The Darrow enigma
Melvin Linwood Severy



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NOVVMMENTVM
DEI SVB
CIB NVMIN E-VIGE
PRINCETON
UNIVERSITY
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OM
ST
BUT
GWEN DARROW.


The
Darrow Enigma
By Melvin L. Severy
With Illustrations by
C. D. WILLIAMS
NEW YORK
Dodd, Mead & Company
1904


COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY
DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY
All rights reserved
Published March, 1904


CONTENTS
PAGE
.
60
.
.
.
.
123
164
THE EPISODE OF THE DARKENED ROOM
Chapter I .
Chapter II .
Chapter III .
Chapter IV . . . . .
THE EPISODE OF THE SEALED DOCUMENT
Chapter I . . . .
THE EPISODE OF RAMA RAGOBAH
Chapter I .
. .
.
.
. Chapter II · ·
•
THE EPISODE OF THE PARALLEL READERS
Chapter I .
Chapter II . .
Chapter III .
THE EPISODE OF THE TELLTALE THUMB
Chapter 1 :
Chapter II.
Chapter III . .
Chapter IV.
Chapter V . . . .
v
CEC 101914
anon)
m e
•
•
.
181
213
239
259
268
312
327
. 334
3923
165
,328








THE DARROW ENIGMA
CHAPTER I
What shall we say when Dream-Pictures leave their frames of
night and push us from the waking world?
S the part I played in the events I am
about to narrate was rather that of a
passive observer than of an active par-
ticipant, I need say little of myself. I am a grad-
uate of a Western university and, by profession, a
physician. My practice is now extensive, owing to
my blundering into fame in a somewhat singular
manner, but a year ago I had, I assure you, little
enough to do. Inasmuch as my practice is now se-
cure, I feel perfectly free to confess that the cure I
effected in the now celebrated case of Mrs. P-
was altogether the result of chance, and not, as I
was then only too glad to have people believe, due to
an almost supernatural power of diagnosis.
Mrs. P— was not more surprised at the happy
result than was I; the only difference being that she
showed her astonishment, while I endeavoured to


THE DARROW ENIGMA
conceal mine, and affected to look upon the whole
thing as a matter of course.
My fame spread; the case got into the medical
journals, where my skill was much lauded, and my
practice became enormous. There is but one thing
further I need mention regarding myself: that is,
that I am possessed of a memory which my friends
are pleased to consider phenomenal. I can repeat a
lecture, sermon, or conversation almost word for
word after once hearing it, provided always, that
the subject commands my interest. My humble abil-
ities in this direction have never ceased to be a source
of wonderment to my acquaintance, though I con-
fess, for my own part, when I compare them with
those of Blind Tom, or of the man who, after a sin-
gle reading, could correctly repeat the London Times,
advertisements and all, they seem modest indeed.
It was about the time when, owing to the blessed
Mrs. P- , my creditors were beginning to receive
some attention, that I first met George Maitland.
He had need, he said, of my professional services; he
felt much under the weather; could I give him some-
thing which would brace him up a bit; he had some
important chemical work on hand which he could not
afford to put by; in fact, he didn't mind saying that


THE DARROW ENIGMA 5
he was at work upon a table of atomical pitches to
match Dalton's atomic weights; if he succeeded in
what he had undertaken he would have solved the
secret of the love and hatred of atoms, and unions
hitherto unknown could easily be effected.
I do not know how long he would have continued
had not my interest in the subject caused me to inter-
rupt him. I was something of an experimenter my-
self, and here was a man who could help me.
It was a dream of mine that the great majority
of ailments could be cured by analysing a patient's
blood, and then injecting into his veins such chem-
icals as were found wanting, or were necessary to
counteract the influence of any deleterious matter
present. There were, of course, difficulties in the
way, but had they not already at Cornell University
done much the same for vegetable life? And did
not those plants which had been set in sea sand out
of which every particle of nutriment had been
roasted, and which were then artificially fed with a
solution of the chemicals of which they were known
to be composed, grow twice as rank as those which
had been set in the soil ordinarily supposed to be
best adapted to them? What was the difference be-
tween a human cell and a plant cell? Yes, since my


6 THE D ARROW ENIGMA
W
patient was a chemist, I would cultivate his acquaint-
ance.
He proceeded to tell me how he felt, but I could
make nothing of it, so I forthwith did the regulation
thing; what should we doctors do without it! I
looked at his tongue, pulled down his eyelid, and
pronounced him bilious. Yes, there were the little
brown spots under his skin-freckles, perhaps—and
probably he had an occasional ringing in his ears.
He was willing to admit that he was dizzy on sud-
denly rising from a stooping posture, and that eggs,
milk, and coffee were poison to him; and he after-
ward told me he should have said the same of any
other three articles I might have mentioned, for he
looked so hale and vigorous, and felt so disgrace-
fully well, that he was ashamed of himself. We have
had many a laugh over it since. The fact of the
matter is the only affliction from which he was suf-
fering was an inordinate desire to make my acquaint-
ance. Not for my own sake-oh, dear, no !but
because I was John Darrow's family physician, and
would be reasonably sure to know Gwen Darrow, that
gentleman's daughter. He had first met her, he told
me after we had become intimate, at an exhibition of
paintings by William T. Richards,—but, as you will


THE DARROW ENIGMA
c.
soon be wondering if it were, on his part, a case of
love at first sight, I had best relate the incident to
you in his own words as he told it to me. This will
relieve me of passing any judgment upon the matter,
for you will then know as much about it as I, and,
doubtless, be quite as capable of answering the ques-
tion, for candour compels me to own that my knowl-
edge of the human heart is entirely professional.
Think of searching for Cupid's darts with a stetho-
scope!
“I was standing,” Maitland said, “before a
masterpiece of sea and rock, such as only Richards
can paint. It was a view of Land's End, Cornwall,
and in the artist's very best vein. My admiration
made me totally unmindful of my surroundings, so
much so, indeed, that, although the gallery was
crowded, I caught myself expressing my delight in
a perfectly audible undertone. My enthusiasm, since
it was addressed to no one, soon began to attract
attention, and people stopped looking at the pic-
tures to look at me. I was conscious of this in a
vague, far-off way, much as one is conscious of a
conversation which seems to have followed him across
the borderland of sleep, and I even thought that I
ought to be embarrassed. How long I remained
ca
LS
&
V


8 THE D ARROW ENIGMA
thus transported I do not know. The first thing I
remember is hearing someone close beside me take a
quick, deep breath, one of those full inhalations nat-
ural to all sensitive natures when they come suddenly
upon something sublime. I turned and looked. I
have said I was transported by that canvas of sea
and rocks, and have, therefore, no word left to de-
scribe the emotion with which I gazed upon the ex-
quisite, living, palpitating picture beside me. A
composite photograph of all the Madonnas ever
painted, from the Sistine to Bodenhausen's, could
not have been more lovely, more ineffably womanly
than that young girl, radiant with the divine glow of
artistic delight—at least, that is my opinion, which,
by the bye, I should, perhaps, have stated a little
more gingerly, inasmuch as you are yourself ac-
quainted with the young lady. Now, don't look in-
credulous [noticing my surprise). Black hair—not
brown, black; clear pink and white complexion; large,
deep violet eyes with a remarkable poise to them.”—
Here I continued the description for him:“ Slight of
figure; a full, honest waist, without a suggestion of
that execrable death-trap, Dame Fashion's hideous
cuirass; a little above middle height; deliberate,
and therefore graceful, in all her movements;


THE DARROW ENIGMA 9
carries herself in a way to impress one with the
idea that she is innocent, without that time-honoured
concomitant, ignorance; half girl, half woman; shy,
yet strong; and in a word, very beautiful—that's
Gwen Darrow.” I paused here, and Maitland went
on somewhat dubiously: “ Yes, it's not hard to locate
such a woman. She makes her presence as clearly
felt among a million of her sex as does a grain of
fuchsine in a hogshead of water. If, with a few
ounces of this, Tyndall could colour Lake Geneva,
80 with Gwen Darrow one might, such is the power
of the ideal, change the ethical status of a conti-
nent.”
He then told me how he had made a study of Miss
Darrow's movements, and had met her many times
since; in fact, so often that he fancied, from some-
thing in her manner, that she had begun to wonder
if his frequent appearance were not something more
than a coincidence. The fear that she might think
him dogging her footsteps worried him, and he
began as sedulously to avoid the places he knew she
frequented, as he previously had sought them. This,
he confessed, made him utterly miserable. He had,
to be sure, never spoken to her, but it was every-
thing to be able to see her. When he could endure


10 THE DARROW ENIGMA
it no longer he had come to me under pretence of
feeling ill, that he might, when he had made my ac-
quaintance, get me to introduce him to the Darrows.
You will understand, of course, that I did not learn
all this at our first interview. Maitland did not
take me into his confidence until we had had a confer-
ence at his laboratory devoted entirely to scientific
speculations. On this occasion he surprised me not a
little by turning to me suddenly and saying: “ Some
of the grandest sacrifices the world has ever known,
if one may judge by the fortitude they require, and
the pain they cause, have occurred in the labo-
ratory.” I looked at him inquiringly, and he con-
tinued: “When a man, simply for the great love of
truth that is in him, has given his life to the solution
of some problem, and has at last arrived, after years
of closest application, at some magnificent general-
isation—when he has, perhaps, published his con-
clusions, and received the grateful homage of all
lovers of truth, his life has, indeed, borne fruit. Of
him may it then be justly said that his
“... life hath blossomed downward like
The purple bell-flower.'
But suddenly, in the privacy of his laboratory, a


THE DARROW ENIGMA 11
single fact arises from the test-tube in his trembling
hand and confronts him! His brain reels; the glass
torment falls upon the floor, and shatters into count-
less pieces, but he is not conscious of it, for he feels
it thrust through his heart. When he recovers from
the first shock, he can only ejaculate: 'Is it possible?'
After a little he is able to reason. “I was fatigued,'
he says; perhaps my senses erred. I can repeat
the experiment again, and be sure. But if it over-
throw those conclusions for which I have given my
life?' he gasps. “My generalisation is firmly estab-
lished in the minds of all—all but myself — no one
will ever chance upon this particular experiment,
and it may not disprove my theory after all; better,
much better, that the floor there keep the secret of
it all both from me and from others !! But even as
he says this to himself he has taken a new tube from
the rack and crawled—ten years older for that last
ten minutes—to his chemical case. The life-long
habit of truth is so strong in him that self-interest
cannot submerge it. He repeats the experiment, and
confirms his fears. The battle between his life and
a few drops of liquid in a test-tube has been merci-
lessly fought, and he has lost! The elasticity of the
man is gone forever, and the only indication the
a


12 THE DARROW ENIGMA
world ever receives of this terrible conflict between
a human soul and its destiny is some half a dozen
lines in Nature, giving the experiment and stating
that it utterly refutes its author's previous conclu-
sions. Half a dozen lines—the epitaph of a dead,
though unburied, life!”
My companion paused there, but I found myself
unable to reply. He had spoken with such intensity,
such dramatic fervour, that I was completely swept
away by his eloquence; so much so, indeed, that it did
not even occur to me to ask myself why he should
have burst out in this peculiar strain. I have given
you the incident in order that you may see the
strange moods into which Maitland occasionally re-
lapsed—at least, at that time. After a quick glance
at me he continued, in a quieter vein: “ All of us
men of science have felt something, however little,
of this, and I believe, as a class, scientists transcend
all other men in their respect for absolute truth."
He cast another one of his searching glances at me,
and said quickly: “ This is precisely why I am going
to confide in you and rely upon your assistance in a
matter, the successful termination of which would
please me as much as the discovery of an absolute
standard of measurement.”


THE DARROW ENIGMA 13
He then made the confession which I have already
given you, and ended by asking me to secure him an
introduction to Miss Darrow. I cheerfully promised
to bring this about at the first opportunity. He
asked me if I thought, on account of his having met
her so frequently, she would be likely to think it was
all a “put up job.” “I do not know," I replied.
“ Miss Darrow is a singularly close observer. On
the whole I think you had better reach her through
her father. Do you play croquet?” He replied
that he was considered something of an expert in
that line. That, then, was surely the best way.
John Darrow was known in the neighbourhood as
a “ crank ” on the subject of croquet. He had spent
many hundreds of dollars on his grounds. His wick-
ets were fastened to hard pine planks, and these
were then carefully buried two feet deep. The sur-
face of the ground, he was wont to descant, must be
of a particular sort of gravel, sifted just so, and
rolled to a nicety. The balls must be of hard
rubber, and have just one-eighth inch clearance in
passing through the wickets, with the exception of
the two wires forming the “cage,” where it was im-
perative that this clearance should be reduced to
one-sixteenth of an inch—but I need not state more


14 THE DARROW ENIGMA
to show how he came to be considered a “ crank"
upon the subject.
It was easy enough to bring Maitland and Darrow
together. “My friend is himself much interested in
the game; he heard of your superb ground; may he be
permitted to examine it closely ? " Darrow was all at-
tention. He would be delighted to show it. Suppose
they make a practical test of it by playing a game.
This they did and Maitland played superbly, but he
was hardly a match for the old gentleman, who
sought to palliate his defeat by saying: “You play
an excellent game, sir; but I am a trifle too much for
you on my own ground. Now, if you can spare the
time, I should like to witness a game between you
and my daughter; I think you will be pretty evenly
matched.”
If he could spare the time! I laughed outright at
the idea. Why, with the prospect of meeting Gwen
Darrow before him, an absolute unit of measure, with
a snail's pace, would have made good its escape from
him. As it is a trick of poor humanity to refuse when
offered the very thing one has been madly scheming
to obtain, I hastened to accept Darrow's invitation
for my friend, and to assure him on my own re-
sponsibility, that time was just then hanging heavily


THE DARROW ENIGMA 15
on Maitland's hands. Well, the game was played, but
Maitland was so unnerved by the girl's presence that
he played execrably, so poorly, indeed, that the al-
ways polite Darrow remarked: “ You must charge
your easy victory, Gwen, to your opponent's gal-
lantry, not to his lack of skill, for I assure you he
gave me a much harder rub.” The young lady cast a
quick glance at Maitland, which said so plainly that
she preferred a fair field and no favour that he
hastened to say: “ Your father puts too high an
estimate upon my play. I did my best to win, but
-but I was a little nervous ; I see, however, that
you would have defeated me though I had been in
my best form.” Gwen gave him one of those short,
searching looks, so peculiarly her own, which seem to
read, with mathematical certainty, one's innermost
thoughts,—and the poor fellow blushed to the tips
of his ears. But he was no boy, this Maitland, and
betrayed no other sign of the tempest that was rag-
ing within him. His utterance remained as usual,
deliberate and incisive, and I thought this per-
plexed the young lady. Before leaving, both Mait-
land and I were invited to become parties to a six-
handed game to be played the following week, after
the grounds had been redressed with gravel.


16 THE DARROW ENIGMA
Maitland looked forward to this second meeting
with Miss Darrow with an eagerness which made
every hour seem interminably long, and he was in
such a flutter of expectancy that I was sure if
“We live ... in thoughts, not breaths;
In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
We should count time by heart-throbs,"
he must have passed through a period as long as that
separating the Siege of Troy from the “late un-
pleasantness.” The afternoon came at last, how-
ever. The party consisted, besides Darrow and his
daughter, Maitland and myself, of two young gen-
tlemen with whom personally I had but a slight ac-
quaintance, although I knew them somewhat by
reputation. The younger one, Clinton Browne, is a
young artist whose landscapes were beginning to at-
tract wide attention in Boston, and the elder, Charles
Herne, a Western gentleman of some literary attain-
ments, but comparatively unknown here in the East.
There is nothing about Mr. Herne that would
challenge more than passing attention. If you had
said of him, “ He is well-fleshed, well-groomed, and
intellectually well-thatched,” you would have voiced
the opinion of most of his acquaintances.
This somewhat elaborately upholstered old world


THE DARROW ENIGMA 17
has a deal of mere filling of one kind and another,
and Mr. Herne is a part of it. To be sure, he leaves
the category of excelsior very far behind and ap-
proaches very nearly to the best grade of curled hair,
but, in spite of all this, he is simply a sort of social
filling.
Mr. Browne, on the other hand, is a very different
personage. Of medium height, closely knit, with the
latent activity and grace of the cat flowing through
every movement and even stagnating in his pose, he
is a man that the first casual gaze instantly returns
to with sharpened focus. You have seen gymnasts
whose normal movements were slowly performed
springs, just as rust is a slow combustion and fire
the same thing in less time. Well, Clinton Browne
strongly suggested that sort of athlete. Add to this
a regularly formed, clearly cut, and all-but-beautiful
face, with a pair of wonderfully piercing, albeit
somewhat shifty, black eyes, and one need not marvel
that men as well as women stared at him. I have
spoken of his gaze as “ somewhat shifty,” yet am
not altogether sure that in that term I accurately de-
scribe it. What first fastened my attention was this
vague, unfocussed, roving, quasi-introspective vision
flashing with panther-like suddenness into a direct-


18 THE DARROW ENIGMA
ness that seemed to burn and pierce one like the
thrust of a hot stiletto. His face was clean-shaven,
save for a mere thumb-mark of black hair directly
under the centre of his lower lip. This Iago-like
tab and the almost fierce brilliancy of his concen-
trated gaze gave to his countenance at times a sinis-
ter, Machiavellian expression that was irresistible
and which, to my thinking, seriously marred an
otherwise fine face. Of course due allowance must
be made for the strong prejudice I have against any
form of beard. However, I'd wager a box of my
best liver-pills against any landscape Browne ever
painted,—I don't care if it's as big as a cyclorama,-
that if he had known how completely Gwen shared
my views,-how she disliked the appearance of be-
whiskered men,—that delicately nurtured little im-
perial would soon have been reduced to a tender
memory,—that is to say, if a physician can diagnose
a case of love from such symptoms as devouring
glances and an attentiveness so marked that it quite
disgusted Maitland, who repeatedly measured his
rival with the apparent cold precision of a mathema-
tician, albeit there was warmth enough underneath.
This singular self-poise is one of Maitland's most
noticeable characteristics and is, I think, rather re-


THE DARROW ENIGMA
19
markable in a man of such strong emotional tenden-
cies and lightning-like rapidity of thought. No
doubt some small portion of it is the result of ac-
quirement, for life can hardly fail to teach us all
something of this sort; still I cannot but think that
the larger part of it is native to him. Born of well-
to-do parents, he had never had the splendid tuition
of early poverty. As soon as he had left college he
had studied law, and had been admitted to the bar.
This he had done more to gratify the wishes of his
father than to further any desires of his own, but
he had soon found the profession so distasteful to
him that he practically abandoned it in favour of
scientific research. True, he still occasionally took a
legal case when it turned upon scientific points which
interested him, but, as he once confessed to me, he
swallowed, at such times, the bitter pill of the law
for the sugar coating of science which enshrouded it.
This legal training could, therefore, it seems to me,
have made no deep or radical change in his character,
which leads me to think that the self-control he ex-
hibited, despite the angry disgust with which I know
Browne's so apparent attentions to Gwen inspired
him, must, for the most part, have been native to
him rather than acquired.


20 THE DARROW ENIGMA
Nothing worthy of record occurred until evening;
at least nothing which at the time impressed me as of
import, though I afterward remembered that Dar-
row's behaviour was somewhat strange. He ap-
peared singularly preoccupied, and on one occasion
started nervously when I coughed behind him. He
explained that a disagreeable dream had deprived
him of his sleep the previous night and left his nerves
somewhat unstrung, and I thought no more of it.
When the light failed we were all invited into the
parlour to listen to a song by Miss Darrow. The
house, as you are perhaps aware, overlooks Dor-
chester Bay. The afternoon had been very hot, but
at dusk a cold east wind had sprung up, which, as it
was still early in the season, was not altogether
agreeable to our host, sitting as he was, back to,
though fully eight feet from, an open window look-
ing to the east. Maitland, with his usual quick ob-
servation, noticed his discomfort and asked if he
should not close the window. The old gentleman did
not seem to hear the question until it was repeated,
when, starting as if from a reverie, he said: “If it
will not be too warm for the rest of you, I would like
to have it partly closed, say to within six inches, for
the wind is cold”; and he seemed to relapse again


THE DARROW ENIGMA 21
into his reverie. Maitland was obliged to use con-
siderable strength to force the window down, as it
stuck in the casing, and when it finally gave way it
closed with a loud shrieking sound ending in the
bang of the counterweights. At the noise Darrow
sprang to his feet, exclaiming: “ Again! The same
sound! I knew I could not mistake it !” but by this
time Gwen was at his side, pressing him gently back
into his seat, as she said to him in an undertone
audible to all of us: “ What is it, father?” The old
gentleman only pressed her closer by way of reply,
while he said to us apologetically: “ You must excuse
me, gentlemen. I have a certain dream which haunts
me,—the dream of someone striking me out of the
darkness. Last night I had the same dream for the
seventh time and awoke to hear that window opened.
There is no mistaking the sound I heard just now; it
is identical with that I heard last night. I sprang
out of bed, took a light, and rushed down here, for I
am not afraid to meet anything I can see, but the
window was closed and locked, as I had left it! What
do you think, Doctor," he said, turning to me, “ are
dreams ever prophetic?” “I have never," I replied,
- anxious to quiet him, “had any personal experience
justifying such a conclusion.” I did not tell him of


22 THE DARROW ENIGMA
certain things which had happened to friends of mine,
and so my reply reassured him.
Maitland, who had been startled by the old gen-
tleman's conduct, now returned to the window and
opened it about six inches. There was no other win-
dow open in the room, and yet so fresh was the air
that we were not uncomfortable. Darrow, with ill-
concealed pride, then asked his daughter to sing, and
she left him and went to the piano. “Shall I not
light the lamp?” I asked. “I think we shall not
need it,” the old gentleman replied, “ music is always
better in the gloaming."
In order that you may understand what follows,
it will be necessary for me to describe to you our sev-
eral positions in the room. The apartment is large,
nearly square, and occupies the southeast corner of
the house. The eastern side of the room has one
window, that which had been left open about six
inches, and on the southern side of the room there
were two windows, both of which were securely fas-
tened and the blinds of which had been closed by the
painters who, that morning, had primed the eastern
and southern sides of the house, preparatory to giv-
ing it a thorough repainting. On the north side of
the room, but much nearer to the western than the
necess
sey-


THE DARROW ENIGMA 23
eastern end, are folding doors. These on this occa-
sion were closed and fastened. On the western side
of the room is the piano, and to the left of it,
near the southwest corner, is a door leading to the
hallway. This door was closed. As I have already
told you, Darrow sat in a high-backed easy-chair
facing the piano and almost in the centre of the room.
The partly opened window on the east side was di-
rectly behind him and fully eight feet away. Herne
and Browne sat upon Darrow's right and a little in
front of him against the folding doors, while Mait-
land and I were upon his left between him and the
hall door. Gwen was at the piano. There are no
closets, draperies, or niches in the room. I think
you will now be able to understand the situation
fully.
Whether the gloom of the scene suggested it to
her, or whether it was merely a coincidence, I do not
know, but Miss Darrow began to sing “In the
Gloaming” in a deep, rich contralto voice which
seemed fraught with a weird, melancholy power.
When I say that her voice was ineffably sympathetic
I would not have you confound this quality either
with the sepulchral or the aspirated tone which
usually is made to do duty for sympathy, especially


24 THE DARROW ENIGMA
in contralto voices. Every note was as distinct, as
brilliantly resonant, as a cello in a master's hand.
So clear, so full the notes rang out that I could
plainly feel the chair vibrate beneath me.
“ In the gloaming, O my darling!
When the lights are dim and low,
And the quiet shadows falling
Softly come and softly go.
When the winds are sobbing faintly
With a gentle unknown woe,
Will you think of me and love me
As you did once, long ago?
“ In the gloaming, O my darling!
Think not bitterly of me,
Though I passed away in silence,
Left you lonely, set you free.
For my heart was crushed with longing.
What had been could never be:
It was best to leave you thus, dear,
Best for you and best- "
But the line was never finished. With a wild cry,
more of fear than of pain, Darrow sprang from his
chair. “Gentlemen, I have been stabbed!” was all
he said, and fell back heavily into his seat. Gwen
was kneeling before him in an instant, even before I
could assist him. His right hand was pressed to his
throat and his eyes seemed starting from their sockets
as he shouted hoarsely: “A light, a light! For
God's sake, don't let him strike me again in the



“ SO CLEAR, SO FULL THE NOTES RANG OUT."





THE DARROW ENIGMA 25
dark !” Maitland was already lighting the gas and
Herne and Browne, so Browne afterward told me,
were preparing to seize the assailant. I remem-
bered, after it all was over, a quick movement Browne
had made toward the darkest corner of the room.
The apartment was now flooded with light, and I
looked for the assassin. He was not to be found!
The room contained only Gwen, Darrow, and his four
invited guests! The doors were closed; the windows
had not been touched. No one could possibly have
entered or left the room, and yet the assassin was not
there. But one solution remained; Darrow was
labouring under a delusion, and ten's voice would
restore him. As she was about to speak I stepped
back to note the effect of her words upon him. “Do
not fear, father,” she said in a low voice as she laid
her face against his cheek, “ there is nothing here to
hurt you. You are ill,—I will get you a glass of
cordial and you will be yourself again in a moment."
She was about to rise when her father seized her fran-
tically by the arm, exclaiming in a hoarse whisper:
“Don't leave me! Can't you see? Don't leave
me!” and for the first time he removed his hand from
his throat, and taking her head between his palms,
gazed wistfully into her face. He tried to speak


CHAPTER II
Silence is the only tender Death can make to Mystery.
HE look of pain and astonishment upon
my face said plainly enough to Gwen:
“ Your father is dead.” I could not
speak. In the presence of her great affliction we all
stood silent, and with bowed heads. I had thought
Darrow's attack the result of an overwrought mental
condition which would speedily readjust itself, and
had so counted upon his daughter's influence as all
but certain to immediately result in a temporary
cure. When, therefore, I found him dead without
any apparent cause, I was, for the time being, too
dazed to think, much less to act, and I think the
other gentlemen were quite as much incapacitated as
I. My first thought, when I recovered so that I
could think, was of Gwen. I felt sure her reason
must give way under the strain, and I thought of
going nearer to her in case she should fall, but re-
frained when I noticed that Maitland had noiselessly


28 THE DARROW ENIGMA
glided within easy reach of her. To move seemed
impossible to me. Such ä sudden transition from
warm, vigorous life to cold, impassive death seems
to chill the dynamic rivers of being into a horrible
winter, static and eternal. Though death puts all
things in the past tense, even we physicians cannot
but be strangely moved when the soul thus hastily
deserts the body without the usual farewell of an.
illness.
Contrary to my expectations Gwen did not faint.
For a long time,-it may not have been more than
twenty minutes, but it seemed, under the peculiar
circumstances, at least an hour, she remained per-
fectly impassive. She neither changed colour nor
exhibited any other sign of emotion. She stood
gazing quietly, tenderly, at her father's body as
if he were asleep and she were watching for some
indication of his awakening. Then a puzzled
expression came over her countenance. There was
no trace of sorrow in it, only the look of perplexity.
I decided to break the gruesome silence, but the
thought of how my own voice would sound in
that awe-inspired stillness frightened me. Gwen
herself was the first to speak. She looked up
with the same impassive countenance, from which


THE DARROW ENIGMA 29
now the perplexed look had Aed, and said simply:
“Gentlemen, what is to be done?” Her voice
was firm and sane,—that it was pitched lower than
usual and had a suggestion of intensity in it,
was perfectly natural. I thought she did not realise
her loss and said: “He has gone past recall.”
“Yes,” she replied, “ I know that, but should we not
send for an officer?” “An officer !” I exclaimed.
“ Is it possible you entertain a doubt that your
father's death resulted from natural causes ?” She
looked at me a moment fixedly, and then said deliber-
ately: “ My father was murdered!” I was so sur-
prised and pained that, for a moment, I could not
reply, and no one else sought to break the silence.
Maitland, as if Gwen's last remark had given rise
to a sudden determination, glided to the body. He
examined the throat, raised the right hand and
looked at the fingers: then he stepped back a little
and wrote something in his note-book. This done, he
tried the folding doors and found them locked on the
inside; then the two windows on the south side of the
room, which he also found fastened. He opened the
hall door slightly and the hinges creaked noisily, of
all of which he made a note. Then taking a rule
from his pocket he went to the east window, and


30 THE DARROW ENIGMA
measured the opening, and then the distance be-
tween this window and the chair in which the old
gentleman had sat, recording his results as before.
His next act astonished me not a little and had the
effect of recalling me to my senses. With his pen-
knife he cut a circle in the carpet around each leg of
the chair on which the body rested. He continued
his examinations with quiet thoroughness, but I
ceased now to follow him closely, since I had begun
to feel the necessity of convincing Gwen of her error,
and was casting about for the best way to do so.
“My dear Miss Darrow," I said at length; “ you
attach too much importance to the last words of
your father, who, it is clear, was not in his right
mind. You must know that he has, for some months,
had periods of temporary aberration, and that all
his delusions have been of a sanguinary nature. Try
to think calmly,” I said, perceiving from her ex-
pression that I had not shaken her conviction in the
least. “Your father said he had been stabbed. You
must see that such a thing is physically impossible.
Had all the doors and windows been open, no object
so large as a man could possibly have entered or left
the room without our observing him ; but the win-
dows were closed and fastened, with the exception of


THE DARROW ENIGMA 31
the east window, which, as you may see for yourself,
is open some six inches or so, in which position it is
secured by the spring fastening. The folding doors
are locked on the inside and the only possible means
of entrance, therefore, would have been by the hall
door. Directly in front of that, between it and your
father, sat Mr. Maitland and myself. You see by
my chair that I was less than two feet from the door.
It is inconceivable that, in that half-light, anyone
could have used that entrance and escaped observa-
tion. Do you not see how untenable your idea is?
Had your father been stabbed he would have bled,
but I am as certain as though I had made a thorough
examination that there is not so much as a scratch
anywhere upon his body.” Gwen heard me through
in silence and then said wearily, in a voice which had
now neither intensity nor elasticity, “I understand
fully the apparent absurdity of my position, yet I
know my father was murdered. The wound which
caused his death has escaped your notice, but- "
“ My dear Miss Darrow," I interrupted, " there is no
wound, you may be sure of that!” For the first
time since Darrow's death Maitland spoke. “If
you will look at the throat a little more closely,
you will see what may be a wound,” he said, and


32 THE DARROW ENIGMA
went on quietly with his examinations. He was
right; there was a minute abrasion visible. The
girl's quick observation had detected what had es-
caped me, convinced as I was that there was nothing
to be found by a scrutiny, however close.
Gwen now transferred her attention to Maitland,
and asked: “Had not one of us better go for an
officer?” Maitland, whose power of concentration is
so remarkable as on some occasions to render him
utterly oblivious of his surroundings, did not notice
the question and Browne replied to it for him. “I
should be only too happy to fetch an officer for you,
if you wish,” he said. Have you ever noticed how
acute the mind is for trifles and slight incongruities
when under the severe tension of such a shock as
we had experienced? Such attacks, threatening to
invade and forever subjugate our happiness, seem
to have the effect of so completely manning the ram-
parts of our intellect that nothing, however trivial,
escapes observation. Gwen's father, her only near
relative, lay cold before her,—his death, from her
standpoint, the most painful of mysteries, -and yet
the incongruity of Browne's “ only too happy" did
not escape her, as was evident by the quick glance
and sudden relaxation of the mouth into the faintest


THE DARROW ENIGMA 33
ne was
semblance of a smile. All this was momentary and,
I doubt not, half unconscious. She replied gravely:
“I would indeed be obliged if you would do so."
Maitland, who had now finished his examination,
noticed that Browne was about to depart. When
the artist would have passed him on his way to the
hall door, he placed his hand upon that gentleman's
shoulder, saying: “Pardon me, sir, but I would
strongly urge that you do not leave the room!”
Browne paused. Both men stood like excited ani-
nals at gaze.


