82% F6?“ The person charging this material is re- sponsible for its return to the library from which it was withdrawn on or before the Latest Date stamped below. ‘I'hett, mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons for disciplinary action and may result in dismissal from the University. To renew call Telephone Center, 333-8400 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS llBRARY AT URBANA~CHAMPAIGN . .9000 86 Ll6l—O-1096 ~1V-‘Lr Return this book on or before the Latest Date stamped below. University of Illinois Library ‘ . 8g) 1 4 we 2 a ‘99 wit" L161—H41 BY THE SAME AUTHOR WHEN CHARLES THE FIRST WAS KING THE PATHS OF THE PRUDENT THE BUILDERS THE INVESTIGATORS THE HARVESTERS THE THREE DAYS’ TERROR LIFE IN ARCADIA THE WONDERFUL WAPENTAKE GOD'S FAILURES MISTRESS SPITFIRE THE MAKING OF MATTHIAS MORRISON’S MACHINE WHERE HIGHWAYS CROSS THE GOLDEN SPUR. A PICTURESQUE HISTORY OF YORKSHIRE 3 Vols. The Investigators By J. S. Fletcher Author of “When Charles the First was King," “The Harvesters " “The Paths of the Prudent,” “The Three Days’ Terror,” “The Golden Spur," etc. London John Long 6 Chandos Street, Strand 1902 ¢_ COPYRIGHT BY JOHN LONG, 1902. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, I? J41; (1L, ;V , I 914:1 If) 7.1!. )1! In SJE Hal, CHAPI . Napthali Hopps—Expert and Specialist - VI. 'VII. VIII. IX. CONTENTS . Dr Williams and His Niece - - - . The Bower- - - - . . _ . The Beginning of a Mystery - - - . Overheard in the Spinney - - _ _ Accident—Design_Murder—~Which '.-’ - The Crowner’s ’Quest - - - _ Miss Packer from Chicago - - - A Corner in Brains - - . . _ PAGE 9 21 33 45 59 68 79 90 {'I-u Jim! 1'” ’1 I XI. XII. XIII. XIV. . The Boss-in-Chief - - . . - Miss Packer receives Evidence - - - An Old Drama Replayed - - _ . The Next Step - - - _ - . Developments - - - . - . . Mr Isherwood’s Report - ~ . . v1i 101 112 124 135 146 157 169 '\ viii CONTENTS mm». “a: XVI. Death - - - - - - - - 180 XVII. The Packet - - - - - - 191 XVIII. The Dead Witness - - - - - 198 XIX. With the Aid of Science - - - - 214 xx. Silenced ~ - - - - - - 228 XXI. Miss Packer is Puzzled - - - - 238 XXII. Miss Packer is N onplussed - - - 249 XXIII. Miss Packer takes Action - - - - 261 XXIV. Dr Klootz - - - - - - - 272 XXV. Dr Sander-son’s Theory - - - - 283 XXVI. The End of All - - - - - - 294 THE INVESTIGATORS his charges as a regular customer, open- handed and generous, and for regular customers of that description he had a genuine love, which preserved his vigilance and watchful respect. Thus they break- fasted in peace and comfort, and were as happy as Englishmen usually are under such favourable conditions. The young man upon whom the waiter kept a watchful eye, and who sat with his back to the window overlooking the entrance to the station, was a tall, well- made fellow of twenty-four or five years, grey-eyed, fair-haired, open and pleasantly frank of countenance, not remarkable in any particular fashion, but simply a type of thousands of his countrymen. His bronzed face, strong and well-knit frame, clear gaze and general air of vigorous health seemed to indicate a life spent in the open air, amongst fields and woods, rather than on the pavements of a town. N0 observant person, in short, could have taken him for anything else than a young countryman of means and position. His grey tweed suit and stoutly - shod boots were distinctly IO NAPTHALI HOPPS reminiscent of the country; the horse-shoe pin carelessly thrust into his white neck- cloth seemed to suggest horses, dogs, and the usual appanage of a rural establishment. Interrogated as to this young man’s name and history, the highly-respectable head waiter might have informed you that he was Mr Leonard Charlesworth, the owner of a handsome estate in Lincolnshire, Master of the Danesford Foxhounds, a magistrate, and altogether an exceptionally fortunate individual. If he had been inclined to be more than usually confidential, he might further have mentioned that Mr Charles- worth was particularly fond of country life and of Danesford Manor, that he rarely came up to town, and that when he did so he invariably occupied his present quarters. Mr Charlesworth’s companion was neither tall, handsome, nor bucolic in appearance. He was young and short and fat. His round, clean-shaven face was almost boyish in its youthful freshness, and the monocle screwed into its right eye gave it an air of amusing imperturbability. I! THE INVESTIGATORS Meeting him in the street you would have said to yourself that there was a man who went through life smiling. Nevertheless, if you had looked closer you would have decided that the smile was a shrewd one, and that the youthful face had a very knowing expression stamped upon its every line. You might have been puzzled to give a name to the man’s profession, calling and station. He was well and irreproachably attired in a quiet way, and the easy fit of his tweed garments showed that he studied comfort together with appearance. He, too, wore a white neckcloth and a horse- shoe pin, but it was obviously impossible to connect him with either dogs, horses or country life. He might have been a judicial humourist but for his youth, or an actor but for his eminently prosperous appearance. Whatever he was, according to the head waiter, who had never seen him before, and wondered as to his exact position in the world, there was no denying the fact that he was a very pleasant-faced gentleman and extremely witty. “This,” said the fat man, helping him- 12 NAPTHALI HOPPS self liberally to artistically-carved slices from a tempting York ham, “this is dis- tinctly enjoyable. I have eaten cold boiled ham in almost every city in the world, but somehow it never seems quite so good as it does at home. Perhaps that is because English air gives one a keener appetite. Although I have only been in England twenty-four hours, I have de- veloped an enormous capacity for food. It must be the air.” “Wait till you get down to Danesford,” said Leonard Charlesworth. “We can give you some really fresh air there. This isn’t air—it’s smoke.” “ I don’t know,” said the other, dubiously. “I always think the air is pretty fresh in London. I’m not a countryman, you know. Don’t be surprised if I find the Lincolnshire swamps and flats rather oppressive.” “ There’s as much undulating country in Lincolnshire as in most other English counties,” answered Leonard. “Really? I thought you had nothing but meres and fogs and swamps and dikes down there. But, then 13 THE INVESTIGATORS of course, I know so little of my native land. London, Paris, Chicago, Calcutta—I know them all, but I don’t know Bullock- smithy.” “What a queer chap you are!” said Leonard. “ Am I ? But, my dear fellow, what can you expect of a man whose name is Napthali Hopps? Dear me, what a really awful thing it is that fathers and mothers should be able to blight a man’s existence by giving him outrageous names I” “I don’t think,” said Leonard, “that your existence is much blighted.” “That depends. Look at it from my standpoint. My father began life as a navvy, or something of that sort. He made money — awfully curious phrase that is, by-the-bye. He became a railway king. Before he became a railway king I appeared on the scene. He named me Napthali. Horrible fate to go through life behind such abarbarous name! I endured agonies because of it both at Rugby and at Cambridge. When I came to man’s estate I looked things in the face. I 14 NAPTHALI HOPPS decided that almost everything was closed to me. The Church—you couldn’t very well make an archbishop of a man who signs himself Napthali Hopps. Napthali Cantuar—Napthali Ebor—they don’t sound well, do they? The Bar—now, if I had gone to the Bar I should in time have been advanced to the Bench. Of course, they would have wished to make a knight of me. Sir Napthali Hopps—0h, it’s too dreadful. Just the same with everything—my name closes every avenue. Even marriage.” “Why marriage '5 ” “My dear fellow, just imagine the feel- ings of a girl who is asked to become Mrs Napthali Hopps! If it had been Norman, or Nicholas, or Nugent, now—but Napthali! No—my name hangs about me like a mill- stone, and pulls me down to the under- current. You have no idea of my woes. I dare not go into society—simply dare not. Fancy a fellow bawling out, ‘Mr N apthali Hopps.’ And ‘ Mr N. Hopps ’ looks foolish and leads to questions. ‘I have been wondering what your name is, Mr Hopps. I am sure it must be Norman.’ Then 15 THE INVESTIGATORS you’ve got to say, ‘No, ma’am, it's plain Napthali.’ You see how I am to be pitied." “I daresay there are at least thirty millions of people in these islands who would cheerfully change places with you,” said Leonard. “That shows how remarkably twisted things are. But, seriously, my dear fellow, what can a man do with a name like mine? It’s all very well for you, you know; you spring from a good old family, you’re a lord of the soil and all that—no end of a swell altogether. But who and what am I? A millionaire ? Oh, that doesn’t count at all. There are almost as many millionaires as paupers nowadays. In fact, it’s become a fixed law: the more paupers the more millionaires—the more millionaires the more paupers. Both of ’em to be pitied. Really, though, to be a millionaire and a nobody, and to be called Napthali Hopps is simply a succession of untoward events against which no man can stand. That’s why I thought things over and decided upon a career of my own.” 16 NAPTHALI HOPPS “That’s something new, isn’t it?” said Leonard. “When I last saw you, two years ago, you hadn't got any career in prospect, had you ?” “No—I had not. I evolved the notion out in China. I said to myself, I must have something to do. I can’t marry, I can’t become a public character, but I’ve got brains and energy—don’t smile—and I must have an outlet for both. So I thought and worried, and lay awake three nights, and at last I had a happy notion. Ide- cided to be an expert.” ’ “ What in? Handwriting '.1 " ' ‘ “Don’t be frivolous. Can you imagine me sitting down to examine the caligraphic performances of forgers and the twice- crossed letters of young women in love? No —-I am an expert in character. Seriously, I have had notions of taking rooms in London, and putting up a brass plate on the door— ‘ N. Hopps, Specialist and Expert. Anybody’s character diagnosed, and — if necessary — exposed. Terms moderate.’ ” Leonard laughed. B 17 THE INVES'I‘IGATORS “What a queer chap you are, Hopps,” said he. “No, but I’m serious. And I’m more than serious—I’m a success. I’ve been diagnosing character for over a year now, and I flatter myself that my methods are really successful. I had no end of fun coming back from Egypt the other day. I've got a book somewhere, in which I wrote down all my impressions and conclusions as to the characters and peculiarities of my fellow-travellers. Some day I shall develop the thing into an exact science, and write a monograph on it." “But what good will it do ? ” “My dear chap, what a question '4 You might as well ask what good does anything do. Just imagine the use I might be to somebody or other—yourself, for instance —in unravelling a mystery, or in letting you into the true character of some person whom you had reason to suspect. Suppose, for example, that you are a merchant, and some man whom you don’t know wants to establish business connections with you. Under the present commercial system I 18 NAPTHALI HOPPS believe you would go to an inquiry office and find out if the man was to be trusted. Well, you know, I think that’s nasty—you ought not to go asking questions about another fellow, ought you? But, then, you’ve got to find out all about the man somehow, haven't you? Well, you come to me. You say, ‘ I want to know everything about Jones—is he honest, straight; will he be able to meet his obligations? and so on.’ Then I set to work. I cultivate the acquaintance of Jones. I sit next him at church or theatre, and I study his physiog— nomy. That done I report to you. Doesn’t that promise exceeding well I " Leonard laughed again. He was just a bit puzzled by his old friend’s chatter. Nobody knew when Hopps was jesting or not. So he mildly remarked, for the third time, that Hopps was a queer chap, and that it was time they walked across to the train, to both of which propositions the self- constituted expert assented. As they stood in the ticket-office, Leonard touched his companion’s arm. “ Here’s a chance for you,” said he. “A 19 THE INVESTIGATORS neighbour of mine is just booking. He will go down by our train. I’ll introduce him —-and if you can read his character, why, I’ll believe there’s something in it. Come along—~we’ll catch him on the platform.” 20 O H A P T E R I I DR WILLIAMS AND HIS NIECE NAPTHALI HOPPS, following his friend’s glance, saw a tall man, dressed in pro- fessional-looking black, disappear through the door which gave access to the platform. He had only just time to take in a rapid survey of ' the vanishing figure from the rear, but he immediately made up his mind on one point. “Your friend is a medical man,” said he, turning to Leonard. “Quite true—he is. I suppose he looks like one too. That doesn’t do you much credit, Hopps. I shall want some more convincing proof of your powers than that, if I am to believe in them." “ Oh,” answered Hopps, “that was easy. Anybody could tell the man is a doctor. 21 THE INVESTIGATORS You can tell some men by a mere glance at the parting of their hair. But come along and introduce me to this man. I am dying to exercise my talents." When they reached the platform, how- ever, the tall figure had disappeared. There was still a brief interval before the departure of the train, and they turned to the bookstall and bought such newspapers as seemed likely to afford them sufficient amusement for a two hours’ journey. As they stood there the man of whom they had just been speaking came up hurriedly. He recognised Leonard and nodded. “ Good-morning, squire,” said he. " Are you going down by this train ? ” Leonard replied in the affirmative. “I saw you outside,” said he, “ and tried to catch you, but you hurried away and disappeared.” “Yes, I am not alone. I have my niece with me. I am taking her to Danesford. Perhaps you will give us your company? ” Leonard looked at Hopps. The fat man was gazing benignantly upon the doctor. His eyeglass was the very realisation of 22 THE IN VESTIGATORS ling with a young lady, niece, sister or cousin. Leonard wondered how he came to have a niece. He had looked upon Williams as a sort of hermit—a man utterly relation- less, given up to science and reflection. It was a surprise to find him in female society. Leonard sat down and looked at Miss Burton with something of curiosity. Meanwhile Dr Williams and Mr Hopps settled them- selves comfortably in opposite corners and studied each other. “How wonderful it is,” thought Hopps, “that people sort themselves so readily! Here are four of us. I’ve never seen Williams or his niece before. They’ve never seen me. The young lady has never seen Leonard. Three of us, then, are total strangers, and all four are partial strangers. Yet we instinctively sort ourselves. Leonard sits down by the girl—that’s because they’re both young. Williams prepares to talk to me—that’s because we’re both—shall I say clever? The arrangement is good in any case. I daren’t talk to young ladies— simply daren’t. That’s because of my un- fortunate name. Therefore I must turn 24 DR WILLIAMS AND HIS NIECE my attention to Williams. Now for him.” Hopps proceeded to examine the doctor’s outward appearance with much care. He saw a tall, broad-shouldered man, whose age might be anything between forty and fifty. He saw a massive head, a clean- shaven, inscrutable face, eyes deeply set under a square forehead, and a mouth and chin indicative, if features can be indicative, of firmness, resolution and an iron will. Evidently Dr Williams was not an ordinary man, and, recognising this, Hopps proceeded to study him more care- fully. Nothing in his own countenance expressed his interest. To all outward appearance he was a round-faced, good- tempered creature, at peace with himself and the world, and only lazily inclined to take a bland interest in anything. If Hopps found the doctor interesting, Leonard found the doctor’s niece very pleasant to look upon. She was young— he decided that she could scarcely be more than eighteen or nineteen—and she was pretty, with something more than mere / 25 THE INVESTIGATORS surface prettiness. Leonard was not skilled in analysing young ladies’ looks, and after he had gazed at Agatha Burton for a moment he knew no more than that she had frank, smiling eyes, which seemed at one minute to be grey and at another blue; that her features, if not faultlessly regular, were daintily attractive; and that her complexion was delicate and fair as the petals of a monthly rose. He noticed the glint of her hair, clustering in tiny curls above her forehead, and he had a dim notion that her _ ears were small and beautifully shaped. Beyond all that he recognised, more from instinct than observation, that the doctor’s niece was a young lady of decided character and originality—there was an alert movement of eyes and month which assured him of that. “My niece,” said Dr Williams, with- drawing his gaze from the bland countenance of Hopps and fixing it on Leonard, “is seeing England for the first time for some years. She is returning home from a French school. I am rather afraid that 26 DR WILLIAMS AND HIS NIECE she will be disappointed with Lincoln- shire.” “ I hope not,” said Leonard. “I am quite sure not,” said the doctor’s niece. “ Do you know, Mr Charlesworth, I shall simply love to spend a summer in England. I have been looking forward with such pleasure to this visit. You know I have read so much about Lincolnshire— history, and. Kingsley’s Herewa/rd, and all that, you know—and I am dying to see it. Isn’t it all fens and meres, and dear old manor houses with moats round them, and herons standing on one leg, and that sort of thing? Oh, I know I shall have a delightful time—don’t say I shall not, Uncle Henry, because I have made up my mind that I shall!” “I suppose that’s how girls take it nowadays,” said Mr Hopps to himself. “ I must study this type. Still school-girlish, and a little bit inclined to gush—but what a fresh, delightful voice she has." “ I’m afraid you are doomed to disappoint- ment in certain respects,” said Leonard, smiling. “Lincolnshire is not all meres 27 THE INVESTIGATORS and fens, and I don’t think there are many moated granges in our neighbourhood. However, we’ve got a moat round Danesford Manor House, and I shall be delighted to show it to you.” “Thanks, so much, Mr Charlesworth— I’m sure it will be delightful. You know my uncle has been entertaining me all the way from Paris with a description of Danesford. It was most melancholy, really, but I simply wouldn’t believe it, you know. You can’t expect a girl to look at things as a middle-aged bachelor gentleman looks at them, can you?” “I’m afraid, my dear, that you don’t realise how very dull and dismal the establishment of a middle-aged bachelor gentleman is,” said Dr Williams. “Oh, but I shall change all that, my dear uncle. You will please to understand that I am going to reform you altogether. I shall make everything nice and sweet and lovely, and you will have to do as I tell you in everything. What’s the good of being young if one can’t make other people feel young too? Don’t you think so, Mr 28 DR WILLIAMS AND HIS NIECE Charlesworth? Oh, that’s right—you and I will be such friends, won’t we? Do you hunt and shoot, and play cricket, and all that sort of thing'.Z Oh, do tell me about it—you have no idea of how simply horrid it is to live in France, where they can’t play any decent outdoor game. Do you know, I don’t think Frenchmen have any more muscle than a frog. And now do tell me about hunting and shooting—I’m dying to hear about anything English.” Leonard laughed, and began to talk about the Danesford hounds. It was a subject dear to his heart, and he presently waxed enthusiastic over a description of a brilliant run which took dogs and horses twenty miles across country. Dr Williams and Hopps listened for a moment, and then with a mutual impulse they turned their backs on the two younger folks and began to talk science—the doctor suggesting some topic from a casual glance at the Times, lying on his knee. The time passed rapidly to Leonard, and he was suddenly surprised to find the train rolling into Grantham. He said to himself 29 THE INVESTIGATORS that he had never enjoyed a railway journey more—the girl’s fresh, sweet voice, her na'i've, original comments and remarks had interested and amused him. He stood staring after the doctor’s brougham as it drove away. Napthali Hopps tapped him on the shoulder. “My dear fellow,” said he, “ you’re dog- cart waits patiently. Do we stay here or do we go forward? ” “Oh—get in,” said Leonard. “We’ve six miles before us. I say, what did you think of Williams? ” “What did you think of Williams’s niece?” “Oh, I don’t know. Rather a nice girl, don’t you think? Awfully dull it will be for her at Danesford.” “ My dear chap, even an English village can’t be dull to a released school-girl. But is Williams such a hermit?” “A regular hermit. He has lived in Danesford, in a queer, rambling, old place called The Bower, for several years—twenty, I should think. He practises very little. I believe he has very considerable private 3O THE INVESTIGATORS “But an eminently respectable practi- tioner!” “Pooh! That’smere detail. Itell you, Charlesworth, that man is a criminal; he has a secret crime on his mind now; and I’ll pledge my skill and knowledge of human character on what I say. Yes ; Dr Williams is decidedly an interesting case. I must see more of him.” 32 CHAPTER III THE BOWER DR WILLIAMS, driving homewards in blissful unconsciousness of Mr Napthali Hopps’s criticisms and conclusions, looked at his young charge, and wondered what he should do with her. She had been his charge for something like fifteen years— always, in fact, since his only sister Alice Burton and her husband had died far away in India, leaving their only child to Henry Williams’s care. Until recently, however, the trust had been a light one. Agatha had so far spent her time in various scholastic establishmentstfirst in London, then in a French convent, and her guardian had seen little of her for several years. This arrangement had suited him admir- ably. He felt himself bound to see that his dead sister’s child was well cared for C. 33 THE INVESTIGATORS and happy, but he would have objected strongly to take any active part in devising or superintending whatever arrangements were necessary for either object. Therefore he had contented him- self with occasionally visiting his niece, satisfying himself that she was quite satisfied with her surroundings, and paying Whatever bills were incurred on her behalf. To this Agatha had assented readily enough. As a child she was somewhat afraid of her uncle, whose stern, ascetic countenance and severely professional air rather awed than attracted her. Growing towards womanhood she lost some of this feeling; but, as she had no special affection for Dr Williams, she felt it no hardship to be constantly separated from him. She had a large circle of acquaintances amongst her school-fellows, and for several years had been in the habit of spending her holidays with one or other of them. Thus she had seen no little of the world, and was quite as familiar with Henley and with Brighton as with the white-capped Sisters to whom her education ihad lately been intrusted. 