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diff --git a/old/4047-h/4047-h.htm b/old/4047-h/4047-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..605614b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/4047-h/4047-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,16987 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Leavenworth Case, by Anna Katherine Green + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Leavenworth Case, by Anna Katherine Green + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Leavenworth Case + +Author: Anna Katherine Green + +Release Date: January 8, 2010 [EBook #4047] +Last Updated: February 4, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LEAVENWORTH CASE *** + + + + +Produced by David Moynihan, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE LEAVENWORTH CASE + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Anna Katherine Green + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>BOOK I.</b> </a> <b>THE + PROBLEM</b> <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I. </a> "A + GREAT CASE” <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II. </a> THE + CORONER’S INQUEST <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III. </a> FACTS + AND DEDUCTIONS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> IV. </a> A + CUTS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> V. </a> EXPERT + TESTIMONY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VI. </a> SIDE-LIGHTS + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VII. </a> MARY + LEAVENWORTH <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> VIII. </a> CIRCUMSTANTIAL + EVIDENCE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> IX. </a> A + DISCOVERY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> X. </a> MR. + GRYCE RECEIVES NEW IMPETUS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> XI. </a> THE + SUMMONS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> XII. </a> ELEANORES + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> XIII. </a> THE PROBLEM + <br /><br /> <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> <b>BOOK II.</b> </a> <b>HENRY + CLAVERING</b> <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> XIV. </a> MR. + GRYCE AT HOME <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> XV. </a> WAYS + OPENING <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> XVI. </a> THE + WILL OF A MILLIONAIRE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> XVII. </a> THE + BEGINNING OF GREAT SURPRISES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> XVIII. + </a> ON THE STAIRS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> XIX. + </a> IN MY OFFICE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> XX. + </a> "TRUEMAN! TRUEMAN! TRUEMAN!” <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0023"> XXI. </a> A PREJUDICE <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0024"> XXII. </a> PATCH-WORK <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0025"> XXIII. </a> THE STORY OF A CHARMING + WOMAN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> XXIV. </a> A + REPORT FOLLOWED BY SMOKE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> XXV. </a> TIMOTHY + COOK <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> XXVI. </a> MR. + GRYCE EXPLAINS HIMSELF <br /><br /> <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> <b>BOOK + III.</b> </a> <b>HANNAH</b> <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0030"> XXVII. </a> AMY BELDEN <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0031"> XXVIII. </a> A WEIRD EXPERIENCE <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> XXIX. </a> THE MISSING WITNESS + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0033"> XXX. </a> BURNED PAPER + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0034"> XXXI. </a> "THEREBY + HANGS A TALE.” <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0035"> XXXII. </a> MRS. + BELDEN’S NARRATIVE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0036"> XXXIII. </a> UNEXPECTED + TESTIMONY <br /><br /> <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0037"> <b>BOOK IV.</b> + </a> <b>THE PROBLEM SOLVED</b> <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0038"> XXXIV. </a> MR. GRYCE RESUMES CONTROL + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0039"> XXXV. </a> FINE WORK + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0040"> XXXVI. </a> GATHERED + THREADS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0041"> XXXVII. </a> CULMINATION + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0042"> XXXVIII. </a> A FULL + CONFESSION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0043"> XXXIX. </a> THE + OUTCOME OF A GREAT CRIME <br /><br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + BOOK I. THE PROBLEM + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. “A GREAT CASE” + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “A deed of dreadful note.” + —Macbeth. +</pre> + <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 businesslike 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. “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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. THE CORONER’S INQUEST + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The baby figure of the giant mass + Of things to come.” + —Troilus and Cressida. +</pre> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. FACTS AND DEDUCTIONS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Confusion now hath made his master-piece; + Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope + The Lord’s anointed temple, and stolen thence + The life of the building.” + —Macbeth. +</pre> + <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 upstairs 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 wine-glass 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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. A CLUE. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Something is rotten in the State of Denmark.” + Hamlet. +</pre> + <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 downstairs, 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 upstairs 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 upstairs, 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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. EXPERT TESTIMONY + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “And often-times, to win us to our harm, + The instruments of darkness tell us truths; + Win us with honest trifles, to betray us + In deepest consequence.” + + Macbeth. +</pre> + <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 passage-way, + 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> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. SIDE-LIGHTS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Oh! she has beauty might ensnare + A conqueror’s soul, and make him leave his crown + At random, to be scuffled for by slaves.” + + OTWAY. +</pre> + <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> + <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> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. MARY LEAVENWORTH + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “For this relief much thanks.” + Hamlet. +</pre> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “O dark, dark, dark!” + </pre> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX. A DISCOVERY + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “His rolling Eies did never rest in place, + But walkte each where for feare of hid mischance, + Holding a lattis still before his Pace, + Through which he still did peep as forward he did pace.” + + Faerie