CHAPTER III
Nothing is so full of possibilities as the seemingly impossible.
CAITLAND'S request that Browne should
not leave the room seemed to us all a
veritable thunderbolt. It impressed
me at the time as being a thinly veneered command,
and I remember fearing lest the artist should be in-
judicious enough to disregard it. If he could have
seen his own face for the next few moments, he would
have had a lesson in expression which years of por-
trait work may fail to teach him. At length the
rapidly changing kaleidoscope of his mind seemed to
settle, to group its varied imaginings about a defi-
nite idea,—the idea that he had been all but openly
accused, in the presence of Miss Darrow, of being in-
strumental in her father's death. For a moment, as
he faced Maitland, whom he instinctively felt to be
a rival, he looked so dark and sinister that one could
easily have believed him capable of almost any crime.
Gwen was no less surprised than the rest of us at
34


THE DARROW ENIGMA 35
Maitland's interference, but she did not permit it to
show in her voice as she said quietly: “Mr. Browne
has consented to go for an officer.” As I felt sure
she must have thought Maitland already knew this,
as anyone else must have heard what had passed, I
looked upon her remark as a polite way of saying:
“I am mistress here."
Maitland apparently so regarded it, for he replied
quickly: “I hope you will not think me officious, or
unmindful of your right to dictate in a matter so
peculiarly your own affair. My only desire is to
help you. Mr. Browne's departure would still fur-
ther complicate a case already far too difficult of
solution. My legal training has given me some little
experience in these matters, and I only wish that you
may have the benefit thereof. It is now nearly
three-quarters of an hour since your father's death,
and, I assure you, time at this particular juncture
may be of the utmost importance. Not a moment
should be wasted in needless discussion. If you will
consent to despatch a servant to the police station
I will, in due time, explain to you why I have taken
the liberty of being so insistent on this point.”.
He had hardly ceased speaking before Gwen rang
for a servant. She hurriedly told him what had


36 THE DARROW ENIGMA
transpired and sent him to the nearest police station.
As this was but a few rods away and the messenger
was fleet of foot, an officer was soon upon the scene.
“ We were able,” he said to us generally as he entered
the room, “ to catch Medical Examiner Ferris by
'phone at his home in F— Street, and he will be
here directly. In the meantime I have been sent along
merely to see that the body is not moved before his
examination and that everything in the room remains
exactly as it was at the time of the old gentleman's
death. Did I not understand,” he said to Maitland
in an undertone, “ that there is a suspicion of foul
play?"
“ Yes," replied George, “ that is one explanation
which certainly will have to be considered.”
“I thought I heard the Cap'n say “murder' when
he 'phoned in town for some specials. They're for
detective work on this case, I reckon. Hello! That
sounds like the Doctor's rig.”
A moment later the bell rang and Dr. Ferris en-
tered the room.
“ Ah, Doctor,” he said extending his hand to me,
“ what have we here?”
Before I could answer he had noticed Maitland
and advanced to shake hands with him.


THE DARROW ENIGMA 37
“ Is this indeed so serious as I have been told?” he
asked, after his greeting.
“ It seems to me likely," replied Maitland slowly,
“ to develop into the darkest mystery I have ever
known.”
“Hum!” replied the Examiner. “Has the body
been moved or the disposition of its members
altered?”
“Not since I arrived,” replied Officer Barker.
“And before?” queried Dr. Ferris, turning to
Maitland.
“Everything is absolutely intact. I have made a
few notes and measurements, but I have disturbed
nothing,” replied Maitland.
“Good,” said the Examiner. “May I see those
notes before I go? You were on that Parker case
and you have, you know, something of a reputation
for thoroughness. Perhaps you may have noted
something that would escape me.”
“ The notes, Doctor, are at your service,” George
replied.
Dr. Ferris' examination of the body was very
thorough, yet, since it was made with the rapid pre-
cision which comes from extended practice, it was
soon over. Short as it was, however, it was still an


38 THE DARROW ENIGMA
ordeal under which Gwen suffered keenly, to judge
from her manner.
The Examiner then took Maitland aside, looked
at his notes, and conversed earnestly with him
in an undertone for several minutes. I do not
know what passed between them. When he left,
a few moments later, Officer Barker accompanied
him.
As soon as the door closed behind them Gwen
turned to Maitland.
“ Did he give you his opinion? ” she asked with a
degree of interest which surprised me.
“ He will report death as having resulted from
causes at present unknown,” rejoined Maitland.
Gwen seemed greatly relieved by this answer,
though I confess I was utterly at a loss to see why
she should be.
Observing this change in her manner Maitland ap-
proached her, saying:
“Will you now permit me to explain my seeming
rudeness in interfering with your plan to make Mr.
Browne your messenger, and at the same time allow
me to justify myself in the making of yet another
request ? ”
Gwen bowed assent and he proceeded to state the


THE DARROW ENIGMA 39
following case as coolly and accurately as if it were
a problem in geometry.
“Mr. Darrow,” he began, “has just died under
peculiar circumstances. Three possible views of the
case at once suggest themselves. First: his death
may have been due to natural causes and his last ex-
pressions the result of an hallucination under which
he was labouring. Second: he may have committed
suicide, as the result, perhaps, of a mania which in
that case would also serve to explain his last words
and acts; or,—you will pardon me, Miss Darrow,-
these last appearances may have been intentionally
assumed with a view to deceiving us. The officers
you have summoned will not be •slow in looking for
motives for such a deception, and several possible ones
cannot fail at once to suggest themselves to them.
Third: your father may have been murdered and his
last expressions a more or less accurate description
of the real facts of the case. It seems to me that
these three theories exhaust the possibilities of the
case. Can anyone suggest anything further?”
And he paused for a reply.
“ It is clear,” replied Mr. Herne with portly de-
liberation, “ that all deaths must be either natural
or unnatural; and equally clear that when unnatural


40 THE DARROW ENIGMA
the agent, if human, must be either the victim him-
self, or some person external to him.”
“ Precisely so,” continued Maitland. "Now our
friend, the Doctor, believes that Mr. Darrow's
death resulted from natural causes. The official
authorities will at first, in all probability, agree
with him, but it is impossible to tell what theory they
will ultimately adopt. If sufficient motive for the
act can be found, some are almost certain to adopt
the suicide theory. Miss Darrow has expressed her
conviction that we are dealing with a case of
murder. Mr. Browne and Mr. Herne have ex-
pressed no opinion on the subject, so far as I am
aware."
At this point Gwen, with an eagerness she had not
before displayed,—or possibly it was nervousness, -
exclaimed: “ And your own view of the case?” “I
believe," Maitland replied deliberately, “ that your
father's death resulted from poison injected into the
blood; but this is a matter so easily settled that I
prefer not to theorise upon it. There are several
poisons which might have produced the effects we
have observed. If, however, I am able to prove this
conjecture correct I have still only eliminated one of
the three hypotheses and resolved the matter to


THE DARROW ENIGMA 41
a choice between the suicide and murder theories, yet
that is something gained. It is because I believe it
can be shown death did not result from natural
causes that I have so strongly urged Mr. Browne not
to leave the room."
“Pardon me, sir!” ejaculated Browne, growing
very dark and threatening. “You mean to insinu-
ate- " “ Nothing," continued Maitland, finishing
his sentence for him, and then quietly ignoring the
interruption. “As I have already said, I am some-
what familiar with the usual methods of ferreting
out crime. As a lawyer, and also as a chemical ex-
pert, I have listened to a great deal of evidence in
criminal cases, and in this and other ways, learned
the lines upon which detectives may confidently be
expected to act, when once they have set up an
hypothesis. The means by which they arrive at their
hypotheses occasionally surpass all understanding,
and we have, therefore, no assurance as to the view
they will take of this case. The first thing they
will do will be to make what they will call a 'thor-
ough examination of the premises; but a study of
chemistry gives to the word “thorough' a signifi-
cance of which they have no conception. It is to
shorten this examination as much as possible,—to


42 THE DARROW ENIGMA
prevent it from being more tiresome to you than is
absolutely necessary,” he said to Gwen,“ that I have
taken the liberty of ascertaining and recording most
of the data the officers will require.”
“ Believe me,” Gwen said to him in an undertone
not intended for the rest of us, though we heard it,
“I am duly grateful for your consideration and shall
find a fitting time to thank you.”
With no other reply than a deprecating gesture,
Maitland continued:
“ Now let us look at the matter from the stand-
point of the officers.
“They must first determine in their own minds how
Mr. Darrow met his death. This will constitute the
basis of their first hypothesis. I say “first' be-
cause they are liable to change it at any moment it
seems to them untenable. If they conclude that
death resulted from natural causes, I shall doubtless
be able to induce them to waive that view of the case
until I have been given time to prove it untenable
if I can—and to act for the present upon one of the
other two possible theories. It appears, from our
present knowledge of the case, that, whichever one of
these they choose, the same difficulty will confront
them.”


THE DARROW ENIGMA 43
Gwen looked at him inquiringly and he continued,
answering the question in her eyes:
“ This is what I mean. Your father, whether he
committed suicide or was murdered, in all probability
met his death through that almost imperceptible
wound under his chin. This wound, so far as I have
yet been able to examine it without a glass, was made
with a somewhat blunt instrument, able, apparently,
to little more than puncture the skin and draw a drop
or so of blood. Of course, on such a theory, death
must have resulted from poisoning. The essential
point is: Where is the instrument that inflicted the
wound?”
“ Might it not be buried in the flesh? ” Gwen
asked.
“Possibly, but as I have not been able to find it I
cannot believe it very likely, though closer search
may reveal it,” replied Maitland. “ Your father's
right forefinger," he continued, “ is slightly stained
with blood, but the wound is of a nature which could
not have been caused by a finger nail previously
poisoned. Since we know he pressed his hand to his
throat this blood-stain makes no more strongly to-
ward the truth of the suicide theory than it does
toward that of the murder hypothesis. Suppose


44 THE DARROW ENIGMA
now, for we must look at all sides of the question, the
officers begin to act upon the assumption that murder
has been committed. What will they then do?
They will satisfy themselves that the east window
was opened six and three-quarters inches and securely
fastened in that position; that the two south win-
dows were closed and fastened and that the blinds
thereof were also closed. They will ascertain the
time when death occurred,—we can easily tell them,
---and this will show them that neither of the blinds
on the south side could have been opened without so
increasing the light in the room as to be sure to at-
tract our attention. They will learn also that the
folding doors were locked, as they are now, on this
side and that these two gentlemen [indicating Browne
and Herne] sat against them. They will then turn
to the hall door as the only possible means of en-
trance and I shall tell them that the Doctor and I
sat directly in front of this door and between it and
Mr. Darrow. I have taken the liberty to cut the
carpet to mark the positions of our chairs. In view
of all these facts what must they conclude? Simply
this: no one entered the room, did the deed, and then
left it, at least not without being observed.” “ But
surely,” I ventured to suggest, “ you do not think


THE DARROW ENIGMA 45
they will presume to question the testimony of all of
us that no one was observed.”
“ That is all negative evidence,” he replied, " and
does not conclusively prove that another might not
have observed what we failed to detect. However,
it is all so self-evident that they will not question it.
I know so well their methods of reasoning that I
am already prepared to refute their conclusions at
every point, without, I regret to say, being myself
able to solve the mystery, though I may say in pass-
ing that I purposely am refraining from formulat-
ing any theory whatever until I have ascertained
everything which it is possible to learn in the matter.
In this way I hope to avoid the error into which the
detective is so prone to fall. Once you set up an
hypothesis you unconsciously, and in spite of your-
self, accentuate unduly the importance of all data
making toward that hypothesis, while, on the other
hand, you either utterly neglect, misconstrue, or fail
to fully appreciate, the evidence oppugnant to your
theory. In chemical research I gather the material
for an entire series of experiments before perform-
ing any, so that the first few shall not, either by
satisfying or discouraging me, cause me to leave the
bush half beaten.


46 THE DARROW ENIGMA
“ Let us see how, from the officers' standpoint, the
murder hypothesis now stands. No assassin, it will
be clear to them, could have entered or left this room
unobserved. If, therefore, a man did enter the room
and kill our friend, we, all of us, must be his accom-
plices.” This remark drew some sort of exclamatory
protest from every other person in the room save
Browne.
“Ah, that is probably the true solution,” said the
artist with ill-concealed disgust.
This remark and the tone in which it was uttered
would have been discourteous under any circum-
stances; at this particular time and in the painful
situation in which we all found ourselves it was boor-
ish almost beyond endurance.
There was nothing in Maitland's manner to indi-
cate that he had heard Browne's remark, as he
quietly continued:
“ You see this cold blooded view, the mere state-
ment of which causes you all to shudder,—the more
so because one of our number is the daughter of the
dead man,-is not to be entertained a moment and is
only mentioned to show the logical chain which will
force the officers into the certain conviction that no
assassin did enter or leave this room. What, then,


THE DARROW ENIGMA 47
remains of their theory? Two possibilities. First,
the murderer may have done the deed without enter-
ing. If so, it is clear that he must have made use of
the partly-opened window. This seems so likely that
they will seize upon it with avidity. At first they
will suggest that the assassin reached in at the win-
dow and struck his victim as he sat by it. This, they
will urge, accounts for our not finding the weapon,
and they will be so sure that this is the correct solu-
tion of the problem that I shall probably have to
point out to them its patent absurdity. This illus-
trates the danger of forming an hypothesis from im-
perfect data. Remind them that Mr. Darrow did
not sit by the window, but eight feet three and one-
half inches from it, in almost the exact centre of the
room, and their theory falls to the ground, only to be
hastily replaced, as a drowning man catches at a
straw, by a slightly varied theory. If the victim sat
that distance from the window, they will inform us,
it is clear the murderous implement must have been
thrown or shot at him by the assassin.”
“ Indeed,” said Mr. Herne, “ though I had not
thought of that theory it seems to me so plausible,
now that you mention it, that I think the officers will
show rare acumen if they adopt it. Very properly


48 THE DARROW ENIGMA
may they hold that some projectile might have been
shot through the partly opened window and none of
us have detected the act.”
“ Ah, yes,” rejoined Maitland; “ but when I ask
them where this implement is under this assumption,
and remind them of what I shall already have told
them, viz., that Mr. Darrow sat back to the window
as well as over eight feet from it, and sat in a chair,
the solid back of which extended, like a protecting
shield, fully six inches above the top of his head, they
will find it difficult to show how, unless projectiles
travel in sharp curves or angles, a man in this posi-
tion could thus receive a wound directly beneath his
chin, a wound so slight as not to penetrate the
thyroid cartilage immediately under it.
“ The abandonment of this hypothesis will force
them to relinquish the idea that the murder was com-
mitted from without. What then remains? Only the
second alternative. They must either give up alto-
gether the idea of murder, or have recourse to what
is known as the theory of exclusive opportunity.”
“ Theory of exclusive opportunity,” repeated
Gwen, as a puzzled look overspread her countenance.
“ -I fear I do not quite understand what you
mean."


THE DARROW ENIGMA 49
“Pardon me, Miss Darrow, for not making my
meaning clearer to you,” said Maitland with a defer-
ential inclination of the head. “ The theory of ex-
clusive opportunity, to state it plainly in this case,
means simply this: if Mr. Darrow were murdered,
some one of us five, we being the only ones having an
opportunity to do the deed, must be the assassin.
Whether this view be taken, or that of suicide, it be-
comes of paramount importance to find the weapon.
Do you not now see why I objected to having anyone
leave the room? If, as appears likely from my
search, the weapon is not to be found, and if, as I
feel reasonably certain, either the suicide or the mur-
der theory be substantiated, then, anyone who left
the room before official search was made would be
held to have taken the weapon with him and disposed
of it, because his would have been the exclusive oppor-
tunity of so doing. Someone must have disposed of
it, and no one else had a chance to do so; that would
be the way it would be stated. But, since no one of
us has left the room, a thorough search both of it
and of our persons, must convince the officers that
we, at least, are not responsible for the fact that the
weapon is not forthcoming.”
Maitland paused and looked at Browne as if he
IU-


THE DARROW ENIGMA 51
must find the weapon here before they can substan-
tiate it; for if it be not here someone must have taken
it away and that someone could have only been the
one who used it—the assassin, in short-but here are
the officers. Let each one of us insist upon being
searched. They can send to the station for a woman
to search you,” he said in an undertone to Gwen and
then added:“ I trust you will pardon my suggesting
a course which, in your case, seems so utterly un-
necessary, but, believe me, there are urgent reasons
for it which I can explain later. If we would hope
to solve this mystery, everything depends upon ab-
solute thoroughness at this juncture.”
“I should evince but poor appreciation,” Gwen
replied, “ of the ability you have already shown
should I fail to follow your slightest suggestion.
It is all I can offer you by way of thanks for the
kind interest you have taken.”
The return of Officer Barker, accompanied by three
other men, now changed the tide of conversation.
Maitland advanced and shook hands with one whom
he introduced as Mr. Osborne, and this gentleman in
turn introduced his brother officer, a Mr. Allen, and
M. Godin, a special detective.
Osborne impressed me as a man of only mediocre


52 THE DARROW ENIGMA
ability, thoroughly imbued with the idea that he is
exceptionally clever. He spoke loudly and, I
thought, a bit ostentatiously, yet withal in a manner
so frank and hearty that I could not help liking the
fellow.
M. Godin, on the contrary, seemed retiring al-
most to the point of self-abnegation. He said but
little, apparently preferring to keep in the back-
ground, where he could record his own observations in
his note-book without too frequent interruption.
His manner was polished in the extreme, and so frank
withal that he seemed to me like a man of glass
through whom every thought shone unhindered. I
wondered how one who seemed powerless to conceal
his own emotions should possess a detective's ability
to thread his way through the dark and hidden
duplicity of crime. When he spoke it was in a low,
velvety, and soothing voice, that fell upon the ear
with an irresistible charm. When Osborne would
make some thoughtless remark fraught with bitter-
ness for Gwen, such an expression of pain would flit
across M. Godin's fine face as one occasionally sees
in those highly organised and sympathetic natures,
-usually found among women if a doctor's experi-
ence may be trusted,—which catch the throb of an-


THE DARROW ENIGMA 53
manner
other's hurt, even as adjacent strings strive to sing
each other's songs.
M. Godin seemed to me more priest than detective.
His clean-shaven face, its beautifully chiselled fea-
tures suffused with that peculiar pallor which borrows
the transparency of marble; the large, limpid brown
eyes and the delicate, kindly mouth-all these, com-
bined with a faultless manner and a carriage sug-
gestive of power in reserve, so fascinated me that I
found myself watching him continually. I remem-
ber saying to myself: “ What a rival he would make
in a woman's affections ! ”
At just that time he was looking at Gwen with
tender, solicitous sympathy written in every feature,
and that doubtless suggested my thought.
Mr. Allen was even more ordinary than Mr.
Osborne in manner and appearance. I do not pre-
sume to judge his real merits, for I did not notice
him sufficiently to properly portray him to you, even
if I had the gift of description, which I think you
will admit I have not. He lives in my memory only
as a something tall, spare, coarse of texture, red,
hairy, and redolent of poor tobacco.
How different men are! (Of course women are all
alike!) While Osborne, like a good-natured bumble-


THE DARROW ENIGMA 55
in the conversation of his companions, and so my
curiosity remained ungratified. It was clear that M.
Godin's methods were very different from those of
Osborne and Allen.
I need not weary you by further narrating what
occurred at this official examination. Suffice it to
say that, with one or two minor exceptions, Osborne
and Allen followed the precise course of reasoning
prophesied by Maitland, and, as for M. Godin, he
courteously, but firmly, held his peace. The two
officers did not, however, lean as strongly to the
theory that death resulted from natural causes as
Maitland had anticipated, and, I think, this surprised
him. He had already told them that he expected to
be able to show death to have resulted from poison
hypodermically applied, and, as I overheard a re-
mark made by Osborne to Allen, I readily under-
stood their speedy abandonment of their natural-
death theory. They were engaged in verifying
Maitland's measurement of the east side of the room
when Osborne said softly to his companion: “ He
has figured in several of my cases as a chemical ex-
pert, and when he expresses an opinion on a matter
it's about the same as proved. He's not the kind
that jumps in the dark. He's a lawyer as well as


56 THE DARROW ENIGMA
chemist and knows what's evidence, so I reckon we'd
better see if we can make anything out of the suicide
and murder theories.”
Maitland had asked them to send to the station for
a woman to search Gwen and she had just arrived.
We all requested that a most thorough examination
should now be made to assure the officers that no one
of us possessed the missing weapon. This done, the
officers and M. Godin departed for the night, assur-
ing Gwen that there was nothing further to be done
till morning, and Osborne, doubtless with a view to
consoling her, said: “ It may be a relief to you, miss,
to know that there is scarcely a doubt that your
father took his own life.” This had an effect upon
Gwen very different from that which had been in-
tended. Her face contracted, and it was plain to
see she was beginning to think everyone was deter-
mined to force a falsehood upon her. Herne and
Browne also prepared to take their leave. A glance
from Maitland told me he wished me to remain with
him a moment after the others had departed, and I
accordingly did so.
When we were alone with Gwen he said to her: “I
think I understand your feeling with regard to Mr.
Osborne's remark, as well as your conviction that it


THE DARROW ENIGMA 57
does not represent the truth. I foresaw they would
come to this conclusion, and know very well the pains
they will take to prove their hypothesis.” “Can
nothing be done?” she asked beseechingly. “ It is
that of which I wish to speak,” he replied. “ If you
have sufficient confidence in me to place the case in
my hands, I will do everything in my power to estab-
lish the truth,—on one condition,” and he glanced
at her face, now pale and rigid from her long-con-
tinued effort of self-control. “And that condition
is?” she said quickly. “That you follow my direc-
tions and permit me to order your movements in all
things, so long as the case remains in my hands ; if
at any time I seek to abuse your faith, you are as
free to discharge me as if I were a paid detective.”
Gwen looked searchingly at him; then, extending her
hand to him, she said impulsively: “ You are very
kind; I accept the condition. What shall I do?”
I tried to catch Maitland's eye to tell him what
he should counsel her, but a man with his ability
to observe conditions and grasp situations can very
well do without prompting. “First,” he said, “ you
must return home with the Doctor and spend the rest
of the night with his sister; I shall stay here until
morning; and second, I desire that you use your ut-


58 THE DARROW ENIGMA
most endeavour to keep the incidents of this evening
out of your mind. You cannot, of course, forget
your loss, unless you sleep,”—and he gave me a look
which said: “I depend on you to see to that,”—
“but you must not continually re-enact the scene
in imagination. In the morning the Doctor will come
here to bring me my camera, microscope, and a few
things I shall require ”—and he passed me a list he
had written. “ If you have slept well you can be of
considerable service, and may accompany him—if
not, you must remain quietly at his house.” With
this he turned to me, and said: “ She is making a
condenser of herself, Doctor, and will soon break
through the insulation. Sparks will be dangerous-
you must secure the brush effect.” He spoke quickly,
and used electrical terms, that she might not under-
stand him, but either he failed of his purpose, or the
observation she immediately made was a strange co-
incidence. I believe she understood, for, while young
women educated by their mothers are usually igno-
rant upon all the more masculine subjects, those who
have long been their father's companions are ever
prone to startle one with the most unexpected flashes
of intelligence. “I am in rather a high state of
tension now," she said, turning calmly to Maitland;


CHAPTER IV
Death speaks with the tongue of Memory, and his ashen hand
reaches out of the great unknown to seize and
hold fast our plighted souls.
'HAT Maitland's reason was for spend-
ing the night with the dead body of
Darrow, or how he busied himself until
morning, I do not know. Perhaps he desired to
make sure that everything remained untouched, or,
it may be, that he chose this method of preventing
Gwen from performing a vigil by the body. I
thought this latter view very probable at the time,
as I had been singularly impressed with the remark-
able foresight my friend had displayed in so quickly
and adroitly getting Gwen away from everything
connected with her father's sad and mysterious death.
Arriving at my house my sister took an early op-
portunity to urge upon Gwen a glass of wine, in
which I had placed a generous sedative. The terrible
tension soon began to relax, and in less than half an
hour she was sleeping quietly. I dreaded the moment
60


THE DARROW ENIGMA 61
when she should awake and the memory of all that
had happened should descend like an avalanche upon
her. I told my sister that this would be a critical
moment, cautioning her to stay by Gwen and to give
her, immediately upon her arising, a draught I had
prepared for the purpose of somewhat deadening her
sensibilities. I arose early, and went to Maitland's
laboratory to collect the things he desired. When I
returned Gwen was awake, and to my intense grati-
fication in even a better condition than I had dared
to hope.
It was quite late when we reached her house, and
Maitland had evidently been at work several hours.
He looked sharply at Gwen when she entered, and
seemed much pleased at her condition. “You have
obeyed my instructions, I see, and slept,” he said,
as he gave her his hand. “Yes,” she replied, “I
was very tired, and the doctor's cordial quite over-
came me;" and she cast an inquiring glance at the
network of white string which Maitland had
stretched across the carpet, dividing it into squares
like an immense checker-board. In reply to her
questioning look, he said: “French detectives are
the most thorough in the world, and I am about to
make use of their method of instituting an exhaustive


62 THE DARROW ENIGMA
sea
le
search. Each one of the squares formed by these
intersecting strings is numbered, and represents one
square foot of carpet, the numbers running from one
to two hundred and eighty-eight. Every inch of
every one of these squares I shall examine under a
microscope, and anything found which can be of
any possible interest will be carefully preserved, and
its exact location accurately marked upon this chart
I have prepared, which, as you will see, has the same
number of squares as the room, the area of each
square being reduced from one square foot to one
square inch. You will note that I have already
marked the location of all doors, windows, and fur-
niture. The weapon, if there be one, may be very
minute, but if it be on the floor we may be assured
the microscope will find it. The walls of the room,
especially any shelving projections, and the furni-
ture, I shall examine with equal thoroughness,
though I have now some additional reasons for be-
lieving the weapon is not here."
“ Have you discovered anything new ? " Gwen ex-
claimed, unable to control the excitement caused by
this last remark. “You must pardon me,” Maitland
rejoined, “ if I ask you and the Doctor a question
before replying.” She nodded assent, and he con-


THE DARROW ENIGMA 63
tinued: “I wish to know if you agree with me that
we shall be more likely to arrive at a solution of
the problem before us if we keep our own counsel
than if we take the officers of the law, or, for that
matter, anyone else, into our confidence. You un-
doubtedly noticed how carefully M. Godin kept his
own counsel. Official methods, and the hasty gen-
eralisations which form a part thereof—to say noth-
ing of the petty rivalries and the passion for noto-
riety—can do much to hinder our own work, and, I
believe, nothing to help it. What say you?” “ That
we keep our work to ourselves,” Gwen quickly re-
joined, and I signified that I was of the same opinion.
“ Then,” Maitland continued, “I may say this in
answer to your question. I have ascertained some-
thing which may bear upon the case in hand. You
will remember that part of the gravel for redressing
the croquet ground was dumped under the east win-
dow there. The painters, I learn, finished painting
that side of the house yesterday forenoon before the
gravel was removed and placed upon the ground,
so that any footprints they may have made in it
while about their work were obliterated. As you see,
there was loose gravel left under the window to the
depth of about two inches. I carefully examined


64 THE DARROW ENIGMA
this gravel this morning—there were no foot-
prints.”
&
essure
I glanced at Gwen; her face had a set expression,
and she was deathly pale. “ There were, however,"
he continued, “ places where the gravel had been
tamped down as if by the pressure of a rectangular
board. I examined these minutely and, by careful
measurement and close scrutiny of some peculiar
markings suggestive of the grain of wood, satisfied
myself that the depressions in the gravel were made
by two, and not, as I had at first thought, by one
small piece of wood. I found further that these two
boards had always borne certain relative relations
to each other, and that when one had been turned
around the other had undergone a similar rotation.
This last is, in my mind, a most important point,
for, when coupled with the fact that between any
two impressions of the same board the distance was
sensibly constant, and was that of a short stride,
there could be no reasonable doubt but these boards
had been worn upon some person's feet. They could
not have been thrown down merely to be stepped
upon, for, in that case, they would not have borne
fixed relations to each other-probably would not
have been turned end for end at all—and certainly,


THE DARROW ENIGMA 65
n
both would not always have happened to get turned
at the same time. I procured a board of the com-
bined area of the two supposed to have made the
impressions in the gravel, and weighted it down
until, as nearly as I could measure, it impacted the
soil to the same extent the others had. The weight
was one hundred and thirty-five pounds, which is
about right for a man five feet five inches tall. The
position of the depressions in the gravel indicated
a stride just about right for a man of that height.
“ There was one other most important discovery
which I made after I had divided the impressions into
two classes—according as they were produced by
the right or left board—which was that when the
right foot was thrown forward the stride was from
three to four inches longer than when the left foot
led. Directly under the window there was a deep
impression in the sand. I took a plaster cast of it,
and here it is,” he said, producing an excellent fac-
simile of a closed hand. “ There can be little doubt,"
he continued, “ from the position occupied by the
depression, of which this is a reverse copy, that it
was either accidentally made by someone who, stoop-
ing before the east window to avoid obstructing its
light, suddenly lost his balance and regained his equi-
a reverse


66 THE DARROW ENIGMA
librium by thus thrusting out his hand, or—and this
deliberately placed in the gravel in order to steady
its possessor while he performed some peculiar oper-
ation."
At this point I ventured to ask why he regarded
the latter view as so much more tenable than the
former. “ There are several reasons,” he replied,
“which render the view I prefer to take all but cer-
tain. First, the impression was made by the left
hand. Second, it is the impression of a closed hand,
with the upper joints of the fingers undermost. Did
you ever know one to save himself from falling by
thrusting out a closed hand? Certainly not. There
is a certain amount of fear, however slight, invari-
ably associated with losing one's balance. This sen-
timent, so far as the hand is concerned, is expressed
by opening it and spreading the fingers. This he
would instinctively have done, if falling. Then there
is the position of the impression relative to the win-
dow and some slight testimony upon the sill and
glass, for the thorough investigation of which I
have been obliged to await my microscope. I have
worked diligently, but that is all I have been able to
accomplish."


THE DARROW ENIGMA 67
“ All!” exclaimed Gwen, regarding him with ill-
concealed admiration. “ It seems to me a very great
deal. The thoroughness, the minuteness of it all,
overwhelms me; but, tell me, have your discoveries
led you to any conclusion?” “No,” he replied,
“ nothing definite yet; I must not allow myself to
become wedded to any theory, so long as there is
anything further to be learned. If I were to hazard
a few idle guesses, I should say your father was
murdered in some mysterious way-by a person
about five feet five inches tall, weighing, say, one
hundred and thirty-five pounds, and having a lame
leg, or, perhaps, one limb shorter than the other,
at all events having some deformity or ailment caus-
ing a variation in the length of the strides. I should
guess also that this person's feet had some marked
peculiarity, since such pains had been taken to con-
ceal the footprints. Then the cast of the hand here
encourages speculation. Fingers long, slim, and del-
icate, save at the nails, where, with the exception of
the little finger, are to be found unmistakable signs
of the habit of biting the nails,-see, here are the
hang-nails,—but, strange to say, the nail of the
little finger has been spared, and suffered to grow
to an unusual length. I ask myself why this par-


68 THE DARROW ENIGMA
20
S
n-
ticular nail has been so favoured, and can only an-
swer, “because it has some peculiar use.' It is clear
this is not the hand of a manual labourer; the joints
are too small, the fingers too delicate, the texture of
the skin, which is clearly visible, much too fine-in
short, wouldn't it pass anywhere for a woman's
hand? Say a woman who bit her nails. If it were
really such there would be a pair of feminine feet
also to be concealed, and boards would do it very
nicely—but this is all guesswork, and must not be
allowed to affect any subsequent conclusions. If
you will excuse me a few minutes I will use the micro-
scope a little on the sill of the east window before
we are interrupted by our friends the officers, who
will be sure to be here soon.”
While Maitland was thus engaged I did all in my
power to distract Gwen's attention, as much as pos-
sible, from her father's body. Whenever she re-
garded it, the same intense and set expression over-
spread her countenance as that which at first had
alarmed me. I was glad when Maitland returned
from the window and began mixing some of the
chemicals I had brought him, for Gwen invariably
followed all his movements, as if her very existence
depended upon her letting nothing escape her.


