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crie
the
ightened his grip on
(Fr01n'i:fi:ce.)
“ ‘ Look out,' d the detective, ‘ or you will get yourself into trouble,' and he t
old creature's arm.—(Page 43.)


HAND AND RING
BY
ANNA KATHARINE GREEN -MFPJ
AUTHoR or “nu: LIAVENW0RTH CASE," “.rm: swonn or mmocr.:.s-" "1""B
mmmcz or "ma munz," a'rc.. :1.c.
" For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak with m05t mi"°“1°“3
°rg.n.n
G. P. P'UTNAM'S SONS
NEW YORK! 27 k 29 WEST 231) STREET
LONDON: 25 HENRIETTA.STREET, covnnr GARDEN
1883


.'.. ...pp.-.-.-...-..‘,-
CorvRrcHr BY
ANNA KATHARINE GREEN
1883
Prn: qf
G. P. Putnam': Sun:
Nnu Yark





In compliance with current
copyright law, the University
of Minnesota Bindery
produced this facsimile on
permanent.durable paper to
replace the irreparably
deteriorated original volume
owned by the University of
Minnesota Library. 2007


LIST’ OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGI
“ ‘Look out,' cried the detective, ‘ or you will get yourself into
trouble,' and he tightened his grip on the old creature's
arm."
. F70”/i.)}7it£t
“ Taking her hand in his, he looked at her long and search-
ingly. ‘Imogene,' he exclaimed, ‘there is something
weighing on your heart.' " . . . . . 58
“ He paused, sick and horror.stricken. Her face had risen
upon him from the back of the chair, and was staring at
him like that of a Medusa." . . . . . . 252
Diagram 364
W “ The curtains parted and disclosed the form of Imogene. ‘ I
am coming,' she murmured, and stepped forth." . . 402


- -
.
-.,;.,_.
‘.» -.jg .'.-;
No'l-8.—A portion of these illustrations originally flppgirgd in 1.",.4"; L‘;15;'; 111,,;;,.“,4
Nnvqqpcr, and have been used in this volume through the courtesy of Mrs. Leslie.
..n 9 .--j""





CONTENT&
BOOK Z
C3A".R|; THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. PAGE
I. A Startlixig Coincidence . . . . . I
II. An Appeal to Heaven . . . . . . I7
III. The Unfinished Letter . . . . . 31
IV. Imogene . . . . . . . . 49
V. Horace Byrd . . . . . . . 67
VI. The Skill of an Artist . . . . . . 85
VII. Miss Firman . . . . . . . 95
VIII. The Thick.set Man . . . - - . I15
IX. Close Calculations . . . . . . I28 ‘
X. The Final Test . . . . . . . I46
XI. Decision. . . . . . . . . 162
BOOK II.
THE WEAVING OF A WEB.
XII. The Spider . . . . . . . . I68
XIII. The Fly . . . . . . . . 175
XIV. A Last Attempt . . . . . . . I89
XV. The End of a Tortuous Path . . . . . I99
XVI. Storm . . . . . . . . . 205
XVII. A Surprise . . . . . . . . 2x3
XVIII. A Brace of Detectives . . . . . . 214
XIX. Mr. Ferris . . . . . .. . . 233
XX. A Crisis . . . . . . . . 245
XXI. A Heart's Martyrdom . . . . . . 258
XXII. Craik Mansell . . . . . . . 264
XXIII. Mr. Orcutt . . . . . . . . 278
' XXIV. A True Bill . . . . . . . . 299
‘ XXV. Among Telescopes and Charts . . . . 306
XXVI. " He Shall Hear Me I " . . . . . 313
iii


iv
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER
XXVII.
XXVIII.
XXIX.
XXX.
XXXI.
XXXII.
' XXXIII.
XXXIV.
XXXV.
XXXVI.
XXXVII.
XXXVIII.
XXXIX.
'XL.
XLI.
XLII.
XLIII.
XLIV
BOOK III.
THE SCALES OF JUSTICE.
The Great Trial . . . . .
The Chief Witness for the Prosecution .
The Opening of the Defence
Byrd Uses his Pencil Again . .
The Chief Witness for the Defence
Hickory . . .
A Late Discovery . . . . .
What Was Hid Behind Imogene's Veil .
Pro and Con . '
A Mistake Rectifie .
Under the Great Tree .
Unexpected Words
Mr. Gryce .
In the Prison .
A Link Supplied .
Consultations
Mrs. Fix'man . .
The Widow Clemmens .
XLV.. Mr. Gryce Says Good.bye
l..


HAND AND RING.
BOOK I.
THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO.
i
I.
A STARTLING COINCIDENCE.
By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes.
—MACBBTH.
HE town clock of Sibley had just struck twelve.
Court had adjourned, and Judge Evans, with
one or two of the leading lawyers of the county, stood
in the door.way of the court.house discussing in a
friendly way the eccentricities of criminals as developed
in the case then before the court. Mr. Lord had just
ventured the assertion that crime as a fine art was
happily confined to France; to which District Attorney
Ferris had replied :
“And why? Because atheism has not yet acquired
such a hold upon our upper classes that gentlemen
think it possible to meddle with such matters. It is
only when a student, a doctor, a lawyer, determines
to put aside from his path the secret stumbling.block
I


2 HAND AND RING.
to his desires or his ambition that the true intellectual
crime is developed. That brute whom you see slouch-
ing along over the way is the type of the average
criminal of the day."
And he indicated with a nod a sturdy, ill.favored man,
who, with pack on his back, was just emerging from
a grassy lane that opened out from the street directly
opposite the court.house.
“Such men are often seen in the dock," remarked
Mr. Orcutt, of more than local reputation as a criminal
lawyer. “ And often escape the penalty of their crimes,"
he added, watching, with a curious glance, the lowering
brow and furtive look of the man who, upon perceiving
the attention he had attracted, increased his pace till he
almost broke into a run.
“Looks as if he had been up to mischief," observed
Judge Evans.
“ Rather as if he had heard the sentence which was
passed upon the last tramp who paid his respects to
this town," corrected Mr. Lord. .
“ Rezzenonr 12 nos mauz‘ons,". resumed the District Attor-
ney. “ Crime, as an investment, does not pay in this
country. The regular burglar leads a dog's life of it ;
and when you come to the murderer, how few escape
suspicion if they do the gallows. I do not know of a case
where a murder for money has been really successful in
this region."
“ Then you must have some pretty cute detective work


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 3
going on here," remarked a young man who had not be-
fore spoken.
“ No, no—nothing to brag of. But the brutes are so
clumsy—that is the word, clumsy. They don't know how
to cover up their tracks." . .
“ The smart ones don't make tracks," interposed a
rough voice near them, and a large, red.haired, slightly
hump.backed man, who, from the looks of those about,
was evidently a stranger in the place, shuffled forward
from the pillar against which he had been leaning, and
took up the thread of conversation.
“ I tell you,” he continued, in a gruff tone somewhat
out of keeping with the studied abstraction of his keen,
gray eye, “ that half the criminals are caught because they
do make tracks and then resort to such extraordinary
means to cover them up. The true secret of success in
this line lies in striking your blow with a weapon picked
up on the spot, and in choosing for the scene of your trag-
edy a thoroughfare where, in the natural course of events,
other men will come and go and unconsciously tread out
your traces, provided you have made any. This dissi-
pates suspicion, or starts it in so many directions that
justice is at once confused, if not ultimately baffled.
Look at that house yonder," the stranger pursued, point-
ing to a plain dwelling on the opposite corner. “ While
we have been standing here, several persons of one kind
or another, and among them a pretty rough.looking tramp,
have gone into the side gate and so around to the kitchen


4 HAND AND RING.
-?.__--_ '1.-.-
door and back. I don't know who lives there, but say it
is a solitary old woman above keeping help, and that an
hour from now some one, not finding her in the house,
searches through the garden and comes upon her lying
dead behind the wood.pile, struck down by her own axe.
On whom are you going to lay your hand in suspicion ?
On the stranger, of course—the rough.looking tramp
that everybody thinks is ready for bloodshed at the
least provocation. But suspicion is not conviction, and I
would dare wager that no court, in face of a persistent
denial on his part that he even saw the old woman when
he went to her door, would bring in a verdict of murder
against him, even though silver from her private drawer
were found concealed upon his person. The chance that he
spoke the truth, and that she was not in the house when he
entered, and that his crime had been merely one of bur-
glary or theft, would be enough to save him from the
hangman."
“ That is true," assented Mr. Lord, “ unless all the
other persons who had been seen to go into the yard were
not only reputable men, but were willing to testify to hav-
ing seen the woman alive up to the time he invaded her
premises."
But the hump.backed stranger had already lbunged
away. .
“ What do you think about this, Mr. Byrd ? " inquired
the District Attorney, turning to the young man before al-
luded to. “You are an expert in these matters, or


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. S
ought to be. What would you give for the tramp's
chances if the detectives took him in hand?"
“ I, sir ?" was the response. “ I am so comparatively
young and inexperienced in such affairs, that I scarcely
dare presume to express an opinion. But I have heard
it said by Mr. Gryce, who you know stands .foremost
among the detectives of New York, that the only case of
murder in which he utterly failed to get any clue to work
upon, was that of a ]ew who was knocked down in his
own shop in broad daylight. But this will not appear so
strange when you learn the full particulars. The store
was situated between two alley.ways in Harlem. It had
an entrance back and an entrance front. Both were in
constant- - use. The-man.was found behind his counter,
having evidently been hit on the head by a slung.shot
while reaching for a box of hosiery. But though a suc-
cession of people were constantly passing by both. doors,
there was for that very reason no one to tell which of all
the men who were observed to enter the shop, came. out
again with blood upon his conscience. Nor were the cir-
cumstances of the ]ew's life such as to assist justice. The
most careful investigation failed to disclose the existence
of any enemy, nor was he found to possess in this coun-
try, at least, any relative who could have hoped to be
benefited by the few dollars he had saved from a late
bankruptcy. The only conclusion to be drawn-is that the
man was secretly in the way of some one and was as
secretly put out of it, but for what purpose or by Whose
hand, time has never disclosed."


6 HAND AND RING.
“There is one, however, who knows both," affirmed
]udge Evans, impressively.
“ The man himself? "
“ God ! ”
The solemnity with which this was uttered caused a
silence, during which Mr. Orcutt looked at his watch.
“I must go to dinner,” he announced, withdrawing,
with a slight nod, across the street.
The rest stood for a few minutes abstractedly contem-
plating his retreating figure, as with an energetic pace all
his own he passed down the little street that opened op-
posite to where they stood, and entered the unpretending
cottage of a widow lady, with whom he was in the habit
of taking his mid.day meal whenever he had a case before
the court.
A lull was over the whole village, and the few remain-
ing persons on the court.house steps were about to sep-
arate, when Mr. Lord uttered an exclamation and pointed
to the cottage into which they had just seen Mr. Orcutt
disappear. Immediately all eyes looked that way and
saw the lawyer standing on the stoop, having evidently
issued with the utmost precipitation from the house.
“ He is making signs," cried Mr. Lord to Mr. Ferris;
and scarcely knowing what they feared, both gentlemen
crossed the way and hurried down the street toward
their friend, who, with unusual tokens of disturbance in
his manner, ran forward to meet them.
“A murder!” he excitedly exclaimed, as soon as he


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 7
came within speaking distance. “ A strange and startling
coincidence. Mrs. Clemmens has been struck on the
head, and is lying covered with blood at the foot of her
dining.room table."
Mr. Lord and the District Attorney stared at each
other in a maze of surprise and horror easily to be com-
prehended, and then they rushed forward.
“Wait a moment," the latter suddenly cried, stopping
short and looking back. “Where is the fellow who talked
so learnedly about murder and the best way of making a
success of it. He must be found at once. I don't be-
lieve in coincidences." And he beckoned to the person
they had called Byrd, who with very pardonable curiosity
was hurrying their way. “ Go find Hunt, the constable,"
he cried; “tell him to stop and retain the humpback.
A woman here has been found murdered, and that fellow
must have known something about it."
The young man stared, flushed with sudden intelli-
gence, and darted off. Mr. Ferris turned, found Mr.
Orcutt still at his side, and drew him forward to rejoin
Mr. Lord, who by this time was at the door of the
cottage.
They all went in together, Mr. Ferris, who was of an
adventurous disposition, leading the way. The room
into which they first stepped was empty. It was evidently
the widow's sitting.room, and was in perfect order, with
the exception of Mr. Orcutt's hat, which lay on the centre-
tab1e.where he.had laid it on entering. Neat, without


8 HAND AND RING.
being prim, the entire aspect of the place was one of
comfort, ease, and modest luxury. For, though the
Widow Clemmens lived alone and Without help, She was
by no means an indigent person, as a single glance at her
house would show. The door leading into the farther
room was open, and toward this they hastened, led by
the' glitter of the fine old china service which loaded the
dining.table.
“ She is there," said Mr. Orcutt, pointing to the other
side of .the room.
They immediately passed behind the table, and there,
sure enough, lay the prostrate figure of the widow, her
head bleeding, her arms extended, one hand grasping her
watch, which she had loosened from her belt, the other
stretched toward a stick of firewood, that, from the mark
of blood upon its side, had evidently been used to fell
her to the floor. She was motionless as stone, and was,
to all appearance, dead.
“ Sickening, sickening !—horrible ! ” exclaimed Mr.
Lord, recoiling upon the District Attorney with a gesture,
as if he would put the frightful object out of his sight.
“What motive could any one have for killing such an in-
offensive woman? The deviltry of man is beyond
belief!"
“ And after what we have heard, inexplicable," asserted
Mr. Ferris. “ To be told of a supposable case of murder
one minute, and then to see it exemplified in this dread-
ful way the next, is an experience of no common order.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 9
I own I am overcome by it." And he flung open a door
that communicated with the lane and let the'outside air
sweep in.
“ That door was unlocked," remarked Mr. Lord,
glancing at Mr. Orcutt, who stood with severe, set face,
looking down at the outstretched form.which, for several
years now, had so often sat opposite to him at his noonday
meal.
With a start the latter looked up. “ What did you say?
The door unlocked? There is nothing strange in that.
'She never locked her doors, though she was so very deaf
I often advised her to." And he allowed his eyes to run
over the wide stretch of low, uncultivated ground before
him, that, in the opinion of many persons, was such a de-
cided blot upon the town. “ There is no one in sight," he
reluctantly admitted.
“ No," responded the other. “ The ground is unfavor-
able for escape. It is marshy and covered with snake
. grass. A man could make his way, however, between
the hillocks into those woods yonder, if he were driven by
fear or understood the path well. What is the matter,
Orcutt ?" .
“ Nothing," affirmed the latter,—“ nothing, I thought I
heard a groan."
“ You heard me make an exclamation," spoke. up Mr.
Ferris, who by this time had sufliciently overcome his
emotion to lift the head of the prostrate woman and look
in her face. “This woman is not dead."


10 HAND AND RING.
“ What ! ” they both cried, bounding forward.
“ See, she breathes," continued the former, pointing to
her slowly laboring chest. “ The villain, whoever he was,
did not do his work well ; she may be able to tell us some-
thing yet."
“I do not think so," murmured Mr. Orcutt. “ Such a
blow as that must have destroyed her faculties, if not her
life. It was of cruel force."
“ However that may be, she ought to be taken care
of now," cried Mr. -Ferris. “ I wish Dr. Tredwell was
here."
"‘ I will go for him,” signified the other.
But it was not necessary. Scarcely had the lawyer
turned to execute this mission, when a sudden murmur
was heard at the door, and a dozen or so citizens burst
into the house, among them the very person --named.
Being coroner as well as physician, he at once assumed
authority. The widow was carried into her room, which
was on the same floor, and a brother practitioner sent for,
who took his place at her head and waited for any sign of
returning consciousness. The crowd, remanded to the
yard, spent their time alternately in furtive questionings
of each other's countenances, and in eager lookout for
the expected return of the strange young man who had
been sent after the incomprehensible humpback of
whom all had heard. The coroner, closeted with the
District Attorney in the dining.room, busied himself in
noting certain evident facts.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. II
“I am, perhaps, forestalling my duties in interfering
before the woman is dead," intimated the former. “ But
it is only a matter of a few hours, and any facts we can
glean in the interim must be of value to a proper con-
duct of the inquiry I shall be called upon to hold. I
shall therefore make the same note of the position of af-
fairs as I would do if she were dead ; and to begin with,
I wish you to observe that she was hit while setting the
clock." And he pointed to the open door of the huge
old.fashioned timepiece which occupied that corner of
the room in which she had been found. “ She had not
even finished her task," he next remarked, “for the
clock is still ten minutes slow, while her watch is just
right, as you will see by comparing it with your own.
She was attacked from behind, and to all appearances un-
expectedly. Had she turned, her forehead would have
been struck, while, as all can see, it is the back of her head
that has suffered, and that from a right.hand blow.
Her deafness was undoubtedly the cause of her immo-
bility under the approach of such an assailant. She
did not hear his step, and, being so busily engaged, saw
nothing of the cruel hand uplifted to destroy her. I
doubt if she even knew what happened. The mystery is
that any one could have sufiiciently desired her death to
engage in such a cold.blooded butchery. If plunder
were wanted, why was not her watch taken from her?
And see, here is a pile of small change lying beside her
' plate on the table,—a thing a tramp would make for at
once."


I2 0 I...IAND AND RING.
“It was not a. thief that struck her."
“Well, well, we don't know. I have my own theory,"
admitted the coroner; “ but, of course, it will not do for
me to mention it here. The stick was taken from that
pile laid ready on the hearth," he went on. “ Odd, sig-
nificantly odd, that in all its essential details this affair
should tally so completely with the supposable case of
crime given a moment before by the deformed wretch
you tell me about."
“ Not if that man was a madman and the assailant,"
suggested the District Attorney.
“ True, but I do not think he was mad—not from what
you have told me. But let us see what the commotion is.
Some one has evidently arrived."
It was Mr. Byrd, who had entered by the front door,
and deaf to the low murmur of the impatient crowd
without, stood waiting in silent patience for an oppor-
tunity to report to the District Attorney the results of his
efforts.
Mr. Ferris at once welcomed him. .
“What have you done? Did you find the constable
or succeed in laying hands on that scamp of a hump-
back ? "
Mr. Byrd, who, to explain at once, was a young and
intelligent detective, who had been brought from New
York for purposes connected with the case then before
the court, glanced carefully in the direction of the coro-
ner and quietly replied :
.. -__-i__-_..._i-.__.Q-__-1


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I3
“The hump.backed scamp, as you call him, has dis-
appeared. Whether he will be found or not I cannot
say. Hunt is on his track, and will report to you
in an hour. The tramp whom you saw slinking out
of this street while we stood on the court.house steps-
is doubtless the man whom you most want, and him
we have captured."
“You have?" repeated Mr. Ferris, eying, with good-
natured irony, the young man's gentlemanly but rather
indifferent face. “ And what makes you think it is the
tramp who is the guilty one in this case ? Because that
ingenious stranger saw fit to make him such a prominent
figure in his suppositions ?"
“ No, sir," replied the detective, flushing with a mo-
mentary embarrassment he however speedily overcame;
“ I do not found my opinions upon any man's remarks.

I only Excuse me," said he, with a quiet air of self-
control that was not without its effect upon the sensible
man he was addressing. “ If you will tell me how, where,
and under what circumstances this poor murdered woman
was found, perhaps I shall be better able to explain my
reasons for believing in the tramp as the guilty party;
though the belief, even of a detective, goes for but little
in matters of this kind, as you and these other gentlemen
very well know."
“ Step here, then," signified Mr. Ferris, who, accom-
panied by the coroner, had already passed around the
table. “Do you see that clock? She was winding it


:4 ' HAND AND RING.
when she was struck, and fell almost at its foot. The
weapon which did the execution lies over there; it is a
stick of firewood, as you see, and was caught up from
that pile on the hearth. Now recall what that humpback
said about choosing a thoroughfare for a murder (and
this house is a thoroughfare), and the peculiar stress
which he laid upon the choice of a weapon, and tell me
why you think he is innocent of this immediate and most
remarkable exemplification of his revolting theory ? ”
“Let me first ask," ventured the other, with a remain-
ing tinge of embarrassment coloring his cheek, Z‘ if you
have reason to think this woman had been lying long
where she was found, or was she struck soon before the
discovery?"
“ Soon. The dinner was still smoking in the kitchen,
where it had been dished up ready for serving."
“ Then," declared the detective with sudden con-
fidence, “ a single word will satisfy you that the humpback
To lay that
woman low at the foot of this clock would require the
was not the man who delivered this stroke.
presence of the assailant in the room. Now, the hump-
back was not here this morning, but in the court.room. I
know this, for I saw him there."
“You did? You are sure of that?" cried, in a breath,
both his hearers, somewhat taken aback by this revelation.
“ Yes. He sat down by the door. I noticed him par-
ticularly."
“ Humph ! that is odd," quoth Mr. Ferris, with the
H— ._. _€_l..-.___.___ ..


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. t5
testiness of an irritable man who sees himself contradicted
in a publicly expressed theory.
“Very odd," repeated the coroner; “so odd, I am
inclined to think he did not sit there every moment of
the time. It is but a step from the court.house here ; he .
might well have taken the trip and returned while you
wiped your eye.glasses or was otherwise engaged."
Mr. Byrd did not see fit to answer this.
“ The tramp is an ugly.looking customer," he remarked,
in what was almost a careless tone of voice. '
Mr. Ferris covered with his hand the pile of loose
change that was yet lying on the table, and shortly ob-
served:
“A tramp to commit such a crime must be actuated
either by rage or cupidity; that you will acknowledge.
Now the fellow who struck this woman could not have
been excited by any sudden anger, for the whole position
of her body when found proves that she had not even
turned to face the intruder, much less engaged in an
altercation with him. Yet how could it have been money
he was after, when a tempting bit like this remained un-
disturbed upon the table ?"
And Mr. Ferris, with a sudden gesture, disclosed to
view the pile of silver coin he had been concealing.
The young detective shook his head but lost none of
his seeming indifference. “That is one of the little
anomalies of criminal experience that we were talking
about this morning," he remarked. “ Perhaps the fellow


I6 HAND AND RING.
was frightened and lost his head, or perhaps he really
heard some one at the door, and was obliged to escape
without reaping any of the fruits of his crime."
“ Perhaps and perhaps," retorted Mr. Ferris, who was
a quick man, and who, once settled in a belief, was not to
be easily shaken out of it.
“ However that may be," continued Mr. Byrd, without
seeming to notice the irritating interruption, ‘.‘ I still think
that the tramp, rather than the humpback, will be the
man to occupy your future attention."
And with a deprecatory bow to both gentlemen, he
drew back and quietly left the room.
Mr. Ferris at once recovered from his momentary loss
of temper.
“ I suppose the young man is right," he acknowledged ;
“but, if so, what an encouragement we have received this
morning to a belief in clairvoyance." And with less
irony and more conviction, he added : “ The humpback
must have known something about the murder."
And the coroner bowed ; common.sense undoubtedly
agreeing with this assumption. '


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I7.
II.
AN APPEAL TO HEAVEN.
Her step was roya.l—queen.like.—Lononn.Low.
T was now half.past one. An hour and a half had
I elapsed since the widow had been laid upon her bed,
and to all appearance no change had taken place in her
condition. Within the room where she lay were collected
the doctor and one or two neighbors of the female sex,
who watched every breath she drew, and stood ready to
notice the slightest change in the stony face that, dim with
the shadow of death, stared upon them from the un-
ruffled pillows. In the sitting.room Lawyer Orcutt con-
versed in asubdued voice with Mr. Ferris, in regard to
such incidents of the widow's life as had come under his
notice in the years of their daily companionship, while
the crowd about the gate vented their interest in loud ex-
clamations of wrath against the tramp who had been
found, and the unknown humpback who had not. Our
story leads us into the crowd in front.
“I don't think she'll ever come to," said one, who
from his dusty coat might have been a miller. “ Blows
like that have 'nt much let.up about them."
“ Doctor says she will die before morning," put in a
pert young miss, anxious to have her voice heard.


18 HAND AND RING.
“ Then it will be murder and no mistake, and that
brute of a tramp will hang as high as Haman."
“ Don't condemn a man before you 've had a chance to
hear what he has to say for himself," cried another in a
strictly judicial tone. “ How do you know as he came to
this house at all? "
“ Miss Perkins says he did, and Mrs. Phillips too ; they
saw him go into the gate."
“And what else did they see ? I warrant he was n't the
only beggar that was roaming round this morning."
“ No ; there was a tin peddler in the street, for I saw
him my own self, and Mrs. Clemmens standing in the
door flourishing her broom at him. She was mighty short
with such folks. Would n't wonder if some of the unholy
wretches killed her out of spite. They 're a wicked lot,
the whole of them."
“ Widow Clemmens had a quick temper, but she had a
mighty good heart notwithstanding. See how kind she
was to them Hubbells." ‘
“And how hard she was to that Pratt girl."
“Well, I know, but——" And so on and so on, in a
hum and a buzz about the head of Mr. Byrd, who, en-
gaged in thought seemingly far removed from the subject
in hand, stood leaning against the fence, careless and in-
souziant. Suddenly there was a lull, then a short cry,
then a woman's voice rose clear, ringing, and command-
ing, and Mr. Byrd caught the following words :
“ What is this I hear? Mrs. Clemmens dead ? Struck
. NV A-_ .___._ ‘ ______-__.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I9
down by some wandering tramp? Murdered and in her
own house ? "
In an instant, every eye, including Mr. Byrd's, was
fixed upon the speaker. The crowd parted, and the
young girl, who had spoken from the street, came into
the gate. She was a remarkable.looking person. Tall,
large, and majestic in every proportion of an unusually
noble figure, she was of a make and possessed a bearing
to attract attention had she borne a less striking and
beautiful countenance. As it was, the glance lingered
but a moment on the grand curves and lithe loveliness of
that matchless figure, and passed at once to the face.
Once there, it did not soon wander ; for though its beauty
was incontestable, the something that lay behind that
beauty was more incontestable still, and held you, in spite
of yourself, long after you had become acquainted with
the broad white brow, the clear, deep, changing gray eye,
the straight but characteristic nose, and the ruddy, ner-
vous lip. You felt that, young and beautiful as she Was,
and charming as she might be, she was also one of
nature's unsolvable mysteries—a woman whom you might
study, obey, adore, but whom you could never hope to
understand; a Sphinx without an CEdipus. She was
dressed in dark green, and held her gloves in her hand.
Her appearance was that of one who had been pro-
foundly startled.
“Why don't some one answer me?” she asked, after
an instant's pause, seemingly unconscious that, alike to


20 HAND AND RING.
.-|I|F
those who knew her and to those who did not, her air and
“ Must
I go into the house in order to find out if this good
manner were such as to naturally impose silence.
woman is dead or not ? "
“ Shure she is n't dead yet," spoke up a brawny butch-
er.boy, bolder than the rest.
and the doctors say as how there is no hope."
“ But she 's sore hurt, miss,
A change impossible to understand passed over the
girl's face. Had she been less vigorous of body, she
would have staggered. As it was, she stood still, rigidly
still, and seemed to summon up her faculties, till the very
clinch of her fingers spoke of the strong control she was
putting upon herself.
“It is dreadful, dreadful!” shemurmured, this time
in a whisper, and as if to some rising protest in her own
Then, as if
awakening to the scene about her, shook her head and
soul. “ No good can come of it, none."
cried to those nearest: “It was a tramp who did it, I
suppose ; at least, I am told so."
“ A tramp has been took up, miss, on suspicion, as they
call it."
“If a tramp has been taken up on suspicion, then he
I
was the one who assailed her, of course.' And pushing
on through the crowd that fell back still more awe.struck
than before, she went into the house.
The murmur that followed her was subdued but uni.‘
versal. It made no impression on Mr. Byrd. He had
leaned forward to watch the girl's retreating form, but,
¢


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 21
finding his view intercepted by the wrinkled profile of
an old crone who had leaned forward too, had drawn
impatiently back. Something in that crone's aged face
made him address her.
“You know the lady?" he inquired.
“ Yes," was the cautious reply, given, however, with a'
leer he found not altogether pleasant.
“ She is a relative of the injured woman, or a friend,
perhaps?" '
The old woman's face looked frightful.
“ No," she muttered grimly ; “they are strangers."
At this unexpected response Mr. Byrd made a per-
ceptible start forward. The old woman's hand fell at
once on his arm.
“Stay!” she hoarsely whispered. “By strangers I
mean they don't visit each other. The town is too small
for any of us to be strangers."
Mr. Byrd nodded and escaped her clutch.
“ This is worth seeing through," he murmured, with
the first gleam of interest he had shown in the affair.
And, hurrying forward, he succeeded in following the
lady into the house.
The sight he met there did not tend to allay his new-
born interest. There she stood in the centre of the sit-
ting.room, tall, resolute, and commanding, her eyes fixed
on the door of the room that contained the still breathing
sufferer, Mr. Orcutt's eyes fixed upon her. It seemed
as if she had asked one question and been answered;
there had not been time for more.


22 HAND AND RING.
“ I do not know what to say in apology for my intru-
sion," she remarked. “But the death, or almost the
death, of a person of whom we have all heard, seems to

me so terrible that
But here Mr. Orcutt interrupted gently, almost tender-
ly, but with a fatherly authority- which Mr. Byrd expect-
ed to see her respect.
“Imogene," he observed, “this is no place for you;
the horror of the event has made you forget yourself ; go
home and trust me to tell you on my return all that it is
advisable for you to know."
But she did not even meet his glance with her steady
eyes. “Thank you," she protested; “ but I cannot go
till I have seen the place where this woman fell and the
weapon with which she was struck. I want to see it all.
Mr. Ferris, will you show me? '.' And without giving
any reason for this extraordinary request, she stood wait-
ing with that air of conscious authority which is some-
times given by great beauty when united to a distin-
guished personal presence.
The District Attorney, taken aback, moved toward -the
dining.room door. “I will consult with the coroner,"
said he.
But she waited for no man's leave. Following close '
behind him, she entered upon the scene of the tragedy.
“ Where was the poor woman hit?" she inquired.
They told her; they showed her all she desired and
asked her no questions. She awed them, all but Mr.
Orcutt—him she both astonished and alarmed.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 23
“ And a tramp did all this ? ” she finally exclaimed, in
the odd, musing tone she had used once before, while her
eye fell thoughtfully to the floor. Suddenly she started,
or so Mr. Byrd fondly imagined, and moved a pace, set-
ting her foot carefully down upon a certain spot in the
carpet beneath her.
“She has spied something," he thought, and watched
to see if she would stoop.
But no, she held herself still more erectly than before,
and seemed, by her rather desultory inquiries, to be
striving to engage the attention of the others from herself.
“There is some one surely tapping at this door," she
intimated, pointing to the one that opened into the lane.
Dr. Tredwell moved to see.
“ Is there not?" she repeated, glancing at Mr. Ferris.
He, too, turned to see.
But there was still an eye regarding her from behind
the sitting.room door, and, perceiving it, she impatiently
ceased her efforts. She was not mistaken about the
tapping. A man was at the door whom both gentlemen
seemed to know.
“I come from the tavern where they are holding this
tramp in custody," announced the new.comer in a voice
too low to penetrate into the room. “He is frightened
almost out of his wits. Seems to think he was taken. up
for theft, and makes no bones of saying that he did take -
a spoon or two from ahouse where he was let in for a
bite. He gave up the spoons and expects to go to jail,


24 HAND AND RING.
but seems to have no idea that any worse suspicion is
hanging over him. Those that stand around think he is
innocent of the murder."
“ Humph! well, we will see," ejaculated Mr. Ferris;
and, turning back, he met, with a certain sort of compla-
cence, the eyes of the young lady who had been some-
what impatiently awaiting his reappearance. “ It seems
there are doubts, after all, about the tramp being the
assailant."
The start she gave was sudden and involuntary. She
took a step forward and then paused as if hesitating.
Instantly, Mr. Byrd, who had not forgotten the small
object she had been covering with her foot, sauntered
leisurely forward, and, spying a ring on the floor where
she had been standing, unconcernedly picked it up.
She did not seem to notice him. Looking at Mr.
Ferris with eyes whose startled, if not alarmed, expression
she did not succeed in hiding from the detective, she
inquired, in a stifled voice :
“What do you mean ? What has this man been telling
you ? You say it was not the tramp. Who, then, was it ?"
“That is a question we cannot answer," rejoined Mr.
Ferris, astonished at her heat, while Lawyer Orcutt,
moving forward, attempted once more to recall her to
herself.
“Imogene,’ he pleaded,—“ Imogene, calm yourself.
This is not a matter of so much importance to you that
you need agitate yourself so violentlyin regard to it.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 25
Come home, I beseech you, and leave the affairs of justice
to the attention of those whose duty it is to look after
them."
But beyond acknowledging his well.meant interference
by a deprecatory glance, she stood immovable, looking
from Dr. Tredwell to Mr. Ferris, and back again to Dr.
Tredwell, as if she sought in their faces some confirma-
tion of a hideous doubt or fear that had arisen in her own
mind. Suddenly she felt a touch on her arm.
“Excuse me, madam, but is this yours?" inquired a
smooth and careless voice over her shoulder.
As though awakening from a dream she turned ; they
all turned. Mr. Byrd was holding out in his open palm
a ring blazing with a diamond of no mean lustre or
value.
The sight of such a jewel, presented at such a moment,
completed the astonishment of her friends. Pressing
forward, they stared at the costly ornament and then at
her, Mr. Orcutt's face especially assuming a startled
expression of mingled surprise and apprehension, that
soon attracted the attention of the others, and led to an
interchange of looks that denoted a mutual but not
unpleasant understanding.
“ I found it at your feet," explained the detective, still
carelessly, but with just that delicate shade of respect in
his voice necessary to express a gentlernan's sense of pre-
sumption in thus addressing a strange and beautiful young
lady. - . '


26 HAND AND RING.
The tone, if not the explanation, seemed to calm her,
as powerful natures are calmed in the stress of a sudden
crisis.
“ Thank you," she returned, not without signs of great
sweetness in her look and manner. “ Yes, it is mine "she
added slowly, reaching out her hand and taking the ring.
“ I must have dropped it without knowing it." And
meeting the eye of Mr. Orcutt fixed upon her with that .
startled look of inquiry already alluded to, she flushed, but
placed the jewel nonchalantly on her finger.
This cool appropriation of something he had no reason
to believe hers, startled the youthful detectiveimmeasura-
bly. He had not expected such a dénouement to the little
drama he had prepared with such quiet assurance, and,
though with the quick self.control that distinguished him
he forbore to show his surprise, he none the less felt baf-
fled and ill at ease, all the more that the two gentlemen
present, who appeared to be the most disinterested in
their regard for this young lady, seemed to accept this
act on her part as genuine, and therefore not to be ques-
tioned.
“ It is a clue that is lost," thought he. “ I have made
a mess of my first unassisted efforts at real detective
work." And, inwardly disgusted with himself, he drew
back into the other room and took up his stand at a re-
mote window.
The slight stir he made in crossing the room seemed to
break a spell and restore the minds of all present to their


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 27
proper balance. Mr. Orcutt threw off the shadow that
had momentarily disturbed his quiet and assured mien,
and advancing once more, held out his arm with even
more kindness than before, saying impressively :
“ Now you will surely consent to accompany me
home. You cannot mean to remain here any longer, can
you, Imogene? ”
But before she could reply, before her hand could lay
itself on his arm, a sudden hush like that of awe passed
solemnly through the room, and the physician, who had
been set to watch over the dying gasps of the poor suf-
ferer within, appeared on the threshold of the bedroom
door, holding up his hand with a look that at once com-
manded attention and awoke the most painful expectancy
in the hearts of all who beheld him :
“ She stirs; she moves her lips," he announced, and
again paused, listening.
Immediately there was a sound from the dimness be-
hind him, a low sound, inarticulate at first, but presently
growing loud enough and plain enough to be heard in the
utmost recesses of the furthermost room on that floor. ‘
“ Hand ! ring !" was the burden of the short ejacula-
tion they heard. “ Ring ! hand !" till a sudden gasp cut
short the fearful iteration, and all was silent again.
“ Great heavens ! ” came in an awe.struck whisper from
Mr. Ferris, as he pressed hastily toward the place from
which these words had issued.
But the physician at once stopped and silenced him.