34 THE BOWER Now that Agatha was nearly twenty years of age, however, Dr Williams felt it necessary that she should come home to Danesford. It was obviously impossible to keep her at school any longer, and equally impossible that she should spend all her time in visiting. Some definite and fixed headquarters she must have, and where should they be but in her uncle’s house? Glancing at her from behind his newspaper, Dr Williams wondered how this unavoidable arrangement would work. He was a lonely and retiring man, and there were reasons why his solitude must never be disturbed. Certainly there was room enough in The Bower for himself and half- a-dozen young ladies. He saw no reason why he should not make Agatha comfort- able there without destroying his own comfort. “Besides,” said he to himself, as he reflected upon these matters, “she is sure to marry before long. She is so bright and lively and pretty, that some man is sure to fall in love with her and marry her. She will no doubt visit a good deal, 35 THE INVESTIGATORS and her girl friends will have brothers and cousins, and ere long I shall have to consider a proposal on her behalf. And even when she is at home she will not interfere with me.” And then the brougham drove into the grounds of The Bower and stopped at the door, and Dr Williams got down and form- ally welcomed his niece to her new home. “I am afraid you will find The Bower a very dreary and dismal place, my dear,” he said with a touch of regret in his voice. “ But, you see, it suits me so well that I have acquired a sort of affection for it, and I should not like to leave it, even for a more desirable residence.” “But why should you think of such a thing?” asked Agatha, looking about her. “Why, Ithink it is delightful! Such a dear old place, and such fine trees. And your garden—why, Uncle Henry, the whole place is lovely!” “ Wait till you'see it in winter,” said the doctor. “Fog and snow and rain make a vast difl'erence. The place looks at its best just now." £56 THE INVESTIGATORS Dr Williams led the way into the house. In the wide entrance-hall stood a tall, somewhat determined-looking woman, very well dressed in black, who saluted the doctor respectfully, and glanced curiously at his companion. “Good-morning, Mrs Hargreaves,” said Dr Williams. “ Here is my niece, you see, at last. Agatha, this is my housekeeper, Mrs Hargreaves. I suppose Miss Burton’s rooms have been prepared ?” “They are quite ready, sir,” answered the woman, with a formal curtesy to Agatha. “Then we will show her the way,” said the doctor. Mrs Hargreaves produced a key from a bunch hanging at her waist, and preceded them up the staircase and along a corridor. “She reminds me of a gaoler,” thought Agatha; “and why on earth does she carry the key of my room on that great bunch ? ” “ I have had two or three rooms specially prepared for you, my dear,” said Dr Williams, as they followed the housekeeper. 38 THE BOWER “Of course, the whole house is open to you, but I thought that you would like to have a corner of your own.” Mrs Hargreaves stopped before a door at the end of the corridor. She was about to insert the key in the lock when the doctor took it from her and prepared to open the door himself. “Thank you, Mrs Hargreaves,” he said. “I will show Miss Burton the rooms, and perhaps you will be good enough to send _ up her luggage. I think the spring-cart followed us pretty closely.” The housekeeper bowed and withdrew. “ I don’t like that woman,” said Agatha to herself. “She watches me as if I were a natural history specimen.” “There,” said the doctor, opening the door. “ This is the entrance to your own domain, Agatha. This, you see, is your sitting-room; beyond that is a bedroom, dressing-room and bathroom, and there is also a room for your maid.” Agatha was enchanted. She darted to the window and looked out. The room faced the south, and the windows afforded 39 THE INVESTIGATORS a prospect which was just then nothing short of beautiful. Before the house lay a velvet_like stretch of lawn, with here and there a gay-coloured parterre of flowers. A magnificent copper beech stood in one corner, and beyond the dank fence, which terminated the lawn, stretched a wide park, bounded in the distance by thick woods. Dr Williams stood by Agatha’s side and looked out. “That is Danesford Park, Mr Charles- worth’s property,” he said. “The Manor House, his residence, is farther to the left. The cattle you see there are part of his famous breed of shorthorns.” “Oh!” said Agatha; “it is too lovely. You don’t know how much I like it. I shall simply love to sit in this window and look out. And this room—what a sweet, cosy little nest. Uncle Henry, you are really too good. I must kiss you, oh, I must indeed I There -—- one — two— three kisses! Now, do let me see all the rest of this domain of mine.” Agatha flew through the other rooms, and the doctor, slowly following her, heard 40 THE BOWER her exclamations of delight with something of a smile. He had never been accustomed to the society of young people, and his niece amused and interested him more than he had thought possible. “Everything is perfect,” said Agatha, flying back into the sitting-room, “you have thought of everything. Piano— bookcases—pictures— work-table—however did you think of all these things?” “I’m afraid Mrs Hargreaves did most of the thinking, my dear,” answered the doctor. “An old dry-as-dust fellow like me can’t be expected to understand all these things, you know.” “Never mind—the suggestion came from you, of course. Really, it is too good and kind. Now you shall see what a model young woman I am, and now and then, when you are very good, you shall come up here and have tea, and I will play to you. Oh, do let me try the piano!” “What a chatterbox she is!” thought the doctor, as Agatha rattled over the keys. “And what a dull house for her to come into!” 41 THE INVESTIGATORS “It’s beautiful,” said Agatha. “I mean to practise two hours a day. Oh, I shall become quite a prodigy. 1—” A tap at the door interrupted her. “Come in,” said the doctor. A young woman, remarkably pretty and eminently rustic, appeared. “This is your maid, Agatha,” said Dr Williams. “Patty, this is your young mistress, Miss Burton.” Miss Agatha laughed and nodded to Patty, who stared at her open-eyed. “ How do you do, Patty ? ” she said. “ I do hope you’ll like rue—I’m sure I shall like you tremendously. But, oh, Uncle Henry, just fancy giving me a maid! I sha’n’t know what to do with her—simply I sha’n’t. You’ll have to teach your mistress her duties, Patty—you will, really. But, then, I do learn things very quickly. Now, what shall we do first ? ” “Unpack your boxes, I should say,” remarked the doctor. “And after that Patty will show you the way to the dining- room, where you will find me ready for luncheon.” For the next hour Agatha busied herself 42 THE INVESTIGATORS and so I instructed Mrs Hargreaves to engage Patty. Remember that she is to be your own servant, and that she will take all her instructions from you.” “Do you know, Uncle Henry, that makes me feel so important! I’m afraid you’re going to spoil me terribly. Ishall have my brain turned with so much kindness. Fancy a poor little school-girl having her own rooms and her own maid, and being her own mistress,” and Agatha laughed merrily. Mrs Hargreaves, passing the dining-room, heard, and looked grimmer than ever. “It’s a long time since anybody laughed in this house,” she said to herself. 44 C H A P T E R I V THE BEGINNING OF A MYSTERY IT seemed to Dr Williams that he could not do better after luncheon than show his ’ niece the rest of the house and grounds. These matters once explained to her, she would be free to go here and there accord- ing to her own liking, and there would be no need to trouble him with questions. The meal over, therefore, he explained his views to Agatha. For an hour he was at her service, and would act as guide and cicerone to whatever she wished to see. “That,” said Agatha, z‘ will be delightful. I do so long to explore that dear old garden. But are you quite sure, my dear uncle, that you can waste so much time? Won’t your patients be wanting you, poor dear things? I always understood that 45 THE INVESTIGATORS medical men are, oh, so frightfully busy— never a moment to spare for anything, you know." “I believe that is the case with some of us,” answered Dr Williams, “ but I may as well tell you that I practise very little. I have a few patients here and there, but they give me little trouble. There is a youthful medical practitioner in the village who attends to the old women’s aches and pains. I fancy he has little to do—this is a healthy place, except for the ague, which comes periodically with the mists and fogs. But, at anyrate, he leaves me free to devote myself to my experiments and researches.” “I love experiments,” said Agatha, as they went into the hall. “ We used to do them at school. You put all sorts of funny little powders into dear little glass tubes, don’t you, and warm them over a spirit lamp, and they turn into gases and things, and if you don’t mind you blow yourself up, don’t you?” “I’m afraid I have scarcely arrived at that stage,” said the doctor, laughing. 46 THE BEGINNING OF A MYSTERY “And my experiments are of a slightly different nature. And now let us look round this gloomy house of mine.” Agatha, following the doctor from room to room, was bound to confess that the epithet was tolerably well deserved. Everything was solid, heavy, and sober of hue and aspect. The rooms looked as if nobody lived in them. There were no evidences of life anywhere. The drawing- room was a positive vault, the dining and breakfast rooms were wildernesses of mahogany and Brussels carpet, and in all these there was nothing out of place. It seemed as though somebody had originally mapped out the entire house on strictly mathematical lines, placing every chair and table on exact spots, from which nothing had been allowed to remove them. Agatha began to grow restless as she looked about her. The formal, precise air irritated her. She longed to upset chairs and tables, rearrange pictures, and generally remodel the whole establishment. “I suppose the whole place sadly needs a woman’s taste and energy,” said Dr 47 THE INVESTIGATORS Williams, with something like a sigh. “Mrs Hargreaves’s notions are somewhat old fashioned. However, I seldom look into any room in the house except the dining-room. I spend most of my time in this room—my study.” Agatha noticed that the approach to Dr Williams’s own regions was very carefully guarded. First came a heavy oak door opening from the hall, then a green baize one, and after that a third door giving access to the study. “It is necessary that I should enjoy perfect quiet,” explained the doctor, noticing Agatha’s astonishment. “When these doors are closed I cannot hear a sound from other quarters of the house. And, now, how do you like my sanctum?” Agatha looked about her in astonishment. She stood in a large room literally lined with books. A huge desk in the centre was covered with papers ; a table under the window held a heterogeneous collection of instruments, jars, bottles and scientific apparatus. Through an open door she saw a further apartment, evidently used as 48 THE BEGINNING OF A MYSTERY a laboratory. She peeped into this with a sort of awe-struck curiosity. “What a tremendously clever-looking place!” she said. “And do you really sit here with all these skulls and bones and skeletons for company? And what are those strange objects in the jars and bottles? It looks like a witches’ den. Why don’t you hang up a horse-shoe over the door and a snake’s skin. above the fireplace?” “Then you wouldn’t like to spend your time in these rooms ? ” said the doctor. “To be candid, my dear uncle, I must say that I don’t think I should. In half an hour I should get simply creepy. I should expect those dry bones to live and talk. Do you ever sit here at night—I mean quite late at night? ” “ I often sit here the whole night through, my dear.” “How dreadful! And don’t you see things—I mean awful horrible things? Oh, just imagine being here with all those fearful objects at midnight—your nerves must be made of iron. I should simply scream if I were you.” D 49 THE INVESTIGATORS The doctor laughed and said nothing. He went across to his desk, and stood there as if in deep thought, while Agatha explored the room, looking at the instruments, read- ing the titles of the books, and generally investigating things in her own way. “Agatha,” said Dr Williams, suddenly, “there is another inmate of my house whom you have not seen, and to whom I think I had better introduce you. I have an old friend living with me. He has been my constant companion for nearly twenty years. He is an invalid—almost always ill — and I have to take great care of him.” “How very good and kind of you I” said Agatha. “Would you care to see him?” asked the doctor. “He is not particularly well to-day, but it might do him good to see a young face. I am afraid things are very gloomy in this house.” “Oh, do let me see him, please,” said Agatha. “I am quite fond of visiting sick people. Dr Michot used to say I did his patients more good than all his medicine.” 50 THE INVESTIGATORS speak of my niece, Agatha Burton—poor Alice’s daughter. Here she is—come to ask how you are. Agatha, this gentleman is Mr Charles Ashley.” Agatha put her hand within the sick man’s wasted fingers. He held it for a moment and looked earnestly in her face. “Yes, yes,” he said. “ Yes, I see it very well. You’ll see it too, Henry—the likeness to her mother. Yes, it’s very clear. Sit down, my dear; sit down. I’m glad to see you—yes, very glad. I knew your mother a long time ago. We were friends—great friends. You’ve got her eyes and her mouth. Poor Alice! She was such a bright, lively girl—always laughing and talking. Do you remember, Henry? ” “ Yes, I remember,” said Dr Williams. He stood near the window, watching the wan, worn face and the bright, healthy one so close to it. Agatha had taken a seat at the sick man’s side and was watching him with pitying eyes. “How nice,” she said, “that you should know my mother, Mr Ashley. You and I will talk about her, won’t we? And I dare- 52 THE BEGINNING OF A MYSTERY say you can tell me much that I don’t know, because I was so little when she died. I scarcely remember her.” “Alice’s voice,” said the sick man; “I remember it clearly. It seems like old times. Such a clear, fresh voice she always had; and she used to go about the house singing and laughing all day long.” “ You must have known her well,” said Agatha, “to remember her so clearly.” “Yes, yes; I knew her well, my dear. I’ve a good memory ; very good, indeed.” “Have you been long ill?” asked Agatha. “ Oh, a long time—a long, weary time.” He shook his head despondently, and his white, wasted fingers tapped impatiently 0n the arms of his chair. “You must let me come and see you every day,” said Agatha, “and I will read to you—I’m very fond of reading aloud—- and, perhaps, we might walk in the gardens.” “No, no, I never go out!” said Mr Ashley, somewhat impatiently. “I don’t go out at all, do I, Henry? But come— 53 THE INVESTIGATORS yes, come and read to me this evening, my dear. It’s very good of you. I’m a poor, broken-down old man; but we’ll talk about your mother—and—yes, come when- ever Henry will let you.” Agatha went out with Dr Williams into the grounds, feeling intense pity for the unfortunate gentleman she had just seen. She was about to question her uncle con- cerning him when the gardener approached holding a note in his hand. “ Beg your pardon, sir,” said the gardener. “ But this letter, sir—a man handed it over the wall to me a little while ago and said would I give it to you, sir.” “Did you know the man '2 ” asked Dr Williams, taking the note. “ No, sir, a stranger he was to me.” The doctor turned the note over, put it in his pocket and continued his tour of inspection round the gardens. After a time he excused himself, and left his niece to her own devices. Agatha amused her- self with ease. She made friends with the gardener and the coachman, and both sub- sequently declared her to be “the haffa- 54 THE BEGINNING OF A MYSTERY blest young lady they had ever set eyes upon.” After a somewhat gloomy dinner with the doctor, Agatha went to Mr Ashley’s room to read to him. She found, however, that the invalid preferred to talk, and she sat listening to his reminiscences of her mother until the shadows began to fall on the lawn outside. Suddenly Mr Ashley half started from his chair, which faced the Window. He pointed towards the lawn, and a look of terrible fear came over his white face. “There—there!” he cried. “A man watching us from the shrubbery. There—— now he’s gone." Dr Williams entered just then. He sent Agatha away, and set himself to calm his invalid friend. Agatha, somewhat mystified, went to her own room, and amused. herself with her new piano. When she got tired of that she turned to the window and sat there looking out upon the park, where the shadows were slowly lengthening between the trees. She thought over the events of the day. She decided that Mr Leonard 55 THE INVESTIGATORS Charlesworth was very nice, that his friend looked amusing, that her uncle had shown himself very considerate in all his arrange- ments respecting herself, and that her new surroundings were very pleasant. She further made up her mind that she did not like Mrs Hargreaves, that she very much pitied Mr Ashley, and that Patty was delightful. At the thought of Patty she rang her bell, and spent an hour in cross-questioning her maid as to the village of Danesford and its inhabitants. At the end of that time she knew the names of nearly every person in the place and a good deal of their history. She learned that Patty had a sweetheart and that his name was Joe Giles. He was a journey- man carpenter, and hoped ere long to lead Patty to the Hymeneal altar. Agatha thought that would be delightful, and promised to attend the ceremony. The moonlight was flooding Agatha’s room when she retired. She told Patty not to light the candles for a while, and stood at the window looking out at the brilliant scene beneath. The moon’s clear 56 THE BEGINNING OF A MYSTERY beams threw sharp outlines of high trees and bushes across the lawn—far away in the woods a nightingale was singing de- lightfully. “ How beautiful it all is ! ” she said. “ I think Danesford is a simply lovely place, Patty. To-morrow -— oh, Patty, look there! Isn’t that a man standing on the edge of the lawn? There, near the yew tree?” Patty advanced to the window and looked forth. “Yes, miss,” said Patty, “it’s a man. There—now, he’s gone.” “What a strange thing!” said Agatha. “Mr Ashley saw a man watching the house when I was talking to him. How mysteri- ous! Do light the candles, Patty. I love a mystery above everything—butI don’t like it in the darkness, it makes one feel so creepy. Patty, be sure to leave the door of your room open. I shall simply scream with terror if I wake in the night and think of that man staring at the house. Do you think he was a burglar?” 57 THE INVESTIGATORS Patty hardly knew what to think. She drew the blinds and lighted the candles, and shut out both moonlight and mystery, and presently Agatha forgot the somewhat startling events of the evening. ~rm- 7' r 7M». 58 THE INVESTIGATORS He drew out the sheet of common whitey- brown notepaper and spread it out on the desk before him. Then his face suddenly changed its expression, and he sat silently staring at the two or three lines traced shakin across the page. This is what Dr Williams read as he sat there :— “Feeling it necessary to have an inter- view with you, I make bold to say that I shall be at the spot where you met me last time, at eleven o’clock to-morrow morning. Don’t fail to come—important business.— “J. D.” The doctor perused this communication more than once. He took up the sheet of paper by one corner and turned it over as if expecting to find further news on the other side. Then he walked across to the fireplace and dropped the sheet and envelope into the empty grate, afterwards applying a lighted match to both, and watching them until they were entirely consumed. That done he turned away with an imperturbable 60 OVERHEARD IN THE SPINNEY countenance and gave his attention to a certain experiment which he had interrupted a week previously in order to meet Agatha in Paris. When he entered Mr Ashley’s room that evening and found the sick man nervously agitated with respect to the face which he had, seen looking into the window from the shrubbery, Dr Williams was momentarily annoyed. He sent Agatha away as quickly as possible, and hastened to draw the curtains with his own hands. Then he mixed a soothing draft and administered it to Mr Ashley. “Don’t allow yourself to be agitated. Charles,” he said. “I am afraid the events of to-day have been too much for you. Agatha’s coming has excited you,has it not?” “ No—no,” answered the invalid, queru- lously. “ No—the girl has done me good. But I saw him, Henry—I tell you I saw him distinctly. He stood there in the shrubbery, gazing at my window.” “Who stood in the shrubbery?” “There is only one man whose face could frighten me. You know whom I 61 THE INVESTIGATORS mean. There—I am always afraid. Look how my hand trembles.” “I think it is imagination,” said the doctor. “I’ll send Robert to you—and after a while, when you are ready for bed, you shall have a sleeping draught.” “ Yes—yes,” said the other ; “ yes—make me sleep, Henry, make me sleep! I forget everything when Isleep—everything. Oh, God, why was I born to bear this burden ? ” He dropped his head on his hands and slowly rocked himself to and fro. The doctor looked at him curiously, paused a moment, and left the room, saying that he would send the attendant. “This must be stopped,” he said as he went back to his study. “ That man must not come here again. Of course, it was his face that Charles saw. He was watching the house. I must stop it. But how?” Then he put the matter away from him, and turned to his work with the zest of a student who has been kept away from his favourite pursuit for a whole week. On the following morning Mr Napthali Hopps, strolling about Danesford Park in 62 OVERHEARD IN THE SPINNEY an aimless fashion, was lured into the Three Elms Spinney by a particularly fine spray of honeysuckle. Hopps was fond of flowers, and it was characteristic of him that he preferred those which grew wild to those which are only produced at immense cost. He made his way through a gap in the hedge into the Spinney, and admired the beautiful yellow cluster with deep admiration. “ That’s just as fine as the finest orchid that ever was grown,” mused Mr Hopps. “ If it was as scarce as orchids are it would mean money. But being what it is, it’s valueless. If I were a poet I would write an ode to it. Being a plain man, I will leave it to blush unseen.” It was very warm in the park. Mr Hopps reflected that Leonard was busy with his steward and had no time to talk to him. He found the Spinney cool, fragrant and inviting, and he seated himself on a fallen tree and took out his cigarette-case. As was his habit when alone, he began to meditate. “ That was a nice, bright, lively girl that we saw yesterday,” he said to himself. 63 THE INVESTIGATORS “I wonder how she is getting along with her uncle—the gentleman with the strongly- marked countenance, as Miss La Creevy would have said. Also I wonder what that man’s secret is? He’s got one. I’ll lay a thousand to one he’s got one. That is, I would if I were a betting man—- ‘which,’ to use an expressive Cockneyism. ‘I ain’t.’ Of course, we’ve all got our little secrets, but this chap has a big one. What is it—what’s it about? What— hallo, who’s that?” From the spot where Mr Hopps sat he was able to command a view of that portion of the park which lay immediately in front of The Bower. His exclamation was evoked by the fact that Dr Williams was making his way to the Spinney. Clad in a grey suit, and wearing a straw hat, he looked a severely-respectable gentleman out for a summer morning stroll. He carried a book in his hand and occasionally glanced at it. “He’s heading this way,” said Hopps. “Perhaps he’s got a lot of silver buried here and is coming to see if it’s all right. Supposel retire and watch the proceedings. 