THE DARROW ENIGMA 69
Maitland, who had asked me for a prescription
blank, now dipped it in the chemicals he had mixed
and, this accomplished, put the paper in his micro-
scope box to dry.
“I have something here,” he said, “ which I de-
sire to photograph quite as much as this room and
some of its larger objects,” and he pinned a tiny,
crumpled mass against the wall, and made an ex-
posure of it in that condition. “Do you know what
this is? ” he said, as he carefully smoothed it out
for another picture. “I haven't the slightest idea,"
I said. “It is plain enough under the microscope,”
he continued, placing it upon the slide, and adjust-
ing the focus. “Would you like to examine it, Miss
Darrow?” Gwen had scarcely put her eye to the
instrument before she exclaimed: “Why, it's a
piece of thin outside bark from a twig of alder.”
Maitland's face was a study. “Would you mind
telling me,” he said deliberately, “ how you found
that out so quickly?” She hesitated a moment, and
then said methodically, pointing toward the water,
“I know the alder well—our boat is moored near
a clump of them.” “ You are a keen observer,” he
replied, as he took the prepared paper from his box
and spread the film of bark upon it to take a blue


70 THE DARROW ENIGMA
print of it. “ There is one other object upon the sill
which, unfortunately, I cannot take away with me,”
he continued, “but shall have to content myself with
photographing. I refer to a sinuous line made in
the paint, while green, and looking as if a short
piece of rope, or, more properly, rubber tubing, since
there is no rope-like texture visible, had been dropped
upon it, and hastily removed—but see, here are Os-
borne and Allen looking for all the world as if they
were prepared to demonstrate a fourth dimension of
space. Now we shall see the suicide theory proved-
to their own satisfaction, at least. But, whatever
they say, don't forget we are to keep our own work
to ourselves.”
The two officers were alone. M. Godin had ap-
parently decided to work by himself. This did not
in the least surprise me, since I could easily see that
he had nothing to gain by working with these two
officers.
“We've solved the matter," was the first thing
Osborne said after passing the time of day. “In-
deed? ” replied Maitland in a tone which was de-
cidedly ambiguous; “ you make it suicide, I sup-
pose?” “That's just what we make it," returned
the other. “We hadn't much doubt of it last night,


THE DARROW ENIGMA 71
but there were some things, such as the motive, for
example, not quite clear to us; but it is all as plain
as daylight now.”
“ And what says M. Godin? ” asked Maitland.
Mr. Osborne burst into a loud guffaw.
“Oho, but that's good! What says M. Godin?
I say, Allen, Maitland wants to know what
• Frenchy' says," and the pair laughed boisterously.
“ It's plain enough you don't know M. Godin,” he
continued, addressing Maitland." He's tighter 'n
any champagne bottle you ever saw. The corkscrew
ain't invented that 'll draw a word out of M. Godin.
You saw him making notes here last night. Well,
the chances are that if this were a murder case, which
it isn't, you'd see no more of M. Godin till he
bobbed up some day, perhaps on the other side of
the earth, with a pair of twisters on the culprit.
He's a wiz,' is M. Godin. What does he think?
He knows what he thinks, and he's the only individual
on the planet that enjoys that distinction. I say,
Allen, do you pump ^ Frenchy' for the gentleman's
enlightenment,” and again the pair laughed long
and heartily.
“ Well, then," said Maitland,“ since we can't have
M. Godin's views we shall have to content ourselves


72 THE DARROW ENIGMA
with those of your more confiding selves. Let's hear
all about the suicide theory."
“I think,” said Osborne in an undertone, “ you
had better ask Miss Darrow to withdraw for a few
moments, as there are some details likely to pain her.”
This suggestion was intended only for Maitland,
but the officer, used to talking in the open air, spoke
so loudly that we all overheard him. “I thank you
for your consideration,” Gwen said to him, “ but I
would much prefer to remain. There can be nothing
connected with this matter which I cannot bear to
hear, or should not know. Pray proceed.”
Osborne, anxious to narrate his triumph, needed
no further urging. “ We felt sure,” he began,
" that it was a case of suicide, but were perplexed to
know why Mr. Darrow should wish to make it appear
a murder. Of course, we thought he might wish to
spare his daughter the shame such an act would visit
upon her, but when this was exchanged for the hor-
rible notoriety of murder, the motive didn't seem
quite sufficient, so we looked for a stronger one
and found it.” “Ah! you are getting interesting,"
Maitland observed.
Osborne cast a furtive glance at Gwen, and then
continued: “ We learned on inquiry that certain re-


THE DARROW ENIGMA 73
cent investments of Mr. Darrow's had turned out
badly. In addition to this he had been dealing some-
what extensively in certain electric and sugar stocks,
and when the recent financial crash came, he found
himself unable to cover his margins, and was so swept
clean of everything. Nor is this all; he had lost a
considerable sum of money in yet another way—just
how my informant would not disclose—and all of
these losses combined made his speedy failure inevi-
table. Under such conditions many another man
has committed suicide, unable to face financial ruin.
But this man had a daughter to consider, and, as I
have already said, he would wish to spare her the
disgrace which the taking of his own life would visit
upon her, and, more than all, would desire that she
should not be left penniless. The creditors would
make away with his estate, and his daughter be left a
beggar. We could see but one way of his preventing
this, and that was to insure his life in his daughter's
favour. We instituted inquiries at the insurance
offices, and found that less than a month ago he had
taken out policies in various companies aggregating
nearly fifty thousand dollars, whereas, up to that
time, he had been carrying only two thousand dol-
lars insurance. Why this sudden and tremendous


74 THE DARROW ENIGMA
increase? Clearly to provide for his daughter after
his act should have deprived her of his own watchful
care. And now we can plainly see why he wished his
suicide to pass for murder. He had been insured but
a month, and immediate ruin stared him in the face.
His death must be consummated at once, and yet, by
our law, a man who takes his life before the payment
of his second annual insurance premium relieves the
company issuing his policy of all liability thereunder,
and robs his beneficiary of the fund intended for
her. Here, then, is a sufficient motive, and nothing
more is required to make the whole case perfectly
clear. Of course, it would be a little more complete
if we could find the weapon, but even without it,
there can be no doubt, in the light of our work,
that John Darrow took his own life with the in-
tentions, and for the purposes, I have already set
forth.”
“Upon my soul, gentlemen,” exclaimed Maitland,
“ you have reasoned that out well! Did you care-
fully read the copies of the various policies when
interrogating the companies insuring Mr. Darrow?”
“ Hardly,” Osborne replied. “We learned from the
officials all we needed to know, and didn't waste any
time in gratifying idle curiosity.” A long-drawn


THE DARROW ENIGMA 75
“ hm-m” was the only reply Maitland vouchsafed
to this. “We regret," said Osborne, addressing
Gwen, “ that our duty, which has compelled us to
establish the truth in this matter, has been the means
of depriving you of the insurance money which your
father intended for you.” Gwen bowed, and a slight
enigmatical smile played for a moment about her
lips, but she made no other reply, and, as neither
Maitland nor I encouraged conversation, the two
officers wished us a good-morning, and left the house
without further remark.
“ I wish to ask you a few questions," Maitland
said to Gwen as soon as the door had closed behind
Osborne and his companion, " and I beg you will re-
member that in doing so, however personal my in-
quiries may seem, they have but one object in view-
the solution of this mystery.” “I have already had
good proof of your singleness of purpose,” she re-
plied. “Only too gladly will I give you any infor-
mation in my possession. Until this assassin is
found, and my father's good name freed from the
obloquy which has been cast upon it, my existence
will be but a blank,—yes, worse, it will be an un-
ceasing torment; for I know my father's spirit—if
the dead have power to return to this earth-can


76 THE DARROW ENIGMA
never rest with this weight of shame upon it.” As
she spoke these words the depth of grief she had
hitherto so well concealed became visible for a mo-
ment, and her whole frame shook as the expression
of her emotion reacted upon her. The next instant
she regained her old composure, and said calmly:
“ You see I have every reason to shed whatever light
I can upon this dark subject.”
“ Please, then, to answer my questions method-
ically, and do not permit yourself to reason why I
have asked them. What was your father's age?”
“ Sixty-two.”
“ Did he drink?"
6 No.”
“ Did he play cards ? "
“ Yes.”
“ Poker?"
“ Yes, and several other games.”
“ Was he as fond of them as of croquet?”
“No; nothing pleased him as croquet did—noth-
ing, unless it were chess.”
“ Hum! Do you play chess ? "
“ Yes; I played a good deal with father.”
“What kind of a game did he play?"
“I do not understand you. He played a good


THE DARROW ENIGMA 77
game; my father did not enjoy doing anything that
he could not do well.”
“I mean to ask if his positions were steadily sus-
tained—or if, on the other hand, his manœuvres were
swift, and what you might call brilliant.”
“I think you would call them brilliant.”
“ Hum! How old are you?”
“ Twenty-two.”
“ Tell me your relations with your father.”
“We were most constant companions. My mother
-she and my father—they were not altogether
companionable-in short, they were ill-mated, and,
being wise enough to find it out, and having no desire
to longer embitter each other's lives, they agreed to
separate when I was only four. They parted with-
out the slightest ill-feeling, and I remained with
father. He was very fond of me, and would permit
no one else to teach me. At seven I was drawing and
painting under his guidance. At eight the violin
was put into my hands and my studies in voice began.
In the meantime father was most careful not to
neglect my physical training; he taught me the use
of Indian clubs, and how to walk easily. At eight
I could walk four miles an hour without fatigue.
The neighbours used to urge that I be put to school,


78 THE DARROW ENIGMA
but my father would reply-many a time I have
heard him say it— a child's brain is like a flower
that blossoms in perceptions and goes to seed in ab-
stractions. Correct concepts are the raw material
of reason. Every desk in your school is an intel-
lectual loom which is expected to weave a sound
fabric out of rotten raw material. While your
children are wasting their fibre in memorising the
antique errors of classical thought my child is being
fitted to perceive new truths for herself? It is need-
less to say his friends considered these views alto-
gether too radical. But for all that I was never
sent to school. My father's library was always at
my disposal, and I was taught how to use it. We
were constantly together, and grew so into each
other's lives that ”—but her voice failed her, and
her eyes moistened. Maitland, though he apparently
did not notice her emotion, so busy was he in making
notes, quickly put a question which diverted her at-
tention.
“ Your father seemed last night to have a pre-
sentiment of some impending calamity. Was this a
common experience?”
“ Of late, yes. He has told me some six or seven
times of dreaming the same dreams—a dream in


THE DARROW ENIGMA 79
which some assassin struck him out of the dark-
ness.”
“Did you at any of these times notice anything
which might now lead you to believe this fancied rep-
etition was the result of any mental malady?”
“ No."
“Was his description of the dreams always the
same?”
“No; never were they twice alike, save in the
one particular of the unseen assassin."
“ Hum! Did the impression of these dreams re-
main long with him?”
“He never recovered from it, and each dream only
accentuated his assurance that the experience was
prophetic. When once I tried to dissuade him from
this view, he said to me: “Gwen, it is useless; I am
making no mistake. When I am gone you will know
why I am now so sure—I cannot tell you now, it
would only '—here he stopped short, and, turning
abruptly to me, said with a fierceness entirely alien
to his disposition: ‘Hatred is foreign to my nature,
but I hate that man with a perfect hell of loathing!
Have I been a kind father to you, Gwen? If so,
promise me '—and he seized me by the wrist-prom-
ise me if I'm murdered—I may as well say when I'm


80 THE DARROW ENIGMA
murdered—you will look upon the man who brings
my assassin to justice ——the thought that he may
escape is damning—as your dearest friend on earth!
You will deny him nothing. You will learn later
that I have taken care to reward him. My child, you
will owe this man a debt you can never repay, for he
will have enabled your father's soul to find repose.
I dreamed last night that I came back from the dead,
and heard my avenger ask you to be his wife. You
refused, and at your ingratitude my restless soul
returned to torment everlasting. Swear to me,
Gwen, that you'll deny him nothing, nothing, noth-
ing!' I promised him, and he seemed much reas-
sured. “I am satisfied,' he said, “ and now can die
in peace, for you are an anomaly, Gwen,—a woman
who fully knows the nature of a covenant,' and he
put his arm about me, and drew me to him. His
fierceness had subsided as quickly as it had appeared,
and he was now all tenderness.”
Maitland, who appeared somewhat agitated by her
recital, said to her: “ After the exaction of such
a promise you have, of course, no doubt that your
father was the victim of a mental malady—at least,
at such times as those of which you speak?”
Gwen replied deliberately: “ Indeed, I have grave


THE DARROW ENIGMA 81
doubts. My father was possessed by a strange con-
viction, but I never saw anything which impressed me
as indicating an unsound mind. I am, of course,
scarcely fitted to judge in such matters.”
Maitland's face darkened as he asked: “You
would not have me infer that you would consider
your promise in any sense binding?”
“And why not?” she ejaculated in astonishment.
“Because,” he continued, “ the request is so un-
natural as to be in itself sufficient evidence that it
was not made by a man in his right mind.”
“I cannot agree with you as to my father's con-
dition,” Gwen replied firmly;“ yet you may be right;
I only know that I, at least, was in my right mind,
and that I promised. If it cost me my life to keep
that pledge, I shall not hesitate a moment. Have
you forgotten that my father's last words were,“ re-
member your promise '?” She glanced up at Mait-
land as she said this, and started a little as she saw
the expression of pain upon his face. “I seem to
you foolishly deluded,” she said apologetically;
“ and you are displeased to see that my purpose is
not shaken. Think of all my father was to me, and
then ask yourself if I could betray his faith. The
contemplation of the subject is painful at best; its


82 THE DARROW ENIGMA
realisation may, from the standpoint of a sensitive
woman, be fraught with unspeakable horror,—I dare
not think of it! May we not change the subject? "
For a long time Maitland did not speak, and I
forbore to break the silence. At last he said: “ Let
us hope, if the supposed assassin be taken, the dis-
covery may be made by someone worthy the name of
man—someone who will not permit you to sacrifice
either yourself or your money.” Gwen glanced at
him quickly, for his voice was strangely heavy and
inelastic, and an unmistakable gloom had settled
upon him. I thought she was a little startled, and
I was considering if I had not better call her aside
and explain that he was subject to these moods, when
he continued, apparently unaware of the impression
he had made: “Do you realise how strong a case of
suicide the authorities have made out? Like all of
their work it has weak places. We must search these
in order to overthrow their conclusion. The insur-
ance policies they were too busy' to read we must
peruse. Then, judging from your story, there seems
little doubt that your father has left some explana-
tion of affairs hitherto not confided to you—some
document which he has reserved for your perusal
after his death. No time should be lost in settling


THE DARROW ENIGMA 83
this question. The papers may be here, or in the
hands of his attorney. Let us search here first.”
“ His private papers,” Gwen said, rising to lead
the way, “ are in his desk in the study.”
“ One moment, please,” Maitland interrupted, call-
ing her back, “ I have something I have been trying
to ask you for the last hour, but have repeatedly
put off. I believe your father's death to have re-
sulted from poisoning. You know the result of the
post-mortem inquest. It is necessary to make an
analysis of the poison, if there be any, and an abso-
lutely thorough microscopic examination of the
wound. 1-I regret to pain you—but to do this
properly it will be necessary to cut away the wounded
portion. Have we your permission to do so?”
For a moment Gwen did not answer. She fell upon
her knees before her father's body, and kissed the
cold face passionately. For the first time since the
tragedy she found relief in tears. When she arose
a great change had come over her. She was very
pale and seized a chair for support as she replied to
Maitland's question between the convulsive sobs which
she seemed powerless to check: “I–I have bidden
him good-bye. We shall but obey his command in
sparing no pains to reach the assassin. You—you


84 THE DARROW ENIGMA
have my permission to do anything-everything
that may be necessary to that end. 1-I know you
will be as gentle ” But she could not finish her
sentence. The futility of gentleness—the realisation
that her father was forever past all need of tender-
ness, fell like a shroud about her soul. The awake-
ning I had dreaded had come. Her hand fell from
the chair, she staggered, and would have fallen to
the floor had not Maitland caught her in his arms.





CHAPTER I
Father of all surveyors, Time drags his chain of rust through
every life, and only Love—unaging God of the Ages-
immeasurable, keeps his untarnished youth.
CAITLAND carried the unconscious girl
into the study, and for some time we
busied ourselves in bringing her to her-
self. When this task was accomplished we did not
feel like immediately putting any further tax upon
her strength. Maitland insisted that she should rest
while he and I ransacked the desk, and, ever mindful
of her promise to obey his instructions, she yielded
without remonstrance. Our search revealed the in-
surance policies, and a sealed envelope bearing the
inscription: “ To Miss Gwen Darrow, to be opened
after the death of John Darrow," and three news-
papers with articles marked in blue pencil. I read the
first aloud. It ran as follows:
I have reason to believe an attempt will sooner or
later be made upon my life, and that the utmost cun-
ning will be employed to lead the authorities astray.


88 THE DARROW ENIGMA
The search for the assassin will be long, expensive,
and discouraging—just such a task as is never suc-
cessfully completed without some strong personal in-
centive. This I propose to supply in advance. My
death will place in my daughter's hands a fund of
fifty thousand dollars, to be held in trust by her, and
delivered, in the event of my being murdered, to
such person or persons as shall secure evidence lead-
ing to the conviction of the murderer.
(Signed) John HINTON DARROW.
I glanced at the other two papers—the marked
article was the same in each. “ I wonder what your
friend Osborne would say to that,” I said to Mait-
land.
“ How old are the papers?” he replied.
“ March 15th,-only a little over a month," I
answered.
“Let me see them, please,” he said. “Hum! All
of the same date, and each in the paid part of the
paper! It is clear Mr. Darrow inserted these sin-
gular notices himself. I will tell you what Osborne
will say when he learns of these articles. He will
say they strengthen his theory; that no sane man
would publish such a thing, except as a weak attempt
to deceive the insurance companies. As for the


90 THE DARROW ENIGMA
son
ons
eral guests, a gentleman opposite him inadvertently
spoke the fatal words, when, without a word of warn-
ing, he sprang at him across the table, using the carv-
ing-knife with all the fury of the most violent
maniac; and yet, under all other conditions, he was
perfectly rational."
“If, on the other hand,” said Maitland, continu-
ing his remarks as if unaware of our interruption,
“ Mr. Darrow's suspicions had any foundation in
fact, it is almost certain they must have been directed
against some specific person or persons. If so, why
did he not name them?—but, stay—how do we know
that he did not? Let us proceed with our examina-
tion of the papers,” and he began perusing the in-
surance policies. Neither Gwen nor I spoke till he
had finished and thrown them down, when we both
turned expectantly toward him.
“ All in Osborne's favour so far,” he said. “ Prin-
cipal to be held in trust by Miss Darrow under the
terms of a will which we have yet to find; the income,
until the discharge of the trust, to go to Miss Dar-
row. Now for this," and he passed Gwen the sealed
envelope addressed to her.
She broke the seal with much agitation. “ Shall
I read it aloud? ” she asked.


THE DARROW ENIGMA 91
We signified our desire to hear it, and she read as
follows:
MY DEAR GWEN:
My forebodings have seemed to you strange and
uncalled for, but when this comes to your hand you
will know whether or not they were groundless. Of
one episode in my career which shook the structure
of my being to its foundation stone, you have been
carefully kept in ignorance. It is necessary that
you should know it when I am gone, and I have ac-
cordingly committed it to this paper, which will then
fall into your hands. My early life, until two years
after I married your mother, was spent in India, the
adult portion thereof being devoted to the service of
the East India Company. I had charge of a depart-
ment in their depot at Bombay. You have seen
Naples. Add to the beauties of that city the inter-
esting and motley population of Cairo and you can
form some idea of the attractions of Bombay. I
was very happy there until the occurrence of the
event I am about to narrate.
One morning, my duties calling me to one of the
wharves, my attention was attracted by a young girl
dancing upon the flags by the water's edge. The
ordinary bayadere is so common an object in India
as to attract but little notice from anyone of refined
tastes, but this girl, judging from the chaste beauty
of her movements, was of a very different type. As


92 THE DARROW ENIGMA
my curiosity drew me nearer to her she turned her
face toward me, and in that instant I knew my hour
had come.
Though many years her senior she was still my
first love,—the one great passion of my life.
I do not attempt to describe her ineffable loveli-
ness, for, like the beauty of a flower, it was incapable
of analysis. Nothing that I could write would give
you any adequate idea of this girl's seraphic face,
for she was like unto no one you have ever seen in
this cold Western world. I watched in a wild, nervous
transport, I know not how long-time and space
had no part in this new ecstasy of mine! I could
think of nothing, do nothing-only feel,-feel the
hot blood deluge my brain only to fall back in scald-
ing torrents upon my heart with a pain that was ex-
quisite pleasure.
Suddenly she changed her step and executed a
quick backward movement toward the water, stop-
ping just as her heels touched the curb at the edge
of the wharf; then forward, and again a quick return
to the backward movement, but this time she mistook
the distance, her heels struck the curb forcibly, and
she was precipitated backward into the water. For
a moment I stood as one petrified, unable to reason,
much less to act ; then the excited voices of the crowd
recalled me. They had thrown a rope into the water
and were waiting for her to come to the surface and
grasp it. The wall from which she had fallen must


THE DARROW ENIGMA 93
have been at least fifteen feet above the water, which
was littered with broken spars, pieces of timber, and
other odd bits of wood. It seemed as if she would
never come to the surface, and when at length she
did, she did not attempt to seize the rope thrown to
her, but sank without a movement. The truth
flashed upon me in an instant. She had struck her
head against some of the floating drift and was un-
conscious! Something must be done at once. I
seized the rope and sprang in after her, taking good
care to avoid obstructions, and although, as you
know, I never learned to swim, I succeeded in reach-
ing her, and we were drawn up together. I bore her
in my arms into one of the storerooms close by, and,
laying her upon a bale of cotton, used such restor-
atives as could be quickly procured.
I was kneeling by her, my arm under her neck, in
the act of raising her head, when she opened her eyes,
and fastened them, full of wonderment, upon my face.
A moment more, her memory returning to her, she
made a little movement, as if to free herself. I was
too excited then to heed it, and continued to support
her head. She did not repeat the movement, but
half closed her eyes and leaned back resignedly
against my arm. If, I thought, these few minutes
could be expanded into an eternity, it would be my
idea of heaven. She was recovering rapidly now and
soon raised herself into a sitting posture, saying, in
very good English, “ I think I can stand now, Sahib.”


THE DARROW ENIGMA 95
interpret my boorish conduct. I could think of but
one thing to do. If I did not know her name, neither
did she know mine, and so if she desired a further ac-
quaintance, she, like myself, must rely upon a chance
meeting. If she had detected my admiration for her
she must know that I too would strive to meet her
again. Where would she be most likely to expect me
to look for her? Clearly at the same place we had
met before, and at the same time of day. She might
naturally think my duties called me there daily at
that hour. I determined to be there at the same
time the next day.
I arrived to find her there before me, anxiously
peering at the passers-by. She was certainly look-
ing for me,—there was ecstasy in the thought!
It is not necessary, my dear child, that I should
describe the details of our love-making, for my
present purpose is not merely to interest you, but
rather to acquaint you with certain occurrences
which I now deem it wise you should know. Time
only intensified our love for each other, and for sev-
eral months all went well. One serious obstacle to
our union presented itself ,—that of caste. Her
people, Lona said, would never permit her to marry
outside her own station in life, besides which there
was another ground upon which we might be equally
sure of their opposition. They had already chosen
for her and she was betrothed to Rama Ragobah.
It is of this man that I have chiefly to speak. By


96 THE DARROW ENIGMA
birth he was of the same Vaisya caste as Lona.
Early in life his lot had fallen among fakirs and
he had acquired all their secrets. This did not
satisfy his ambitions, for he wished to be numbered
among the rishis or adepts, and subjected himself to
the most horrible asceticism to qualify himself for
adeptship. His indifference to physical pain was
truly marvellous. He had rolled his naked body to
the Ganges over hundreds of miles of burning sands!
He had held his hands clinched until the nails had
worn through the palm and out at the back of the
hand. He had at one time maintained for weeks a
slow fire upon the top of his head, keeping the skin
burned to the skull.
When he came wooing Lona, his rigid asceticism
had much relaxed, but he would still seek to amuse
her by driving knives into his body until she would
sicken at the blood, a condition of affairs which, she
said, afforded him great enjoyment. Ragobah was
a man of gigantic build and immense physical
strength. His features were heavy and forbidding.
You are familiar with pictures of Nana Sahib. If
I had not known this fiend to have died while beset in
a swamp, I should have mistaken Ragobah for him.
It was to such a being that Lona was betrothed in
spite of the loathing her parents knew she felt for
him. She told me all this one night at our accus-
tomed tryst on Malabar Hill. We had chosen to
meet here on account of the beauty of the place and


THE DARROW ENIGMA 97
-
the seclusion it offered. There, on bright moonlit
nights, with the sea and the city below me, the
“ Tower of Silence” in the Parsees' burial plot
ablaze with reflected glory, the majestic banyan over
me rustling gently in the soft sea breeze, while Lona
nestled close beside me,—the exquisite perfume of the
luxuriant garden less welcome than the delicious
fragrance of her breath,—hours fraught with years
of bliss would pass as if but pulse-beats. In the
world of love the heart is the only true timepiece.
On one or two occasions Lona had thought she had
been followed when coming to meet me, and she be-
gan to conceive a strange dislike for a little cave-
like recess in the rocks just back of the tree by which
we sat. I tried on one occasion to reassure her by
telling her it was so shallow that, with the moonlight
streaming into it, I could see clear to the back wall,
and arose to enter it to convince her there was no one
there, but she clung to me in terror, saying: “ Don't
go! Don't leave me! I was foolish to mention it.
I cannot account for my fear,—and yet, do you
know,” she continued in a low, frightened tone,
" there is a shaft at the back of the cave that has,
they say, no bottom, but goes down, down, down,
-hundreds of feet to the sea?” It is useless, as you
know only too well, to strive to reason down a pre-
sentiment, and so, instead, I sought to make use of
her fear in the accomplishment of my dearest wish.
“ Why need we,” I urged, “ come here; why longer


98 THE DARROW ENIGMA
continue these clandestine meetings? Let us be
brave, darling, in our loves. Your people have
chosen another husband for you,—my people another
wife for me; but we are both quite able to choose for
ourselves. We have done so, and it is our most
sacred duty to adhere to and consummate that choice.
Let us, I beseech you, do so without further delay.
Dearest, meet me here to-morrow night prepared for
a journey. We will take the late train for Matheron
Station, where I have friends who can be trusted. We
will be married immediately upon our arrival, and
can communicate by post with our respective families,
remaining away from them until they are glad to
welcome us with open arms."
She raised some few objections to my plan and ex-
pressed some misgivings, but she loved me and I was
able to reason away the one and kiss away the other,
and with our souls upon our lips we parted for the
night. The last thing I had said to her, I remember
it as if it all happened yesterday,—was: “ Think of
it, dear heart, there will be no more such partings
between us after to-night!” and she had replied by
silently nestling closer to me and twining her arms
about my neck. And so we parted on that never-
to-be-forgotten night more than a score of years
ago.
The twenty-four hours intervening between this
parting and our next meeting may be passed over in
silence, as nothing occurred during that time at all


THE DARROW ENIGMA 99
essential to the purpose this narrative subserves.
The longed-for time came at last and, with a depth
of happiness I had never known before a peace
passing all understanding--I set out for Malabar
Hill. The night was perfect and the moonlight so
bright I could distinctly see the air-roots of our
trysting tree when more than a quarter of a mile
away. I thought at the time how this tree, with its
crown of luxuriant foliage and its writhing roots,
might well pass for some gigantic Medusa-head with
its streaming serpent-hair. As I neared the tree
Lona stepped from behind it and awaited my ap-
proach. She was even more impatient than I, I
thought, and my heart beat more wildly than ever.
“ Sweet saint, have I kept you waiting?” I asked, as
I came within speaking distance of her. She stood
motionless against the tree and apparently did not
hear me. I waited till I was within ten feet of her
and repeated the question, but, although she fixed her
unfathomable eyes full upon mine, she made no
reply, and gave no evidence of having heard me. I
stood as if petrified. A nameless dread was settling
upon me, paralysing my faculties. She had always
before sprung forward at sight of me and thrown
herself with a bewitching little pirouette into my
arms, now she stood coldly aloof, silent and motion-
less, on this, our wedding night! I waited for some
word of explanation, but none came. The suspense
became unbearable—I could endure it no longer!


100 THE DARROW ENIGMA
“ For God's sake, what has happened?” I cried, rush-
ing forward to seize her in my arms. She raised her
right hand above her head and, as I had almost
reached her, threw something full in my face! In-
stinctively I struck at it with my walking-stick, and
it fell in the grass at my feet,-it was a young In-
dian cobra—Naja tripudians—a serpent of the dead-
liest sort. I did not pause to reason how this sweet
angel had been so quickly changed into a venomous
fiend, although the thought that somehow she had
been led to think me false to her, and that this act
was the swift vengeance of her hot Eastern blood,
flashed momentarily through my mind,—all that
could be explained as soon as I had her nestling in
my arms. I reached forward to embrace her, but she
struck me in the face and fled! For an instant my
heart stood still. It seemed to me it would never
start, but it soon began to throb again like a thing
of lead, and the blood it pumped was cold, for the
winter had closed in upon it. The elasticity of my
life, that ineffable resiliency of the soul which makes
us more than beasts of burden, was gone forever.
An automaton, informed only with the material life,
remained,—the spirit followed that fleeting figure
down the hill. More than twenty years have passed
and still the unrewarded chase continues !
But it is to facts I have to call your attention,
rather than to their effects. A flutter of white mus-
lin in the moonlit distance was all that was visible of



" SHE RAISED HER RIGHT HAND
ABOVE HER HEAD."





THE DARROW ENIGMA 101
the retreating girl when I started mechanically, and
without any particular purpose in view, in pursuit of
her. My path lay by the banyan tree under which
we had so often sat, but every air-root seemed
changed to a writhing serpent. As I threaded my way
among them, a man stepped from behind the trunk
and disputed my passage. His gigantic form was
silhouetted against the mass of rock forming the en-
trance to the little cave. The bright moonlight did
what it could to illumine that sinister face. It was
Rama Ragobah! For fully a minute we stood
silently face to face, each expecting the assault of
the other. It was Ragobah who spoke first. “ She
is mine, body and soul; and the English cur may find
a mate in his own kennel!” He bent toward me and
hissed these words in my very face. His hot breath
seemed to poison me. It made me beside myself. I
knew he meant to take advantage of his physical
superiority and attack me, by the narrow watch he
kept upon the heavy walking-stick I still carried in
my right hand. He had expected I would attempt
to strike with this, but my constant practice at box-
ing had made my fists the more natural weapon. I
was so enraged I did not notice he was too close to
use my stick to advantage. I simply acted without
any thought whatever. His attitude was such, as
he hissed his venom into my face, as to enable me to
give him a powerful “upper cut” under the jaw.
This, as I was so much lighter than he, was the most


THE DARROW ENIGMA 103
the head. This is just what he was expecting, and
it would have cost me my life. He would have had
only to throw up his left arm to catch the blow, while
with his right hand he plunged the knife into my
heart. My experience had taught me how much
easier it is to protect one's self from a cutting blow
than from a thrust, and I determined to adopt this
latter means of assault. Ragobah advanced upon me
slowly, much as a cat steals upon an unsuspecting
bird. I raised my stick as if to strike him, and he
instinctively threw up his left arm, and advanced
upon me. My opportunity had come; I lowered the
point of my cane to the level of his face, and made
a vigorous lunge forward, throwing my whole weight
upon the thrust. As nearly as I could tell, the point
of my stick caught him in the socket of the left eye,
just as he sprang forward, and hurled him back-
ward, blinded and stupefied. Before he had recovered
sufficiently to protect himself, I dealt him a blow
upon the head that brought him quickly to the earth.
Without stopping to ascertain whether or not I had
killed him, I fled precipitately to my lodgings, hastily
packed my belongings, and set out for Matheron
Station by the same train I had so fondly believed
would convey Lona and me to our nuptial altar.
Words cannot describe the suffering I endured upon
that journey. For the first time since my terrible
desertion I had an opportunity to think, and I did
think, if the pulse of an overwhelming pain, perpetu-


104 THE DARROW ENIGMA
ally recurring like the beat of a loaded wheel, can
be called thought. Although there is no insanity in
our family nearer than a great-uncle, I marvel that
I retained my wits under this terrible blow. I seri-
ously contemplated suicide, and probably should have
taken my life had not my mental condition gradu-
ally undergone a change. I was no longer conscious
of suffering, nor of a desire to end my life. I was
simply indifferent. It was all one to me whether I
lived or died. The power of loving or caring for
anything or anybody had entirely left me, and when
I would reflect how utterly indifferent I was even to
my own father and mother, I would regard myself as
an unnatural monster. I tried to conceal my lack of
affection by a greater attention to their wishes, and
it was in this way that I yielded, without remon-
strance, to those same views regarding my marriage,
to which, but a little while before, I had made such
strenuous objections as to quite enrage my father.
I was an only child, and (as often happens in such
cases) my father never could be brought to realise
that I had many years since attained my majority.
It had been his wish, ever since my boyhood, that I
should marry your mother, and he made use, when I
was nearly forty, of the selfsame insistent and coer-
cive methods with which he had sought to subdue my
will when I was but twenty, and at last he attained
his end. I had learned from friends in Bombay that
not only had Rama Ragobah recovered from the


THE DARROW ENIGMA 105
blows I had given him, but that, shortly after my
encounter with him, he had married Lona, she whom
I had loved, God only knows how madly! It was
all one to me now whether I was married or single,
living or dead. So it was all arranged. I myself
told the lady that, so far as I then understood my
feelings, I had no affection for any person on earth;
but it seemed only to pique her, and I think she de-
termined then and there to make herself an exception
to this universal rule. This is how I came to marry
your mother. There was not the slightest commu-
nity of thought, sentiment, or interest between us."
The things I liked did not interest her; what she
liked bored me; yet she was pre-eminently a sensible
woman, and when she learned the real state of affairs
was the first to suggest a separation, which was
effected. We parted with the kindliest feelings,
and, as you know, remained fast friends up to her
death.
It was nearly a year after the affair on Malabar
Hill before I had the heart to return with your mother
to Bombay. I had thought all emotion forever dead
within me, but, ah! how little do we understand our-
selves. Twelve months had not passed, and already I
was conscious of a vague achema feeling that some-
thing, I scarcely knew what, had gone wrong, so
terribly wrong! I told myself that I was now mar-
ried, and had a duty both to my wife and society, and
I tried hard to ignore the ache, on the one hand,


106 THE DARROW ENIGMA
and not to permit myself to define and analyse it on
the other. But a man does not have to understand
anatomy in order to break his heart, and so my
longing defined itself even by itself. The old fire,
built on a virgin hearth, was far from out. Society
had heaped a mouthful of conventional ashes upon
it, but they had served only to preserve it. From
the fiat of the human heart there is no court of
appeal.
One night, to my utter amazement, I received
a letter from Lona which you will find filed away
among my other valuable documents.
It was addressed in her own quaint little hand,
and I trembled violently as I opened the envelope.
It was but a brief note, and ran as follows:
“I am dying, and have much to explain before I
go. Be generous, and do not think too harshly of
me. Suspend your judgment until I have spoken.
You must come by stealth, or you will not be per-
mitted to see me. Follow my directions carefully
and you will have no trouble in reaching me. Go at
once to the cave on Malabar Hill, whistle thrice, and
one will appear who will conduct you safely to me.
Follow him, and whatever happens, make no noise.
Do not delay-I can last but little longer.
« Lona.”
I did not even pause to re-read the letter, or to


108 THE DARROW ENIGMA
lives is twisted in a certain way, and each has its own
fixed mode of unravelling,—this will be mine.
When I had recovered from the first momentary
shock I turned and looked behind me. There, close
upon me, with his huge form blocking the narrow
entrance, stood Rama Ragobah, my rival, his face
hideous with malignant triumph! I was trapped,
and that, too, by a man whom my hatred, could it
have worked its will, would have plunged into the
uttermost hell of torment. I felt sure my hour had
come, but my assassin should not have the satisfac-
tion of thinking I feared him. I did not permit my-
self to betray the slightest concern as to my position
-indeed, after the shock of the first surprise, I did
not care so very much what fate awaited me. Why
should I? Had I not seriously thought of taking
my own life? Was it not clear now that Lona, whose
own handwriting had decoyed me, had most basely
betrayed me into her husband's hands? If I had
wished to end my own life before, surely now, death,
at the hands of another, was no very terrible thing.
Could I have dragged that other down with me, I
would have rejoiced at the prospect!
Ragobah broke the silence. “You have left your
stick this time, I see,” he said, as he unsheathed
the long knife I had once before escaped, and osten-
tatiously felt its edge as if he were about to shave
with it.
“ You were in haste, Sahib, when you left me


THE DARROW ENIGMA 109
last time, or I should not now have the pleasure of
this interview. Be assured I shall do my work more
thoroughly this time. Behind you there is a hole
partly filled with water. If you drop a stone into
this well, it is several seconds before you hear the
splash, and there is a saying hereabouts that it is
bottomless. I am curious to know if this be true,
and I am going to send you to see. Of course, if
the story is well founded, I shall not expect you to
come back. That would be unreasonable, Sahib."
All this was said with a refined sarcasm which
maddened me, and, as he concluded, he began to edge
stealthily toward me. So strong is the instinct of
self-preservation within us that I doubt not a would-
be suicide, caught in the act of hanging himself,
would struggle madly for his life were someone else
to forcibly adjust the noose about his neck. At all
events, I found myself unwilling, at the last moment,
to have someone else launch me into eternity and, as
I wished to gain time to think what I should do to
escape, I said to him:
“Why do you bear me such malice? Can you
not see that any injury I may have done you was
purely in self-defence? You sought the quarrel,
and I took the only means at hand to protect myself.
I did not, as you know, seek to kill you, a thing I
could easily have done, but was content merely to
make good my escape. "
“ Bah!” he said, interrupting me savagely.