28 HAND AND RING.
“ She may speak again," he suggested. “Wait."
But, though they listened breathlessly, and with ever-
growingsuspense, no further break occurred in the deep
silence, and soon the doctor announced :
“ She has sunk back into her old state ; she may rouse
again, and she may not."
As though released from some painful tension, the
coroner, the District Attorney, and the detective all
looked up. They found Miss 'Dare standing by the open
window, with her face turned to the landscape, and Mr.
Orcutt gazing at her with an expression of perplexity that
had almost the appearance of dismay. This look passed
instantly from the lawyer's countenance as he met the
eyes of his friends, but Mr. Byrd, who was still smarting
under a sense of his late defeat, could not but wonder
what that gentleman had seen in Miss Dare, during the
period of their late preoccupation, to call up such an ex-
pression to his usually keen and composed face.
The clinch of her white hand on the window.sill told
nothing; but when in a few moments later she turned
toward them again, Mr. Byrd saw, or thought he saw, the
last lingering remains of a great horror fading out of her
eyes, and was not surprised when she walked up to Mr.
Orcutt and said, somewhat hoarsely: “ I wish to go home
now. This place is a terrible one to be in.”
Mr. Orcutt, who was only too glad to comply with her
request, again offered her his arm. But anxious as they
evidently were to quit the house, they were not al-


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 29
lowed to do so without experiencing another shock.
]ust as they were passing the door of the room where the
wounded woman lay, the physician in attendance again
appeared before them with that silently uplifted hand.
“ Hush ! ” said he; “she stirs again. I think she is
going to speak." -
.
And once more that terrible suspense held each and
every one enthralled: once more that faint, inarticulate
murmur eddied through the house, growing gradually into
speech that this time took a form that curdled the blood
of the listeners, and made Mr. Orcutt and the young
woman at his side drop apart from each other as though
a dividing sword had passed between them.
“ May the vengance of Heaven light upon the head of
him who has brought me to this pass," were the words
that now rose ringing'and clear from that bed of death.
“May the fate that has come upon me be visited upon
him, measure for measure, blow for blow, death for
death."
Strange and awe.inspiring words, that drew a pall over
that house and made the dullest person there gasp for
breath.
could be felt—the white faces of lawyer and physician,
In the silence that followed—a silence that
coroner and detective, turned and confronted each other.
But the young lady who lingered in their midst looked at
no one, turned to no one. Shuddering and white, she
stood gazing before her as if she already beheld that retrib-
utive hand descending upon the head of the guilty; then,


.-.-4
30 HAND AND RING.
as she awoke to the silence of those around her, gave
a quick start and flashed forward to the door and so out
into the street before Mr. Orcutt could rouse himself sufli-
ciently from the stupor of the moment to follow her.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 3!
III.
THE UNFINISHED LETTER.
Faith, thou hast some crotchets in thy head now.
—MERRY WIvas or Wmnsok.
“ ‘ ‘ IOULD there be any indiscretion in my asking
who that young lady is ?" inquired Mr. Byrd
of Mr. Ferris, as, after ascertaining that the stricken suf-
ferer still breathed, they stood together in a distant corner
of the dining.room.
“ No," returned the other, in a low tone, with a glance
in the direction of the lawyer, who was just re.entering
the house, after an unsuccessful effort to rejoin the person
of whom they were speaking. “She is a Miss -Dare,
a young lady much admired in this town, and believed
by many to be on the verge of matrimony withi” He
nodded toward Mr. Orcutt, and discreetly forbore to
finish the sentence.
“Ah ! ” exclaimed the youthful detective, “I under-
stand." And he cast a look of suddenly awakened
interest at the man who, up to this time, he had merely’
regarded as a more than usually acute criminal lawyer.
He saw a small, fair, alert man, of some forty years of
'age, of a good carriage, easy manner, and refined cast of
countenance, overshadowed now by a secret anxiety


32 HAND AND RING.
he vainly tried to conceal. He was not as handsome
as Coroner Tredwell, nor as well built as Mr. Ferris, yet
he was, without doubt, the most striking.looking man in
the room, and, to the masculine eyes of the detective,
seemed at first glance to be a person to win the admira-
tion, if not the affection, of women.
“ She appears to take a great interest in this affair," he
ventured again, looking back at Mr. Ferris.
“ Yes,°that is woman's way," replied the other, lightly,
. without any hint of secret feeling or curiosity. “Be-
sides, she is an inscrutable girl, always surprising you by
her emotions—or by her lack of them," he added, dis-
missing the topic with a wave of his hand.
“Which is also woman's way," remarked Mr. Byrd, re-
tiring into his shell, from which he had momentarily
thrust his head.
“Does it not strike you that there are rather more
persons present than are necessary for the purposes of
justice?" asked the lawyer, now coming forward with
a look of rather pointed significance at the youthful
stranger. .
Mr.-Ferris at once spoke up. “Mr. Orcutt," said he,
“let me introduce to you Mr. Byrd, of New York. He
is a member of the police force, and has been rendering
me assistance in the case just adjourned."
“ A detective!” repeated the other, eying the young
man with a critical eye. “It is a pity, sir," he finally
observed, “that your present duties will not allow you


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 33
to render service to justice in this case of mys-
terious assault." And with a bow of more kindness than
Mr. Byrd had reason to look for, he went slowly back to
his former place near the door that hid the suffering
woman from sight.
However kindly expressed, Mr. Byrd felt that he had
received his dismissal, and was about to withdraw, when
the coroner, who had been absent from their midst for
the last few minutes, approached them from the foot of
the stairs, and tapped the detective on the arm.
“ I want you," said he.
Mr. Byrd bowed, and with a glance toward the District
Attorney, who returned him a nod of approval, went
quickly out with the coroner.
“ I hear you are a detective," observed the latter, tak-
ing him up stairs into a room which he carefully locked
behind them. “A detective on the spot in a case like
this is valuable ; are you willing to assume the duties of
your profession‘and act for justice in this matter ? ”'
“ Dr. Tredwell," returned the young man, instantly
conscious of a vague, inward shrinking from meddling
further in the affair, “ I am not at present master of my
proceedings. To say nothing of the obedience I owe my
superiors at home, I am just now engaged in assisting
Mr. Ferris in the somewhat pressing matter now before
. the court, and do not know whether it would meet with
his approval to have me mix up matters in this way."
.“ Mr. Ferris is a reasonable man," said‘the coroner.
“ If his consent is all that is necessary-i”


34 HAND AND RING.
“But it is not, sir. I must have orders from New
York."
“ Oh, as to that, I will telegraph at once."
But still the young man hesitated,.lounging in his
easy way against the table by which he had taken his
stand.
' “Dr. Tredwell," he suggested, “you must have men
in this town amply able to manage such a matter as this.
A woman struck in broad daylight and a man already
taken up on suspicion! 'T is simple, surely; intricate
measures are not wanted here." '
“ So you still think it is the tramp that struck her?"
quoth the coroner, a trifle bafiled by the other's careless
manner.
"I still think it was not the man who sat in court all
the morning and held me fascinated by his eye." '
“Ah, he held you fascinated, did he?" repeated the
other, a trifle suspiciously.
“Well, that is," Mr. Byrd allowed, with the least per-
ceptible loss of his easy bearing, “he made me look at
him more than once. A wandering eye always attracts
' me, and his wandered constantly."
“ Humph ! and you are sure he was in the court every
minute of the morning ? "
“ There must be other witnesses who can testify to that,"
answered the detective, with the perceptible irritation of
one weary of a subject which he feels he has already
amply discussed.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TO.I'_.EDO. 35
“ Well," declared the other, dropping his eyes from the
young man's countenance to a sheet of paper he was
holding in his hand, “whatever rfile this humpback has
played in the tragedy now occupying us, whether he be a
wizard, a secret accomplice, a fool who cannot keep his
own secret, or a traitor who cannot preserve that of his
tools, this affair, as you call it, is not likely to prove the
simple matter you seem to consider it. The victim, if not
'her townsfolk, knew she possessed an enemy, and
this half.finished letter which I have found.on her table,
raises the question whether a common tramp, with no mo-
tive but that of theft or brutal revenge, was the one to
meditate the fatal blow, even if he were the one to deal
it."
A perceptible light flickered into the eyes of Mr. Byrd,
and he glanced with a new but unmistakable interest at
the letter, though he failed to put out his hand for it, even
though the coroner held it toward him.
“Thank you," said he ; “ but if I do not take the case,
it would be better for me not to meddle any further with
it."
“ But you are going to take it," insisted the other, with
temper, his anxiety to secure this man's services increas-
ing with the opposition he so unaccountably received.
“The officers at the detective bureau in New York’ are
not going to send another man up here when there is al-
ready one on the spot. And a man from New York I am
determined to have. A crime like this shall not go


36 HAND AND RING.
' sional assistance."
unpunished in this town, whatever it may do in a great
city like yours. We don't have so many murder cases
that we need to stint ourselves in the luxury of profes-
,
“But," protested the young man, still determined to
hold back, whatever arguments might be employed or
inducements offered him, “ how do you know I am the
man for your work? We have many sorts and kinds of
detectives in our bureau. Some for one kind of busi-
ness, some for another; the following up of a criminal is
not mine."
“What, then, is yours?” asked the coroner, not yield-
ing a jot of his determination.
Th“ep detective was silent.
“Read the 1etter," persisted Dr. Tredwell, shrewdly
conscious that if once the young man's professional
instinct was aroused, all the puerile objections which
influenced him would immediately vanish.
There was no resisting that air of command. Taking
the letter in his hand, the young man read :
“DEAR EMILY :—I don't know why I sit clown to write to you
to.day. I have plenty to do, and morning is no time for indulging
in sentimentalities ; but I feel strangely lonely and strangely anxious.
Nothing goes just to my mind, and somehow the many causes for
secret fear which I have always had, assume an undue prominence in
my mind. It is always so when I am not quite well. In vain I
reason with myself, saying that respectable people do not lightly
enter into crime. But there are so many to whom my death would
be more than welcome, that I constantly see myself in the act of
being "

.nn-


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 37
“Struck, shot, murdered," suggested Dr. Tredwell,
perceiving the young man's eye lingering over the broken
sentence.
“The words are not there," remonstrated Mr. Byrd;
but the tone of his voice showed that his professional
complacency had been disturbed at last.
The other did not answer, but waited with the wisdom
of the trapper who sees the quarry nosing round the
toils. '
“There is evidently some family mystery," the young
. man continued, glancing again at the letter. “ But," he
. remarked, “ Mr. Orcutt is a good friend of hers, and can
probably tell us what it all means."
“Very likely," the other admitted, “if we choose to
ask him." '
Quick as lightning the young man's glance flashed to
the coroner's face.
“ You would rather not put the question to him ?" he
inquired.
“ N0. As he is the lawyer who, in all probability, will
be employed by the criminal in this case, I am sure he
would rather not be mixed up in any preliminary investi-
gation of the affair."
The young man's eye did not waver. He appeared to
take a secret resolve.
“ Has it not struck you," he insinuated, “that Mr.
Orcutt might have other reasons for not wishing to give
any expression of opinion in regard to it ?"


38 HAND AND RING.
The surprise in the coroner's eye was his best answer.
“ No," he rejoined. -
_
Mr. Byrd at once resumed all his old nonchalance.
“ The young lady who was here appeared to show such
agitated interest in this horrible crime, I thought that, in
kindness to her, he might wish to keep out of the affair as
much as possible."
“ Miss Dare ? Bless your heart, she would not restrict
him in any way. Her interest in the matter is purely one
of curiosity. It has been carried, perhaps, to a some-
what unusual length for a woman of her position and
breeding. But that is all, I assure you. Miss Dare's
eccentricities are well known in this town."
“ Then the diamond ring was really hers? " Mr. Byrd
was about to inquire, but stopped ; something in his
memory of this beautiful woman made it impossible for
him to disturb the confidence of the coroner in her behalf,
at least while his own doubts were so vague and shadowy.
The coroner, however, observed the/young detective's
hesitation, and smiled. /
“Are you thinking of Miss Dare as having any thing to
do with this shocking a'ffair ?" he asked.
Mr. Byrd shook his head, but could not hide the flush
that stole up over his forehead.
The coroner actually laughed, a low, soft, decorous
laugh, but none the less one of decided amusement.
“Your line is not in the direction of spotting criminals,
I must allow," said he. “Why, Miss Dare is not only as


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 39
irreproachable a young lady as we have in this town, but
she is a perfect stranger to this woman and all her con-
cerns. I doubt if she even knew her name till to.day."
A laugh is often more potent than argument. The
face of the detective lighted up, and he looked very.
manly and very handsome as he returned the letter to
the coroner, saying, with a sweep of his hand as if he
tossed an unworthy doubt away forever:
“Well, I do not wish to appear obstinate. If this
woman dies, and the inquest fails to reveal who her
assailant is, I will apply to New York for leave to work
up the case ; that is, if you continue to desire my assist-
I!
ance. Meanwhile

“ You will keep your eyes open," intimated the coroner,
taking back the letter and putting it carefully away in
his breast.pocket. “And now, mum ! " .
Mr. Byrd bowed, and they went together down the
stairs.
It was by this time made certain that the dying woman
was destined to linger on for some hours. She was com-
pletely unconscious, and her breath barely lifted the
clothes that lay over the slowly laboring breast ; but such
vitality as there was held its own with scarcely percepti-
ble change, and the doctor thought it might be midnight
before the solemn struggle would end. “In the mean-
time, expect nothing," he exclaimed ; “she has said her
last word. What remains will be a mere sinking into the
eternal sleep." .


40 HAND AND RING.
This being so, Mr. Orcutt and Mr. Ferris decided to
leave. Mr. Byrd saw them safely out, and proceeded to
take one or two private observations of his own. They
consisted mostly in noting the precise position of the
various doors in reference to the hearth where the stick
was picked up, and the clock where the victim was
attacked. Or, so the coroner gathered from the direction
which Mr. Byrd's eye took in its travels over the scene of
action, and the diagram which he hastily drew on the
back of an envelope. The table was noticed, too, and an
inventory of its articles taken, after which he opened the
side.door and looked carefully out into the lane.
To observe him now with his quick eye flashing from
spot to spot, his head lifted, and a visible air of determi-
nation infused through his whole bearing, you would
scarcely recognize the easy, gracefully indolent youth
who, but a little while before, lounged against the tables
' and chairs, and met the most penetrating eye with the
sleepy gaze of a totally uninterested man. Dr. Tredwell,
alert to the change, tapped the letter in his pocket com-
placently. “I have roused up a weasel," he mentally
decided, and congratulated himself accordingly.
It was two o'clock when Mr. Byrd went forth to join
Mr. Ferris in the court.room. As he stepped from the
door, he encountered, to all appearance, just the same
crowd that had encumbered its entrance a half hour
before. Even the old crone had not moved from her
former position, and seeing him, fairly pounced upon


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 4I
him with question after question, all of which he parried
with a nonchalant dexterity that drew shout after shout
from those who stood by, and, finally, as he thought, won
him the victory, for, with an angry shake of the head, she
ceased her importunities, and presently let him pass. He
hastened to improve the chance to gain for himself the
refuge of the streets; and, having done this, stood for an
instant parleying with a trembling young girl, whose real
distress and anxiety seemed to -merit some attention.
Fatal delay. In that instant the old woman had got in
front of him, and when he arrived at the head of the
street he found her there.
“ Now," said she, with full.blown triumph in her
venomous eyes, “perhaps you will tell me something!
You think I am a mumbling old woman who don't know
what she is bothering herself about. But I tell you I 've
not kept my eyes and ears open for seventy.five years in
this wicked world without knowing a bit of the devil's
own work when I see it." Here her face grew quite
hideous, and her eyes gleamed with an aspect of gloating
over the evil she alluded to, that quite sickened the young
man, accustomed though he was to the worst phases of
moral depravity. Leaning forward, she peered inquir-
ingly in his face. “What has size to do with it?” she
suddenly asked, emphasizing the pronoun with an ex-
pressive leer.
“ She ? " he repeated, starting back.
“ Yes, she ; the pretty young lady, the pert and haughty


12 HAND AND RING.
Miss Dare, that had but to speak to make the whole
crowd stand back. What had she to do with it, I say?
Something, or she would n't be here ! "
“ I don't know what you are talking about," he replied,
conscious of a strange and unaccountable dismay at thus
lhearing his own passing doubt put into words by this vile
and repellent being. “ Miss Dare is a stranger. She has
nothing to do either with this afifair or the poor woman
who has suffefed by it. Her interest is purely one of
sympathy."
“Hi! and you call yourself a smart one, I dare say."
And the old creature ironically chuckled. “Well, well,
well, what fools men are ! They see a pretty face, and
blind themselves to what is written on it as plain as black
writing on a white wall. They call it sympathy, and never
stop to ask why she, of all the soft.hearted gals in the
town, should be the only one to burst into that house like
an avenging spirit ! But it 's all right," she went on, in
a bitterly satirical tone. “A crime like this can't be
covered up, however much you may try ; and sooner or
later we will all know whether this young lady has had
any thing to do with Mrs. Clemmens' murder or not."
“ Stop ! ” cried Mr. Byrd, struck in spite of himself by
the look of meaning with which she said these last words.
“ Do you know any thing against Miss Dare which other
folks do not ? If you do, speak, and let me hear at once
what it is. But—" he felt very angry, though he could
-not for the moment tell why—“ if you are only talking to
u


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 43
gratify your spite, and have nothing to tell me except the.
fact that Miss Dare appeared shocked and anxious
when she came from the widow's house just now, look out
what use you make of her name, or you will get yourself
into trouble. Mr. Orcutt and Mr. Ferris are not men to
let you go babbling round town about a young lady of
estimable character." And he tightened the grip he had
taken upon her arm and looked at her threateningly.
The effect was instantaneous. Slipping from his grasp,
she gazed at him with a sinister expression and edged
slowly away.
“I know any thing?" she repeated. “ What should I
know? I only say the young lady's face tells a very
strange story. If you are too dull or too obstinate to read
it, it 's nothing to me." And with another leer and
a quick look up and down the street, as if she half feared
to encounter one or both of the two lawyers whose names
he had mentioned, she marched quickly away, wagging
her head and looking back as she went, as much as to
say: “ You have hushed me up for this time, young man,
but don't congratulate yourself too much. I have still a
tongue in my head, and the day may come when I
can use it without any fear of being stopped by you."
Mr. Byrd, who was not very well pleased with himself
or the way he had managed this interview, watched her
till she was out of sight, and then turned thoughtfully tow-
ard the court.house. The fact was, he felt both agitat-
ed and confused. In the first place, he was discon-


44 HAND AND RING.
certed at discovering the extent of the impression that
had evidently been made upon him by the beauty of Miss
Dare, since nothing short of a deep, unconscious admira-
tion for her personal attributes, and a strong and secret
dread of having his lately acquired confidence in her
again disturbed, could have led him to treat the insinua-
tions of this babbling old wretch in such a cavalier man-
ner. Any other detective would have seized with
avidity upon the opportunity of hearing what she had to
say on such a subject, and would not only have cajoled
her into confidence., but encouraged her to talk until she
had given utterance to all that was on her mind. But in
the stress of a feeling to which he was not anxious to
give a name, he had forgotten that he was a detective,
and remembered only that he was a man ; and the con-
sequence was that he had frightened the old creature,
and cut short words that it was possibly his business
to hear. In the second place, he felt himself in a quan-
dary as regarded Miss Dare. If, as was more than pos-
sible, she was really the innocent woman the coroner con-
sidered her, and the insinuations, if not threats, to which
he had been listening were simply the result of a
wicked old woman's privately nurtured hatred, how could
he reconcile it to his duty as a man, or even as a detect-
ive, to let the day pass without warning her, or the emi-
nent lawyer who honored her with his'regard, of the
danger in which she stood from this creature's venomous
tongue.
._.. »_ _.. __... ..-..._.-


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 45
As he sat in court that afternoon, with his eye upon
Mr. Orcutt, beneath whose ordinary aspect of quiet, sar-
castic' attention he thought he could detect the secret-
workings of a deep, personal perplexity, if not of actual
alarm, he asked himself what he would wish done if
he were that man, and a scandal of a debasing char-
acter threatened the peace of one allied to him by the
most endearing ties. “Would I wish to be informed of
it?" he queried. “I most certainly should," was his '
inward reply.
And so it was that, after the adjournment of court, he
approached Mr. Orcutt, and leading him respectfully
aside, said, with visible reluctance :
“I beg your pardon, sir, but a fact has come to my
knowledge to.day with which I think you ought to be
made acquainted. It is in reference to the young lady
who was with us at Mrs. Clemmens' house this mor-
n-
ing. Did you know, sir, that she had an enemy in this
town ? "
Mr. Orcutt, whose thoughts had been very much with
that young lady since she left him so unceremoniously a
few hours' before, started and looked at Mr. Byrd with
surprise which was not without its element of distrust.
“An enemy?" he repeated. “An enemy? What do
you mean ?”
“What I say, Mr. Orcutt. As I came out of Mrs.
Clemmens' house this afternoon, an old hag whose name
I do not know, but whgm you will probably have no dif-


.__ -_-,-.
46 HAND AND RING.
ficulty in recognizing, seized me by the arm and made me
the recipient of insinuations and threats against Miss
Dare, which, however foolish and unfounded, betrayed an
animosity and a desire tq injure her that is worthy your
attention."
“You are very kind," returned Mr. Orcutt, with in-
creased astonishment and a visible constraint, “but I do
not understand you. What insinuations or threats could
' this woman have to make against a young lady of Miss
Dare's position and character ?"
“ It is diflicult for me to tell you," acknowledged Mr.
Byrd ; “ but the vicious old creature presumed to say that
Miss Dare must have had a special and secret interest in
this murder, or she would not have gone as she did to that
house. Of course," pursued the detective, discreetly
dropping his eyes from the lawyer's face, “ I did what I
could to show her the folly of her suspicions, and tried to
make her see the trouble she would bring upon herself if
she persisted in expressing them ; but I fear I only suc-
ceeded in quieting her for the moment, and that she will
soon be attacking others with this foolish story." '
Mr. Orcutt who, whatever his own doubts or appre-
hensions, could not fail to be totally unprepared for a
communication of this kind, gave utterance to a fierce
and bitter exclamation, and fixed upon the detective his
keen and piercing eye.
“ Tell me just what she said," he demanded. '
“ I will try to do so,". returned Mr. Byrd. And calling


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. . 47
to his aid a very excellent memory, he gave a veréatim
account of the conversation that had passed between him
and the old woman. Mr. Orcutt listened, as he always
did, without interruption or outward demonstration ; but
when the recital was over and Mr. Byrd ventured to look
at him once more, he noticed that he was very pale and
greatly changed in expression. Being himself in a posi. .
tion to understand somewhat of the other's emotion, he
regained by an effort the air of polite nonchalance that
became him so well, and quickly suggested: “ Miss Dare
will, of course, be able to explain herself."
The lawyer flashed upon him a quick glance.
“ I hope you have no doubts on the subject," he said ;
then, as the detective's eye fell a trifle before his, paused
and looked at him with the self.possession gained in fif-
teen years of practice in the criminal courts, and said :
“I am Miss Dare's best friend. I know her well, and
can truly say that not only is her character above re-
proach, but that I am acquainted with no circumstances
that could in any way connect her with this crime. Never-
theless, the incidents of the day have been such as to
make it desirable for her to explain herself, and this, as
you say, she will probably have no difliculty in doing. If
you will, therefore, wait till to.morrow before taking any
one else into your confidence, I promise you to see Miss
Dare myself, and, from her own lips, learn the cause of
her peculiar interest in this affair. Meanwhile, let me
request you to put a curb upon your imagination, and


‘ 48 HAND AND RING.
not allow it to soar too high into the regions of idle spec-
ulation."
And he held out his hand to the detective with a smile
Whose vain attempt at unconcern affected Mr. Byrd more
than a violent outbreak would have done. It betrayed
‘so unmistakably that his own secret doubts were not
without an echo in the breast of this eminent lawyer.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 49
IV.
IMOGENE.
You are a riddle, solve you who ca.n.—Kuow1.s.a.
M R. ORCUTT was a man who for many years had
turned a deaf ear and a cold eye to the various
attractions and beguilements of woman. Either from
natural coldness of disposition, or for some other latent
cause, traceable, perhaps, to some fact in his past history,
and not to be inquired into by gossiping neighbors and
so.called friends, he had resisted, even to the point of
disdain, both the blandishments of acknowledged belles,
and the more timid but no less pleasing charms of the
shy country misses that he met upon his travels. '
But one day all this was changed. Imogene Dare
entered his home, awakening a light in the dim old place
that melted his heart and made a man out of what was
usually considered a well.ordered machine.
She had been a foundling. Yes, this beautiful, disdain-
ful, almost commanding woman, had in the beginning
been that most unfortunate of beings—a child without a
name. But though this fact may have influenced the
course of her early days, it gradually disappeared from
notice as she grew up and developed, till in Sibley, at
least, it became wellnigh a fact forgotten. Her beauty,


50 HAND AND RING.
/_.-._-_ _ c_..__--,'_,
as well as the imposing traits of her character, was the
cause. There are some persons so gifted with natural
force that, once brought in contact with them, you forget
their antecedents, and, indeed, every thing but themselves.
Either their beauty overawes you or they, by conversa-
tion or bearing, so completely satisfy you of their right
to your respect, that indifference takes the place of curi-
osity, and you yield your regard as if you have already
yielded your admiration, without question and without
stint. .
The early years of her life were passed in the house of
a poor widow, to whom the appearance of this child on
her door.step one fine day had been nothing more nor less
than a veritable godsend. First, because she was herself
alone in the world, and needed the mingled companion-
ship and care which a little one invariably gives; and,
secondly, because Imogene, from the very first, had been
a noticeable child, who early attracted the attention of
the neighbors, and led to many a substantial evidence of
favor from them, as well as from the strangers who
passed their gate or frequented their church. Insensibly
to herself, and without help of circumstances or rearing,
the girl was a magnet toward which all good things in-
sensibly tended ; and the widow saw this, and, while
reaping the reward, stinted neither her affection nor her
gratitude.
When Imogene was eleven, this protector of her infancy
died. But another home instantly ofiered, A wealthy


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 5!
couple of much kindness, if little culture, adopted her as
their child, and gave her every benefit in life save educa-
tion. This never having possessed themselves, they
openly undervalued. But she was not to be kept down
by the force of any circumstances, whether favorable or -
.
otherwise. All the graces of manner and refinements of
thought which properly belong to the station she had now
attained, but which, in the long struggle after wealth, had
escaped the honest couple that befriended her, became
by degrees her own, tempering without destroying her in-
dividuality, any more than the new life of restraint that
now governed her physical powers, was able to weaken or
subdue that rare and splendid physique which had been
her fairest birthright. .
In the lap of luxury, therefore, and in full possession
of means to come and go and conform herself to the
genteel world and its fashions, she passed the next four
years; but scarcely had she attained the age of fifteen,
when bankruptcy, followed by death, again robbed her of
her home and set her once more adrift upon the world.
This time she looked to no one for assistance. Refus'. \
ing all offers, many of them those of honorable marriage,
she sought for work, and after a short delay found it in
the household of Mr. Orcutt. The aged sister who
governed his home and attended to all its domestic
details, hired her as a sort of assistant, rightly judging
that the able young body and the alert hand would bring
into the household economy just that life and interest


52 HAND AND RING.
which her own failing strength had now for some time re-
fused to supply.
That the girl was a beauty and something more, who
could not from the nature of things be kept in that sub-
ordinate position, she either failed to see, or, seeing, was
pleased to disregard. She never sought to impose re-
straint upon the girl any more than she did upon her
brother, when in the course of events she saw that his
eye was at last attracted and his imagination fired by the
noble specimen of girlhood that made its daily appear-
ance at his own board. .
That she had introduced a dangerous element into that
quiet home, that ere long would devastate its sacred pre-
cincts, and endanger, if not destroy, its safety and honor,
she had no reason to suspect. What was there in youth,
beauty, and womanly power that one should shrink from
their embodiment and tremble as if an evil instead of a
good had entered that hitherto undisturbed household?
Nothing, if they had been all. But alas for her, and alas
for him—they were not all ! Mixed with the youth,
beauty, and power was a something else not to be so
readily understood—a something, too, which, without
offering explanation to the fascinated mind that studied
her, made the beauty unique, the youth a charm, and the
power a controlling force. She was not to be sounded.
Going and coming, smiling and frowning, in movement or
at rest, shewas always a mystery ; the depths of her be-
ing remaining still in hiding, however calmly she spoke or


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 53
however graciously she turned upon you the light of her
deep gray eyes.
Mr. Orcutt loved her. From the first vision he had of
her face and form dominating according to their nature
at his board and fireside, he had given up his will into her
unconscious keeping. She was so precisely what all
other women he had known were not. At first so distant,
so self.contained, so unapproachable in her pride ; then
as her passion grew for books, so teachable, so industri-
ous, so willing to listen to his explanations and argu-

ments ; and lastly
But that did not come at once. A long struggle took
place between those hours when he used to encourage
her to come into his study and sit at his side, and read
from his books, and the more dangerous time still, when
he followed her into the drawing.room and sat at her side,
and sought to read, not from books, but from her eyes,
the story of his own future fate.
For, powerful as was his passion and deeply as his
heart had been touched, he did not yield to the thought
of marriage which such a passion involves, without a con-
flict. He would make her his child, the heiress of his
wealth, and the support of his old age ; this was his first
resolve. But it did not last ; the first sight he had of her
on her return from a visit to Buffalo, which he had in-
sisted upon her making during the time of his greatest
mental conflict, had assured him that this could never
be ; that he must be husband and she wife, or else their


D
54 HAND AND RING.
relations must entirely cease. Perhaps the look with
which she met him had something to do with this. It
was such a blushing, humble—yes, for her, really humble
and beautiful—look. He could not withstand it.
Though no one could have detected it in his manner,
he really succumbed in that hour. Doubt and hesitation
flew to the winds, and to make her his own became the
sole aim and object of his life.
He did not, however, betray his purpose at once.
Neighbors and friends might and did suspect the state of
his feelings, but to her he was silent. That vague some-
thing which marked her off from the rest of her sex,
seemed to have deepened in her temporary sojourn from
his side, and whatever it meant of good or of ill, it taught
him at least to be wary. At last, was it with premedita-
tion or was it in some moment of uncontrollable impulse,
he spoke; not with definite pleading, or even with any
very clear intimation that he desired some day to make
her his wife, but in a way that sufficed to tear the veil
from their previous intercourse and let her catch a
glimpse, if no more, of his heart, and its devouring pas-
sion.
He was absolutely startled at the result. She avowed
that she had never thought of his possessing such a re-
gard for her; and for two days shut herself up in her
room and refused to see either him or his sister. Then
she came down, blooming like a-rose, but more distant,
more quiet, and more inscrutable than ever. Pride, if
- _.p‘..._p..._,...


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 55
pride she felt, was subdued under a general aspect of
womanly dignity that for a time held all further avowals
in check, and made all intercourse between them at once
potent in its attraction and painful in its restraint.
“She is waiting for a distinct offer of marriage," he
decided.
' And thus matters stood, notwithstanding the general
opinion of their friends, when the terrible event record-
ed in the foregoing chapters of this story brought her in
a new light before his eyes, and raised a question, shock-
ing as it was unexpected, as to whether this young girl,
immured as he had believed her to be in his own home,
had by some unknown and inexplicable means run upon
the secret involving, if not explaining, the mystery of this
dreadful and daring crime.
Such an idea was certainly a preposterous one to enter-
tain. He neither could nor would believe she knew more
of this matter than any other disinterested person in town,
and yet there had certainly been something in her bearing
upon the scene of tragedy, that suggested a personal in-
terest in the affair; nor could he deny that he himself
had been struck by the incongruity of her behavior long
before it attracted the attention of others.
But then he had opportunities for judging of her con-
duct which others did not have. He not only had every
reason to believe that the ring to which she had so public-
ly laid claim was not her own, but he had observed how,
at the moment the dying woman had made that tell.tale ex-


56 HAND AND RING.
clamation of “ Ring and 'Hand/ " Miss Dare had looked
down at the jewel she had thus appropriated, with a
quick horror and alarm that seemed to denote she had
some knowledge of its owner, or some suspicion, at least,
as to whose hand had worn it before she placed it upon
her own.
It was not, therefore, a matter of wonder that he was
visibly affected at finding her conduct had attracted the
attention of others, and one of those a detective, or that
the walk home after his interview with Mr. Byrd should
have been fraught with a dread to which he scarcely
dared to give a name.
The sight of Miss Dare coming down the path as he
reached his own gate did not tend to greatly allay his ap-
prehensions, particularly as he observed she was dressed
in travelling costume, and carried a small satchel on her
arm.
“ Imogene," he cried, as she reached him, “ what is the
meaning of this ? Where are you going ?"
Her face, which wore a wholly unnatural and strained
expression, turned slowly toward his.
l “ I am going to Buffalo," she said.
“ To Buffalo ?"
“Yes."
This was alarming, surely. She was going to leave the
town—leave it suddenly, without excuse or explanation !
Looking at her with eyes which, for all their intense
inquiry, conveyed but little of the serious emotions that
were agitating his mind, he asked, hurriedly :


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. '57
“What takes you to Buffalo—to.day—so suddenly ?"
Her answer was set and mechanical.
“ I have had news. One of my—my friends is not well.
I must go. Do not detain me."
And she moved quickly toward the gate.
But his tremulous hand was upon it, and he made no
offer to open a passage for her.
“ Pardon me," said he, “but I cannot let you go till I
have had some conversation with you. Come with me to
the house, Imogene. I will not detain you long."
But with a sad and abstracted gesture she slowly shook
her head.
“ It is too late," she murmured. “ I shall miss the train
if I stop now."
“Then you must miss it," he cried, bitterly, forgetting
every thing else in the torture of his uncertainty. “ What
I have to say cannot wait. Come ! ” '
This tone of . command from one who had hitherto
adapted himself to her every whim, seemed to strike her.
Paling quickly, she for the first time looked at him with
something like a comprehension of his feelings, and
quietly replied :
“Forgive me. I had forgotten for the moment the
extent of your claims upon me. I will wait till to.morrow
before going." And she led the way back to the house.
When they were alone together in the library, he turned
toward her with a look whose severity was the fruit of
his condition of mind rather than of any natural harshness
or imperiousness.