64 OVERHEARD IN THE SPINNEY I’m really not up to conversation this morning.” Mr Hopps rose and retired further into the thick undergrowth which obscured the Spinney. He leaned against a tree and peered through the interlacing branches before him. He dropped his cigarette to the earth, and carefully extinguished it with his stick. “What a remarkably smart detective I should have made,” he said to himself. “Now a common person of no ideas would have gone on smoking that cigarette, and then this fellow, if he comes into the Spinney, would have smelled the smoke and the game would have been up. And he is coming in here too.” Dr Williams entered the Spinney and walked into the little clearing where lay the fallen tree on which Hopps had rested a few minutes previously. He sat down there and looked at his watch. When he noticed that, Hopps decided that something was about to transpire. Some minutes passed away before any- thing happened. Then a loud crackling of E 65 THE INVESTIGATORS branches announced the approach of a new- comer. Presently a man came out of the bushes and approached Dr \Villiams. The doctor rose and looked steadily at him as he drew near. Hopps, peeping through the leafy branches, regarded the two men with interest. The newcomer was a stout, thick-set fellow, who might have been anything in a respectable line of life before he took to the habit which was now show- ing its traces in his face. Hopps set him down as having been a small tradesman, and wondered what he and Dr Williams were meeting in this way for. That it was a preconcerted meeting he felt sure. The doctor spoke first. “Well,” he said sternly, “what does this mean? Last time we met, three years ago, I thought I gave you to understand that it was for the last time.” “I’m sorry, sir,” answered the man. “But I wanted to see you in person. I daren’t write.” “ Well, what do you want '5 ” “Money,” said the man, with a sudden 66 OVERHEARD IN THE SPINNEY fierceness. “I want money. I’ve heard of a good thing in Australia, and I want to go there. Find me the money to go with and you’ll never hear of me again. That’ll be something, won’t it? For, mind you, doctor, I’m not up to keeping secrets as I once was. I—well there, I’ve drunk a good deal of late, and when a man’s in liquor he isn’t careful.” Dr »Williams looked steadily at the speaker. “I must think it over,” he said. “Come to my house to—night at nine o’clock. Of course no one knows that you have come down here to see me? Take care no one does know. To-night—at nine o’clock— and till then keep your tongue quiet.” With that he turned away and went out of the Spinney and across the park towards The Bower. The man waited a moment, and then went off in the direction from which he had come. Mr Hopps came out of his hiding-place. . “Dear me!” he said. “Dear me—how exceedingly interesting I ” 67 ACCIDENT—DESIGN—MURDER—WHICH ? with you? I haven’t said anything up to now, because I wanted to see how far your very amusing madness would carry you, but really I feel compelled at last to ask— What’s troubling you? Do you know how you have occupied yourself this last quarter of an hour?” Mr Hopps turned from the table to his friend, and looked upon him through his eyeglass with an air of surprised apology. “Haven’t the very faintest notion, old chap,” said he. “Nothing very serious, I hope.” “All depends upon what you call serious,” said Leonard. “If I were you I should have my head examined. You must be going to have softening of the brain or something equally horrible. My dear fellow, do you know that the last six or seven times you have gone on you have played with my ball, mixed white and red alike, and still continued playing, that you have scored my points to yourself 69 THE INVESTIGATORS \ and your own to me, that you have twice mistaken the red ball for your own, and generally made an ass of yourself? Again I ask you—What is the matter?” Mr Hopps laid aside his cue and seated himself in an easy-chair with a long sigh of relief. “I’m awfully sorry, old fellow,” said he. “But it’s a judgment on me for trying to do two things at a time. Can’t be done, can it? Never could make out how these circus fellows can ride two horses at once or keep half a dozen knives spinning. I couldn’t—and I can’t play billiards and think about something else. Can you?” “Never tried,” answered Leonard. “I don’t care for mental gymnastics.” “That’s very smart,” said Hopps. “Very. I didn’t think it of you, Leonard. No—mental gymnastics are bad, decidedly bad. In future I shall discontinue them.” “What’s the matter?” asked Leonard, for the third time. .1 70 ACCIDENT—DESIGN—-—MURDER—WHICHP “The matter? Eh? Nothing, my dear fellow, simply nothing.” “Hopps,” said Leonard, “don’t you dare to trifle with me. I’m a magistrate, and I’ll have you clapped into a straight- waistcoat if you don’t immediately tell me what it is you are thinking of.” “My dear worshipful Justice Shallow, I think of many things. First of all, I think I shall refill my pipe; secondly, that I shall have some more soda and whisky; thirdly, that—” “We are alone,” said Leonard, “and my strength is like the strength of the fellow in the poem -— equal to the strength of ten. You are thinking of —you have been thinking of—-” “Of Williams,” said Mr Hopps, suddenly growing serious; “of Williams.” “And what of him?” “That,” answered Hopps, “is 'a hard question. Frankly, I can’t tell you.” “Do you mean to say that you have been following up the train of ridiculous thought which you started yesterday, after riding in a train with him for a couple of hours?” 71 THE INVESTIGATORS “ Yes, I do mean to say that, or rather I didn’t mean to say it, but I will say it if you like.” “ I’m sorry for you, old chap,” said Leonard. “ It must be softening of the brain. What a pity ! ” “ What’s a pity? ” “ That you should delude yourself in that foolish manner. But, really, you don’t mean to tell me that you believe Williams to be what you pronounced him to be yesterday?” “ As I said before,” answered Mr Hopps, “ I didn’t mean to tell you that or anything else.” “But do you think it?” “Yes, I do; so there you are.” “I wish you’d see a doctor, Hopps. You’re a monomaniac. And pray what has made you think about Dr Williams all day ? ” “My dear chap, all this is beyond you. Have I not said that I am a specialist, an expert? Let me put my brain through its proper exercises. I am just now trying to make out why one and two make three. When I have resolved that important question to my entire satisfaction you shall .._._‘__Q_/— 72 ACCIDENT—DESIGN—MURDER—WHICHP know. Remember—‘ there are more things in heaven ’—” ' “Oh, stop that!” said Leonard. “Let’s go to bed.” Mr Hopps was entirely free of his pre- occupation when he appeared at the break- fast table next morning. Leonard greeted him with an inquiry as to the condition of his latest craze. “Got it all thought out during the night, I suppose? ” said he. “ What’s the result ? Is the subject, our highly respectable neigh- bour, a thief, or a murderer, or what? Has he poisoned his Wife or slain his footman in the cellar?” Mr Hopps devoted himself to his egg, and looked reproachfully across the table at his host. He was about to speak when a servant entered somewhat hurriedly. He was plainly excited. “What’s the matter, Smith? ” asked Leonard. “ If you please, sir, Chapman, the police- man, is outside, and wishes to see you immediately. It’s very particular, he says, sir.” 73 THE INVESTIGATORS “ Send him here,” said Leonard. “ Some- body’s fowls stolen, I expect, or a tramp caught sleeping in a stackyard.” “Leonard,” said Mr Hopps, “ I’ll lay you twenty to one that the policeman wants to see you in connection with Williams.” “Dear me, Hopps—you’ve got Williams on the brain! What nonsense!” “Is it done? ” asked Mr Hopps. “ Done? Certainly, if you like to throw your money away. I’ll give your twenty pounds to the village cricket club.” “ I’ll give your sovereign to the first old woman I meet,” said Mr Hopps. “Get it ready—here’s the policeman.” The man in blue came in almost breath- less. He had evidently been hurrying, and his round face was red with the exertion. Also he was bursting with news. “What’s the matter, Chapman? body’s stackyard on fire ? ” “ Begging your worship’s pardon—~no, sir. A strange man, sir, dead in Dr Williams’s study.” Leonard laid down his knife and fork, and looked wonderingly across the table Some- -sI—I 74 ACCIDENT—DESIGN—MURDER—WHICHP at Mr Hopps. The latter’s countenance assumed a blank and almost vacuous expression. He screwed his eyeglass a little tighter and gazed at the police- man. “ A strange man—dead in Dr Williams’s study ? ” said Leonard, recovering from his astonishment. “Do you mean to say that the man is lying there now—dead ? ” “No, your worship, no, sir. It’s like this here,” replied the constable, producing a huge red handkerchief and vigorously mopping his head and face. “I was fetched to Dr Williams’s house, sir, very early this morning, and shown the dead body of a man, which was laid on a sofa in the study. Dr Williams told me, sir, that the man had died in a fit during the night. He sent me off to the coroner, sir, and we’ve moved the body to the Danesford Arms, and there’s to be an inquest at twelve o’clock. Thought you ought to know, sir.” “Quite right,” said Leonard. “I’ll attend the inquest. Have you summoned the jurors?” 75 THE INVESTIGATORS “All but one or two, sir. I’m on my way now.” The policeman withdrew to complete his work, passing on his way through the kitchen region to tell his story to the housekeeper and butler over a glass of ale. There was a mystery in that story, and village folk love mystery. “I’ll trouble you for a sovereign, old chap,” remarked Mr Hopps, when he and Leonard were left alone. “Hopps,” said Leonard, “I can’t make this out.” “No?” said Mr Hopps. “No—really? Dear me, I thought rural magistrates were equal to anything.” “ Don’t be an idiot. What does it all mean?” “What do you mean? ” “Oh, hang it, you know what I mean well enough. It seems to me that I’m either dreaming or going mad.” “Softening of the brain, probably,”said Mr Hopps. “ Why don’t you see a doctor?” “Look here, Hopps, be serious if you can. What’s it all mean?” 76 ACCIDENT—DESIGN—MURDER—WHICH P “My dear Leonard, how on earth can I answer your exceedingly foolish question until I know what you mean ? ” “I mean—oh, hanged if I know what I do mean! Look here—last night we were talking about Williams. You talked a lot of what I then thought to be non- sense-” “Have you changed your opinion since?” “Never mind that. Anyhow, you took a dislike to Williams.” “Pardon me,” said Mr Hopps. “I did nothing of the sort.” “You didn’t like him.” “Again, pardon,” said Mr Hopps. “I like him much. I thought him a very interesting case.” “Hopps, you’re prevaricating. You said he was ‘a wrong un.’” “My dear old chap, it’s the wrong uns who are interesting. There’s nothing interesting in the right uns. They’re all alike—same type all the way through. Which do you prefer—a straight road or a crooked lane?” 77 THE INVESTIGATORS “ A straight road,” said Leonard. “Then I don’t. I like turnings and twistings and sharp corners.” “And you think Williams has some sharp corners, eh?” “If you like.” “But look here, Hopps, old chap,” said Leonard. “What made you so certain that the policeman was coming on business connected with Williams?” Mr Hopps helped himself to marmalade and gazed innocently at his host. “Shall I tell him?” he said to himself. “No—not now at anyrate. Oh, a mere guess,” he replied to Leonard. Leonard strolled out to the stables. Mr Hopps ate his marmalade, and thought. “It’s the man I saw yesterday,” he said to himself. “All alive then, and thinking of going to Australia. Now he’s dead— died suddenly in Williams’s study. Now, what was it—accident—design—murder— which ? ” 78 O H A P T E R V I I THE caownns’s ’ouss'r WHEN the young squire and his friend went down to the Danesford Arms at the hour fixed for holding the inquest they found a fairly large assemblage of villagers outside the door, eagerly expectant of whatever news was to be had. The coroner, a legal gentleman from Grantham, was dismounting from his horse as the two friends came up. He nodded carelessly to Leonard, and favoured Mr Hopps with a hard stare, wondering who he was. “It’s six years since you had a crowner’s ’quest at Danesford, squire,” said the coroner, as he shook hands with Leonard. “I remember the last occasion very clearly. Tom Sykesby—you remember Tom ?— fell off his horse and broke his neck. He was coming home from a day with the 79 THE INVESTIGATORS Blankney hounds. Well, what’s all this about?” “I know nothing of it,” answered Leonard. “Some fellow died in Dr Williams’s house during the night, eh ? Curious thing that, I think. However, let’s go in and clear it all up. Ah, there’s \Villiams coming down the road now.” Dr Williams approached the waiting group in his usual leisurely and dignified manner. Mr Hopps, looking at him in outwardly careless but really careful fashion, decided that there was nothing in his appearance to denote anxiety. The doctor was evidently as cool and collected as if nothing had happened. He shook hands with the three gentlemen, made some casual allusion to the matter which brought them together, and accompanied them into the inn. Mr Hopps decided that whatever mystery the doctor had locked up in his breast was in no immediate danger of being revealed. The scant accommodation of the Danes- ford Arms was taxed to the full. The 80 THE CROWNER’S ’QUEST farmers and labourers summoned to serve on the jury had all arrived, and were preparing themselves for their important duties by the consumption of much liquid refreshment. The farmers sat in the parlour and the labourers in the kitchen, and in both apartments the atmosphere was thick with tobacco smoke. Gin and water was being constantly carried to the parlour and mugs of ale to the kitchen. The labourers were all arrayed in their Sunday clothes, and each assumed a profound and solemn air befitting the occasion. As for the landlord, who stood in the passage, rubbing his hands with badly-suppressed glee, he blessed the lucky chance which had thrown so much business in his way. There was nothing like a crowner’s ’quest for bringing trade to the house. First of all, there was the ’quest itself with its fee, and there was the business brought by all who came to take part in it. That business would go on all the day; folks would come in purposely to hear what had gone on and to discuss the details. Secondly, for at least a week F 81 THE CROWNER’S ’QUEST house, gentlemen—and the body, sir, is in the coachhouse.” “Well, it’s twelve o’clock, and we’ll get to work,” said the coroner, leading the way to the old justice-room. “I’ve another in- quiry at three o’clock—case of drowning.” Within a few minutes of the court’s opening the room was filled to its full extent, and Mr Hopps feared lest someone should be suffocated. He bribed a stout labourer to go round and open all the windows, which proceeding was promptly followed by the appearance of heads and faces at every window-sill. “They’re going to view the body,” said Leonard. “Shall we go with them?” Mr Hopps had particular reasons for wishing to go. He wanted to see the dead man. He had no doubt whatever that he was the man whom he had seen in con- versation with Dr Williams the previous day; but it seemed to him well to assure himself on the point, and therefore he acquiesced in Leonard’s suggestion and followed the coroner and jury from the room. 83 THE INVESTIGATORS The dead man lay on a rough table in the coachhouse at the rear of the Danesford Arms. He had been tidin and decently laid out, and looked peaceful enough. There was small need to linger near him, and one glance at his quiet face assured Mr Hopps that he was the same person whom he had seen in conversa- tion with Dr Williams at the Spinney. The evidence given after the jury had returned to the justice-room was eagerly listened to by the crowd, which filled every corner and looked in at every window. Hopps made his way to an open casement and listened carefully while he drew in enough fresh air to live on. The gardener at The Bower said that on the previous day but one a man, whom he recognised as the deceased, approached him as he was working in a corner of the garden near the highway leading to Grantham, and asked him if the doctor was at home. He replied that his master was not at home, that he had gone away to London, but that 84 THE CROWNER’S ’QUEST he was expected to return that day. Thereupon the man handed him a letter, asking him to give it to the doc-tor on his return. He had advised the man to take the letter round to the kitchen entrance of The Bower, but the man had replied that he was in a hurry, and would be obliged if he, the gardener, would save him that trouble. He had accordingly taken the letter, and the man went along the road in the direction of Grantham. He had delivered the letter to the doctor later in the day. He was certain that the man who gave him the letter was the man now lying dead in the coachhouse. Lewis White, footman at The Bower, said that he remembered the man whose body he had just seen coming to The Bower on the previous evening. It would be about nine o’clock when he arrived. He said that Dr Williams had made an appointment with him for that hour. By the doctor’s orders he was taken to the study, where the doctor was then sitting. He saw nothing more of him 85 THE INVESTIGATORS until half-past twelve o’clock, when Dr Williams rang him up and informed him that the man was dead. The doctor said it was a fit—he thought an apoplectic fit. He helped the doctor to lay the body on a sofa, and early in the morning he fetched Dr Sanderson and informed the policeman of what had happened. He did this by his master’s directions. Mr Hopps thought that the evidence so far was interesting, but not exactly mysterious. Nevertheless, he made two mental points. One was—where did the man get to between handing the letter to the gardener and meeting Williams at the Spinney? the other—why did Williams let the man lie dead for several hours before informing the police and sending for Dr Sanderson? Dr Williams’s evidence followed that of the footman, and was listened to with nothing short of avidity. Everybody felt that the doctor was the only man who could solve whatever mystery there was in the case. And, because he looked so strong and self-possessed as he stood up 86 THE CROWNER’S ’QUEST to give his evidence, nobody—except Mr Hopps—was surprised to find that his statement very clearly explained the whole affair. The doctor said that the name of the deceased man was James Dickenson. He had at one time been in his—the doctor’s —service, and from time to time he had helped him with money, Dickenson for several years having been in straitened circumstances. Lately the deceased had taken to drinking—not heavily, but much more than was good for him. On the previous day but one he had received from his gardener a note written by the deceased, who requested an interview. It was in consequence of that interview that Dickenson had called upon him the previous evening. He came to inform him that he was anxious to emigrate to Australia, and to request pecuniary help. They discussed the project for some time, the doctor being anxious to know what the man’s intentions really were. Deceased was evidently in a bad state of health, caused by excess in drinking. He was 37 THEINVESHGATORS seized by apoplexy whilst sitting in the study at The Bower, and died almost immediately. It was not possible to do anything for him. The policeman said that he had been fetched to The Bower that morning, and had there seen and examined the body of the dead man. In the pockets he found thirteen shillings in silver and fourpence in copper, a pocket-knife and a piece of lead pencil. There were no papers. Dr Sanderson said that he had examined the dead man at Dr Williams's request. He had no doubt whatever that the man had died from an apoplectic seizure, and that death must have been almost instan- taneous. The coroner was of the opinion that the whole affair was a very simple one. They knew who the man was, how he , came by his death, and therefore they would return a verdict accordingly. He would like to say that Dr Williams, knowing the man to be practically friend- less, had offered to inter the body in Danesford churchyard at his own expense. 88 'l'! l it Hit iWN lili'l'i “M i ltN'!‘ With that run! the nheiilent jury's s'euliet, the evnwner'e ‘uueet emne tn en elul. “There we: preelnus little mystery ehnut it.” Nth! hennenl, ma he and iluppe walker! lunnewenl. Mi‘ iluppe euhl nnthlng. He thought a gum! ileel ehnnt the l‘uehlnn lu whluh nnrnnern' inquest: eve unuulueted in nut= el' the way illetrlete, and he mentally emphasised nevtelu pnlute whluh inn! hn- pveeeeil him while listening tn the evhlenee. “ it's queer." he filth! tn himself: "We Very queer. i don't like it one hit. Who was that man? What till! he knew? How was it he tilt"! at that purl-lenlev time in that nevtleulm' pleeei Alnl liili Wlilhune help him tn illei" ih) MISS PACKER FROM CHICAGO strong-minded you must be! I should have screamed.” “I have seen death too often to be afraid of it.” answered Dr Williams. “And sudden death is not always so dreadful as a slow and lingering death. But I am sorry, my dear, that your first days in this house should have been clouded over by such gloomy happenings as these.” “Nonsense, Uncle Henry! I’m not a poor, little, insignificant school-girl any longer, don’t you know? I’m a woman, and very strong-minded. And, now, I’m certain you have been bored to death by those nasty, unpleasant inquest people, and I insist upon your sitting down and letting me serve you with my own fair hands. I can’t call them little hands, because they’re so big, but fair hands sounds awfully poetical, doesn’t it?” The doctor laughed, and sat down to luncheon. He looked at Agatha wonder- ingly. He had analysed a good many specimens in his time, but he had never yet come across one of Agatha’s type, and she puzzled him. 9I THE INVESTIGATORS “It must, oh, it must!” said Agatha, suddenly, and as suddenly stopping. “What, my dear?” “My mouth’s full of chicken,” said Agatha, “and it’s rude to speak with your mouth full. There — now I can talk. What was I saying? I never remember what Ido say two seconds after I’ve said it; but, then, it’s awfully convenient, isn’t it, to forget things with such celerity? Oh, now I remember—it must have been the same man.” “ What must have been the same man ? ” “The man who died last night. He must have been the man who was watch- ing poor Mr Ashley and me from the shrubbery the other night.” ’ “Did you see a man watching you?” “No—I did not, but Mr Ashley did. It was quite dramatic, you know, Uncle Henry. Just like those plays in which the Villain sees something when it’s grow- ing dusk. ‘Oh,’ he cried, ‘the face—the face at the window! Them nose—that eyes—it is — it is me long-lost ber- uther-r.”’ 92 MISS PACKER FROM CHICAGO “Is that what Mr Ashley said ? ” “ N o, of course not. How silly! That’s what they say on the stage. When I was staying with the Wilson-Browns in London last year they took me—at least, Dick Wilson-Brown took me and Nora—to an East-End theatre. Oh, such fun! I screamed with laughter whenever the tragic bits came on. It was immensely good.” “And Mr Ashley?” “Oh, there I am—always digressing. Mr Ashley—yes—he simply cried out that he saw a man watching us from the shrubbery.” The doctor was silent for a while. “Mr Ashley is in a highly-nervous condition,” he said at last, “and I daresay he imagined he saw a man.” “Oh, but,” said Agatha, “I saw a man watching the house later in the evening. So did Patty.” The doctor looked at her inquiringly. “He stood near the yew tree, looking at the windows,” continued Agatha. “We saw him, oh, quite plainly.” 