110 THE DARROW ENIGMA
“ That has nothing to do with it. Had you only
pounded my head you might live, but you have
pounded my heart! It is for that I hate you, and
for that you die!”
“ What have I done?” I asked.
“What have you done?” he roared, furious with
rage. “I will tell you. You have by magic pos-
name is ever upon her lips! My entreaties, my sup-
plications are answered by nothing else. Even in
her sleep she starts up and calls for you. You have
cast a spell upon her. Day by day she droops and
withers like a lotus-flower whose root is severed; yet
ever and always, is your cursed name upon her lips,
goading me to madness, until at last I have registered
a sacred oath to kill you, and remove the accursed
spell you have thrown upon her.”
Had he advanced upon me at this moment he
would have found me as helpless as a child, so over-
come was I by the sudden joy which seized upon me,
and seemed to turn my melancholy inside out. Those
words of hatred had been as a torch illumining the
gloom of my despair, for they had shown me that
my existence was not altogether barren and unpro-
ductive. The life which has known the heaven of
true love cannot be called a failure. There is no wall
so high, no distance so great, no separation so com-
plete as to defy the ineffable commerce of two loving
hearts! Lona, then, was still mine, despite all ob-


112 THE DARROW ENIGMA
and in spite of himself, Ragobah dodged, closed his
eyes, and raised his right hand, knife and all, to
shield his face. I sprang upon him at the same in-
stant I threw my hat, and so was able to reach him
before he opened his eyes. I had well calculated his
movements, and had made no mistake. As I reached
him his head was bent downward and forward to let
the hat pass over him. His position could not have
been better for my purpose. I “swung on him," as
we used to say at the gymnasium, catching him
under his protruded jaw, not far from the region of
the carotid artery. The blow was well placed, and
desperation lent me phenomenal strength. It raised
him bodily off his feet, and hurled him backward out
of the cave, where he lay motionless. He was now in
my power. I seized his knife and bent over him.
Words cannot express the hatred, the loathing I felt
for him then and always. Between me and the light
of my happiness he had ever stood, an impenetrable
black mass. Twice had he sought my life, yet now,
when he was in my power, I could not plunge his
weapon into his heart. Would it not be just, I
thought, to drag him into the cave, and hurl him
down the abyss he had intended for me? Yes; he
certainly merited it; yet I could not do that either.
I wished the snake a thousand times dead, yet I could
not stamp it into the earth.
He was beginning to slightly move now, and
something must be done. It was useless to run, for


THE DARROW ENIGMA 113
the way was long, and he could easily overtake me.
You may wonder why I did not take to the thicket,
but if you had ever had any experience with Indian
jungles you would know that, without the use of
fire and axe, they are practically impenetrable. Pro-
fessor Haeckel, botanising near that same spot,
spent an hour in an endeavour to force his way into
one of these jungles, but only succeeded in advancing
a few steps into the thicket, when, stung by mos-
quitoes, bitten by ants, his clothing torn from his
bleeding arms and legs, wounded by the thousands
of sharp thorns of the calamus, hibiscus, euphorbias,
lantanas, and myriad other jungle plants, he was
obliged, utterly discomfited, to desist. If this were
the result of his efforts, made in broad daylight,
and with deliberation, what might I expect rushing
into the thicket at night, as a refuge from a pursuer
far my superior in physical strength and fleetness
of foot, and who, moreover, had known the jungle
from his boyhood? Once overtaken by my enemy,
the long knife in my hands would be of no avail
against a stick in his. I saw all this clearly, and
realised that he must be prevented from following
me,
There was no time to be lost, for he was rapidly
recovering possession of his powers. I seized a large
rock and hurled it with all the force I could command
upon his left foot and ankle. Notwithstanding his
immense strength his hands and feet were scarcely


114 THE DARROW ENIGMA
larger than a woman's, and the small bones cracked
like pipe-stems. Though I had not the will to kill
him, my own safety demanded that I should maim
him as the only other means of making good my
escape. As the rock crushed his foot the pain seemed
to bring him immediately into full possession of
his faculties, and he roared like an enraged bull. I
turned and looked back as I beat a hasty retreat
down the hill. He had seized one of the air-roots of
the banyan tree, and raised himself upon his right
leg. The expression of his face as the moonlight
fell upon it was something never to be forgotten.
It riveted me to the spot with the fascination of hor-
ror. He shook his fist at me fiercely, as he shrieked
from the back of his throat:
“ You infidel cur! You may as well try to brush
away the Himalyas with a silk handkerchief as to
escape the wrath of Rama Ragobah. Go! Bury
yourself in seclusion at the farthermost corner of
the earth, and on one night Ragobah and the dark-
ness shall be with you!”
These were the last words this fiend incarnate
ever spoke to me, but I know they are prophetic,
and that he will keep his oath.
The next day I learned that Lona was dead.
She had died with my name upon her lips, and her
secret—the explanation of her strange conduct on
that night—died with her. I shall never know it.
Bitterly did I repent my inability to reach her. The


THE DARROW ENIGMA 115
thought that she had waited in vain for me, that with
her last breath she had called upon me, and I had
answered not, was unendurable torture, and I fled
India and came to America in the futile endeavour
to forget it all. Out of my black past there shone but
one bright star-her love! All these long years have
I oriented my soul by that sweet, unforgettable radi-
ance, prizing it above a galaxy of lesser joys.
There is little more to be said. I shall meet
death as I have stated—I am sure of it—and no man
will see the blow given. Remember, as I loved that
Indian maiden with a passion which death has not
chilled, so I loathe my rival with a hatred infinite and
all-consuming; for, somehow, I know that demon
crushed out the life of my fragile lotus-flower. He
will work his will upon me, but if his cunning enable
him to escape the gallows, my soul, if there be a con-
scious hereafter, will never rest in peace. Remember
this, my dear child, and your promise, that God may
bless you even as I bless you.
It was some time after Gwen had finished this in-
teresting document before any of us spoke. The
narrative, and the peculiar circumstances under
which it had been read, deeply impressed us. At
length Maitland said in a subdued voice, as if he
feared to break some spell:


116 THE DARROW ENIGMA
“ The Indian girl's letter; let us find that, and
also the will."
Gwen went to the drawer in which her father kept
his private papers, and soon produced them both.
Maitland glanced hastily at the letter, and said:
“You have already heard its contents"; then turn-
ing to Gwen, he said: “I will keep it with your per-
mission. Now for the will.” It was handed to him,
and his face fell as he read it. In a moment he
turned to us, and said: “ The interest on the insur-
ance money is to go to Miss Darrow, the entire prin-
cipal to be held in trust and paid to the person bring-
ing the assassin to justice, unless said person shall
wed Miss Darrow, in which case half of the fund
shall go to the husband, and the other half to the
wife in her own right. The balance of the estate,
which, by the way, is considerable, despite the reports
given to Osborne, is to go to Miss Darrow. This is
all the will contains having any bearing upon the
case in hand. Let us proceed with the rest of the
papers.” We made a long and diligent search, but
nothing of importance came to light. When we had
finished Maitland said:
“Our friend Osborne would say the document we
have just perused made strongly for his theory, and


THE DARROW ENIGMA 117
was simply another fabrication to blind the eyes of
the insurance company. That's what comes of wed-
ding one's self to a theory founded on imperfect
data."
“And what do you think? ” Gwen inquired.
“ That Rama Ragobah has small hands and feet,”
he replied. “ That his left foot has met with an in-
jury, and is probably deformed; that most likely he
is lame in the left leg; that he had the motive for
which we have been looking; that he may or may not
have the habit of biting his nails; that he is crafty,
and that if he were to do murder it is almost certain
his methods would be novel and surprising, as well as
extremely difficult to fathom-in short, that suspi-
cion points unmistakably to Rama Ragobah. That
is easily said, but to bring the deed home to him is
quite another thing. I shall analyse the poison of
the wound and microscopically examine the nature
of the abrasion this afternoon. To-night I take the
midnight train for New York. To-morrow I shall
sail for Bombay, via London and the Continent. I
will keep you informed of my address. While I am
away I would ask that you close the house here,
leaving everything just as it now is, dismiss the ser-
vants, and take up your abode with the Doctor and


118 THE DARROW ENIGMA
his sister.” He rose to go as he said this, and then
continued, as he turned to me: “ I shall depend upon
you to look after Miss Darrow's immediate interests
in my absence.” I knew this meant that I was to
guard her health, not permitting her to be much by
herself, and I readily acquiesced.
The look of amazement which had at first over-
spread Gwen's face at the mention of this precipi-
tate departure gave place to one of modest concern,
as she said softly to Maitland: “ Is it necessary that
you should encounter the dangers of such a journey,
to say nothing of the time and inconvenience it will
cost?” He looked down at her quickly, and then
said reassuringly: “Do you know one is, by actual
statistics, safer in an English railway carriage than
when walking the crowded streets of London? I am
daily subjecting myself to laboratory dangers which,
I believe, are graver than any I am likely to meet
between here and Bombay, or, for that matter, even
at Bombay in the presence of our recent acquaint-
ance Ragobah.”
“ I deeply appreciate,” she replied, “ the generous
sacrifice you would make in my interests—but Bom-
bay is such a long way—and "
“ If suspicion directed me to the North Pole,” he


120 THE DARROW ENIGMA
Oh, man with your microscope! How is it that
you find the smallest speck of dust, yet miss the
mountain ? Does the time seem too short? It would
not if you realised that events, not clocks, were the
real measure thereof.


THE EPISODE OF RAMA RAGOBAH


CHAPTER I
Life is but a poor accountant when it leaves the Future to
balance its entries long years after the parties to the
transactions are but a handful of insolvent dust.
When, in such wise, the chiefest item of
one side of the sheet fails to ex-
plain itself to the other, the
tragic is attained.
N the day following Maitland's departure
for New York, Mr. Darrow was buried.
The Osborne theory seemed to be univer-
sally accepted, and many women who had never seen
Mr. Darrow during his life attended his funeral,
curious to see what sort of a person this suicide might
be. Gwen bore the ordeal with a fortitude which
spoke volumes for her strength of character, and I
took good care, when it was all over, that she should
not be left alone. In compliance with Maitland's re-
quest, whose will, since her promise to him, was law to
her, she prepared to close the house and take up her
abode with us.
It was on the night of the funeral, just after the
123


124 THE DARROW ENIGMA
lamps were lighted, that an event occurred which
made a deep impression upon Gwen, though neither
she nor I fully appreciated its significance till weeks
afterward.
Gwen, who was to close the house on the morrow,
was going from room to room collecting such little
things as she wished to take with her. The servants
had been dismissed and she was entirely alone in the
house. She had gathered the things she had col-
lected in a little heap upon the sitting-room table,
preparatory to doing them up. She could think of
but one thing more which she must take-a cabinet
photograph of her father. This was upon the top of
the piano in the room where he had met his death.
She knew its exact location and could have put her
hand right upon it had it been perfectly dark, which
it was not. She arose, therefore, and, without tak-
ing a light with her, went into the parlour. A faint
afterglow illumined the windows and suffused the
room with an uncertain, dim, ghostly light which lent
to all its objects that vague flatness from which the
imagination carves what shapes it lists. As Gwen
reached for the picture, a sudden conviction possessed
her that her father stood just behind her in the
exact spot where he had met his death,—that if she


THE DARROW ENIGMA 125
turned she would see him again with his hand clutch-
ing his throat and his eyes starting from their
sockets with that never-to-be-forgotten look of fren-
zied helplessness.
It would be difficult to find a woman upon whom
superstition has so slight a hold as it has upon Gwen
Darrow, yet, for all that, it required an effort for her
to turn and gaze toward the centre of the room. A
dim, ill-defined stain of light fell momentarily upon
the chair in which the dead man had sat, and then
flickered unsteadily across the room and, as it seemed
to her, out through its western side, the while a
faint, rustling sound caught her ear. She was
plainly conscious, too, of a something swishing by
her, as if a strong draught had just fallen upon her.
She was not naturally superstitious, as I have said
before, yet there was something in the gloom, the
deserted house, and this fatal room with its untold
story of death which, added to her weird percep-
tions and that indescribable conviction of an unseen
presence, caused even Gwen to press her hand con-
vulsively upon her throbbing heart. For the first
time in her life the awful possibilities of darkness
were fully borne in upon her and she knew just how
her father had felt.


126 THE DARROW ENIGMA
!
ner
In a moment, however, she had recovered from her
first shock and had begun to reason. Might not the
sound she had heard, and the movement she had felt,
both be explained by an open window? She knew
she had closed and locked all the windows of the room
when she had finished airing it after the funeral, and
she was not aware that anyone had been there since,
yet she said to herself that perhaps one of the serv-
ants had come in and opened a window without her
knowledge. She turned and looked. The lower sash
of the eastern window—the one through which she
felt sure death had approached her father—was
raised to its utmost.
“How fortunate," she murmured, “ that I dis-
covered this before leaving.”
She was all but fully reassured now, as she stepped
to the window to close it. Remembering how the
sash stuck in the casing she raised both hands to
forcibly lower it. As she did so a strong arm caught
the sash from the outer side, and a stalwart mascu-
line form arose directly in front of her. His great
height brought his head almost to a level with her
own, despite the fact that he was standing upon the
ground outside. He was so near that she could feel
his breath upon her face. His eyes, like two great
Vol.


THE DARROW ENIGMA 127
coals of fire, blazed into hers with a sinister and
threatening light. His countenance seemed to ut-
terly surpass any personal malignancy and to ex-
hibit itself as a type of all the hatreds that ever poi-
soned human hearts.
Only a moment before Gwen had felt a creepy, sick-
ening sensation stealing over her as the result of an
ill-defined and apparently causeless dread. Now an
actual, imminent, and fearful peril confronted her.
Under such circumstances most women would have
fainted, and, indeed, if Gwen had herself been asked
how she would have acted under such a supreme test,
she would have prophesied the same maidenly course
as her own, yet, in the real exigency-how little do
we know of ourselves, save what actual experience
has taught us this is precisely what she did not do.
When the horrible apparition first rose in her very
face, as it were, a momentary weakness caught her
and she clung to the sash for support. Then the
wonderful fire of the malignant eyes, green, serpen-
tine, opalescent, with the wave-like flux of a glow-
worm's light seen under a glass, riveted her atten-
tion. She had ceased to tremble. Our fear of death
varies with our desire for life. Dulled by a great
grief, she did not so very much care what became of


128 THE DARROW ENIGMA
her. The future's burden was heavy, and if it were
necessary she now put it down, there would still be a
sense of relief. As this thought passed like a shadow
over her consciousness she felt herself irresistibly at-
tracted to the awful face before her. Her assail-
ant's gaze seemed to have wound itself about her own
till she could not disentangle it. She was dimly con-
scious that she was falling under a spell and sum-
moned all her remaining strength to break it. Quick
as the uncoiling of a released spring, and without the
slightest movement of warning, she threw her entire
weight upon the sash in a last endeavour to close the
window, but the man's upraised arm held both her
weight and it, as if its muscles had been rods of
steel. Gwen saw a long knife in his free hand,—saw
the light shimmer along its blade, saw him raise it
aloft to plunge it into her bosom, yet made no move-
ment to withdraw beyond his reach and uttered no
cry for help. It seemed to her that all this was hap-
pening to another and that she herself was only
a fascinated spectator. She was wondering whether or
not the victim would try to defend herself when the
knife began its descent. It seemed ages in its down-
ward passage,—so long, indeed, that it gave her time
to think of most of the main experiences of her life.


THE DARROW ENIGMA 129
At last it paused irresolutely within an inch of her
bosom. She wondered that the victim made no at-
tempt to escape, uttered no cry for help. Suddenly
she felt something whirling and buzzing in her brain,
while a wild fluttering filled both her ears; then the
swirling, fluttering torment rose in a swift and awful
crescendo which seemed to involve all creation in its
vortex; then a pang like a lightning-thrust and a
crash like the thunder that goes with it, and she saw
a tall man striding rapidly from the window. She
was still sure it was no personal concern of hers, yet
an idle curiosity noted his great height, his dark,
mulatto-like skin, and a slight halt in his walk as he
passed through a narrow beam of light and off into
the engulfing darkness.
It was many minutes before Gwen regained any
considerable command of her faculties, and she after-
wards told me that she was even then more than half
inclined to consider the whole thing as a weird dream
of an overwrought mind. At length, however, she
realised that she had had an actual experience, and
that it was of sufficient importance to make it known
at once. She accordingly hastened to lay the whole
matter before me, and I, in my turn, notified the
police, who, at once instituted as thorough a search


130 THE DARROW ENIGMA
as Gwen's description made possible. She had told
me that her assailant was dark-skinned, yet with
straight hair, and a cast of features that gave no
hint of any Ethiopian taint. This, and his halting
gait and great stature, were all the police had in the
way of description, and I may as well add that the
information was insufficient, for they never found
any trace of Gwen's assailant.
I had had some hopes of this clue, but they were
doomed to disappointment. It seemed evident to us
that if anything were ever done in bringing Mr.
Darrow's assassin to justice, Maitland would have to
do it, unless, indeed, M. Godin solved the problem.
Osborne, Allen, and their associates were simply out
of the question.
We debated for some time as to whether or not we
should write Maitland about Gwen's strange experi-
ence, and finally decided that the knowledge would be
a constant source of worriment without being of the
least assistance to him while he was so far away. We,
therefore, decided to keep our own counsel, for the
present at least.
Maitland had written us a few lines from New
York telling us the result of his analysis, and ended
by saying:


THE DARROW ENIGMA 131
There is no doubt that Mr. Darrow died of poi-
son injected into the blood through the slight wound
in the throat. This wound was not deep, and seemed
to have been torn rather than cut in the flesh. What
sort of weapon or projectile produced that wound is
a question of the utmost importance, shrouded in the
deepest of mysteries. Once this point is settled, how-
ever, its very uniqueness will be greatly in our favour.
I have an idea our friend Ragobah might be able to
throw some light upon this subject, therefore I am
starting on my way to visit him this afternoon, and
shall write you en route whenever occasion offers.
My kindest regards to Miss Darrow.
Yours sincerely,
GEORGE MAITLAND.
P. S. I shall have leisure now on shipboard to set-
tle that question of atomic pitches, which is still a
thorn in my intellectual flesh.
I handed this letter to Gwen, and, after she had
read it through very carefully, she questioned me
about this new theory of Maitland's. I went through
the form of telling her, after the usual practice of
amiable men discoursing to women, feeling sure she
would be no wiser when I had finished, and was dum-
founded when she replied: “ It looks very reasonable.
Professor Bjerknes, if I remember the name, has
produced all the phenomena of magnetic attraction,


132 THE DARROW ENIGMA
repulsion, and polarisation, by air vibrations corre-
sponding, I suppose, to certain fixed musical notes.
Why might not something similar to this be true of
atomic, as well as of larger, bodies ? ”
If the roof of my house had fallen in, I should not
have been more surprised than at this quiet remark.
How many times had I said: “ You can always count
on a young woman, however much she flutter over
the surface of things, being ignorant of all the great
underlying verities of existence ” ? I promptly de-
cided, on all future occasions, to add to that—“When
not brought up by her father.” I was convinced
that of the attainments of a girl educated by her
father absolutely nothing could be definitely pre-
dicted.
We had a short note from Maitland written at
Trieste. He excused its brevity by saying he had
been obliged to travel night and day in order to reach
this port in time to catch the Austrian Lloyd steamer
Helois, bound for Aden, Bombay, Ceylon, Singapore,
and Hong Kong. From Aden I received the follow-
ing:
MY DEAR DOCTOR:
We have just been through the Red Sea, and I
know now the real origin of the Calvinistic hell.


THE DARROW ENIGMA 133
Imagine it! A cloudless sky; the sun beating down
with an intolerable fierceness; not a breath stirring,
and the thermometer registering 120° F. in the shade!
It seemed as though reason must desert us. The con-
stant motion of the punkas in the saloons, and an
unlimited supply of ice-water was all that saved us.
Sleep was hardly to be thought of, for at no time dur-
ing the night did the mercury drop below 100° F.
Apart from the oppressive heat referred to, the entire
voyage has been exceedingly pleasant. I have not
solved the atomic-pitch problems, as attendance at
meals has left me little time for anything else. They
seem to eat all the time on these boats. At 8
A. M. coffee and bread; at ten a hearty breakfast of
meat, eggs, curry and rice, vegetables and fruit;
at 1 P. M. a luncheon, called “ tiffin," of cold meats,
bread and butter, potatoes, and tea; at five o'clock a
regular dinner of soups, meats with relishes, fari-
naceous dishes, dessert, fruits, and coffee, and lastly,
at 8 P. M., the evening meal of tea, bread and
butter, and other light dishes. Five meals a day,
and there are some English people who fill up the
gaps between them by constantly munching nuts and
sweets! Verily, if specialisation of function means
anything, some of these people will soon become huge
gastric balloons with a little wart on top representing
the atrophied brain structure. They run their en-
gines of digestion wholly on the high-pressure
system.
sweets! Ven them by coglish people


134 THE DARROW ENIGMA
After eight days' voyage on the Indian Ocean we
shall be in Bombay. I must close now, for there is
really nothing to say, and, besides, I am wanted on
deck. My engagement is with a Rev. Mr. Barrows,
who is bound as missionary to Hong Kong. This
worthy Methodist gentleman is very much exercised
because I insist that potentiality is necessity and
rebut his arguments on free-will. He got quite ex-
cited yesterday, and said to me severely: “Do you
mean to say, young man, that I can't do as I please?”
I must say I don't think his warmth was much allayed
by my replying: “I certainly mean to say you can't
please as you please. You may eat sugar because
you prefer it to vinegar, but you can't prefer it just
because you will to do so." He has probably got
some new arguments now and is anxious to try their
effect, so, with kind regards to Miss Darrow-I trust
she is well—I remain,
Cordially your friend,
GEORGE MAITLAND.
P. S. (Like a woman I always write a post-
script.) You shall hear again from me as soon as
I reach Bombay.
This last promise was religiously kept, though his
letter was short and merely announced his safe arrival
early that morning. He closed by saying: “I have
not yet breakfasted, preferring to do so on land, and


THE DARROW ENIGMA 135
I feel that I can do justice to whatever is set before
me. I intend, as soon as I have taken the edge off
my appetite, to set out immediately for Malabar
Hill, as I believe that to be our proper starting-
point. I inclose a little sketch I made of Bombay
as we came up its harbour, thinking it may interest
Miss Darrow. Kindly give it to her with my re-
gards. You will note that there are two tongues of
land in the picture. On the eastern side is the suburb
of Calaba, and on the western our Malabar Hill.
Good-bye until I have something of interest to
report.”
I gave the sketch to Gwen, and she seemed greatly
pleased with it.
“Are you aware,” she said to me, “ that Mr. Mait-
land draws with rare precision?”
“I am fully persuaded," I rejoined, “ that he
does not do anything which he cannot do well.”
“I believe there is nothing,” she continued, " which
so conduces to the habit of thoroughness as the ex-
periments of chemistry. When one learns that even
a grain of dust will, in some cases, vitiate every-
thing, he acquires a new conception of the term
clean’ and is likely to be thorough in washing
his apparatus. From this the habit grows upon him


136 THE DARROW ENIGMA
and widens its application until it embraces all his
actions."
This remark did not surprise me as it would have
a few weeks before, for I had come to learn that Gwen
was liable at any time to suddenly evince a very un-
feminine depth of observation and firmness of philo-
sophical grasp.
Maitland had been gone just six weeks to a day
when we received from him the first news having any
particular bearing upon the matter which had taken
him abroad. I give this communication in his own
words, omitting only a few personal observations
which I do not feel justified in disclosing, and which,
moreover, are not necessary to the completeness of
this narrative:
MY DEAR Doctor:
I have at last something to report bearing upon
the case that brought me here, and perhaps I can
best relate it by simply telling you what my move-
ments have been since my arrival. My first errand
was to Malabar Hill. I thought it wise to possess
myself, so far as possible, of facts proving the
authenticity of Mr. Darrow's narrative. I found
without difficulty thc banyan tree which had been the
trysting-place, and close by it the little cave with its
mysterious well,— everything in fact precisely as re-


THE DARROW ENIGMA 137
lated, even to the “ Parsees?” garden or cemetery, with
its “ Tower of Silence,” or “ Dakhma," as it is called
by the natives. The cave and the banyan are among
the many attractions of what is now Herr Blaschek's
villa. This gentleman, with true German hospi-
tality, asked me to spend a few days with him, and
I was only too glad to accept his invitation, as I be-
lieved his knowledge of Bombay might be of great
service to me. In this I did not mistake. I told
him I wished to ascertain the whereabouts of a Rama
Ragobah, who had been something between a rishi
and a fakir, and he directed me at once to a fakir
named Parinama who, he said, would be able to locate
my man, if he were still alive and in Bombay.
You can imagine how agreeably surprised I was to
find that Parinama knew Ragobah well. I had an-
ticipated some considerable difficulty in learning the
latter's whereabouts, and here was a man who could-
for a sufficient consideration—tell me much, if not
all, about him. I secured an interpreter, paid Pari-
nama my money, and proceeded to catechise him. I
give you my questions and his answers just as I jotted
them down in my notebook :
Q. What is Ragobah's full name?
A. Rama Ragobah.
Q. How long have you known him?
A. Thirty-five year.
Q. Has he always lived in Bombay?
A. No, Sahib.


THE DARROW ENIGMA 139
overbearing, and selfish. He most hated by those
who best know him.
Q. He is a friend of yours, you say?
A. I say no such thing! Do you think I sell secret
of friend? I have great reason for hating him,
or I not now be earning your money.
Q. Ah! I see. What did you say he wanted of
this Englishman?
A. I no say, Sahib.
Q. You said some personal affair of long stand-
ing, I believe.
A. Yes, Sahib.
Q. Do you know its nature?
A. No; I not know it, but I have not much doubt
about it, Sahib.
Q. What do you think, then?
A. I think there but one passion strong enough
in Ragobah to make plain his hunt like dog for
last twenty year. Such persevere mean strong
motive, and as I have good reason to remember how
quick he forget a kindness, I know he not moved by
friendship, Sahib.
Q. His motive then is
A. Revenge.
Q. Have you any idea why he cherishes this
malice?
A. I think it because some old love affair; some
rival in his wife's love.
Q. Indeed! Then he has been married?
anu.


