightning-stroke of my life. After what I had done to make +her mine, to hear another claim her as already his own, was stunning, +maddening! It forced a demonstration from me. I had either to yell in +my fury or deal the man beneath some tremendous blow in my hatred. I did +not dare to shriek, so I struck the blow. Demanding his name from Mr. +Raymond, and hearing that it was, as I expected, Clavering, I flung +caution, reason, common sense, all to the winds, and in a moment of fury +denounced him as the murderer of Mr. Leavenworth.</p> + +<p>The next instant I would have given worlds to recall my words. What had +I done but drawn attention to myself in thus accusing a man against whom +nothing could of course be proved! But recall now was impossible. +So, after a night of thought, I did the next best thing: gave a +superstitious reason for my action, and so restored myself to my former +position without eradicating from the mind of Mr. Raymond that vague +doubt of the man which my own safety demanded. But I had no intention of +going any further, nor should I have done so if I had not observed that +for some reason Mr. Raymond was willing to suspect Mr. Clavering. But +that once seen, revenge took possession of me, and I asked myself if the +burden of this crime could be thrown on this man. Still I do not believe +that any active results would have followed this self-questioning if I +had not overheard a whispered conversation between two of the servants, +in which I learned that Mr. Clavering had been seen to enter the +house on the night of the murder, but was not seen to leave it. That +determined me. With such a fact for a starting-point, what might I not +hope to accomplish? Hannah alone stood in my way. While she remained +alive I saw nothing but ruin before me. I made up my mind to destroy +her and satisfy my hatred of Mr. Clavering at one blow. But how? By what +means could I reach her without deserting my post, or make away with +her without exciting fresh suspicion? The problem seemed insolvable; +but Trueman Harwell had not played the part of a machine so long without +result. Before I had studied the question a day, light broke upon it, +and I saw that the only way to accomplish my plans was to inveigle her +into destroying herself.</p> + +<p>No sooner had this thought matured than I hastened to act upon it. +Knowing the tremendous risk I ran, I took every precaution. Locking +myself up in my room, I wrote her a letter in printed characters—she +having distinctly told me she could not read writing—in which I played +upon her ignorance, foolish fondness, and Irish superstition, by telling +her I dreamed of her every night and wondered if she did of me; was +afraid she didn’t, so enclosed her a little charm, which, if she would +use according to directions, would give her the most beautiful visions. +These directions were for her first to destroy my letter by burning it, +next to take in her hand the packet I was careful to enclose, swallow +the powder accompanying it, and go to bed. The powder was a deadly dose +of poison and the packet was, as you know, a forged confession falsely +criminating Henry Clavering. Enclosing all these in an envelope in +the corner of which I had marked a cross, I directed it, according to +agreement, to Mrs. Belden, and sent it.</p> + +<p>Then followed the greatest period of suspense I had yet endured. Though +I had purposely refrained from putting my name to the letter, I felt +that the chances of detection were very great. Let her depart in the +least particular from the course I had marked out for her, and fatal +results must ensue. If she opened the enclosed packet, mistrusted the +powder, took Mrs. Belden into her confidence, or even failed to burn my +letter, all would be lost. I could not be sure of her or know the result +of my scheme except through the newspapers. Do you think I kept watch +of the countenances about me? devoured the telegraphic news, or started +when the bell rang? And when, a few days since, I read that short +paragraph in the paper which assured me that my efforts had at least +produced the death of the woman I feared, do you think I experienced any +sense of relief?</p> + +<p>But of that why speak? In six hours had come the summons from Mr. Gryce, +and—let these prison walls, this confession itself, tell the rest. I am +no longer capable of speech or action.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXIX_THE_OUTCOME_OF_A_GREAT_CRIME">XXXIX. THE OUTCOME OF A GREAT CRIME</h2> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent4">“Leave her to Heaven</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To prick and sting her.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent8">Hamlet</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“For she is wise, if I can judge of her;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And true she is, as she has proved herself;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And therefore like herself, wise, fair, and true,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shall she be placed in my constant soul.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent11">Merchant of Venice.</div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>“Oh, Eleanore!” I cried, as I made my way into her presence, “are you +prepared for very good news? News that will brighten these pale cheeks +and give the light back to these eyes, and make life hopeful and sweet +to you once more? Tell me,” I urged, stooping over her where she sat, +for she looked ready to faint.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” she faltered; “I fear your idea of good news and mine +may differ. No news can be good but——”</p> + +<p>“What?” I asked, taking her hands in mine with a smile that ought to +have reassured her, it was one of such profound happiness. “Tell me; do +not be afraid.”</p> + +<p>But she was. Her dreadful burden had lain upon her so long it had become +a part of her being. How could she realize it was founded on a mistake; +that she had no cause to fear the past, present, or future?