Queene. +</pre> + <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> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X. MR. GRYCE RECEIVES NEW IMPETUS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “There’s nothing ill + Can dwell in such a temple.” + + Tempest. +</pre> + <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 pocket-book. + </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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SHOCKING MURDER + + MR. LEAVENWORTH, THE WELL-KNOWN MILLIONAIRE, FOUND DEAD IN HIS ROOM + + NO CLUE TO THE PERPETRATOR OF THE DEED + + THE AWFUL CRIME COMMITTED WITH A PISTOL—EXTRAORDINARY FEATURES OF + THE AFFAIR +</pre> + <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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “WASHINGTON, D. C. + + “Mr. Everett Raymond— + + “Mr. Veeley is lying at my house ill. Have not shown him telegram, + fearing results. Will do so as soon as advisable. + + “Thomas Loworthy.” + </pre> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI. THE SUMMONS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The pink of courtesy.” + Romeo and Juliet. +</pre> + <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> + <p> + “<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> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XII. ELEANORE. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Constant you are— + ... And for secrecy + No lady closer.” + + Henry IV. + + “No, ‘t is slander, + Whose edge is sharper than the sword whose tongue + Outvenoms all the worms of Nile.” + + Cymbeline. +</pre> + <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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + THE LEAVENWORTH MURDER + + LATEST DEVELOPMENTS IN THE MYSTERIOUS CASE + + A MEMBER OF THE MURDERED MAN’S OWN FAMILY + STRONGLY SUSPECTED OF THE CRIME + + THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IN NEW YORK UNDER A CLOUD + + PAST HISTORY OF MISS ELEANORE LEAVENWORTH +</pre> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIII. THE PROBLEM + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “But who would force the soul, tilts with a straw + Against a champion cased in adamant.” + Wordsworth. +</pre> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK II. HENRY CLAVERING + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIV. MR. GRYCE AT HOME + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Nay, but hear me.” + Measure for Measure. +</pre> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XV. WAYS OPENING + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “It is not and it cannot come to good.” + Hamlet. +</pre> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVI. THE WILL OF A MILLIONAIRE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, + Which we ascribe to Heaven.” + All’s Well that Ends Well. +</pre> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVII. THE BEGINNING OF GREAT SURPRISES + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “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.” + Les Miserables. +</pre> + <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 + upstairs, 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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVIII. ON THE STAIRS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “You cannot <i>say</i> I did it.” + Macbeth. +</pre> + <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> + <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 upstairs, 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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “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. + + “M.” + </pre> + <p> + And below: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “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!” + </pre> + <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 tonight, 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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIX. IN MY OFFICE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Something between an hindrance and a help.” + Wordsworth. +</pre> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XX. “TRUEMAN! TRUEMAN! TRUEMAN!” + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Often do the spirits + Of great events stride on before the events, + And in to-day already walks to-morrow.” + Coleridge. +</pre> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXI. A PREJUDICE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “True, I talk of dreams, + Which are the children of an idle brain + Begot of nothing but vain phantasy.” + —Romeo and Juliet. +</pre> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXII. PATCH-WORK + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Come, give us a taste of your quality.” + Hamlet. +</pre> + <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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “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. + + “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. + + “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. + + “Business here conducted by ——. In the country, —— of —— has + charge of the property. + + “BROWN.” + </pre> + <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> + “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; Sir</i> + after <i>Dear; have</i> with a possible <i>you</i> before <i>a niece; + thorn</i> after <i>its</i> in the phrase <i>rose has its; on after + trampling; whom</i> after <i>to; debt after a; you</i> after <i>If; me ask</i> + after <i>believe; 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> + <p> + “—————— House.” March 1st, 1876. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Mr. Horatio Leavenworth; 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<br />heart a<br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + him to whom she owes a debt of honor a ance + </p> + <p> + “If you don’t believe me ask her to her cruel + beautiful face what is (her) humble servant yours: + </p> + <p> + “Henry Ritchie Clavering.” + </p> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIII. THE STORY OF A CHARMING WOMAN + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Fe, fi, fo, fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman.” + —Old Song. + + “I hold you as a thing enskied and sainted.” + —Measure for Measure. +</pre> + <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. + On my way downstairs, 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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIV. A REPORT FOLLOWED BY SMOKE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Oft expectation fails, and most oft there + Where most it promises; and oft it hits + Where Hope is coldest, and Despair most sits.” + —All’s Well that Ends Well. +</pre> + <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> + <p> + I arrived at the depot just as the train came in. + </p> + <p> + 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> + <p> + “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> + “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> + <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> + <p> + “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> + <p> + Next morning came the following telegram: + </p> + <p> + “T. C. on the road. Remembers a marriage. Will be with you by 2 p.m.” + </p> + <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> + <p> + “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> + “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> + <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> + <p> + “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> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXV. TIMOTHY