THE DARROW ENIGMA 141
A. He write that he think he return on the Dal-
matia. She due next day after to-morrow.
Q. Has Ragobah any physical peculiarities?
A. His hands and feet they very small for man so
big and strong.
Q. Anything else?
A. His left leg been hurt. The foot very bad
shape, and the whole leg some bad, and,—what you
call-halt when he walk.
Q. Has he the habit of biting his finger nails?
A. I not know he has, Sahib.
This completed the list of questions which I had
desired to ask him, so, after once more receiving his
assurance that he would meet me in the evening with
his friend Scindia, I left him. As you know, I am
not wont to draw conclusions until all the evidence
is in, but I must confess that, looking at the whole
matter from start to finish, there seems to have fallen
upon Ragobah a net of circumstantial evidence so
strong, and with a mesh of detail so minute, that it
does not seem possible a mosquito could escape from
it. Look at it a moment from this standpoint.
Ragobah alone, so far as we know, has a motive for
the murder. His victim has related the feud existing
between them and foretold, with an air of the utmost
assurance, just such an outcome thereof. Add to
this that this man leaves India on a mission which
those about him do not hesitate to pronounce one of
vengeance, at just such a time as would enable him


THE DARROW ENIGMA 143
A. It is not Moro Scindia's habit to play the hypo-
crite. I have good reason to hate him.
Q. You would not, then, had he committed a crime,
assist him to escape justice?
A. I would track him like a bloodhound to the ends
of the earth.
Q. You knew Ragobah's wife?
A. She was my cousin, Sahib.
Q. Were your relations friendly?
A. They were more than friendly. I loved her
dearly, and would have tried to win her had I not
been so much her senior.
Q. Did she live happily with Ragobah?
A. No, Sahib.
Q. Why?
A. I cannot answer. I have sworn to reveal the
last experiences of my cousin to but one person.
Q. And that person is ?
A. I must decline to answer that also, Sahib.
Q. If I succeed in naming him will you acknowl-
edge it?
A. You will not succeed, Sahib.
Q. But if I should?
A. I will acknowledge it.
Q. The person is John Hinton Darrow.
The old man started as if he had been stabbed, and
looked at me in amazement. He seemed at first to
think I had read his thoughts and riveted his dark
eyes upon me as if, by way of return, he would read


144 THE DARROW ENIGMA
my very soul. I think he did so, for his scrutiny
seemed to satisfy him. He replied, somewhat reas-
sured: “I can speak only to John Hinton Darrow.”
“ John Darrow is dead,” I said.
“Dead!” he exclaimed, springing to his feet;
“ Darrow Sahib dead!” and he fell back into his chair,
covering his face with his hands. “Ah, my poor
Lona!” he muttered feebly; "I have failed to keep
my promise. Do not reproach me, for I have done
my best. For twenty years have I searched in vain
for this man that I might fulfil your last request,
and the very first information I receive is the news of
his death. I have been no less vigilant than Rago-
bah, yet I have failed, even as he has failed.”
I took this opportunity to again question him.
Q. Are you sure Ragobah failed?
A. Yes; had he found Darrow Sahib he would have
killed him. His mission was one of revenge; mine
one of love and justice; both have failed utterly since
their object is dead. My pledge is broken!
Q. In its letter, yes; but the chance is still left
you to keep the spirit of your covenant.
A. I do not understand you, Sahib.
Q. I will explain. Lona Ragobah confided to you
certain facts in explanation of her conduct toward
John Darrow. She loved him passionately, and it was
her desire to stand acquitted in his sight. Were she
alive now, any wish he had expressed during his life
would be fulfilled by her as a sacred and pleasurable


THE DARROW ENIGMA 145
duty. This, then, as one who lovingly performs her
will, should be your attitude also. John Darrow
was the only man she ever loved, and, were she living,
every drop of her loyal blood would rise against any-
one who had done him injury. Do I not speak the
truth?
A. Yes ; she was loyal unto death and so shall I be.
My hand has ever been against all who have done
her harm; Ragobah knows that full well.
Q. Were she alive, you certainly would aid her in
bringing to justice one who has done her the most
cruel of wrongs and, at the same time, fulfilling the
dying request of the man who to her was more than
life.
A. I should do her bidding, Sahib.
Q. How much more need, then, now that the poor
woman is dead, that you should act for her as she
would, were she here.
A. You have not told me all; speak your mind
freely, Sahib. You may depend upon my doing
whatever I believe Lona would do were she here.
Q. I ask nothing more, and am now prepared to
fully confide in you. As you doubtless know, Rama
Ragobah left Bombay for New York about eleven
weeks ago. He went, I have been told, on an errand
of revenge. Six weeks ago John Darrow was mur-
dered. He left behind him a written statement de-
scribing his wooing of Lona Scindia and his experi-
ences with Rama Ragobah. He asserted, further-


146 THE DARROW ENIGMA
more, his belief that he would die by Ragobah's hand,
—the hand which twice before had attempted his life.
Even as he loved your cousin, so he hated her hus-
band, and, confident that he would ultimately be killed
by him, he was haunted by the fear that he would
escape the just penalty for his crime. He bound
his heir by the most solemn of promises to use, in the
event of his murder, every possible means to bring
the assassin to justice. There can, of course, be
little doubt that the assassin and Rama Ragobah are
one and the same person. The last request John
Darrow ever made it was after he had been attacked
by the assassin—had for its object the punishment
of his murderer. Were your cousin living, do you
think she would be deaf to that entreaty?
A. No. She would make its fulfilment the one
object of her life, and, acting in her stead, I shall do
all in my power to see justice done. If I can render
you any aid in that direction you may command me,
Sahib.
Q. You can assist me by telling me all you know
of your cousin's married life, and, more especially,
the message she confided to you.
A. In doing this I shall break the letter of my
oath, but, were I not to do it, I should break the spirit
thereof, therefore listen:
You have, I suppose, already learned from the
statement of Darrow Sahib what occurred at his last
meeting with my cousin on Malabar Hill. Her act,


THE DARROW ENIGMA 147
in throwing a venomous serpent in his face, was one
which doubtless led him to believe she wished to kill
him, although it must have puzzled him to assign
any reason for such a desire. Not long after this
incident my cousin married Ragobah, a man for whom
she had always cherished an ill-concealed hatred. I
saw but little of her at this time, yet, for all that, I
could not but observe that she was greatly changed.
But one solution suggested itself to me, and that was
that she had discovered her lover false to her and
had, out of spite as it is called, hastily married Rago-
bah. I confess that when this conclusion forced
itself home upon me, I felt much dissatisfied with
Lona, for I thought such a course unworthy of her.
As I saw more of her I noted still greater changes in
her character. As I had known her from childhood,
she had been most uniform in her temper and her
conduct; now all this was changed. To-day, perhaps,
she would be like her old self ,—only weaker and more
fragile,—to-morrow a new being entirely, stronger
and more restless, with a demoniac light in her eyes,
and a sort of feverish malignancy dominating her
whole personality. When I noticed this I studied to
avoid her. If the Lona I had known were merely
an ideal of which no actual prototype existed, I
wished to be allowed to cherish that ideal rather than
to have it cruelly shattered to make room for the real
Lona. I had not seen her for many weeks when one
day, to my surprise, I received a note from her. It


148 THE DARROW ENIG MA
was short, and so impressed me that I can remember
every word of it.
“ My Dear Cousin:
“I send this note to you by Kandia that you may
get it before it is too late for you to do what I wish.
I am a caged bird in my husband's house. My every
movement is watched, and they would not let you come
to me were my husband at home, so, I beseech you,
come at once lest he should return before I have had
time to intrust to you my last request. I am dying,
Moro, and it is within your power to say whether
my spirit shall rest in peace, or be torn forever and
ever by the fangs of a horrible regret. My secret is
as lead upon my soul and to you only can I tell it.
Comecome at once!
“ Lona.”
You can imagine the effect of this revelation upon
me better than I can describe it. I did not even know
she was seriously ill, and with her urgent request for
an interview came the sad tidings that she was dying,
and the confirmation of my fear—that she had
adopted the religion of her English lover. I lost no
time in going to her. I found her in a state of fever-
ish expectation, fearful lest I should either not be
able to come at all, or her husband would return
before my arrival. She was worn to a shadow of her
former self, and I realised with a pang that she was
indeed dying.


THE DARROW ENIGMA 149
“I knew I could depend upon you, Moro," she
said as I entered, “even though you think I have
lost all claim upon your regard. I said to myself,
• He will come because of the respect he once had
for me, and I was right. Yes,” she continued,
noticing my astonishment at the change in her con-
dition, “ I am almost gone. I should not have lasted
so long, were it not that I could not die till I had
spoken. Now I shall be free to go, and the horrible
struggle will be over. You have been much among
the English, Moro, both here and in England, and
know they believe they will meet again in heaven
those they have loved on earth.”
She sank back exhausted from excitement and
effort, as she said this, and I feared for a moment
she would be unable to proceed. I told her what I
knew about the Christian's hope of heaven, and
suggested to her that, as her husband might re-
turn at any moment, she had best confide to me at
once any trust with which she wished to charge
me. For a moment she made no reply, but said at
length:
“Yes, you are right. It is not a very long story,
and I suppose I had better begin at the beginning.
You remember well my being rescued by an English
gentleman, a Mr. John Darrow. I afterward be-
came well acquainted,—in fact we were to be married.
To this union my parents strongly objected. They
had promised me to Rama Ragobah, and were hor-


150 THE DARROW ENIGMA
rified at my seeking to outrage the laws of caste by
bestowing my hand not only outside of my station
but upon a foreigner and Christian as well. This
had only the effect of causing me to meet the Sahib
secretly. We chose for our meeting-place the great
banyan on the top of Malabar Hill, where I passed
the happiest moments I have ever known. Every-
thing went well until the night on which we had
planned to run away. We were to meet at the usual
place and hour, take the night train for Matheron
Station, and there be married.
“My heart bounded with joy as I climbed Malabar
Hill on that fatal evening, but my delight was of
short duration. In my fear lest I should keep my
lover waiting I must have arrived fully fifteen min-
utes before the appointed time. I was standing with
my back against the banyan tree, awaiting the first
sound of his approach, when my attention was at-
tracted by what seemed to be two little balls of fire
shining from a clump of bushes almost directly in
front of me. They seemed to burn with a lurid and
wicked glare, and, as my gaze became entangled by
them, a tremor ran through my frame and a cold
sweat bathed my entire body. Overcome by an un-
speakable dread I made one last frantic effort to with-
draw my eyes, but could not. Then gradually, by
slow degrees, my terror was succeeded by an over-
whelming fascination. I felt myself drawn irre-
sistibly toward the thicket. Then came a vague sense


152 THE DARROW ENIGMA
too apparent aversion for him by terms of endear-
ment, but the more he pressed his suit the more my
loathing grew until, maddened by references made
to Darrow Sahib, I lost all self-control and permitted
him to learn my detestation of him. He heard me
through in silence, his face growing darker with
every word, and when I had finished said with slow
and studied malice:
••You forget that you are my wife and that I
can follow my entreaty by command. You spurn
my love. You are not yet weaned from that English
cur whose life, let me tell you, is in my hands. Fool,
can you not see how powerless you are? I have but
to will you to kill him and your first cursed failure
on Malabar Hill will be washed out with his infidel
blood. You will do well to yield peaceably. The
thread of your very existence passes through my
hands, to cut or tangle it as I list-yield you must!'
With this he strode frantically from the room, leav-
ing me more dead than alive. As he disclosed his
fiendish secret something about my heart kept tight-
ening with every word till, at length, it seemed as if
it must burst, so terrible was the pressure. I could
not breathe. My lungs seemed filled with molten lead.
How long this agony continued I do not know, for
the thread of consciousness broke under its terrible
tension and I fell senseless upon the floor.
“When I recovered from my swoon the inexpress-
ible horror of my situation again descended upon my


THE DARROW ENIGMA 153
spirit like a snuffer upon a candle. I was Ragobah's
wife, his slave, his tool, as powerless to resist his
will as if I were one of his limbs. All was now clear.
The long sleep, crowded with unremembered dreams,
represented the period when I was under Ragobah's
control,—the horrible night on Malabar Hill being
one of them,—and the waking moments, those periods
when my feeble, overridden consciousness flickered
back to dimly light for a time the gloom of this intel-
lectual night. There was no hope for me. Already
had I been so dominated by his will and inspired by
his malice as to attempt the life of my lover. What
might I not be made to do in future? As I thought
of this, Ragobah's last threat rang with a sinister
warning upon my ears till it seemed as if it would
drive me into madness. The suspicion grew to be
a certainty from which there was but one means of
escape-death—and I determined at once to embrace
it before I could be made the instrument for the in-
fliction of further injury upon my lover. I seized
a little dagger which in my normal moments I always
kept concealed about me, and was about to plunge
it into my bosom when I was smitten by the thought,
-and it cut me as the steel could not have done,-
that Darrow Sahib would never know the truth, and
that his love for me would be forever buried beneath
a mass of black misgivings. The certainty of this
conviction paralysed my will, and my arm dropped
nervelessly at my side. It would be a simple matter,


THE DARROW ENIGMA 155
your message to Darrow Sahib and to no other human
being. I shall commit your words at once to writing
that nothing may be lost through the failure of my
memory.”
She reached her hand out feebly to me, and never
shall I forget the look of gratitude which accom-
panied its tremulous pressure as she murmured:
“ After John, Moro, you are dearest. I shall not try
to thank you. May the ineffable peace which you
bring my aching heart return a thousand-fold into
your own. Farewell. Ragobah may return at any
moment. Let us not needlessly imperil your safety.
Once more good-bye. The dew-drop now may freely
fall into the shining sea.” Poor distraught child!
She had tried to adopt her lover's religion without
abandoning her own. I bent over and kissed her. It
was my first and last kiss and she gave it with a sweet
sadness, the memory of which, through all these years,
has dwelt in the better part of me, like a fragrance
in the vesture of the soul. One long, lingering look
and I departed, never to see again this woman I had
so fondly, so hopelessly loved.
You now know the exact nature of the covenant
I have felt constrained to violate. I have told you
her story in her own words. I wrote it out immedi-
ately after my interview with her and have read it
so many times, during the last twenty years, that I
have committed it to memory. The recollection of
that last meeting, of her kiss and her grateful look


156 THE DARROW ENIGMA
has been throughout all these long, weary years the
one verdant spot in the desert of my life.
[Moro Scindia paused here, as one who had reached
the end of his narrative, and I continued my interro
gations.]
Q. Although you never again saw your cousin you
must, I think, have heard something of her fate.
A. I learned of it through Nana Kandia, the ser-
vant who had secretly embraced Lona's cause, and
who had borne her message to me. It seems that,
after my interview with her, my cousin was seized
with a consuming desire to see her English lover once
more before her death; so she devised a plan by
which, with Kandia's help, Darrow Sahib was to be
secretly conducted to her under cover of night. She
wrote a letter asking him, as a last request, to meet
her messenger on Malabar Hill, and instructing him
how to make himself known. This she gave to Kan-
dia to post early in the morning of the day upon
which their plan was to be put into execution. As he
was about leaving the house Ragobah called him into
his chamber and demanded to know what was taking
him forth so early in the morning. Kandia saw at
once that the purpose of his errand had been dis-
covered, and determined to meet the issue bravely.
“I was going to post a letter, Sahib,” he replied
quietly. “Let me see it!” Ragobah roared. “I have
no right to do so,” Kandia replied, springing toward
the door. But he was not quick enough for the wary


THE DARROW ENIGMA 157
Ragobah, who felled him to the floor with a chair be-
fore he had reached the threshold. When he returned
to consciousness he found his assailant, who had skil-
fully opened the letter, standing over him perusing
it in malicious glee. When he had finished reading he
carefully resealed it and placed it in his pocket. Then
he called two of his servants and gave Kandia into
their charge with orders to gag him, to bind him hand
and foot, and, as they valued their lives, not to permit
him to leave the room till he ordered it.
What occurred between that time and the return of
Ragobah, wounded and furious, late in the evening,
we can only surmise. He doubtless posted the letter,
and went himself to meet Darrow Sahib on Malabar
Hill. When he returned home he hobbled into his
wife's apartment and then ordered Kandia to be sent
to him. His left leg was badly crushed and his face,
contorted with pain and fiendish malevolence, was hor-
rible to look upon.
“ Our trusty friend here,” he said, addressing his
wife and pointing to Kandia, “ could not conveniently
post your letter this morning, my dear, so I did it
myself.” Lona's face turned ashen pale, but she
made no reply.
“I thought,” he continued in his sweetest accents
and with the same demoniac sarcasm, “ that you
would be anxious to know if the Sahib received it,-
our mail service is so lax of late,—so I went to-night
to Malabar Hill to see, for I felt certain he would


158 THE DARROW ENIGMA
come if he got your note, and, sure enough, he was
there even ahead of time. I was obliged to forego the
pleasure of bringing him to you on account of two
most unfortunate accidents. As you see I hurt my
foot, and poor Darrow Sahib slipped and fell head-
long into the well in the little cave. As it has no
bottom I could not, of course, get the Sahib out, and
so was obliged to return, as best I could, alone.” As
he finished this heartless lie, every word of which he
knew was a poisoned dart, Lona fell fainting upon
the floor. Kandia raised her gently, expecting to
find her dead, but was able at length to revive her.
The first words she said were directed to Ragobah in
a voice devoid of passion or reproach, of everything
in fact save an unutterable weariness.
“ I am ill,” she said; “ will you permit Nana to get
me some medicine which has helped me in similar at-
tacks?” Ragobah's reply was directed to Kandia.
“ You may do as the Sahibah bids you," was all
he said.
Kandia turned to Lona for instructions and she
said to him, “ Get me half an ounce of—stay, there
are several ingredients—I had better write them
down.” She wrote upon a little slip of paper, nam-
ing aloud the ingredients and quantities as she did
so, and then asked Kandia to move her chair to an
open window before he left. When he had done so,
she passed him the note, saying, “ Please get it as
quickly as possible.” As he took the paper she seized


THE DARROW ENIGMA 159
his hand for a moment and pressed it firmly. He no
ticed this at the time, but its significance did not dawn
when, all at once, he realised with a pang that the
momentary pressure of the hand and the mute grat-
itude which shone from the eyes were meant as a fare-
well. His first impulse was to hurriedly retrace his
steps, but before he had acted upon it, the thought
occurred to him that she intended to poison herself
with the drugs he was about to procure. If this were
the case, there was no great need of hurry. Then he
began to recall to mind the names of the drugs she
had mentioned as she wrote and to reflect that not
one of them was poisonous. With this new light all
his former uneasiness returned. He strove to reassure
himself with the thought that she might, in order to
mislead Ragobah, have spoken the name of a harmless
drug while she wrote down that of a poisonous one.
It was easy to settle this question, and he determined
to do so at the next light. He unfolded the paper, ex-
pecting to see a prescription, but read instead these
words:
“ To MORO SCINDIA ;
“My Dear Cousin: Death has relieved you of the
task I imposed upon you. John Darrow's body is
in the well in the cave on Malabar Hill, where, before
this reaches you, my body will have also gone to meet
it. To this fragment of paper, then, must I confide


160 THE DARROW ENIGMA
the debt of gratitude I owe to you and to him who
will bear it to you, Nana Kandia. Good-bye. If I
had had two hearts, I should have given you one. Do
not mourn me, but rather rejoice that my struggle
and its agony are over. John has already gone-one
tomb shall inclose both our bodies—how could it have
been better?
" Lona."
No sooner had Kandia grasped the import of this
letter than he rushed with all speed to Malabar Hill,
but he was too late, for scarcely had he left the house
upon Lona's errand before she had sprung out of
the window by which he had placed her. Ragobah's
wound prevented his following her, and when he had
summoned others to pursue her, the darkness had
closed about her form and none knew the way she had
taken. At the edge of the fatal well Kandia found a
piece of paper beneath a stone and on it these words:
“ Farewell, Moro and Nana, the only beings on earth
I regret to leave !—Lona.”
The body was never recovered. The news of his
wife's death, and the knowledge that he was the cause
of it, produced an effect upon Ragobah from which
he never recovered. More than twenty years have
passed since then, yet from that day to this he has
never been known to smile. Long before his mangled
limb had healed it became evident to all who knew him
that he had henceforth but one purpose in life,-re-


THE DARROW ENIGMA 161
venge, and that nothing save death could turn him
from his purpose, so long as his rival lived. The
knowledge of this made my search for Darrow Sahib
more than ever difficult from the fact that it must
be prosecuted secretly. I could only learn that he had
left Bombay for the interior, nothing more. My in-
quiries in all the Indian cities proved fruitless, and
in many instances, I was informed that Ragobah
had instituted a search for the same man. I think,
in spite of my precautions, some of my agents ulti-
mately told Ragobah of my efforts, for I found
myself so closely watched by men in his interests that
I was at length compelled to give up the personal
conduct of the search, and to continue it through a
deputy, unknown to him. All my endeavours to find
the Sahib were, as you are already aware, fruitless,
and, until I met you, I had no doubt Ragobah's ef-
forts were equally unproductive. You have now all
the information I can offer upon the subject. If I
can be of any further service to you, you need not
hesitate to command me.
As he said this he rose to depart and I promised to
keep him informed of what occurred. I have nothing
now to do but to await, with such patience as I can
command, the arrival of the Dalmatia. It does not
seem to me altogether probable that Ragobah will re-
turn upon this boat, but if he should I shall have him
arrested the moment he sets foot on shore. If he es-


162 THE DARROW ENIGMA
cape the net that has been woven about him, I shall
be a convert to Eastern occultism and no mistake. I
trust Miss Darrow is well and hopeful. I know she
will religiously keep the promise she made, for she is
one of those women who fully understand the nature
of a covenant, and I am easier, therefore, than I other-
wise could be regarding her condition. Give her my
kind regards and tell her that she may expect news of
importance by my next communication. It is very
late, so good-bye, until the arrival of the Dalmatia.
Your friend,
GEORGE MAITLAND.
This letter was delivered one morning when Gwen,
my sister Alice, and I were at breakfast. As I broke
the seal I noticed that both ladies put down their
knives and forks and ceased to eat. A glance at
Gwen's eager face convinced me that she had no ap-
petite for anything but my letter, and I accordingly
read it aloud. When I came to the last part of it,
where Maitland referred to her, a flush, of pride I
thought at the time, overspread her face, and when
I had finished she said with some show of excitement,
“ If Mr. Maitland succeed in bringing Ragobah to
justice I-I shall owe him a debt of gratitude I can
never repay! It all seems like a romance, only so
frightfully real. We may expect another letter in a


THE DARROW ENIGMA 163
as n
few days, may we not? And Mr. Maitland, when may
we expect him?”
I replied that I thought we might reasonably ex-
pect news of importance within five or six days, and
that, so far as Maitland's return was concerned, I
did not look for it for as many weeks, as he would
doubtless have to cope with the law's delay there, as
he would if here, and to comply with many tedious
formalities before the government would allow
Ragobah to be brought to this country for trial.
The only reply Gwen vouchsafed to this statement
was a long-drawn unconscious sigh, which I inter-
preted as meaning,“ Will it never end!”


THE DARROW ENIGMA 165
stepped from the boat. When examined he did not
seem in the least disconcerted at the charges I pre-
ferred against him. This did not surprise me, how-
ever, as I had expected that a man who could roll his
naked body over the burning sands from Mahajan
to the Ganges, and who could rise from the Vaisyan
to the Brahman caste,-albeit he fell again,—would
not be likely to betray his cause by exhibiting either
fear or excitement. He acknowledged his acquaint-
ance with Mr. Darrow and the ill-feeling existing be-
tween them. When charged with his murder at Dor-
chester on the night of the 22d of April he coolly
asked if I were aware when and how he had left India.
I had not neglected to look this matter up and told
him he had left on the same steamer which had
brought him back—the Dalmatia—which should have
arrived at New York on the 21st of April, thus leav-
ing him ample time to get to Boston before the night
of the 22d. To this he replied with the utmost
assurance. (I give you the exact gist of what he said.
Since I was not able to immediately commit his lan-
guage to writing, you will, of course, hardly expect
me to remember those peculiar Oriental idioms which
an Indian, however great his command of English,
never drops. What I say here is, of course, true of
all conversations I put before you except such as I
practically reported.)—But to return to our mut-
tons. As I was saying, he replied with the utmost
assurance:


THE DARROW ENIGMA 167
to be present at its execution is quite possible, but
we may at once dismiss the idea of his having per-
sonally committed the act. You will immediately
appreciate that nearly all of the evidence which we
secured against Ragobah was directed against him
as the assassin, and is of little or no use to prove his
complicity in an affair committed by another. In
his hatred of Mr. Darrow we have, I believe, a suffi-
cient motive for the act, but what evidence have we
to support the theory that the murder was committed
by anyone acting in his interests? I must confess
my inability to detect, at present writing, the
slightest evidence that Ragobah acted through an
accomplice. So, here the matter rests.
I may state in closing that Ragobah has requested
the “ pleasure” (sic) of a private interview with me
on Malabar Hill to-morrow night. . As there is a
bare possibility he may let fall something which may
shed some light upon the accomplice hypothesis, I
have agreed to meet him at the entrance to the little
cave at nine o'clock. He has requested that I come
alone and I shall do so, but, lest you fear for my
safety, let me assure you that I know very well the
unscrupulous nature of the man with whom I am to
deal and that I shall take good care not to afford him
any opportunity to catch me unawares. You will
hear from me again after I meet Ragobah.
Remember me kindly to Miss Darrow. The
failure of my enterprise will, I know, be a bitter disap-


168 THE DARROW ENIGMA
Ima z
1063
pointment to her, and you must temper this acknowl-
edgment of it with such a hope of ultimate success as
you may enjoy. Tell her I shall never cease my
efforts to solve this mystery so long as I am able to
find a clue, however slight, to follow. At present I
am all at sea, and it looks as if I should have to go
clear back and start all over again. Ragobah, as a
point of departure, has not proved a success. With
my kind regards to you all,
I remain, cordially yours,
GEORGE MAITLAND.
I read this through aloud, despite the fact that I
knew some parts of it were intended only for my
perusal. Gwen did not speak until some minutes
after I had finished, and then only to express a fear
that, despite his caution, harm might come to Mait-
land at his interview with Ragobah. She seemed to
be far less disappointed at Maitland's failure to con-
vict Ragobah than she was fearful for her friend's
personal safety. She was restless and ill at ease for
the next two or three days—in fact, until the arrival
of Maitland's next letter. This came during my
absence on a professional call, and when I returned
home she met me with it at the door with an expres-
sion of relief upon her countenance so plain as not
to be misconstrued. We went into the sitting-room,


THE DARROW ENIGMA 169
where my sister was awaiting the news, and I read
as follows:
MY DEAR DOCTOR:
I kept my appointment last night with Rama
Ragobah and, although nothing transpired at all
likely to assist me in locating Mr. Darrow's assassin,
yet the interview, though short, was interesting and
worth narrating. Promptly at nine o'clock I was
at my post by the little cave. I am still staying with
Herr Blaschek and, as I had but a few rods to travel,
I did not quit the house until within five minutes of
the time appointed for our meeting. As I stepped
out into the darkness I noticed a tall form glide be-
hind a tree, about a rod away from the door. I
could not be sure it was Ragobah, yet I had little
doubt of it. I was a trifle taken aback at the mo-
ment, and instinctively placed my hand upon my
revolver and grasped my cane more firmly. Should
occasion require it, I counted upon this cane quite as
much as upon my revolver, for, innocent and inoffen-
sive as it looked, it was capable of most deadly exe-
cution. I had chosen it in preference to many other
more pretentious weapons which had suggested them-
selves to me. It consisted of a small, flexible steel
wire hardly bigger than the blade of a foil, sur-
mounted by a good-sized lead ball, and the whole cov-
ered with a closely woven fabric. By grasping the
cane by its lower end a tremendously heavy blow


170 THE DARROW ENIGMA
could be struck with the ball, and, if an attempt were
made to shield the head by throwing up the arm, it
was almost certain to fail of its object since the
flexibility of the wire permitted it to bend about an
obstruction until its loaded end was brought home.
You will perhaps think that, since I did not make
use of this weapon, I need not have troubled myself
to describe it. Perhaps that is so, but, let me assure
you, when I saw Ragobah, for it was he, glide be-
hind that tree, and reflected how capable he was of
every kind of treachery, I wouldn't have parted with
that cane for its weight in gold. The Indian had
pledged me to come alone and had promised to do
likewise, but I felt any tree might conceal one of his
minions, hired to assassinate me while he engaged my
attention. All this, of course, did not in the least
affect my decision. I had promised to go alone, and
Miss Darrow's interests required that I should keep
my covenant. I should have done so, even though I
had known Ragobah meant to betray me. I may as
well, however, tell you at once that my suspicions
wronged the fellow. He had evidently taken his
station behind a tree to satisfy himself, without ex-
posure, that I meant to keep my promise and come
alone.
When I reached the cave I found him awaiting me.
How he was able to get there before me passes my
comprehension, but there he was. He did not waste
time, but addressed me at once, and, as my memory


THE DARROW ENIGMA 171
is excellent and our interview was short, I am able to
give you an accurate report of what passed between
us. I copy it here just as I entered it in my note-
book, immediately upon my return to the house.
“ You naturally wish to know,” Ragobah began,
“ why I have sought this interview. That is easily
explained. You have done me the honour, Sahib,
for I feel it is such, to suspect me of the murder of
John Darrow. You have come here from America to
fasten the crime upon me, and, from the bottom of
my heart, I regret your failure to do so. I would
give everything I possess on earth, and would gladly
suffer a life of torment, to be able truthfully to say:
‘I, Rama Ragobah, killed John Darrow. But de-
spite all my efforts, I, wretch that I am, am innocent!
For more than twenty years I have had but one pur-
pose, -one thought,—and that was to track down
and slay John Darrow. This desire consumed me. It
led me all over India in vain search for him. For
nineteen years I laboured incessantly, without dis-
covering so much as a trace of him. When he fled
Bombay his belongings went inland, so I was told. I
believed the story and felt sure I should one day find
him on Indian soil. Years passed and I did not find
him. It was but a few months ago that I discovered
his ruse and learned his whereabouts. I could
scarcely contain myself for joy. My life-work was
at last to be completed. Nothing now remained but
to plan his destruction. This, however, was not so


172 THE DARROW ENIGMA
easy a thing to do, since, in order to make my re
venge complete, I must disclose my identity before
killing him. At length I decided upon a plan. I
would come upon him at night, when asleep, gag
him and bind him to his bed. Then he should learn
the name of his doomsman, and the horrible nature of
the death that awaited him.”
Ragobah paused here as if overcome by his disap-
pointment, and I said, “ And how did you intend to
kill him?” He gave a throaty chuckle, as he re-
plied: “ It was all so very pretty! I had only to
saturate the bedclothes with oil and set fire to them.
I should have lighted them at his feet and watched
the flames creep upward toward his head till safety
compelled my retreat. It was for this purpose I
went to New York. You already know the fatal
delay I incurred. When I landed I made all haste
to the home of Darrow Sahib, in Dorchester, only to
learn that he had killed himself a few days before my
arrival. The morsel for which I had striven and
hungered for twenty long years was whipped from
my hand, even as I raised it to my mouth. My
enemy was dead, beyond the power of injury, and my
hands were unstained by his blood.
“I then determined to kill his daughter. It was
the night of my enemy's burial. The Sahibah was
alone in the house and was intending to leave it that
night. I knew she would see that everything was
securely fastened before she went away, and so, when



“ AND HOW DID YOU INTEND TO KILL HIM?'”





THE DARROW ENIGMA 173
I opened one of the windows, I was sure she would
come to close it. Crouching down outside I awaited
her approach, intending to spring up and stab her
while she was pulling the window down. Every-
thing happened as I planned—what ails the Sahib?
I did not kill her! No, at the last moment some-
thing-never mind what-stayed my arm! The
death of an innocent girl did not promise me any
lasting satisfaction and I gave up the idea, returned
to New York, and re-embarked for Bombay as inno-
.cent in act as when I left it. My life had been a
failure and I had no desire to prolong it. When
you arrested me on the charge of murder, nothing
would have given me greater pleasure than to have
been able to plead guilty.
“ You already know why I so hated Darrow. He
robbed me of the only woman I ever loved. Mad-
dened by jealousy, I told her I had thrown him into
the well in the cave here. It was a lie, but she be-
lieved it, and Aed from me, and in a few minutes had
thrown herself into that bottomless hole. See, Sa-
hib,” he said, entering the cave and pointing down
the dark shaft,“ that is the road she took in order
that her bones might rest with his, and, after all,
they are thousands of miles apart. It's not the tri-
umph I planned, but it's all I have! And this is why
I brought you here; that you may take back to my
enemy's family the knowledge that in death I am
trimphant. Tell them,” he said, rising to his


174 THE DARROW ENIGMA
full height, “ that while the carcass of the English
cur rots in a foreign land, Rama Ragobah’s bones
lie mingled with those of his beautiful Lona !”—My
blood was up, and I rushed fiercely at him. With the
quickness of a cat he dodged me, spat in my face as
I turned, and, with a horrible laugh, sprang head-
long into the well. Down deeper and deeper sank the
laugh—then it died away—then a faint plash-
and all was silent. Rama Ragobah was gone!
For fully ten minutes I stood dazed and irresolute
and then returned mechanically to the house. I at
first thought of informing the authorities of the
whole affair, but, when I realised how hard it would
be for me to prove my innocence were I charged with
Ragobah's murder, I decided to keep the secret of
the well.
I shudder when I think of Miss Darrow's narrow
escape. Did you suspect who her assailant really
was? I wonder you have written me nothing about
it, but suppose you thought it would only needlessly
alarm me. If you had known it was our friend
Ragobah, you would doubtless have felt it impera-
tive that I should know of it, so I conclude from
I need not, of course, tell you, my dear Doctor,
that we have reached the end of our Indian clue, and
that I deem it wise, all things considered, for me to
get out of India just as soon as possible. If this
letter is in any way delayed, you need not be sur-


THE DARROW ENIGMA 175
prised if I have the pleasure of relating its contents
in person. Remember me to Miss Darrow and tell
her how sorry I am that, thus far, I have been unable
to be of any real service to her. As I shall see you
so soon I need write nothing further. Kind regards
to Miss Alice.
Ever yours,
GEORGE MAITLAND.
When I had finished reading this letter I looked up
at Gwen, expecting to see that its news had depressed
her. I must confess, however, that I could not de-
tect any such effect. On the contrary, she seemed to
be in much better spirits than when I began reading.
“ According to this letter, then,” she said, address-
ing me somewhat excitedly, “ we may— ” but she
let fall her eyes and did not complete her sentence.
My sister bestowed upon her one of those glances
described in the vernacular of woman as “knowing”
and then said to me: “We may expect Mr. Maitland
at any time, it seems.” “ Yes,” I replied; “ he will
lose no time in getting here. He undoubtedly feels
much chagrined at his failure and will now be more
than ever determined to see the affair through to a
successful conclusion. He is in the position of a
hound that has lost its scent, and is eager to return


176 THE DARROW ENIGMA
to its point of departure for a fresh start. I fancy
it will be no easy task to discover a new clue, and I
shall watch Maitland's work in this direction with a
great deal of curiosity.” Gwen did not speak, but
she listened to our conversation with a nearer ap-
proach to a healthy interest than I had known her to
display on any other occasion since her father's
death. I regarded this as a good omen. Her con-
dition, since that sad occurrence, had worried me a
good deal. She seemed to have lost her hold on life
and to exist in a state of wearied listlessness. Noth-
ing seemed to impress her and she would at times for-
get, in the midst of a sentence, what she had in-
tended to say when she began it! Her elasticity was
gone and every effort a visible burden to her. I
knew the consciousness of her loss was as a dull, heavy
weight bearing her down, and I knew, too, that she
could not marshal her will to resist it,—that, in fact,
she really didn't care, so tired was she of it all. Ex-
perience had taught me how the dull, heavy ache of a
great loss will press upon the consciousness with the
regular, persistent, relentless throb of a loaded wheel
and eat out one's life with the slow certainty of a
cancer. This I knew to have been Gwen's state since
her father's death, and all my attempts to bring


THE DARROW ENIGMA 177
about a healthful reaction had hitherto been futile.
It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that even the
transient interest she had evinced was hailed by me
with delight as the beginning of that healthful reac-
tion for which I had so long sought.
When a human bark in the full tide of life is sud-
denly dashed upon the rocks of despair the wreckage
is strewn far and wide, and it is with no little difficulty
that enough can be rescued to serve in the rebuilding
of even the smallest of craft. The thought, there-
fore, that Gwen's intellectual flotsam was beginning
at length to swirl about a definite object in a way to
facilitate the rescue of her faculties was to me a
decidedly reassuring one, and I noted with pleasure
that the state of excited expectancy which she had
tried in vain to conceal did not wane, but waxed
stronger as the days went by.