93 THE INVESTIGATORS “He must have been a poacher cross- ing the par ,” said the doctor. “The poor fellow who died last night had tramped some distance to see me. It could not have been he.” “ It was amoonlight night,” said Agatha, “and it looked quite poetical to see a man standing under one’s chamber window. He ought to have had long, dark, curl- ing hair and a melancholy eye, and a guitar or a mandoline, and he should have sung a canzonet or something equally absurd, all about sailing over the sea, and I ought to have been a captive maiden, imprisoned by a cruel parent. But in cold prose he was a poacher, and I am a young lady of well-regulated principles and hearty appetite. Do please give me some cold lamb—and lots of mint sauce.” The death of Dr Williams’s visitant was scarcely a nine - days’ wonder in Danesford. After the doctor’s lucid statement at the inquest, no one saw any mystery to wonder at, and with the burial of James Dickenson all interest in 94 MISS PACKER FROM CHICAGO the matter ceased. As for the inhabitants of The Bower, their concern in the affair seemed absolutely gone. Mr Ashley felt persuaded that his shattered nerves had led him to make a mistake with regard to the face in the shrubbery. Dr Williams never referred to the matter, and Agatha forgot all about it within twenty-four hours of the dead man’s burial. She had other and pleasanter things to think of. The news of her arrival having been noised abroad, people began to call at The Bower with the object of seeing the doctor’s niece. The vicar’s wife and daughters, Dr Sanderson’s sister, and two maiden ladies who worshipped Dr Williams from a distance, all called on one day, and went away feeling as if a whirlwind had suddenly caught them up, twisted them round and shaken them to pieces. Agatha was something new and unconventional, and the vicar’s daughters voted her delightful. They devised much tennis and afternoon tea, and for the next two or three weeks Agatha was fully occupied. Within a 95 THE INVESTIGATORS month of her arrival, she knew all the knowable families within a five-mile radius of Danesford, and had established herself, with no effort of her own, in every- body’s favour. She went everywhere, and was always breezy, full of life, and bent on extracting whatever pleasure there was to be found in the passing hour. And wherever she went, whether to tennis parties, flower shows or cricket matches, there also went Mr Leonard Charlesworth and his friend, Mr Napthali Hopps, and after a time the latter began to form certain conclusions as to the two young people who had talked hunting and cricket in one corner of the railway carriage while he and Dr Williams talked science in the other. It was the beginning of May when Agatha came to Danesford, and by the middle of June she felt as much at home there as if all her life had been passed in Lincolnshire. Dr Williams, taking a great liking to his niece, and having no one else in the world on whom to ex- pend whatever affection was in him, did 96 MISS PACKER FROM CHICAGO his best to ensure her happiness, and proved himself a model guardian. He was constantly thinking of some new way in which he could give Agatha pleasure, and the girl said to herself and to him that he was bidding fair to spoil her. “My dear,” said Dr Williams, as the two sat at breakfast one June morn- ing, “I am afraid you find The Bower dull.” “What a libel on The Bower! ” cried Agatha. “Dull! Why, my dear, my life has been one continual dissipation ever since I came here. I am out some- where every day.” “ But you are still a good deal at home,” said the doctor. “And there is no com- pany for you in the house.” “If you talk like that I shall come round and smother you with kisses,” said Agatha. “Don’t try to be dismal, Uncle Henry; you simply can’t do it.” “I have been thinking," said Dr Williams, having been duly smothered, “that there must be some friend whom G 97 THE INVESTIGATORS you could ask to stay with you. Some old schoolfellow, eh?” “ Oh, three cheers!” cried Agatha. “Uncle Henry, what a dear you are! Really, I must kiss you again. No, I won’t, though—my mouth’s all sticky with strawberry jam. Do you really mean it?” “Certainly,” said the doctor. “If there is any young lady whom you would like to have here, don’t hesitate to ask her.” “How delightful! I’ll ask Hermione Packer. She’s in London just now, and I daresay she’s tired of it.” “ And who is Miss Hermione Packer?" “Oh, she’s an old schoolfellow. I think she’s in the pig business.” “ The—what ? ” “Pigs—pork—something. Her father’s an American millionaire, a Chicago man. Oh, such a sweet, sweet creature—I mean Hermione. I’ll go write to her this moment,” said Agatha, flying out of the room. Miss Packer wrote back, and guessed She would come to Danesford right away. 98 MISS PACKER FROM CHICAGO She had seen enough of London for that journey, and was dying to embrace her dearest Agatha. Also a noble duke wanted to marry her, but she preferred something less mouldy. And she would be at Grantham at noon the next day. It chanced that Mr Hopps was in- vestigating human nature on the platform of Grantham Station when Agatha arrived there to welcome her friend. Agatha im— mediately appropriated him, and insisted that he should act as squire of dames, in consequence of which Mr Hopps presently found himself bowing low to a tall and very self -possessed young woman, who had dark hair and dark eyes, a piquant face, and perfect figure, and who was dressed in the height of fashion, and en- cumbered by as much luggage as would have served a dozen duchesses. Miss Packer likewise had a maid and a fat pug dog, and she left one in charge of her impediments and gave the other to Mr Hopps. “ If you carry him very carefully he won’t bite,” said Miss Packer, “but I 99 THE INVESTIGATORS daresay you’re used to it. An American, now, wouldn’t carry that dog, but an Englishman’s good for anything. Agatha Burton, you’re looking real lovely—I’m just dying to hug you!” Mr Hopps followed this brilliant vision with meek humility. “This is a new type,” said he to himself. “I almost fancy I shall find her rather interesting.” I00 CHAPTER IX A CORNER IN BRAINS MIss PACKER, who was thoroughly cos- mopolitan in disposition and taste, wasted no time in making herself at home at Danesford. Dr Williams, who had never previously met a young lady of her peculiar character, said to himself that he had never known a human being so entirely frank, so wholly simple, as his niece’s American friend. Within a few hours of her arrival she had given him her opinion as to himself and his sur- roundings with a plain-spoken frankness that was almost refreshing. “I think this place is real nice,” said Miss Packer. “Don’t know how it is, but there’s something about you English folks that we haven’t got. Our places [OI “* ‘ 1M ‘_m*fi—mi;:_~%‘ “ v A CORNER IN BRAINS world wanted to go along with her the world would have to_adopt its pace to hers. In this respect she was the exact opposite to Agatha, who lived in a perpetual whirl, and was never happy unless she was in action. To think, speak and move quickly and irresponsibly was as necessary to Agatha as sunshine is to the butterfly. She wanted to fly whenever the light breeze stirred her wings. Miss Packer, on the contrary, was determined to rest on a sun-flecked leaf and bask in the uninterrupted flow of light and warmth. Thus, some ten or twelve days after Mr Hopps had carried the pug dog in solemn state along the platform of Grantham Railway Station, a warm summer afternoon found Agatha and Hermione enjoying themselves after their separate fashions on the lawn of the Danesford Vicarage. Agatha and Leonard Charles- worth on one side of the net, and the vicar’s daughter and the curate on the other side, were playing tennis in that hard - working and conscientious fashion which is truly English. To all four the 103 THE INVESTIGATORS game was a serious business, and Miss Packer, seated in Sybaritic ease in a deep wicker chair beneath the shadow of a huge elm, watched them curiously, and wondered at their honest enthusiasm. “That’s too strange,” she remarked, glancing through half-closed, indolent eyes at Mr Hopps, who reclined in peace at her side; “I couldn’t go in for that.” “ For what ? ” said Hopps. “Tiring myself to death, burning my face to blisters, just to knock a ball back- wards and forwards over a net. Ilike to take my pleasure sitting.” “It’s much easier, isn’t it?” said Mr Hopps, meditatively. “I don’t care for jumping about a tennis court myself.” “Well, that’s natural,” answered Hermione. “You’re little and fat, and I guess jumping doesn’t come easy. Now, there’s Mr Charlesworth there—he’s all right, I do think. Just his forte, isn’t it? That sort of man always wants to be doing something. It’s tennis or cricket, or fox- hunting or shooting, all the time. But he’s not like you.” 104 A CORNER IN BRAINS “No-o,” asserted Mr Hopps. “I think not.” “What’s your particular amusement? Some men play poker and some drink whisky.” “Is that amusing? I’m afraid I’m not up to either—for amusement’s sake. I’m a good-for-nothing, Miss Packer—haven’t got any tastes or notions, or anything. Look upon me as a mere cumberer of the ground.” “I never look on people as they want to be looked on,” said Miss Packer. “Guess I can read ’em pretty well for myself.” “And I?” said Mr Hopps. “Am I an open page—in large type?” “You’re pretty ’cute,” answered Miss Packer. “You’re not right smart, but you’re not a fool.” “I’m thankful to hear it,” said Mr Hopps, with a sigh of relief. “I guess,” said Miss Packer, “ that your old man must have had a considerable deal of grit into him, and that you’ve got a bit of it. That’s how I got mine anyway. My father—he’s a real smart man, I assure 105 A CORNER IN BRAINS bit gone on each other—I think so any- way.” Mr Hopps made no reply. He continued to stare at Agatha and Leonard as if they were strange creatures whom he had never seen before. “Say,” remarked Miss Packer, after a while, “ what do you think of Dr Williams ? ” Mr Hopps turned his head slightly and gazed at his fair questioner wonderingly. “ That’s a strange question,” he said. “Is it? Maybe it is. It’s on a strange subject.” “Why a strange subject?” “Guess you know as well as I do. I’ve seen you watching him and wondering about him.” Mr Hopps thought for a few minutes be- fore he dared to reply to this remark. “I think Dr Williams is a very interest- ing man,” he said at length. “ Yes,” said Miss Packer. “He reminds me of a novel that gets more interesting as it goes on. Well, what are you studying him for? ” 107 \ ._\.--WM.-._ . -_..NW_~“ ..-....--~ -~ ~- w r J" “V THE INVESTIGATORS Mr Hopps felt cornered. “ It’s a habit I have,” he answered. “I’m making a system—studying character, don’t you know ?” “I do a good deal of that myself,” said Miss Packer. “Always did from birth. When- ever I see a person that I don’t know, I always wonder who he or she is, and what game she or he is playing. And now I’m wondering what little game Dr Williams is playing.” “Why should he play any game at all?” asked Mr Hopps. “ Well, that’s so; but the fact is that he’s up to something. I like the doctor ——he’s a real nice man, but he’s deep. Hopps, there’s a mystery in that house.” “ Eh ? ” said Mr Hopps, counterfeiting astonishment, and inwardly wondering how much Miss Packer knew. “A mystery !” “ Don’t pretend innocence—doesn’t suit you. I said a mystery. I’ve a long nose for mysteries. Now, it doesn’t matter to me what Dr Williams has in the shape of secrets—they ain’t my concern at all. But I love Agatha Burton—she’s my dear friend, and’s done me no end of good turns at 108 THE INVESTIGATORS Mr Ashley, in that house. He’s dying slowly, inch by inch—and he’s not dying from a legitimate cause.” “What?” said Hopps. “ You keep cool. I say he’s not dying as a man ought to die. There’s a mystery in him. He’s queer. I want to know who he is, and what that doctor has to do with him. Listen right here. Yesterday I was talking to that poor old man, and I said that The Bower was a nice place. He clutched my hand suddenly —- ‘ No! No !’ he said. ‘ No !—a house of death—a house of death ! ’ What did he mean ? ” Mr Hopps shivered. The phrase might mean much or nothing, but it was certainly unpleasant. “I’m not going to have Agatha in any house of death,” said Miss Packer. “Now then—what’s your story?” Mr 'Hopps told his story briefly. The chance which led him to overhear a con- versation between Dr Williams and James Dickenson—the sudden death of the latter —the details of the inquest—the discrep- ancies in the doctor’s evidence—he glanced 110 A CORNER IN BRAINS over these things and put Miss Packer in possession of all he knew. “Mr Hopps,” said she, when he had finished, “it’s queer, and I’m going to know what it all means—for Agatha’s sake. Shall I run the thing myself, or are you standing in with me ? ” “ I’m standing in with you,” answered Mr Hopps. Then came the four tennis devotees, hot, tired, and longing for rest and refreshment. “Hermione, how atrociously cool you look!” exclaimed Agatha. “And whatever have you and Mr Hopps talked of so earnestly ? ” “I guess,” said Miss Packer, languidly, “that Mr Hopps and I have been making a corner in brains.” “I ___-;r ..____ - ___ ._' .___ CHAPTER X THE BOSS-IN-CHIEF MIss PACKER and Mr Hopps having gone into partnership over the mystery of The Bower and its master were at no loss for subjects of conversation whenever they met, which was almost every day. Their opportunities for consultation were as frequent as they could possibly desire. If they were not on somebody's tennis lawn, they were on the cricket ground in front of Danesford Manor, and in either surrounding they were left to themselves. Hopps played no cricket and little tennis, and Hermione understood neither game. Thus Society, eager about somebody’s score or somebody else’s fine volleying, left these two alone, knowing quite well where to find them when it wanted them again. Both had a genius for hunting out the easiest chairs [[2 THE INVESTIGATORS Miss Packer, “since we last talked, and there’s a thing or two I’d like to say. Now, since we've gone into this business together, I guess we’ve both an equal right to consider ourselves bosses. We’re both managing partners. But there’s a notion strikes me. It’s just this—we’ve got to have a boss-in-chief. And that boss~in- chief’s got to be Me—just Me.” “It is because I am a business man,” answered Mr Hopps, “ that I make bold to inquire why You—just You ? ” “You’re right,” said Miss Packer. “I wouldn’t have thought so much of you as I do if you hadn’t made that inquiry. I haven’t any admiration for a man that lets himself be bossed until he knows why. Well, this is why—first, I ain’t no believer in democratic government. I believe in autocratic rule. The best way to run any- thing—a side-show, a government, or a dry goods store—is to find Oliver Crom- well or George W'ashington, and let him boss the whole thing. Eh?” “I believe there’s a great deal in that,” assented Mr Hopps. 114 THE BOSS-IN-CHIEF “That’s all right. Let’s proceed. Secondly, in this case, I’m Oliver—and likewise George. You’re clever, you’ve notions, you’ll do very well, but you must play second fiddle. I’m a woman; I can see through a wall where you can’t see through a window; I’m twice as naturally ’cute as you, and I’ve got a bit of devilry in me that’s wanting in you. You and me, working together, can do wonders in this or any other case, but Imust be the boss. Is it a bargain ? ” “ I believe you are right,” said Mr Hopps, thoughtfully. “Yes, it is a bargain. I swear allegiance.” “Guess we shall do very well now,” said Miss Packer, settling herself more comfortably in her chair, “and I’ll give you your instructions right off. First, you’re never to do anything without my orders, you’re to take my advice on whatever matter puzzles you, and you’re to act on my instructions even if I don’t choose to tell you why 1 issue them.” “I’m agreeable,” said Mr Hopps. 115 THE INVESTIGATORS “I believe you’re fully up to bossing the whole show.” “I am,” answered Miss Packer, with calm assurance, “and I’ll wind up the performance in big style—see if I don't. Now then, let's get to work. They’re all absorbed in those fellows in white, and we'll have half an hour to ourselves. Attention ! ” Miss Packer produced from her pocket a set of ivory tablets covered with certain hieroglyphic signs, at which Mr Hopps stared wonderingly. “ What’s that?” said he. “That’s shorthand," replied Miss Packer. “I learnt it ages ago, before the old man made his pile. Used to help him with his mail in those days, and this was useful. And I guess it will be useful now, because it’s a system of my own, and nobody but me can read it.” “You're a wonderful creature!” said Mr Hopps, admiringly. “I am proud to serve under such a chief.” “Let’s take all that for granted,” answered Miss Packer. “Listen to me 116 THE BOSS-IN-CHIEF while I give my notion of how matters stand at present. You and I for reasons known have an idea that in Dr Williams, or behind Dr Williams, or around Dr Williams, there is some mystery which we think it well to get solved and explained for Agatha Burton’s sake. Now, what do we go upon? The beginning of that mystery, so far as we are concerned, is on the day of Agatha Burton’s arrival at The Bower. A man, subsequently named as James Dickenson, hands to Williams’s gardener a note. Later in the day Agatha is introduced to Mr Ashley, a confirmed invalid, long a member of Williams’s household. While she is sitting with him he is frightened by seeing a man watching them from the shrubbery. That must have been James Dickenson. Later that evening Agatha and her maid see a man watching the house from the lawn. That must have been James Dickenson again. Next morning you, seated in the Spinney, overhear a conversation between Williams and 117 THE IN VESTIGATORS Dickenson, which gives you the idea that between those two men there is some important secret. That night Dickenson goes to see Williams at The Bower. What passes between them we don't know, but at midnight Dickenson is dead. Next day an inquest is held. Williams gives what seems to be plain evidence, and the jury return a verdict in accordance with it. Now then— what inference is there to be drawn from all this? I say, a very plain one. Between the man Dickenson, Dr Williams and Mr Ashley there was a secret. Ashley recognised Dickenson’s face amongst the trees in the garden— that was what frightened him. Dicken- son had some hold upon Williams—that was why he came for money, and why he had been coming for money all along. The problem is—what was the secret shared in by these three men?” Mr Hopps nodded admiringly. “You’ve put all that very clearly and very well,” said be. “But don’t you think that the first mystery which 118 THE BOSS-IN-CHIEF should be solved is this—What happened in Williams’s study on the night of Dickenson’s death?” “No,” said Miss Packer. “No; there you’re out of it. The thing to be solved is —— What was the secret, its origin and its nature? Find that out and the rest follows.” “In writing a poem or a novel,” said Mr Hopps, reflectively, “it is well to begin in the middle and work back. In criminal investigation, I suppose, you must begin at the beginning.” “That’s what we’re going to do,” re- plied Miss Paoker. “We’re going to find out, first of all, what were the relations between Williams, Dickenson and Ashley, and how they began. Now, what do you suggest?” Mr Hopps could suggest nothing. “There’s nothing to go upon,” said he, shaking his head. “We know no- thing of Williams or Ashley. Don’t even know where they came from before they came here. And that’s twenty years ago.” Ir 119 THE INVESTIGATORS “I said that I must be supreme boss of this show," remarked Miss Packer, “because I knew that I was ’cuter than you, and fuller of resource. Now, I made up my mind that we must go back a long way if we wished to solve this mystery, and I’ve been back.” “You've been?” “I’ve been. I wanted to know who Dr Williams and Mr Ashley were before they came here to Danesford. I got at Agatha on that point. She knew next to nothing. Dr Williams was her mother's brother—only brother, so far as she knew. She didn’t know where he lived or who he was before he came here. She had always understood that he was the only relation she had. No help there, I guess. So I had to turn in other directions. You see, Williams is rich and clever and well educated. He must have had a past which could be raked up again. The only thing was to find a clue. Well, I thought that over, and it hit me at last. Books!" “Books?” said Mr Hopps. “Books?” 120 THE INVESTIGATORS Miss Packer snapped her tablets to- gether and restored them to her pocket. “Now then,” she said, “your part comes in now. I’ll give you your in- structions. To-morrow morning, before ten o’clock, you’ll get a wire from London saying that you are wanted on urgent business. You’ll excuse yourself to Charlesworth, promising to return in a day or two. You’ll take train to Peterborough, and from Peterborough you’ll go across country to Chester, and thence to Bangor, and there in the ’cutest fashion possible to you you’ll find out what you can about Williams’s early days. This is Monday. On Wednesday evening you’ll write a full account of what you’ve done, and post it to me at The Bower. Here’s an easy cipher, which you can master as you go along. On Thursday morning you’ll ‘__have a wire from me telling you what to do next. That’s all, at present. And now get me some tea, my throat’s real dry with talking so much.” 122 THE BOSS-IN-CHIEF Mr Hopps, trotting obediently across the lawn to the tea table, came to the conclusion that he had at last met a character which baffled him. Miss Packer was utterly beyond his powers. 123 C H A P T E R X I MISS PACKER RECEIVES EVIDENCE ON the following Thursday morning Miss Packer sat in her own room at The Bower, and spread out a long communication from Mr Hopps on the desk before her. She had taken the precaution to lock her door before opening her correspondence, and once or twice Agatha came to it and demanded admittance. Miss Packer made sweet excuses and continued her task. With her business always came before pleasure, and her present business was pressing. Mr Hopps’s letter, written in cipher, was dated from the Castle Hotel, Bangor, and ran as follows :— “MY DEAR MISS PAOKER,—-N0thing but the genuine admiration which I feel for 124 MISS PACKER RECEIVES EVIDENCE your great abilities, coupled with my in- stinctive desire to get at a solution of the mystery with which we are concerning ourselves, would have induced me to tear myself away from Danesford at this moment and consent to be banished to these regions of wild Welshmen and wilder scenery. I have done my best to remain cheerful under depressing circumstances, but I long for the Lincolnshire flats and the Danesford tennis lawns, and I trust that you, the boss- in-chief, will recall me as early as possible. “I received a telegram on Tuesday morning, even as you said I should. I opened it at breakfast, and affected to be much surprised that anything should re- quire my personal attendance in town. He wished me—I am speaking of Leonard —to wire back and ask the fellows what they wanted me for, but I reminded him that it was only by strict attention to business that my father had been able to make me a millionaire, and that the least I could do to respect his memory was by following in his footsteps so far as business cares demand it. Leonard is a very 125 THE INVESTIGATORS thorough-going fellow; he applauded my sentiments, and insisted on driving me over to Grantham himself. He stuck to me until we reached the train, and there- fore I was obliged to buy a ticket for London. However, I got out at Peter- borough, and, after a long journey, during which I amused myself by learning and mastering this confounded and most ad- mirable cipher, I arrived at Bangor, dined on some excellent Welsh mutton, and spent the evening reflecting upon life and its changes. “It seemed to me advisable to assume the character of a young gentleman of leisure, travelling in Wales for nothing but his own amusement. I suppose that in my real character of private detective I ought to have assumed a dark, mysterious air. As a slight contrast, I endeavoured to be as gay as possible, and by breakfast- time this morning the whole staff of the hotel had come to look upon me as a light-hearted, affable young man with no guile in him. I asked no questions there —save as to distances, directions and antiquities. And yet for the life of me 126 MISS PACKER RECEIVES EVIDENCE I had no notion whatever as to how I should prosecute my inquiries, except by making friends with the landlord and questioning him artfully. You see, I am inexperienced in these matters, and my natural wit runs extremely slow. “I have always believed that lucky chance is worth a year of patient inquiry in cases of this description, and now 1am certain of it. This morning, strolling about the town, and wondering how on earth I was to begin the work which you imposed upon me, fortune favoured me, and gave me an opening which I was not slow to take advantage of. I had wandered into the precincts of the cathedral, and there found an ancient gentleman resting himself upon a tomb and drinking in the fresh air and sunlight with evident enjoyment. Him I joined, and did converse with. He saw that I was a stranger, and he took me into his confidence. Moreover, I was an Englishman, and so was he, which made him the more inclined to talk. “‘Man and boy,’ said he, ‘I’ve lived in this town two-and-forty years. It was 127 THE INVESTIGATORS business that brought me here and kept me here, and here I’ll stop and lay my old b0nes.’ “I ventured to remark that he must remember a good deal of the life of so small a town, and of the people in it, if he had lived there so long. “‘That’s right,’ he answered. ‘I’ve seen a deal, and a many changes there has been. Folks comes and goes, and they're forgotten, just as if they'd never been. Ay, we’re all passing away, and the changes one sees is wonderful. Now, there’s yon house at the corner. When I came to Bangor it were a fine place, and now it’s broken up into cottages. A very fine place it were. Williams, the lawyer, lived there.’ “I flatter: myself, dear boss, that not a muscle or a nerve of my stolid counten- ance betrayed to this garrulous old man the interest which I suddenly took in him. I produced, filled and lighted my pipe before I spoke again. Then I said, very carelessly,— " ‘And who was he?’ 128 MISS PACKER RECEIVES EVIDENCE “ ‘He were a very great body, were Lawyer Williams,’ said the old man. ‘Plenty 0’ money, he had. A tall, very fine-looking gentleman—always wore a blue coat and gilt buttons when he took his walks abroad. I can see him now stepping along the street with his fine shirt-frill and his gold-headed stick. Ah, dead and gone is he, and his house made into cottages, and his name forgotten.’ “‘Had he no children, then?’ I in- quired. “‘Oh, ah, yes, he had some children, but they don’t none of ’em live in these parts,’ answered my informant. ‘All cleared out, in that family, long enough ago. Naught’s left of ’em but the old ’torney’s grave-stone yonder.’ “He pointed to a solid-looking tomb at a little distance. Presently, when he had gone away, I strolled to this and examined it. It bore the name and dates of birth and death of Stephen Williams, solicitor, and of his wife Mary, but beyond that it afforded me no clue. “I walked up and down the streets awhile, I 129 THE INVESTIGATORS looking about me as a tourist should, and inwardly wondering what I should do next. I had made up my mind to make no direct inquiries of any person unless I was absolutely obliged to do so. So far I had found that the Williams family resided in Bangor some years ago, but I had come across no trace of Henry Williams, or of his sister Alice, your friend Agatha’s mother. My next problem was how to do this. I did not want to go to the authorities at the Friars’ School and say, ‘You had a boy Henry Williams here some years ago. I want to know what you can tell me of him and his family.’ That, I felt, would not commend itself to you as a plan of procedure. “Ideas, my dear Miss Packer, do not come to me very readily, but when they do come they are usually worth having. I got an idea at last—by chance, of course. Pausing to gaze in at a window of a book- seller’s shop, I caught sight of a row of yellow-backed novels. I have read a good many of these things in my time, and I suddenly remembered that the parish 13o MISS PACKER RECEIVES EVIDENCE registers invariably figure in cases where somebody wants either to discover the missing heir or to destroy the good young man’s chances. The parish register! The very thing, of course. I would find the clerk, make an exhaustive search, and see what I could discover. “I have spent four hours with the musty tomes in which the records of life and death are kept, and I have found out something. It may be of use, or it may be useless. I confess that I don’t see day- light through it. “Stephen Williams, solicitor, was born here, June 5, 1801, and died November 12, 1869. He married, May 7, 1842, Mary Pryce, who died January 6, 1865. They had three children: Henry, born April 5, 1843; Francis, born August 2, 1844; and Alice, born April 21, 1849. “I do not know whether you will find any clue in any of these dates. They suggest nothing to me, but your acute perception may help you to see something in them. “ It is now within a few minutes of post- 131 THE INVESTIGATORS time, and I must hurry. I shall stay here until I receive your promised telegram. Don't forget me. I am longing to see Danesford once more—Your faithful servant and friend, N. Horrs.” Miss Packer sat gazing at Mr Hopps’s letter long after she had come to the signature. Starting at last from a brown study, she looked at her watch and found that it was half-past nine o’clock. She relapsed into thought again. Agatha came knocking at the door. “Hermione l " said she, speaking through the keyhole, “do come out, there’s a darling old thing. Stubbs, the farmer, has got twelve little pigs all in one sty, and he wants us to see them. Come along, Hermione, I'm simply dying to see the poor dears." “Can't just yet,” said Miss Packer. “Go away.” “ I’ll kick the door in if you don’t come out, Hermione." “Go away!” reiterated Miss Packer. “I’m learning my French verbs.” 132 MISS PACKER RECEIVES EVIDENCE Agatha laughed. In the old school days that had been Miss Packer’s invariable excuse when she wanted to be free of all society. “All right, poor darling!” said Agatha. “But don’t be long, because Stubbs says the little pigs are divine.” Then she ran away, singing, and Miss Packer propped her chin with her hands, and looked at Mr Hopps’s letter again, and thought. Presently she took a pen and a sheet of paper, and drew out a genealogical chart, verifying the dates from Mr Hopps’s letter and from some memoranda on her tablets. Born Juneslifln; 12, 1870. arried Mary Pr ca). (M Had issuey I 1 Henry, b. Ap. 6, 1843. Francis, b. Aug. 2, 1844. Alice, b. Ap. 21, 1849. (was living 10 Welbeck Sh, (married Ga tain Burton London,1n 1870; came to 1868. Bot died June Danesford.187l; brought 1876, leaving one child, Agatha to Danesford,1891). Agatha). When Miss Packer had re-verified the dates in this table she tore Mr Hopps’s letter to shreds, and burnt them in the grate. That accomplished, she wrote out a telegram. I33 THE INVESTIGATORS “From Hermione Packer, The Bower, Danesford, to N. Hopps, Castle Hotel, Bangor. “Meet me under the clock at King’s Cross Station, Friday evening, at half-past six.” Then she went out and found Agatha, and they presently drove into Grantham, and Miss Packer went into the post-oflice and handed in the telegram herself. As for the genealogical chart and its memoranda, she trusted it to no lock or key, but kept it in safe quarters on her own fair person. m~~ *_,-_4 ’,-a-_______ A”... . . _,___. 134 -.~'~.c__\ 1‘ ._|“ ‘ _ is :V-- n -_~~ . -\--_~_~-.--__~ -_~/""_"*" "~--~ CHAPTER XII AN OLD DRAMA REPLAYED THE next day, about half-past four o’clock in the afternoon, Leonard Charlesworth, turning out of his park gates, caught sight of Agatha Burton, who was marching along the road in the direction of the Vicarage. Leonard hastened his steps and caught her up. Like himself, she carried a tennis racket, and when the young squire overtook her she was using it to lop off the heads of the daisies by the wayside. “Oh, Mr Charlesworth !” said Agatha. “ Good afternoon—but, really, I think you’d better walk on in front, or fall a yard or two to the rear. Do you know, I’m in such a wicked, bad, awfully awful temper! I want to kick, or scream, or hit somebody. Really I do.” I35 -.L _- MM \ ..._ :-_-n~ W- THE IN VESTIGATORS “ And the reason ? ” “Oh, Hermione’s the reason. Isn’t it too provoking ?—-enough to make a saint swear, I think. It’s toothache.” “ What’s toothache ? ” “Don’t pretend to be stupid, Mr Charles- worth; at least, not too stupid. You’re not good at acting—you simply can’t do it. It’s toothache that’s bothering Hermione.” “ Oh, Miss Packer is sufl’ering from toothache—I see,” said Leonard. “Do you? How clever of you! Poor dear Hermione—you know she came down to luncheon suffering agonies—quite dis- tracted, in fact. Then my uncle—another clever man—waded in—do excuse the slang, Mr Charlesworth—and there was the most awfully learned conversation about all sorts of things, opium, chloral, and oh, I don’t know what, and the doctor wanted to examine Miss Packer’s raging tooth, and Miss Packer said she wouldn’t hear of it, and I sat there eating my food, and oh, I did so pity Hermione, because she, you know, couldn’t eat anything, and that fat pug of hers whined terribly because he 136 J 4—-_,..- V a”... . ..,-_,. _ _ W-~‘“;P»M~M'\~._- _. v\P~l m -- w H AN OLD DRAMA REPLAYED \ didn’t get her bones. And now she’s gone." “ Who’s gone? ” “Oh, Mr Charlesworth, don't, don’t try to be stupid—or are you trying to be funny ? Don’t, please; it doesn’t suit you one little bit. And a magistrate, too! You ought to be severe and solemn and judicial. Who’s gone, indeed? Why, Hermione of course. Vowed and protested that she must go up to town and see her dentist, and so she’s driven over to Grantham to catch the four-forty, and I’m just mad.” “I’m sorry for Miss Packer," said Leonard. “And I’m sorry that you are so much concerned because of her absence. May I ask the reason of that concern ? " “No—it’s too much bother to give a reason for everything one thinks and feels. Besides, I’m not a well-regulated person at all—I’m just a bundle of whims and fancies, and likes and dislikes, and I’m not going to fall into anybody’s standard of measurement. And I’m vexed because I was going to have such a long, delightful, l37 “\ -"-—-\ .1.» ~--—»-._ due ~~- _' -'~- ~-\___ .—-\-_.‘-_..~_-_,.._-__ .mv'" “-’ *M\-_,V~M_- THE INVESTIGATORS dreamy sort of walk with Hermione to-night, and now we can’t go. You know the Dead Man’s Wood across the park ?-—we were going there. Oh, such a love of a stroll we were going to have, with our arms round each other’s waists, you know, schoolgirl fashion, and our heads close together, and we should have talked about all our old sweethearts, and we should have had a peep at the tree where they hung the dead man in chains, and, perhaps, the chains would have rattled, and then we should have screamed and run away. And we might have heard the nightingale—Farmer Stubbs’s boy told me this morning he had heard it there.” “But there’s no reason why Miss Packer’s absence should prevent you from going to Dead Man’s Wood.” “ Can’t go alone,” said Agatha. “There wouldn’t be any fun in it.” “I’m afraid I’m hardly up to Miss Packer,” said Leonard, reflectively; “ but, perhaps, under the circumstances, I might be permitted to fill her place.” “Oh!” said Agatha. “Mr Charles- 138 rm“,- ‘ “fl “4 fl .W-A»; - - '~ " Hm _ flux” .. M AN OLD DRAMA REPLAYED 4 "EM , .—-~--. __-~-..._.___. -_~~“—’\“_‘\__/--~m- ‘ worth, that would be delightful—I should simply love it. Do you really mean it— that you’ll sacrifice an hour or two to a poor, insignificant little mortal like myself? Oh, I’m quite glad that Hermione’s tooth was so bad. Won’t it be fun to tell her all about it when she comes back to-morrow? But then, what will my strict and proper and very solemn uncle say to me? Would it be very, very wicked if I didn’t tell him my business?” “How do you usually spend the even- ing at home?” “Oh, we dine at seven, and we talk very solemnly until eight, and then the doctor goes and hides himself in his study and pretends to be working very hard, but I suspect he’s having forty winks, and I trot round the garden and have a peep at the horses until dark, and then I go in and thump my un- fortunate piano till bedtime. And some- times I wander into the park, and moon about under the trees and get my feet wet, and wonder about all sorts of things.” “I think if you should wander into I39 THE IN VESTIGATORS the park to-night about eight o’clock, and accidentally meet me near the gate which leads to Dead’s Man’s Wood, it wouldn’t be very, very wicked," said Leonard. Agatha laughed. “What fun!” she said. “It’s like robbing an orchard, isn’t it? Did you ever rob orchards, Mr Charlesworth? No, of course—when you were a boy you were strict and proper, and never did anything naughty. And here we are, and there’s the curate looking so nice and clean, and I’m going to have him for my partner. Do you know, Mr Charles- worth, I’m falling in love with the curate —he’s such a nice, bland, soft-soapy manner, not one little bit like yours, and he talks to me in such a sweet fashion. I think it’s too bad to be so killing, isn’t it? But I suppose it’s his professional duty to charm, and so I must be a willing victim.” At eight o’clock that night Leonard leaned over the gate at the corner of Dead Man’s Wood, smoking his after- 140 AN OLD DRAMA REPLAYED dinner cigar, and wondering whether Agatha would come to meet him or not. He was somewhat impatient for the sight of her, though it was little more than an hour and a half since he had left her at the lodge gates on their way home from the Vicarage. Already his interest in the doctor’s pretty niece was deep enough to make him forget all other interests. She was so bright and gay, so full of life and spirit, so eager to get full measure from the cup of life’s in~ toxicating wine which Nature and youth held out to her, that Leenard felt him- self drawn to her by invisible bonds which he had no wish to break. What Miss Packer’s discerning eyes had seen signs of was indeed there—the young squire was in love. It was twenty minutes past eight when Agatha came running across the park and stopped, almost breathless, at the gate. Her eyes were dancing with fun, and an inclination to laugh was struggl- ing with an attempt to recover her breath. 141 THE INVESTIGATO RS “Little schoolgirls,” said Leonard, severely, “should be punctual.” “ Oh, Mr Charlesworth," panted Agatha, “don’t be cross, please. Oh, if you could have seen me running! I dared not run until I had got out of sight, you know —had to walk demurely and sedately until then. And then I ran. I wonder if you could run as fast. Some day I’ll race you. We’ll get up about five o’clock in the morning and run a hundred yards on the cricket ground. Oh! There, now, I’m all right again—got my breath back ——and let’s go into the wood. But we must keep to the path, because I’ve got my best dinner dress on—hadn’t time to change it——and if I tear it Patty will make no end of a row. How do you like it—don’t you think I look just too sweet? ” She made him a little curtsey as she came through the open gate, and swept the train of her gown about her with a. consequential air. Leonard laughed and bowed with mock veneration. “Miss Burton cannot fail to charm whoever—” he began. :42 AN OLD DRAMA REPLAYED “Oh, Mr Charlesworth, don’t try—you can’t do it,” laughed Agatha. “It’s so silly to see a man paying compliments. It reminds me of an elephant trying to dance. Besides, we’ve come out to be natural. Let’s pretend we’re quite little, tiny, wee children exploring the mighty forest. You take hold of my hand—there, now, we’ll start.” They went along the broad grass-path under the trees hand in hand, Agatha chattering away ceaselessly, and Leonard listening to her with silent amusement. He thought she looked very sweet and attractive in her simple dinner gown, and he remembered suddenly that he had dined alone that evening, and that his dinner had seemed lonely and dull. And he began to think that the Apostle spoke wisely when he said that it is not good for man to live alone, and that he felt strongly inclined to keep the little hand which just then lay trustingly within his own. “There’s the tree and the chains,” whispered Agatha. “They hung the 143 THE INVESTIGATORS dead man there, and sometimes his ghost comes back, and then the chains rattle, and the wind sobs and moans in the branches. Isn’t it creepy—and, oh, what’s that?” A nightingale lifted up its voice in a thicket across the wood and piped half-a- dozen notes of prodigal sweetness. Then, as all the other birds became silent, he sang carelessly and freely, pouring out his music with spendthrift extravagance. Agatha, still holding Leonard’s hand, stood and listened, gazing towards the thicket where the nightingale was hidden, but Leonard kept his eyes on Agatha’s face. Suddenly she turned and looked at him as if to see how he felt about the music. Their eyes met and remained gazing at each other for a moment. Then Agatha’s face, dreamy with the delight of the nightingale’s song and of the languor- ous summer night, turned rosy, and her eyes dropped, and Leonard, suddenly grown bold, leaned forward and kissed the half-parted lips. There had been no word spoken, but both felt the kiss to seal a life’s compact. I44 AN OLD DRAMA REPLAYED “Oh!” said Agatha, half an hour later. “We both ought to be whipped. How dare you, sir, make love to me in such audacious fashion? And what shall I say to my uncle when he hears of it'.Z And oh, won’t it be fun when Hermione comes back and I tell her all about it?” “No more flirtations with the curate," laughed Leonard. “Poor dear l—won’t he be in a sad way? I suppose he’ll go into a monas- tery and wear a hair shirt and mortify himself—all for the sake of poor little me. Oh, what a funny thing that a big, strong man—like you, my dear—should think so much of a little mite like me! But, then, I am just a little bit nice and rather attractive and all that, I think. And if you think so, I don’t care what anybody else thinks, and I’m going to be, oh, so good and proper and well- behaved.” K 145 CHAPTER XIII THE NEXT STEP MIss PACKER’S toothache, which continued to trouble her exceedingly until she had taken a temporary farewell of The Bower and its occupants, was marvellously cured by the time she reached Grantham. She boarded the London express in good health and spirits, and busied herself during her journey in thinking over the details of the conference which she was about to hold with her confederate. Now and then she referred to her tablets, and made an additional memorandum therein. It was not the Packer policy to do anything by halves, and Miss Packer believed in the Packer policy right through. Mr Hopps after a long and dusty 146 THE NEXT STEP journey, found himself at Euston shortly before half-past five o’clock. He was hot and tired, and wholly miserable, and he longed for clean linen and fresh garments. Remembering that he had an hour to spare, he called a cab and drove away to his own rooms in search of what he wanted. It was not often that he went there, for his last year or two had been spent abroad, and a good deal of his previous life in wandering here and there ; but he thought it well to have quarters of his own somewhere, and he retained an old servant and his wife to keep the place perpetually aired and ready for its owner. There was no saying, remarked Mr Hopps when he engaged these faithful domestics, as to when he might present himself. They were to be in a state of perpetual readiness for him. Being well paid for easy service, these expectant servants did their duty with honest zeal. Thus Mr Hopps, suddenly driving up when they believed him to be miles away, found himself received with no astonishment, and was thankful to find that his domestic l47 THE INVESTIGATORS machinery ran so smoothly. He enjoyed his bath and revelled in his fine linen, arrayed himself in a new suit of garments, and got into his cab and drove to King’s Cross to meet Miss Packer, keeping his appointment to the minute. Miss Packer’s train arriving to time, Mr Hopps was not kept waiting. At pre- cisely twenty-eight minutes to seven Miss Packer, very soberly attired in a Redfern gown, advanced from the arrival platform and gave him her hand with as much uneoncern as if they had parted but an hour before. “You’re looking pretty spry after your running about,” commented Miss Packer. “I rather expected that you’d be limp and broken—but you’re as slick as a new pm. ’ Mr Hopps explained that he had spent an hour in repairing the outer man, and hinted that he should now like to fortify the inner. “I guess I could do something of that sort myself,” said Miss Packer. “It’s a good while since I ate anything. I had 148 THE NEXT STEP to have toothache real bad this morning in order to have an excuse for hurrying away, and so, of course, I couldn’t eat any luncheon. You’d better take me some- where and give me some dinner.” Mr Hopps was delighted at the notion, but somewhat embarrassed at the same time. “Where shall we go?" he said doubt- fully. “I suppose our meeting is to be of the same nature as our secret——dark mysterious, and concealed from public knowledge ? ” “That’s so,” answered Miss Packer. “But I can’t help you there. If it was Paris I know lots of places where we could be as quiet as mice in a sugar barrel. What I want is this—first some dinner, then a quiet talk with you, and after that I’m going to the Langham to stay all night, and then I shall go back to Danesford early to-morrow morning. I promised Agatha I should be back by noon.” Mr Hopps cudgelled his brains and thought deeply. “I know,” said he, at last. “ We’ll dine .M_%_~'\ w “M‘ w M I49 THE INVESTIGATORS at the Midland Hotel close by—we shall not be recognised there, I think, and they’ll give us a decent feed—and then we’ll have a cab to Kensington Gardens, and we can stroll under the trees and talk all we want.” “ I’m in,” said Miss Packer. “Let’s start straight off. But no business, mind, till we’ve fed. Thinking on an empty stomach’s no good at all.” Mr Hopps was inclined to agree. He exerted himself to give his fellow-con- spirator a good dinner, and waxed eloquent and brilliant over the discomfort of railway travelling. Miss Packer, on her side, was inclined to make the most of this innocent adventure, and talked sparklingly, with the result that Mr Hopps was charmed, and declared to himself that the porkman’s daughter was an uncommonly smart and able young woman. He conducted Miss Packer from the hotel, and handed her into a cab as the golden sunset glow was fading across the great city. “Light your cigar,” said Miss Packer, as they drove along. “You’ll think all the 150 THE NEXT STEP better if you smoke, and I want you to think hard to-night. If I was quite certain that I shouldn’t be arrested and locked up, or something of that sort, I’d have a cigarette myself. I suppose it would hardly do, however, for a young woman to lean over the front of a hansom and defy British prejudice.” “I’m afraid it wouldn’t do at all,” answered Mr Hopps. “But you may adventure when we get under the trees. It’s nearly twilight now.” The twilight had settled down when they strolled into Kensington Gardens. There were few people about, and Miss Packer produced a cigarette-case, and lighted her cigarette from Mr Hopps’s cigar. “That’s better,” said she, puffing away with honest satisfaction. “Now give me your arm, and let us walk right across and back again. Well, you found nothing more? ” “ Nothing.” “You found quite plenty for our purpose. You did very well for a junior partner in the concern.” 151 THE INVESTIGATORS “ Thanks,” said Mr Hopps. “I was rather afraid that my discoveries were practically useless.” “That’s just what they are not. They’ll be very useful. We couldn’t have done anything without them.” “You see further than I,” said Mr Hopps, rather enviously. “I couldn’t see any- thing in what I got hold of. Where’s the point?” “The point’s in the man Francis Williams, born August 2, 1844,” an- swered Miss Packer. “Don’t see it,” said Mr Hopps, after meditating a while. “What has he to do with it? We don’t even know anything of him. At least, I don’t. I suppose, from what you say, that you do.” “Don’t know any more than you. But Ithink I see something. It’s mere guess- work so far, but I shall see more in time. Anyhow, the next thing we’ve got to do is to find out what became of Francis Williams. You see, there were three members of that family—Henry, Francis and Alice. Alice married Captain Burton, and they died 152 THE NEXT STEP years ago, leaving Agatha. Henry is Agatha’s guardian—we know something about him. But where’s Francis? Agatha knows nothing of him—she has more than once said to me that Dr Williams is the only relative she has or ever had since her father and mother died.” “ Then Francis is dead.” “That may be, but I want to know something about him. We must find that out—we must.” Mr Hopps walked on a few yards in silence, and meditated. Suddenly he came to a halt and faced Miss Packer. “My dear partner,” he said, “ I’m going to follow your lead in this, as I promised, but I want you to give me full con- fidence. You’ve got an idea. What is it ? ” Miss Packer shook the ash from her cigarette, and drew a mouthful of smoke from it before she answered. “ You’re right,” she said. “I have—and you shall know what it is. Ishould have told you before we parted. Since I received your letter yesterday morning I I53 THE INVESTIGATORS got a notion, which has grown stronger and stronger. It’s just an intuition—that’s what it is, Mr Hopps.” “ And it is—? ” “That the old man Ashley is Dr Williams’s brother Francis.” Mr Hopps resumed his walk. “What makes you think that?” he asked. “ More than one thing. First of all, the fact that Ashley saw a man watching him from the shrubbery, and was considerably startled by it, showed that he had some cause for fear. Secondly, that man died under very suspicious circumstances. Thirdly, Henry Williams was mixed up with that man Dickenson in some secret. Dickenson was the connecting link between Henry Williams and Ashley, or Ashley was the link between Henry Williams and Dickenson. Now, when I discovered and informed you of the existence of Francis Williams, I suddenly remembered some- thing. The first time I saw Ashley I was struck by the striking resemblance between him and Dr Williams. And 'so I suddenly 154 THE NEXT STEP jumped, woman-like, to the conclusion that Ashley is Henry Williams’s brother Francis.” “It may be so,” said Mr Hopps; “but what then '5 ” “How do I know what then? That’s what we’ve got to find out. We want to know these things now. What was the secret between Dr Williams and the man James Dickenson? Why was Ashley thrown into a state of terror when he saw Dickenson ? And who is Ashley, and what is his history ? ” “Three questions that are no end of a puzzle,” said Mr Hopps. “ We’ll do it,” said Miss Packer. “Now, listen to me. To-morrow find the cleverest private inquiry agent in London. Tell him to find out all he can about Dr Williams up to 1871, the year in which he left London. Also to supply us with such news as he can get hold of with respect to Francis Williams. Let him spend what he likes, but let him work quickly. We’ll go shares in the ex- pense, you and I.” “ With pleasure,” said Mr Hopps; “ but -~\_A~~~ w_.~..