58 HAND AND RING.
“ Now, Imogene," said he, “ tell me why you desire to
leave my house."
Her face, which had assumed a mask of cold impassive-
ness, confronted him like that of a statue, but her voice,
when she spoke, was sufficiently gentle. ,..
“ Mr. Orcutt," was her answer, “I have told you. I
have a call elsewhere which must be attended to. I do
not leave your house ; I merely go to Buffalo for a few
days."
But he could not believe this short statement of her
intentions. In the light of these new fears of his, this
talk of Buffalo, and a call there, looked to him like the
merest subterfuge. Yet her gentle tone was not with-
out its effect, and his voice visibly softened as he said :
“ You are intending, then, to return ? ”
Her reply was prefaced by a glance of amazement.
!
“ Of course,' she responded at last. “ Is not this
my home ?"
Something in the way she said this carried a ray of
hope to his heart. Taking her hand in his, he looked. at
her long and searchingly.
“Imogene ! " he exclaimed, “there is something serious
weighing upon your heart. What is it? Will you not
make me the confidant of your troubles? Tell me what
has made such a change in you since—since noon, and its
dreadful event."
But her expression did not soften, and her manner be-
came even more reserved than before.



h
“Taking her hand in his, he looked at her Ion and searchlngly.
figne,' 3? exclaimed, ‘there is something weig
18° 5 -





THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 59
“ I have not any thing to tell," said she.
“ Not any thing ? ” he repeated.
“Not any thing." '
Dropping her hand, he communed a moment with him-
self. That a secret of possible consequence lay between
them he could not doubt. That it had reference to and -
involved the crime of the morning, he was equally sure.
But how was he to make her acknowledge it ? How was
he to reach her mind and determine its secrets without
alarming her dignity or wounding her heart ?
To press her with questions seemed impossible. Even
if he could have found words with which to formulate his
fears, her firm, set face, and steady, unrelenting eye,
assured him only too plainly that the attempt would
be met by failure, if it did not bring upon him her
scorn and contempt. No ; some other method --must
be found ; some way that would completely and at once
ease his mind of a terrible weight, and yet involve no risk
to the love that had now become the greatest necessity of
his existence. But what way? With all his acumen and
knowledge of the world, he could think of but one.
He would ask her hand in marriage—aye, at this very mo-
ment—and from the tenor of her reply judge of the
nature of her thoughts. For, looking in her face, he felt
forced to acknowledge that whatever doubts he had
ever cherished in reference to the character of this re-
markable girl, upon one point he was perfectly-clear, and
this was, that she was at basis honorable in her instincts,


60 HAND AND RING.
and would never do herself or another a real injustice. If
a distinct wrong or even a secret of an unhappy or debas-
ing nature lay between them, he knew that nothing, not
even the bitterest necessity or the most headlong passion,
would ever drive her into committing the dishonor of
marrying him.
No; if with his declaration in her ears, and with his
eyes fixed upon hers, she should give any token of
her willingness to accept his addresses, he felt he might
know, beyond doubt or cavil, that whatever womanish
excitability may have moved her in her demonstrations
that day, they certainly arose from no private knowledge
or suspicion detrimental to his future peace or to hers.
Bracing himself, therefore, to meet any result that
might follow his attempt, he drew her gently toward him
and determinedly addressed her.
“Imogene, I told you at the gate that I had some-
thing to say to you. So I have; and though it may
not be wholly unexpected to you, yet I doubt if it would
have left my lips to.night if the events of the day had.not
urged m.e to offer you my sympathy and protection."
He paused, almost sickened; at that last phrase
she had grown so terribly white and breathless. But
something in her manner, nothwithstanding, seemed to
encourage him to proceed, and smothering his doubts,
trampling, as it were, upon his rising apprehensions,
he calmed down his tone and went quietly on :
“ Imogene, I love you."


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. ‘ 61
She did not shrink.
“ Imogene, I want you for my wife. Will you listen to
my prayer, and make my home forever happy with your
presence ? "
Ah, now she showed feeling ; now she started and drew
back, putting out her hands as if the idea he had
advanced was insupportable to her. But it was only for
a moment. Before he could say to himself that it was all
over, that his worst fears had been true, and that nothing
but the sense of some impassable gulf between them
could have made her recoil from him like this, she
had dropped her hands and turned toward him with
.a look whose deep inquiry and evident struggle after
an understanding of his claims, spoke of a mind clouded
by trouble, but not alienated from himself by fear.
She did not speak, however,—not for some few minutes,
and when she did, her words came in short and hurried
gasps.
“ You are kind," was what she said. “ To be your-
wife ”—she had difficulty in uttering the word, but it
came at last—“ would be an honor and a protection. I
appreciate both. But I am in no mood to.night to listen
to words of love from any man. Perhaps six months
1!
hence
But he already had her in his arms. The joy and re-
lief he felt were so great he could not control himself.
“ Imogene,' he murmured, “my Imogene!” And
scarcely heeded her when, in a burst of subdued agony,


62 HAND AND RING.
. .. ..- _.',
she asked to be released, saying that she was ill and tired,’
and must be allowed to withdraw to her room.
But a second appeal woke him from his dream. If his
worst fears were without foundation; if her mind was
pure of aught that unfitted her to be his wife, there was
yet much that was mysterious in her conduct, and, conse-
quently, much which he longed to have explained.
“ Imogene," he said, “I must ask you to remain a
moment longer. Hard as it is for me to distress you,
there is a question which I feel it necessary to put to you
before you go. It is in reference to the fearful crime
which took place to.day. Why did you take such an in-
terest in it, and why has it had such an effect upon you
that you look like a changed woman to.night ?"
Disengaging herself. from his arms, she looked at him
with the set composure of one driven to bay, and asked :
“Is there any thing strange in my being interested in a
murder perpetrated on a person whose name I have fre-
quently heard mentioned in this house?"
“No," he murmured, “no; but what led you to her
home ? It was not a spot for a' young lady to be in, and
any other woman would have shrunk from so immediate
a contact with crime."
Imogene's hand was on the door, but she turned back.
“ I am not like other women," she declared. “When I
hear of any thing strange or mysterious, I want to under-
stand it. I did not stop to ask what people would think
of my conduct."


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 63
“ But your grief and terror, Imogene ? They are real,
and not to be disguised. Look in the glass over there,
and you will yourself see what an effect all this has had
upon you. If Mrs. Clemmens is a stranger to you ; if you
know no more of her than you have always led me to sup-
pose, why should you have been so unnaturally impressed
by to.day's tragedy ?"
It was a searching question, and her eye fell slightly,
but her steady demeanor did not fail her.
“ Still," said she, “because I am not like other women.
I cannot forget such horrors in a moment." And she
advanced again to the door, upon which she laid her
hand.
Unconsciously his eye followed the movement, and
rested somewhat inquiringly upon that hand. It was
gloved, but to all appearance was without the ring which
he had seen her put on at the widow's house.
She seemed to comprehend his look. Meeting his eye
with unshaken firmness, she resumed, in a low and con-
strained voice: .
“ You are wondering about the ring that formed a
portion of the scene we are discussing. Mr. Orcutt, I
told the gentleman who handed it to me to.day that it
was mine. That should be enough for the man who
professes suflicient confidence in me to wish to make me
his wife. But since'your looks confess a curiosity in
regard to this diamond, I will say that I was as much as-
tonished as anybody to see it picked up from the floor at


64 HAND AND RING.
._.. _...-.-_. _--_..,.
my feet. The last time I had seen it was when I dropped
it, somewhat recklessly, into a pocket. How or when it
fell out, I cannot say. As for the ring itself," she haugh-
tily added, “young ladies frequently possess articles of
whose existence their friends are unconscious."
Here was an attempt at an explanation which, though
meagre and far from satisfactory, had at least a basis in
possibility. But Mr. Orcutt, as I have before said, was
certain that the ring was lying on the floor of the room
where it was picked up, before Imogene had made her
appearance there, and was therefore struck with dismay
at this conclusive evidence of her falsehood.
Yet, as he said to himself, she might have some associ-
ation with the ring, might even have an owner's claim
upon it, incredible as this appeared, without being in the
possession of such knowledge as definitely connected it
with this crime. And led by this hope he laid his hand
on hers as it was softly turning the knob of the door, and
said, with emotion :
“ Imogene, one moment. This is a subject which I am
as anxious to drop as you are. In your condition it is
almost cruelty to urge it upon you, but of one thing I
must be assured before you leave my presence, and that
is, that whatever secrets you may hide in your soul, or
whatever motive may have governed your treatment of me
and my suit to.night, they do not spring from any real or
supposed interest in this crime, which ought from its
nature to separate you and me. I ask,'-' he quickly added,


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 65
as he saw her give a start of injured pride or irrepressible
dismay, “not because I have any doubts on the subject
myself, but because some of the persons who have un-
fortunately been witness to your strange and excited con-
duct to.day, have presumed to hint that nothing short of
a secret knowledge of the crime or criminal could explain
your action upon the scene of tragedy."
And with a look which, if she had observed it, might
have roused her to a sense of the critical position in which
she stood, he paused and held his breath for her reply.
It did not come. '
“ Imogene ?"
“I hear."
Cold and hard the words sounded—his hand went like
lightning to his heart.
“ Are you going to answer?” he asked, at last.
“Yes."
“ What is that answer to be, Yes or No ? "
She turned upon him her large gray eyes. There was
misery in their depths, but there was a haughtiness, also,
which only truth could impart. '
“ My answer is No !” said she.
And, without another word, she glided from the room.
Next morning, Mr. Byrd found three notes awaiting
his perusal. The first was a notification from the coroner
to the effect that the Widow Clemmens had quietly
breathed her last at midnight. The second, a hurried
line from Mr. Ferris, advising him to make use of the day


66 HAND AND RING.
in concluding a certain matter of theirs in the next town ;
and the third, a letter from Mr. Orcutt, couched in the
following terms :
MR. BYRD: Dear Sir-.I have seen the person named between
.us, and I here state, upon my honor, that she is in possession of no
' facts which it concerns the authorities to know.
TREMONT B. ORcu'r'r.
i
' _._.-_._-. _-Q‘-<0


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 67'

V.
HORACE BYRD.
But now, I am cabin'd, cribbed, confin'd, bound in
To saucy doubts and fears.—M..xcmzrn.
H ORACE BYRD was by birth and education a
gentleman. He was the son of a man of small
means but great expectations, and had been reared to
look forward to the day when he should be the possessor
of a large income. But his father dying, both means and
expectations vanished into thin air, and at the age of
twenty, young Horace found himself thrown upon the
world without income, without business, and, what was
still worse, without those habits of industry that serve a
man in such an emergency better than friends and often
better than money itself.
He had also an invalid mother to look after, and two
young sisters whom he loved with warm and devoted
affection; and though by the kindness and forethought
of certain relatives he was for a time spared all anxiety
on their account, he soon found that some exertion on
his part would be necessary to their continued subsistence,
and accordingly set about the task of finding suitable
employment, with much spirit and no little hope.
But a long series of disappointments taught him that


es
HAND AND RING.
III
young men cannot leap at a bound into a fine salary or
even a promising situation; and baffied in every wish,
worn out with continued failures, he sank from one state
of hope to another, till he was ready to embrace any
prospect that would insure ease and comfort to the helpless
beings he so much loved.
It was while he was in this condition that Mr. Gryce—
a somewhat famous police detective of New York—came
upon him, and observing, as he thought, some signs of
natural aptitude for fine work, as he called it, in this ele-
gant but decidedly hard.pushed young gentleman, seized
upon him with an avidity that can only be explained by
this detective's long.cherished desire to ally to himself a
man of real refinement and breeding; having, as he
privately admitted more than once to certain chosen
friends, a strong need of such a person to assist him in
certain cases where great houses were to be entered and
fine gentlemen if not fair ladies subjected to interviews of
a delicate and searching nature.
To join the police force and be a detective was the last
contingency that had occurred to Horace Byrd. But
men in decidedly straitened circumstances cannot pick
and choose too nicely; and after a week of uncertainty
and fresh disappointment, he went manfully to his mother
and told her of the offer that had been made him. Meeting
with less discouragement than he had expected from the
broken.down and unhappy woman, he gave himself up to
the guiding hand of Mr. Gryce, and before he realized it,


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 69
.was enrolled among the secret members of the New York
force.
He was not recognized publicly as a detective. His
name was not even known to any but the highest officials.
He was employed for special purposes, and it was not
considered desirable that he should be seen at police
head.quarters. But being a man of much ability and of a
solid, reliable nature, he made his way notwithstanding,
and by the time he had been in the service a year, was
looked upon as a good.fellow and a truly valuable acquisi-
tion to the bureau. Indeed, he possessed more than the
usual qualifications for his calling, strange as the fact
appeared not only to himself but to the few friends
acquainted with his secret. In the first place, he pos-
sessed much acuteness without betraying.it. Of an easy
bearing and a polished address, he was a man to please
all and alarm none, yet he always knew what he was
about and what you were about, too, unless indeed you
possessed a power of dissimulation much beyond ordinary,
when the chances were that his gentlemanly instincts
would get in his way, making it impossible for him to
believe in a guilt that was too hardy to betray itself, and
too insensible to shame to blush before the touch of the
inquisitor.
In the second place, he liked the business. Yes, not-
withstanding the theories of that social code to which he
once paid deference, notwithstanding the frankness and
candor of . his own disposition, he found in this pursuit a


._- .-,
70 HAND AND RING.
nice adjustment of cause to effect and effect to cause
that at once pleased and satisfied his naturally mathe-
matical mind. .
He did not acknowledge the fact, not even to himself.
On the contrary, he was always threatening that inanother
month he should look up some new means of livelihood,
but the coming month would invariably bring a fresh case
before his notice, and then it would be : “ Well, after this
matter is probed to the bottom," or, “When that criminal
is made to confess his guilt," till even his little sisters
caught the infection, and would whisper over their dolls :
“ Brother Horace is going to be a great man when all
the bad and naughty people in the world are put in
prison." '
As a rule, Mr.. Byrd was not sent out of town. But, on
the occasion of Mr. Ferris desiring a man of singular dis-
cretion to assist him in certain inquiries connected with
the case then on trial in Sibley, there happened to be a
deficiency of capable men in the bureau, and the superin-
tendent was obliged to respond to the call by sending.Mr.
Byrd. He did not do it, however, withoutmaking the
proviso that all public recognition of this officer, in his
real capacity, was to be avoided. And so far the wishes
of his superiors had been respected. No one outside of
the few persons mentioned in the first chapter of this
story suspected that the easy, affable, and somewhat dis-
tinguished.looking young gentleman who honored the
village hotel with his patronage was a secret emissary of
the New York police.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 71
Mr. Byrd was, of all men, then, the very one to feel the
utmost attraction toward, and at the same time the
greatest shrinking from, the pursuit of such investigations
as were likely to ensue upon the discovery of the mysteri-
ous case of murder which had so unexpectedly been
presented to his notice. As a professional, he could not
fail to experience that quick start of the blood which
always follows the recognition of a “ big affair," while as
a gentleman, he felt himself recoil from probing into a
matter that was blackened by a possibility against which
every instinct in his nature rebelled.
It was, therefore, with oddly mingled sensations that
he read Mr. Orcutt's letter, and found himself compelled
to admit that the coroner had possessed a truer insight
than himself into the true cause of Miss Dare's eccentric
conduct upon the scene of the tragedy. His main feeling,
however, was one of relief. It was such a comfort to
think he could proceed in the case without the dread of.
stumbling upon a clue that, in some secret and unforeseen
way, should connect this imposing woman with a revolting
crime. Or so he fondly considered. But he had not spent
five minutes at the railroad station, where, in pursuance
to the commands of Mr. Ferris, he went to take the train
for Monteith, before he saw reason to again change his
mind. For, there among the passengers awaiting the
New York express, he saw Miss Dare, with a travelling-
bag upon her arm and a look on her face that, to say the
least, was of most uncommon character in a scene of so


72 HAND AND RING.
.‘_._..' '
much bustle and hurry. She was going away, then—going
to leave Sibley and its mystery behind her ! He was not
pleased with the discovery. This sudden departure
looked too much like escape, and gave him, notwithstand-
ing the assurance he had received from Mr. Orcutt, an
iuneasy sense of having tampered with his duty as an
olficer of justice, in thus providing this mysterious young
woman with a warning that could lead to a result like
this.
Yet, as he stood at the depot surveying Miss Dare, in ’
the few minutes they both had to wait, he asked himself
over and over again how any thought of her possessing a
personal interest in the crime which had just taken place
could retain a harbor in his mind. She looked so noble
in her quiet aspect of solemn determination, so superior
in her young, fresh beauty—a determination that, from
the lofty look it imparted, must have its birth in generous
emotion, even if her beauty was but the result of a rarely
modelled frame and a health of surpassing perfection.
He resolved he would think of her no more in that or any
other connection; that he would follow the example of
her best friend, and give his doubts to the wind.
And yet such a burr is suspicion, that he no sooner saw
a young man approaching her with the evident intention
of speaking, than he felt an irresistible desire to hear
what she would have to say, and, led by this impulse,
allowed himself to saunter nearer and nearer the pair, till
he stood almost at their backs.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 73
The first words he heard were :
“ How long do you expect to remain in Buffalo, Miss
Dare ? " .
To which she replied :
“I have no idea whether I shall stay a week or a
month.”
Then the whistle of the advancing train was heard, and
the two pressed hurriedly forward.
The business which had taken Mr. Byrd to Monteith
kept him in that small town all day. But though he thus
missed the opportunity of attending the opening of the
inquest at Sibley, he did not experience the vivid disap-
pointment which might have been expected, his interest
in that matter having in some unaccountable way subsided
from the moment he saw Imogene Dare take the cars for
Buffalo.
It was five o'clock when he -again returned to Sibley,
the hour at which the western train was also due. In
fact, it came steaming in while he stood there, and, as
was natural, perhaps, he paused a moment to watch the
passengers alight. There were not many, and he was
about to turn toward home, when he saw a lady step
upon the platform whose appearance was so familiar that
he stopped, disbelieving the evidence of his own senses.
Miss Dare returned? Miss Dare, who but a few hours
before had left this very depot for the purpose, as she
said, of making a visit of more or less -length in' the dis-
tant city of Buffalo? It could not be. And yet there


74 HAND AND RING.
‘ _> __ -.. ...._..--._.
was no mistaking her, disguised though she was by the
heavy veil that covered her features. She had come
back, and the interest which Mr. Byrd had lost in Sibley
and its possible mystery, revived with a suddenness that
called up a self.conscious blush to his hardy cheek. .
But why had she so changed her plans? What could
have occurred during the few hours that had elapsed
since her departure, to turn her about on her path and
drive her homeward before her journey was half com-
pleted? He could not imagine. True, it was not his
present business to do so ; and yet, however much he en-
deavored to think of other things, he found this question
occupying his whole mind long after his return to the
village hotel. She was such a mystery, this woman, it
might easily be that she had never intended to go to Buf-
falo ; that she had only spoken of that place as the point
of her destination under the stress of her companion's
importunities, and that the real place for which she was
bound had been some spot very much nearer home. The
fact, that her baggage had consisted only of a small .bag
that she carried on her arm, would lend probability to this
idea, yet, such was the generous character of the young
detective, he hesitated to give credit to this suspicion, and
indeed took every pains to disabuse himself of it by in-
quiring of the ticket.agent, whether it was true, as he had
heard, that Miss Dare had left town on that day for a
visit to her friends in Buffalo.
He received for his reply that she had bought a ticket


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 75
for that place, though she evidently had not used it, a
fact which seemed at least to prove she was honest in the
expression of her intentions that morning, whatever altera-
tion may have taken place in her plans during the course
of her journey.
Mr. Byrd did not enjoy his supper that night, and was
heartily glad when, in a few moments after its comple-
tion, Mr. Ferris came in for a chat and a cigar.
They had many things to discuss. First, their own
case now drawing to a successful close; next, the murder
of the day before; and lastly, the few facts which had
been elicited in regard to that murder, in the inquiry
which had that day been begun before the coroner.
Of the latter Mr. Ferris spoke with much interest. He
had attended the inquest himself, and, though he had not
much to communicate—the time having been mainly
taken up in selecting and swearing in a jury—a few wit-
nesses had been examined and certain conclusions
reached, which certainly added greatly to the impression
already made upon the public mind, that an affair of
great importance had arisen ; an affair, too, promising
more in the way of mystery than the simple nature of its
earlier manifestations gave them reason to suppose.
In the first place, the widow had evidently been as-
saulted with a deliberate purpose and a serious intent to
slay.
Secondly, no immediate testimony was forthcoming
calculated to point with unerring certainty to the guilty
party.


76 HAND AND RING.
. _-- ___ _--.......
To be sure, the tramp and the hunchback still offered
possibilities of suspicion; but even they were slight, the
former having been seen to leave the widow's house
without entering, and the latter having been proved be-
yond a question to have come into town on the morning
train and to have gone at once to court where he re-
mained till the time they all saw him disappear down the
street.
That the last.mentioned individual may have had some
guilty knowledge of the crime was possible enough. The
fact of his having wiped himself out so completely as to
elude all search, was suspicious in itself, but if he was
connected with the assault it must have been simply as an
accomplice employed to distract public attention from
the real criminal; and in a case like this, the interest
naturally centres with the actual perpetrator; and the
question was now and must be : Who was the man who,
in broad daylight, dared to enter ahouse situated like
this in a.thickly populated street, and kill with a blow an
inoffensive woman ? .
“ I cannot imagine," declared Mr. Ferris, as his com-
munication reached this point. “It looks as if she had
an enemy, but what enemy could such a person as she
possess—a woman who always did herown work, attended '
to her own affairs, and made it an especial rule of'her
life never to meddle with those of anybody else ? "
“Was she such a woman?" inquired Mr. Byrd, to
whom as yet no knowledge had come of the widow's life,
habits, or character.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO.
“ Yes. In all the years I have been in this town I have
never heard of her visiting any one or encouraging any
one to visit her. Had it not been for Mr. Orcutt, she
would have lived the life of a recluse. As it was, she was
the most methodical person in her ways that I ever knew.
At just such an hour she rose ; at just such an hour put
on her kettle, cooked her meal, washed her dishes, and sat
herself down to her sewing or whatever work it was she
had to do. The dinner was the only meal that waited,'
and that, Mr. Orcutt says, was always ready and done to
a turn at whatever moment he chose to present himself."
“ Had she no intimates, no relatives ? ” asked Mr.
Byrd, remembering that fragment of a letter he had read
—a letter which certainly contradicted this assertion in
regard to her even and quiet life.
“ None that I am aware of," was the response. “Wait,
I believe I have been told she has a nephew somewhere-
a sister's son, for whom she had some regard and to whom
she intended to leave her money."
“She had money, then ? ”
“ Some five thousand, maybe. Reports differ about
such matters."
“ And this nephew, where does he live ? ”
“I cannot tell you. I don't know as any one can. My
remembrances in regard to him are of the vaguest char-
acter."
“Five thousand dollars is regarded as no mean sum in
a town like this," quoth Mr. Byrd, carelessly.


78 . HAND AND RING.
.‘,.r
“I know it. She is called quite rich by many. How
she got'her money no one knows; for when she first
came here she was so poor she had to eat and sleep all in
one room. Mr. Orcutt paid her something for his daily
dinner, of course, but that could not have enabled her to
put ten dollars in the bank as she has.done every week
for the last ten years. And to all appearances she has
done nothing else for her living. You see, we have paid
attention to henaffairs, if she has paid none to ours."
Mr. Byrd again remembered that scrap of a letter which
had been show.n him by the coroner, and thought to him-
self that their knowledge was in all probability less than
they supposed.
“Who was that horrid crone I saw shouldering herself
through the crowd that collected around the gate yester-
day?” was his remark, however. “ Do you remember a
wizen, toothless old wretch, whose eye has more of the
Evil One in it than that of many a young thief you see
locked up in the county jails ? "
“No; that is, I wonder if you mean Sally Perkins.
She is old enough and ugly enough to answer your
description ; and, now I think of it, she has a way of leer-
ing at you as you go by that is slightly suggestive of a
somewhat bitter knowledge of the world. What makes
you ask about her ? "
“Because she attra‘cted'my attention, I suppose. You
must remember that I don't know any of these people,
and that an especially vicious.looking person. like her
would be apt to awaken my curiosity."
I


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 79
“ I see, I see ; but, in this case, I doubt if it leads to
much. Old Sally is a hard one, no doubt. But I don't
believe she ever contemplated a murder, much less accom-
plished it. It would take too much courage, to say
nothing of strength. It was a man's hand struck that
blow, Mr. Byrd."
“ Yes," was the quick reply—a reply given somewhat
too quickly, perhaps, for it made Mr. Ferris look up in-
quiringly at the young man.
“You take considerable interest in the affair," he re-
marked, shortly. “ Well, I do not wonder. Even my old
blood has been somewhat fired by its peculiar features.
I foresee that your detective instinct will soon lead you to
risk a run at the game."
“ Ah, then, you see no objection to my trying for the
scent, if the coroner persists in demanding it ? ” inquired
Mr. Byrd, as he followed the other to the door.
“ On the contrary," was the polite response.
And Mr. Byrd found himself satisfied on that score.
Mr. Ferris had no sooner left the room than the coroner
' came in.
“ Well," cried he, with no unnecessary delay, “ I want
you."
Mr. Byrd rose.
“ Have you telegraphed to New York?" he asked.
“ Yes, and expect an answer every minute. There will
be no difliculty about that. The superintendent is my
friend, and will not be likely to cross me in my expressed
wish."


So HAND AND RING.
. .....-- ._':.....=,"
“But
“We have no time for buts," broke in the coroner.
“The inquest begins in earnest to.morrow, and the one
witness we most want has not yet been found. I mean
the man or the woman who can swear to seeing some one

” essayed the detective.
approach or enter the murdered woman's house between
the time the milkman left it at half.past eleven and the
hour she was found by Mr. Orcutt, lying upon the floor
of her dining.room in a dying condition. That such a
witness exists I have no doubt. A street in which there
are six houses, every one of which has to be passed by
the person entering Widow Clemmens' gate, must pro-
duce one individual, at least, who can swear to what I
want. To be sure, all whom I have questioned so far say
that they were either eating dinner at the time or were
in the kitchen serving it up ; but, for all that, there were
plenty who saw the tramp, and two women, at least, who
are ready to take their oath that they not only saw him,
but watched him long enough to observe him go around
to the Widow Clemmens' kitchen door and turn about
.again and come away as if for some reason he had
changed his mind about entering. Now, if there were
two witnesses to see all that, there must have been one
somewhere to notice that other person, known or unknown,
who went through the street but a few minutes before
the tramp. At all events, I believe such a witness can
be found, and I mean to have him if I call up every man,
woman, and child who was in the lane at the time. But


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 8!
a little foreknowledge helps a coroner wonderfully, and
if you will aid me by making judicious inquiries round
about, time will be gained, and, perhaps, a clue obtained
that will lead to a direct knowledge of the perpetrator
of this crime."
“But," inquired the detective, willing, at least, to dis-
cuss the subject with the coroner, “ is it absolutely neces-
sary that the murderer should have advanced from the
street? Is there no way he could have reached the house
from the back, and so have eluded the gaze of the
neighbors round about? ”
“No; that is, there is no regular path there, only a
stretch of swampy ground, any thing but pleasant to travel
through. Of course a man with a deliberate purpose be-
fore him might pursue that route and subject himself to
all its inconveniences ; but I would scarcely expect it of
one who—who chose such an hour for his assault," the
coroner explained, with a slight stammer of embarrass-
ment that did not escape the detective's notice. “ Nor
shall I feel ready to entertain the idea till it has been
proved that no person, with the exception of those already
named, was seen any time during that fatal half.hour to .-
advance by the usual way to the widow's house."
“Have you questioned the tramp, or in any way re-
ceived from him an intimation of the reason why he did
not go into the house after he came to it ?"
“ He said he heard voices quarrelling."
H !n


82 HAND AND RING.
.__ _. ._ .». »-.~.
“ Of course he was not upon his oath, but as the state-
ment was volunteered, we have some right to credit it,
perhaps."
“ Did he say ”—it was Mr. Byrd now who lost a trifle
of his fluency—“what sort of voices he heard ? ”
“ No; he is an ignorant wretch, and is moreover
thoroughly frightened. I don't believe he would know
a cultivated from an uncultivated voice, a gentleman's
from a quarryman's. At all events, we cannot trust to
his discrimination."
Mr. Byrd started. This was the last construction he
had expected to be put upon his question. Flushing a
trifle, he looked the coroner earnestly in the face. But
that gentleman was too absorbed in the train of thought
raised by his own remark to notice the look, and Mr.
Byrd, not feeling any too well assured of his own position,
forbore to utter the words that hovered on his tongue.
“I have another commission for you," resumed the
coroner, after a moment. “ Here is a name which I wish
I!
you would look at .
But at this instant a smart tap was heard at the door,
and a boy entered with the expected telegram from New
York. Dr. Tredwell took it, and, after glancing at its
contents with an annoyed look, folded up the paper he
was about to hand to Mr. Byrd and put it slowly back
into his pocket. He then referred again to the tele-
gram.
“ It is not what I expected," he said, shortly, after a


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 83
moment of perplexed thought. “ It seems that the super-
intendent is not disposed to accommodate me." And he
tossed over the telegram.
Mr. Byrd took it and read :
“Expect a suitable man by the midnight express. He will bring
a letter."
A flush mounted to the detective's brow.
“ You see, sir," he observed, “ I was right when I told
you I was not the man."
“I don't know," returned the other, rising. “ I have
not changed my opinion. The man they send may be
very keen and very well.up in his business, but I doubt
if he will manage this case any better than you would
have done," and he moved quietly toward the door.
“ Thank you for your too favorable opinion of my
skill," said Mr. Byrd, as he bowed the other out. “ I am
sure the superintendent is right. I am not much accus-
tomed to work for myself, and was none too eager to take
the case in the first place, as you will do me the justice to
remember. I can but feel relieved at this shifting of the
responsibility upon shoulders more fitted to bear it."
Yet, when the coroner was gone, and he sat down alone. 3
by himself to review the matter, he found he was in re-
ality more disappointed than he cared to confess. Why,
he scarcely knew. There was no lessening of the shrink-
' ing he had always felt from the possible developments
which .an earnest inquiry into the causes of this crime
might educe. Yet, to be severed in this way from all


84 HAND AND RING.
professional interest in the pursuit cut him so deeply that,
in despite of his usual good.sense and correct judgment,
he was never nearer sending in his resignation than he
was in that short half.hour which followed the departure
of Dr. Tredwell. To distract his thoughts, he at last
went down to the bar.room.
._ ... ......-. ._-_,-rs


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 85
VI.
THE SKILL OF AN ARTIST.
A hit, avery palpable hlt.—H1u
..rr.
H E found it occupied by some half.dozen men,
one of whom immediately attracted his atten-
tion, by his high.bred air and total absorption in the
paper he was reading. He was evidently a stranger, and,
though not without some faint marks of a tendency to
gentlemanly dissipation, was, to say the least, more than
ordinarily good.looking, possessing a large, manly figure,
and a fair, regular.featured face, above which shone a
thick crop of short curly hair of a peculiarly bright
blond color. He was sitting at a small table, drawn
somewhat apart from the rest, and was, as I have said,
engrossed with a newspaper, to the utter exclusion of any
apparent interest in the talk that was going on at the
other end of the room. And yet this talk was of the
most animated description, and was seemingly of a nature
to attract the attention of the most indifferent. At all
events Mr. Byrd considered it so; and, after one com-
prehensive glance at the elegant stranger, that took in not
only the personal characteristics I have noted, but also
the frown of deep thought or anxious care that furrowed
a naturally smooth forehead, he passed quietly up the


86 HAND AND RING.
room and took his stand among the group of loungers
there assembled.
Mr. Byrd was not unknown to the habitulr of that
place, and no cessation took place in the conversation.
They were discussing an occurrence slight enough in
itself, but made interesting and dramatic by the uncon-
scious enthusiasm of the chief speaker, a young fellow of
indifferent personal appearance, but with a fervid flow of
words and a knack at presenting a subject that reminded
you of the actor's power, and made you as anxious to
watch his gesticulations as to hear the words that accom-
panied them.
“ I tell you," he was saying, “that it was just a leaf out
of a play. I never saw its equal off the stage. She was
so handsome, so impressive in her trouble or anxiety, or
whatever it was that agitated her, andhe so dark, and so
determined in Iris trouble or anxiety, or whatever it was
that agitated him. They came in at different doors, she
at one side of the depot and he at another, and they met
just where I could see them both, directly in the centre
of the room. ‘ You !' was her involuntary cry, and she
threw up her hands before her face just as if she had seen
a ghost or a demon. An equal exclamation burst from
him, but he did not cover his eyes, only stood and looked
at her as if he were turned to stone. In another moment
she dropped her hands. ‘ Were you coming to see me?'
came from her lips in a whisper so fraught with secret
horror and anguish that it curdled my blood to hear it.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 87
‘ Were you coming to see me ? ' was his response, uttered
in an equally suppressed voice and with an equal inten-
sity of expression. And then, without either giving an
answer to the other's question, they both shrank back,
and, turning, fled with distracted looks, each by the way
they had come, the two doors closing with a simultaneous
bang that echoed through that miserable depot like a
knell. 'There were not many folks in the room just at
that minute, but I tell you those that were looked at each
other as they had not done before and would not be
likely to do again. Some unhappy tragedy underlies such
a meeting and parting,.gentlemen, and I for one would
rather not inquire what."
“But the girl--the man—did n't you sec them again
before you left?" asked an eager voice from the group.
“The young lady," remarked the other, “ was on the
train that brought me here. The gentleman went the
other way."
“Oh ! " “Ah ! " and “ Where did she get off?" rose
in a somewhat deafening clamor around him.’
“ I did not observe. She seemed greatly distressed, if
not thoroughly overcome, and observing her pull down
her veil, I thought she did not relish my inquiring looks,
andas I could not sit within view of her and not watch
her, I discreetly betook myself into the smoking.car,
where I stayed till we arrived at this place."
“ Hum ! " “ Ha! ” “ Curious !" rose in chorus once
more, and then, the general sympathies of the crowd


88 HAND AND RING.
being exhausted, two or three or more of the group
sauntered up to the bar, and the rest sidled restlessly out
of the room, leaving the enthusiastic speaker alone with
Mr. Byrd.
“ A strange scene ! " exclaimed the latter, infusing just
enough of seeming interest into his usually nonchalant
tone to excite the vanity of the person he addressed, and
make him more than ever ready to talk. “ I wish I had
been in your place," continued Mr. Byrd, almost enthu.I
siastically. “ I am sure I could have made a picture of
that scene that would have been very telling in the
gazette I draw for."
“ Do you make pictures for papers ? " the young fellow
inquired, his respect visibly rising.
“ Sometimes," the imperturbable detective replied, and
in so doing told no more than the truth. He had a rare
talent for off.hand sketching, and not infrequently made
use of it to increase the funds of the family.
“Well, that is something I would like to do," acknowl-
edged the youth, surveying the other over with curious
eyes. “ But I hav' n't a cent's worth of talent for it. I
can see a scene in my mind now—this one for instance—-
just as plain as I can see you ; all the details of it, you
know, the way they stood, the clothes they wore, thelooks
on their faces, and all that, but when I try to put it on
paper, why, I just can't, that 's all."
"‘ Your forte lies another way," remarked Mr. Byrd.’
“ You can present a scene so vividly that a person who


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 89'
had not seen it for himself, might easily put it on paper
just from your description. See now ! ” And he caught
up a sheet of paper from the desk and carried it to a side
table. “ Just tell me what depot this was in."
The young fellow, greatly interested at once, leaned
over the detective's shoulder and eagerly replied : “ The
depot at Syracuse."
“Mr. Byrd nodded and made a few strokes with his
pencil on the paper before him.
“ How was the lady dressed?" he next asked.
“In blue; dark blue cloth, fitting like a glove. Fine
figure, you know, very tall and unusually large, but per-
fect, I assure you, perfect. Yes, that is very like it," he
went on watching the quick, assured strokes of the other
with growing wonder and an unbounded admiration.
“You have caught the exact poise of the head, as I live,'
and—yes, a large hat with two feathers, sir, two feathers
drooping over the side, so ; a bag on the arm ; two floun-
ces on the skirt; a—oh 1 the face ? Well, handsome,
sir, very handsome ; straight nose, large eyes, determined
,mouth, strong, violently agitated expression. Well, I will
give up! A photograph could n't have done her better
justice. You are a genius, sir, a genius ! "
Mr. Byrd received this tribute to his skill with some
confusion and a deep blush, which he vainly sought to
hide by bending lower over his work. .
"The man, now," he suggested, with the least percepti-
ble change in his voice, that, however, escaped the atten-


90 HAND AND RING.
. ._ -._._ -.-.-
tion of his companion. “ What was he like ; young or
old ? "
. “Well, young—ab0ut twenty.five I should say; me-
dium height, but 'very firmly and squarely built, with a
strong face, large mustache, brilliant eyes, and a lo0k—I
-‘ cannot describe it, but you have caught that of the lady
so well, you will, doubtless, succeed in getting his also."
But Mr. Byrd's pencil moved with less certainty now,
and it was some time before he could catch even the pe-
culiarly sturdy aspect of the figure which made this un-
known gentleman, as the young fellow declared, look like
a modern Hercules, though he was far from being either
large or tall. The face, too, presented difiiculties he was
far from experiencing in the case of the lady, and the
young fellow at his side was obliged to make several sug-
gestions such as:—“ A little more hair on the forehead, if
you please-—there was quite a lock showing beneath his
hat ; " or, “ A trifle less sharpness to the chin,—so ; " or,
“ Stay, you have it too square now; tone it down a hair's
breadth, and you will get it," before he received even the
somewhat hesitating acknowledgment from the other of :
“ There, that is something like him ! "
But he had not expected to succeed very well in this
part of the picture, and was sufficiently pleased to have
gained a very correct notion of the style of clothing the
gentleman wore, which, it is needless to state, was most
faithfully reproduced in the sketch, even if the exact
expression of the strong and masculine face was not.