THE EPISODE OF THE PARALLEL
READERS





182 THE DARROW ENIGMA
me and remained motionless. The movement told
me she was trying to regain command of her faculties
and I forbore to interfere in the struggle, though I
watched her with some solicitude. My fears were
at once dispelled, however, when Maitland entered,
for Gwen was the first to welcome him. She extended
her hand with much of her old impulsiveness, saying:
“I have so much for which to thank you— "
but Maitland interrupted her. “Indeed, I regret to
say," he rejoined, “ that I have been unable thus far
to be of any real service to you. The Ragobah clue
was a miserable failure, though we may do ourselves
the justice to admit that we had no alternative but
to follow it to the end. I confess I have never been
more disappointed than in the outcome of this affair.”
“My dear fellow," I said, “we all have much to be
thankful for in your safe return, let us not forget
that.” Maitland laughed: “ That reminds me,” he
said, “ of the man who passed the hat at a coloured
camp-meeting. When asked how much he had col-
lected, he replied: “I didn't get no money, but I'se
done got de hat back. You've got your hat back,
and that's about all. However, with Miss Darrow's
permission, I shall go back to the starting point and
begin all over again.”


THE DARROW ENIGMA 188
4.
“ You are making me your debtor,” Gwen re-
plied slowly, “beyond my power ever to repay
you."
“ It is in the hope that no payment may ever be
demanded of you," he rejoined, " that I am busying
myself in your affairs.” The colour sprang to
Gwen's cheeks, but she only replied by a grateful
glance. I knew what was passing through her mind.
She was thinking of her promise of her father's
last words, and of the terrible possibilities thereof
from which Maitland was seeking to rescue her. She
felt that she could safely owe him any debt of grati-
tude, however great, while he, on his part, took what
I fancied, both then and afterward, were unneces-
sary pains to assure her that, in the event of his find-
ing the assassin, she need have no fear of his making
any claim whatsoever upon her. And so the whole
affair was dropped for the time being and the rest of
the evening devoted to listening to Maitland's ac-
count of his experiences while abroad.
The next morning I called upon our detective at
his laboratory and asked him what he intended to do
next. He replied that he had no plans as yet, but
that he wished to review with me all the evidence at
hand.
re Un ineces-


184 THE DARROW ENIGMA
“ You see,” he said, “ the thing that renders the
solution of this mystery so difficult is the fact that all
our clues, while they would be of the utmost service
in the conviction of the assassin had we found him,
are almost destitute of any value until he has been
located. Add to this that we are now unable to find
any motive for the crime and you can see how slight
are our hopes of success. If ever we chance to find
the man,—for I feel that such a consummation would
result more from chance than from anything else,-
I think we can convict him.
“Here, for example,” he said, taking up a small
slip of glass which he had cut from the eastern par-
lour window of the Darrow house, “is something I
have never shown either you or Miss Darrow. It is
utterly worthless, so far as assisting us to track the
assassin is concerned, but, if ever we suspect the right
man, the evidence on that glass would probably con-
vict him, though there were ten thousand other
suspects.”
I took the glass from him and, examining it with
the utmost care, I detected a smutch of yellowish
paint upon it, nothing more. “ For Heaven's sake,
Maitland!” I said in astonishment, “ of what pos-
sible use can that formless daub of paint be, or is


THE DARROW ENIGMA 185
there something else on the glass that has escaped
me?” He laughed at my excitement as he replied:
“ There is nothing there but the paint spot. Re-
garding that, however, you have come to a very
natural though erroneous conclusion. It is not
formless"; and he passed me a jeweller's eye-glass to
assist me in a closer examination. He was right.
The paint lay upon the glass in little irregular fur-
rows which arranged themselves concentrically about
a central oval groove somewhat imperfect in shape.
“Well,” continued Maitland, as I returned him the
magnifying glass,“ what do you make of it?” “ If
you hadn't already attached so much importance to
the thing," I said, “I should pronounce it a daub
of paint transferred to the glass by somebody's
thumb, but, as such a thing would be clearly useless,
I am at a loss to know what it is.”
“Well,” he rejoined, “ you've hit the nail on the
head,—that's just what it is, but you are entirely
wrong in your assumption that the thumb-mark can
have no value as evidence. Do you not know that
there are no two thumbs in the world which are
capable of making indistinguishable marks?” I
was not aware of this. “How do you know," I
asked, “ that this mark was made by the assassin?


THE DARROW ENIGMA 187
could, by any possibility, have made the mark upon
the glass. So there you are. But we are missing
the question before us. What line of procedure can
you suggest, Doc? I'm all at sea.”
“We must find someone,” I said, “ who could have
had a motive. This someone ought to have a par-
ticularly good reason for concealing his footprints,
and is evidently lame besides. I can't for the life of
me see anything else we have to go by, unless it be
the long nail of the little finger, and I don't see how
that is going to help us find the assassin—unless we
can find out why it was worn long. If we knew that
it might assist us. As I have already suggested, a
Chinaman might have a long nail on the little finger,
but he would also have the other nails long, wouldn't
he? Furthermore, he might use the boards to con-
ceal the prints of his telltale foot-gear; but why
should he not have put on shoes of the ordinary
type? If he had time to prepare the boards,—the
whole affair shows premeditation,-clearly he had
time to change his boots. The Chinese are usually
small, and this might easily account for the small-
ness of the hand as shown by your cast. These are
the pros and cons of the only clue that suggests itself
to me. By the way, Maitland, it's a shame we did


THE DARROW ENIGMA 189
bered that my friend Burwell, whose Uncle Tom's
Cabin Combination recently stranded at Brockton.
was at home. As you are perhaps aware an Uncle
Tom Company consists of a ‘Legree,' one or two
Markses,' one or two “Topsies,' “Uncle Tom, a
* Little Eva,' who should not be over fifty years old,
-or at least should not appear to be,—two blood-
hounds, and anybody else that happens to be avail-
able. It really doesn't make the least difference how
many or how few people are in the cast. I have
heard that an Uncle Tom manager on a Western cir-
cuit, most of whose company deserted him because
the 'ghost’ never walked, succeeded in cutting and
rewriting the piece so as to double. George Harris'
and · Legree,' “ Marks' and “Topsy,' “Uncle Tom'
and 'Little Eva. As for the rest he had it so ar-
ranged that he could himself 'get off the door' in
time to "do,' with the aid of the dogs, all the other
characters. You see the dogs held the stage while
he changed, say, from “Eliza” to Eva's father.
‘George Harris' would look off left second entrance
and say that “Legree' was after him. Then he
would discharge a revolver, rush off right first en-
trance, where he would pass his weapon to 'Eva' and
• Uncle Tom,' and this bisexual individual would dis-


190 THE DARROW ENIGMA
charge it in the wings at the imaginary pursuer,
while · Harris' would put on a wire beard, slouch hat,
black melodramatic cape, and, rushing behind the
flat, enter left as · Legree.'
“ The hardest thing to manage was the death of
• Little Eva' with • Uncle Tom' by the bedside, but
managerial genius overcame the difficulty after the
style of Mantell's · Corsican Brothers. You see it
is all easy enough when you know how. “Little
Eva' is discovered, sitting up in bed with the cur-
tains drawn back. She says what she has to say to
her father and the rest. Then her father has a line
in which he informs. Eva' that she is tired and had
better try to sleep. She says she will try, just to
please him, and he gently lowers her back upon the
pillows and draws the curtains in front of the bed.
But instead of utilising this seclusion for a refresh-
ing sleep ‘Eva’rolls out at the back side of the bed.
* Legree' snatches off ‘Eva's' wig and “Topsy'
deftly removes the white nightdress concealing his-
* Eva's '—*Uncle Tom'make-up, while the erstwhile
little girl hastily blackens his face and hands, puts
on a negro wig, and in less than a minute is changed
in colour, race, and sex. He gets round' left and
enters the sick room as · Uncle Tom' with “Topsy.'


THE DARROW ENIGMA 191
They are both told that “Little Eva' is asleep, and
*Topsy' peeps cautiously between the curtains and
remarks that the child's eyes are open and staring.
The father looks in and, overcome by grief, informs
the audience that his child is dead. “Topsy,' tear-
ful and grief-stricken, 'gets off' right and washes up
to do ' 'Little Eva' climbing the golden stair in
the last tableau. Meanwhile “Uncle Tom,' in a
paroxysm of grief, throws himself upon the bed and
holds the stage till he smells the red fire for the vision;
then he staggers down stage, strikes an attitude; the
others do likewise; picture of 'Little Eva,' curtain.
Talk about doubling ‘ Marcellus,” • Polonius,' Osric,'
and the “ First Grave Digger'! Why, that's noth-
ing to these · Uncle Tom' productions. But hold
on, where did I get side-tracked? Oh, yes, the dogs.
“Well, as I was saying, as soon as I thought of
Burwell I made up my mind at once to borrow one
of his hounds. It was late when I got to his house.
When I knocked at the door both Pompey and Cæsar
began sub-bass solos of growls, and Burwell was
awake in a minute. I told him I wanted a dog for
private business and took Cæsar off with me. He
found the trail with no difficulty, and followed it in
a bee-line down to the water, where he raised his big


194 THE DARROW ENIGMA
tell which of two alternatives Gwen preferred, since
that young lady would invariably express herself
satisfied with either and did not seem to realise why
she should be expected to have any choice in the mat-
ter. Alice was quite at a loss to understand this
state of affairs, until I told her that Gwen was in a
condition of semi-torpor in which even the effort of
choice seemed an unwarrantable outlay. She simply
did not care what happened. She felt nothing, save
a sense of fatigue, and even what she saw was viewed
as from afar,—and seemed to her a drama in which
she took no other part than that of an idle, tired, and
listless spectator. Clearly she was losing her hold
on life. I told Alice we must do our utmost to arouse
her, to stimulate her will, to awaken her interest, and
we tried many things in vain.
Maitland had been gone, I think, about three weeks
when my sister and I hit upon a plan which we
thought might have the desired effect upon Gwen.
Before her father's death she had been one of the
most active members of a Young People's Club which
devoted every Wednesday evening to the study of
Shakespeare. She had attended none of its meetings
since her bereavement, but Alice and I soon per-
suaded her to accompany us on the following week
ve


THE DARROW ENIGMA 195
and I succeeded, by a little quiet wire-pulling, in get-
ting her appointed to take charge of the following
meeting, which was to be devoted to the study of
“ Antony and Cleopatra.” When informed of the
task which had been imposed upon her Gwen was for
declining the honour at once, and the most Alice and
I were able to do was to get her to promise to think
it over a day or so before she refused.
The next morning Maitland walked in upon us.
He had found both of Mr. Darrow's former servants
and satisfied himself that they were in San Francisco
on the night of the murder. So that ended my
Chinese clue. While Alice and Gwen were discussing
the matter, I took occasion to draw Maitland aside,
and told him of Gwen's appointment to take charge
of the Cleopatra night, and how necessary it was to
her health that she should be aroused from her tor-
por. It doesn't take long for Maitland to see a
thing, and before I had whispered a dozen sentences
he had completely grasped the situation. He crossed
the room, drew a chair up beside Gwen, and sat down.
“ Miss Darrow," he began, “I am afraid you will
have a poor opinion of me as a detective. This is
the second time I have failed. I feel that I should
remind you again of our compact, at least, that part


196 THE DARROW ENIGMA
of it which permits you to dispense with my services
whenever you shall see fit to do so, and, at the same
time, to relieve you from your obligation to let me
order your actions. I tell you frankly it will be
necessary for you to discharge me, if you would be
rid of me, for, unless you do so, or I find the assassin,
I shall never cease my search so long as I have the
strength and means to conduct it. What do you
say? Have I not proved my uselessness ? ” This
was said in a tentative, half-jesting tone. Gwen
answered it very seriously.
“ You have done for me,” she said, in the deep,
vibrating tones of her rich contralto voice, “ all that
human intelligence could suggest. You have exam-
ined the evidence and conducted the whole affair with
a thoroughness which I never could have obtained
elsewhere. That your search has been unavailing is
due, not to any fault of yours, but rather to the con-
summate skill of the assassin, who, I think, we may
conclude, is no ordinary criminal. I do not know
much of the abilities of Messrs. Osborne and Allen,
but I understand that M. Godin has the reputa-
tion of being the cleverest detective in America. I
cannot learn that he has made any progress what-
soever in the solution of this terrible mystery. I do


THE DARROW ENIGMA 197
not feel, therefore, that you have any right to re-
proach yourself. Such hope as I have that my
father's murderer may ever be brought to justice
rests in your efforts; else I should feel bound to
relieve you of a task, which, though self-imposed,
is, none the less, onerous and ill-paid. Do not con-
sider me altogether selfish if I ask that you still
continue the search, and that I—that I still be held
to my covenant. I am aware that I can never fully
repay the kindness I am asking of you, but — "
Maitland did not wait for her to finish. “Let us
not speak of that,” he said. “ It is enough to know
that you are still satisfied with my, thus far, unsuc-
cessful efforts in your behalf. There is nothing af-
fords me keener pleasure than to struggle with and
solve an intricate problem, whether it be in algebra,
geometry, or the mathematics of crime; and then-
well, even if I succeed, I shall quit the work your
debtor.”
He had spoken this last impulsively, and when he
had finished he remained silent, as if surprised and
a bit nettled at his own failure to control himself.
Gwen made no reply, not even raising her eyes; but
I noticed that her fingers at once busied themselves
with the entirely uncalled-for labour of readjusting


THE DARROW ENIGMA 199
aration of her paper upon “ Antony and Cleopatra.”
Maitland, who, like all vigorous, healthy, and in-
formed intellects, was an ardent admirer of Shake-
speare, found time to call on Gwen and to discuss
the play with her. This seemed to please her very
much, and I am sure his interest in the play was
abnormal. He confessed to me that every morning,
as he awoke, the first thing which flashed into his
mind, even before he had full possession of his senses,
was these words of Antony:
“I am dying, Egypt, dying.”
He professed himself utterly unable to account for
this, and asked me what I thought was the cause of
it. He furthermore suddenly decided that he would
ask Gwen to propose his name for membership at
the next meeting of the Young People's Club. I
hastily indorsed this resolution, for I had a vague
sort of feeling that it would please Gwen.
The “ Antony and Cleopatra” night at length
arrived. We all attended the meeting and listened
to a very able paper upon the play. One of the
most marked traits of Gwen's character is that what-
ever she does she does thoroughly, and this was fully
exemplified on the night in question. Maitland was
very much impressed by some verse Gwen had written
ev
es


THE DARROW ENIGMA 201
Simoom blew ever hot within the sail
Of her desire? What if it shifted with
Direction of her breath? Or if the rudder of
Her will did lean as many ways as trampled straws,
And own as little worth? She was a woman still,
And queen. They do best understand themselves
Who trust themselves the least; as they are wisest
Who, for their safety, thank more the open sea
Than pilot will. Oh, Egypt's self-born Isis !
Ought we to fasten in thy memory the fangs
Of unalloyed distrust? We know how little
Better is History's page than leaf whereat the ink
Is thrown. Nor yet should we forget how much
The nearer thou than we didst come to
The rough-hewn corner-stone of Time. We know
Thy practised love enfolded Antony;
And that around the heart of Hercules'
Descendant, threading through and through,
Like the red rivers of its life, in tangled mesh
No circumstance could e'er unravel, thou
Didst coil, the dreamy, dazzling “ Serpent of
The Nile!” Thy sins stick jagged out
From history's page, and bleeding tear
Fair Judgment from thy merits. We perchance
Do wrong thee, Isis; for that coward, History,
Who binds in death his object's jaw and then
Besmuts her name, hath crossed his focus in
Another age, and paled his spreading figment from
Our sight. Thou art so far back toward
The primal autocrat whose wish, hyena-like,
Was his religion, that appearing as thou dost
On an horizon new flushed in the first
Uncertain ray of Altruism, thou seem'st
More ghost than human. Yet thou lovedst, loving ghost,
And thy fierce parent flame thyself snuffed out
Scarce later than the dark’ning of the fire
Thou gav'st to be eternal vestal of


202 THE DARROW ENIGMA
Thine Antony's spirit. Thou didst love and die
Of love; let, therefore, no light tongue, brazen
In censure, say that nothing in thy life
Became thee like the leaving it. The cloth
From which humanity is cut is woven of
The warp and woof of circumstance, and all
Are much alike. We spring from out the mantle, Earth,
And hide at last beneath it; in the interim
Our acts are less of us than it. We are
No judge, then, of thy sins, thou ending link
Of Ptolemy's chain. Forsooth, we are too much
O’erfilled with wondering how like to thee
We all had been, inclipt and dressed in thine
Own age and circumstance.
The exercises of the evening concluded with the
reading of the familiar poem, beginning:
“I am dying, Egypt, dying;
Ebbs the crimson life-tide fast.”
It was about noon the next day when Maitland
called upon me. “ See here, Doc,” he began at once,
“ do you believe in coincidences ?” I informed him
that his question was not altogether easy to under-
stand. “Wait a moment,” he said, “ while I ex-
plain. For at least two years prior to my recent
return from California the name . Cleopatra' has not
entered my mind. You were the first to mention it
to me, and from you I learned that Miss Darrow was
to have charge of the ' Antony and Cleopatra' night.


204 THE DARROW ENIGMA
I followed the direction of his finger, and read:
“ Boston Theatre. Special engagement of Miss
Fanny Davenport. For one week. Beginning Mon-
day, the 12th of December, Sardou's · Cleopatra.?”
I was indeed surprised, but I said nothing. The next
thing I handed him was a copy of Godey's Maga-
zine, several years old. He opened it carelessly, and
in a moment read the following line: “I am dying,
sweetheart, dying.” “ Doesn't that sound familiar?
It reminds me at once of the poetic alarm clock that
wakens me every morning,—'I am dying, Egypt,
dying. There is no doubt that Higginson's poem
suggested this one. Here is the whole of the thing
as it is printed here,” he said, and read the following:
LOVE'S TWILIGHT
I am dreaming, loved one, dreaming
Of the sweet and beauteous past
When the world was as its seeming,
Ere the fatal shaft was cast.
I am sobbing, sad-eyed, sobbing,
At the darkly sullen west,
Of the smile of ignorance robbing
The pale face against the breast.
I am smiling, tear-stained, smiling,
As the sun glints on the crest
Of the troubled wave, beguiling
Shipwrecked Hope to its long rest.


THE DARROW ENIGMA 205
I am parting, broken, parting,
From a soul that I hold dear,
And the music of whose beauty
Fades a dead strain on my ear.
I am dying, sweetheart, dying,
Drips life's gold througi palsied hands-
See; the dead'ning Sun is sighing
His last note in red'ning bands.
So I'm sighing, sinking, sighing,
Flows life's river to the sea.
Death my throbbing heart is tying
With the strings that ache for thee.
“ Yes,” I said, when he had finished. “ I shall have
to admit that immediately suggests Higginson's
poem and Cleopatra's name. But here, try this,”
and I threw an old copy of the Atlantic Monthly
upon the table. Maitland opened it and laughed.
“ This may be mere chance, Doc,” he said, “but
it is remarkable, none the less. See here!” He
held the magazine toward me, and I read: “ Cleo-
patra's Needle. The Historic Significance of Cen-
tral Park's New Monument. Some of the Difficul-
ties that Attended its Transportation and Erection.
By James Theodore Wright, Ph. D.” I was dum-
founded. Things were indeed getting interesting.
“ Magazines and newspapers,” I said, “ seem to be
altogether too much in your line. We'll try a book


206 THE DARROW ENIGMA
this time. Here," and I pulled the first one that
came to hand," is a copy of Tennyson's Poems; I
fancy it will trouble you to find your reference in
that.” Maitland took it in silence, and, opening it
at random, began to read. The result surprised him
even more than it did me. He had chanced upon
these verses from “ A Dream of Fair Women":
““We drank the Libyan Sun to sleep, and lit
Lamps which outburn'd Canopus. O my life
In Egypt! O the dalliance and the wit,
The flattery and the strife.
« « And the wild kiss when fresh from war's alarms,
My Hercules, my Roman Antony,
My mailed Bacchus leapt into my arms,
Contented there to die!
“* And there he died! And when I heard my name
Sigh'd forth with life, I would not brook my fear
Of the other! With a worm I balked his fame.
What else was left? look here!'
“With that she tore her robe apart and half
The polished argent of her breast to sight
Laid bare. Thereto she pointed with a laugh,
Showing the aspic's bite.”
“ There is no doubt about that," I said, as he laid
the book upon the table. “I want to try this thing
once more. Here is Pascal; if you can find any ref-
erence to the Serpent of the Nile' in that, you


THE DARROW ENIGMA 207
Sn
C
n
re
needn't go any farther, I shall be satisfied,” and I
passed the book to him. He turned the pages over
in silence for half a minute, or so, and then said: “I
guess this counts as a failure,—no, though, by Jove!
Look here!” His face was of almost deathly pal-
lor, and his finger trembled upon the passage it
indicated as he held the book toward me. I glanced
with some anxiety from his face to the book, and
read, as nearly as I now can remember: “If Cleo-
patra's nose had been shorter, the entire face of the
world would have been changed.”
It was some minutes before Maitland fully re-
gained his composure, and during that time neither
of us spoke. “Well, Doc,” he said at length, and
his manner was decidedly grave, even for him:
“What do you make of it?” I didn't know what to
make of it, and I admitted my ignorance with a
frankness at which, considering my profession, I
have often since had occasion to marvel. I told him
that I could scarcely account for it on the ground
of mere coincidence, and I called his attention to
that part of “ The Mystery of Marie Roget,” where
Poe figures out the mathematical likelihood of a cer-
tain combination of peculiarities of clothing being
found to obtain in the case of two young women
ance


208 THE DARROW ENIGMA
CO
who were unknown to each other. If the finding of
a single reference to Cleopatra had been a thing of
so infrequent occurrence as to at once challenge Mait-
land's attention, what was to be said when, all of a
sudden, her name, or some reference to her, seemed
to stare at him from every page he read?
“There is something in this more than natural,
If philosophy could find it out,'”
murmured Maitland, more to himself than to me.
“ Come, what do you say? " and he turned abruptly
to me with one of those searching looks so peculiar
to him in moments of excitement. “ I see,” I replied,
“ that you are determined I shall give my opinion now
and here, without a moment's reflection. Very well ;
you have just quoted · Hamlet'; I will do likewise:
« « There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy!'
“ You seem in some strange way to be dominated
by the shade of Cleopatra. Now, if I believed in
metempsychosis, I should think you were Mark An-
tony brought down to date. There, with that pres-
ent sober air of yours, you'd pass anywhere for such
: an anachronism. But to be serious, and to give you


THE DARROW ENIGMA 209
advice which is positively bilious with gravity, I
should say, investigate this thing fully; make a study
of this ancient charmer. By the way, why not begin
by going to see Davenport in Sardou's . Cleopatra'?
You have never seen her in it, have you?”
In this way I succeeded in getting him out of his
depressed state. We got into an argument concern-
ing the merits of Miss Davenport's work. I know
of nothing Maitland would sooner do than argue,
and, if attacked on a subject upon which he feels
strongly, he is, for the time being, totally oblivious
of everything else. For this reason I trapped him
into this argument. I abominate what is now known
as “realism ” just as much as he does, but you don't
have much of an argument without some apparent
difference of opinion, so, for the nonce, I became a
realist of whom Zola himself would have been proud.
“ Why, man,” I said, “ realism is truth. You cer-
tainly can't have any quarrel with that.” I knew this
would have the effect of a red rag flaunted in the face
of a bull.
“Truth! Bah!” he exclaimed excitedly. “I have
no patience with such æsthetic hod-carriers! Truth,
indeed! Is there no other truth in art but that coarse
verisimilitude, that vulgar trickery, which appeals


210 THE DARROW ENIGMA
to the eyes and the ears of the rabble? Are there
not psychological truths of immensely greater im-
portance? What sane man imagines for a moment
that the pleasure he derives from seeing that
greatest of all tragedians, Edwin Booth, in one of
Shakespeare's matchless tragedies, is dependent upon
his believing that this or that character is actually
killed? Why, even the day of the cranberry-juice
dagger is long since passed. When Miss Davenport
shrieks in ‘Fedora,' the shriek is literal— real,"
you would call it—and you find yourself instinctively
saying, “Don't don't !' and wishing you were out
of the house. When Mr. Booth, as · Shylock' shrieks
at ‘Tubal's' news, the cry is not real, is not literal,
but is suggestive, and you see at once the fiendish glee
of which it is the expression. The difference between
the two is the difference between vocal cords and grey
matter.”
“ But surely,” I rejoined, “ one doesn't want un-
truth; one wants— " but he did not let me finish.
“ Always that cry of truth!” he retorted. “Do
you not see how absurd it is, as used by your ex-
ponents of realism? With a bit of charcoal some
Raphael draws a face with five lines, and some pho-
tographer snaps a camera at the same face. Which


THE DARROW ENIGMA 211
would any sane man choose as the best work of art?
The five-line face, of course. Why? Is the work
of the camera unreal? Is it not more accurate in
drawing, more subtle in gradation than the less me-
chanical picture? To be sure. What, then, makes
the superiority of the few lines of our Raphael?
That, which makes the superiority of all noble art-
its truth, not on a low, but on a high, plane: its
power of interpreting. See!” he said, fairly aglow
with excitement. “What does your realist do, even
assuming that he has reached that never-to-be-at-
tained perfection which is the lifelong Mecca of
his desires? He gives you, by his absolutely realistic
goes with you, and interprets its grandeur to you.
stand before his canvas and enjoy it as you would
Nature herself if there. Surely, you say, nothing
more could be desired, and you clap your hands, and
shout, ‘Bravo!' But wait a bit; the other side is
yet to be heard from. What does the true artist
do for you by his picture of Yosemite Valley? He
not only gives you a free conveyance to it, but he
goes with you, and interprets its grandeur to you.
He translates into the language of your conscious-
ness beauties which, without him, you would entirely
miss. It is this very capability of seeing more in


212 THE DARROW ENIGMA
Nature than is ever perceived by the common throng
that constitutes the especial genius of the artist,
and a work that is not aglow with its creator's per-
sonality-personality, mind you, not coarse realism
-can never rank as a masterpiece. But, come, this
won't do. Why did you want to get me astride my
hobby?”
I thought it advisable to answer this question by
asking another, so I said: “ But how about Daven-
port? Will you go?”
“ Yes," he replied. “ Anything with a Cleopatra
to it interests me. I'll go now and see about the
tickets,” and he left me.
I have related Maitland's æsthetic views as ex-
pressed to me upon this occasion, not because they
have any particular bearing upon the mystery I am
narrating, but because they cast a strong side-light
upon the young man's character, and also for the
reason that I believe his personality to be sufficiently
strong and unique to be of general interest.
We went that same night to see Sardou's “ Cleo-
patra.” I asked Maitland how he liked the piece,
and the only reply he vouchsafed was: “ I have re-
cently read Shakespeare's treatment of the same
theme.”


CHAPTER II
If events spread themselves out fanwise from the past into the
future, then must the occurrences of the present ex-
hibit convergence toward some historical burn-
ing-point,--some focal centre whereat
the potential was warmed
into the kinetic.
T was nearly a week after the events last nar-
rated before I saw Maitland again, and then
only by chance. We happened to meet in the
Parker House, and, as he had some business per-
taining to a case he was on, to transact at the Court
House, I walked up Beacon Street with him. There
is a book or stationery store, on Somerset Street,
just before you turn down toward Pemberton Square.
As we were passing this store, Maitland espied a
large photographic reproduction of some picture.
“ Let us cross over and see what it is,” he said.
We did so. It was a photograph of L. Alma-Tade-
ma's painting of Antony and Cleopatra. Maitland
started a little as he read the title, and then said
lightly: “Do you suppose, Doc, that woman's
mummy is in existence? I should like to find it. I've
we
213


214 THE DARROW ENIGMA
an idea she left some hieroglyphic message for me on
her mummy-case, and doesn't propose to let me rest
easy until I find and translate it. Now, if I believed
in transmigration of souls—do you see any mark of
Antony about me? Say, though, just imagine the
spirit of Marcus Antonius in a rubber apron, making
an analysis of oleomargarin! But here we are; good-
bye,” and he left me without awaiting any reply.
He seemed to me to be in decidedly better spirits than
formerly, and I was at the time at a loss to account
for it. The cause of his levity, however, was soon
explained, for that night, as Gwen, my sister, and
I were sitting cosily in the study according to our
usual custom, Maitland walked in, unannounced. He
had come now to be a regular visitor, and I invented
not a few subterfuges to get him to call even oftener
than he otherwise would, for I perceived that his
coming gave pleasure to Gwen. She exhibited less
depression when in his presence than at any other
time. I had learned that hers was one of those deep
natures in which grief crystallises slowly, but with an
unconquerable persistence. Instead of her forgetting
her bereavement, or the sense thereof waxing weaker
by time, she seemed to be drifting toward that ever-
present consciousness of loss in which the soul feels


THE DARROW ENIGMA 215
itself gradually, but surely, sinking under an insup-
portable burden—a burden so long borne, so well
known, that the mind no longer thinks of it. The
heart beats stolidly under its load, and seems to
forget the time when it was not so oppressed. No
one knows better than we physicians the danger of
this autocracy of grief, and I watched Gwen with a
solicitude at times almost bordering on despair.
But, as I said before, she always seemed to show more
interest in affairs when Maitland was present, and,
on the night in question, his abrupt and unexpected
entrance surprised her into the betrayal of more
pleasure than she would have wished us to note, and,
indeed, so quickly did she conceal her confusion that
I was the only one who noticed it. Maitland was too
busy with the news he brought.
“Well, Miss Darrow,” he began at once, “ at last
your detective has got a clue—not much of a one
but still a clue. I can pick the man for whom we
are looking from among a million of his fellows—if
I am ever fortunate enough to get the chance."
Somebody has already called attention to the fact
that women are more or less curious, and there are
well-authenticated cases on record where this inquis-
itiveness has even extended to things which did not


218 THE DARROW ENIGMA
SO)
lame
son
some twenty names of persons who had borrowed the
book during the time I had specified. With these
twenty-odd names before me, I sat down to think what
my next step should be. I went carefully over this
chain of reasoning link by link. “I wish to find a
certain murderer, and have adopted this method in
the hope that it may help me. If I derive any assist-
ance at all from it, it will be because my man has
read this particular copy of this work; therefore, I
may as well assume at the start that among these
twenty-odd names is that of the man I want. Is
there any possibility of this crime having been com-
mitted by a woman?' was my next question, and my
answer was, “ Yes, a possibility, but it is so decidedly
improbable that I may count it out for the time
being. Accordingly, I set aside all the female
names, which cut my list down to eighteen. Several
of the applicants had only signed the initials of their
given names, and the attendant, copying them from
the slips, had done likewise; so I was obliged to go
to the registration clerk to determine this question
of sex, and, while there, I also ascertained the age
of each applicant—that is, of all but two. The reg-
istrar could give me no information regarding J. Z.
Weltz, or B. W. Rizzi. When I told him that one of


THE DARROW ENIGMA 219
the clerks had copied the names for me from appli-
cation slips, he informed me that if I would go back
to her I would undoubtedly find she had taken the
two last-mentioned names from the green slips used
in applying for books for hall use, as neither J. Z.
Weltz nor B. W. Rizzi was a card-holder.
“ I decided to let these two names rest a while, and
to give my attention to the others. After careful de-
liberation I felt reasonably sure your father's assas-
sin could not fail to be a man of mature judgment
and extraordinary cunning, probably a man past
middle life-at all events, I could safely say he was
over twenty-one years of age. Proceeding upon this
assumption my list was reduced to ten names. But
how should I further continue this process of exclu-
sion? This was the question which now confronted
me. I could think of but one way, apart from per-
sonally making the gentlemen's acquaintance, which
I did not then wish to do, and that was to ascertain
what other books they had borrowed immediately
before and after they had read “The Sign of the
Four.' This was the course I determined to pursue.
“ If you ask me why I so persistently followed an
investigation, a successful outcome of which anyone
must recognise would be little short of miraculous,


220 THE DARROW ENIGMA
a
I can only say that I felt impelled to do so. Perhaps
the impulse was due to my habit of testing patiently
and thoroughly each new theory which impresses me
as having any degree of probability, and perhaps it
was due to something elseCleopatra, perhaps, eh,
Doctor?—I don't know. I determined, however, to
thoroughly satisfy myself regarding these ten men.
I made a careful list, with the assistance of an at-
tendant, of ten books taken by each man, five taken
just prior to “The Sign of the Four, and the other
five just following it. I made no deductions until
the list was completed, although I began to see cer-
tain things of interest as we worked upon it. At
length the whole hundred titles were spread before
me, and I sat down to see what I could make of them.
I purposely reserved consideration of the books bor-
rowed by Weltz and Rizzi until the last, because I
had been able to learn nothing of them, and con-
sidered, therefore, that they were the most difficult
persons in the list about whom to satisfy myself. I
found the other eight exhibited no system in their
reading. One had read—I think I can remember
the books in the order in which they were borrowed-
“Thelma," • Under Two Flags,' 'David Copperfield,'
* The Story of an African Farm,'' A Study in Scar-


THE DARROW ENIGMA 221
let, « The Sign of the Four,' “The Prisoner of Zen-
da,' "The Dolly Dialogues,' “The Yellow Aster,'
“ The Superfluous Woman,' and 'Ideala.' This is a
fair sample of the other seven. Not so, however,
with Messrs. Weltz and Rizzi. The reading of these
men at once impressed me as having a purpose be-
hind it.
“ I will read you a list of the books taken by Weltz
and Rizzi, just to see what you will make out of it:
WELTZ
RIZZI
1. “Leçons de Toxicologie,"
par M. Orfila.
1. “Traité de Toxicologie,”
par C. P. Galtier.
2. “The Poisons of Asps and 2. “The Poisons of Asps and
Other Stories,” by Flor Other Stories,” by Flor-
ence Marryat.
ence Marryat.
3. “A Practical Essay on
Cancer,” by C. T. John
3. “A Practical Essay on
Cancer,” by C. T. John-
son.
son.
4. “The Sharper
and Exposed,”
Houdin.
Detected
by R.
4. “ The Sharper
and Exposed,”
Houdin.
Detected
by R.
5. "The Sign of the Four,” 5. “The Sign of the Four,"
by A. Conan Doyle.
by A. Conan Doyle.