< I55 CHAPTER XIV DEVELOPMENTS HOPPS spent the evening in his own rooms thinking things over, and wondering what the outcome of the investigation to which he had pledged himself would be. When he had first gone into it he had not expected to find it such serious work. Looking upon most things with good-humoured cynicism he had half doubted his own first impressions of Dr Williams. He had considered it, as he remarked to Leonard, a case of Dr Fell over again. He had not liked Williams at first hand, but he did not know why. His chance overhearing of the conversation between Williams and Dickenson in the Spinney, and the evidence at the inquest, had first made him believe that there was something really serious in the matter. I57 THE INVESTIGATORS He was now bound to admit that the mystery was a real one, and that its un- folding might have serious effects upon the happiness and well-being of more than one person. “It’s no joke,” said Hopps to himself. “ Who on earth knows where we shall land ? It’s like sailing through a fog. Nobody knows what rock we may not strike. However, we’ve got to go through with it now. That American girl is in deadly earnest about it. She’s the sort of person that does everything thoroughly. She did right in taking the wheel of this ship. I should have run the whole thing to smash. Lucky if I don’t do it yet.” ' Next morning over his breakfast Hopps consulted the advertisements in the Times. He knew nothing about private inquiry agents or detectives, and was at a loss where to go. There were plenty of addresses given in the Times, and enough secrecy promised to stock a convent or a girl’s school, but Hopps could not make up his mind between them. He sipped his coffee reflectively, and thought hard. 158 DEVELOPMENTS “Hooray!” said he at last. “I knew it would come. Jefl'cott, of course! I’ll go see Jefl'cott. He’ll know where to send me.” Mr Jefi'cott was a brisk young junior who “ kept ” in the Temple. Hopps, staring about him in Brickeourt at half-past ten, espied Mr Jeffcott’s name on a door-post, and climbed the stairs leisurely. He said to himself as he went up that Miss Packer was giving him a good deal of hard work, and that if it went on much longer he would lose flesh and become a skeleton. Mr Jeffcott was in. He was writing for dear life when his clerk ushered Mr Hopps into his retreat, and his pen travelled to the end of a line before he lifted his head. Then he gave Mr Hopps a quick glance and sprang from his chair with a schoolboyish shout of welcome. “It’s Hopps!” exclaimed Mr Jefl'cott. “Napthali Hopps, by all that’s wonderful. My dear old chap, how are you? It’s ages since we met. Come to these arms, and—” “ Still young and foolish,” said Mr Hopps, I5'9 THE INVESTIGATORS shaking his friend’s hand and subsiding into a chair. “How are you, Jeficott? ” “Much as usual, my boy. Hard-worked, badly paid, over head and ears in love, and so on. Where have you been, Hopps ? ” “All over,” said Mr Hopps, shortly. “China, Timbuctoo, the North Pole and Lord knows where. Never mind that. J effcott, I’ve come here on business, and by George, jolly serious business too l I want you to recommend a private inquiry agent—— one of those fellows who can find out every- thing. You know the sort of chap who can find out what’s become of the needle your grandmother lost in the hay chamber eighty years ago.” “Certainly,” answered Mr J eficott. “Money no object, I suppose?” “Not the least,” said Mr Hopps. “ Lucky beggar you are, Napthali. Well, Isherwood’s your man.” “And who is Isherwood ? ” “ Isherwood’s a private inquiry agent. Clever man—natural aptitude—long ex- perience—can do wonders. You go to him. 160 DEVELOPMENTS ‘Mr Isherwood, I dined yesterday at Greenwich—whitebait—and so on. One of the bones on my plate was of curious forma- tion. Please to recover it.’ ‘ To—morrow it shall be handed to you,’ says Isherwood, and he makes good his word. Or, ‘Mr Isherwood, sixty years ago I had my hair out at the barber’s shop opposite the Pig and Whistle at Blackborough. Please to get me the hair which I then lost—my daughter wants it for a brooch.’ ‘Nothing so easy,’ says Isherwood, and gets it within twenty-four hours." “ Go to the devil for truth and to a lawyer for a lie,” said Mr Hopps. “Give me this chap’s address, J efi'cott. He seems likely to suit me.” “ What’s your business, Hoppy? ” asked Mr J efi'cott, writing down the address. “ Is it divorce, or lost bank-notes, or what? ” “Worse than either,” said Mr Hopps, folding the slip of paper into his waistcoat pocket. “Years ago I played marbles with another boy, and I had a glass alley with blue and green lines round it, and Ilost it to that other boy, and I want to know where it is, L 161 THE INVESTIGATORS because it was a present from my grand- mother. Good-bye, J efl'cott, old chap.” “Good-bye,” said Mr Jeffcott. “Don’t forget me when the briefs are drawn.” Mr Isherwood’s office was in a quiet court leading out of Fleet Street. Mr Hopps had to cool his heels for half an hour before being admitted to the presence, and he entered the great man’s room with some- thing of awe. Mr Isherwood, however, was not dreadful to look upon, neither did he bear any outward marks of superiorjability. He was, in fact, a stout, good-humoured- looking little gentleman, with smartly- trimmed whiskers and very bright eyes. He motioned Mr Hopps to a chair, and looked at him over his spectacles. “Mr Isherwood,” said Mr Hopps, “I want some business doing, and I don’t very well know how to do it. So I come to you. Money is no object. If you want a cheque you shall have it. Fill it up yourself and I’ll sign it. Never mind that—let’s get to work.” Mr Isherwood smiled and bowed. He had heard of Mr Napthali Hopps and his 162 DEVELOPMENTS wealth, and now realised that he was in a millionaire’s presence. “Look here,” said Hopps, “I want to find out all that can be found out about the history of a man, of whom I know nothing but two things. One is, of course, his name ~; the other, the date of his birth.” “His name, if you please, Mr Hopps.” “Francis Williams.” “Francis Williams!” Mr Isherwood suddenly became doubly attentive. His brows knitted themselves together, his eyes assumed a new expression, and he leaned forward on his desk and looked closely at Mr Hopps. “ Francis Williams ? ” “Ah, you know the name, I think ? ” said Mr Hopps. “It seems familiar, Mr Hopps. Francis Williams? Not a very common name either. Well, your other facts, please, s1r.” “He was the second son of Mr Stephen Williams, solicitor, of Bangor, and he was born August 2, 1844. That’s all I know about him.” “ And what do you want to know ? ” 163 THE INVESTIGATORS “I want,” answered Mr Hopps, “to know what became of him, whether he died in infancy, or whether he’s alive still, and so on.” “ Do you know any other members of the family, Mr Hopps ? ” “I know one,” said Mr Hopps, rather re- luctantly. “But I don’t want to mention his name.” “You need have no fear, sir. If you climbed Mont Blanc and whispered the name to the topmost pinnacle it would not be more secret than it will with me.” “Well,” said Hopps, “I know his elder brother, Henry Williams. He was born at Bangor in 1843, he was living at Welbeck Street, Portland Square, in 1870, and since 1871 he has resided at Danesford, in Lincolnshire. That’s all I know about him.” “And you want Francis Williams’s life history. It will satisfy you, for instance, if you learn that he died in infancy?” “If you can prove to me that he died in infancy, or is dead, or is living,” said Mr Hopps, “I shall be perfectly content.” 164 DEVELOPMENTS “Give me your address,” said Mr Isher- wood, “ and I will wire for you when I am ready to report the result of my investiga- tions. I shall know all that can be known in a few days. Francis Williams ?-—that name seems strangely familiar to me.” Mr Hopps left his address at Danesford, and went away. He was reassured by Mr Isherwood’s emphatic declaration as to secrecy, but he trembled to think of what might happen if Dr Williams got to hear of the little game which he was carrying on in partnership with Miss Packer. He went slowly up the Strand, reflecting on these things; then, suddenly recovering his spirits, he lunched, drove to King’s Cross, and went down to Grantham, anxious to meet Miss Packer and report his proceedings in due form. As luck would have it, how- ever, he met Miss Packer on the platform at King’s Cross. She had met friends at the Langham Hotel, and had been per- suaded to spend the morning with them. Thus the two partners travelled down together, and Miss Packer was duly in- formed of all that had transpired between 165 THE INVESTIGATORS Mr Hopps and the celebrated Mr Isher- wood. “ It’s strange,” said Miss Packer, “ain’t it, that that man should have been struck by the name ‘ Francis Williams?’ Said he seemed to remember it, eh? Well, we shall see.” Miss Packer had sent a wire to Danesford notifying Agatha of the time of her arrival, and she was therefore not surprised to see Agatha and Leonard on the platform at Grantham. They, on the contrary, were somewhat astonished to see Mr Hopps follow Miss Packer as she advanced to greet them. “We met on the platform at King’s Cross,” said Miss Packer, “ and so we came down together. But what brings you down here, Mr Charlesworth ? You’re never wasting an afternoon in doing nothing? Is there no cricket, or tennis, or anything of that sort?” Then she looked narrowly at Agatha, and suddenly comprehended a good deal. “ Agatha ! ” said Miss Packer. “ Hermione I ” said Agatha. 166 THE INVESTIGATORS weeks?’ but he said ‘Yes’ straight off, and he’s a brick, and Ilove him awfully.” Miss Packer and Mr Hopps, sharing the back seat of Leonard’s dogcart, looked at each other. Their secret was hardly such a pleasant one as that shared by the lovers 168 C H A P T E R X V MR IsHERwoon’s REPORT DURING the next three days Miss Packer and Mr Hopps had abundant opportunity of continuing their discussions. The lovers left them pretty much to themselves, seem- ing to care for no company but their own. Tennis and cricket were forgotten—there was no more hard work at the net and no more lounging under the elms on the edge of the level sward. Agatha suddenly developed a passion for walking, and made up parties of four to explore the neighbour- ing woods, taking great care before each expedition started to explain to one of its members what was required of her. “ We’ll do the valley wood this afternoon, Hermione," said Agatha. “It’s such a dear, delightful, mysterious place, you 169 THE INVESTIGATORS know. All shadows and copses and queer little nooks and corners, where one can lose one’s self. And, of course, Mr Hopps will take great care of you, my dear, and you’ll enjoy yourself immensely. Really, Hermione, I think the poor dear’s just a little bit gone on you ; don't you think so? ” “Never thought of it,” answered Miss Packer. “ Oh, but I’m sure he is, and I do hope you’ll fall in love with him, and be married at the same time as Leonard and myself, and then one service will do for the lot. And now do let’s make haste, because we’ve got to meet the boys, quite accidentally, don’t you know, at three o’clock.” An hour later Leonard and Agatha had contrived to lose themselves in the wood, and Miss Packer and her faithful squire found themselves sitting side by side on a fallen tree which lay in a shady clearing. “It strikes me,” said Mr Hopps, smoking reflectively, “that you and I, Miss Packer, are very good-natured beings. Here we are buried in a wood full of beetles and flies and things, with a long walk behind us and 170 MR ISHERWOOD’S REPORT another before us, all to please a couple of silly young people who don’t care two- pence whether we are here or a thousand miles away.”- “They’re all right,” said Miss Packer. “I expect they are. It must be rather nice,” said Mr Hopps, “to feel like that. Love’s young dream, you know.” “No, I don’t,” answered Miss Packer, shortly; “do you?” “Not I, indeed! Never been in love since I was sixteen,” said Mr Hopps. “I was awfully gone on a pastry-cook’s daughter then. Some association with the tarts and buns, no doubt. But really, you know, I have heard so much from Leonard of the super-excellence of it all since I came back two days ago that I’m beginning—” “ To get sick of it, eh ? ” said Miss Packer. “I guess you are, Mr Hopps. Let’s talk of something more exciting. When do you expect to hear from Isherwood ?” “He said I should hear from him in a day or two.” “And you’ll go up to town,I suppose, when he writes or wires you?” 171 MR ISHERWOOD’S REPORT has gone in fear, mortal fear, of something or other for years. You can see it in his eyes.” “Dear me! ” said Mr Hopps. “ I should rather like to see him.” “Very few people do see him. He’s rooms of his own, communicating with Dr Williams’s study, and he keeps in them always. Never goes out into the grounds, never dines with the doctor, never shows in any way. Strange, isn’t it? ” “ Very,” answered Mr Hopps. “Very. Let’s hope the mystery will clear up before Leonard and his lady-love are united in matrimony.” “ It’s got to be," said Miss Packer, with emphasis. “Yes, it’s got to be cleared up before I go back to Chicago. Or else, Agatha goes with me.” On the fourth day after their return from London Mr Hopps received a polite letter from Mr Isherwood, stating that he should be glad to see him next morning at his office. Hopps made excuses to Leonard, and set out for town. On his way to Grantham he met Miss Packer, who was 173 THE INVESTIGATORS walking slowly along the high road in the direction of Danesford village. He got out of the dog-cart and walked by her side for a moment. “I’m off to London,” said he. “Isher- wood wishes to see me this morning. You shall hear his report next time we meet.” “ Mr Ashley’s very ill,” said Miss Packer. “And Dr Williams has not returned yet He has been ill for some hours, and Agatha wanted to send for Dr Sanderson, but Mrs Hargreaves, the housekeeper, thought it best not to do so. Said the doctor— Williams, you know——might not like it. But the poor man’s very bad now, and I’m going to fetch Sanderson myself, and take him right away to Ashley. What do you think?” “ I think that sounds the right thing to do,” said Mr Hopps. “ Can’t be any possible objection to a doctor coming to the house if Ashley is ill and Williams away.” “He’s more than ill,” said Miss Packer. “He’s about at his last. Come back as soon as you can.” 174 MR ISHERWOOD’S REPORT She went on towards the village, and Mr Hopps climbed into the dogcart again and drove to Grantham, wondering what Mr Isherwood might have to tell him. It was noon when he reached town, and he was somewhat in want of food after his early breakfast and long ride, but he called a cab and drove straight to Isherwood’s office. He was anxious to know all that could be known, and felt that he would lunch better after hearing the results of his agent’s investigations. Mr Isherwood was within, and expecting Mr Hopps, who was forthwith conducted to the great man’s presence. The inquiry agent produced some papers from a safe, courteously invited Mr Hopps to take a seat, and cleared his throat. “Your commission has not been a re- markably difficult one to execute, Mr Hopps,” said he, putting the little bundle of papers at his side. “We soon found out all you wished to know. At least we did to a certain point, at which we came to a full stop.” 175 THE INVESTIGATORS “Tell me what you found out,” said Mr Hopps. “ Well, to begin with, you will remember that when you mentioned the name Francis Williams to me I said that it seemed very familiar?” “ I remember that very well.” “I couldn’t quite think where I had heard it just then,” said Mr Isherwood, “nor could I say what association it had for me. All I knew was that I had heard it before, and that some event was attached to it which was of importance. These things slip one’s memory, you know. However, after you had gone the other day, I cudgelled my brains pretty well, and by-and-by they helped me out of my difficulty. I remembered that in 1870 a young gentleman named Francis Williams was wanted for forgery, and that the case was one of some importance. I was at Scotland Yard in those days, and the warrant passed through my hands. So that was howI came to remember the name, Mr Hopps, and after I had recalled the circumstances I wondered whether the :76 MR ISHERWOOD’S REPORT Francis Williams you wanted to know about and the Francis Williams I re- membered were one and the same man." “Well?” said Mr Hopps. “ And you’ve found—?” “That the Francis Williams you seek information of is the same Francis Williams Who was wanted for forgery in 1870.” Mr Hopps stared at Mr Isherwood wonderingly. What new mystery was this? “Well,” said he, “ and where is Francis Williams? I suppose he was sent to Portland, eh ? ” “Francis Williams was never appre- hended,” answered Mr Isherwood. “A warrant was issued for his arrest, and was put into the hands of a very capable officer, John Daniel—” “I beg your pardon,” said Mr Hopps. “What name? ” “John Daniel,” repeated the agent. “Francis Williams, however, was never arrested. He disappeared completely, and since then has never been heard of. But now let me give you a brief sketch of his M I77 THE INVESTIGATORS history from 1844 to 1870. His father was Mr Stephen Williams, solicitor, of Bangor. The eldest brother, Henry, from ’64 to ’70 was a lecturer at St Matthew’s Hospital, and resided in Welbeck Street. The only sister, Alice, married a Captain Burton and went out to India. Francis came up to town in ’65, and took up a position in Messrs Chinnery, Hope & Bullivant’s bank. The details before me show that he led a very wild, spendthrift life up till ’70. His father paid his debts more than once, but in ’70 it was found out that he had forged a cheque for five thousand pounds, and a warrant was issued for his arrest. He left his rooms on the morning of April 23, 1870, and since that date he has never been seen or heard of. Perhaps” concluded Mr Isherwood, with a sly glance at Mr Hopps, “you know something of him, Mr Hopps?” “ Don’t know him from Adam,” said Mr Hopps. “I know his brother Henry. Very solemn, stiff man of science. But what a strange thing that the other chap, Francis, should disappear so mysteriously ? ” 178 MR ISHERWOOD’S REPORT “ Not at all,” said Mr Isherwood. “ And not uncommon.” “What’s become of the ‘man John Daniel?” asked Mr Hopps. “Perhaps he could tell something.” “ Not he. He took to drink, got turned out of the Force, and went from bad to worse. I saw him in the Blackfriars Road, years ago—a confirmed drunkard. Pity—- he was a smart man at one time. Oh, he knows nothing. He did his best with that warrant—it meant promotion and reward for him, did Williams’s apprehension.” Mr Hopps said good-morning to Mr Isherwood and went away. He thought things over as he lunched, and fancied that he saw daylight at last. His boss-in- chief, however, would see farther than himself, and he decided to return to Danes- ford at once. But during the afternoon he met friends and acquaintances, and was persuaded to dine with one at his club, and thus it came to pass that he did not leave town for Grantham until very late in the evening. ‘7? CHAPTER XVI DEATH MIss PACKER, after leaving Mr Hopps to pursue his journey, went along the road to Danesford, and found her way to Dr Sanderson’s house. The doctor had just risen from breakfast, and was looking over his list of engagements, when Miss Packer was shown in. He had met Agatha’s friend previously, and wondered what brought her to see him. “Doctor,” said Miss Packer, taking a seat, “you probably know that Dr Williams has a friend, Mr Ashley, living with him? ” “Yes,” replied Dr Sanderson, “I do know that, though I have only seen Mr Ashley once, a year or two ago. A con- firmed invalid, is he not?” “If I know anything,” said Miss Packer, “ he’s a dying man.” 180 DEATH “ Dying? He is very ill, then?” Miss Packer related the doings of the last few hours. Mr Ashley was very ill indeed— looked like death. There was death in his eyes—she was sure of it. “And Dr Williams isn’t at home,” she concluded. “He’s gone to Edinburgh to some medical congress. Now, Dr Sander- son, this poor old man ought to be seen at once. Won’t you come along with me and see him? ” “Certainly,” said Dr Sanderson. “I shall be only too glad if I can be of service, Miss Packer.” “I may as well tell you,” said Miss Packer, “that Mrs Hargreaves, the house- keeper, doesn’t want you to go. She said that Dr Williams wouldn’t like anybody to see Mr Ashley but himself. What do you think?” “If Mr Ashley is so ill, and Dr Williams is away, I think my plain duty is to disregard whatever Mrs Hargreaves says.” “ And that’s my notion,” said Miss Packer, “ so you come along with me right away.” Dr Sanderson gave orders to his man to 18! DEATH best that he should be fetched, and we’ll be responsible to Dr Williams.” “I will be responsible to Dr Williams myself,” said Dr Sanderson. “In his absence there can be no possible objection to my seeing his friend.” “Very well, sir,” said Mrs Hargreaves. “If Miss Burton chooses to send for you, I can’t say anything to stop it. But I know that Dr Williams never allows anyone to see Mr Ashley without his permission, and that he will not be pleased. However, I wash my hands of it. Miss Packer seems to have taken the affair into her own hands, and—” “That will do, Mrs Hargreaves,” said Agatha, who had appeared on the scene in time to hear the housekeeper’s remarks. “ Miss Packer is’ very kind to take so much trouble over the matter, and I am sure my uncle will thank her on his return. Hermione, will you take Dr Sanderson to Mr Ashley’s room? You are so much cleverer than I, you know, and you can tell him everything.” “One moment, please, sir,” said Mrs I83 DEATH “I’ve said what I think about it,” said Miss Packer. “Dr Sanderson,” said Agatha, “I insist upon your seeing Mr Ashley at once. I will be responsible to my uncle. I can’t make out Mrs Hargreaves’s objection at all.” Mrs Hargreaves looked at her with a strange smile. “N0, miss,” she said, “perhaps not. You haven’t known Dr Williams as long as Ihave, or you’d make it out easily.” Dr Sanderson followed Miss Packer to Mr Ashley’s room. “ There seems to be some mystery about this poor man,” said he, as they went along the corridor. “What does the old woman mean?” “Haven’t the faintest notion,” replied _Miss Packer. “Jealous of her prerogative, I expect.” “Even in that very probable case I don’t quite see her objection to my visit,” said Dr Sanderson. “It seems to me a most proper thing, considering that Dr Williams is away from home. There might be _ ~.._ “~_ 7 I r 185 THE INVESTIGATORS some awful mystery connected with Mr Ashley.” Miss Packer could make no reply to this. She led the way into the sick man’s room, and having taken Dr Sanderson up to the bedside Went out again and waited in the corridor for his reappearance. It was some little time before the doctor joined her, and when he came she knew from his expression that the sick man’s time was come. “ I don’t think he will live the day out,” said Dr Sanderson. “In fact, he may die at any moment. I wonder he has lived so long. His heart is very weak, and may fail to act any time now. I suppose you have never heard Dr Williams speak of Mr Ashley’s illness or symptoms?” “Never mentioned either to me,” said Miss Packer. “He seems to have had his nervous system thoroughly shattered. In fact, he’s a perfect wreck. I don’t wonder that Dr Williams has kept him so quiet.” “Then there’s nothing to be done for him?” said Miss Packer. “Give him a little brandy every hour, M“ “w 186 THE INVESTIGATORS the counterpane were more like the hands of a skeleton than of a living man. As she sat there Miss Packer wondered who the man was and what his secret was. He was slipping away fast and carrying that secret with him. She wished that he could gain sufficient strength to reveal it to her. A clock on the mantelpiece struck two, and the dying man opened his eyes at the sound, and looked wearily about him. Miss Packer poured a teaspoonful of brandy into his mouth, wondering if he was about to speak. Ashley, however, gave no sign of speaking—it was all he could do to breathe. But presently he made signs to Miss Packer that there was something under his pillow which he wished her to take possession of. She put her hand under the dying man’s head, and found a purse. She held it up before him. His eyes said “ open it.” Miss Packer opened it, and found nothing but a key. Ashley’s eyes travelled round the room until they rested on a small chest, strongly bound, which stood on the dressing- table. Miss Packer understood that he 188 THE INVESTIGATORS Hargreaves seemed to think that you would resent my presence.” “Miss Packer has explained matters,” said Dr Williams. “ I am much obliged to all of you. You would see, of course, that nothing could be done.” “Oh, certainly,” said Dr Sanderson. “He must have been dying for months.” “ He has been dying for years,” answered Dr Williams, “for years.” Miss Packer went away to her own room. She looked the door and took from her pocket the packet which Ashley had committed to her care. It was a stout envelope, evidently containing several sheets of paper, and she turned it over and wondered what it contained. “ And I wonder, too,” she said to herself, “what Williams meant when he said that all the labour and trouble of twenty years was wasted. What could he mean ? No good bothering over that, however. What I’ve got to do is to send this packet off to the nearest magistrate. Now, who is the nearest magistrate? How can I find out without exciting suspicion? It won’t 194 THE INVESTIGATORS to Mr Charlesworth, she carried it down- stairs, and going out into the garden found an under-gardener, and bribed him to run across the park instantly and deliver the parcel into Leonard’s own hands. “ There I” said Miss Packer. “That’s off my mind. AndI wonder what will come of it? ” Leonard had returned home after driving Agatha from the cricket match, and Was dining in solitude when the under-gardener arrived at the Manor House. “The under-gardener at The Bower, sir,” said Leonard’s butler, “has come with a letter or parcel, sir, and says that he must see you yourself about it. He won’t give it to me, sir.” “ Bring him here,” said Leonard. He fancied the letter must be from Agatha, and turned somewhat eagerly to the under- gardener as he came into the room. “The American young lady, sir,” whispered the under-gardener, keeping up the notion of strict confidence. “She give me this, and said as how I wasn’t to give it to nobody but you, sir-” 196 THE PACKET When he was alone again, Leonard opened the parcel aud read Miss Packer’s letter. He looked wonderingly at the packet and at the inscription. He thought it savoured of mystery, and wished for Hopps. After a while he cut it open and read the first few lines of a manuscript which lay inside it. Suddenly he folded it up and placed it in his pocket. He finished his dinner and then, going to his study, he looked the door and sat down to read Ashley’s letter. b—fi Lu.