THE GENTLEMAN. FROM TOLEDO. 9I
“ A really remarkable bit of work," admitted the young
fellow when the whole was completed. “ And as true to
the scene, too, as half the illustrations given in the weekly
papers. Would you mind letting me have it as a souve-
nir ? " he eagerly inquired. “ I would like to show it to
a chap who was with me at the time. The likeness to the
lady is wonderful."
But Mr. Byrd, with his most careless air, had already
thrust the picture into his pocket, from which he refused
to withdraw it, saying, with an easy laugh, that it might
come in play with him some time, and that he could not
afford to part with it. At which remark the young fellow
looked disappointed and vaguely rattled some coins he
had in his pocket ; but, meeting with no encouragement
from the other, forbore to press his request, and turned it
into an invitation to join him in a social glass at the bar.
To this slight token of appreciation Mr. Byrd did not
choose to turn a deaf ear. So the drinks being ordered,
he proceeded to clink glasses with the youthful stranger,
taking the opportunity, at the same time, of glancing over
to the large, well.built man whose quiet absorption in the
paper he was reading had so attracted his attention when
he first came in. —
To his surprise he found that person just as engrossed
in the news as ever, not a feature or an eyelash appearing
to have moved since the time he looked at him last.
Mr. Byrd was so astonished at this that when he left
. the room a few minutes later he took occasion in passing
the gentleman, to glance at the paper he was studying so


92 HAND AND RING.
industriously, and, to his surprise, found it to be nothing
more nor less than the advertising sheet of the New York
Heralal
“ A fellow of my own craft," was his instantaneous con-
clusion. But a moment's consideration assured him that
this could not be, as no detective worthy the name would
place so little value upon the understanding of those
about him as to sit for a half.hour with his eyes upon a
sheet of paper totally devoid of news, no matter what his
purpose might be, or how great was his interest in the con-
versation to which he was secretly listening. No; this gen-
tleman was doubtless what he seemed to be, a mere stran-
ger, with something of a serious and engrossing nature
upon his mind, or else he was an amateur, who for some
reason was acting the part of a detective without either
the skill or experience of one.
Whichever theory might be true, this gentleman was a
person who at this time and in this place was well worth
watching: that is, if a man had any reason for interest-
ing himself in the pursuit of possible clues to the mystery
of Mrs. Clemmens' murder. But Mr. Byrd felt that he
no longer possessed a professional right to such interest ;
so, leaving behind him this fine.looking gentleman,
together with all the inevitable conjectures which the
latter's peculiar manner had irresistibly awakened, he
proceeded to regain his room and enter upon that con-
templation of the picture he had just made, which was
naturally demanded by his regard for one of the persons
there depicted.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 93
It was a vigorous sketch, and the slow blush crept up
and dyed Mr. Byrd's forehead as he gazed at it and re-
alized the perfection of the likeness he had drawn of Miss
Dare. Yes, that was her form, her face, her expression,
her very self.
heroine of the strange scene enacted that day in the.
Syracuse depot ; a scene to which, by means of this im-
promptu sketch, he had now become as nearly a witness
as any one could hope for who had not been actually upon
And he had been so anxious to
the spot'. Strange !
know what had altered the mind of this lady and sent her
back to Sibley before her journey was half completed—
had pondered so long and vainly upon the whys and
wherefores of an action whose motive he had never ex-
pected to understand, but which he now saw suggested in
a scene that seriously whetted, if it did not thoroughly
satisfy, his curiosity.
The moment he had chosen to portray was that in
which the eyes of the two met and their first instinctive
recoil took place. Turning his attention from the face
of the lady and bestowing it upon that .'of the man, he
perceived there the horror and shrinking which he had
imprinted so successfully upon hers. That the expression
was true, though the countenance was not, he had no
doubt.
history, recoiled from a meeting with Imogene Dare as
The man, whatever his name, nature, calling, or
passionately as she did from one with him. Both had
Started from home with a simultaneous intention of seek-
ing the other, and yet, at the first recognition of this
She it was and no other who had been the --


94 HAND AND RING.
fact, both'had started and drawn back as if death rather
than life had confronted them in each other's faces.
What did it mean ? What secret of a deep and deadly
nature could lie between these two, that a scene of such
evident import could take place between them? He
dared not think; he could do nothing but gaze upon the
figure of the man he had portrayed, and wonder if he
would be able to identify the original in case he ever met
him. The face was more or less a failure, of course, but
the form, the cut of the clothes, the manner of carriage,
and the general aspect of strong and puissant manhood
which distinguished the whole figure, could not be so far
from correct but that, with a hint from surrounding cir-
’ cumstances, he would know the man himself when he saw
him. At all events, he meant to imprint the possible
portrait upon his mind in case—- in case what ? Paus-
ing he asked himself this question with stern determina-
tion, and could find no answer.
“ I will burn the sketch at once, and think of it and her
no more," he muttered, half.rising.
But he did not do it. Some remembrance crossed his
mind of what the young fellow downstairs had said about
retaining it as a souzlenir, and he ended in folding it up
and putting it away somewhat carefully in his memoran-
dum.book, with a vow that he would leave Sibley and its
troublous mystery at the first moment of release that he
could possibly obtain. The pang which this decision cost
him convinced him that it was indeed high time he
did so.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 95'
VII.
MISS FIRMAN.
I confess with all humility that at times the line of demarcation between
truth and fiction is rendered so indefinite and indistinct, that I cannot always
determine, with unerring certainty, whether an event really happened to me,
or whether I only dreamed it.-Lom;i=au.ow.
D R. BYRD, upon waking next morning, found
himself disturbed bya great perplexity. Were
the words then ringing in his ears, real words, which he
had overheard spoken outside of his door some time dur-
ing the past night, or were they merely the empty utter-
ances of a more than usually vivid dream?
He could not tell. He could remember the very tone
of voice in which he fancied them to have been spoken—
a tonewhich he had no difficulty in recognizing as that
of the landlord of the hotel ; could even recall the faint
sounds of bustle which accompanied them, as though the
person using them had been showing another person
through the hall; but beyond that, all was indistinct and
dream.like. '
The words were these :
“Glad to see you back, sir. This murder following so
close upon your visit must have been a great surprise. A
sad occurrence, that, sir, and a very mysterious one.
Hope you have some information to give."
“ If it is a remembrance and such words were uttered


4
90 HAND AND RING.
outside of my door last night," argued the young detec-
tive to himself, “the guest who called them forth can be
no other than the tall and florid gentleman whom I en-
countered in the bar.room. But is it a remembrance, or
only a chimera of my own overwrought brain struggling
with a subject it will not let drop? As Shakespeare
says, ‘ That is the question ! ' "
Fortunately, it was not one which it behooved him to
decide. So, for the twentieth time, he put the subject by
. and resolved to think of it no more.
But perplexities of this kind are not so easily dismissed,
and more than once during his hurried and solitary break-
fast, did he ask himself whether, in case the words were
real, he had not found in the landlord of this very hotel
the one witness for which the coroner was so diligently
seeking.
A surprise awaited him after breakfast, in the sudden
appearance at his room door of the very gentleman last
alluded to.
“ Ha, Byrd," said he, with cheerful vivacity : “ here is a
line from. the superintendent which may prove interesting
to you.”
And with a complacent smile, Dr. Tredwell handed
over a letter which had been brought to him by the
detective who had that morning arrived from New York.
With a dim sense of foreboding which he would have
found diflicult to explain, Mr. Byrd opened the note
and read the following words:
». _» _ ...,_..-.-.-_M


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 97
DEAR SIR,—I send with this a man fully competent to conduct a
case of any ordinary difficulty. I acknowledge it is for our interest
that you employ him to the exclusion of the person mentioned in your
letter. But if you or that person think that he can render you any
real assistance by his interference, he is at liberty to act in his
capacity of detective in as far as he can do so without divulging too
widely the secret of his connection with the force. i i.
“ The superintendent need not be concerned," said Mr.
Byrd, -returning the note with a constrained bow. “I
shall not interfere in this matter."
“ You will miss a good thing, then," remarked the
coroner, shortly, looking keenly at the young man.
“I cannot help it," observed the other, with a quick
sigh of impatience or regret. “ I should have to see my
duty very clearly and possess the very strongest reasons
for interfering before I presumed to offer either advice or
assistance after a letter of this kind."
“And who knows but what such reasons may yet pre-
sent themselves?" ventured the coroner. Then seeing '
the young man shake his head, made haste to add in the
business.like tone of one preparing to take his leave,
“ At all events the matter stands open for the present ;
and if during the course of to.day's inquiry you see fit
to change your mind, it will be easy enough for you to
notify me." And without waiting for any further remon-
strance, he gave a quick nod and passed hastily out.
The state of mind in which he left Mr. Byrd was any
thing but enviable. Not that the young man's former
-determination to let this matter alone had been in any


98 HAND AND RING.
wise shaken by the unexpected concession on the part of
the. superintendent, but that the final hint concerning the
inquest had aroused his old interest to quite a formidable
degree, and, what was worse, had reawakened certain
feelings which since last night it had been his most
earnest endeavor to subdue. He felt like a man pursued
by an implacable fate, and dimly wondered whether he
would be allowed to escape before it was too late to save
himself from lasting uneasiness, if not lifelong regret.
A final stroke of business for Mr. Ferris kept him at
the court.house most of the morning; but his duty in
that direction being at an end, he no longer found any
excuse for neglecting the task imposed upon him by the
coroner. He accordingly proceeded to the cottage where
the inquest was being held, and finding each and every
available room there packed to its uttermost by interested
spectators, took up his stand on the outside of a curtained
window, where with but a slight craning of his neck he
could catch a very satisfactory view of the different wit-
nesses as they appeared before the jury. The day was
warm and he was by no means uncomfortable, though he
could have wished that the advantages of his position had
occasioned less envy in the breasts of the impatient crowd
that was slowly gathering at his back; or, rather, that
their sense of these advantages might have been-expressed.
in some more pleasing way than by the various pushes he
received from the more or less adventurous spirits who
endeavored to raise themselves over his shoulder or insin-
uate themselves under his arms.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO.
99.
The room into which he looked was the sitting.room,
and it was, so far as he could judge in the first casual
glance he threw into it, occupied entirely by strangers.
This was a relief. Since it had become his duty to
attend this inquiry, he wished to do so with a free mind,
unhindered by the watchfulness of those who knew his
interest in the affair, or by the presence of persons around
whom his own imagination had involuntarily woven a net-
work of suspicion that made his observation of them at
once significant and painful.
The proceedings were at a standstill when he first came
upon the scene.
A witness had just stepped aside, who, from the impa-
tient shrugs of many persons present, had evidently added
little if any thing to the testimony already given. Taking
advantage of the moment, Mr. Byrd leaned forward and
addressed a burly man who sat directly under him.
“What have they been doing all the morning?" he
asked. “ Any thing important ? ”
“No," was the surly reply. “A score of folks have
had their say, but not one of them has told any thing
worth listening to. Nobody has seen any thing, nobody
knows any thing. The murderer might have risen up
through the floor to deal his blow, and having given it,
sunk back again with the same supernatural claptrap, for
all these stupid people seem to know about him."
The man had a loud voice, and as he made no attempt
to modulate it, his words were heard on all sides. Natu-


IOO HAND AND RING.
rally many heads were turned toward him, and more than
one person looked at him with an amused smile. Indeed,
of all the various individuals in his immediate vicinity,
only one forbore to take any notice of his remark. This
was a heavy, lymphatic, and somewhat abstracted.looking
fellow of nondescript appearance, who stood stiff and
straight as an exclamation point against the jamb of the
door.way that led into the front hall.
“But have no facts been obtained, no conclusions
reached, that would serve to awaken suspicion or put
justice on the right track?" pursued Mr. Byrd, lowering
his voice in intimation for the other to do the same.
But that other was of an obstinate tendency, and his
reply rose full and loud.
“ No, unless it can be 'considered proved that it is only
folly to try and find out who commits a crime in these
days.' Nothing else has come to light, as far as I can see,
and that much we all knew before." .
A remark of this kind was not calculated to allay the
slight inclination to mirth which his former observation
had raised; but the coroner rapping with his gavel on
the table at this moment, every other consideration was
lost in the natural curiosity which every one felt as to who
the next witness would be.
But the coroner had something to say before he called
for further testimony.
“ Gentlemen," he remarked, in a clear and commanding
tone that at once secured attention and awakened inter-
. --vi-X__-'_ .,_.--_/.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. IOI
est, “ we have spent the morning in examining the per-
sons who live in this street, with 'a view to ascertaining,
if possible, who was in conversation with Mrs. Clemmens
at the time the tramp went up to her door."
Was it a coincidence, or was there something in the
words themselves that called forth the stir that at this
—_--—_1.j-'
moment took place among the people assembled directly '
before Mr. Byrd? It was of the slightest character, and
was merely momentary in its duration; nevertheless, it
attracted his attention, especially as it seemed to have its
origin in a portion of the room shut off from his observa-
tion by the corner of the wall already alluded to.
The coroner proceeded without pause.
“The result, as you know, has not been satisfactory.
No one seems to be able to tell us who it was that visited
Mrs. Clemmens on that day. -I now propose to open
another examination of a totally. different character,
which I hope may be more conclusive in its results.
Miss Firman, are you prepared to give your testimony ?”
Immediately a tall, gaunt, but pleasant.faced woman
arose from the dim recesses of the parlor. She was
' dressed with decency, if not taste, and took her stand
before the jury with a lady.like yet perfectly assured
air that promised well for the correctness and discretion
of her answers. The coroner at once addressed her.
“Your full name, madam ?"
“Emily Letitia Firman, sir." -. .
“Emily ! " ejaculated Mr. Byrd, to himself, with a


I02 HAND AND RING.
throb of sudden interest. “That is the name of the
murdered woman's correspondent."
“Your birthplace," pursued the coroner, “and the
place of your present residence? "
“I was born in Danbury, Connecticut," was the reply,
“and I am living in Utica, where I support my aged
mother by dress.making."
“How are you related to Mrs. Clemmens, the lady who
was found murdered here two days ago?"
“I am her second cousin; her grandmother and my
mother were sisters."
“ Upon what terms have you always lived, and what
can you tell us of her other relatives and connections?"
“ We have always been friends, and I can tell you all
that is generally known of the two or three remaining
persons of her blood and kindred. They are, first, my
mother and myself, who, as I have before said, live in
Utica, where I am connected with the dress.making
establishment of Madame Trebelle; and, secondly, a
nephew of hers, the son of a favorite brother, whom she
. has always supported, and to whom she has frequently
avowed her intention of leaving her accumulated savings."
“The name of this gentleman and his place of resi-
dence ? ”
“His name is Mansell—Craik Mansell—and he lives
in Buffalo, where he has a situation of some trust in the
large paper manufactory of Harrison, Goodman, &
Chamberlin."
::€ xv. .


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I03
Buffalo ! Mr. Byrd gave an involuntary start, and be-
came, if possible, doubly attentive.
The coroner's questions went on.
“ Do you know this young man?"
“ Yes, sir. He has been several times to our house in
the course of the last five years."
“What can you tell us of his nature and disposition,
as well as of his regard for the woman who proposed to
benefit him so materially by her will?"
“Well, sir," returned Miss F irman, “ it is hard to read
the nature and feelings of any man who has much char-
acter, and Craik Mansell has a good deal of character.
But I have always thought him a very honest and capable
young man, who might do us credit some day, if he were
allowed to have his own way and not be interfered with
too much. As for his feelings toward his aunt, they were
doubtless those of gratitude, though I have never heard
him express himself in any very affectionate terms toward
her, owing, no doubt, to a natural reticence of disposition
which has been observable in him from childhood."
“.You have, however, no reason to believe he cherished
any feelings of animosity toward his benefactress ? " con-
tinued the coroner, somewhat carelessly, “ or possessed
any inordinate desire after the money she was 'expecting
to leave him at her death ?” '
“No, sir. Both having minds of their own, they fre-
quently disagreed, especially on business matters ; but
there was never any bitterness between them, as far as I


104 HAND AND RING.
know, and I never heard him say any thing about his ex-
pectations one way or the other. He is a man of much
natural force, of strong, if not violent, traits of character ;
but he has too keen a sense of his own dignity to in-
timate the existence of desires so discreditable to him."
There was something in this reply and the impartial
aspect of the lady delivering it that was worthy of notice,
perhaps. And such it would have undoubtedly received
from Mr. Byrd, at least, if the words she had used in
characterizing this person had not struck him so deeply
that he forgot to note any thing further.
“A man of great natural force——of strong, if not
violent traits of character," he kept repeating to himself.
“ The description, as I live, of the person whose picture I
attempted to draw last night."
And, ignoring every thing else, he waited with almost
sickening expectation for the question that would link
this nephew of Mrs. Clemmens either to the tragedy
itself, or to that person still in the background, of whose
secret connection with a man of this type, he had
obtained so curious and accidental a knowledge.
l But it did not come. With a quiet abandonment of the
by no means exhausted topic, which convinced Mr. Byrd
that the coroner had plans and suspicions to which
the foregoing questions had given no clue, Dr. Tredwell
leaned slowly forward, and, after surveying the witness
with a glance of cautious inquiry, asked in a way to con-
centrate the attention of all present :


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I05
“ You say that you knew the Widow Clemmens well;
that you have always been on friendly terms with her,
and are acquainted with her affairs. Does that mean you
have been made a confidante of her troubles, her responsi-
bilities, and her cares ? "
“Yes, sir; that is, in as far as she ever made a. con-
fidant of any one. Mrs. Clemmens was not of a complain-
ing disposition, neither was she by nature very communi-
cative. Only at rare times did she make mention of
herself orher troubles : but when she did, it was invaria-
bly to me, sir—or so she used to say ; and she was
not a woman to deceive you in such matters."
“Very well, then, you are in a position to tell us some-
thing of her history, and why it is she kept herself so
close after she cameto this town ? ”
But Miss Firman uttered a vigorous disclaimer to this.
“ No, sir," said she, “ I am not. Mrs. Clemmens' history
was simple enough, but her reasons for living as she did
have never been explained. She was not naturally a
quiet woman, and, when a girl, was remarkable for
her spirits and fondness for company."
“ Has she had any great sorrow since you knew her-
any serious loss or disappointment that may have soured
her disposition, and turned her, as it were, against
the world ? "
“ Perhaps ; she felt the death of her husband very
much—indeed, has never been quite the same since
she lost him."


Io6 HAND AND RING.
“ And when was that, if you please P”
. “ Full fifteen years ago, sir ; just before she came
to this town."
“ Did you know Mr. Clemmens ? "
- “ No, sir ; none of us knew him. They were married in
some small village out West, where he died—well, I think
she wrote--a month if not less after their marriage. She
was iuconsolable for a time, and, though she consented to
come East, refused to take up her abode with any of
her relatives, and so settled in this place, where she
has remained ever since."
The manner of the coroner suddenly changed to one of
great impressiveness.
“ Miss Firman," he now asked, “ did it ever strike you
that the hermit life she led was due to any fear or appre-
hension which she may have secretly entertained?"
“Sh?"
The question was peculiar and no one wondered at the
start which the good woman gave. But what mainly
struck Mr. Byrd, and gave to the moment a seeming
importance, was the fact that she was not alone in her
surprise or even her expression of it ; that the indefinable
stir he had before observed had again taken place in the
crowd before him, and that this time there was no doubt
about its having been occasioned by the movements of a
person whose elbow he could just perceive projecting
beyond the door.way that led into the hall.
But there was no time for speculation as to whom this
__"_---..-__-- "‘._"*-we;


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I07
person might be. The coroner's questions were every
moment growing more rapid, and Miss Firman's answers
more interesting.
“ I asked," here the coroner was heard to say, “whether,
in your intercourse with Mrs. Clemmens, you have ever
had reason to suppose she was the victim of any Secret
or personal apprehension that might have caused her
to seclude herself as she did? Or let me put it in another
way. Can you tell me whether you know of any other
person besides this nephew of hers who is likely to
be benefited by Mrs. Clemmens' death ?"
“Oh, sir," was the hasty and somewhat excited reply,
“ you mean young Mr. Hildreth ! ”
The way in which this was said, together with the
slight flush of satisfaction or surprise which rose to the
coroner's brow, naturally awoke the slumbering excite-
A low
murmur ran through the rooms, amid which Mr. Byrd
ment of the crowd and made a small sensation.
thought he heard a suppressed but bitter exclamation.
He could not be sure of it, however, and had just made
up his mind that his ears had deceived him, when his
attention was attracted by a shifting in the position of
the sturdy, thick.set man who had been leaning against
the opposite wall, but who now crossed and took his stand
beside the jamb, on the other side of which sat the un-
known individual toward whom so many inquiring
glances had hitherto been directed.
The quietness with which this change was made, and


108 HAND AND RING.
the slight, almost imperceptible, alteration in the manner
of the person making it, brought a sudden enlightenment
to Mr. Byrd, and he at once made up his mind that this
dull, abstracted.looking nonentity leaning with such ap-
parent unconcern against the wall, was the new detective
who had been sent up that morning from New York.
His curiosity in regard to the identity of the individual
round the corner was not lessened by this. '
Meantime the coroner had answered the hasty ex-
clamation of the witness, by disclaiming the existence of
any special meaning of his own, and had furthermore
pressed the question as to who this Mr. Hildreth was.
She immediately answered : “A gentleman of Toledo,
sir ; a young man who could only come into his property
by the death of Mrs. Clemmens."
“ How ? You have not spoken of any such person as
connected with her."
“ No,” was her steady response ; “ nor was he so con-
nected by any tie of family or friendship. Indeed, I do
not know as they were ever acquainted, or, as for that
matter, ever saw each other's faces. The fact to which I
allude was simply the result of a will, sir, made by Mr.
Hildreth‘s grandfather." '
“ A will ? Explain yourself. I do not understand."
“Well, sir, I do not know much about the law, and
may make a dozen mistakes in telling you what you wish
to know ; but what I understand about the matter is this:
Mr. Hildreth, the grandfather of the gentleman of whom


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I09
I have just spoken, having a large property, which he
wanted to leave in bulk to his grandchildren,—their
father being a very dissipated and reckless man,—made
his will in such a way as to prevent its distribution
among his heirs till after the death of two persons whom
he mentioned by name. Of these two persons one was
the son of his head clerk, a young boy, who sickened and
died shortly after Mr. Hildreth himself, and the other my
cousin, the poor murdered woman, who was then a little
girl visiting the family. I do not know how she came to
be chosen by him for this purpose, unless it was that she
was particularly round and ruddy as a child, and looked
as if she might live for many years."
“And the Hildreths? What of them during these
years ?"
"Well, I cannot exactly say, as I never had any ac-
But I know that the
father, whose dissipated habits were the cause of this
quaintance with them myself.
peculiar will tying up the property, died some little time
ago ; also one or two of his children, but beyond that I
know little, except that the remaining heirs are a young
gentleman and one or two young girls, all of the worldli-
est and most fashionable description." .
The coroner, who had followed all this with the great-
est interest, now asked if she knew the first name of the
young gentleman.
“ Yes," said she, “ I do.
The coroner gave a satisfied nod, and remarked
It is Gouverneur."
._1<fi~


I10 HAND AND RING.
casually, “ It is not a common name," and then, leaning
forward, selected a paper from among several that lay on
the table before him. “ Miss Firman," he inquired, re-
taining this paper in his hand, “ do you know when it
was that Mrs. Clemmens first became acquainted with
.the fact of her name having been made use of in the
elder Mr. Hildreth's will ? "
“ Oh, years ago; when she first came of age, I be-
lieve."
“ Was it an occasion of regret to her? Did she ever
express herself as sorry for the position in which she
stood toward this family ? ”
“Yes, sir ; she did."
The coroner's face assumed a yet greater gravity, and
his manner became more and more impressive.
“ Can you go a step farther and say that she ever
acknowledged herself to have cherished apprehensions
of her personal safety, during these years of weary wait-
ing on the part of the naturally impatient heirs?"
A distressed look crossed the amiable spinster's face,
and she looked around at the jury with an expression
almost deprecatory in its nature.
“I scarcely know what answer to give," she hesitatingly
declared. “ It is a good deal to say that she was appre-
hensive; but I cannot help remembering that she once
told me her peace of mind had left her since she knew
there were persons in the world to whom her death would
be a matter of rejoicing. ‘ It makes me feel as if I were


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. III
keeping people out of their rights,' she remarked at the
same time. ‘And, though it is not my fault, I should
not be surprised if some day I had to suffer for it.' "
“ Was there ever any communication made to Mrs.
Clemmens by persons cognizant of the relation in which
she stood to these Hildreths ?-‘or any facts or gossip
detailed to her concerning them, that would seem to give
color to'her fears and supply her with any actual grounds
for her apprehensions ? ”
“ No; only such tales as came to her of their expen-
sive ways of living and somewhat headlong rush into all.
fashionable freaks and follies.”
“And Gouverneur Hildreth? Any special gossip in
regard to him? "
“ No ! ”
There are some noes that are equivalent to aflirma-
-tions.. This was one of ‘them. Naturally the coroner
pressed the question.
“I must request you to think again," he persisted.
Then, with a change of voice: “Are you sure you have
never heard any thing specially derogatory to this young
man, or that Mrs. Clemmens had not ? "
“I have friends in Toledo who speak of him as the
fastest man about town,.if that could be called deroga-
tory. As for Mrs. Clemmens, she may have heard as
much, and she may have heard more, I cannot say. I
know she always frowned when his father's name was
mentioned."
~- .


-'-_-__
II2 HAND AND RING.
“Miss Firman," proceeded the coroner, “in the long
years in which you have been more or less separated
from Mrs. Clemmens, you have, doubtless, kept up a
continued if not frequent correspondence with her? ”
“Yes, sir."
“ Do you think, from the commencement and general
tone of this letter, which I found lying half finished
on her desk, that it was written and intended for your-
self?"
Taking the letter from his outstretched hand, she
fumbled nervously for her glasses, put them on, and
then glanced hurriedly at the sheet, saying as she did
so :
“There can be no doubt of it. She had no other
friend whom she would have been likely to address as
‘ Dear Emily.' "
“ Gentlemen of the Jury, you have a right to hear the
words written by the deceased but a few hours, if not a
few minutes, previous to the brutal assault that has led to
the present inquiry. Miss Firman, as the letter was.in-
tended for yourself, will you be kind enough to read it
aloud, after which you will hand it over to the jury."
With a gloomy shake of her head, and a certain trem-
bling in her voice, that was due, perhaps, as much to
the sadness of her task as to any foreboding of the real
nature of the words she had to read, she proceeded to
comply:
" DEAR EMILY :—I don't know why I sit down to write to you
to.day. I have plenty to do, and morning is no time for indulging


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. IX3
in sentimentalities. But I feel strangely lonely and strangely anxious.
Nothing goes just to my mind, and somehow the many causes for
secret fear which I have always had, assume an undue prominence in
my mind. It is always so when I am not quite well. In vain I
reason with myself, saying that respectable people do not lightly
enter into crime. But there are so many to whom my death would
be more than welcome, that I constantly see myself in the act of
being —
“Good heavens!” ejaculated the spinster, dropping
the paper from her hand and looking dismally around
upon the assembled faces of the now deeply interested
spectators.
Seeing her dismay, a man who stood at the right of the
coroner, and who seemed to be an oflicer of the law,
quietly advanced, and picking up the paper she had let
fall, handed it to the jury. The coroner meanwhile
recalled her attention to herself.
“Miss Firman," said he, “allow me to put to you one
final question which, though it might not be called a
strictly legal one, is surely justified by the gravity of the
situation. If Mrs. Clemmens had finished this letter, and
you in due- - course had received it, what conclusion
would you have drawn from the words you have just
read ? "
“ I could have drawn but one, sir. I should have con-
sidered that tne solitary life led by my cousin was telling
upon her mind."
“But these terrors of which she speaks? To what and
whom would you have attributed them?"
“I don't like to say it, and I don't know as I am


l
II4 HAND AND RING.
justified in saying it, but it would have been impossible
for me, under the circumstances, to have thought of any
other source for them than the one we have already
. _ ._-. _
mentioned."
“ And that is?" inexorably pursued the coroner.
“ Mr. Gouverneur Hildreth."


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I15
VIII.
THE THICK.SET MAN,
Springs to catch woodcocks.—HAm.1rr.
I N the pause that followed, Miss Firman stepped
- aside, and Mr. Byrd, finding his attention released,
stole a glance toward the hall.way and its nearly concealed
occupant. He found the elbow in agitated movement,
and, as he looked at it, saw it disappear and a hand pro-
ject into'view, groping for the handkerchief which was,
doubtless, hidden in the hat which he now perceived
standing on the floor in the corner of the door.way. He
looked at that hand well. It was large, white, and
elegantly formed, and wore a seal ring of conspicuous
size upon the little finger. He had scarcely noticed this
ring, and wondered if others had seen it too, when the
hand plunged into the hat, and drawing out the kerchief,
vanished with it behind the jamb that had already hidden
so much from his view.
“ A fine gentleman's hand, and a fine gentleman's ring,”
was Mr. Byrd's mental comment; and he was about
to glance aside, when, to his great astonishment, he saw
the hand appear once more with the handkerchief in it,
but without the ring which a moment since had made it
such a conspicuous mark for his eyes.


I16 HAND AND RING.
v-_.__-..__._-_._'-_._.-
“ Our fine gentleman is becoming frightened," he
thought, watching the hand until it dropped the handker-
chief back into the hat. “ One does not take off a ring in
a company like this without a good reason." And
he threw a quick glance at the man he considered his
rival in the detective business.
But that worthy was busily engaged in stroking his chin
in a feeling way, strongly suggestive of a Fledgerby.like
-interest in his absent whisker; and well versed as
was Mr. Byrd in the ways of his fellow.detectives, he
found it impossible to tell whether the significant action
he had just remarked had escaped the attention of
this man or not. Confused if not confounded, he turned
back to the coroner, in a maze of new sensations, among
which a growing hope that his own former suspicions had
been of a wholly presumptuous character, rose pre-
dominant. ‘
He found that functionary preparing to make a remark.
“Gentlemen," said he ; “ you have listened to the
testimony of Mrs. Clemmens' most confidential friend,
and heard such explanations as she had to give, of
the special fears which Mrs. Clemmens acknowledges her-
self to have entertained in regard to her personal safety.
Now, while duly impressing upon you the necessity of not
laying too much stress upon the secret apprehensions of
a woman living a life of loneliness and seclusion, I still
consider it my duty to lay before you another bit of the
II
widow's writing, in which


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I17
Here he was interrupted by the appearance at his side
of a man with a telegram in his hand. In the pause
which followed his reading of the same, Mr. Byrd, with
that sudden impulse of interference which comes upon us
all at certain junctures, tore out a leaf from his memor-
andum.book, and wrote upon it some half dozen or
so words indicative of the advisability of examining the
proprietor of the Eastern Hotel as to the name and
quality of the several guests entertained by him on the
day of the murder; and having signed this communica-
tion with his initial letters H. B., looked about for a
messenger to carry' it to the coroner. He found one in
the person of a small boy, who was pressing with all his
might against his back, and having despatched him with
the note, regained his old position at the window, and
proceeded to watch, with a growing interest in the drama
before him, the result of his interference upon the
coroner.
He had not long to wait. The boy had no sooner
shown himself at the door with the note, than Dr.
Tredwell laid down the telegram he was perusing and
took this new communication. With a slight smile Mr.
Byrd was not slow in attributing to its true source,
he read the note through, then turned to the officer
at his side and gave him some command that sent him
from the room. He then took up the slip he was on the
point of presenting to the jury at the time he was
first interrupted, and continuing his remarks in reference
to it, said quietly :


I18 HAND AND RING.
-- _p.,.,..»\--_
“ Gentlemen, this paper which I here pass over to you,
was found by me in the recess of Mrs. Clemmens' desk at
the time I examined it for the address of Miss Firman.
It was in an envelope that had never been sealed, and
was, if I may use the expression, tucked away under a pile
of old receipts. The writing is similar to that used
in the letter you have just read, and the signature at-
tached to it is ‘Mary Ann Clemmens.' Will Mr. Black
of the jury read aloud the words he will there find
written ? "
Mr. Black, in whose hand the paper then rested,
looked up with a flush, and slowly, if not painfully, com-
plied: '
“ I desire "—such was the language of the writing before him-
“ that in case of any sudden or violent death on my part, the authori-
ties should inquire into the possible culpability of a gentleman living
in Toledo, Ohio, known by the name of Gouverneur Hildreth. He is
a man of no principle, and my distinct conviction is, that if such a
death should occur to me, it will be entirely due to his efiorts to gain
possession of property which cannot be at his full disposal until my
death.
" MARY ANN CLEMMENS, Sibley, N. Y."
“A serious charge!" quoth a juryman, breaking the.
universal silence occasioned by this communication from
the dead. .
“ I should think so," echoed the burly man in front of
Mr. Byrd. ’
But Mr. Byrd himself and the quiet man who leaned so
stiffly and abstractedly against the wall, said nothing. Per-
haps they found themselves sufficiently engaged in watch-


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I19
~» ..was
ing that half.seen elbow, which since the reading of this
last slip of paper had ceased all movement and remained
as stationary as though it had been paralyzed.
“ A charge which, as yet, is nothing but a charge," ob-
served the coroner. “ But evidence is not wanting," he
went on, “that Mr. Hildreth is not at home at this pres-
ent time, but is somewhere in this region, as will be seen
by the following telegram from the superintendent of the
Toledo police." And he held up to view, not the tele-
gram he had just received, but another which he had
taken from among the papers on the table before him :
“ Party mentioned not in T016d0- LB“ T01- the East on midnight
train (,5 Wednesday the 271}; inst. When last heard from was in Al.
bany. He has been living fast. and is well known to be in pecuniary
dlfiiculties, necessitating alarge and immediate amount of money.
Further particulars by letter. .
“ That, gentlemen, I received last night. To day,"
he continued, taking up the telegram that had just come
in, “ the following arrives :
" Fresh advices. Man you are in search of talked of suicide at
his club the other night. Seemed in a desperate Way, and said that
if something did not soon happen he should be a lost man. Horse-
flesh and unfortunate speculations have mined him. They say it will
take all he will ultimately receive to pay his debts.
“And below :
“ Suspected that he has been in 70111‘ WWII-"
A crisis was approaching round the corner. This, to
the skilled eyes of Mr. Byrd, was no longer doubtful.
Even if he had not observed the wondering glances cast
;~


I20 HAND AND RING.
__ . .§..-..-._.-'‘
in that direction by persons who could see the owner of
that now immovable elbow, he would have been assured
that all was not right, by the alert expression which had
now taken the place of the stolid and indifferent look
which had hitherto characterized the face of the man he
believed to be a detective.
A panther about to spring could not have looked more
threatening, and the wonder was, that there were no more
to observe this exciting by.play. Yet the panther did
not spring, and the inquiry went on.
“The witness I now propose to call," announced the
coroner, after a somewhat trying delay, “is the proprietor
of the Eastern Hotel. Ah, here he is. Mr. Symonds,
have you brought your register for the past week ? ”
“Yes, sir," answered the newcomer, with a good deal
of flurry in his manner and an embarrassed look about
him, which convinced Mr. Byrd that the words in regard
to whose origin he had been so doubtful that morning,
had been real words and no dream.
“ Very well, then, submit it, if you please, to the jury,
and tell us in the meantime whether you have entertained
at your house this week any guest who professed to come
from Toledo?”
“I don't know. I don't remember any such," began
the witness, in a stammering sort of way. “ We have
always a great many men from the West stopping at our
house, but I don't recollect any special one who registered
himself as coming from Toledo."
..