THE DARROW ENIGMA 223
“ There seems to me to be a singular unanimity of .
purpose existing between these two men,” I said;
“ not only as regards the subject matter of their
reading, but in no less than six cases they have
both perused the same volume. This never happened
by chance. Clearly, they are acquaintances, and are
working together toward some common end. I
should think it very likely, judging from their inter-
est in cancers and toxicology, that they were medical
students. Numbers four and five don't exactly seem
to strengthen my medical hypothesis, but they are
only two out of the ten. That's about all I can make
out of it;” and I returned the list to him.
“ Your views in the matter,” replied Maitland,
" are precisely those which first occurred to me, and I
am not sure but I should still hold them, had I been
obliged to decide solely from the evidence I have sub-
mitted to you. It was clear to my mind from the
first that some common purpose actuated both Weltz
and Rizzi. With a view to ascertaining where they
lived as a preparatory step toward learning more of
them, I consulted a Boston directory, only to learn
that it contained no such names. I was about to
examine some of the directories of neighbouring
towns when it occurred to me that the easiest way to


224 THE DARROW ENIGMA
find their places of residence would be to consult the
green slips upon which they had procured their
books, and I accordingly asked the attendant to
kindly let me look at them. While she was collecting
the slips I re-examined the list of books taken by
Weltz and Rizzi, especially those which had been
taken by both men. One thing at once struck my at-
tention, and that was that most of these latter were
large books which would take a long time to peruse
and would require to be borrowed several times for
hall use, were they to be examined with any care. I
put this fact down for future reference and gave my
attention to the green slips, the whole · twenty of
which the attendant now placed before me. The
residence of Weltz was given as No. 15 Staniford
Place, Boston, while that of Rizzi was No. 5 Oak
Street, Boston. I was about to walk over to Oak
Street to see if Rizzi were still there when, in return-
ing the slips to the attendant, I noticed a peculiarity
in Weltz's 'z' which I had thought I had seen in
Rizzi's signature. I immediately compared the slips.
There was the same oddly shaped“ z' in both. It
was made like this ”—and he handed us a slip of
paper with this of upon it.
“ You see,” he continued, “it is so unusual a way


226 THE DARROW ENIGMA
settled, so I besought the official in charge to let me
take all the books home with me, if only for a day,
explaining to him the vital importance of my re-
quest. He readily consented and I hastened home
with the whole lot. You may imagine with what
interest I put the page I wished to examine under my
microscope and laid beside it the piece of glass which,
you will perhaps remember, I cut from a window of
the room in which the murder was committed. I be-
lieve I have never yet explained to Miss Darrow why
I preserved that bit of glass. There were two rea-
sons for it. The house had been primed that day
and there were two smutches of paint upon the glass
and two almost identical smutches upon the sill.
One was a sinuous line, as if the glass had been struck
with a short bit of rope,-or possibly rubber tubing
since no rope-like texture was visible,—which had
previously been soiled with the paint from the sill.
The other mark was that of a human thumb. I had
seen at the World's Fair an exhibit of these thumb-
marks collected by a Frenchman who has made an ex-
haustive study of the subject, and had learned there
for the first time that no two thumbs in the world
can make the same mark. I knew, therefore, that
this slip of glass would at any time tell me whether


THE DARROW ENIGMA 227
or not a suspected man were guilty. I had not failed
to get the thumb-marks of the men who painted the
house on that day, as well as those of every other
person known to be about the place. The marks
upon the glass could not, by any possibility, have
been made by any of them. The deduction was in-
evitable. They were made by the man who stood by
the window when the murder was committed.
“ You will be surprised when I tell you it was some
moments before I could summon up courage to look
through my microscope upon the page beneath it.
You see, I had been seized by an unaccountable con-
viction that I had at last found a real clue to the
murderer, and I dreaded lest the first glance should
show this to have been an idle delusion. At length
I looked. The thumb that had pressed the paper was
the thumb that had pressed the glass! There was
not a doubt of it. My suspicions were confirmed.
Everything now regarding this book was of immense
importance. The page upon which the mark was
found—well, I think you would open your eyes if I
were to read it to you. I will defer this pleasure,
however, till I see if my suspicions are correct. The
thumb-mark is upon page 469 of 'Poisons, Their
Effects and Detection,' by Alexander Wynter Blyth.
were


228 THE DARROW ENIGMA
“ No sooner had I made sure of my discovery than
I set out for No. 5 Oak Street, the address given by
Rizzi. There was no such person there, nor had there
been anyone of that name in the house during the
three years of the present tenant's occupancy. I
went to 15 Staniford Place with the same result. A
young woman about twenty-five years of age came
to the door. She informed me that she had been
born in the house and had always lived there. She
had never known anyone by the name of Weltz.
This was just what I had expected. The man for
whom we are searching is shrewd almost beyond be-
lief, and if we succeed in finding him it will not, we
may be assured, be the result of any bungling on his
part.
“I have now told you all I have learned, or rather
all that is sufficiently definite to communicate it
is not much, yet it is a clue and may serve to give our
hope a new lease of life. What do you think of it,
Miss Darrow?”
“ I think what you have learned,” Gwen replied,
“ will be of the utmost importance. You have now
something definite to guide you. I am most fortu-
nate in having the services of such a detective,
-indeed, I am at a loss to know how to thank


THE DARROW ENIGMA 229
you for all you have done,—for all you are doing,
I- "
“My dear Miss Darrow," Maitland interrupted,
“ I need no thanks. Be assured I am selfish in all I
do. It is a pleasure to me, therefore I do it. You
see I deserve no credit. If I am able to free you
from the danger of sacrificing yourself, I shall be
more than repaid.”
Gwen made no reply, but I, sitting as I did close
beside her, saw the moisture gather between her
drooping lids. Maitland took his leave almost imme-
diately, having, he said, a long evening's work before
him; while Gwen, Alice, and I discussed the news he
had brought us, until far into the night. I did not
see him the next day, which was Tuesday, and I be-
lieve not on Wednesday. It was Thursday after-
noon, if I do not mistake, that he sent me a note ask-
ing me to call on him at his office. I went at once,
thinking it might be something very important. I
found him alone and waiting for me.
“I wanted,” he began as soon as I was seated, “ to
talk this matter over with you. You see the great
difficulty which besets me in this case is that nearly
all our evidence, while it is of a nature to enable us
to convict our man once we have him, is yet of al-


THE DARROW ENIGMA 231
by the way, is abnormally long, and could only have
been spared for some special reason. The murderer
is most likely a foreigner. His handwriting would
indicate this even if we did not know, from the books
he read, how conversant he is with at least one for-
eign tongue. Again, he has some decided interest
in the subject of cancers and, perhaps, some interest
in legerdemain, if we may judge from his perusal of
Robert Houdin's book.
“ There are one or two other things I have learned,
but this, so far as any present effect is concerned, is
about all we know, and it doesn't seem to make the
conduct of our search a very easy matter. We have
clearly to deal with a man who is possessed not
merely of low criminal cunning, but, I have reason to
believe, with one who has education and culture, and,
if anything can be judged from handwriting, rare
strength of character as well. If we could only find
some motive! No one but a maniac would do such a
deed without a motive, yet we can't find one. A
maniac! By Jove! I hadn't thought of that.
What do you think of the idea ? “Though this be
madness, yet there is method in't,' eh?”
I told him that the maniac theory did not appeal
to me very strongly. “Madness, to be sure, is often


THE DARROW ENIGMA 233
we were searching for, nor anyone sent by him to
make inquiries, and then turn him over to my col-
league, Dr. Rhodes. It would never have occurred
to me to interest myself in any patient who did not
answer the description given me by Maitland, had he
not especially cautioned me in this regard.
“We have,” he said, “ to deal with a man pos-
sessed of ability of no common order. We have al-
ready seen that he never runs a risk, however slight,
which he can avoid. It is more than likely, there-
fore, if our advertisement meets his eye and interests
him, he will inquire into it through some second party.
Again, we are by no means certain that his interest
in cancers is a purely personal one. Perhaps it is a
wife, a sister, or some other relative who is afflicted.
In this case we could hardly expect him to come him-
self. Let me caution you, therefore, to closely scruti-
nise all applicants and question them until you are
satisfied they are in nowise connected with the man
for whom we are searching."
I followed this advice most carefully and had no
difficulty in convincing myself that none of my
callers had any relation whatsoever with the mur-
derer of John Darrow. This order of things was
continued for several days with the same result. In


234 THE DARROW ENIGMA
the meantime Maitland was working upon a new clue
he had discovered. He would tell me all about it, he
said, when he had followed it to the end. This was
on Tuesday. On Friday he came to the house and
informed us that he had met a man who had known a
M. Henri Cazot, a Frenchman whose description
seemed to tally perfectly with nearly all we knew of
Mr. Darrow's murderer.
“ It came about in this way,” Maitland began in
response to Gwen's request that he should tell us all
about it: “I determined to thoroughly search every
book on the ‘Weltz-Rizzi’ list, to see if I might not
get some additional clue. In the work by Robert
Houdin entitled "The Sharper Detected and Ex-
posed' I found the statement that gamblers often
neutralised a cut in a pack of cards by a rapid and
dexterous sleight. This, the book went on to say,
was accomplished in the following manner: When
the cards are cut and left in two packets upon the
table, the sharper picks up with his right hand the
parcel of cards which was originally at the bottom of
the pack. This is brought above the other packet,
as in an honest cut, but, just before releasing the
cards, the lower parcel is deftly tilted up by insert-
ing the right little finger under it, and the upper


THE DARROW ENIGMA 235
packet quickly slid beneath it, leaving the cards in
precisely the position they occupied before cutting.
For this purpose, the book continued, the nail of the
right little finger is worn very long, so as to facili-
tate its being thrust beneath a packet of cards.
Here, I said to myself, is a possible explanation of
one of the peculiarities of my plaster cast. The
long nail on the left little finger may have served its
function at the gaming table. If so, however, it
would seem to indicate that our man is left-handed,
while, as we have already seen, the writing upon the
library slips would indicate that he is ambidextrous.
We need not, therefore, I reasoned, be surprised if
we find that both little fingers have long nails. I at
once acted upon these thoughts and began a search
of the gambling resorts of this city. In order not
to excite suspicion I played a little in each place,
watching my opportunity to engage the proprietor
in conversation. In every case I followed the same
formula. Did he remember the gentleman who used
to come there? Foreigner,—spoke French, a little
under medium height; had a sort of halt in his walk ;
bit his finger nails, etc., etc. I met with no encour-
agement in the down-town places, though the pro-
prietor of one of the Hayward Place • dives' had an


238 THE DARROW ENIGMA
isn't very much, but it shows we are on the right
track. By the way, Doc, I'm going to change that
ad. to-morrow, offering treatment by letter. Per-
haps our man is too shy to apply in person. At all
events we'll give the other method a trial.”


CHAPTER III
When we least expect it the Ideal meets us in the street of the
Commonplace and locks arms with us. Nevermore
shall we choose our paths uninfluenced. A
new leaven has entered our personality
to dominate and direct it.
\HE new advertisement duly appeared and
on the next day, which was Wednes-
day—I remember it because it was my
hospital day—I received several written answers, and
among them, one in which I felt confident I recog-
nised the peculiar f's and A's of Weltz and Rizzi.
I took it at once to Maitland. He glanced at it
a moment and then impulsively grasped my hand.
“ By Jove, Doc!” he exclaimed, “ if this crafty fox
doesn't scent the hound, we shall soon run him to
earth. You see he has given no address and signs a
new name. We are to write to Carl Cazenove, Gen-
eral Delivery, Boston. Good! we will do so at once,
and I will then arrange with the postal authorities
to notify me when they deliver the letter. Of course
this will necessitate a continuous watch, perhaps for
239


THE DARROW ENIGMA 241
to elude us, whichever way she turned upon leaving
the window. We had previously planned how we
should shadow our quarry, one on each side of the
street in order not to attract attention, but these tac-
tics seemed to be entirely unnecessary, for the young
lady did not have the slightest suspicion that anyone
could be in the least interested in her movements.
She walked leisurely along, stopping now occasionally
to gaze at the shop windows and never once turning
to look back. She did not even conceal the letter,
but held it in her hand with her porte-monnaie, and I
could see that the address was uppermost. A
strange sensation came over me as I dogged her steps.
I felt as an assassin must feel who tracks his victim
into some lonely spot where he may dare to strike
him. It was useless for me to tell myself that I was
on the side of justice and engaged in an honourable
errand. A single glance at the girl's delicate face,
as frank and open as the morning light, brought the
hot blush of shame to my cheek. In following her I
dimly felt that, in some way, I was seeking to asso-
ciate her with evil, which seemed little less than
sacrilege. I could do nothing, however, but keep on,
so I followed her through Devonshire Street, to New
Washington and thence down Hanover Street al-


THE DARROW ENIGMA 243
been let for housekeeping. Everything was in ill-
repair, as is the case with most of the cheap tene-
ments in this locality. The previous tenant had not
thought it necessary to clean the apartments when
quitting them,—for altruism does not flourish at the
North End,but had been content to leave all the
dirt for the next occupant.
When we had finished reconnoitring we returned
to the room we first entered, which apparently was
the kitchen. We could still hear the voices, but not
distinctly. “Do you stay here, Doc,” whispered
Maitland, “ while I get into some old clothes and
hunt up the landlord of this place. I'm going to
rent these rooms long enough to acquaint myself
with my neighbours on the other side of the wall.
I'll be back soon. Don't let any man
room without your knowing where he goes.” With
this he left me and I soon found a way to busy my-
self in his absence. In the wall above the stove,
where the pipe passed through the partition into our
neighbour's apartment, there was a chink large
enough to permit me, when mounted upon the stove,
to overlook the greater part of the adjacent room.
I availed myself of this privilege, though not without
those same twinges of conscience which I had felt
oon.
An
roo


244 THE DARROW ENIGMA
some minutes before when following the young lady.
The apartment was poorly furnished, and yet, despite
this scantiness of appointment, there was unmistaka-
ble evidence of refinement. Everything visible in
the room was scrupulously neat and the few pictures
that adorned the walls, while they were inexpensive
half-tones, were yet reproductions of masterpieces.
In the centre of the room stood a small, deal table, on
the opposite side of which sat the man who had an-
swered my letter.
At one end of the table, poised upon the back of a
chair, sat a small Capucin monkey of the Weeper or
Sai species. He watched the man with that sober,
judicial air which is by no means confined exclusively
to supreme benches. I, too, observed the man care-
fully. He was tall and spare. He must have meas-
ured nearly six feet in height and could not, I think,
have weighed over one hundred and fifty pounds.
His face was pinched and careworn, but this effect
was more than redeemed by a pair of full, black eyes
having a depth and penetration I have never seen
equalled, albeit there was, ever and anon, a sugges-
tion of wildness which somewhat marred their deep,
contemplative beauty. The brows and the carriage
of the head at once bespoke the scholar. While


THE DARROW ENIGMA 245
thus I watched him, the young girl came from a cor-
ner of the room I could not overlook and laid my
letter before him. She stood behind his chair as he
opened it, smoothing his hair caressingly and, every
now and then, kissing him gently. He paused with
the open letter before him, reached up both arms,
drew her down to him, kissed her passionately,
sighed, and picked up the letter again. I took pains
that no act, word, or look should escape me. This
show of affection surprised me, and I remember the
thought flashed through my mind, “What incon-
sistent beings we all are! Here is a man apparently
capable of a causeless and cold blooded assassina-
tion of a harmless old man. You would say such a
murderer must be hopelessly selfish and brutal,
amenable to none of the better sentiments of man-
kind, and yet it needs but a casual glance to see how
his whole life is bound up in the young girl before
him.”
While this was passing through my mind the man
had glanced through my letter and thrown it upon
the table with an exclamation of disgust. “Bah!
he has had the effrontery," he said petulantly, “ to
send me what he calls a new mode of treatment and
it is in every essential that of Broadbent, well known


246 THE DARROW ENIGMA
for more than a quarter of a century. New indeed!
I shall never find a doctor who has any scientific
acumen. I may as well abandon the search now.
Mon Dieu! and they call medicine a science! Bah!”
and with a frown he dropped his head despondently
upon his hand. The young girl passed her hand
gently, soothingly, over his forehead and did not
speak for nearly a minute.
“ You are not feeling well to-night, father," she
said at length. “M. Godin has been here during
my absence.”
“M. Godin!” I exclaimed half aloud, catching
at the stovepipe lest I should fall from the stove.
“So our rival is hot upon the scent,-probably even
ahead of us. How on earth ” But I did not finish
the exclamation. My seizure of the pipe upon my
side of the partition had produced an audible vibra-
tion of that portion extending over the heads of my
neighbours. The young girl's quick ear had de-
tected the sound and she had ceased speaking and
fastened her eyes suspiciously upon the aperture
through which I was gazing. It seemed to me as if
she must see me, yet I dared not move. After a little
she seemed reassured and continued: “I knew he had
been here. You are always this way after his visits.


THE DARROW ENIGMA 247
Why, of late, does he always come when I am away? ”
The question seemed innocent enough, yet the man
to whom it was addressed turned crimson and then
as pale as ashes. When he spoke the effort his self-
control cost him was terribly apparent.
“We have private business, dear,” he said, “ pri-
vate business.” He hesitated a moment and again
his eyes wore the wild look I had first noticed. “I
am selling him something," he continued, “ very dear
to meas dear as my heart's blood, and I expect to
get enough for it to guard you from want.”
“And you, father?” the young girl questioned
fervently. I thought I noticed a tremor run through
his frame, as drawing her face down to his, he said,
kissing her, “Me? Never mind me, Puss; this
cancer here will take care of me.” .
She made no reply, but turned away to hide the
tears that sprang to her eyes. As she did so she
raised her face toward me. I have never been con-
sidered particularly sympathetic,—that is, no more
than the average,—but there was something in the
expression of her face that went to my heart like a
knife. I felt as if I were about to sob with her. I
do not know what it was that so aroused my sym-
pathies. We are, I fancy, more apt to feel for those


248 THE DARROW ENIGMA
whose beauty is like to the ideals we have learned to
love, than we are to be moved by the suffering of
those whose looks repel us,—and this may have had
something to do with my condition,-for the young
girl was radiantly beautiful, yet it could hardly
have been the real cause of it.
So rapt was I in the sympathetic contemplation of
her that I did not see Maitland's entrance or realise
I was observed till he plucked me by the coat and
motioned me to get down. I did so and he told me
. he had rented the rooms, and laid before me the plan
he meant to pursue.
As soon as he had ceased speaking I said to him:
“ George, you are undoubtedly on the right track.
The man in there is the one we are looking for, fast
enough, but I am afraid we are a bit too late.”
“ Too late!” he exclaimed in a tone that I feared
might be overheard. “What the mischief do you
mean?”
“I mean," I replied, “ that M. Godin is already
upon the scene."
In the next ten seconds Maitland turned all colours
and I edged nearer to him, expecting him to fall, but
he did not.
“M. Godin!” he ejaculated at length. “How in


THE DARROW ENIGMA 249
the name of all the gods at once-Doc, he's all they
claim for him, and as fascinating as he is clever;"
at which last remark a heavy cloud passed over
Maitland's face. “ Come,” he continued listlessly,
“ you may as well tell me all you know about it.”
I then confided to him what I had heard and ended
by asking him what he proposed to do.
“Do?” he replied. " There is but one thing I
can do, which makes the choice decidedly easy," and
he set his jaws together with a determined expression,
the meaning of which I knew full well.
“I shall camp right here,” he said, “ till I learn all
I wish to know of our neighbours yonder. I have
already provided myself with instruments which will
enable me to note every movement they make, indeed
to photograph them, if necessary, and to hear and
record every word they utter. You look surprised,
but it is easily done. I will place my lenses there at
the chink through which you were gazing and bring
the image down into my camera obscura by a prism
arranged for total internal reflection. As for the
hearing, that is easier yet. I will carefully work
away the plaster on this side to-night till I get
through to the paper covering their wall. This I
will leave intact to use as a diaphragm. I have


250 THE DARROW ENIGMA
then unly to fasten my carbon to it, and, behold,
we have a microphone or telephone-whichever you
choose to call it. All I have to look out for is that
I get it high enough to avoid the danger of the paper
being accidentally broken from the other side, and
that I work quietly while removing the plaster. I
shall, of course, cover it with a bit of black felt to
prevent our light from showing, and to deaden any
sounds from this side. This will enable us to hear all
that goes on in the other room, but this may not be
enough. We may need a phonographic record of
what transpires.
“ The device whereby I secure this at such a distance
is an invention of my own which, for patent reasons
-I might almost say 'patent patent reasons '-I
will ask you to kindly keep to yourself. To the dia-
phragm there I fasten this bit of burnished silver.
Upon this I concentrate a pencil of light which, when
reflected, acts photographically upon a sensitised
moving tape in this little box, and perfectly registers
the minutest movement of the receiving diaphragm.
How I develop, etch, and reproduce this record, and
transform it into a record of the ordinary type, you
will see in due time—and will kindly keep secret for
the present. You had better go now and send me


THE DARROW ENIGMA 251
the things on this list, as soon as possible,” and he
passed me a paper, continuing:
“We will not despair yet. Our clever rival may
not be ready to prove his case so quickly as we. At
all events, when he comes again I shall be in a con-
dition to ascertain how far he has progressed. I
have some things I must settle before I can ask for
an arrest, and I am not at all sure that M. Godin
is in any better condition in this regard than I am.
By Jove! I'd give something to know how that wizard
has gotten so far without so much as a single sign
to indicate that he had even moved in the matter.
I say, Doc, it beats me, blessed if it doesn't! Please
say to Miss Darrow that I am at work upon a prom-
ising cluepromising for someone, anyway—and
may not see her for some time yet."
I did as he requested, and, if I am any judge of
feminine indications, my message did not yield Gwen
unmixed pleasure; still, she said nothing to warrant
such a supposition on my part. I visited Maitland
every day to learn what he might wish me to bring
him, and also to carry him his mail, for he had de-
termined to remain constantly on the watch at his
new quarters.
I have thus far, in the narration of these incidents,


252 THE DARROW ENIGMA
been perfectly candid both as regards my friends and
myself, and, therefore, that I may continue in like
manner to the end, I shall suppress certain qualms
which are urging me to silence, and confess myself
guilty of some things of which you will, perhaps,
think I may well be ashamed. Be that as it may,
you shall have the whole truth, however it may affect
your opinion of me. One reason why I went to
Maitland's new quarters so often, and stayed there
so long, was because I was always permitted to re-
lieve him of his watch. With a telephone receiver
strapped to my right ear, and my eyes fastened upon
the screen of the camera obscura, I would sit by the
hour prying into the affairs of the two people in the
next room. I tried for a number of days to ease my
conscience by telling myself that I was labouring in
the cause of justice, and was not a common caves-
dropper. This permitted me to retain a sort of
quasi self-respect for a day or two till my honesty
rallied itself, and forced me to realise and to admit
that I was, to all intents and purposes, a common
Paul Pry, performing a disreputable act for the
gratification it gave me. I determined I would at
least be honest with myself—and this was my verdict.
You will, perhaps, fancy that when I arrived at this


254 THE DARROW ENIGMA
WOT
ver
musical as the unguided waters when Winter rushes
down the hills in search of Spring. Never you mind,
that's the way I felt about it, and, if you had been in
my place, you'd have been just as bad as I; come,
now, you know you would. Suppose I was a bachelor,
and almost old enough to be her father. Does that
help matters any? Is the heart less hungry because
it has been starved? Just look at your history.
When nuns have relapsed from other-worldliness to
this-worldliness how have they been? I'll tell you.
They have been just a round baker's dozen times
worse than they would have been if they had never
undertaken to cheat Nature. Look at the thing
fairly. I don't expect to dodge any blame that I de-
serve, yet I do want all the palliating circumstances
duly noted. Many months have passed since then,
and yet the thought of that sweet girl sends a thrill
all over me. I wonder where she is now? I feel that
we shall meet again some time, and perhaps you
will see her yourself. If so, you will see that I
couldn't be expected to withstand any such temp-
tation.
On these visits Maitland and I talked but very
little, and while I was spying nothing of interest
occurred—i. e., nothing of interest to him—or, if



THE DARROW MYSTERY SOLVED!


THE EPISODE OF THE TELLTALE THUMB





CHAPTER I
When Disaster is bigger than its victim its bolt o'erlaps the
innocent
| T was some time after Gwen had fallen before
Alice had succeeded in getting her upon the
lounge, and then all her efforts to revive her
had failed. She had remained in the same nerve-
less stupor as that in which I had found her. I
asked Alice if she knew why this announcement
had produced such an effect upon Gwen, and
she returned my question with a look of amaze-
ment.
“ Have you forgotten Gwen's promise to her
father in this matter?” she replied. “Has she not
already told you that she should keep that promise,
whatever the sacrifice cost her? She is, therefore, en-
tirely at the mercy of this M. Godin, and she is also
obliged to advise him of this fact, if she would carry
out her father's wishes. Is this nothing for a sensi-
tive nature like hers? If she has any love for anyone
else she must crush it out of her heart, for she is
259


262 THE DARROW ENIGMA
hand in it, and yet—well, there's no great harm with-
out some small good-no one will say now that John
Darrow took his own life, eh? What do you think
our friends, Osborne and Allen, will say now? They
were so sure their theory was the only tenable one.
Ah, well! we should ever hold ourselves in readiness
for surprises."
“ And for emergencies too,” I continued;“ and this
strikes me as being very like one. That young women
needs attention, if I am any judge of appearances,
and I'm going in there.” “ No use, Doc,” Maitland
replied, " the door is locked, and she either cannot or
will not open it. I knocked there for an hour, hoping
to be able to comfort her. It's no use for you to try,
she won't open the door.” “Won't, eh! then I'll go
through it!” I exclaimed, in a tone that so amazed
Maitland that he seized me by the shoulders and
gazed fixedly into my face. “ It's all right, George,”
I said, answering his look. “ I'm going in there, and
I'm not going to be at all delicate about my entrance
either.”
He looked at me a little doubtfully, but I could see
that, on the whole, he was pleased with my decision.
I went into the hall and knocked loudly on the door.
There was no response. I kicked it till I must have


264 THE DARROW ENIGMA
an explanation that, though I knew she could not
understand me, I said to her, as I took her in my
arms. * You are ill, and I must take you away
from here.”
She was just blossoming into womanhood and her
form had that exquisite roundness and grace which
it is the particular function of fashion to annihilate.
If I held her closely, I think all bachelors will agree
that it was because this very roundness made her
heavy; if I did not put her down immediately I
reached Maitland's room, it is because, as a doctor of
medicine, I have my own ideas as to how a couch
should be fixed before a patient is laid upon it.
Maitland may say what he pleases, but I know how
important these things are in sickness, and you know,
quick as he is in most things, George has moments
when his head is so much in the clouds that he doesn't
know what he is doing, and moves as if he were in a
dream set to dirge music. He kept telling me to
“ put her on the couch put her on the couch!” To
this day, he fondly believes that when I finally did
release her, it was as the result of his advice, rather
than because he had at last made a suitable bed
for her.
I sent Maitland for some medicine, which I knew


THE DARROW ENIGMA 267
may think this foolish, the more so, indeed, when
you learn that nothing was said to warrant such a
feeling, but I must urge upon you not to let your
satisfied heart set itself up as judge in bachelor
regions.
I had been mixing some medicine for her and was
holding the cup to her lips that she might drink the
draught. She laid her hand upon my wrist and
gently put the cup aside, saying, as she gazed
thoughtfully at me: “Did you not bring me here?”
“ Yes," I replied. She reached for the cup, and
drinking its contents, sank back upon the pillows
with a half-satisfied look upon her face, as if my
reply had cleared up one mystery, but left many
more to be solved.
From this day Jeannette steadily improved, and
within two weeks she and Gwen had come to a very
good understanding. It was plainly evident that
Alice, too, came in for a very good share of the little
French girl's love. They did not exchange confi-
dences to any great degree, for, as Maitland used to
say, Alice was one of those rare, sweet women who
say but little, but seem to act upon all around them
by a sort of catalysis, sweetening the atmosphere by
their very presence.


CHAPTER II
Belief, though it be as ample as the ocean, does not always
similarly swell in crystallising. It has, however, its
point of maximum density, but this, not
infrequently, is also it's point
of minimum knowledge.
URING all these days Gwen was gaining
rapidly. Maitland came to visit us al-
most every night, and he told Gwen that
he did not feel altogether certain that, in arresting
M. Latour, the law had secured her father's real as-
sassin. It would be necessary to account for, he told
her, some very singular errors in his early calcula-
tions if M. Latour was the man.
“When first I took up my abode under the same
roof with him,” he said, “ I had no doubt that we had
at last run down our man. Now, although another
detective has come to the same conclusion, I myself
have many misgivings, and you may be assured,
Miss Darrow, that I shall lose no time in getting
these doubts answered one way or the other. At
present you may say to your friend Jeannette
268 .


THE DARROW ENIGMA 269
that I am straining every nerve in her father's be-
half.”
Why all this should so please Gwen I was at a loss
to comprehend, but I could not fail to see that it did
please her greatly. She had been the most anxious of
us all to see her father's murderer brought to justice,
and now, when through the efforts of M. Godin, a
man stood all but convicted of the crime, she was
pleased to hear Maitland, whose efforts to track La-
tour she had applauded in no equivocal way, say that
he should spare no pains to give the suspect every
possible chance to prove his innocence. There was
certainly a reason, whatever it might have been, for
Gwen's attitude in this matter, for that young woman
was exceptionally rational in all things. Nothing of
especial moment occurred between this time and the
beginning of the trial. Maitland, for the most part,
kept his own counsel and gave us little information
other than a hint that he still thought there was a
chance of clearing M. Latour.
With this end in view he had become an associate
attorney with Jenkins in order the better to conduct
M. Latour's case along the lines which seemed to him
the most promising. I asked him on one occasion
what led him to entertain a hope that Latour could


THE DARROW ENIGMA 275
Q. Were you acquainted with John Darrow?
A. Yes.
Q. How long have you known him?
A. About six months—perhaps seven.
Q. What were your relations?
A. I don't understand.—We had gambled to
gether.
Q. Where?
A. In this city-Decatur Street.
Q. What motive led you to kill him?
A. He cheated me at cards, and I swore to be
even with him.
Q. Had you any other reason?
A. I owed him twelve hundred and thirty-five dol-
lars which I borrowed of him hoping my luck would
change. He won it all back from me by false play,
and when I could not meet it he pressed me over
hard.
Q. You say this occurred on Decatur Street.
What was the date?
A. I do not remember.
Q. What month was it?
A. It was in March. Early in March.
Q. You are sure it was in March?
A. Yes.