COOK + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Look here upon this picture and on this.” + —Hamlet. +</pre> + <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 + mantelpiece, 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 mantelpiece,” 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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXVI. MR. GRYCE EXPLAINS HIMSELF + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Sits the wind in that corner?” + —Much Ado about Nothing. +</pre> + <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 tomorrow 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> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK III. HANNAH + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXVII. AMY BELDEN + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “A merrier man + Within the limits of becoming mirth, + I never spent an hour’s talk withal.” + —Love’s Labour’s Last. +</pre> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXVIII. A WEIRD EXPERIENCE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Flat burglary as ever was committed.” + —Much Ado about Nothing. +</pre> + <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> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIX. THE MISSING WITNESS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “I fled and cried out death.” + —Milton. +</pre> + <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> + <p> + “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> + <p> + Sketched below this was the following plan of the upper floor: + </p> + <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 backdoor, 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> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0033" id="link2H_4_0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXX. BURNED PAPER + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “I could have better spared a better man.” + —Henry IV. +</pre> + <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> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0034" id="link2H_4_0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXI. “THEREBY HANGS A TALE.” + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + —Taming of the Shrew. +</pre> + <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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “DEAR, DEAR FRIEND: + + “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 + + “ONE WHO LOVES YOU.” + </pre> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0035" id="link2H_4_0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXII. MRS. BELDEN’S NARRATIVE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Cursed, destructive Avarice, + Thou everlasting foe to Love and Honor.” + —Trap’s Abram. + + “Mischief never thrives + Without the help of Woman.” + —The Same. +</pre> + <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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Have the loveliest story of the season ready for me tomorrow; 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, + + “MARY.” + </pre> + <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> + <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 upstairs, where it has + lain undisturbed till last night. + </p> + <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> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0036" id="link2H_4_0036"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXIII. UNEXPECTED TESTIMONY + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + <i>Pol.</i> What do you read, my lord? + <i>Ham.</i> Words, words, words. + —Hamlet. +</pre> + <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> + <p> + “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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0037" id="link2H_4_0037"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK IV. THE PROBLEM SOLVED + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0038" id="link2H_4_0038"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXIV. MR. GRYCE RESUMES CONTROL + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “It out-herods Herod.” + —Hamlet. + + “A thing devised by the enemy.” + —Richard III +</pre> + <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 + upstairs, 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 upstairs, 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 upstairs 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 upstairs 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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0039" id="link2H_4_0039"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXV. FINE WORK + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “No hinge nor loop + To hang a doubt on!” + “But yet the pity of it, Iago! + Oh, Iago, the pity of it, Iago.” + —Othello. +</pre> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0040" id="link2H_4_0040"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXVI. GATHERED THREADS + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “This is the short and the long of it.” + —Merry Wives of Windsor. +</pre> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0041" id="link2H_4_0041"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXVII. CULMINATION + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Saint seducing gold.” + —Romeo and Juliet. + + “When our actions do not, + Our fears do make us traitors.” + --Macbeth. +</pre> + <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> + <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> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0042" id="link2H_4_0042"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXVIII. A FULL CONFESSION + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Between the acting of a dreadful thing, + And the first motion, all the interim is + Like a phantasma or a hideous dream; + The genius and the mortal instruments + Are then in council; and the state of a man, + Like to a little Kingdom, suffers then + The nature of an insurrection.” + —Julius Caesar. +</pre> + <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> + <p> + “HOFFMAN HOUSE, + </p> + <p> + “March 1, 1876.” + </p> + <p> + 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> + “Henry Ritchie Clavering.” + </p> + <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 upstairs, 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 passage-way 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 passage-way 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> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0043" id="link2H_4_0043"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXIX. THE OUTCOME OF A GREAT CRIME + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Leave her to Heaven + And to those thorns that + In her bosom lodge + To prick and sting her.” + —Hamlet + + “For she is wise, if I can judge of her; + And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true; + And true she is, as she has proved herself; + And therefore like herself, wise, fair, and true, + Shall she be placed in my constant soul.” + —Merchant of Venice. +</pre> + <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> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s The Leavenworth Case, by Anna Katherine Green + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LEAVENWORTH CASE *** + +***** This file should be named 4047-h.htm or 4047-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/4/4047/ + +Produced by David Moynihan, and David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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