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I21
“ You, however, always expect your guests to put their
names in your book ?"
“ Yes, sir." -
-
There was something in the troubled look of the man
which aroused the suspicion of the coroner, and he was
about to address him with another question when one of
the jury, who was looking over the register, spoke up and
asked :
“Who is this Clement Smith who writes himself down
here as coming from Toledo ? "
“ Smith ?—Smith ?" repeated Symonds, going up to
the juryman and looking over his shoulder at the book.

" Oh, yes, the gentleman who came yesterday. He
But at this moment a slight disturbance occurring in
the other room, the witness paused and looked about him
with that same embarrassed look before noted. “He is
at the hotelnow," he added, with anattempt at ease,
transparent as it was futile.
The disturbance to which I have alluded was of a
peculiar kind. It was occasioned by the thick.set man
making the spring which, for some minutes, he had evident-
ly been meditating. It was not a tragic leap, however, but
a decidedly comic one, and had for its end and aim the
recovery of a handkerchief which he had taken from his
pocket at the moment when the witness uttered the name
of Smith, and, by a useless flourish in opening it, flirted
from his hand to the floor. At least, so the amused
throng interpreted the sudden dive which he made, and


I22 HAND AND RING.
the heedless haste that caused him to trip over the gentle-
man's hat that stood on the floor, causing it to fall and
another handkerchief to tumble out. But Mr. Byrd, who
had a detective's insight into the whole matter, saw
something more than appeared in the profuse apologies
which the thick.set man made, and the hurried manner
in which he gathered up the handkerchiefs and stood
looking at them before returning one to his pocket and
the other to its place in the gentleman's hat. Nor was
Mr. Byrd at all astonished to observe that the stand
which his fellow.detective took, upon resettling himself,
was much nearer the unseen gentleman than before, or
that in replacing the hat, he had taken pains to put it so
far to one side that the gentleman would be obliged to
rise and come around the corner in order to obtain it.
The drift of the questions propounded to the witness at
this moment opened his eyes too clearly for him to fail
any longer to understand the situation.
“ Now at the hotel ? " the coroner was repeating.
“And came yesterday? Why, then, did you look so em-
barrassed when I mentioned his name ?”
“ Oh—well—ah," stammered the man, “because he was
there once before, though his name is not registered but
once in the book."
“ He was? And on what day ?"
“ On Tuesday," asserted the man, with the sudden de-
cision of one who sees it is useless to attempt to keep
silence.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I23
“The day of the murder ?"
“Yes, sir."
“ And why is his name not on the book at that time if
he came to your house and put up ?"
“ Because he did not put up ; he merely called in, as it
were, and did not take a meal or hire a room."
“ How did you know, then, that he was there? Did
you see him or talk to him ? "
“ Yes, sir."
“And what did you say ?"
“ He asked me for directions to a certain house, and I
gave them."
“ Whose house?"
“ The Widow Clemmens', sir."
Ah, light at last !
been found !
The long.sought.for witness had
Coroner and jury brightened visibly, while
- the assembled crowd gave vent to a deep murmur, that
must have sounded like a knell of doom—in one pair of
ears, at least.
“He asked you for directions to the house of Widow
Clemmens. At what time was this ? "
“ At about half.past eleven in the morning."
The very hour !
“ And did he leave then ?"
“ Yes, sir ; after taking a glass of brandy."
“ And did you not see him again ?"
“ Not till yesterday, sir."
." Ah, and at what time did you see him yesterday?"


I24 HAND AND RING.
“ At bedtime, sir. He came with other arrivals on the
five o'clock train ; but I was away all the afternoon and
did not see him till I went into the bar.room in the
evening." .
“ Well, and what passed between you then ?"
“ Not much, sir. I asked if he was going to stay with
us, and when he said ‘Yes,' I inquired if he had regis-
tered his name. He replied ‘No..' At which I pointed
to the book, and he wrote his name down and then went
up.stairs with me to his room."
“ And is that all ? Did you say nothing beyond what
you have mentioned ? ask him no questions or make no
allusions to the murder ? ”
. “Well, sir, I did make some attempt that way, for I
was curious to know what took him to the Widow Clem-
mens' house, but he snubbed me so quickly, I concluded
to hold my tongueand not trouble myself any further -
about the matter."
“And do you mean to say you have n't told any one
that an unknown man had been at your house on the
morning of the murder inquiring after the widow ? "
“Yes, sir. I am a poor man, and believe in keeping
out of all sort of messes. Policy demands that much of
me, gentlemen."
The look he received from the coroner may have con-
vinced him that policy can be carried too far.
“ And now," said Dr. Tredwell, “ what sort of a man is
this Clement Smith ? "
- _ .__. ..-.__.~_,..-.,-


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I25
“ He is a gentleman, sir, and not at all the sort of per-
son with whom you would be likely to connect any un-
pleasant suspicion." .
The coroner surveyed the hotel.keeper somewhat
sternly.
“ We are not talking about suspicions 1 " he cried ;
then, in a different tone, repeated : “ This gentleman, you
say, is still at your house?”
“Yes, sir, or was at breakfast.time. I have not seen
him since." .
“ We will have to call Mr. Smith as a witness," declared
the coroner, turning to the officer at his side. “ Go and
see if you cannot bring him as soon as you did Mr.
Symonds."
But here a voice spoke up full and loud from the other
room.
“ It is not necessary, sir. A witness you will consider
more desirable than he is in the building." And the
thick.set man showed himself for an instant to the coro-
ner, then walking back, deliberately laid his hand on the
elbow which for so long a time had been the centre of
Mr. Byrd's wondering conjectures.
In an instant the fine, gentlemanly figure of the stranger,
whom he had seen the night before in the bar.room, ap-
peared with a bound from beyond the jamb, and pausing
excitedly before the man, now fully discovered to all
around as a detective, asked him, in shaking tones of
suppressed terror or rage, what it was he meant.


126 HAND AND RING.
“ I will tell you," was the ready assurance, “if you will
step out here in view of the coroner and jury."
With a glance that for some reason disturbed Mr. Byrd
in his newly acquired complacency, the gentleman stalked
hurriedly forward and took his stand in the door.way
leading into the room occupied by the persons mentioned.
“Now," he cried, “what have you to say?"
But the detective, who had advanced behind him, still
refrained from replying, though he gave a quick look at
the coroner, which led that functionary to glance at the
hotel.keeper and instantly ask :
“ You know this gentleman?"
“ It is Mr. Clement Smith."
A flush so violent and profuse, that even Mr. Byrd
could see it from his stand outside the window, inundated
for an instant the face and neck of the gentleman, but
was followed by no words, though the detective at his
side waited for an instant before saying:
“I think you are mistaken ; I should call him now Mr.
Gouverneur Hildreth !” .
With a start and a face grown as suddenly white as it
had but an instant before been red, the gentleman turned
and surveyed the detective from head to foot, saying, in
a tone of mock politeness :
“And why, if you please? I have never been intro-
duced to you that I remember."
“ No,” rejoined the detective, taking from his pocket
the handkerchief which he had previously put there, and


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I27
presenting it to the other with a bow, “but I have read
the monogram upon your handkerchief and it happens to
be——"
“Enough ! " interrupted the other, in a stern if not
disdainful voice. “I see I have been the victim of
' And stepping into the other room, he walked
haughtily up to the coroner and exclaimed: “I am
Gouverneur Hildreth, and I come from Toledo. Now,
what is it you have to say to me?"
espionage.'


I28 HAND AND RING.
IX.
CLOSE CALCULATIONS.
Truth alone,
Truth tangible and palpable ; such truth
As may be weighed and measured ; truth deduced
By logical conclusion—close, severe-
From premises incontrovertible.—Mcu1.'rRm.
HE excitement induced by the foregoing announce-
T ment had, in a degree, subsided. The coroner,
who appeared to be as much startled as any one at the
result of the day's proceedings, had manifested his desire
of putting certain questions to the young man, and had
begun by such inquiries into his antecedents, and his
connection with Mrs. Clemmens, as elicited the most
complete corroboration of all Miss Firman's statements.
An investigation into his motives for coming East at
this time next followed, in the course of which he ac-
knowledged that he undertook the journey solely for the
purpose of seeing Mrs. Clemmens. And when asked
why he wished to see her at this time, admitted, with
some manifestation of shame, that he desired to see for
himself whether she was really in as strong and healthy a
condition as he had always been told ; his pecuniary em-
.barrassments being such that he could not prevent his
mind from dwelling upon possibilities which, under any
other circumstances, he would have been ashamed to
consider.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I29
“ And did you see Mrs. Clemmens ? " the coroner in-
quired. .
“Yes, sir; I did."
“ When ? ”
“On Tuesday, sir; about noon.”
The answer was given almost with bravado, and the si-
lence among the various auditors became intense.
“You admit, then, that you were in the widow's house
the morning she was murdered, and that you had an in-
terview with her a few minutes before the fatal blow was
struck ? "
“I do."
There was doggedness in the tone, and doggedness in
the look that accompanied it. The coroner moved a lit-
tle forward in his chair and uttered his next question with
deep gravity.
“ Did you approach the widow's house by the road and
enter into it by means of the front door overlooking
the lane?”
“ I did."
“ And did you meet no one in the lane, or see no one
at the windows of any of the houses as you came by ? ”
“ No, sir." '
“ How long did you stay in this house, and what was
the result of the interview which you had with Mrs. Clem-
mens ?"
“ I stayed, perhaps, ten minutes, and I learned nothing
from Mrs. Clemmens, save that she was well and hearty,


I30 HAND 0
-.0._.-__._--'~
AND RING.
and likely to live out her threescore years and ten for
all hint that her conversation or appearance gave me."
He spoke almost with a tone of resentment ; his eyes
glowed darkly, and a thrill of horror sped through the
room as if they felt that the murderer himself stood be-
fore them. ‘
“You will tell me what was said in this interview, if
you please, and whether the widow knew who you were ;
and, if so, whether any words of anger passed between
you ? ”
The face of the young man burned, and he looked at
the coroner and then at the jurymen, as if he would like
to challenge the whole crew, but the color that showed in
his face was the flush of shame, or, so thought Mr. Byrd,
and in his -reply, when he gave it, there was a bitterness
.of self.scorn that reminded the detective more of the mor-
tification of a gentleman caught in an act of meanness
than the secret alarm of a man who had been beguiled
into committing a dastardly crime.
“ Mrs. Clemmens was evidently a woman of some
spirit," said he, forcing out his words with sullen des-
peration. “ She may have used sharp language; I be-
lieve indeed she did ; but she did not know who I was,
for—for I pretended to be a seller of patent medicine,
warranted to cure all ills, and she told me she had no ills,
and—and—Do you want a man to disgrace himself in
your presence?" he suddenly flashed out, cringing under
the gaze of the many curious and unsympathetic eyes
fixed upon him. ‘


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I3I
But the coroner, with a sudden assumption of severity,
pardonable, perhaps, in a man with a case of such impor-
tance on his hands, recommended the witness to be calm
and not to allow any small feelings of personal mortifica-
tion to interfere with a testimony of so much evident
value. And without waiting for the witness to recover
himself, asked again :
“What did the widow say, and with what words did
you leave?"
“ The.widow said she abominated drugs, and never
took them.
she had any ailments.
I replied that she made a great mistake, if
Upon which she retorted that
she had no ailment, and politely showed me the door.
I do not remember that any thing else passed between
us."
His ton.e, which had been shrill and high, dropped at
the final sentence, and by the nervous workings of his
lips, Mr. Byrd perceived that he dreaded the next ques-
tion. The persons grouped around him evidently dread-
ed it too.
But it was less searching than they expected, and
proved that the coroner preferred to approach his point
by circuitous rather than direct means.
“ In what room was the conversation held, and by what
door did you come in and go out ?"
“I came in by the front door, and we stood in that
room "—pointing to the sitting.room from which he had
just issued.


I32 HAND AND RING.
“ Stood ! Did you not sit down ?"
“ No." 0
“Stood all the time, and in that room to which you
have just pointed?"
“ Yes."
The coroner drew a deep breath, and looked at the
witness long and searchingly. Mr. Hildreth's way of
uttering this word had been any thing but pleasant, and
consequently any thing but satisfactory. A low murmur
began to eddy through the rooms.
“ Gentlemen, silence ! ” commanded the coroner, vent-
ing in this injunction some of the uncomfortable emotion
with which he was evidently surcharged; for his next
words were spoken in a comparatively quiet voice, though -
the fixed severity of his eye could have given the witness
but little encouragement.
“ You say," he declared, “that in coming through the
lane you encountered no one. Was this equally true of
your retur n ? " ‘
“Yes, sir ; I believe so. I don't remember. I was not
looking up," was the slightly confused reply. -
.
“ You passed, however, through the lane, and entered
the main street by the usual path ? "
“ Yes."
“ And where did you go then ? ”
“ To the depot."
“Ah ! "
“I wished to leave the town. I had done with it."
- ..-...' ---._...-'-‘.n-_


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I33
“ And did you do so, Mr. Hildreth ? ".
“ I did."
“ Where did you go ? "
“ To Albany, where I had left my traps."
“You took the noon train, then? "
“ Yes, sir."
“ Which leaves precisely five minutes after twelve ? "
“ I suppose so."
“ Took it without stopping anywhere on the way ?”
“Yes, sir."
“ Did you buy a ticket at the otlice ?"
“ N o, sir."
“ Why ? "
“ I did not have time."
“ Ah, the train was at the station, then ? ”
Mr. Hildreth did not reply; he had evidently been
driven almost to the end of his patience, or possibly of
his courage, by this quick fire of small questions.
The coroner saw this and pressed his advantage.
“ Was the train at the station or not when you arrived
there, Mr. Hildreth ?”
“ I do not see why it can interest you to know," the
witness retorted, with a flash of somewhat natural anger ;
“ but since you insist, I will tell you that it was just going
out, and that I had to run to reach it, and only got a foot-
hold upon the platform of the rear car at the risk of my
life."
He looked as if he wished it had been at the cost of his


._.. .‘p ..'.
1 34 HAND AND RING.
life, and compressed his lips and moved restlessly from
side to side as if the battery of eyes levelled upon his face
were so many points of red.hot steel burning into his
brain.
But the coroner, intent upon his duty, released not one
jot of the steady hold he had taken upon his victim.
“Mr. Hildreth," said he, “ your position as the only
person who acknowledges himself to have been in this
house during the half.hour that preceded the assault,
makes every thing you can tell us in reference to your
visit of the highest importance. Was the widow alone,
do you think, or did you see any thing—pause now and
consider well—any t/zirzg that would lead you to suppose
there was any one beside her and yourself in the house?”
It was the suggestion of a just man, and Mr. Byrd
looked to see the witness grasp with. all the energy of
despair at the prospect of release it held out. But Mr..
Hildreth either felt his cause beyond the reach of any
such assistance, or his understanding was so dulled by
misery he could not see the advantage of acknowledging
the presence of a third party in the cottage. Giving a
dreary shake of the head, he slowly answered :
“ There may have been somebody else in the house, I
don't know; but if so, I did n't hear him or see him. I
thought we were alone."
The frankness with which he made the admission was
in his favor, but the quick and overpowering flush that
rose to his face the moment he had given utterance to it,


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I35
betrayed so unmistakable a consciousness of what the
admission implied that the effect was immediately re-
versed. Seeing that he had lost rather than gained in the
opinions of the merciless inquisitors about him, he
went back to his old bravado, and haughtily lifted his
head.
“ One question more," resumed the coroner. “ You
have said that Mrs. Clemmens was a spirited woman.
Now, what made you think so? Any expression of
annoyance on her part at the interruption in her work
which your errand had caused her, or merely the expres-
sion of her face and the general way she had of
speaking ,? "
“The latter, I think, though she did use a harsh word
or two when she showed me the door."
- “ And raised her voice ? ”
“ Yes, yes."
“ Mr. Hildreth," intimated the coroner, rising, “ will
you be kind enough to step with me into the adjoin-
ing room ? "
With a look of wonder not unmixed with alarm,
the young man prepared to comply.
“I should like the attention of the jury," Dr. Tred-
well signified as he passed through the door.
There was no need to give them this hint. Not a man
of them but was already on his feet in eager curiosity
as to what their presiding officer was about to do.
“ I wish you to tell me now," the coroner demanded of
.--,-.1»


136 HAND AND RING.
--<---w . -_.¢§.-
Mr. Hildreth, as they paused in the centre of the sitting-
room, “where it was you stood during your interview
with Mrs. Clemmens, and, if possible, take the very
position now which you held at that time."
“ There are too many persons here," the witness
objected, visibly rebelling at a request of which he could
not guess the full significance.
“ The people present will step back," declared the
coroner ; “you will have no trouble in taking your stand
on the spot you occupied the other day."
“ Here, then ! " exclaimed the young man, taking
a position near the centre of the room.
“ And the widow ? ”
“ Stood there."
“Facing you ? "
“Yes."
“ I see," intimated the coroner, pointing toward the
windows. “ Her back was to the yard while you stood
with your face toward it." Then with a quick motion,
summoning the witness back into the other room, asked,
amid the breathless attention of the crowd, whom this bit
- of by.play had wrought up to expectation: “ Did you
observe any one go around to the back door while you
stood there, and go away again without attempting to
knock ? "
Mr. Hildreth knitted his brow and seemed to think.
“ Answer," persisted the coroner ; “ it is not a question
that requires thought."


THE GENTLEMAN mom TOLEDO. 137'
“Well, then, I did not," cried the witness, looking the
-other directly in the eye, with the first gleam of real
manly feeling which he had yet displayed.
“ You did not see a tramp come into the yard, walk
around to the kitchen door, wait a moment as if hesitat-
ing whether he would rap, and then turn and come back
again without doing so ? "
“ No, sir."
The coroner drew a piece of paper before him and be-
gan figuring on it. Earnestly, almost wildly, the young
man watched him, drawing a deep breath and turning
quite pale as the other paused and looked 11%
“ Yet," affirmed the coroner, as if no delay had
occurred since he received his last answer, “such a per-
son did approach the house while you were in it, and if
you had stood where you say, you must have seen him."
It was a vital thrust, a relentless presentation of fact,
and as such shook the witness out of his lately acquired
composure. Glancing hastily about, he sought the assist-
ance of some one both capable and willing to advise
him in this crisis, but seeing no one, he made a vigorous
effort and called together his own faculties.
“ Sir," he protested, a tremor of undisguised anxiety
finding way into his voice, “ I do not see how you make
that all out. What proof have you that this tramp of
which you speak came to the house while I was in it?
Could he not have come before ? Or, what was better,
could he not have come after?”


I38 HAND AND RING.
—0—.'-I_.'f- -...—.
' The ringing tone with which the last question was put
startled everybody. No such sounds had issued from his
lips before. Had he caught a glimpse of hope, or was
he driven to an extremity in his defence that forced him
to assert himself? The eyes of Miss Firman and of
a few other women began to soften, and even the face of
Mr. Byrd betrayed that a change was on the verge of tak~
ing place in his feelings.
But the coroner's look and tone dashed cold water on
this young and tender growth of sympathy. Passing over
to the witness the paper on which he had been scribbling,
he explainegwith dry significance :
“It is only a matter of subtraction and addition, Mr.
Hildreth. You have said that upon quitting this house
you went directly to the depot, where you arrived barely
in time to jump on the train as it was leaving the station.
Now, to walk from this place to the depot at any pace
yon would be likely to use, would occupy-—well, let us
say seven minutes. At two minutes before twelve, then,
you were still in this house. Well !" he ejaculated, in-
terrupting himself as the other opened his lips, “ have you
any thing to say? "
“ No," was the dejected and hesitating reply.
The coroner at once resumed :
“But at five minutes before twelve, Mr. Hildreth, the
tramp walked into the widow's yard. Now, allowing only
two minutes for your interview with that lady, the conclu-
sion remains that you were in the house when he came


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I39
up to it. Yet you declare that, although you stood in full
view of the yard, you did not see him."
“You figure closer than an astronomer calculating an
eclipse," burst from the young man's lips in afiash of that
resolution which had for the last few minutes animated
him. “ How do you know your witnesses have been so
exact to a second when they say this and that of the go-
ings and comings you are pleased to put into an arithmeti-
cal problem. A minute or two one way or the other
would make a sad discrepancy in your calculations, Mr.
Coroner."
“ I know it," assented Dr. Tredwell, quietly ignoring
the other's heat ; “but if the jury will remember, there were
four witnesses, at least, who testified to the striking of the
town clock just as the tramp finally issued from the lane,
and one witness, of well.known accuracy in matters of
detail, who declared on oath that she had just dropped
her eyes from that same clock when she observed the
'tramp go into the widow's gate, and that it was five min-
utes to twelve exactly. But, lest I do seem too nice
in my calculations," the coroner inexorably pursued, “I
will take the trouble of putting it another way. At what
time did you leave the hotel, Mr. Hildreth ? ”
“ I don't know," was the testy response.
“Well, I can tell you," the coroner assured him. “ It
was about twenty minutes to twelve, or possibly earlier,
but no later. My reason for saying this," he went on,
drawing once more before him the fatal sheet of paper,


140 HAND AND RING.
“ is that Mrs. Dayt0n's children next door were out play-
ing in front of this house for some few minutes previous
to the time the tramp came into the lane. As you did
not see them you must have arrived here before they be-
gan their game, and that, at the least calculation, would
make the time as early as a quarter to twelve."
“ Well," the fierce looks of the other seemed to say,
“ andwhat if it was ?"
“ Mr. Hildreth," continued the coroner, “if you were
in this house at a quarter to twelve and did not leave it
till two minutes before, and the interview was as you say
a mere interchange of a dozen words or so, that could not
possibly have occupied more than three minutes; where
wereyou during all the rest of the time that must have
elapsed after you finished your interview and the moment
you left the house ?"
It was aknock.down question. This aristocratic.looking
young gentleman who had hitherto held himself erect be-
fore them, notwithstandingt he humiliating nature of the
inquiries which had been propounded to him, cringed
visibly and bowed his head as if a stroke of vital force
had descended upon it. Bringing his fist down on the
table near which he stood, he seemed to utter a muttered
curse, while the veins swelled on his forehead so power-
fully that more than one person present dropped their
eyes from a spectacle which bore so distinctly the stamp
of guilt.
“ You have not answered," intimated the coroner, after
a moment of silent waiting.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I41
“ No ! ” was the loud reply, uttered with a force that
startled all present, and made the more timid gaze with
some apprehension at his suddenly antagonistic attitude.
“ It is not pleasant for a gentleman "—he emphasized the
word bitterly—“ for a gentleman to acknowledge himself
caught at a time like this in a decided equivocation. But
you have cornered me fairly and squarely, and I am bound
to tell the truth. Gentlemen, I did not leave the widow's
house as immediately as I said. I stayed for fully five
minutes or so alone in the small hall that leads to the
front door. In all probability I was there when the tramp
passed by on his way to the kitchen.door, and there when
he came back again." And Mr. Hildreth fixed his eyes
on the coroner as if he dared him to push him further.
But Dr. Tredwell had been in his present seat before.
Merely confronting the other with that cold oflicial gaze
which seems to act like a wall of ice between a witness
and the coroner, he said the two words : “ What doing ? "
The effect was satisfactory. Palin g suddenly, Mr.
Hildreth dropped his eyes and replied humbly, though
with equal laconism, “ I was thinking." But scarcely had
the words left his lips, than a fresh flame of feeling started
up within him, and looking from juryman to juryman he
passionately exclaimed : “You consider that acknowledg-
ment suspicious. You wonder why a man should give a
few minutes to thought after the conclusion of an inter-
view that terminated all hope. I wonder at it now
myself. I wonder I did not go straight out of the house


.. -a_-<,.-\
I42 HAND AND RING.
and rush headlong into any danger that promised an
immediate extinction of my life."
No language could have more forcibly betrayed the
real desperation of his mind at the critical moment when
the widow's life hung in the balance. He saw this, per-
haps, when it was too late, for the sweat started on his
brow, and he drew himself up like a man nerving himself
to meet a blow he no longer hoped to avert. One
further remark, however, left his lips.
“Whatever I did or of whatever I was thinking, one
thing I here declare to be true, and that is, that I did not
see the widow again after she left my side and went back
to her kitchen in the rear of the house. The hand that
struck her may have been lifted while I stood in the hall,
but if so, I did not know it, nor can I tell you now who
it was that killed her."
It was the first attempt at direct disavowal which he
had made, and it had its effect. The coroner softened
a trifle of his austerity, and the jurymen glanced at each
other relieved. But the weight of suspicion against -this
young man was too heavy, and his manner had been too
unfortunate, for this effect to last long. Gladly as many
would have been to credit this denial, if only for the name
he bore and a certain fine aspect of gentlemanhood that
surrounded him in spite of his present humiliation, it was
no longer possible to do so without question, and he
seemed to feel this and do his best to accept the situation
with patience.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I43
An inquiry which was put to him at this time by a
juryman showed the existent state of feeling against
him.
“ May I ask," that individual dryly interrogated, “ why
you came back to Sibley, after having left it?”
The response came clear and full. Evidently the
gravity of his position had at last awakened the latent
resources of Mr. Hildreth's mind.
“ I heard of the death of this woman, and my surprise
caused me to return."
“ How did you hear of it ?”
“ Through the newspapers."
“ And you were surprised i"
“I was astounded ; I felt as if I had received a blow
myself, and could not rest till I had come back where I
could learn the full particulars.”
“So, then, it was curiosity that brought you to the
inquest to.day ? " '
“ It was."
The juryman looked at him astonished ; so did all the
rest.
and ringing.
“ And what was it," broke in the coroner, “that led you
His manner was so changed, his answers so prompt
to register yourself at the hotel under a false name?"
“ I scarcely know.," was the answer, given with less fire
“ Perhaps I thought
that, under the circumstances, it would be better for me
and some show of embarrassment.
not to use my own."


144 HAND AND RING.
. . .M---r _
“In other words, you were afraid?" exclaimed the
coroner, with the full impressiveness of his somewhat
weighty voice and manner.
It was a word to make the weakest of men start. Mr.
Hildreth, who was conspicuous in his own neighborhood
for personal if not for moral courage, flushed till it
looked as if the veins would burst on his forehead, but
he made no other reply than a proud and angry look and
a short :
“ I was not aware of fear ; though, to be sure, I had no
premonition of the treatment I should be called upon to
suffer here to.day."
The flash told, the cororier sat as if doubtful, and
looked from man to man of the jury as if he would ques-
tion their feelings on this vital subject. Meantime the
full shame of his position settled heavier and heavier
upon Mr. Hildreth ; his head fell slowly forward, and he
seemed to be asking himself how he was to meet the pos-
sibly impending ignominy of a direct accusation. Sudden-
ly he drew himself erect, and a gleam shot from his eyes
that, for the first time, revealed him as a man of latent
pluck and courage.
“ Gentlemen," he began, looking first at the coroner
and then at the jury, “you have not said you consider
me guilty of this crime, but you evidently harbor the
suspicion. I do not wonder; my own words have given
me away, and any man would find it diflicult to be-
lieve in my innocence after what has been testified to in


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 145
this place. Do not hesitate, then. The shock of finding
myself suspected of a horrible murder is passed. I am
willing to be arrested. Indeed, after what has here taken
place, I not only am willing but even anxious. I want to
be tried, if only to prove to the world my complete and
entire innocence."
The effect of this speech, uttered at a moment so criti-
cal, may be easily imagined. All the impressible people
present at once signified their belief in his honesty, and
gave him looks of sympathy, if not approval; while the
cooler and possibly the more judicious of his auditors
calmly weighed these assertions against the evidence that
had been advanced, and finding the result unsatisfactory,
shook their heads as if unconvinced, and awaited further
developments. '
They did not come. The inquiry had reached its
climax, and little, if any thing, more was left to be said.
Mr. Hildreth was examined more fully, and some few of
the witnesses who had been heard in the early part of the
day were recalled, but no new facts came to light, and no
fresh inquiries were started.
Mr. Byrd, who from the attitude of the coroner could
not fail to see Mr. Hildreth was looked upon with a sus-
picion that would ultimately end in arrest, decided that
his interest in the inquest was at an end, and being great-
ly fatigued, gave up his position at the window and
quietly stole away.


I46 HAND AND RING.
X.
THE FINAL rasr.
Men are born with two eyes, but with one tongue, in order that they
should see twice as much as they say.-Cot.'roN.
HE fact was, he wanted to think. Detective though
T he was and accustomed to the bravado with
which every sort of criminal will tur n to meet their fate
when fully driven to bay, there had been something in the
final manner of this desperate but evidently cultured
gentleman, which had impressed him against his own
will, and made him question whether the suspected man
was not rather the victim of a series of extraordinary cir-
cumstances, than the selfish and brutal criminal which the
evidence given seemed to suggest.
Not that Mr. Byrd ever allowed his generous heart to
blind him to the plain language of facts. His secretand
not to be smothered doubts in another direction were
proof enough of this ; and had it not been for those very
doubts, the probabilities are that he would have agreed
with the cooler.headed portion of the crowd, which listened
unmoved to that last indignant burst of desperate man-
hood.
But with those doubts still holding possession of his
mind, he could not feel so sure of Mr. Hildreth's guilt ;


THE GENTLEMAN mom TOLEDO. 147
and the struggle that was likely to ensue between his
personal feelings on the one side and his sense of duty on
the other did not promise to be so light as to make it
possible for him to remain within eye and earshot of an
unsympathetic crowd.
“ If only the superintendent had not left it to my judg-
ment to interfere," thought he, pacing the streets with
ever‘increasing uneasiness, “the responsibility would have
been shifted from my shoulders, and I would have left
the young man to his fate in peace. But now I would
be criminally at fault if I were to let him drift hopelessly
to his doom, when by a lift of my finger I might possibly
turn the attention of justice toward the real culprit."
Yet the making up of his mind to interfere was a tor-
ture to Horace Byrd. If he was not conscious of any
love for Imogene Dare, he was sufficiently under the
dominion of her extraordinary fascinations to feel that
any movement on his part toward the unravelling of
the mystery that enveloped her, would be like subjecting
his own self to the rack of public inquiry and suspicion.
Nor, though he walked the streets for hours, each
moment growing more and more settled in his conviction
of Mr. Hildreth's innocence, could he bring himself to
the point of embracing the duty presented to him, till he
had subjected Miss Dare to a new test, and won for him-
self absolute certainty as to the fact of her possessing a
clue to the crime, which had not been discovered in the
coroner's inquiry.


‘ -w.-_
I48 HAND AND RING.
“ The possibility of innocence on her part is even
greater than on that of Mr. Hildreth," he considered,
“and nothing, not even the peril of those dearest to me,
could justify me in shifting the weight of suspicion from
a guiltless man to an equally guiltless woman."
It was, therefore, for the purpose of solving this doubt,
that he finally sought Mr. Ferris, and after learning that
Mr. Hildreth was under surveillance, and would in all
probability be subjected to arrest on the morrow, asked
for some errand that would take him to Mr. Orcutt's
house.
“ I have a great admiration for that gentleman and
would like to make his acquaintance," he remarked care-
lessly, hiding his true purpose under his usual nonchalant
tones. “ But I do not want to seem to be pushing myself
forward; so if you could give me some papers to carry to
him, or some message requiring an introduction to his
presence, I should feel very much obliged."
Mr. Ferris, who had no suspicions of his own to assist
him in understanding the motives that led to this request,
easily provided the detective with the errand he sought.
Mr. Byrd at once started for the lawyer's house.
It was fully two miles away, but once arrived there, he
was thankful that the walk had been so long, as the
fatigue, following upon the activity of the afternoon, had
succeeded in quieting his pulses and calming down the
fierce excitement which had held him under its control .
ever since he had taken the determination to satisfy his
doubts by an interview with Miss Dare.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I49
Ringing the bell of the rambling old mansion that
spread out its wide extensions through the vines and
bushes of an old.fashioned and most luxuriant garden, he
waited the issue with beating heart. A respectable.look-
ing negro servant came to the door.
“Is Mr. Orcutt in?" he asked; “ or, if not, Miss
Dare? I have a message from Mr. Ferris and would be
glad to see one of them."
This, in order to ascertain at a word if the lady was at
home.
“ Miss Dare is not in," was the civil response, “and
Mr. Orcutt is very busily engaged; but if you will step
into the parlor I will tell him you are here."
“No," returned the disappointed detective, handing
her the note he held in his hand. “If your master is
busy I will not disturb him." And, turning away, he
went slowly down the steps.
“If I only knew where she was gone!” hemuttered,
bitterly.
But he did not consider himself in a position to ask.
Inwardly chafing over his ill.luck, Mr. Byrd proceeded
with reluctant pace to regain the street, when, hearing the
gate suddenly click, he looked up, and saw advancing
toward him a young gentleman of a peculiarly spruce
and elegant appearance.
“Ha! another visitor for Miss Dare," was the detec-
tive's natural inference. And with a sudden movement
he withdrew from the path, and paused as if to light his


ISO HAND AND RING.
cigar in the shadow of the thick bushes that grew against
the house.
In an instant the young stranger was on the stoop.
Another, and he had rung the bell, which was answered
almost as soon as his hand dropped from the knob.
“ Is Miss Dare in ?" was the inquiry, uttered in loud
and cheery tones.
“ N o, sir. She is spending a few days with Miss
Tremaine," was the clear and satisfactory reply. “ Shall
I tell her you have been here ?"
“ No. I will call myself at Miss Tremaine's," rejoined
the gentleman. And, with a gay swing of his cane and a
cheerful look overhead where the stars were already be-
coming visible, he sauntered easily off, followed by the
envious thoughts of Mr. Byrd.
“ Miss Tremaine," repeated the latter, musingly.
“Who knows Miss Tremaine ?"
While he was asking himself this question, the voice of
the young man rose melodiously in a scrap of old song,
and instantly Mr. Byrd recognized in the seeming stranger
the well.known tenor singer of the church he had himself
attended the Sunday before——a gentleman, too, to whom
he had been introduced by Mr. Ferris, and with whom he
had exchanged something more than the passing civilities
of the moment.
To increase his -pace, overtake the young man, recall
himself to his attention, and join him in his quick walk
down the street, was the work of a moment. The nat-


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. ISI
ural sequence followed. Mr. Byrd made himself so agree-
able that by the time they arrived at Miss Tremaine's the
other felt loath to part with him, and it resulted in his be-
ing urged to join this chance acquaintance in his call.
Nothing could have pleased Mr. Byrd better. So,
waiving for once his instinctive objection to any sort of
personal intrusion, he signified his acquiescence to the
proposa1,'and at once accompanied his new friend into the
house of the unknown Miss Tremaine. He found it
lit up as for guests. All the rooms on the ground
floor were open, and in one of them he could discern a
dashing and coquettish young miss holding court over a
cluster of eager swains.
“ Ah, I forgot," exclaimed Mr. Byrd's companion,
whose name, by.the.way, was Duryea. “ It is Miss
Tremaine's reception night. She is the daughter of one
of the professors of the High School," he went on, whis-
pering his somewhat late explanations into the ear of Mr.
Byrd. “ Every Thursday evening she throws her house
open for callers, and the youth of the academy are only
too eager to avail themselves of the opportunity of com-
ing here. Well, it is all the better for us. Miss Dare
despises boys, and in all likelihood we shall have her en-
tirely to ourselves."
A quick pang contracted the breast of Mr. Byrd.
If this easy, almost rakish, fellow at his side but knew the
hideous errand which brought him to this house, what
a scene would have ensued !