</p> + +<p>But when the truth was made known to her; when, with all the fervor and +gentle tact of which I was capable, I showed her that her suspicions had +been groundless, and that Trueman Harwell, and not Mary, was accountable +for the evidences of crime which had led her into attributing to her +cousin the guilt of her uncle’s death, her first words were a prayer to +be taken to the one she had so wronged. “Take me to her! Oh, take me to +her! I cannot breathe or think till I have begged pardon of her on my +knees. Oh, my unjust accusation! My unjust accusation!”</p> + +<p>Seeing the state she was in, I deemed it wise to humor her. So, +procuring a carriage, I drove with her to her cousin’s home.</p> + +<p>“Mary will spurn me; she will not even look at me; and she will be +right!” she cried, as we rolled away up the avenue. “An outrage like +this can never be forgiven. But God knows I thought myself justified in +my suspicions. If you knew—”</p> + +<p>“I do know,” I interposed. “Mary acknowledges that the circumstantial +evidence against her was so overwhelming, she was almost staggered +herself, asking if she could be guiltless with such proofs against her. +But——”</p> + +<p>“Wait, oh, wait; did Mary say that?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“To-day?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Mary must be changed.”</p> + +<p>I did not answer; I wanted her to see for herself the extent of that +change. But when, in a few minutes later, the carriage stopped and I +hurried with her into the house which had been the scene of so much +misery, I was hardly prepared for the difference in her own countenance +which the hall light revealed. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks were +brilliant, her brow lifted and free from shadow; so quickly does the ice +of despair melt in the sunshine of hope.</p> + +<p>Thomas, who had opened the door, was sombrely glad to see his mistress +again. “Miss Leavenworth is in the drawing-room,” said he.</p> + +<p>I nodded, then seeing that Eleanore could scarcely move for agitation, +asked her whether she would go in at once, or wait till she was more +composed.</p> + +<p>“I will go in at once; I cannot wait.” And slipping from my grasp, she +crossed the hall and laid her hand upon the drawing-room curtain, when +it was suddenly lifted from within and Mary stepped out.</p> + +<p>“Mary!”</p> + +<p>“Eleanore!”</p> + +<p>The ring of those voices told everything. I did not need to glance their +way to know that Eleanore had fallen at her cousin’s feet, and that +her cousin had affrightedly lifted her. I did not need to hear: “My sin +against you is too great; you cannot forgive me!” followed by the low: +“My shame is great enough to lead me to forgive anything!” to know that +the lifelong shadow between these two had dissolved like a cloud, and +that, for the future, bright days of mutual confidence and sympathy were +in store.</p> + +<p>Yet when, a half-hour or so later, I heard the door of the reception +room, into which I had retired, softly open, and looking up, saw Mary +standing on the threshold, with the light of true humility on her face, +I own that I was surprised at the softening which had taken place in +her haughty beauty. “Blessed is the shame that purifies,” I inwardly +murmured, and advancing, held out my hand with a respect and sympathy I +never thought to feel for her again.</p> + +<p>The action seemed to touch her. Blushing deeply, she came and stood by +my side. “I thank you,” said she. “I have much to be grateful for; how +much I never realized till to-night; but I cannot speak of it now. What +I wish is for you to come in and help me persuade Eleanore to accept +this fortune from my hands. It is hers, you know; was willed to her, or +would have been if—”</p> + +<p>“Wait,” said I, in the trepidation which this appeal to me on such a +subject somehow awakened. “Have you weighed this matter well? Is it your +determined purpose to transfer your fortune into your cousin’s hands?”</p> + +<p>Her look was enough without the low, “Ah, how can you ask me?” that +followed it.</p> + +<p>Mr. Clavering was sitting by the side of Eleanore when we entered the +drawing-room. He immediately rose, and drawing me to one side, earnestly +said:</p> + +<p>“Before the courtesies of the hour pass between us, Mr. Raymond, allow +me to tender you my apology. You have in your possession a document +which ought never to have been forced upon you. Founded upon a mistake, +the act was an insult which I bitterly regret. If, in consideration of +my mental misery at that time, you can pardon it, I shall feel forever +indebted to you; if not——”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Clavering, say no more. The occurrences of that day belong to +a past which I, for one, have made up my mind to forget as soon as +possible. The future promises too richly for us to dwell on bygone +miseries.”</p> + +<p>And with a look of mutual understanding and friendship we hastened to +rejoin the ladies.</p> + +<p>Of the conversation that followed, it is only necessary to state the +result. Eleanore, remaining firm in her refusal to accept property so +stained by guilt, it was finally agreed upon that it should be devoted +to the erection and sustainment of some charitable institution of +magnitude sufficient to be a recognized benefit to the city and its +unfortunate poor. This settled, our thoughts returned to our friends, +especially to Mr. Veeley.</p> + +<p>“He ought to know,” said Mary. “He has grieved like a father over us.” +And, in her spirit of penitence, she would have undertaken the unhappy +task of telling him the truth.</p> + +<p>But Eleanore, with her accustomed generosity, would not hear of this. +“No, Mary,” said she; “you have suffered enough. Mr. Raymond and I will +go.”</p> + +<p>And leaving them there, with the light of growing hope and confidence on +their faces, we went out again into the night, and so into a dream from +which I have never waked, though the shine of her dear eyes have been +now the load-star of my life for many happy, happy months.</p> + + +<p class="center">THE END</p> + + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LEAVENWORTH CASE ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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