276 THE DARROW ENIGMA
Q. Should you say it was between the 1st and
15th of March?
A. Yes. I am positive it was before the 15th of
March.
Q. Have you long known that M. Godin was at
work upon this case?
A. No.
Q. When did you first become aware of it?
A. Not until my arrest.
Q. When did you first see M. Godin?
A. When I was arrested.
Q. Did he ever call at your rooms?
A. Never—not to my knowledge I never saw
him till the day of my arrest.
Q. With what weapon did you kill Mr. Darrow?
A. I made use of a specially constructed hypo-
dermic syringe.
Half-smothered exclamations of surprise were
heard from every part of the room. Even the Judge
gave a start at this astounding bit of testimony.
Every person present knew perfectly well that no
human being could have entered or left the Darrow
parlour without certain discovery, yet here was a
man, apparently in his right mind, who soberly as-
serted that he had used a hypodermic syringe. Mait-


THE DARROW ENIGMA 277
land and Godin alone seemed cool and collected.
Throughout all Latour's testimony, M. Godin
watched the witness with a burning concentration. It
seemed as if the great detective meant to bore through
Latour's gaze down to the most secret depths of his
soul. Not for an instant did he take his eyes from
Latour. I said to myself at the time that this power
of concentration explained, in a great measure, this
detective's remarkable success. Nothing was per-
mitted to escape him, and little movements which
another man would doubtless never notice, had, for
M. Godin, I felt sure, a world of suggestive signifi-
cance.
Maitland's calm demeanour, so resourceful in its
serenity, caused all eyes to turn at length to him as
if for explanation. He continued with slow de-
liberation.
Q. In what particulars was this hypodermic
syringe of special construction?
M. Latour seemed nervous and ill at ease. He
shifted from side to side as if M. Godin's glance had
pierced him like a rapier, and he were trying vainly
to wriggle off of it. He seemed unable to disengage
himself and at length replied in a wearied and spirit-
less tone:


280 THE DARROW ENIGMA
A. Yes, sir.
Q. Do you sufficiently understand chemistry to
use these terms with accuracy? Might you not have
used potassium cyanide or prussiate of potash?
A. I am a tolerably good chemist, and have
spoken understandingly. Potassium cyanide, KCN,
is a white, crystalline compound, and could hardly be
used in a hypodermic syringe save in solution, in
which condition it would not have been sufficiently
poisonous to have served my purpose.
At this reply many of the audience exchanged ap-
proving glances. They believed M. Latour had
shown himself quite a match for Maitland in not fall-
ing easily into what they regarded as a neat little
trap which had been set to prove his lack of chemical
knowledge. They attributed Maitland's failure to
further interrogate Latour upon his understanding
of chemistry as evidence that he had met an equal.
To be sure, they were not quite clear in their own
minds why Latour's counsel should be at such pains
to carefully examine a man who had already con-
fessed, but they believed they knew when a lawyer
had met his match, and felt sure that this was one
such instance.
Clinton Browne, who sat in one of the front seats,


THE DARROW ENIGMA 283
awful crime, but that he had at last concluded he
would be obliged to disclose all the particulars, and
had decided to manfully face the issue.
Every eye was fixed upon him, and every ear
strained to its utmost as he turned slowly toward the
Judge and said with a calm dignity which surprised
us all:
A. Your Honour is in error. I said that I made
use of a specially constructed hypodermic syringe.
I have not said that I struck Mr. Darrow with it.
There is, therefore, nothing contradictory in my
statements.
Again the prisoner had scored, and again the au-
dience exchanged approving glances which plainly
said: “ He's clever enough for them all! ”
Then the Court continued the examination.
Q. Were you upon the Darrow estate when Mr.
Darrow met his death?
A. Yes, your Honour.
Q. Where?
A. Just outside the eastern parlour-window, your
Honour.
Q. Did you strike the blow which caused Mr. Dar-
row's death?
A. No, your Honour.


284 THE DARROW ENIGMA
Q. What! Have you not said you are respon-
sible for his murder?
A. Yes, your Honour.
Q. Ah, I see! You had some other person for an
accomplice?
A. No, your Honour.
Q. Look here, sir! Do you propose to tell us
anything of your own accord, or must we drag it out
of you piecemeal?
A. No power can make me speak if I do not
elect to, and I only elect to answer questions. Com-
mission for contempt will hardly discipline a man in
my position, and may lead me to hold my peace
entirely.
The Court turned away with an expression of dis-
gust and engaged Jenkins and Maitland in a whis-
pered conversation. The prisoner had again scored.
There is enough of the bully in many judges to cause
the public to secretly rejoice when they are worsted.
It was plain to be seen that the audience was pleased
with Latour's defiance.
Maitland now resumed the examination with his ac-
customed ease. One would have thought he was ad-
dressing a church sociable,-if he judged by his
ise
manner.


THE DARROW ENIGMA 285
Q. You have testified to being responsible for the
death of John Darrow. The instrument with which
he was killed was directly or indirectly your handi-
work, yet you did not strike the blow, and you have
said you had no other person for an accomplice. Am
I substantially correct in all this?
A. You are quite correct.
Q. Very good. Did John Darrow's death result
from a poisoned wound made by the instrument you
have described?
A. It did.
This reply seemed to nonplus us all with the ex-
ception of Maitland and Godin. These two seemed
proof against all surprises. The rest of us looked
helplessly each at his neighbour as if to say, “ What
next? ” and we all felt,—at least I did and the others
certainly looked it,—as if the solution of the enigma
were farther away than ever.
Maitland proceeded in the same methodical
strain.
Q. A blow was given, yet neither you nor any
person acting as your accomplice gave it. Did Mr.
Darrow himself give the blow?
A. No, sir.
Q. I thought not. Did any person give it?


286 THE DARROW ENIGMA
A. No, sir.
The audience drew a deep inspiration, as if with
one accord! They had ceased to reason. Again and
again had we been brought, as we all felt sure, within
a single syllable of the truth, only to find ourselves at
the next word more mystified than ever. It would
hardly have surprised us more if the prisoner had in-
formed us that Mr. Darrow still lived. The excite-
ment was so intense that thought was impossible, so
we could only listen with bated breath for someone
else to solve the thing for our beleagured and dis-
couraged minds. After a word with his colleague,
Maitland resumed.
Q. A blow was given, yet no person gave it. Was
it given by anything which is alive?
A. It was not.
You could have heard a pin drop, so silent was the
room during the pause which preceded Maitland's
next question.
Q. Did you arrange some inanimate object or
objects outside the eastern window, or elsewhere, on
the Darrow estate so that it or they might wound
Mr. Darrow?
A. No,-no inanimate object other than the
hypodermic syringe already referred to.
Oll.


THE DARROW ENIGMA 287
Q. To my question: “A blow was given, yet no
person gave it. Was it given by anything which is
alive?” you have answered: “ It was not.” Let me
now ask: Was it given by anything which was at
that time alive?
A. It was.
There was a stir all over the court-room. Here at
last was a suggestive admission. The examination
was approaching a crisis !
Q. And you have said it was not a person. Was
it not an animal?
A. It was.
“ An animal!” we all ejaculated with the unanim-
ity of a Greek chorus. So audible were the exclama-
tions of incredulity which arose from the spell-
bound audience that the crier's gavel had to be
brought into requisition before Maitland could
proceed.
Q. Did you train a little Capucin monkey to
strike this blow?
A. I did.
A great sigh, the result of suddenly relieved ten-
sion, liberally interlarded with unconscious excla-
mations, swept over the court-room and would not be
gavelled into silence until it had duly spent itself.
is.


288 THE DARROW ENIGMA
Even the Judge so far forgot his dignity as to give
vent to a half-stifled exclamation.
Maitland proceeded:
Q. In order that this monkey might not attack
the wrong man after you had armed him, you taught
him to obey certain signals given by little twitches
upon the cord by which you held him. A certain sig-
nal was to creep stealthily forward, another to strike,
and still another to crawl quickly back with the
weapon. When circumstances seemed most favour-
able to the success of your designs,—that is, when
Miss Darrow's voice and the piano prevented any
slight sound from attracting attention,—you gently
dropped the monkey in at the window and signalled
him what to do. When Mr. Darrow sprang to his feet
you recalled the monkey and hastened away. Is not
this a fairly correct description of what occurred?
A. It is true to the letter.
Q. And subsequently you killed the monkey lest
he should betray you by exhibiting his little tricks at
an inopportune moment in a way to compromise you.
Is it not so?
A. It is. I killed him, though he was my
daughter's pet.
We were stricken aghast at Maitland's sudden


290 THE DARROW ENIGMA
tion with Jenkins and the prosecuting attorney,
Maitland turned to the prisoner and said:
“ That will do. M. Latour may leave the stand.”
It seemed to the spectators that the affair was now
entirely cleared up, and they accordingly settled
themselves comfortably for the formal dénouement.
They were, therefore, much taken aback when Mait-
land continued, addressing the jury:
“ The evidence against the prisoner would indeed
seem overwhelming, even had we not his confession.
Apart from this confession we have no incriminat-
ing evidence save such as has been furnished by the
government's chief witness, M. Godin. As it is
through this gentleman's efforts that Latour was
brought within reach of justice, it is but natural that
much should be clear to him which may be puzzling to
those who have not made so close a study of the case.
I think he will enlighten us upon a few points. M.
Godin will please take the stand.”
At this there was much whispering in the court-
room. Maitland's course seemed decidedly anoma-
lous. Everyone wondered why he should be at such
pains to prove that which had been already admitted
and which, moreover, since he was representing La-
tour, it would seem he would most naturally wish to


THE DARROW ENIGMA 291
disprove. M. Godin, however, took the stand and
Maitland proceeded to examine him in a way which
only added amazement to wonder.
Q. How long have you been at work on this case?
A. Ever since the murder.
Q. When did you first visit M. Latour's rooms?
A. Do you mean to enter them?
Q. Yes.
A. I did not enter his rooms until the day he
was arrested. I went to other rooms of the same
tenement-house on previous occasions.
Q. Have you reason to believe M. Latour ever saw
you prior to the day of his arrest?
A. No. I am sure he did not. I was especially
careful to keep out of his way.
Q. You are certain that on the several occasions
when you say you entered his rooms you were not ob-
served by him while there?
A. I did not say I entered his rooms on several
occasions.
Q. What did you say?
A. I said I never was in his rooms but once, and
that was upon the day of his arrest.
Q. I understand. Were you not assisted in your
search for Mr. Darrow's murderer by certain library


THE DARROW ENIGMA 293
A. I did not.
Q. Did you not look at any of them?
A. No. It did not occur to me to examine their
names.
Q. You probably noticed that there were several
of them. Among the pile was one by Alexander
Wynter Blyth entitled, “ Poisons, Their Effects and
Detection.” Did you notice that?
A. No. I did not notice any of them.
Q. But after you became suspicious of M. Latour,
did you not then look up the slips, find this work,
and read it?
A. No. I have never seen the book in my life and
did not even know such a work existed.
Q. Oh! Then the perusal of the books had no
part in the tracking of M. Latour.
A. None whatever.
Q. Do you ever play cards?
A. Yes, sometimes, to pass the time.
Q. Do you play for money?
A. Sometimes for a small stake-just enough to
make it interesting.
Q. Are you familiar with the house in which Mr.
Darrow was murdered?
A. I have only such knowledge of it as I acquired


294 THE DARROW ENIGMA
at the examination immediately after the murder.
You will remember I entered but the one room.
Q. And the grounds about the house? Surely
you examined them?
A. On the contrary, I did not.
Q. Did you not even examine the eastern side of
the house?
A. I did not. I have never been within the gate
save on the night in question, and then only to
traverse the front walk to and from the house in
company with Messieurs Osborne and Allen. I was
convinced that the solution of the problem was to be
found within the room in which the murder was com-
mitted, and that my notes taken the night of the
tragedy contained all the data I could hope to get.
Q. Was not this rather a singular assumption?
A. For many doubtless it would be; but I have
my own methods, and I think I may say they have
been measurably successful in most cases. [This
last was said with a good-natured smile and a modest
dignity that completely won the audience.]
At this point Maitland dismissed M. Godin and the
court adjourned for the day. That night M. Godin
made his first call upon Gwen. Their interview was
private, and Gwen had nothing to say about it


298 THE DARROW ENIGMA
value; but when, on the other hand, a prisoner accused
of so heinous a crime as murder responds to the in-
dictment, 'I am guilty,' we instinctively feel im-
pelled to believe his testimony. Why is this? Why
do we doubt his word when he asserts his innocence
and accept it when he acknowledges his guilt? I will
tell you. It is all a question of motive. Could we
see as cogent a motive for asseverating his guilt as
we find for his insisting upon his innocence, we should
lend as much credence to the one as to the other. I
propose to show that M. Latour has what seems to
him the strongest of motives for confessing to the
murder of John Darrow. If I am able to do this
to your satisfaction, I shall practically have thrown
M. Latour's entire testimony out of court, and
nothing of importance will then remain but the evi-
dence of the government's witness, M. Godin.”
A great wave of excitement swept over the room
at these remarks. “What!” each said to himself,
“is it possible that this lawyer will try to prove that
Latour, despite his circumstantial confession, did not
commit the murder after all?" We did not dare let
such a thought take hold of us, yet could not see
what else could explain Maitland's remarks. Is it
any wonder, therefore, that we all waited breathlessly


300 THE DARROW ENIGMA
door.] I shall convince you that M. Latour's de
scription of the way the murder was committed is
false.”
All eyes were turned toward Latour, but he made
no sign either of affirmation or dissent. With his
eyes closed and his hands falling listlessly in front
of him, he sat in a half-collapsed condition, like one
in a stupor. M. Godin shifted uneasily in his chair,
as if he could not remain silent much longer. Mait-
land proceeded with calm deliberation:
“ Mr. Clinton Browne "
But he did not finish the sentence. At the name
“Mr. Clinton Browne” he was interrupted by a
sudden commotion at the rear of the room, followed
by a heavy fall which shook the whole apartment.
We all turned and looked toward the door. Several
men had gathered about someone lying upon the
floor, and one of them was throwing water in the
face of the prostrate man. Presently he revived a
little, and they bore him out into the cooler air of the
corridor. It was Clinton Browne. The great ten-
sion of the trial, his own strong emotions, and the
closeness of the room had doubtless been too much
for him. I could not but marvel at it, however. Here
were delicate women with apparently little or no


THE DARROW ENIGMA 305
gested to Mr. Darrow's murderer the manner of his
assassination!” M. Godin started as if he had been
stabbed, but quickly regained his self-control as
Maitland continued: “Here is the volume in ques-
tion. You will please note the thumb-mark in the
margin of page 469. There is but one thumb in
the world that could have made that mark, and that
is the thumb you have seen register itself upon this
letter. It is also the thumb that made this paint
smutch upon this slip of glass.”
All eyes were turned upon M. Godin. He was very
pale, yet his jaw was firmly set and something akin
to a defiant smile played about his handsome mouth.
To say that the audience was amazed is to convey
no adequate idea of their real condition. We felt
prepared for anything. I almost feared lest some
sudden turn in the case might cast suspicion upon
myself, or even Maitland. Without apparently
noticing M. Godin's discomfiture, George continued:
“M. Godin has testified that he sometimes plays
cards, but only for a small stake just enough, he
says, to make it interesting. I shall show you that
he is a professional gambler as well as a detective.
“The morning after the murder was committed I
made a most careful examination of the premises,
ce was an


THE DARROW ENIGMA 307
the eastern window of the Darrow house the win-
dow through which the murder was committed. This
plaster cast was taken from an impression in the
soil beneath the same window on the morning after
the murder. The hand is the hand of M. Godin.
You will note that one of this gentleman's feet is de-
formed and that he habitually halts in his walk.”
We all glanced at M. Godin to verify these asser-
tions, but that gentleman folded his arms in a way
to conceal his hands and thrust his feet out of sight
beneath the chair in front of him, while he smiled
at us with the utmost apparent good nature. He
would be game to the last, there was no doubt of that.
Maitland recalled our attention by saying:
“ Officer, you will please arrest M. Godin!”
An excited whisper was heard from every corner,
and many were the half-audible comments that were
broken off by the imperative fall of the crier's gavel.
So tense had been the strain that it was some time
before complete order could be restored. When it
was again quiet Maitland continued:
“ Your Honour and Gentlemen of the Jury: We
will rest our case here for to-day. To-morrow, or
rather on Monday, we shall show the strange influence
which M. Godin exercised over M. Latour, as well


808 THE DARROW ENIGMA
-
as M. Latour's reasons for his confession. We shall
endeavour to make clear to you how M. Latour was
acually led to believe he had murdered John Darrow,
and how he was bribed to confess a crime committed
by another. Of the hypnotic power of M. Godin
over M. Latour I have indisputable proof, though
we shall see that M. Godin by no means relied wholly
upon this power. We shall show you also that suffi-
cient time elapsed to enable M. Godin, by great skill
and celerity, to make away with the evidences of his
guilt in time to enable him to be present with Messrs.
Osborne and Allen at the examination. In short,
we shall unravel before you a crime which, for clever-
ness of conception and adroitness of execution, has
never been equalled in the history of this community.”
Maitland having thus concluded his remarks by
dropping into a courteous plural in deference to Mr.
Jenkins, the court adjourned until Monday, and I
left Gwen in Maitland's charge while I hurried home,
fearful lest I should not be the first to bring to Jean-
nette the glad news of her father's innocence, for I
had not the slightest doubt of Maitland's ability to
prove conclusively all he had undertaken.
I need not describe to you my interview with Jean-
nette. There are things concerning it which, even


THE DARROW ENIGMA 309
seem sa
at this late day, when their roseate hue glows but
dimly in the blue retrospect of the past,-it would
seem sacrilege for me to mention to another. Be-
lieve me, I am perfectly aware of your inquisitive
nature, and I know that this omission may nettle you.
Charge it all up, then, to the perversity of a bachelor
in the throes of his first, last, and only love experi-
ence. You must see that such things cannot be con-
veyed to another with anything like their real sig-
nificance. Were I to say I was carried beyond my-
self by her protestations of gratitude until, in a
delirium of joy, I seized her in my arms and covered
her with kisses, do you for a moment fancy you could
appreciate my feelings? Do you imagine that the
little tingle of sympathy which you might experi-
ence were I to say that, instead of pushing me from
her, I felt her clasp tighten about me,—would tell
you anything of the great torrent of hot blood that
deluged my heart as she lay there in my arms, quiver-
ing ecstatically at every kiss? No! a thousand times
no! Therefore have I thought best to say nothing
about it. Our love can keep its own secrets.—But
alas! this was long ago, and as I sit here alone
writing this to you, I cannot but wonder, with a
heavy sense of ever-present longing, where on this


310 THE DARROW ENIGMA
great earth Jeannette—my Jeannette, I have
learned to call her—is now. You see a bachelor's
love-affair is a serious thing, and years cannot al-
ways efface it. But to return to the past:
Jeannette, I think, was not more pleased than Gwen
at the turn affairs had taken. Indeed, so exuberant
was Gwen in her quiet way that I marvelled much at
the change in her, so much, indeed, that finally I
determined to question Alice about it.
“I can understand,” I said to her, “why Gwen,
on account of her sympathy and love for Jeannette,
should be glad that M. Latour is likely to be ac-
quitted. I can also appreciate the distaste she may
have felt at the prospect of having to deal with M.
Godin under the terms of her father's will; but even
both of these considerations seem to me insufficient
to account for her present almost ecstatic condition.
There is an immediateness to her joy which could
hardly result from mere release from a future dis-
agreeable possibility. How do you account for it,
sis?” Alice's answer was somewhat enigmatical and
didn't give me the information I sought. “Ned,"
she replied, “ I'll pay for the tickets to the first circus
that comes here, just to see if you can find the trunks
on the elephants." Do my best, I couldn't make her


THE DARROW ENIGMA 311
enlighten me any further, for, to every question, she
replied with a most provoking laugh.
Maitland called and spent most of the next day,
which was Sunday, with us, and we all talked matters
over. He did not seem either to share or under-
stand Gwen's exuberance of spirits, albeit one could
easily observe that he had a measure of that satisfac-
tion which always comes from success. More than
once I saw him glance questioningly at Gwen with a
look which said plainly enough: “ What is the mean-
ing of this remarkable change? Why should it so
matter to her whether M. Latour's or M. Godin's
death avenges her father's murder?” When he left
us at night I could see he had not answered that
question to his own satisfaction.


CHAPTER III
The Devil throws double sixes when he turns genius hellward.
HE next morning after the events last
narrated I was utterly dumfounded by
an article which met my gaze the instant
I took up my paper. It was several moments before
I sufficiently recovered my faculties to read it aloud
to Gwen, Alice, and Jeannette, all of whom had
noticed my excitement, and were waiting with such
patience as they could command. I read the follow-
ing article through from beginning to end without
pause or comment:
M. Godin Anticipates the Law.—The Re- Mur-
derer of John Darrow Writes His Confession and
Then Suicides in His Cell.—Contrived to Mix His
Own Poison Under the Very Nose of His Jailer!—
The Dorchester Mystery Solved at Last.-Full De-
scription of the Life of One of the Cleverest Crim-
inals of the Century.
At 4.30 this morning M. Godin was found dead
in his cell, No. 26, at Charles Street Jail. The man-
312


314 THE DARROW ENIGMA
Sunday, I was permitted to have beans and brown
bread for breakfast. I asked for a little vinegar
for my beans, and a small cruet was brought to me.
I had no difficulty in secreting a considerable quan-
tity of the vinegar in order that I might, when occa-
sion served, apply it to the lead pipe. This I have
done, and have now by me enough acetate of lead to
kill a dozen men. . This form of death will not be
particularly pleasant, I am aware, but I prefer it to
its only alternative. So much for that.
“I was born in Marseilles, and my right name is
Jean Fouchet. My father intended me for the
priesthood, and gave me a good college education in
Paris. His hopes, however, were destined to disap-
pointment. In college I formed the habit of gam-
bling, and a year after my graduation found me at
Monte Carlo. While there I quarrelled with a gam-
bling accomplice and ended by killing him. This
made my stay in France dangerous for me, and I
took the first opportunity which presented itself to
embark for America.
“ Familiarity with criminals had made me familiar
with crime, and I added the occupation of detective to
my profession of gambling. These two avocations
had now become my sole means of support, and I
plied my trades in New York, Boston, and Philadel-
phia for several years, during which time I became a
naturalised citizen of the United States.
“When the Cuban rebellion broke out I could not


316 THE DARROW ENIGMA
the Inquisition itself is far from dead in Spain. Alas
for the person who is sent to Ceuta! The town is
small, and, to guard against possible attack, the
Moors constructed a chain of fortresses around it.
It is in the black cellars of these disintegrating
fortresses that the dungeons are located. They are
in tiers to the depth of fifty or sixty feet, and are
hewn out of the solid rock. They are reached
through narrow openings in the stone floors of the
fortresses, and when one of these horrible holes is
opened the foul odor of filth and decomposition is
utterly overpowering. Some of these dungeons con-
tain as many as thirty or forty men. I was placed
in a cell reserved for solitary confinement. I have
never been a man who regarded life seriously, or
feared to risk it upon sufficient occasion, but my
heart froze within me when the horror of my situation
was revealed to me. A stone box perhaps eight feet
square-as I lay upon the floor I could touch its
opposite sides with my hands and feet—had been
prepared for my entrance by cutting a slit in one
of its walls just large enough for the passage of my
body. Through this narrow opening I was dropped
into the total darkness within. A blacksmith fol-
lowed and welded my fetters, for locks and keys are
never used. A chain having a heavy weight pendant
from it was riveted to my ankle, and an iron band
was similarly fastened to my waist. This band was
fastened by a chain to an iron ring deeply sunk in the


320 THE DARROW ENIGMA
thence via Gibraltar for England. During the trip
my companion jumped overboard and was drowned
in the Bay of Biscay. Thus I was completely freed
from Ceuta and its terrible pest-hole.
“From England I sailed to New York, reaching
America penniless and in ill health. Things not
going to my liking in New York, I came to Boston
and took up my old callings of gambler and detec-
tive. It was at this time that I saw John Darrow's
curious notice in the newspaper, offering, in the event
of his murder, a most liberal reward to anyone who
would bring the assassin to justice.
“ Mon Dieu! How I needed money. I would have
bartered my soul for a tithe of that amount. It was
the old, old story, only new in Eden. Ah! but how
I loved her! She must have money, money, always
money! That was ever her cry. When I could not
supply it she sought it of others, and this drove me
mad. If, I said to myself, I could only get this
reward! This was something really worth working
for, and if I could but get it, she should be mine only.
I at once set to work upon the problem.
“ It was not an easy thing to solve. I might be able
to hire a man to do the deed for me, but he would
hardly be willing to hang for it without disclosing
my part in the transaction. It was at this time that
I first met M. Latour on Decatur Street. He at
once impressed me as being just the man I wanted,
and I began to gradually subdue his will. In this


326 THE DARROW ENIGMA
in this way undetected within twenty feet of blood-
hounds upon their trail, I felt that my tracks had
been well covered, and made all possible haste to get
ready to attend the examination with the special
detail.
“And now I have finished. Before this meets
any other eye than mine I shall be dead-beyond
the punishment of this world and awaiting the pun-
ishment of the next. Lest some may fancy I do not
believe this,—thinking that if I did I could not so
have acted, let me say there is no moral restraining
power in fear. Fear is essentially selfish, and selfish-
ness is at the bottom of all crimes, my own among
the rest. I leave behind me none who will mourn
me, and have but one satisfaction, viz.: the knowl-
edge that I shall be regarded as an artist in crime.
I take this occasion to bid the public an adieu not
altogether, I confess, unmixed with regrets. I am
now on that eminence called ' Life'; in a few minutes
I shall have jumped off into the darkness, and then
-all is mystery."
When I had finished reading this article we all
remained silent for a long time. Gwen was the first
to speak, and then only to say slowly, as if thinking
aloud: “ And so it is all over.”


CHAPTER IV
It often happens that two souls who love are, like the parts
of a Mexican gemel-ring, the more difficult to in-
tertwine the better they fit each other.
TOU may be assured that, after reading M.
Godin's confession, we looked forward to
seeing Maitland with a good deal of in-
terest. We knew this new turn of affairs would
cause him to call at once, so we all strove to possess
our souls in patience while we awaited his coming.
In less than half an hour he was with us.
“ The news of your success has preceded you,"
said Gwen as soon as he was seated. “I wish to be
the first to offer you my congratulations. You have
done for me what none other could have done and I
owe you a debt of gratitude I can never repay. The
thought that I was unable to carry out my father's
wishes,—that I could do nothing to free his name
from the reproaches which had been cast upon it, was
crushing my heart like a leaden weight. You have
removed this burden, and, believe me, words fail to ex-
327


THE DARROW ENIGMA 329
so absolutely, that what promised to be a disagreeable
responsibility has become a pleasure which I find my-
self loth to discontinue. All power leads to tyranny.
Man cannot be trusted with it. Its exercise becomes
a consuming passion, and he abuses it. The story is
the same, whether nations or individuals be considered.
I myself, you see, am a case in point. I thank you for
the patience you have shown and the pains you have
taken to make everything easy and pleasant for me;
and now I must be going, as I have yet much to do in
this matter. “It may be a long time,” he said, ex-
tending his hand to her, “ before we meet again. We
have travelled the same path ” but he paused as
if unable to proceed, and a deadly pallor overspread
his face as he let fall both her hand and his own.
He made a heroic effort to proceed.
“I-I shall miss—very—very much miss—pray
pardon me—I–I believe I'm ill—a little faint-
I'd—I'd better get out into the air-I shall-shall
miss—pardon-1-I'm not quite myself-good-bye,
good-bye!” and he staggered unsteadily, half blindly
to the door and out into the street without another
word. He certainly did look ill.
Gwen's face was a study. In it surprise, fear,
pain, and dismay, each struggled for predominance.


330 THE DARROW ENIGMA .
She tried to retain her self-control while I was pres-
ent, but it was all in vain. A moment later she threw
herself upon the sofa, and, burying her face in the
cushions, wept long and bitterly. I stole quietly
away and sent Alice to her, and after a time she re-
gained her self-control, if not her usual interest in
affairs.
As day after day passed, however, and Maitland
neglected to call, transacting such business as he had
through me, the shadow on Gwen's face deepened,
and the elasticity of manner, whereof she had given
such promise at Maitland's last visit, totally deserted
her, giving place to a dreamy, far-away stolidity of
disposition which I knew full well boded no good. I
stood this sort of thing as long as I could, and then I
determined to call on Maitland and give him a “piece
of my mind."
I did call, but when I saw him all my belligerent
resolutions vanished. He was sitting at his table try-
ing to work out some complicated problem, and he
was utterly unfitted for a single minute's consecutive
thought. I had not seen him for more than two
weeks, and during that time he had grown to look ten
years older. His face was drawn, haggard, and
deathly pale.


THE DARROW ENIGMA 331
“For Heaven's sake, George," I exclaimed, “ what
is the matter with you?”
“ I've an idea I'm spleeny," he replied with a
ghastly attempt at a smile. This was too much for
me. He should have the lecture after all. The man
who thinks he is dying may be spleeny, but the man
who says he is spleeny is, of the two, the one more
likely to be dying.
“ See here, old man,” I began, “ don't you get to
thinking that when you hide your own head in the
sand no one can see the colour of your feathers. You
might as well try to cover up Bunker Hill Monument
with a wisp of straw. Don't you suppose I know
you love Gwen Darrow? That's what's the matter
with you."
“Well,” he replied, “ and if it is, what then?”
“ What then?” I ejaculated. “What then? Why
go to her like a man; tell her you love her and ask
her to be your wife. That's what I'd do if I
loved— ” But he interrupted me before I had
finished the lie, and I was not sorry, for, if I had
thought before I became involved in that last sen-
tence, how I feared to speak to Jeannette-well, I
should have left it unsaid. I have made my living
giving advice till it has become a fixed habit.


332 THE DARROW ENIGMA
“ See here, Doc,” he broke in upon me, “I do love
Gwen Darrow as few men ever love a woman, and the
knowledge that she can never be my wife is killing
me. Don't interrupt me! I know what I am saying.
She can never be my wife! Do you think I would
sue for her hand? Do you think I would be guilty
of making traffic of her gratitude? Has she not her
father's command to wed me if I but ask her, even
as she would have wed that scoundrel, Godin, had
things gone as he planned them? Did she not tell us
both that she should keep her covenant with her
father though it meant for her a fate worse than
death? And you would have me profit by her sacri-
fice? For shame! Love may wither my heart till it
rustles in my breast like a dried leaf, but I will never,
never let her know how I love her. And see here,
Doc, promise me that you will not tell her I love her-
nay, I insist on it."
Thus importuned I said, though it went much
against the grain, for that was the very thing I had
intended, “ She shall not learn it first through me.”
This seemed to satisfy him, for he said no more
upon the subject. When I went back to Gwen I was
in no better frame of mind than when I left her.
Here were two people so determined to be miserable


THE DARROW ENIGMA 333
in spite of everything and everybody that I sought
Jeannette by way of counter-irritant for my wounded
sympathy.
Ah, Jeannette! Jeannette! to this day the sound of
your sweet name is like a flash of colour to the eye.
You were a bachelor's first and last love, and he will
never forget you.


CHAPTER V
All human things cease—some end. Happy are they who can
spring the hard and brittle bar of experience into a
bow of promise. For such, there shall ever-
more be an orderly gravitation.
TY next call on Maitland was profes-
sional. I found him abed and in a
critical condition. I blamed myself
severely that I had allowed other duties to keep me so
long away, and had him at once removed to the house,
where I might, by constant attendance in the future,
atone for my negligence in the past. Despite all our
efforts, however, Maitland steadily grew worse. Gwen
watched by him night and day until I was finally
obliged to insist, on account of her own health, that
she should leave the sick room long enough to take
the rest she so needed. Indeed, I feared lest I should
soon have two invalids upon my hands, but Gwen
yielded her place to Jeannette and Alice during the
nights and soon began to show the good effects of
sleep.
I should have told you that, during all this time,
334


THE DARROW ENIGMA 339
ment I first saw you. Oh, my God! how I adore
you!” He reached his arms out toward her, and,
in a moment, they were locked in each other's em-
brace.
I saw the first kiss given and then stole stealthily
from the room. There was now no need of a doctor.
The weird, irresistible alchemy of love was at
work and the reign of medicine was over. I did
not wish to dim the newly found light by my
shadow, and,—well,—I wanted to see Jeannette,
so I left.
I need not tell you, even though you are a bachelor,
how fast Maitland improved. Gwen would permit no
one else to nurse him, and this had much to do with
the rapidity of his recovery. In a month he was able
to go out, and in another month Gwen became Mrs.
Maitland. A happier pair, or one better suited to
each other, it has never been my privilege to know.
As I visited them in their new home I became more
and more dissatisfied with bachelor existence, and
there were times when I had half a mind to go
straight to Jeannette and ask her advice in the mat-
ter. Ah, those days! They will never come to me
again. Never again will a pink and white angel
knock so loudly at my heart, or be so warmly wel-


340 THE DARROW ENIGMA
comed. I wonder where she is and if she is thinking
of me.
And now I may as well stop, for my narrative is
over, and I hear someone coming along the hall,
doubtless after me. It is only Harold, so I may add
a word or two more. I am writing now with diffi-
culty, for some frolicsome individual has placed a
hand over my eyes and says, “ Guess.” I can just see
to write between the fingers. Again I am com-
manded, “ Guess ! ” so I say carelessly, “ Alice.”
Then, would you believe it, someone kisses me and
says: “Will you ever have done with that writing?
The children wish me to inform you that they have
some small claim upon your time.” You see how it
is. I've got to stop, so I say, as becomes an obedient
gentleman: “Very well, I will quit upon one condi-
tion. I have been wondering where on earth you
were. Tell me what you have been doing with your-
self. I have been repeating in retrospect all the hor-
rors of bachelordom.”
“ Why, Ned dear," my wife replies, “ I've only
been down-town shopping for Harold and little Jean-
nette. Bless me, I should think I'd been gone a
year!”


19308
}



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