Q-<_.,__-~<--‘-.
I52 HAND AND RING.
But he had no time for reflection, or even for that
irresistible shrinking from his own designs which he now
began to experience. Before he realized that he was'
fully committed to this venture, he found himself in the
parlor bowing before the mzz"vc and laughing.eyed Miss
Tremaine, who rose to receive him with all the airy
graciousness of a finished coquette.
Miss Dare was not visible, and Mr. Byrd'was just
wondering if he would be called upon to enter into a sus-
tained conversation with his pretty hostess, when a deep,
rich voice was heard in the adjoining room, and, looking
up, he saw the stately figure he solonged and yet dreaded
to encounter, advancing toward them through the open
door. She was very pale, and, to Mr. Byrd's eyes,
looked thoroughly worn out, if not ill. Yet, she bore
herself with a steadiness that was evidently the result of
her will; and manifested neither reluctance nor impa-
tience when the eager Mr. Duryea pressed forward with
his compliments, though from the fixedness of her gaze
and the immobility of her lip, Mr. 'Byrd too truly
.discovered that her thoughts were far away from the
scene of mirth and pleasure in which she found herself.
“You see I have presumed to follow you, Miss Dare,"
was the greeting with which Mr. Duryea hailed her
approach. And he immediately became so engrossed
with his gallantries he forgot to introduce his com-
panion.
Mr. Byrd was rather relieved at this. He was not yet
.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I53
ready to submit her to the test he considered necessary
to a proper understanding of the situation ; and he had
not the heart to approach her with any mere civility on
his tongue, while matters of such vital importance to her
happiness, if not to her honor, trembled in the balance.
He preferred to talk to Miss Tremaine, and this he con-
tinued to do till the young fellows at his side, one by
one, edged away, leaving no one in that portion of the room
but himself and Miss Tremaine, Mr. Duryea and Miss
Dare.
The latter two stood together some few feet behind
him, and were discussing in a somewhat languid way, the
merits of a musical: which they had lately attended.
They were approaching, however, and he felt that if he
did not speak at once he might not have another oppor-
tunity for doing so during the whole evening. Turning,
therefore, to Miss Tremaine, with more seriousness than
her gay and totally inconsequent conversation had
hitherto allowed, he asked, in what he meant to be a
simply colloquial and courteous manner, if she had heard
the news.
“News," she repeated, “ no ; is there any news?"
“Yes,"’<Y call it news. But, perhaps, you are not in-
terested in the murder that has lately taken place in this
town ?"
“ Oh, yes, I am," she exclaimed, all eagerness at once,
while he felt rather than perceived that the couple at his
back stood suddenly still, as if his words had worked their


154 HAND AND RING.
----._.-.--‘v
spell over one heart there at least. “ Papa knew Mrs.
Clemmens very well," the little lady proceeded with a
bewitchingly earnest look. “ Have they found the mur-
derer, do you think? Any thing less than that would be
no news to me."
“ There is every reason to suppose——" he began, and
stopped, something in’ the deadly silence behind him mak-
ing it impossible for him to proceed. Happily he was not
obliged to. An interruption occurred in the shape of a
new.comer, and he was left with the fatal word on his
lips to await the approach of that severely measured step
behind him, which by this time he knew was bringing the
inscrutable Miss Dare to his side.
“ Miss Dare, allow me to present to you Mr. Byrd. Mr.
Byrd, Miss Dare."
The young detective bowed. With rigid attention to
the forms of etiquette, he uttered the first few acknowl-
edgments necessary to the occasion, and then glanced
up.
She was looking him full in the face.
“ We have met before," he was about to observe, but
not detecting the least sign of recognition in her gaze, re-
strained the words and hastily dropped his eyes.
“ Mr. Duryea informs me you are a stranger in the
town," she remarked, moving slowly to one side in a way
to rid herself of that gentleman's too immediate presence.
“ Have you a liking for the place, or do you meditate any
' lengthy stay?"


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I55
“ No. That is," he rejoined, somewhat shaken in his
theories by the self.possession of her tone and the ease
and quietness with which she evidently prepared to enter
into a sustained conversation, “ I may go away to.morrow,
and I may linger on for an indefinite length of time. It
all depends upon certain matters that will be determined for
me to.night. Sibley is a very pretty place," he observed,
startled at his own temerity in venturing the last re-
mark.
“Yes."
The word came as if forced, and she looked at Mr.
Duryea.
“Do you wish any thing, Miss Dare ? ” that gentleman
. suddenly asked. “You do not look well."
“ I am not well," she acknowledged. “ No, thank you,"
she cried, as he pushed a chair toward her. “It is too
warm here. If you do not object, we will go into the
other room." And with a courteous glance that included
both gentlemen in its invitation, she led the way into the
adjoining apartment. Could it have been with the pur-
pose of ridding herself of the assiduities of Mr. Duryea?
The room contained half adozen or more musical people,
and no sooner did they perceive their favorite tenor ap-
proach than they seized upon him and, without listening
to his excuses, carried him off to the piano, leaving Miss
Dare alone with Mr. Byrd.
She seemed instantly to forget her indisposition. Draw-
ing herself up till every queenly attribute she possessed


-_ __..--___.-
I56 HAND AND RING.
flashed brilliantly before his eyes, she asked, with sudden
determination, if she had been right in understanding him
to say that there was news in regard to the murder of Mrs.
Clemmens ?
Subduing, by a strong inward effort, every token of the
emotion which her own introduction of this topic natu-
rally evoked, he replied in his easiest tones:
“ Yes; there was an inquest held to.day, and the au-
thorities evidently think they have discovered the person
who killed her." And obliging himself to meet half.way
the fate that awaited him, he bestowed upon the lady
before him a casual glance that hid beneath its easy po-
liteness the greatest anxiety of his life.
The test worked well. From the pallor of sickness,
grief, or apprehension, her complexion whitened to the
deadlier hue of mortal terror.
“ Impossible ! " her lips seemed to breathe ; and Mr.
Byrd could almost fancy he saw the hair rise on her
forehead. '
Cursing in his heart the bitter necessity that had forced
him into this duty, he was about to address her in a way
calculated to break the spell occasioned by his last words,
when the rich and tuneful voice of the melodious
singer rose suddenly on the air, and they heard the
words:
“ Come rest in this bosom, my own stricken deer,
Though the herd have fled from thee, thy home is still here ;
Here still is the smile that no cloud can o'ercast, -
And a heart and a hand all thy own to the last."


Tl.IE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I57
Instantly Mr. Byrd perceived that he should not be
obliged to speak. Though the music, or possibly the
words, struck her like a blow, it likewise served to recall
her to herself. Dropping her gaze, which had remained
fixed upon his own, she turned her face aside, saying with
forced composure :
“This near contact with crime is dreadful." Then
slowly, and with a quietness that showed how great
was her power of self.control when she was not under
the influence of surprise, she inquired: “And who do
they think this person is? What name do they presume
to associate with the murderer of this woman ?."
With something of the feeling of a surgeon who nerves
himself to bury the steel in his patient's quivering flesh,
he gave his response unhesitatingly.
“A gentleman's, I believe. A young man connected
with her, in some strange way, by financial'interests.
A Mr. Hildreth, of Toledo—~Gouverneur Hildreth, I
think they call him."
It was not the name she expected. He saw this by
the relaxation that took place in all her features, by the
look of almost painful relief that flashed for a moment
into the eyes she turned like lightning upon him.
“ Gouverneur Hildreth ! ” she repeated. And he knew
from the tone that it was not only a different name from
what she anticipated, but that it was also a strange one to
her. “I never heard of such a person," she went on
after a minute, during which the relentless mellow voice


I 58 HAND AND RING.
of the unconscious singer filled the room with the pas-
sionate appeal :
“ Oh, what was love made for, if 't is not the same,
Through joy and through sorrow, through glo1y and shame
“That is not strange," explained Mr. Byrd, drawing
nearer, as if to escape that pursuing sweetness of incon-
gruous song. “He is not known in this town. He only
came here the morning the unfortunate woman was.mur-
dered. Whether he really killed her or not," he pro-
ceeded, with forced quietness, “ no one can tell, of course.
But the facts are very much against him, and the poor
fellow is under arrest."
“What ? "
. The word was involuntary. So was the tone of horri-
. fied surprise in which it was uttered. But the music,
now swelling to a crescendo, drowned both word and
tone, or so she seemed to fondly imagine; for, making
another effort at self.control, she confined herself to a
quiet repetition of his words, “ ‘Under arrest'?" and
then waited with only a suitable display of emotion -for
whatever further enlightenment he chose to give her.
He mercifully spoke to the point.
“Yes, under arrest. You see he was in the house
at or near the time the deadly blow was struck. He was
in the front hall, he says, and nowhere near the woman
or her unknown assailant, but there is no evidence
against any one else, and the facts so far proved, show he
had an interest in her death, and so he has to pay the
. _ — "-%.-.....-.-.--<-1-_<.


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I59
penalty of circumstances. And he may be guilty, who
knows, the young detective pursued, seeing she was
struck with horror and dismay, “dreadful as it is to
imagine that a gentleman of culture and breeding could
be brought to commit such a deed."
But she seemed to have ears for but one phrase of
all this.
“ He was in the front hall," she repeated. “ How did
he get there? What called him there?"
“ He had been visiting the widow, and was on his way
out. He paused to collect his thoughts, he said. It
seems unaccountable, Miss Dare ; but the whole thing is
strange and very mysterious."
She was deaf to his explanations.
“Do you suppose he heard the widow scream?" she
Y!
asked, tremblingly, “ or
A sinking of the ringing tones whose powerful vibra-
tion had made this conversation possible, caused her to
pause. When the notes grew loud enough again for her
to proceed, she seemed to have forgotten the question she
was about to propound, and simply inquired:
“ Had he any thing to say about what he overheard—
or saw ? "
“ No. If he spoke the truth and stood in the hall as
he said, the sounds, if sounds there were, stopped short
of the sitting.room door, for he has nothing to say about
them."
A change passed over Miss Dare. She dropped her


I60 HAND AND RING.
eyes, and an instant's pause followed this last acknowl-
edgment.
“ Will you tell me," she inquired, at last, speaking very
slowly, in an attempt to infuse into her voice nomore
than a natural tone of interest, “how it was he came to
say he stood in that place during the assault ? ”
“He did not say he stood in that place during the
assault," was again the forced rejoinder of Mr. Byrd.
" It was by means of a nice calculation of time and events,
that it was found he must have been in the house at or
near the fatal moment." .
Another pause ; another bar of that lovely music.
“And he is a gentleman, you say?" was her hurried
remark at last.
“Yes, and a very handsome one."
“ And they have put him in prison?"
“Yes, or will on the morrow."
She turned and leaned against a window.frame near by,
looking with eyes that saw nothing into the still vast night.
“ I suppose he has friends," she faintly suggested.
“ Two sisters, if no one nearer and dearer."
" Thou hast called me thy angel in moments of bliss,
And thy angel I 'll be, 'mid the horrors of this-
Through the furnace, unshrinking, thy steps to pursue,
And shield thee, and save thee—or perish there too,"
rang the mellow song.
“ I am not well," she suddenly cried, leaving the win-
dow and turning quickly toward Mr. Byrd. “I am much


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I61
obliged to you," said she, lowering her voice to a whisper,
for the last note of the song was dying away in a quiver-
ing p:'am°s.rz'ma. “I have been deeply interested in this
tragedy, and am thankful for any information in regard
to it. I must now bid you good.evening."
And with a stately bow into which she infused the
mingled courtesy and haughtiness of her nature, she
walked steadily away through the crowd that vainly
sought to stay her, and ‘disappeared, almost without a
pause, behind the door that .opened into the hall.
Mr. Byrd remained for a full half.hour after that, but
he never could tell what he did, or with whom he con-
versed, or how or when he issued from the house and
made his way back to his room in the hotel. He only
knew that at midnight he was still walking the floor, and
had not yet made up his mind to take the step which his
' own sense of duty now inexorably demanded.
~Qz?-T- - .


162 HAND AND RING.
XI.
DECISION.
Who dares
To say that he alone has found the truth.
—LoNGnu.!.ow.
HE next morning Mr. Ferris was startled by the
appearance in his oflice of Mr. Byrd, looking
wretchedly anxious and ill.
“I have come," said the detective, “to ask you what
you think of Mr. Hildreth's prospects. Have you made
up your mind to have him arrested for this crime ?"
“Yes," was the reply. “ The evidence against him is
purely circumstantial, but it is very strong; and if no
fresh developments occur, I think there can be no doubt
about my duty. Each and every fact that comes to light
only strengthens the case against him. When he came to
be examined last night, a ring was found on his person,
which he acknowledged to having worn on the day of the
murder."
“He took it of f during the inquest," murmured Mr.
Byrd ; “I saw him."
“It is said by Hickory—the somewhat questionable
cognomen of your fellow.detective from New York—that
the young man manifested the most intense uneasiness
during the whole inquiry. That in fact his attention


'1'HE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I63
was first drawn to hiIn by the many tokens which he
gave of suppressed agitation and alarm. Indeed, Mr.
Hickory at one time thought he should be obliged to
speak to this stranger in order to prevent a scene. Once
Mr. Hildreth got up as if to go, and, indeed, if he had
been less hemmed in by the crowd, there is every reason
to believe he would have attempted an escape."
“ Is this Hickory a man of good judgment ? ” inquired
Mr. Byrd, anxiously.
“Why, yes, I should say so. He seems to understand
his business. The way he procured us the testimony of
Mr. Hildreth was certainly satisfactory."
“I wish that, without his knowing it, I could hear him
give his opinion of this matter," intimated the other.
“ Well, you can," rejoined Mr. Ferris, after a quick
and comprehensive survey of Mr. Byrd's countenance.
“ I am expecting him here any moment, and if you see fit
to sit down behind that screen, you can, without the least
difiiculty to yourself or him, hear all he has to impart."
“ I will, then," the detective declared, a gloomy frown
suddenly corrugating his brow ; and he stepped across to
the screen which had been indicated to him, and quietly
withdrew from view.
He had scarcely done this, when a short, quick step
was heard at the door, and a wide.awake voice called out,
cheerily :
“Are you alone, sir ?"
“Ah !" ejaculated Mr. Ferris, “come in, come in. I


164 HAND AND RING.
. _._-~_.-,.»-J
I have been awaiting you for some minutes," he declared,
ignoring the look which the man threw hastily around the
room. “ Any news this morning ?”
“ No," returned the other, in a tone of complete self-
satisfaction. “We 've caged the bird and must n't ex-
pect much more in the way of news. I ‘m on my way to
Albany now, to pick up such facts about him as may be
lying around there loose, and shall be ready to start for
Toledo any day next week that you may think proper."
“You are, then, convinced that Mr. Hildreth is unde-
niably the guilty party in this case ?" exclaimed the
District Attorney, taking a whiff at his cigar.
“ Convinced ? That is a strong word, sir. A detective
is never convinced," protested the man. “ He leaves
that for the judge and jury. But if you ask me if there is
any doubt about the direction in which all the circum-
stantial evidence in this case points, I must retort by
asking you for a clue, or the tag.end of a clue, guiding
me elsewhere. I know," he went on, with the volubility
of a man whose work is done, and who feels he has the
right to a momentary indulgence in conversation, “that
it is not an agreeable thing to subject a gentleman like
Mr. Hildreth to the shame of a public arrest. But facts
are not partial, sir; and the gentleman has no more rights
in law than the coarsest fellow that we take up for butcher-
ing his mother. But you know all this without my telling
you, and I only mention it to excuse any obstinacy I may
have manifested on the subject. He is mightily cut up


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. I65
about it," he again proceeded, as he found Mr. Ferris
forebore to reply. “I am told he did n't sleep a wink
all night, but spent his time alternately in pacing the floor
like a caged lion, and in awild sort of stupor that had
something of the hint of madness in it. ' If my grand-
father had only known!' was the burden of his song;
and when any one approached him he either told them to
keep their eyes of f him, or else buried his face in his
hands with an entreaty for them not to disturb the last
hours of a dying man. He evidently has no hope of
escaping the indignity of arrest, and as soon as it was
light enough for him to see, he asked for paper and pen-
cil. They were brought him, and a man stood over
him while he wrote. It proved to be a letter to his
sisters enjoining them to believe in his innocence, and
wound up with what was very much like an attempt at a
will. Altogether, it looks as if he meditated suicide, and
we have been careful to take from him every possible
means for his effecting his release in this way, as well as
set a strict though secret watch upon him."
A slight noise took place behind the screen, which at
any other time Mr. Hickory would have been the first to
notice and inquire into. As it was, it had only the effect
of unconsciously severing his train of thought and start-
ing him alertly to his feet.
“ Well," said he, facing the District Attorney with
cheerful vivacity, “ any orders ? "
“ No," responded Mr. Ferris. “A run down to Albany '


..-..--
166 HAND AND RING.
seems to be the best thing for you at present. On your
return we will consult again." '
“Very well, sir. I shall not be absent more than two
days, and, in the meantime, you will let me know if any
thing important occurs?" And, handing over his new
address, Hickory speedily took his leave.
“ Well, Byrd, what do you think of him?”
For reply, Mr. Byrd stepped forth and took his stand
before the District Attorney.
“ Has Coroner Tredwell informed you," said he, “that
the superintendent has left it to my discretion to interfere
in this matter if I thought that by so doing I could
further the ends of justice ? ”
“ Yes," was the language of the quick, short nod he re-
ceived.
“Very well," continued the other, “you will pardon
me, then, if ask you to convey to Mr. Hildreth the fol-
lowing message : That if he is guiltless of this crime he
need have no fear of the results of the arrest to which he
may be subjected ; that a man has interested himself .in
this matter who pledges his word not to rest till he has
discovered the guilty party and freed the innocent from
suspicion."
“What!” cried Mr. Ferris, astonished at the severe
but determined bearing of the young man who, up to
this time, he had only seen under his lighter and more
indifferent aspect. “ You don't agree with this fellow,
then, in his conclusions regarding Mr. Hildreth ? ”


THE GENTLEMAN FROM TOLEDO. 167
“ No, sir. Hickory, as I judge, is an egotist. He dis-
covered Mr. Hildreth and brought him to the notice of
the jury, therefore Mr. Hildreth is guilty."
“ And you ? ”
“I am open to doubt about it. Not that Iwould
acknowledge it to any one but you, sir."
“ Why ?"
“Because if I work in this case at all, or make any
efforts to follow up- - the clue which I believe myself to
have received, it must be done secretly, and without
raising the suspicion of any one in this town. I am not
in a position, as you know, to work openly, even if it
were advisable to do so, which it certainly is not.
What I do‘ must be accomplished under cover, and
I ask you to help me in my self.imposed and by no
means agreeable task, by trusting me to pursue my
inquiries alone, until such time as I assure myself be-
yond a doubt that my own convictions are just, and
that the man who murdered Mrs. Clemmens is some
one entirely separated from Mr. Hildreth and any
interests that he represents."
“You are, then, going to take up this case?"
The answer given was short, but it meant the delib-
erate shivering of the fairest dream of love that had ever
visited Mr. Byrd's imagination.
“ I am."


- _._ __... ..-...._.-..1.-v-an
BOQK II.
THE WEAVING OF A WEB.
XII.
THE SPIDER.
“ Thus far we run before the wind.”
N the interview which Mr. Byrd had held with Miss
I Dare he had been conscious of omitting one test
which many another man in his place would have made.
This was the utterance of the name of him whom he really
believed to be the murderer of Mrs. Clemmens. Had he
spoken this name, had he allowed himself to breathe the
words “Craik Mansell ” into the ears of this agitated
woman, or even gone so far as to allude in the most care-
less way to the widow's nephew, he felt sure his daring
would have been rewarded by some expression on her
part that would have given him a substantial basis. for
his theories to rest upon.
But he had too much natural chivalry for this. His
feelings as a man got in the way of his instinct as a detec-
tive. Nevertheless, he felt positive that his suspicions in
regard to this nephew of Mrs. Clemmens were correct,
and set about the task of fitting facts to his theory, with
all that settled and dogged determination which follows
the pursuit of a stern duty unwillingly embraced.
:68


THE WEAVING oF A WEB. 169
Two points requiredinstant settling. -
.
First, the truth or falsehood of his supposition as to
the identification of the person confronted by Miss Dare
in the Syracuse depot with the young man described by
Miss Firman as the nephew of Widow Clemmens.
Secondly, the existence or non.existence of proof going
to show the presence of this person at or near the house
of Mrs. Clemmens, during the time of the assault.
But before proceeding to satisfy himself in regard to
these essentials, he went again to the widow's house and
there spent an hour in a careful study of its inner and
outer arrangements, with a view to the formation of a
complete theory as to the manner and method of the
murder. He found that in default of believing Mr.
Hildreth the assailant, one supposition was positively
necessary, and this was that the murderer was in the
house when this gentleman came to it. A glance at the
diagram on next page will explain why..‘
The house, as you will see, has but three entrances:
the front door, at which Mr. Hildreth unconsciously
stood guard ; the kitchen.door, also unconsciously guard-
ed during the critical moment by the coming and going
of the tramp through the yard; and the dining.room
door, which, though to all appearance free from the sur-
veillance of any eye, was so situated in reference to the
clock at which the widow stood when attacked, that it
was manifestly impossible for any one to enter it and
cross the room to the hearth without attracting the atten-
tion of her eye if not of her ear.


/ _.'_-.__
I 70 HAND AND RING.
SWAMP
Q:

MRS..DAN'[.0N'$.HOU$E


To be sure, there was the bare possibility of his having
come in by the kitchen.door, after the departure of the
tramp, but such a contingency was scarcely worth con-
sidering. The almost certain conclusion was ti-at he had


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. I71
been in the house for some time, and was either in the
dining.room when Mrs. Clemmens returned to it from her
interview with Mr. Hildreth, or else came down to it from
the floor above by means of the staircase that so strangely
descended into that very room.
Another point looked equally clear. The escape of
the murderer—still in default of considering Mr. Hildreth
as such—must have been by means of one of the back
doors, and must have been in the direction of the woods.
To be sure there was a stretch of uneven and marshy
ground to be travelled over before the shelter of the trees
could be reached ; but a person driven by fear could, at
a pinch, travel it in five minutes or less; and a momen-
tary calculation on the part of Mr. Byrd sufliced to show
him that more time than this had elapsed from the prob-
able instant of assault to the moment when Mr. Ferris
opened the side door and looked out upon the swamp.
The dearth of dwellings on the left.hand side of the
street, and, consequently, the comparative immunity
from observation which was given to that portion of the
house which over.looked the swamp, made him conclude
that this outlet from the dining.room had been the one
made use of in the murderer's flight. A glance down the
yard to the broken fence that separated the widow's land
from the boggy fields beyond, only tended to increase the
probabilities of this supposition, and, alert to gain for
himself that full knowledge of the situation necessary to
a successful conduct of this mysterious affair, he hastily


I72 HAND AND RING.
..., ..-....-....--.
left the house and started across the swamp, with the idea
of penetrating the woods and discovering for himself
what opportunity they afforded for concealment or
escape.
He had more difiiculty in doing this than he expected.
The ground about the hillocks was half.sunk in water,
and the least slip to one side invariably precipitated him
among the brambles that encumbered this spot. Still, he
compassed his task in little more than five minutes,
arriving at the firm ground, and its sturdy growth of
beeches and maples, well covered with Inud, but so far
thoroughly satisfied with' the result of his efforts.
The next thing to be done was to search the woods,
not for the purpose of picking up clues—it was too late
for that—but to determine what sort of a refuge they
afforded, and whether, in the event of a man's desiring to
penetrate them quickly, many impediments would arise
in the shape of tangled underground or loose.lying
stones.
He found them remarkably clear ; so much so, indeed,
that he travelled for some distance into their midst before
he realized that he had passed beyond their borders.
More than this, he came ere long upon something like a
path, and, following it, emerged into a sort of glade,
where, backed up against a high rock, stood a small and
seemingly deserted hut. It was the first object he had
met with that in any way suggested the possible presence
of man, and advancing to it with cautious steps, he looked


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. I73
into its open door.way. Nothing met his eyes but an
empty interior, and without pausing to bestow upon the
building a further thought, he hurried on through a path
he saw opening beyond it, till he came to the end of the
wood.
Stepping forth, he paused in astonishment. Instead
of having penetrated the woods in a direct line, he found
that he had merely described a half circle through them,
and now stood on a highway leading directly back into
the town.
Likewise, he was in full sight of the terminus of a line
of horse.cars that connected this remote region of Sibley
with its business portion, and though distant a good mile
from the railway depot, was, to all intents and purposes,
as near that means of escape as he would have been in
the street in front of Widow Clemmens' house.
Full of thoughts and inly wondering over the fatality
that had confined the attention of the authorities to the
approaches afforded by the lane, to the utter exclusion of
this more circuitous, but certainly more elusive, road of
escape, he entered upon the highway, and proceeded to
gain the horse.car he saw standing at the head of the road,
a few rods away. As he did so, he for the first time re-
alized just where he was. The elegant villa of Professor
Darling rising before him on the ridge that ran along on
the right.hand side of the road, made it at once evident
that he was on the borders of that choice and aristocratic
' quarter known as the West Side. It was a new region to
~‘—' '


174 HAND AND RING.
him, and, pausing for a moment, he cast his eyes over the
scene which lay stretched out before him. He had fre-
quently heard it said that the view commanded by the
houses on the ridge was the finest in the town, and he was
not disappointed in it. As he looked across the verdant
basin of marshy ground around which the road curved
like a horseshoe, he could see the city spread out like a
map before him. So unobstructed, indeed, was the view
he had of its various streets and buildings, that he thought
he could even detect, amid the taller and more conspicu-
ous dwellings, the humble walls and newly.shingled roof
of the widow's cottage.
But he could not be sure of this ; his eyesight was any
thing but trustworthy for long distances, and hurrying
forward to the car, he took his seat just as‘ it was about
to start.
It carried him straight into town, and came to a stand-
still not ten feet from the railroad depot. As he left it
and betook himself back to his hotel, he gave to his
thoughts a distinct though inward expression. '
“ If," he mused, “ my suppositions in regard to this
matter are true, and another man than Mr. Hildreth
struck the fatal blow, then I have just travelled over the
self.same route he took in his flight."
But were his suppositions true? It remained for him to
determine.


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. . I75
XIII.
THE FLY.
Like—but ob! how difEerent.—Woanswo1.m'r.
THE paper mill of Harrison, Goodman & Cham-
berlain was situated in one of the main thorough-
fares of Buffalo. It was a large but otherwise unpreten-
tious building, and gave employment to a vast number of
operatives, mostly female.
Some of these latter might have been surprised, and
possiblya little fluttered, one evening, at seeing a well-
dressed young gentleman standing at the gate as they
came forth, gazing withlanguid interest from one face to
another, as if he were on the look.out for some one of
their number.
But they would have been yet more astonished could
they have seen him still lingering after the last one had
passed, watching with unabated patience the opening and
shutting of the small side door devoted to the use of the
firm, and such employés as had seats in the office. It
was Mr. Byrd, and his purpose there at this time of day
was to see and review the whole rank and file of. the
young men employed in the place, in the hope of being
able to identify the nephew of Mrs. Clemmens by his sup-
posed resemblance to the person whose character of face
and.form had been so minutely described to him.


.’ .-......_
I76 HAND AND RING.
For Mr. Byrd was a just man and a thoughtful one, and
knowing this identification to be the key.stone of his
lately formed theory, desired it to be complete and of no
doubtful character. He accordingly held fast to his
position, watching and waiting, seemingly in vain, for the
dark, powerful face and the sturdily.built frame of the
gentleman whose likeness he had attempted to draw in
conjunction with that of Miss Dare. But, though he saw
many men of all sorts and kinds issue from one door or
another of this vast building, not one of them struck him
with that sudden and unmistakable sense of familiarity
which he had a right to expect, and he was just beginning
to doubt if the whole framework of his elaborately.formed
theory was not destined to fall into ruins, when the small
door, already alluded to, opened once more, and a couple
of gentlemen came out.
The appearance of one of them gave Mr. Byrd a start.
He was young, powerfully built, wore a large mustache,
and had a complexion of unusual swarthiness. There
was character, too, in his face, though not so much as Mr.
Byrd had expected to see in the nephew of Mrs. Clem-
mens. Still, people. differ about degrees of expression,
and to his informant this face might have appeared strong.
He was dressed in abusiness suit, and was without an
overcoat—two facts that made it diflicult for Mr. Byrd
to get any assistance from the cut and color of his
clothes. .
But there was enough in the general style and bearing


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. I77
of this person to make Mr. Byrd anxious to know his
name. He, therefore, took it upon himself to follow
him—a proceeding which brought him to the corner just
in time to see the two gentlemen separate, and the espe-
cial one in whom he was interested, step into a car.
He succeeded in getting a seat in the same car, and for
some blocks had the pleasure of watching the back of the
supposed Mansell, as he stood on the front platform with
the driver. Then others got in, and the detective's view
was obstructed, and present1y—he never could tell how
it was—he lost track of the person he was shadowing,
and when the chance came for another sight of the driver
and platform, the young man was gone.
Annoyed beyond expression, Mr. Byrd went to a hotel,
and next day sent to the mill and procured the address
of Mr. Mansell. Going to the place named, he found it
to be a very respectable boarding.house, and, chancing
upon a time when more or less of the rooms were empty,
succeeded in procuring for himself an apartment there.
So here he was a fixture in the house supposed by him
to hold the murderer of Mrs. Clemmens. When the
time for dinner came, and with it an opportunity for set-
tling the vexed question of Mr. Mansel1's identity not
only with the man in the Syracuse depot, but with the
person who had eluded his pursuit the day before, some-
thing of the excitement of the hunter in view of his game
seized upon this hitherto imperturbable detective, and it
was with diificulty he could sustain his usual nil: of fash-
ionable indifference.


178 HAND AND limo.
He arrived at the table before any of the other board-
ers, and presently a goodly array of amiable matrons, old
and young gentlemen, and pretty girls came filing into the
room, and finally—yes, finally—the gentleman whom he
had followed from the mill the day before, and whom he
now had no hesitation in fixing upon as Mr. Mansell.
But the satisfaction occasioned by the settlement of
this perplexing question was dampened somewhat by a
sudden and uneasy sense of being himself at a disadvan-
tage. Why he should feel thus he did not know. Per-
haps the almost imperceptible change which took place
in that gentleman's face as their eyes first met, may have
caused the unlooked.for sensation ; though why Mr.
Mansell should change at the sight of one who musthave
been a perfect stranger to him, was more than Mr. Byrd
could understand. It was enough that the latter felt he
-had made a mistake in not having donned a disguise
before entering this house, and that, oppressed by the
idea, he withdrew his attention from the man he had
come to watch, and fixed it upon more immediate and
personal matters.
The meal was half over. Mr. Byrd who, as a stranger
of more than ordinary good looks and prepossessing man-
ners, had been placed by the obliging landlady between
her own daughter and a lady of doubtful attractions, was
endeavoring to improve his advantages and make him-
self as agreeable as possible to both of his neighbors,
when he heard a lady near him say aloud, “ You are late,


THE waavmc. OF A WEB. 179
Mr. Mansell," and, looking up in his amazement, saw

entering the door Well, in the presence of the real
owner of this name, he wondered he ever could have
fixed upon the other man as the original of the person
that had been described to him. The strong face, the
sombre expression, the herculean frame, were unique,
and in the comparison which they inevitably called forth,
made all other men in the room look dwarfed if not
actually commonplace.
Greatly surprised at this new turn of affairs, and satis-
fied that he at last had before him the man who had con-
fronted Miss Dare in the Syracuse depot, he turned his
attention back to the ladies. He, however, took care to
keep one ear open on the side of the new.comer, in the
hope of gleaning from his style and manner of -conversa-
tion some notion of his disposition and nature.
But Craik Mansell was at no time a talkative man, and
at this especial period of his career was less inclined than
ever to enter into the trivial debates or good.natured
repartee that was the staple of conversation at Mrs.
Hart's table.
So Mr. Byrd's wishes in this regard were foiled. He
succeeded, however, in assuring himself by a square look,
into the other's face, that to whatever temptation this man
may have succumbed, or of whatever crime he may have
been guilty, he was by nature neither cold, cruel, nor
treacherous, and that the deadly blow, if dealt by him,
was the offspring of some sudden impulse or violent


180 HAND AND RING.
ebullition of temper, and was being repented of with
every breath he drew.
But this discovery, though it modified Mr. Byrd's own
sense of personal revolt against the man, could not influ-
ence him in the discharge of his duty, which was to save
another of less interesting and perhaps less valuable traits
of character from the consequences of acrime he had
never committed. It was, therefore, no more than just,
that, upon withdrawing from the table, he should endeavor
to put himself in the way of settling that second question,
upon whose answer in the affirmative depended the right-
ful establishment of his secret suspicions.
That was, whether this young man was at or near the
house of his aunt at the time when she was assaulted.
Mrs. Hart's parlors were always thrown open to her
boarders in the evening.
There, at any time from seven to ten, you might meet
a merry crowd of young people intent upon enjoying
themselves, and usually highly successful in their endeav-
ors to do so. I.nto this throng Mr. Byrd accordingly
insinuated himself, and being of the sort to win instant
social recognition, soon found he had but to make his
choice in order to win for himself that téte.d.téle conver-
sation from which he hoped so much. He consequently
surveyed the company with a critical eye, and soon made
up his mind as to which lady was the most affable in her
manners and the least likely to meet his advances with
haughty reserve, and having won an introduction to her,


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. I8I
sat down at her side with the stern determination of
making her talk about Mr. Mansell.
“You have a very charming company here,” he re-
marked -.; “the house seems to be filled with a most
cheerful class of people."
“Yes," was the not.unlooked.for reply. “We are all
merry enough if we except Mr. Mansell. But, of course,
there is excuse for him. No one expects him to join in
our sports."
“ Mr. Mansell ? the gentleman who came inflate to
supper ?" repeated Mr. Byrd, with no suggestion of the
secret satisfaction he felt at the immediate success of his
scheme.
“ Yes, he is in great trouble, you know ; is the nephew
of the woman who was killed a few days ago at Sibley,
don't you remember? The widow lady who was struck
on the head by a man of the name of Hildreth, and who
died after uttering something about a ring, supposed by
many to be an attempt on her part to describe the mur-
derer ? " ‘
“ and
“ Yes," was the slow, almost languid, response ;
a dreadful thing, too ; quite horrifying in its nature. And
so this Mr. Mansell is her nephew?" he suggestively re-
peated- “Odd ! I suppose he has told you all about the
affair ? "
“ He? Mercy ! I don't suppose you could get him to
say anything about it to save your life. He is n't of the '
talking sort. Besides, I don't believe he knows any more
about it than you or I. He has n't been to Sibley."