-- I97 THE DEAD WITNESS absolute truth, so help me, God, of the history of my unhappy life so far. I intend to make provision for the placing of this document in the hands of a magis- trate, in order that he may read it after I am dead,-and take such steps as he then thinks fit. “Henry Williams being at this moment away from home, I am enabled to carry out an intention which I formed some time ago, but have up to now had no chance of ful- filling, namely, to give some account of the relations existing between him and myself. So far those relations have existed in ab- solute secrecy, and they will continue to so exist until my death. If by any chance this document never reaches the hands of justice, if it should fall into the possession of Henry Williams, then no one will ever know the real truth. But I shall do my utmost to contrive its delivery to some- one who will see justice done when I am dead. “Whoever you are, then, to whom this statement is delivered, remember that a dead man, a murdered man, if my con- Mn-~- I99 THE DEAD WITNESS appointed lecturer in Anatomical Demon- strations and Dissections at St Matthew’s Hospital. He was then living in Welbeck Street, and was looked upon as a rising man. “I went up to London in 1865 to take a post in Messrs Chinnery, Hope & Bulli- vant’s bank. My father had a strong interest in the affair, and it was understood that my position was ultimately to be of considerable value. Unfortunately, I was utterly foolish and irresponsible in every way. I had a handsome allowance from my father, in addition to a comfortable salary, and my work was by no means hard. If I had my time to come over again, I could live a most enjoyable life on the income I then had. In those days, however,I was neither more nor less than a foolish, vicious and idle young spendthrift. Cards, dice, horse-racing and women had more attrac- tions for me than business and duty. I ran heavily into debt. Twice my debts were cleared off by my father. Upon the last occasion he gave me to understand that he should do no more for me. That 20! THE DEAD WITNESS would infallibly win, and advised me to put all the money I could get together on him. I was absolutely certain that the advice thus got was sound, and I fancied that I saw my way to clear myself. But I still wanted ready money for Hawker and others, and I also needed money to stake in respect to the horse mentioned to me. Where was I to get it? “In a desperate moment I forged a cheque for five thousand pounds. It was in the name of a customer who invariably kept a large balance in our hands. The cheque, once honoured, came into my possession, and I thought that I could so contrive matters that the crime would never be discovered. Within a month I felt absolutely certain of being able to replace the money. Therefore I carried out my intention, and paid off my debts. I had over a thousand left, and I staked it all on the horse named to me. “Within a week my crime was dis- covered. I was surprised one morning by the manager, who wished to see all 203 THE DEAD WITNESS Finally it was decided that I should travel down to Lincolnshire, and hide myself there for a week or two, while Henry remained behind to watch matters, and to endeavour to make terms with my employers. I accordingly left town that afternoon, and remained at a village near Horncastle for ten days. Henry was in- formed of my address, and on the eleventh day I received a letter from him, bidding me meet him at Hull. “When we met he informed me that the fraud had been discovered, as I had supposed, and that a warrant had been issued for my arrest. He had seen Messrs Chinnery, and had used all his powers of persuasion to endeavour to make them hush the matter up. They were willing to do what they could for my father’s sake, but the man whose name had been forged had been put in possession of the facts, and he utterly refused to have any mercy upon me. He cared neither for my father’s grief nor for the offer which Henry made to refund the money. He insisted on the law taking its course. 205 THE IN VESTIGATORS “There was accordingly nothing for it, in Henry’s opinion, but for me to flee the country, and he had already made arrange- ments for my departure from Hull that day. A merchant vessel was sailing for Buenos Ayres, and I was to go with her as a passenger, under the name of Charles Ashley. He provided me with money and outfit, and towards night we drove down to the docks, where he proposed to see me on board. “ As we dismissed the cabman, a tall man came up to me, and touched me on the shoulder. Henry turned upon him at once, asking him his business. “ ‘If you will step aside a moment,’ he said, ‘I will tell you what it is.’ “ ‘We have no business with you,’ said Henry, and took me by the arm, as if to lead me away. “The man followed us closely. “ ‘I don’t want to make a scene, sir,’ said he, addressing Henry, ‘but I shall have to if you won’t give me a moment.’ “We drew under the shadow of one of the dockside sheds, I with a sickening fear 206 THE INVESTIGATORS have suffered the agonies of imprisonment over and over again, and Henry \Villiams has been my gaoler. I have been tortured beyond belief by the solitude and silence which I have, undergone, and by the fear of what would happen if I attempted to escape. “But there has been more than that. Henry \Villiams, for some purpose of his own, has slowly done me to death. When I came here I was a strong man ; now I am old and worn before my time, I have no vigour, I am easily frightened, and I weep like a child. I am nervous and timid, and start at shadows Henry Williams has done all that. To him I am nothing but an interesting case. “I shall not live long now, but Iwrite this in the hope that when I am dead the law will lay hold of my murderer. Let wheever receives this statement put the law in motion, and see justice done. Let him ask Henry Williams one question—What did he do with me during the years he kept me prisoner in his own house? “ FRANCIS WILLIAMs.” 212 THE DEAD WITNESS Leonard folded the document up, re- turned it to its envelope, and, placing it in his breast pocket, sat for some moments lost in thought. Then he rose and left the house, and walked steadily across the park towards The Bower. He had resolved to see Henry Williams at once. 213 CHAPTER XIX WITH THE AID OF SCIENCE DR WILLIAMS, after his interview with Miss Packer and Dr Sanderson, went to his own rooms, and remained there for some time. At seven o’clock he met Agatha and Hermione in the dining-room, and pro- ceeded to his duties at the head of the dinner table as if nothing had happened. Miss Packer, watching him closely, failed to observe any sign of agitation in his serene countenance. Whatever the man felt, he betrayed nothing. He spoke gravely, and with subdued tones, as is usual with men when death enters their house; but he was neither silent nor reserved, and seemed rather to be doing his best to remove the gloom which hung over the little party around him. Agatha - —-¢~~ 214 THE INVESTIGATORS desk, and from a drawer produced a stoutly-bound manuscript book. He flung himself into a chair and turned over the leaves, covered for the most part with his own fine handwriting. “Here is the labour of twenty years,” he mused. “And it is wasted. A few months, a few more observations, a few more experiments, and my life’s work would have been crowned with success. It is hard that I should have worked so long, and so assiduously, only to see death step in between me and the triumph I looked forward to. This morning I would not have exchanged this paper book for a thousand times its weight in gold—to-night it is so much waste paper.” He flung the book upon his desk, and, folding his arms, sat with bent head and gloomy eyes staring at it. If Miss Packer had seen him at that moment, she would have had no difficulty in deciding that Dr Williams had at last found a subject likely to give him food for unpleasant thought. A knock came at the door. The solitary 216 WITH THE AID OF SCIENCE occupant of the study looked up in some surprise. It was well understood amongst his servants that he was never to be disturbed. “I beg your pardon, sir,” said the foot- man, looking somewhat afraid of the con- sequences of his daring ; “ but Mr Charles- worth desires to see you at once on a matter of urgent importance. I told Mr Charlesworth, sir, that my orders were—” “Never mind,” said the doctor. “Bring Mr Charlesworth here at once. Don’t let us be disturbed afterwards on any account.” Presently Leonard entered. The marks of agitation and discomposure were so evident on his countenance that Dr Williams stared at him wonderingly. He advanced to meet him, holding out his hand. Leonard made no motion to take it. He bowed, looking steadily at the doctor. “What is the matter, Leonard?” said Dr Williams. “You look ill—worried. There is nothing wrong, surely, between you and Agatha?” “No,” answered Leonard. All the way 217 THE INVESTIGATORS across the park he had tormented himself by wondering how the miserable revelation just made to him would affect his relation- ship with the doctor’s niece. He saw himself bound to clear up the investigation to which he was now pledged, and it would be impossible to do it without branding Dr Williams as a scoundrel, if not as a criminal. What would Agatha say to that? “Take a seat,” said the doctor, wonder- ing at his visitor’s strange behaviour. “You don’t seem quite yourself.” Leonard looked at him wonderingly. He supposed that Francis Williams lay dead close by, and it amazed him that the dead man’s brother could stand there evidently as cool and collected as if nothing unusual had occurred. He sat down dazed and miserable, and ill-fitted for the task imposed upon him. “I understand from Agatha that you had been playing cricket, and that she had been to watch the game,” said the doctor, seating himself in his easy-chair. “And I was glad to find that she had been away from the house this afternoon. You 218 WITH THE AID OF SCIENCE have no doubt heard that my poor friend Ashley is dead. It is hardly a surprise—— he has been dying for years.” “I heard of it,” said Leonard. “And —and that, Dr Williams is why I came here.” Williams glanced at him curiously. “That is why you came here? Oh, I see, to offer your condolence. Very kind and proper, no doubt, but really the poor fellow’s life was a burden to him, and his death was simply a happy release. That,” said Williams, smiling, “is a hackneyed phrase, but it undoubtedly fits the present circumstances.” He was beginning to wonder why Leonard stared at him so persistently. There was an expression on the young man’s face which he did not remember to have seen there previously. It seemed to indicate wonder and astonishment and disgust. “Dr Williams,” said Leonard, “I did not come here to offer you my sympathy. I came to speak to you on a most un- pleasant matter. I will begin by asking ~.-\--a_.--~\__ 219 WITH THE AID OF SCIENCE from his questioner, and took two or three rapid turns about the room. Suddenly he came back and sat down again, cool and composed as ever. “Now, Mr Charlesworth,” said he, “let us understand each other. Let us have no mysteries. We are full-grown men, and can afford to deal with things in a plain way.” “I should prefer that we are brutally plain, if that will please you,” said Leonard. He knew now that the thing was true, and his one feeling for the man before him was of disgust. “It will please me. Let us be very plain, brutally plain, as you put it. You have evidently got hold—how Iknow not —of some particulars of my family history which do not concern you.” “ Excuse me,” said Leonard. “They do concern me. I am a magistrate.” “ Oh ! you come to me in your magisterial capacity ? ” “I come to you,” said Leonard, “ because certain facts have been placed in my hands which will necessitate my taking action. I 22! THE INVESTIGATORS might have put the law in force—I pre- ferred seeing you personally, and begging you to give me an explanation.” “I am much obliged to you. Perhaps you will tell me What it is that I am to explain? ” “I have already told you. But I desire no mystery, and, therefore, I tell you at once that this afternoon there reached me a packet addressed simply, ‘To the nearest magistrate.’ It contained a statement written by' Francis Williams some time previous to his death. In that statement he gives a full account of himself, and he makes certain charges against you. It will be best, perhaps, if you read the statement for yourself. You will give me your word of honour that you will return it to me as soon as you have read it ? " “I give you my word of honour that I will return it to you as soon as I have read it,” said the doctor. Leonard produced the packet and handed it over. Williams laid it unopened on his knee after a glance at the hand- writing. 222 WITH THE AID OF SCIENCE “ First,” he said, “tell me how this thing came into your possession.” “That,” answered Leonard, “I shall not do.” Williams looked at him earnestly for a moment. “Never mind,” he said, “I will read the statement.” He unfolded the paper and spread it out before him. Leonard wondered that he could be so cool. He wore spectacles to read with, and he produced them deliberately and polished them carefully before putting them on. Then he settled himself com- fortably in his chair, and proceeded to read the dead man’s statement. Twenty minutes of dead silence followed. Then Dr Williams folded up the document, returned it to its envelope, and handed it back to Leonard. “Well, Mr Charlesworth,” he said, “what do you wish me to say?” “I wish to know if the facts in this document are as stated.” “ Undoubtedly they are. The man who lies dead in the next room—don’t start, he 223 THE INVESTIGATORS is dead—is Francis Williams, my scape- grace brother. Everything he says about himself in that paper is true enough.” “And what of the statements he makes about you?” “Ah! that is another matter. You will excuse me from entering into it.” “ Then,” said Leonard, placing the packet in his breast pocket and rising, “I shall have to do my duty, Dr Williams, and hand these papers over to the police.” “ Sit down,” said the doctor. “ I thought we were to discuss this matter without haste.” Leonard sat down again. “What object will you serve,” asked \Villiams, “by giving information to the police? Francis Williams is dead. They can do nothing with him, and I don’t suppose you want to prosecute me for being accessory after the crime? I played the part of good brother; no man would blame me.” “No,” said Leonard. “But the last sentences of this statement—what of them? What did you do with your brother? ” 224 WITH THE AID OF SCIENCE “That I decline to answer. Whatever I did with him I shall not disclose to any- one. There is no power on earth that can find that secret out.” “I can do no more then,” said Leonard, again rising. “I am bound to carry out the wishes of the man who sent me this statement. To me it is sacred. I must hand it OVer to the police.” Dr Williams rose and came closer to Leonard. “Mr Charlesworth,” said he, “do you love my niece?” “Before God, Dr Williams,” said Leonard, “I love her so much that I would rather die than cause her a moment’s grief or anxiety.” “ You will never marry her if you carry out your present design of handing over that document to the police. For God’s sake, man, think of what you are doing! Think of the scandal you are re-opening, of the noise and wonder there will be. Think of dragging the shameful history which you have there into the light of day again. Let it rest—let it rest!” P 225 THE INVESTIGATORS “I must do my duty,” said Leonard. “The man who wrote this charged me with his commission. I must do it." “Sit down again. Give me a moment to think,” said Williams. Leonard sat down. “You have, of course, not revealed to anyone the contents of that packet ? ” asked Williams, presently. “ No one knows a word of it but myself,” answered Leonard. Williams, excusing himself, left the room. He found the footman who had admitted Leonard. “Does anyone besides yourself know that Mr Charlesworth is in this house ?" he inquired. "I think not, sir,” said the man. “I met Mr Charlesworth at the door and brought him straight to the study." “ Don’t mention his presence to anyone,” said the doctor. “We have important business, and must not be disturbed.” Then he went back to the study. Out- side the door he paused for a moment and stood thinking. “ Now then,” he said to himself, “ Leonard 226 CHAPTER XX SILENCED LEONARD sat staring sadly at the fire. Mid-July as it was, the fire burnt warm and bright. It was Dr Williams’s whim that there should always be a fire in his room summer or winter. He was wonder- ing what would come of the trouble to which he now saw himself and Agatha and Williams rapidly hastening. “Now, Mr Charlesworth,” said the doctor, “I have thought of a plan. You know Mr Aubrey, the solicitor, of Gran- tham? Of course, he is your own solicitor. He is also mine. We both have confidence in him. Will you sit down at my desk there and write him a note, asking him to come here at once? Three heads are better than two. We will tell him all about this 228 SILENCED sad business and ask his advice. I have ordered my dogcart to be in readiness, and the man who carries the note will bring Aubrey back.” “I have no objection to that,” said Leonard; and he sat down to write the note. Williams crossed over to a table near the window and took from a stand something which looked like a long splinter of wood, of the thickness of a penholder, pointed at one end to the fineness of a needle. Hold- ing this in his right hand he came to Leonard’s side and stood over him, watch- ing the young squire’s fingers moving over the paper. “I think I would alter that,” he said, leaning forward and pointing out a word with the splinter. “ Say ‘important business.’ ” Leonard moved his hand. As he did so, Williams accidentally dropped the splinter. The fine point fell on Leonard’s wrist, penetrating the skin. “ Dear, dear l” said Williams. “ How clumsy of me! I’m afraid that’s hurt you.” 229 THE INVESTIGATORS “ It’s only a scratch,” said Leonard, draw- ing out the splinter. “Nothing more. There’s the note.” Williams took the note and left the room. The door between him and Leonard he put the note in his pocket and went no further. For some minutes he stood waiting, then he opened the door again and re-entered the room. Leonard stood near the fire. Already a curious change had come over him. He looked at Williams with an expression of wondering fear. “Doctor,” he said, “I’m ill. There’s something wrong. I’m turning to wood or stone. See, I can't move! Help me.” He was about to fall when the doctor laid hold of him and supported him gently to a sofa close by. Once laid there, he stiffened out and was perfectly still. He looked imploringly at Williams and tried to speak again. His lips moved slightly, and then became fixed and rigid. Williams went over to the door and locked it care- fully. He examined the door leading into Ashley’s rooms, and then, coming back to 230 THE INVESTIGATORS all of it. Now, that secret is going to be buried for ever in your brain, and so you shall hear everything about it. All that Francis Williams told you is true—-it is also true that for twenty years I practised a long series of experiments on Francis Williams, and that I gradually killed him. And why not? His life was worthless and it was mine. I rescued him from a shameful fate, and I decided that he should be a victim to science. For years I had desired to in- vestigate nervous disease, and in him I found a good subject. Look at this note- book. It is almost full of my notes on his case. I was within sight of my desired results when he died. My labour has been useless. But useless as it has been, I am not going to have you denounce me to the world as a cold-blooded murderer. I am too fond of life for that, and I am going to silence you effectually. “ Charlesworth, I have once before been threatened as you threatened me to-night. Some weeks ago the man John Daniel came here, as he had come more than once, seeking his hush-money. He dared to 232 SILENCED threaten me. You know what followed. He died—never mind how—and he is buried in Danesford churchyard under the name of James Dickenson. His life, too, was worthless. “Your life is not worthless, and I shall not kill you. But while I leave you your life I am going to take from you the power that would enable you to tell what you know to anyone. I have often wondered whether it would not be possible to pro- duce aphasia by operation. That is the experiment I am now going to perform on you. Let me tell you about it. I shall mercifully give you a little chloroform. Then I shall measure a point two inches from the angle of the eye on the left side of your head, and three-quarters of an inch above that I shall make a circular incision, cutting down to the membranes of the brain. Underneath these lies the posterior portion of the third left frontal convolution. I shall excise a small portion of that—and you will be silenced. I shall have produced aphasia in you. You will not die—don’t fear it. You are a strong man, and you 233 THE INVESTIGATORS will easily recover from the shock. But you will never be able to connect thought with speech, and therefore you will never have the power to reveal what you know of me and my doings. Now you under- stand me. You understand that between me and my work I allow nothing to come.” Leonard, lying on the sofa like a log of wood, powerless to speak or move, felt his heart turn to ice as the cold, cruel tones reached his ear. He was perfectly sensible and perfectly helpless. He gave himself up for lost. It seemed to him that he was in the hands of some devil or madman. He closed his eyes; then opened them again, and watched Williams as the latter moved about the room making his pre- parations. The man was as cool and collected as if he had been demonstrating in his lecture-room. “ There,” he said presently; “ I think we are ready. Chloroform—scalpel—trephine —silkworm-gut--sutures—and the time is a quarter to nine. By ten minutes past I ought to have successfully completed the 234 THE INVESTIGATORS with steady skill as it cut out the circular piece of bone ; they severed the membranes with a touch. “And there lies the brain,” murmured the operator. “Seat of thought and skill and wisdom. Pity to dislocate so fine a machine! ” Within another moment the scalpel had done its work. Only a tiny bit excised from the greyish—looking matter and the thing was done. “ For him,” muttered Williams, “ there is a curious appropriateness in Hamlet’s ob- servation, ‘ the rest is silence.’ ” Just as deftly as he had begun he finished his work. The bit of bone went back into its place, the sutures went in neat stitches over the scalp, and every detail was carried out with a nicety and exacti— tude which gave the operator considerable satisfaction in his work. Williams glanced at the clock as he made an end. “Eight minutes past nine,” he said. “I have done it in twenty-three minutes. That is good time.” 236 SILENCED He stood looking at the inanimate figure on the sofa. “You are silenced, my friend,” he said. “If you were dead you could not be less dangerous than you are now and are to be in future.” 237 MISS PACKER IS PUZZLED strychnine to remove the effects of the curare.” After a time Dr Williams rang his bell. The footman who had shown Leonard into the study an hour earlier answered the ring, and stared with astonishment at the prostrate figure of the young squire. “Mr Charlesworth,” said the doctor, “has had a slight accident. At present you need not mention the matter to any- one. Fetch Mrs Hargreaves here, and come back with her.” The housekeeper, appearing a few minutes later, was not so much surprised at the sight of Leonard lying motionless as the footman had been. She gave him one rapid glance and then turned to her master. “Mr Charlesworth has had an accident,” said Dr Williams. “He fell, and cut his head rather severely against the fender.” “He is not dead, sir?” said the woman. “ No—no. I have stitched up the wound, and he will be all right presently. But he will have to stay here all night, and possibly for a day or two. I wish you 239 TH E INVESTIGATORS Dr Williams then left the room, and proceeded to inform Agatha and Miss Packer of Leonard's illness. Now that immediate danger had been removed from his own path, he was as collected and resourceful as ever, and he felt anxious to put matters on an obviously straight- forward footing. The two girls sat in Agatha’s room talking. Somehow both of them felt depressed. Miss Packer had been almost continuously in attendance on the dead man since an early hour in the morning, and she was tired in consequence. Agatha’s spirits were saddened by the presence of death in the house. She moved restlessly about the room, settling to nothing. “I think I am not cut out for this sort of thing, Hermione,” said Agatha. “I don’t like grey grief as well as green pleasure. Do you ? ” “My dear,” said Miss Packer, “I guess it don’t make two cents' difference whether I do or not. We’ve all of us got our share of both, and we’ve just got to bear with them.”' 242 MISS PACKER IS PUZZLED entered the room. “ Here -— in the house?” “ He is,” replied the doctor. “He called to see me on business, and he, unfortunately, fell over some obstacle in my study, and has cut his head rather badly. I have stitched up the wound, and we have taken him to bed. He is rather con- fused and stunned at present, but I hope to give a good account of him in the morning.” “Let me go to him,” said Agatha. “At present I think you had better not,” said the doctor. “Later you may be able to see him for a few moments just to assure yourself that he is not quite killed. I thought it best to tell you lest Patty or one of the servants should frighten you.” “What an awful day l ” sighed Agatha, when the doctor had gone. “First poor Mr Ashley and now Leonard. Whatever could he be doing to fall and cut his head against the fender?” “I don’t know,” said Miss Packer. “Don’t ask me, Agatha.” She was shocked and surprised. She felt 24s MISS PACKER IS PUZZLED YUM“ “Ah!” said Hopps. Ashley is dead.” “No, sir. Leastways, Mr Ashley died this afternoon. That was expected, sir. But the squire, sir——” “ Great God, man, there’s nothing wrong with Mr Charlesworth, surely! Speak out at once—don’t stand gaping there. What is it?” The butler spoke out. News had come that Mr Charlesworth had met with an accident, and was lying in bed at The Bower. “Why didn’t you tell me at first?” said Hopps. He dashed away across the park in the darkness, and ran at his top speed to The Bower. He was breathless when he reached the door, and could scarcely find words to ask for Dr Williams. But the latter, in company with Dr Sanderson, was coming along the entrance hall, and he recognised Hopps and welcomed him. “Nothing serious?” said Hopps, breath- ing hard. “ Tell me—straight out!” “ It’s rather a bad fall,” answered Sander- “ I suppose Mr 247 C H A P T E R X X I I MISS PACKER IS NONPLUSSED THE yew tree which Miss Packer had named as a convenient trysting—place stood in a quiet corner of the lawn on the other side of the house. To reach it Mr Hopps had to skirt the garden and pass directly in front of the windows of Dr Williams’s study. He shivered-a little as he picked his way between the flower beds, not because he was cold, but because there was a sense of mystery in the night’s proceedings which somewhat overawed him. He felt that the plot was thickening, and began to wonder where on earth it was to end. Beneath the yew tree all was dark as winter midnight. Across the lawn burnt the shaded lights of the house, but their spreading shafts hardly reached to where 249 MISS PACKER IS NONPLUSSED “In bald fashion then,” said Mr Hopps. “Well, this Francis Williams, who was a clerk in Chinnery, Hope & Bullivant’s bank, committed forgery in 1870, and was wanted by the police in consequence. A warrant was issued for his arrest, and was put into the hands of a man named John Daniel. That warrant was never executed. Francis Williams disappeared from his rooms on April 23, 1870, and has never been seen or heard of since. The man John- Daniel did his best to find him, but with no result. That’s all I have to tell.” “ It doesn’t sound much,” observed Miss Packer, thoughtfully, “ but there’s a good deal in it for all that. Now, listen to my story, and when you’ve heard it we’ll piece the two together and see what we can make out. You know, of course, that Ashley is dead. He died this afternoon. An hour or two before he died he handed over to me a sealed packet which I had taken from its hiding-place at his direction. This packet bore instructions that it was to be given to the nearest magistrate after Ashley’s death. Accordingly, later in the afternoon, I sent ~M 251 THE INVESTIGATORS it across to Mr Charlesworth. Not long afterwards Mr Charlesworth came post- haste across the park, and was shown into Dr Williams’s study. They were together there for some time, and then Williams came to Agatha’s room and told us that Mr Charlesworth had met with an accident. That’s all.” “\Vell?” said Mr Hopps, after a brief silence. “What do you make of it all?” “This,” said Miss Packer. “That Francis Williams was masquerading in that house under the name of Ashley, and that it is Francis Williams who lies dead in that room at this moment.” She pointed across the lawn as she spoke, and Mr Hopps, catching the faint gleam of the lamp which burnt in the death-chamber, felt himself more nervous than ever. “I say!” he exclaimed. “Oh, come, Miss Packer, do you really think that?” “ I’m certain of it. Put two and two together. Francis Williams leaves London, so does Henry Williams. Henry Williams settles here, and has an invalid gentleman with him, who never goes out, rarely sees 252 THE INVESTIGATORS Henry Williams. Then John Daniel died —how, we do not know.” “By George!” said Mr Hopps. “I see it. And it looks bad.” “Let’s go further,” said Miss Packer. “The packet which Ashley, or Francis Williams, as we ought to call him, handed to me, and which I sent on to Leonard Charlesworth—what did it contain? Evi— dently some secret. It must have affected Leonard strongly, because he came here in haste, as soon as he had read it. Now what was this accident which has befallen him? Had it anything to do with the secret?” “ God knows!" said Mr Hopps, sadly. “We must ask Leonard when he’s fit to talk.” “ Mr Hopps,” said Miss Packer, “it’s my belief that Mr Charlesworth will not be fit to talk for some time. Now I’ll say what I think. There was foul play in the case of Francis Williams; there was foul play in the case of Daniel, alias Dickenson; and there’s foul play in the case of Mr Charles- worth. The whole secret of this mystery 254 THE INVESTIGATORS about. If you find it, read it. Meanwhile I’ll do what I can here. Meet me in the morning in the park, near the Ash Coppice. And now good-night, Mr Hopps, for I’m dead tired.” So they parted, and while Hopps went across the park Miss Packer returned to the house. She had experienced a long and trying day, and now felt inclined to forget everything in sleep. There was work to do, however, and she was not long left in ignorance of it. When Dr Sanderson and Mr Hopps had left the house, Dr Williams went to his housekeeper’s room and had a short conver- sation with her and the manservant who had attended Ashley for some years. The result was that he presently returned to the drawing-room in search of Miss Packer. Finding her gone and Agatha retired to her own room, he was about to send Patty in search of her when she entered the hall by the door which gave access to the lawn. “I suppose you have been taking a breath of fresh air,” said Dr Williams in his pleasantest manner. 256 THE INVESTIGATORS “And before he died he gave you a packet, which, at his direction, you sent on to Mr Charlesworth?” “ He did.” “I wish you had consulted me before doing so,” said Dr Williams. “But perhaps I had not returned, and, of course, the wishes of the dead are sacred. Well now, Miss Packer, I am going to trust you with a secret. I make no conditions as to your preserving it, because I am sure you are too honourable to do otherwise than respect my confidence. Miss Packer, the man who died this afternoon was my brother Francis. He had lived with me twenty years under the name of Charles Ashley, and only yourself and Mr Charlesworth know who he really was. In his youth Francis committed a grave crime. He forged another man’s name to a cheque, and if he had fallen into the hands of justice he would probably have been sent to penal servitude for a long period. I rescued him, and I came here to live in order that he might have a comfortable hiding—place. It seemed to me a just 258 MISS PACKER IS NONPLUSSED arrangement. No one suffered. I made good the money which he had obtained by means of his forgery. Well, he is dead. I shall bury him under the name by which he had latterly been known. But the poor fellow had written out a confession of his sin, and had addressed it to the nearest magistrate, and it was that confession which you forwarded to Mr Charlesworth. Mr Charlesworth and I have talked the matter over to-night, and agreed that it will be well to let matters rest. I have told this story to you, Miss Packer, so that you may understand what seemed, perhaps, a little mysterious. You see, there are skeletons in every man’s cupboard, and I have had mine. Now that you have seen it—-—” “I shall not speak of it to others,” said Miss Packer, rising and moving towards the door. Then she turned and looked at the doctor curiously. “ How is Mr Charles- worth now? ” she asked. “He’s going on very nicely,” answered Dr Williams. “Will he soon recover?” 259 THE INVESTIGATORS “That depends. He had a bad fall, and the injury may be serious. Of that we shall judge better to-morrow.” Miss Packer retired, utterly at a loss to account for certain hard facts. 260 THE INVESTIGATORS “Yes, sir,” she said shortly. “Good- morning, sir; Iam wanted in Mr Charles- worth’s room.” “ That old party knows or suspects some- thing,” mused Mr Hopps as he strolled back to the Manor. “There’s mystery in her face. Poor old Leonard I—that he should have fallen a victim is horrible. What can that fellow Williams have done with him ? ” He thought over this question while he ate his breakfast, and was still thinking of it when he set forth to meet Miss Packer at the Ash Coppice. Miss Packer was there before him—he caught the flutter of her light gown amongst the trees as he crossed the park. When they met it was with no formal greeting. Both were too much con- cerned with the important matter before them to waste time in an exchange of platitudes. “Anything fresh?” asked Mr Hopps. “Yes,” answered Miss Packer. “Yes, indeed. I’m puzzled, Mr Hopps, and that’s the long and short of it. That man Williams is too much for me.” 262 THE INVESTIGATORS part of a confidence man. That’s very clever, but no good with me, Mr Hopps.” “Then we’re not beaten?” said Mr Hopps. “No, but what are we going to do next? Don’t you see that we are at a dead- lock?” “Of course I do.” “The mystery, Mr Hopps, was in that packet which Francis Williams caused me to deliver to Mr Charlesworth. Only one man knows what was in that packet. That’s Leonard. And there belies—utterly powerless to speak. Mr Hopps—I’ve a notion. It’s a horrible, dreadful notion; but it’s there, and it’s got to come out. Do you know, I don’t believe Mr Charles- worth ever will have power to tell us what was in that packet?” “ Good Heavens! What do you mean ? ’ cried Mr Hopps. “I don’t quite know,” answered Miss Packer. “But I’m a good hand at suppos- ing things. And suppose you were a clever, skilful, scientific man, not at all scrupulous as to wrong and right, and some other man Aarm 'W... ,-> . n ,_ “flu-“,w .. .- 264 THE INVESTIGATORS actually married Almira Kentridge, a girl three years younger than myself. He wants me to go home and be dutiful. And that’s just what I shall not do, Mr Hopps. I’m my own' mistress, and I’ve money of my own which nobody can lay a finger on, and I’ll let my father see what I think of his foolishness.” Mr Hopps drew a long inspiration from his cigarette, and, having blown the smoke into curling rings, looked at Miss Packer very thoughtfully- “Miss Packer,” said he, “you’re the cleverest, the most practical and the most sensible young woman I’ve ever met. I’ve a most tremendous admiration for you.” “Well, I guess that’s natural,” said Miss Packer. “Yes, I suppose so. But I say, you know, you and I seem to run together very comfortably. We have done so far, at any- rate. Miss Packer, what do you say if we pair off for good?” Miss Packer looked at Mr Hopps steadily, and with considerable thought in her fine eyes. 268 MISS PACKER TAKES ACTION “Are you asking me to marry you?” she said. “Yes; I am,” answered Mr Hopps. Miss Packer continued to regard him with thoughtful eyes. “It’s not the first time I’ve been asked,” she said presently. “Ever since I was sixteen men have asked me. Some looked like idiots and some like fools and some like play-actors while they made their little professions. I don’t quite remember ever having such a sort of cold-blooded proposal as this.” “It’s cold-blooded because it’s real,” said Mr Hopps. “Look here, Miss Packer, you and I ought to understand each other by now. I’m a rich man, and I’ve a tremendous admiration for you, and a complete faith in you. You’re the cleverest woman I know, and your intellect is just what I want. Will you marry me?” “Yes,” said Miss Packer. “That’s all right,” said Mr Hopps, coolly. He took his lady-love’s hand in his own, 269 MISS PACKER TAKES ACTION and tell her the news. Agatha was delighted. She prayed Mrs Hopps to do her best for poor Leonard. “If only he could speak!” she said. “Oh, Hermione, it is awful. I feel as if I were an old, old woman. And I used to be so light-hearted!” 271 CHAPTER XXIV DR KLOOTZ IT was a fortunate thing for Mr Hopps and his bride that neither of them had any inclination towards sentimentalism. Other- wise their first days of married life must needs have been made gloomy by the shadow which lay over the Manor House at Danes- ford. “ We are uncommon young people,” said Mr Hopps to his wife, “ and this is an un- common sort of honeymoon. But, upon my life and soul, I’d rather see you here, Hermione, acting sick nurse to poor old Leonard, than on the Continent, trotting me round all the show places.” “We’ll do all that after,” said Mrs Hopps. “Let’s finish our work first. God knows there’s enough to do!” 272 DR KLOOTZ concurred, and Dr Williams named an eminent man. The eminent man came down and was pleased to meet Dr Williams once more. He agreed entirely with all that that gentleman had said and done. Aphasia and agraphia—yes, that was certain. As to the results, he could say nothing. So he took his heavy fee and went away, leaving Mr Hopps uncomforted. About this time Mr Hopps began to think very deeply. He was engaged in proving to himself that two and two make four, and that three added make seven, and the process was not quite so easy as one would imagine. “Hermione,” said he, consulting his wife, “there are things in this case that I can’t comprehend. Now, there is one matter which must have struck you, though that pompous ass from town never seemed to see it.” “IVhat is that? ” inquired Mrs Hopps. “Why, the fearful awful aversion dis- played by Leonard towards Williams. Haven’t you noticed it?” “ Certainly.” 775 DR KLOOTZ Agatha also. I’ll go across and make all arrangements with her and Williams this afternoon. After we’ve seen Klootz, we’ll travel. It won’t hurt Leonard, and it will do him good to have Agatha near him.” Mr Hopps was somewhat doubtful as to whether Dr Williams would let his niece go. Mrs Hopps had no doubt whatever. She simply announced to Agatha and her uncle that her plans were so~and-so. Agatha, of course, agreed at once, and Dr Williams made no resistance. And so, early in autumn, Mr Hopps in charge of Leonard, and Mrs Hopps in charge of Agatha, left Lincolnshire and he- took themselves and a considerable .appanage of servants and luggage to Berlin. They lost no time in seeing Dr Klootz. The celebrated surgeon proved to be a snuffy, somewhat shabby, old gentleman, with a keen eye and excellent English. He examined Leonard carefully, and listened to Mrs Hopps’s clear statement of the case. ~;.“I~I'vi'; ‘ fl 279 DR KLOOTZ He will not kill him—no. But he is clever —that naughty, bad man. He will bring science to his aid. He will touch the very soul of speech—yes, he will arrest it at its fountain-head. So ! very clever—yes, diabolic in its cleverness. What a very great and clever man!” “ Is there any hope?” asked Mr Hopps. “Gently, gently! The case is interest- ing—let us consider it thoughtfully. Your friend, now—is he ambidextrous?” “He can throw a cricket ball with his left hand as well as with ‘his right,” answered Mr Hopps. “ So ! ” Dr Klootz continued to ponder. “Well, now, I tell you what we will do. You will leave your friend with me—in my private hospital. For a time yet I will give him my best care—under my own supervision there may be a chance for him.” “In how long a time?” asked Mr Hopps. But Dr Klootz answered nothing. He proceeded to discuss arrangements with Mr 281 CHAPTER XXV DR SANDERSON’S THEORY LEAVING Leonard in charge of the famous specialist, Mr and Mrs Hopps and Agatha resumed their travels. That winter they spent in the south of France. Now and then Mr Hopps went back to Berlin, and visited his unfortunate friend. On his return from these visits he had little news to give. Dr Klootz would pledge himself to no definite opinion. His patient’s general health was good, and sometimes there were symptoms that seemed favour- able. They must hope for the best; there was no harm in hoping. From his fifth visit Mr Hopps came home in high feather. He had seen Leonard, and had spent two hours with him. 11_ v“..._.._ __...--- 283 DR SANDERSON’S THEORY man now threw ofl' his reserve, and said that in his opinion Mr Charlesworth would eventually recover his speech. “And what a revelation there will be when he does!” said Mrs Hopps. “We shall know all that passed between him and Williams that terrible night; then, I guess, Williams will feel queer about it, don’t you?” “I guess, my dear, that it will not be well to let Williams know that there is any prospect of it,” said Mr Hopps. “If things are as you and Klootz think— namely, that Williams did maliciously operate on our poor friend’s brain—why, it will be best to allow Williams to remain in ignorance of Klootz’s favourable opinion. A man who could do a trick of that sort would stop at nothing.” Accordingly, when Mr Hopps returned to Danesford, and duly met Drs Williams and Sanderson, he wore a long face and shook his head in answer to their in- terrogations. “He’s with Klootz,” said Mr Hopps, “and they tell me that Klootz is the 287 THE INVESTIGATORS first man of the day in this sort of thing.” “That is so,” answered Dr Williams. “Klootz is the man. And what does Klootz say?” “ Klootz says nothing,” said Mr Hopps. “Shakes his head and looks gloomy. Poor old Leonard! Don’t say anything to Agatha, or to my wife, you know, but really the poor chap looks like a lunatic. Talks utter rubbish and writes gibberish. Calls a flowera ‘picture,’ and wrote down some unintelligible jargon instead of his own name.” “Has there been word-deafness and word-blindness in addition to the aphasia and agraphia?” asked Dr Williams. “Don’t ask me,” said Mr Hopps. “I don’t know. Seems to me that the poor chap’s mentally gone altogether.” “I have thought a good deal about this case,” said Dr Sanderson, turning to Dr Williams, “ and it seems to me there is some prospect of a re- covery.” “Indeed?” said Dr W’illiams. “You 288 THE INVESTIGATORS “That injury was certainly caused by the fall,” said Dr Sanderson. “I have seen one case in which the symptoms increased slowly, but that, I think, was due to hemorrhage from or about the posterior terminal branches of the middle cerebral artery, supplying the superior temporo-sphenoidal and superior marginal convolutions. The first symptom in that case was a faulty word-memory, which seemed to me to indicate a small lesion affecting the superior temporo-sphenoidal convolution. From that the symptoms spread to aphasia, agraphia, word-deafness and word-blindness. Now in Mr Charles- worth’s case the symptoms were certainly induced by the violent fall, which must have caused some injury to the third left frontal convolution. The question in my mind is as to whether it is not possible that the right portion of the brain may not in time assume the functions of the left, the patient being a strong, healthy man?” “I will think it over,” said Dr Williams, and left them, apparently in deep thought. »W% 190 CHAPTER XXVI THE END OF ALL THE summer months dragged themselves slowly away, and Agatha more than once remarked to Hermione that her second summer at Danesford was by no means so enjoyable as the first. “It was all so delightful,” she said, looking back over the events of that eventful time; “there was my coming home to England, and meeting Leonard, and there was our outdoor life—the tennis and the cricket, and all that, and then you came, Hermione, and everything was pleasant. And now, how different it all is!” “ But there were some unpleasant things even then,” said Mrs Hopps. “Ch, of course, there was poor Mr 294 THE END OF ALL to make a man’s blood run cold. Just listen to him now.” The two men pressed forward into the study. Prepared, as they were, for some uncanny sight, both felt startled when they set eyes on Dr Williams. That he was mad they saw as soon as they entered the room. His face was pale and drawn, his eyes glittered fiercely, he paced the floor with long strides, talking to himself in a quick, loud voice. As Sanderson and Hopps entered he turned, and, looking at them, hesitated for a moment before he came forward with outstretched hands. “Ah, welcome, welcome!” said he. “Welcome, my friends. Two such dis- tinguished savants are indeed welcome at this moment. I am just concluding a most important experiment. Truly wonderful— nothing less than the substitution of—but let us sit down, and we will converse in due course. You are just over from Berlin, I think? No, from Paris. There are clever men in both centres, but they will acknowledge me their master in more than one direction. If I could only sleep I 299 THE IN VESTIGATORS there has been a little gentleman in yellow clothes hanging about me during the last few days, who tells me that my experiment failed. Failed! No—no, I won’t believe it. It can't fail, I tell you. If you injure the third left frontal—” At that moment the three men heard a voice outside the half-open door. Each recognised it—the madman and the two sane men whose nerves were strung to their highest tension. Each sprang to his feet and faced the doorway. And there they saw Leonard, grave and stern, but in full possession of all his senses and faculties, and behind him stood Dr Klootz, curious and eager. Williams sprang forward. For a second his reason flashed back to him. He stretched out his arms. “Speak!” he cried. “The experi- ment—?” “It has failed,” said Leonard. “I am cured.” The man before him seemed to shrink and shiver. Suddenly he laid his hand to his breast with a convulsive movement. 302