I82 HAND AND RING.
“ Did n't he go to the funeral ? ”
“ No ; he said he was too ill ; and indeed he was shut
up one whole day with a terrible sore throat. He is the
heir, too, of all her savings, they say; but he won't go
to Sibley. Some folks think it is queer, but I "
Here her eyes wandered and her almost serious look

vanished in a somewhat coquettish smile. Following her
gaze with his own, Mr. Byrd perceived a gentleman ap-
proaching. It was the one he had first taken for Mr.
Mansell.
“Beg pardon," was the somewhat abrupt salutation
with which this person advanced. “But they are pro-
posing a game in the next room, and Miss Clayton's as-
sistance is considered absolutely indispensable."
“Mr. Brown, first allow me to make you acquainted
with Mr. Byrd," said the light.hearted damsel, with a
gracious inclination. “As you are both strangers, it is
well for you to know each other, especially as I expect
you to join in our games."
“Thank you," protested Mr. Brown, “ but I don't
play games." Then seeing the deep bow of acquiescence
which Mr. Byrd was making, added, with what appeared
to be a touch of jealousy, “ Except under strong provo-
cation," and holding out his arm, offered to escort the
young lady into the next room.'
With an apologetic glance at Mr. Byrd, she accepted
the attention proffered her, and speedily vanished into
the midst of the laughing group that awaited her.


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 183
Mr. Byrd found himself alone. .
“Check number one," thought. he; and he bestowed
any thing but an amiable benediction upon the man who
had interrupted him in the midst of so promising a con-
versation.
His next move was in the direction of the landlady's
daughter, who, being somewhat shy, favored a retired
nook behind the piano. They had been neighbors at
table, and he could at once address her without fear of
seeming obtrusive.
“I do not see here the dark young gentleman whom
you call Mr. Mansell ? " he remarked, inquiringly.
“ Oh, no ; he is in trouble. A near relative of his was
murdered in cold blood the other day, and under the
most aggravating circumstances. Have n't you heard
about it ? She was a Mrs. Clemmens, and lived in Sibley.
It was in all the papers."
“ Ah, yes ; I remember about it very well. And so he
is her nephew," he went on, recklessly repeating himself
in his determination to elicit all he could from these
young and thoughtless misses. “A peculiar.looking
young man; has the air of thoroughly understanding
himself."
“Yes, he is very smart, they say."
“Does he never talk ?"
“Oh, yes; that is, he used to; but, since his aunt's
death, we don't expect it. He is very much interested in
II
machinery, and has invented something


!84 . HAND AND RING.
“ Oh, Clara, you are not going to sit here," interposed
the reproachful voice of a saucy.eyed maiden, who at this
moment peeped around the corner of the piano. “We
want all the recruits we can get,” she cried, with a sud-
den blush, as she encountered the glance of Mr. Byrd.
“D0 come, and bring the gentleman too." And she
slipped away to join that very Mr. Brown who, by his im-
portunities, had been the occasion of the former interrup-
tion from which Mr. Byrd had suffered.
“That man and I will quarrel yet," was the mental
exclamation with which the detective rose. “Shall we
join your friends?" asked he, assuming an unconcer n he
was far from feeling. ’
“ Yes, if you please," was the somewhat timid, though
evidently pleased, reply.
And Mr. Byrd noted down in his own mind check
number two.
The game was a protracted one. Twice did he think
to escape from the merry crowd he had entered, and
twice did he fail to do so. The indefatigable Brown
would not let him slip, and it was only by a positive
exertion of his will that he finally succeeded in withdraw-
ing himself.
“I wish to have a word with your mother," he ex-
plained, in reply to the look of protest with which Miss
Hart honored his departure. “ I hear she retires early ;
so you will excuse me if I leave somewhat abruptly."
And to Mrs. Hart's apartment he at once proceeded,
.__


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 185
~‘._fl7?
and, by dint of his easy assurance, soon succeeded in
leading her, as he had already done the rest, into a dis-
cussion of the one topic for which he had an interest.
He had not time, however, to glean much from her, for,
just as she was making the admission that Mr. Mansell
had not been home at the time of the murder, a knock
was heard at the door, and, with an affable bow and a
' short, quick stare of surprise at Mr. Byrd, the ubiquitous
Mr. Brown stepped in and took a seat on the sofa, with
every appearance of intending to make a call.
At this third check, Mr. Byrd was more than annoyed.
Rising, however, with the most amiable courtesy, he
bowed his acknowledgments to the landlady, and, without
heeding her pressing invitation to remain and make the
acquaintance of Mr. Brown, left the room and betook
himself back to the parlors. ,
.
He was just one minute too late. The last of the
boarders had gone up.stairs, and only an empty room met
his eyes.
He at once ascended to his own apartment. It was on
the fourth floor. There were many other rooms on this
floor, and for a moment he could not remember which
was his own door. At last, however, he felt sure it was
the third one from the stairs, and, going to it, gave a
short knock in case of mistake, and, hearing no reply,
opened it and went in.
The first glance assured him that his recollection had
played him false, and that he was in the wrong room.


r86 HAND AND RING.
The second, that he was in that of Mr. Mansell. The
sight of the small model of a delicate and intricate
machine that stood in full view on a table before him
would have been sufficient assurance of this fact, even if
the inventor himself had been absent. But he was there.
Seated at a table, with his back to the door, and his head
bowed forward on his arms, he presented such a picture
of misery or despair, that Mr. Byrd felt his sympathies
touched in spite of himself, and hastily stumbling back-
ward, was about to confusedly withdraw, when a doubt
struck him as to the condition of the deathly, still, and
somewhat pallid figure before him, and, stepping hurriedly
forward, he spoke the young man's name, and, failing to
elicit a response, laid his hand on his shoulder, with an
apology for disturbing him, and an inquiry as to how he
felt.
The touch acted where the voice had failed. Leaping
from his partly recumbent position, Craik Mansell faced
the intruder with indignant inquiry written in every line
of his white and determined face.
“ To what do I owe this intrusion?" he cried, his
nostrils expanding and contracting with an anger that
proved the violence of his nature when aroused.
“First, to my carelessness," responded Mr. Byrd;
and, secondly "

But there he paused, for the first
time in his life, perhaps, absolutely robbed of speech.
His eye had fallen upon a picture that the other held
clutched in his vigorous right hand. It was a photo-


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 187
graph of Imogene D'are, and it was made conspicuous by
two heavy black lines which had been relentlessy drawn
across the face in the form of a cross. “ Secondly," he
went on, after a moment, resolutely tearing his gaze away
from this startling and suggestive object, “to my fears.
I thought you looked ill, and could not forbear making
an effort to reassure myself that all was right."
“ Thank you," ejaculated the other, in a heavy weari-
ful tone. And with a short bow
he partially turned his back, with a distinct intimation
that he desired to be left alone.
Mr. Byrd could not resist this appeal.
“ I am perfectly well."
Glad as he
would have been for even a moment's conversation with
this man, he was, perhaps unfortunately, too much of a
gentleman to press himself forward against the expressed
wishes even of a suspected criminal. He accordingly
withdrew to the door, and was about to open it and go
out, when it was flung violently forward, and the ever-
obtrusive Brown stepped in.
This second intrusion was more than unhappy Mr.
Mansell could stand. Striding passionately forward, he
met the unblushing Brown at full tilt, and angrily point-
ing to the door, asked if it was not the custom of gentle-
men to knock before entering the room of strangers.
“I beg pardon," said the other, backing across the
“i had
no idea of its being a-stranger's room. I thought it was
threshold, with a profuse display of confusion.
my own. I—I was sure that my door was the third from


I88 HAND AND RING.
the stairs. Excuse me, excuse me." And he bustled
noisily out.
This precise reproduction of his own train of thought
and action confounded Mr. Byrd.
Turning with a deprecatory glance to the perplexed
and angry occupant of the room, he said something
about not knowing the person who had just left them;
and then, conscious that a further contemplation of the
stem and suffering countenance before him would un-
nerve him for the duty he had to perform, hurriedly
withdrew.


THE WEAVING oF A WEB. 189
XIV.
A LAST ATTEMPT.
'When Fortune means to men most good,
She looks upon them with a threatening eye.—K1Nc JoHN.
THE sleep of Horace Byrd that night was any thing
_but refreshing. In the first place, he was
troubled about this fellow Brown, whose last imperti-
nence showed he was a man to be watched, and, if
possible, understood. Secondly, he was haunted- - by a
vision of the unhappy youth he had just left; seeing,
again and again, both in his dreams and in the rush of
heated fancies which followed his awaking, that picture
of utter despair which the opening of his neighbor's door
had revealed. He could not think of that poor mortal
as sleeping. Whether it was the result of his own sym-
pathetic admiration for Miss Dare, or of some subtle clair-
voyance bestowed upon him by the darkness and still-
ness of the hour, he felt assured that the quiet watch he
had interrupted by his careless importunity, had been
again established, and that if he could tear down the
partition separating their two rooms, he should see that
bowed form and buried face crouched despairingly above
the disfigured picture. The depths of human misery and
the maddening passions that underlie all crime had been


I90 HAND AND RING.
revealed to him for the first time, perhaps, in all their
terrible suggestiveness, and he asked himself over and
over as he tossed on his uneasy pillow, if he possessed
the needful determination to carry on the scheme he had
undertaken, in face of the unreasoning sympathies which
the fathomless misery of this young man had aroused.
Under the softening influences of the night, he answered,
No; but when the sunlight came and the full flush of
life with its restless duties and common necessities awoke
within him, he decided, Yes.
Mr. Mansell was not at the breakfast.table when Mr.
Byrd came down. His duties at the mill were peremp-
tory, and he had already taken his coffee and gone. But
Mr. Brown was there, and at sight of him Mr. Byrd's
caution took alarm, and he bestowed upon this intrusive
busybody a close and searching scrutiny. It, however,
elicited nothing in the way of his own enlightenment be-
yond the fact that this fellow, total stranger though he
seemed, was for some inexplicable reason an enemy to
himself or his plans. .
Not that Mr. Brown manifested this by any offensive
token of dislike or even of mistrust. On the contrary,
he was excessively polite, and let slip no opportunity of
dragging Mr. Byrd into the conversation. Yet, for all
that, a secret influence was already at work against the
detective, and he could not attribute it to any other
source than the jealous efforts of this man. Miss Hart
was actually curt to him, and in the attitude of the


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. I91
various persons about the board he detected a certain re-
serve which had been entirely absent from their manner
the evening before.
But while placing, as he thought, due weight upon this
fellow's animosity, he had no idea to what it would lead,
till he went up.stairs. Mrs. Hart, who had hitherto
treated him with the utmost cordiality, now called him
into the parlor, and told him frankly that she would be
obliged to him if he would let her have his room. To be
sure, she qualified the seeming harshness of her request
by an intimation that a permanent occupant had applied
for it, and offered to pay his board at the hotel till
he could find a room to suit him in another house ; but
the fact remained that she was really in a flutter to rid
herself of him, and no subterfuge could hide it, and Mr.
Byrd, to whose plans the full confidence of those around
him was essential, found himself obliged to acquiesce in
her desires, and announce at once his willingness to de-
part.
Instantly she was all smiles, and overwhelmed him with
overtures of assistance ; but he courteously declined her
help, and, flying from her apologies with what speed he
could, went immediately to his room. Here he sat down
to deliberate.
The facts he had gleaned, despite the interference of
his unknown enemy, were three :
First, that Craik Mansell had found excuses for not at-
tending the inquest, or even the funeral, of his murdered
aunt


192 HAND AND RING.
Secondly, that he had a strong passion for invention,
and had even now the model of a machine on hand.
And third, that he was not at home, wherever else
he may have been, on the morning of the murder in
Sibley.
“ A poor and meagre collection of insignificant facts,”
thought Mr. Byrd. “Too poor and meagre to avail
much in stemming the tide threatening to overwhelm
Gouverneur Hildreth."
But what opportunity remained for making them
weightier? He was turned from the house that held the
few. persons from whom he could hope to glean more
complete and satisfactory information, and he did
not know where else to seek it unless he went to the
mill. And this was an alternative from which he shrank,
as it would, in the first place, necessitate a revelation of his
real character ; and, secondly, make known the fact that
Mr. Mansell was under the surveillance of the police, if
not in the actual attitude of a suspected man.
A quick and hearty, “Shure, you are very good,
sir!" uttered in the hall without roused him from his
meditations and turned his thoughts in a new direction.
What if he could learn something from the servants ? He
had not thought of them. This girl, now, whose work
constantly carried her into the various rooms on this
floor, would, of course, know whether Mr. Mansell had
been away on the day of the murder, even if she
could not tell the precise time of his return. At all


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 193
events, it was worth while totest her with a question
or two before he left, even if he had to resort to the
means of spurring her memory with money. His failure
in other directions did not necessitate a failure here.
He accordingly called her in, and showing her a
bright silver dollar, asked her if she thought it good
enough pay for a short answer to a simple question.
To his great surprise she blushed and drew back, shak-
ing her head and muttering that her mistress did n't like
to have the girls talk to the young men about the house,
and finally going off with a determined toss of her frowsy
head, that struck Mr. Byrd aghast, and made him be-
lieve more than ever that his evil star hung in the ascend-
ant, and that the sooner he quit the house the better.
In ten minutes he was in the street.
But one thing now remained for him to do. He must
make the acquaintance of one of the mill.owners, or
possibly of an overseer or accountant, and from him learn
where Mr. Mansell had been at the time of his aunt's
murder. To this duty he devoted the day; but here
also he was met by unexpected difliculties. Though he
took pains to disguise himself before proceeding to the
mill, all the endeavors which he made to obtain an inter-
view there with any responsible person were utterly fruit-
less. Whether his ill.luck at the house had followed him
to this place he could not tell, but, for some reason or
other, there was not one of the gentlemen for whom he
inquired but had some excuse for not seeing him ; and,


I94 HAND- AND RING.
worn out at last with repeated disappointments, if not
oppressed by the doubtful looks he received from the
various subordinates who carried his messages, he left the
building, and proceeded to make use of the only means
now left him of compassing his end. ’
This was to visit Mr. Goodman, the one member of the
firm who was not at his post that day, and see if from
him he could gather the single fact he was in search of.
“Perhaps the atmosphere of distrust with which I am
surrounded in this quarter has not reached this gentle-
man's house,” thought he. And having learned from the
directory where that house was, he proceeded immedi-
ately to it.
His reception was by no means cordial. Mr. Good-
man had been ill the night before, and was in no mood
to see strangers.
“Mansell?" he coolly repeated, in acknowledgment
of the other's inquiry as to whether he had a person of
that name in his employ. “Yes, our book.keeper's
name is Mansell. May I ask ”—and here Mr. Byrd felt
himself subjected to a thorough, if not severe, scrutiny-
“ why you come to me with inquiries concerning him?"
“ Because," the determined detective responded, adopt-
ing at once the bold course, “you can put me in posses-
sion of a fact which it eminently befits the cause of
justice to know. I am an emissary, sir, from the District
Attorney at Sibley, and the point I want settled is,
where Mr. Mansell was on the morning of the twenty-
sixth of September ?"


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. I95
This was business, and the look that involuntarily
leaped into Mr. Goodman's eye proved that he considered'
it so. He did not otherwise betray this feeling, however,
but turned quite calmly toward a chair, into which he
slowly settled himself before replying :
“ And why do you not ask the gentleman himself where
he was? He probably would be quite ready to tell you."
The inflection he gave to these words warned Mr.
Byrd to be careful. The truth was, Mr. Goodman was
Mr. Mansel1's best friend, and as such had his own
'reasons for not being especially communicative in his
regard, to this stranger. The detective vaguely felt this,
and immediately changed his manner.
“ I have no doubt of that, sir," he ingenuously answered.
“ But Mr. Mansell has had so much to distress him lately,
that I was desirous of saving him from the unpleasant-
ness which such a question would necessarily cause. It
is only a small matter, sir. A person—it is not essential
to state whom—-has presumed to raise ' the question
among the authorities in Sibley as to whether Mr. Man-
sell, as heir of poor Mrs. Clemmens' small property,
might not have had some hand in her dreadful death.
There was no proof to sustain the assumption, and Mr.
Mansell was not even known to have been in the town on
or after the day of her murder ; but justice, having
listened to the aspersion, felt bound to satisfy itself of its
falsity ; and I was sent here to learn where Mr. Mansell
was upon that fatal day. I find he was not in Buffalo.


:96 HAND AND RING.
But this does not mean he was in Sibley, and I am sure
that, if you will, you can supply me with facts that will
lead to a complete and satisfactory alibi for him."
But the hard caution of the other was not to be moved.
“ I am sorry," said he, “ but I can give you no infor.-
mation in regard to Mr. Mansell's travels. You will have
to ask the gentleman himself."
“You did not send him out on business of your own,
then ? "
“ No."
“ But you knew he was going?"
“ Yes." ,
“ And can tell when he came back P”
“ He was in his place on Wednesday."
The cold, dry nature of these replies convinced Mr.
Byrd that something more than the sullen obstinacy of
an uncommunicative man lay behind this determined
reticence. Looking at Mr. Goodman inquiringly, he
calmly remarked :
“You are a friend of Mr. Mansell?"
The answer came quick and coldly :
“ He is a constant visitor at my house."
Mr. Byrd made a respectful bow.
“You can, then, have no doubts of his ability to prove
an alibi? "
“ I have no doubts concerning M‘r. Mansell," was the
stern and uncompromising reply.
Mr. Byrd at once felt he had received his disrnissal.
But before making up his mind to go, he resolved upon
4-


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. I97
one further effort. Calling to his aid his full power of
acting, he slowly shook his head with a thoughtful air,
and presently murmured half aloud and half, as it were,
to himself :
“I thought, possibly, he might have gone to Washing-
ton." Then, with a casual glance at Mr. Goodman,
added : “ He is an inventor, I believe ?”
“ Yes," was again the laconic response.
“Has he not a machine at present which he desires to
bring to the notice of some capitalist?"
-‘.‘- I believe he has," was the forced and none too amia-
big answer.
Mr. Byrd at once leaned confidingly forward.
“Don't you think," he asked, “that he may have gone
to New York to consult with some one about this pet
. hobby of his ? It would certainly be a natural thing for
him to do, and if I only knew it was so, I could go back
to Sibley with an easy conscience."
His disinterested air, and the tone of kindly concern
which he had adopted, seemed at last to produce its effect
on his companion. Relaxing a trifle of his austerity, Mr.
Goodman went so far as to admit that Mr. Mansell had
told him that business connected with his patent had
called him out of town ; but beyond this he would allow
nothing; and Mr. Byrd, baflled in his attempts to elicit
from this man any distinct acknowledgment of Mr. Man-
sell's whereabouts at the critical time of Mrs. Clemmens'
death, made a final bow and turned toward the door.
It was only at this moment he discovered that Mr.


198 HAND AND RING.
Goodman and himself had not been alone in the room;
that curled up in one of the window.seats was a little girl
of some ten or twelve years of age, who at the first tokens
of his taking his departure slipped shyly down to the
floor and ran before him out into the hall. He found
her by the front door when he arrived there. She was
standing with her hand on the knob, and presented- such
a picture of childish eagerness, tempered by childish ti-
midity, that he involuntarily paused before her with a
smile. She needed no further encouragement.
“ Oh, sir, I know about Mr. Mansell ! "she cried. “ He
wasn't in that place you talk about, for he wrote a letter
to papa just the day before he came back, and the post-
mark on the envelope was Monteith. I remember, be-
cause it was the name of the man who made our big
map." And, looking up with that eager zeal which marks
'the liking of very little folks for some one favorite person
among their grown acquaintances, she added, earnestly:
“I do hope you won't let them say any thing bad about
Mr. Mansell, he is so good."
' And without waiting for a reply, she ran off, her curls
dancing, her eyes sparkling, all her little innocent form
alive with the joy of having done a kindness, as she
thought, for her favorite, Mr. Mansell.
Mr. Byrd, on the contrary, felt a strange pang that the
information he had sought for so long and vainly should
come at last from the lips of an innocent child.
Monteith, as you remember, was the next station to
Sibley.


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. I99
l
XV.
THE END OF A TORTUOUS PATH.
Thus bad begins and worse remains behind.—HA1vu.nr.
HE arrest of Mr. Hildreth had naturally quieted
T public suspicion by fixing attention upon a defi-
nite point, so that when Mr. Byrd returned to Sibley he
found that he could pursue whatever inquiries he chose
without awakening the least mistrust that he was on the
look.out for the murderer of Mrs. Clemmens.
The first use he made of his time was to find out if Mr.
Mansell, or any man answering to his description, had
been seen to take the train from the Sibley station on the
afternoon or evening of the fatal Tuesday. The result
was unequivocal. No such person had heen seen there,
and no such person was believed to have been at the
station at any time during that day. This was his first
disappointment. ‘
He next made the acquaintance of the conductors on
that line of street.cars by means of which he believed
Mr. Mansell to have made his escape. But with no bet-
ter result. Not one of them remembered having taken
up, of late, .any passenger from the terminus, of the ap-
pearance described by Mr. Byrd.
And this was his second disappointment.


200 HAND AND RING.
His next duty was obviously to change his plan of
action and make the town of Monteith the centre of his
inquiries. But he hesitated to do this till he had made one
other visit to the woods in whose recesses he still be-
lieved the murderer to have plunged immediately upon
dealing the fatal blow.
He went by the way of the street railroad, not wishing ,
to be again seen crossing the bog, and arrived at the hut
in the centre of the glade without meeting any one or
experiencing the least adventure.
This time he went in, but nothing was to be seen save
bare logs, a rough hearth where a fire had once been
built, and the rudest sort of bench and table ; and hurry-
ing forth again, he looked doubtfully up and down the
glade in pursuit of some hint to guide him in his future
researches.
Suddenly he received one. The thick wall of foliage
which at first glance revealed but the two outlets already
traversed by him, showed upon close inspection a third
path, opening well behind the hut, and leading, as he
soon discovered, in an entirely opposite direction from
that which had taken him to West Side. Merely stop-
ping to cast one glance at the sun, which was still well
overhead, he set out on this new path. It was longer and
much more intricate than the other. It led through hol-
lows and up steéps, and finally out into an open black-
berry patch, where it seemed to terminate. But a close
study of the surrounding bushes, soon disclosed


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 201
signs of a narrow and thread.like passage curving about a.
rocky steep. Entering this he presently found himself
drawn again into the woods, which he con'tinued to. trav-
erse till he came to a road cut through the heart of the
forest, for the use of the lumbermen. Here he paused.
Should he turn to the right or left? He decided to turn
to the right.
stones where it was not marked with the hoofs of both
Keeping in the road, which was rough with
horses and cattle, he walked for some distance. .Then he
emerged into open space again, and discovered that he
was on the hillside overlooking Monteith, and that by a
mile or two's further walk over the highway that was
dimly to be descried at. the foot of the hill, he would
reach the small station devoted to the uses of the quarry-
men that worked in this place.
There was no longer any further doubt that this route,
and not the other, had been the one taken by Mr. Man-
sell on that fatal afternoon. But he was determined not
to trust any further to mere surmises ; so hastening down
the hill, he made his way in the direction of the highway,
meaning to take the walk alluded to, and learn for him-
self what passengers had taken the train at this point on
the Tuesday afternoon so often mentioned.
~ But a barrier rose in his way. A- stream which he had
barely noticed in the quick glance he threw over the land-
scape from the brow of the hill,.separated with quite a
formidable width of water the hillside from the road, and
it was not till he wandered back for some distance along


202 HAND AND RING.
its banks, that he found a bridge. The time thus lost was
considerable, but he did not think of it ; and when, after a
long and weary tramp, he stepped upon the platform of
the small station, he was so eager to learn if he had cor-
rectly followed the scent, that he forgot to remark that
the road he had taken was any thing but an easy or
. feasible one for a hasty escape.
The accommodation.trains, which alone stop at this
point, had both passed, and he found the station.master
at leisure. A single glance into his honest and intelli-
gent face convinced the detective that he had a reliable
man to deal with. He at once commenced his questions.
“ Do many persons besides the quarrymen take the
train at this place ?" asked he.
“ Not many," was the short but sufficiently good-
natured rejoinder. “ I guess I could easily count them
on the fingers of one hand," he laughed. ‘
“ You would be apt to notice, then, if a strange gentle-
man got on board here at any time, would you not ?"
“ Guess so ; not often troubled that way, but some-
times—sometimes."
“Can you tell me whether a young man of very dark
complexion, heavy mustache, and. a determined, if not
excited, expression, took the cars here for Monteith, say,
any day last week?"
“ I don't know," mused the man. “ Dark complexion,
you say, large mustache ; let me see."
“ No dandy," Mr. Byrd carefully explained, “but a


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 203
strong man, who believes in work. He was possibly in a
state of somewhat nervous hurry," he went on, suggest-
ively, “and if he wore an overcoat at all, it was a gray
one."
The face of the man lighted up.
“ I seem to remember,” said he. “ Did he have a very
bright blue eye and a high color ?"
Mr. Byrd nodded.
“ And did he carry a peculiarly shaped bag, of which
he was very careful ?"
“ I don't know," said Mr. Byrd, but remembering the
model, added with quick assurance, “I have no doubt he
did ” ; which seemed to satisfy the other, for he at once
cried :
“I recollect such a person very well. I noticed him
before he got to the station; as soon in fact as he came
in sight. He was walking down the highway, and seemed
to be thinking about something. He 's.of the kind to
attract attention. What about him, sir ?"
“Nothing. He was in trouble of some kind, and he
went from home without saying where he was going ;
and his friends are anxious about him, that is all. Do
you think you could swear to his face if you saw it ?"
“I think I could. He was the only stranger that got
on to the cars that afternoon."
“ Do you remember, then, the day ?”
“ Well, no, now, I don't."
“ But ean't you, if you try? Was n't there something
done by you that day which will assist your memory ?"


204 HAND AND RING.
Again that slow “ Let me see" showed that the man
was pondering. Suddenly he slapped his thigh and ex-
claimed :
“You might be a lawyer's clerk now, might n't you;
or, perhaps, a lawyer himself? I do remember that a
large load of stone was sent off that day, and a minute's
It was Tuesday," he presently

look at my book
aflirmed.
Mr. Byrd drew a deep breath. There is sadness mixed
with the satisfaction of such a triumph.
“ I am much obliged to you," he said, in acknowledg-
ment of the other's trouble. “ The friends of this gentle-
man will now have little difficulty in tracing him. There
is but one thing further I should like to make sure of."
And taking from his memorandum.book the picture he
kept concealed there, he showed him the face of Mr.
Mansell, now altered to a perfect likeness, and asked him
if he recognized it.
The decided Yes which he received made further
questions unnecessary.
-~


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. . 205
XVI.
STORM.
Oh, my offence is rank, it smells to heav'n :'
It hath the primal eldest curse upon ‘t !-H.uvu.a'r.
ADAY had passed. Mr. Byrd, who no longer had
any reason to doubt that he was upon the trail of
the real assailant of the Widow Clemmens, had resolved
upon a third visit to the woods, this time with the
definite object of picking up any clew, however trifling,
in support of the fact that Craik Mansell had passed
through the glade behind his aunt's house.
The sky, when he left the hotel, was one vast field of
blue; but by the time he reached the terminus of the
car.route, and stepped out upon the road leading to the
woods, dark clouds had overcast the sun, and a cool
wind replaced the quiet zephyrs which had all day
fanned the brilliant autumn foliage.
He did not realize the condition of the atmosphere,
however, and proceeded on his way, thinking more of the
person he had just perceived issuing from the door.way of
Professor Darling's lofty mansion, than of the low mut-
terings of distant thunder that now and then disturbed
the silence of the woods, or of the ominous, brazen tint
which was slowly settling over the huge bank of cloud


206 1_.IAND AND RING.
that filled the northern sky. For that person was Miss
Dare, and her presence here, or anywhere near him, at
this time, must of necessity, awaken a most painful train
of thought.
But, though unmindful of the storm, he was dimly
conscious of the darkness that was settling about him.
Quicker and quicker grew his pace, and at last he almost
broke into a run as -the heavy pall of a large black cloud
swept up over the zenith, and wiped from the heavens
the last remnant of blue sky. One drop fell,’ then an-
other, then a slow, heavy patter, that bent double the ‘
leaves they fell upon, as if a shower of lead had
descended upon the heavily writhing forest. The wind
had risen, too, and the vast aisles of that'clear and
beautiful wood thundered with the swaying of boughs,
and the crash here and there of an old and falling limb.
But the lightning delayed.
The blindest or most abstracted man could be ignorant
no longer of what all this turmoil meant. Stopping in
the path along which he had been speeding, Mr. Byrd
glanced before him and behind, in a momentary calcu-
lation of distances, and deciding he could not regain the
terminus before the storm burst, pushed on toward the
hut.
He reached it just as the first flash of lightning darted
down through the heavy darkness, and was about to
fling himself against the door, when something—was it
the touch of an invisible hand, or the crash of awful.


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 207
thunder which at this instant plowed up the silence of
the forest and woke a pandemonium of echoes about his
head ?—stopped him.
He never knew. He only realized that he shuddered
and drew back, with a feeling of great disinclination to
enter the low building before him, alone ; and that pres-
ently taking advantage of another loud crash of falling
boughs, he crept around the corner of the hut, and satis-
fied his doubts by looking into the sinall, square window
opening to the west. '
He found there was ample reason for all the hesitation
he had felt. A man was sitting there, who, at the first
glimpse, appeared to him to be none other than Craik
Mansell. But reason soon assured him this could not be,
though the shape, the attitude—that old attitude of
despair which he remembered so well—was so startlingly
like that of the inan whose name was uppermost in his
thoughts, that he recoiled in spite of himself.
A second flash swept blinding through the wood. Mr.
Byrd advanced his head and took another glance at the
. stranger. It was Mr. Mansell. No other man would sit
so quiet and unmoved during the rush and clatter of a
terrible storm.
Look! not a hair of his head has stirred, not a move-
ment has taken place in the hands clasped so convuls-
ively beneath his brow. He is an image, a stone, and
would not hear though the roof fell in.
Mr. Byrd himself forgot the storm, and only queried


208 HAND AND RING.
what his duty was in this strange and surprising emer-
gency.
But before he could come to any definite conclusion,
he was subjected to a new sensation. A stir that was not
the result of the wind or the rain had taken place in the
forest before him. A something—he could not tell what
—was advancing upon him from the path he had himself
travelled so short a time before, and its step, if step it
were, shook him with a vague apprehension that made
him dread to lift his eyes. But he conquered the un-
manly instinct, and merely taking the precaution to step
somewhat further back from view, looked in the direction
of his fears, and saw a tall, firmly.built woman, whose
grandly poised head, held high, in defiance of the gale,
the lightning, and the rain, proclaimed her to be none
other than Imogene Dare.
It was a juxtaposition of mental, mo'ral, and physical
forces that almost took Mr. Byrd's breath away. He had
no doubt whom she had come to see, or to what sort of a
tryst he was about to be made an unwilling witness. But
he could not have moved if the blast then surging through
the trees had uprooted the huge pine behind which he
had involuntarily drawn at the first impression he had
received of her approach. He must watch that white
face of hers slowly evolve itself from the surrounding
darkness, and he must be present when the dreadful bolt
swept down from heaven, if only to see her eyes in the
flare of its ghostly flame.


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 209
It came while she was crossing the glade. Fierce,
blinding, more vivid and searching than at any time
before, it flashed down through the cringing boughs, and,
like a mantle of fire, enveloped her form, throwing out
its every outline, and making of the strong and beautiful
face an electric vision which Mr. Byrd was neverable to
forget.
A sudden swoop of wind followed, flinging her almost
to the ground, but Mr. Byrd knew from that moment that
neither wind nor lightning, not even the fear of death,
would stop this woman if once she was determined upon
any course.
Dreading the next few moments inexpressibly, yet
forcing himself, as a detective, to remain at his post,
though every instinct of his nature rebelled, Mr. Byrd
drew himself up against the side of the low hut and
listened. Her voice, rising between the mutterings of
thunder and the roar of the ceaseless gale, was plainly to
be heard.
“ Craik Mansell," said she, in a strained tone, that was
not without its severity, “you sent for me, and I am
here."
Ah, this was her mode of greeting, was it ? Mr. Byrd
felt his breath come easier, and listened for the reply
with intensest interest.
But it did not come. The low rumbling of the thunder
went on, and the wind howled through the gruesome
forest, but the man she had addressed did not speak.


2IO HAND AND RING.
“ Craik ! ” Her voice still came from the door.way,
where she had seemingly taken her stand. “ Do you not
hear me ? "
A stifled groan was the sole reply.
She appeared to take one step forward, but no more.
“I can understand," said she, and Mr. Byrd had no
difliculty in hearing her words, though the turmoil over~
head was almost deafening, “ why the restlessness of
despair should drive you into seeking this interview. I
have longed to see you too, if only to tell you that I wish
heaven's thunderbolts had fallen upon us both on that
day when we sat and talked of our future prospects
n
and
A lurid flash cut short her words. Strange and awe-
some sounds awoke in the air above, and the next moment ‘
a great branch fell crashing down upon the ..roof of the
hut, beating in one corner, and sliding thence heavily to
the ground,. where it lay with all its quivering’ leaves
uppermost, not two feet from the door.way where this
woman stood. .
A shriek like that of a lost spirit went up from her
lips.
“ I thought the vengeance of heaven had fallen ! " she
gasped. And fora moment not a sound was heard within
or without the hut, save that low flutter of the disturbed
leaves. “It is not to be,” she then whispered, with a
return of her old calmness, that was worse than any
shriek. “Murder is not to be avenged thus." Then,


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 2II
shortly: “A dark and hideous line of blood is drawn
between you and me, Craik Mansell. I cannot pass it,
and you must not, forever and forever and forever. But
that does not hinder me from wishing to help you, and so
I ask, in all sincerity, What is it you want me to do for
you to.day ?"
A response came this time.
“ Show me how to escape the consequences of my
act," were his words, uttered in a low and muffied voice.
She did not answer at once.
“ Are you threatened ?" she inquired at last, in a tone
that proved she had drawn one step nearer to the bowed
form and hidden face of the person she addressed.
“ My conscience threatens me," was the almost stifled
reply.
Again that heavy silence, all the more impressive that
the moments before had been so prolific of heaven's most
terrible noises.
7 “ You suffer because another man is forced to endure
suspicion for a crime he never committed," she whisper-
ingly exclaimed.
Only a groan answered her ; and the moments grew
heavier and heavier, more and more oppressive, though
the hitherto accompanying outcries of the forest had
ceased, and a faint lightening of the heavy darkness was
taking place overhead. Mr. Byrd felt the pressure of the
situation so powerfully, he drew near to the window he
had hitherto avoided, and looked in. She was standing a


212 HAND AND RING..
foot behind the crouched figure of the man, between
whom and herself she had avowed a line of blood to be
drawn. As he looked she spoke.
“ Craik," said she, and the deathless yearning of love
spoke in her voice at last, “there is but one thing to do.
Expiate your guilt by acknowledging it. Save the inno-
cent from unmerited suspicion, and trust to the mercy
of God. It is the only advice I can give you. I know
no other road to peace. If I did " She stopped,

-choked by the terror of her own thoughts. “ Craik," she
murmured, at last, “ on the day I hear of your having
made this confession, I vow to take an oath of celibacy
for life. It is the only recompense I can offer for the
misery and sin into which our mutual mad ambitions have
plunged you."
And subduing with a look of inexpressible anguish an
evident longing to lay her hand in final caress upon that
bended head, she gave him one parting look, and then,
with a quick shudder, hurried away, and buried herself
amid the darkness of the wet and shivering woods.


l" ' THE WEAVING oF A WEB. 213
XVII.
A SURPRISE.
Season your admiration for awhile.-I‘IAMI.n'r.
HEN all was still again, Mr. Byrd advanced from
his place of concealment, and softly entered
the hut. Its solitary occupant sat as before, with his
head bent down upon his clasped hands. But at the first
sound of Mr. Byrd's approach he rose and turned. The
shock of the discovery which followed sent the detective
reeling back against the door. The person who faced
him with such quiet assurance was not Craik Mansell.
i~j-.$+ N
.


214 HAND AND RING.
XVIII.
' A BRACE or DETECTIVES.
Hath this fellow no feeling of his business ?—l.l.\ur.n'r.
No action, whether foul or fair,
Is ever done, but it leaves somewhere .
A record. —Loucrau.ow.
" O there are two of us! I thought as much when
S I first set eyes upon your face in Buffalo ! "
This exclamation, uttered in a dry and musing tone,
woke Mr. Byrd from the stupor into which this astonish-
ing discovery had thrown him. Advancing upon the
stranger, who in size, shape, and coloring was almost the
fa:.simile of the person he had so successfully represented,
Mr. Byrd looked him scrutinizingly over.
The man bore the ordeal with equanimity; he even
smiled.
“ You don't recognize me, I see.”
Mr. Byrd at once recoiled.
“ Ah ! ” cried he, “you are that ]‘ack.in.the.box,
Brown ! "
“Alias Frank Hickory, at your service.”
This name, so unexpected, called up a flush of mingled
surprise and indignation to Mr. Byrd's cheek.
“ I thought " he began


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 215
“Don't think," interrupted the other, who, when
excited, affected laconicism, “ know." Then, with affa-
” he paid

bility, proceeded, “You are the gentleman
that much deference to Mr. Byrd's air and manner, “ who
I was told mightlend me a helping hand in this Clem-
mens affair. I did n't recognize you before, sir. Would n't
have stood in your way if I had. Though, to be sure,
I did want to see this matter through myself. I thought
I had the right. And I 've done it, too, as you must
acknowledge, if you have been present in this terrible
place very long."
This self.satisfied, if not boastful, allusion to a scenein
which this strange being had played so unworthy,.if not
unjustifiable, a part, sent a thrill of revulsion through Mr.
Byrd. Drawing hastily back with an instinct of dislike
he could not conceal, he cast a glance through the thicket
of trees that spread beyond the open door, and pointedly
asked:
“ Was there no way of satisfying yourself of the guilt of
Craik Mansell, except by enacting a farce that may lead
to the life.long remorse of the woman out of whose love
you have made a trap ? "
A slow flush, the first, possibly, that had visited the
hardy cheek of this thick.skinned detective for years,
crept over the face of Frank Hickory.
“ I don't mean she shall ever know," he sullenly pro-
tested, kicking at the block upon which he had been sit-
ting. “ But it was a mean trick," he frankly enough


216 HAND AND RING.
admitted the next moment. “If I had n't been the
tough old hickory knot that I am, I could n't have done
it, I suppose. The storm, too, made it seem abit trifling.
But
more cheerful tone, “ 't is too late now for tears and
repentance. The thing is done, and can't be undone.
And, at all events, I reckon we are both satisfied now as
to who killed Widow Clemmens ! "
Mr. Byrd could not resist a slight sarcasm. “ I thought

Well, well!” he suddenly interjected, in a
you were satisfied in that regard before ? ” said he. “ At
least, I understood that at a certain time you were very
positive it was Mr. Hildreth."
“ So I was," the fellow good.naturedly allowed ; “ soI
was. The byways of a crime like this are dreadful dark
and uncertain. It is n't strange that a fellow gets lost
sometimes. But I got a jog on my elbow that sent me
into the right path," said he, “as, perhaps, you did too,
sir, eh ?"
Not replying to this latter insinuation, Mr. Byrd
quietly repeated :
“You got a jog on your elbow? When, may I ask P "
“ Three days ago, just ./ " was the emphatic reply-
“And from whom ? "
Instead of replying, the man leaned back against the
wall of the hut and looked at hisinterlocutor in silence.
“ Are we going to join hands over this business?" he
cried, at last, “or are you thinking of pushing your way
on alone after you have got from me all that I know?"


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 217
The question took Mr. Byrd by surprise.
He had not thought of the future. He was as yet too
much disturbed by his memories of the past. To hide
his discomfiture, he began to pace the floor, an opera-
tion which his thoroughly wet condition certainly made
advisable.
“ I have no wish to rob you of any glory you may hope
to reap from the success of the plot you have carried on
here to.day," he presently declared, with some bitter-
ness; “ but if this Craik Mansell is guilty, I suppose it
is my duty to help you in the collection of all suitable
and proper evidence against him."
“ Then," said the other, who had been watching him
with rather an anxious eye, “let us to work." And, sit-
ting down on the table, he motioned to Mr. Byrd to take
a seat upon the block at his side.
But the latter kept up his walk.
Hickory surveyed him for a moment in silence, then he
said :
“ You must have something against this young man, or
you would n't be here. What is it? What first set yau
thinking about Craik Mansell ? "
Now, this was a question Mr. Byrd could not and
would not answer. After what had just passed in the
hut, he felt it impossible to mention to this man the name
of Imogene Dare in connection with that of the nephew
of Mrs. Clemmens. He therefore waived the other's
interrogation and remarked i.


218 HAND AND RING.
“ My knowledge was rather the fruit of surmise than
fact. I did not believe in the guilt of Gouverneur Hil-
dreth, and so was forced to look about me for some one
whom I could conscientiously suspect. I fixed upon this
unhappy man in Buffalo ; how truly, your own suspicions,
unfortunately, reveal."
“And I had to have my wits started by a horrid old
woman," murmured the evidently abashed Hickory.
“ Horrid old woman ! ” repeated Mr. Byrd. “ Not
Sally Perkins ? ”
“Yes. ‘ A sweet one, is n't she ?"
Mr. Byrd shuddered.
“Tell me about it," said he, coming and sitting down
in the seat the other had previously indicated to him.
“ I will, sir; I will : but first let 's look at the weather.
Some folks would think it just as well for you to change
that toggery of yours. What do you say to going home-
first, and talking afterward ? "
“I suppose it would be wise," admitted Mr. Byrd,
looking down at his garments, whose decidedly damp
condition he had scarcely noticed in his excitement.
“And yet I hate to leave this spot till I learn how you
came to choose it as the scene of the tragi.comedy you
have enacted here to.day, and what position it is likely
to occupy in the testimony which you have collected
against this young man."
“Wait, then," said the bustling fellow, “till I build you
the least bit of a fire to warm you. It won't take but a


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 2I9


minute," he averred, piling together some old sticks that
cumbered the hearth, and straightway setting a match to
them. “ See! is n't that pleasant? And now, just cast
your eye at this ! " he continued, drawing a comfortable-
looking flask out of his pocket and handing it over to
the other with a dry laugh. “ Is n't I/21': pleasant?" And
he threw himself down on the floor and stretched out his
hands -to the blaze, with a gusto which the dreary hour
he had undoubtedly passed made perfectly natural, if not
excusable.
“I thank you," said Mr. Byrd; “ I did n't know I was
so chilled," and he, too, enjoyed the warmth. “And,
now," he pursued, after a moment, “go on ; let us have
the thing out at once."
But the other was in no hurry. “Very good, sir," he
cried; “ but, first, if you don't mind, suppose you tell me
what brought you to this hut to.day ?"
“ I was on the look.out for clues. In my study of the
situation, I decided that the murderer of Mrs. Clemmens
escaped, not from the front, but from the back, of the
house. Taking the path I imagined him to have trod, I
came upon this hut. It naturally attracted my attention,
and to.day I came back to examine it more closely in the
hope of picking up some signs of his having been here,
or at least of having passed through the glade on his
way to the deeper woods."
“ And what, if you had succeeded in this, sir? What,
if some token of his presence had rewarded your search?"


220 HAND AND RING.
“I should have completed a chain of proof of which
only this one link is lacking. I could have shown how
Craik Mansell fled from this place on last Tuesday after-
noon, making his way through the woods to the highway,
and thence to the Quarry Station at Monteith, where he
took the train which carried him back to Buffalo."
“ You could !—show me how ? "
Mr. Byrd explained himself more definitely.
Hickory at once rose.
“ I guess we can give you the link," he dryly remarked.
“At all events, suppose you just step here and tell me
what conclusion you draw from the appearance of this
pile of brush."
Mr. Byrd advanced and looked at a small heap of
hemlock that lay in a compact mass in one-corner.
“I have not disturbed it," pursued the other. “It is
just as it was when I found it."
“ Looks like a pillow," declared Mr. Byrd. “ Has
been used for such, I am sure; for see, the dust in this
portion of the floor lies lighter than elsewhere. You can
almost detect the outline of a man's recumbent form," he
went on, slowly, leaning down to examine the floor more
closely. .“ As for the boughs, they have been cut from
the tree with a knife, and -——
Lifting up a sprig, he
looked at it, then passed it over to Hickory, with a
meaning glance that directed attention to one or two
short hairs of a dark brown color, that were caught in
the rough bark. “ He did not even throw his pocket-


THE \/VEAVING OF A WEB. 22I
handkerchief over the heap before lying down," he
observed.
Mr. Hickory smiled. “ You ‘re up in your business, I
see." And drawing his new colleague to the table, he
asked him what he saw there.
At first sight Mr. Byrd exclaimed: “Nothing," but in
another moment he picked up an infinitesmal chip from
between the rough logs that formed the top of this some-
what rustic piece of furniture, and turning it over in his
hand, pronounced it to be a piece of wood from a lead-
pencil.
“Here are several of them," remarked Mr. Hickory,
“and what is more, it is easy to tell just the color
of the pencil from which they were cut. It was blue."
“ That is so," assented Mr. Byrd.
“Quarry.men, charcoal.burners, and the like are not
much in the habit of sharpening pencils," suggested
Hickory.
“ Is the pencil now to be found in the pocket of Mr.
Mansell a blue one?"
“ It is."
“ Have you any thing more to show me ? " asked Mr.
Byrd.
“Only this," responded the other, taking out of his
pocket the torn.off corner of a newspaper. “I found
this blowing about under the bushes out there," said he.
“ Look at it and tell me from what paper it was torn."
“I don't know,” said Mr. Byrd; “none that I am
acquainted with."


222 HAND AND RING.
“You don't read the Buffalo Courier? "
“ Oh, is this "
“ A corner from the Buffalo Courier? I don't know,
but I mean to find out. If it is, and the date proves to
be correct, we won't have much trouble about the little

link, will we?"
Mr. Byrd shook his head and they again crouched
down over the fire. .
“And, now, what did you learn in Buffalo ? " inquired
the persistent Hickory.
“Not much," acknowledged Mr. Byrd. “The man
Brown was entirely too ubiquitous to give me my full
chance. Neither at the house nor at the mill was I able
to glean any thing beyond an admission from the land-
' lady that Mr. Mansell was not at home at the time of his
aunt's murder. I could n't even learn where he was on
that day, or where he had ostensibly gone? If it had
not been for the little girl of Mr. Goodman "
“ Ah, I had not time to go to that house," interjected

the other, suggestively.
“I should have come home'as wise as I went," con-
tinued Mr. Byrd. “ She told me that on the day before
Mr. Mansell returned, he wrote to her father from Mon-
teith, and t/‘ml settled my mind in regard to him. It was
pure luck, however."
The other laughed long and loud.
“I did n't know I did it up so well," he cried. “ I
told the landlady you were a detective, or acted like one,


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 223
and she was very ready to take the alarm, having, as I
judge, a motherly liking for her young boarder. Then I
took Messrs. Chamberlin and Harrison into my confi-
dence, and having got from them all the information
they could give me, told them there was evidently
another man on the track of this Mansell, and warned
them to keep silence till they heard from the prosecuting
attorney in Sibley. But I did n't know who you were, or,
at least, I was n't sure ; or, as I said before, I should n't
have presumed."
The short, dry laugh with which he ended this expla-
nation had not ceased, when Mr. Byrd observed :
“ You have not told me what you gathered in Buffalo."
“Much," quoth Hickory, reverting to his favorite
laconic mode of speech. “First, that Mansell went
from home on Monday, the day before the murder, for
the purpose, as he said, of seeing a man in New York
about his wonderful invention. Secondly, that he never
went to New York, but came back the next evening,
bringing his model with him, and looking terribly used
up and worried. Thirdly, that to get this invention
before the public had been his pet aim and effort for a
--whole year. That he believed in it as you do in your
Bible, and would have given his heart's blood, if it would
have done any good, to start the thing, and prove him-
self right in his estimate of its value. That the money to
do this was all that was lacking, no one believing in him
sufliciently to advance him the five thousand dollars con-


224 HAND AND RING.
sidered necessary to build the machine and get it in work-
ing order. That, in short, he was a fanatic on the sub-
ject, and often said he would be willing to die within the
year if he could first prove to the unbelieving capitalists
whom he had vainly importuned for assistance, the worth
of the discovery he believed himself to have made.
Fourthly—but what is it you wish to say, sir ? ”
Five thousand dollars is just the amount Widow Clem-
mens is supposed to leave him," remarked Mr. Byrd.
“ Precisely," was the short reply.
“ And fourthly ? " suggested the former.
“ Fourthly, he was in the mill on Wednesday morning,
where he went about his work as usual, until some one
who knew his relation to Mrs. Clemmens looked up from the
paper he was reading, and, in pure thoughtlessness, cried,
“ So they have killed your aunt for you, have they ? ". A
barbarous jest, that caused everybody near him to start in
indignation, but which made him recoil as if one of these
thunderbolts we have been listening to this afternoon had
fallen at his feet. And he did n't get over it," Hickory
went on. "‘ He had to beg permission to go home. He
said the terrible news had .made him ill, and indeed he
looked sick enough, and continued to look sick enough
for days. He had letters from Sibley, and an invitation
to attend the inquest and be present at the funeral
‘ services, but he refused to go. He was threatened with
diphtheria, he declared, and remained away from the mill
until the day before yesterday. Some one, I don't


THE WEAVING or A WEB. 225
remember who, says he went out of town the very Wed-
nesday he first heard the news; but if so, he could
not have been gone long, for he was at home Wednesday
night, sick in bed, and threatened, as I have said, with
the diphtheria. Fifthly "
“ Well, fifthly ? "
“I am afraid of your criticisms," laughed the rough
detective. “ Fifthly is the result of my poking about

among Mr. Mansell's traps."
“Ah I " frowned the other, with a vivid remembrance
of that picture of Miss Dare, with its beauty blotted out
by the ominous black lines.
“You are too squeamish for a detective," the other
declared. “ Guess you 're kept for the fancy business,
eh ?"
The look Mr. Byrd gave him was eloquent. “ Go on,"
said he ; “ let us hear what lies behind your fifthly."
“ Love," returned the man. “Locked in the drawer of
this young gentleman's table, I found some half.dozen
letters tied with a black ribbon. I knew they were
written by a lady, but squeamishness is not a fault
of mine, and so I just allowed myself to glance over them.
They were from Miss Dare, of course, and they revealed
the fact that love, as well as ambition, had been a motive
power in determining this Mansell to make a suc-
cess out of his invention."
Leaning back, the now self.satisfied detective looked
at Mr. Byrd.


226 HAND AND RING.
“ The name of Miss Dare," he went on, “brings me to
the point from which we started. “I have n't yet told
you what old Sally Perkins had to say to me."
“ No," rejoined Mr. Byrd.
“Well," continued the other, poking with his foot the
dying embers of the fire, till it started up into a fresh
blaze, “the case against this young fellow would n't be
worth very much without that old crone's testimony,
I reckon ; but with it I guess we can get along."
“ Let us hear,” said Mr. Byrd.
“ The old woman is a wretch," Hickory suddenly
broke out. “ She seems to gloat over the fact that
a young and beautiful woman is in trouble. She actually
trembled with eagerness as she told her story. If I
had n't been rather anxious myself to hear what she had
to say, I could have thrown her out of the window.
As it was, I let her go on ; duty before pleasure, you see
—duty before pleasure."
“ But her story," persisted Mr. Byrd, letting some
of his secret irritation betray itself. .
“ Well, her story was this : Monday afternoon, the day
before the murder, you know, she was up in these very
woods hunting for witch-hazel. She had got her arms
full and was going home across the bog when she sudden-
ly heard voices. Being of a curious disposition, like my-
self, I suppose, she stopped, and seeing just before her
ayoung gentleman and lady sitting on an old stump,
crouched down in the shadow of a tree, with the harm-


THE WEAVING OF A WEB.' 227
less intent, no doubt, of amusing herself with their con-
versation. It. was more interesting than she expected,
and she really became quite tragic as she related her
story to me. I cannot do justice to it myself, and I
sha'n't try. It is enough that the man whom she did
not know, and the woman whom she immediately recog-
nized as Miss Dare, were both in a state of great indigna-
tion. That he spoke of selfishness and obstancy on
the part of his aunt, and that she, in the place of rebuking
him, replied in a way to increase his bitterness, and lead
him finally to exclaim: ‘ I cannot bear it ! To think that
with just the advance of the very sum she proposes to
give me some day, I could make her fortune and my own,
and win you all in one breath! It.is enough to drive a
man mad to see all that he craves in this world so near
his grasp, and yet have nothing, not even hope, to com-
fort him.' And at that, it seems, they both rose, and she,
who had not answered any thing to this, struck the tree
before which they stood, with her bare fist, and murmured
a word or so which the old woman could n't catch, but
which was evidently something to the effect that she
wished she knew Mrs. Clemmens ; for Mansell—of
course it was he—said, in almost the same breath, ‘ And
if you did know her, what then ?' A question which
elicited no reply at first, but which finally led her to say:
' Oh ! I think that, possibly, I might be able to persuade
her.' All this," the detective went on, “ old Sally rela-
ted with the greatest force; but in regard to what fol-


228 HAND AND RING.
lowed, she was not so clear. Probably they interrupted
their conversation with some lovers' by.play, for they
stood very near together, and he seemed to be earnestly
pleading with her. ‘Do take it,' old Sally-heard him
say. ‘I shall feel as if life held some outlook for
me, if you only will gratify me in this respect.' But
she answered: ‘No; it is of no use. I am as
ambitious as you are, and fate is evidently against
us,' and put his hand back when he endeavored to take
hers, but finally yielded so far as to give it to him for a
moment, though she immediately snatched it away again,
crying: ‘I cannot; you must wait till to.morrow.' And
when he asked: ‘Why to.morrow?' she answered: ‘A
- - night has been known to change the whole current of a
person's affairs.' To which he replied: ‘True,' and
looked thoughtful, very thoughtful, as he met her eyes
and saw her raise that white hand of hers and strike the
tree again with a passionate force that made her fingers
bleed. And she was right," concluded the speaker.
“The night, or if not the night, the next twenty.four
hours, did make a change, as even old Sally Perkins
observed. Widow Clemmens was struck down and Craik
Mansell became the possessor of the five thousand dollars
he so much wanted in order to win for himself a fortune
and a bride."
Mr. Byrd, who had been sitting with his face turned
aside during this long recital, slowly rose to his feet.
“Hickory," said he, and his tone had an edge of sup-


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 229
pressed feeling in it that made the other start, “don't
let me ever hear you say, in my presence, that you think
this young and beautiful woman was the one to suggest
murder to this man, for I won't hear it. And now," he
continued, more calmly, “tell me why this babbling old
wretch did not enliven the inquest with her wonderful
tale. It would have been a fine offset to the testimony
of Miss Firman."
“Slie said she was n't fond of coroners and had no
wish to draw the attention of twelve of her own townsfolk
upon herself. She did n't mean to commit herself with
me," pursued Hickory, rising also. “She was going to
give me a hint of the real state of affairs ; or, rather, set
me working in the right direction, as this little note which
she tucked under the door of my room at the hotel will
show. But I was too quick for her, and had her by the
arm before she could shuffle down the stairs. It was
partly to prove her story was true and not a romance
made up for the occasion, that I lured this woman here
this afternoon."
“ You are not as bad a fellow as I thought," Mr. Byrd
admitted, after a momentary contemplation of the
other's face. “ If I might only know how you managed
to effect this interview."
“Nothing easier. I found in looking over the scraps
of paper which Mansell had thrown into the waste.paper
basket in Buffalo, the draft of a note which he had writ-
ten to Miss Dare, under an impulse which he afterward


.. _ ,..-...,-_.
230 HAND AND RING.
probably regretted. It was a summons to their usual
place of tryst at or near this hut, and though unsigned,
was of a character, as I thought, to effect its purpose. I
just sent it to her, that 's all."
The nonchalance with which this was said completed
Mr. Byrd's astonishment.
“ You are aworthy disciple of Gryce," he asserted, lead-
ing the way to the door.
“Think so ?" exclaimed the man, evidently flattered
at what he considered a great compliment. “Then shake
hands," he cried, with a frank appeal Mr. Byrd found it
hard to resist. “Ah, you don't want to," he somewhat
ruefully declared. “ Will it change your feelings any if I
promise to ignore what happened here to.day—my trick
with Miss Dare and what she revealed and all that ? If
it will, I swear I won't even think of it any more if I can
help it. At all events, I won't tattle about it even to the
superintendent. It shall be a secret between you and me,
and she won't know but what it was her lover she talked
to, after all."
“ You are willing to do all this?" inquired Mr. Byrd.
“Willing and ready," cried the man. “I believe in
duty to one's superiors, but duty does n't always demand
of one to tell every’ thing he knows. Besides, it won't be
necessary, I imagine. There is enough against this poor
fellow without that."
“ I fear so," ejaculated Mr. Byrd.
“ Then it is a bargain ?" said Hickory.
If .
|l'


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 231
“ Yes." .
And Mr. Byrd held out his hand.
The rain had now ceased and they prepared to return
home. Before leaving the glade, however, Mr. Byrd ran
his eye over the other's person and apparel, and in some
wonder inquired :
“ How do you fellows ever manage to get up such com-
plete disguises ? I declare you look enough like Mr.
Mansell in the back to make me doubt even now who I
am talking to."
“Oh,” laughed the other, “ it is easy enough. It 's my
specialty, you see, and one in which I am thought to
excel. But, to tell the truth, I had n't much to contend
with in this case. In build I am famously like this man,
as you must have noticed when you saw us together in
Buffalo. Indeed, it was oursimilarity in this respect that
first put the idea of personifying him into my head. My
complexion had been darkened already, and, as for such
accessories as hair, voice, manner, dress, etc., a five.min-
utes' study of my model was sufficient to prime me up in
all that—enough, at least, to satisfy the conditions of an
interview which did not require me to show my face."
“ But you did not know when you came here that yoii
would not have to show your face," persisted Mr. Byrd,
anxious to understand how this man dared risk his repu-
tation on an undertaking of this kind.
“ No, and I did not know that the biggest thunderstorm
of the season was going to spring up and lend me its dark-


.232 HAND AND RING.
ness to complete the illusion I had attempted. I only
trusted my good fortune—and my wits," he added, with a.
droll demureness. “Both had served me before, and
both were likely to serve me again. And, say she had
detected me in my little game, what then? Women like
her don't babble."
There was no reply to make to this, and Mr. Byrd's
thoughts being thus carried back to Imogene Dare and the
unhappy revelations she had been led to make, he walked
on in a dreary silence his companion had suflicient dis-
cretion not to break.


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 233
XIX.
MR. FERRIS.
-Which of you have done this P-Mxcarmr.
What have we here ?—'I‘s1vu>s.s'r.
R. FERRIS sat in his office in a somewhat
M gloomy frame of mind. There had been.bad
news from the jail that morning. Mr. Hildreth had
attempted suicide the night before, and was now lying in
a critical condition at the hospital.
Mr. Ferris himself had never doubted this man's guilt. -
_
From Hildreth's first appearance at the inquest, the
District Attorney had fixed upon him as the murderer of
Mrs. Clemmens, and up to this time he had seen no good
and substantial reason for altering his opinion.
Even the doubts expressed by Mr. Byrd had moved
him but little. Mr. Byrd was an enthusiast, and, naturally
enough, shrank from believing a gentleman capable of
such a crime. But the other detective's judgment was un-
swayed, and he considered Hildreth guilty. It was not
astonishing, then, that the opinion of Mr. Ferris should
coincide with that of the older and more experienced
man.
But the depth of despair or remorse which had led Mr.
Hildreth to this desperate attempt upon his own life had


234 HAND AND RING.
struck the District Attorney with dismay. Though not
over.sensitive by nature, he could not help feeling sym-
pathy for the misery that had prompted such a deed, and
while secretly regarding this unsuccessful attempt at
suicide as an additional proof of guilt, he could not for-
bear satisfying himself by a review of the evidence elicit-
ed at the inquest, that the action of the authorities in
arresting this man had been both warrantable and neces-
sary.
The result was satisfactory in all but one point. When
he came to the widow's written accusation against one by
the name of Gouverneur Hildreth, he was impressed by a
fact that had hitherto escaped his notice. This was the
yellowness of the paper upon which the words were
written. If they had been transcribed a dozen years be-
fore, they would not have looked older, nor would the
ink have presented a more faded appearance. Now, as
the suspected man was under twenty.five years of age,
and must, therefore, have been a mere child when the
paper was drawn up, the probability was that the Gouver-
neur intended was the prisoner's father, their names being
identical.
But this discovery, while it robbed the affair of its most
dramatic feature, could not affect in any serious way the
extreme significance of the remaining real and compro-
mising facts which told so heavily against this unfortunate
man. Indeed, the well.known baseness of the father
made it easier to distrust the son, and Mr. Ferris had


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 235
~N. _-.1-r:-.’_W~
just come to the conclusion that his duty compelled him
to draw up an indictment of the would.be suicide, when
the door opened, and Mr. Byrd and Mr. Hickory came in.
To see these two men in conjunction was a surprise to
the District Attorney.
express himself on the subject, for Mr. Byrd, stepping
He, however, had no time to
forward, immediately remarked :
“Mr. Hickory and I have been in consultation, sir;
and we have a few facts to give you that we think will
alter your opinion as to the person who murdered Mrs.
Clemmens."
“Is this so?" cried Mr. Ferrris, looking at Hickory
with a glance indicative of doubt.
“Yes, sir," exclaimed that not easily abashed individ-
ual, with an emphasis decided enough to show the state
of his feelings on the subject. “After I last saw you a
woman came in my way and put into my hands so fresh
and promising a clue, that I dropped the old scent at
once and made instanter for the new game. But I soon
found I was not the only sportsman on this trail. Before
I had taken a dozen steps I ran upon this gentleman, and,
finding him true grit, struck up a partnership with him
that has led to our bringing down the quarry together."
“ Humph ! ''' quoth the District Attorney. “Some very
remarkable discoveries must have come to light to influ-
ence the judgment of two such men as yourselves."
“You are right," rejoined Mr. Byrd. “ In fact, I
should not be surprised if this case proved to be one of


2 36 HAND AND RING.
the most remarkable on record. It is not often that
equally convincing evidence of guilt is found against two
men having no apparent connection."
“And have you collected such evidence? "
“We have."
“ And who is the person you consider equally open to
suspicion with Mr. Hildreth ?”
“ Craik Mansell, Mrs. Clemmens‘ nephew."
The surprise of the District.Attorney was, as Mr.
Hickory in later days remarked, nuts to him. The solemn
nature of the business he was engaged upon never dis-
turbed this hardy detective's sense of the ludicrous, and
he indulged in one of his deepest chuckles as he met the
eye of Mr. Ferris.
“ One never knows what they are going to run upon in
a chase of this kind, do they, sir?” he remarked, with the
greatest cheerfulness. “ Mr. Mansell is no more of a
gentleman than Mr. Hildreth ; yet, because he is the
second one of his caste who has attracted our attention,
you are naturally very much surprised. But wait till. you
hear what we have to tell you. I am confident you will
be satisfied with our reasons for suspecting this new
party." And he glanced at Mr. Byrd, who, seeing no
cause for delay, proceeded to unfold before the District
Attorney the evidence they had collected against Mr.
Mansell.
It was strong, telling, and seemingly conclusive, as we
already know ; and awoke in the mind of Mr. Ferris the


THE WEAVING oF A WEB. 237
greatest perplexity of his life. It was not simply that the
facts urged against Mr. Mansell were of the same circum-
stantial character and of almost the same significance as
those already urged against Mr. Hildreth, but that the
association of Miss Dare's name with this new theory of
suspicion presented difficulties, if it did not involve con-
sequences, calculated to make any friend of Mr. Orcutt
quail. And Mr. Ferris was such a friend, and knew very
.well the violent nature of the shock which this eminent
lawyer would experience at discovering the relations held
by this trusted woman toward a man suspected of crime.
Then Miss Dare herself ! Was this beautiful and
cherished woman, hitherto believed by all who knew her
to be set high above the reach of reproach, to be dragged
down from her pedestal and submitted to the curiosity of
the rabble, if not to its insinuations and reproach? It
seemed hard ; even to this stern, dry searcher among
dead men's bones, it seemed both hard and bitter. And
yet, because he was an honest man, he had no thought of
paltering with his duty. He could only take time to
make sure what that duty was. He accordingly refrained
from expressing any opinion in regard to Mr. Mansell's
culpability to the two detectives, and finally dismissed
them without any special orders.
But a day or two after this he sent for them again, and
said :
“Since I have seen you I have considered, with due
carefulness, the various facts presented me in support of


238 HAND AND RING.
your belief that Craik Mansell is the man who assailed
the Widow Clemmens, and have weighed them against the
equally significant facts pointing toward Mr. Hildreth as
the guilty party, and find but one link lacking in the
former chain of evidence which is not lacking in the lat-
ter ; and that is this : Mrs. Clemmens, in the one or two
lucid moments which returned to her after the assault,
gave utterance to an exclamation which many think was
meant to serve as a guide in determining the person of
her murderer. She said, ‘ Ring,' as Mr. Byrd here will
doubtless remember, and .then ‘ Hand,' as if she wished to
fix upon the minds of those about her that the hand
uplifted against her wore a ring. At all events, such a
conclusion is plausible enough, and led to my making an
experiment yesterday, which has, for ever, set the matter
at rest in my own mind. I took my stand at the huge
clock in her house, just in the attitude she was supposed
to occupy when struck, and, while in this position, ordered
my clerk to advance upon me from behind with his hands
clasped about a stick of wood, which he was to bring
down within an inch of my head. This was done, and
while his arm was in the act of descending, I looked to
see if by a quick glance from the corner of my eye I
could detect the broad seal ring I had previously pushed
upon his little finger. I discovered that I could; that
indeed it was all of the man which I could distinctly see
without turning my head completely around. The ring,
then, is an important feature in this case, a link without


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 239
which any chain of evidence forged for the express pur-
pose of connecting a man with this murder must neces-
sarily remain incomplete and consequently useless. But
amongst the suspicious circumstances brought to bear
against Mr. Mansell, I discern no token of a connection
between him and any such article, while we all know that
Mr.Hi1dreth not only wore aring on the day of the
murder, but considered the circumstance so much in his
own disfavor, that he slipped it off his finger wh.en he
began to see the shadow of suspicion falling upon him.”
“You have, then, forgotten the diamond I picked up
from the floor of Mrs. Clemmens' dining.room on the
morning of the murder ? ” suggested Mr. Byrd with great
reluctance. -
.
“ No," answered the District Attorney, shortly. “ But
Miss Dare distinctly avowed that ring to be hers, and
you have brought me no evidence as yet to prove her
statement false. If you can supply such proof, or if you
can show that Mr. Mansell had that ring on his hand
when he entered Mrs. Clemmens' house on the fatal
morning—another fact, which, by.the.way, rests as yet
upon inference only—I shall consider the case against
him as strong as that against Mr. Hildreth; otherwise,
I)
11012.
Mr. Byrd, with the vivid remembrance before him
of Miss Dare's looks and actions in the scene he had
witnessed between her and’ the supposed Mansell.in the
hut, smiled with secret bitterness over this attempt of


240 HAND AND RING.
the District Attorney to shut his eyes to the evident
guiltiness of this man.
Mr. Ferris saw this smile and instantly became irri-
tated.
“ I do not doubt any more than yourself," he resumed,
in a changed voice, “that this young man allowed his
mind to dwell upon the possible advantages which might
accrue to himself if his aunt should die. He may even
have gone so far as to meditate the commission of a crime
to insure these advantages. But whether the crime which
did indeed take place the next day in his aunt's house
was the result of his meditations, or whether he found his
own purpose forestalled by an attack made by another
person possessing no less interest than himself in seeing
this woman dead, is not determined by the evidence you
bring."
“Then you do not favor his arrest?" inquired Mr.
Byrd.
“ No. The vigorous measures which were taken in
Mr. Hildreth's case, and the unfortunate event to which
they have led, are terrible enough to satisfy the public
craving after excitement for a week at least. I am not
fond of driving men to madness myself, and unless I can
be made to see that my duty demands a complete trans-
feral of my suspicions from Hildreth to Mansell, I can
advise nothing more than a close but secret surveillance
of the latter's movements until the action of the Grand
Jury determines whether the evidence against Mr.
Hildreth is suflicient to hold him for trial.


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 241
Mr. Byrd, who had such solid, if private and uncom-
municable, reasons for believing in the guilt of Craik
Mansell, was somewhat taken aback at this unlooked.for
decision of Mr. Ferris, and, remembering the temptation
which a man like Hickorymust feel to make his cause
good at all hazards, cast a sharp look toward that blunt-
spoken detective, in some doubt as to whether he could
be relied upon to keep his promise in the face of this
manifest disappointment.
But Hickory had given his word, and Hickory remain-
ed firm ; and Mr. Byrd, somewhat relieved in his own
mind, was about to utter his acquiescence in the District
Attorney's views, when a momentary interruption
occurred, which gave him an opportunity to exchange
a few words aside with his colleague.
“ Hickory," he whispered, “what do you think of this
objection which Mr. Ferris makes ? "
“I?" was the hurried reply. “Oh, I think there is
something in it."
“ Something in it ?”
“Yes. Mr. Mansell is the last man to wear a ring,
I must acknowledge. Indeed, I took some pains while in
Buffalo to find out if he ever indulged in any such vanity,
and was told decidedly No. As to the diamond you
mentioned, that is certainly entirely too rich a jewel for a
man like him to possess. I—I am a afraid the ab-
sence of this link in our chain of evidence is fatal.
I should n't wonder if the old scent was the best,
after all."


242 HAND AND RING
“ But Miss Dare—her feelings and her convictions, as
manifested by the words she made use of in the hut?”
objected Mr. Byrd.
“ Oh ! size thinks he is guilty, of course !
Size thinks! Mr. Byrd stared at his companion for a
minute in silence. Size thinks ! Then there was a pos-
sibility, it seems, that it was only her thought, and that
Mr. Mansell was not really the culpable man he had been
brought to consider him.
But here an exclafnation, uttered by Mr. Ferris, called
their attention back to that gentleman. He was reading
a letter which had evidently been just brought in, and his
expression was one of amazement, mixed with doubt. As
they looked toward him they met his eye, that had a
troubled and somewhat abashed expression, which con-
vinced them that the communication he held in his hand
was in some way connected with the matter under consid-
eration.
Surprised themselves, they unconsciously started for-
ward, when, in a dry and not altogether pleased tone, the
District Attorney observed :
“This affair seems to be full of coincidences. You
talk of a missing link, and it is immediately thrust under
your nose. Read that ! "
And he pushed toward them the following epistle,
roughly scrawled on a sheet of common writing.paper :
If Mr. Ferris is anxious for justice, and can believe that suspi-
cion does not always attach itself to the guilty, let him, or some one


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 243
whose business it is, inquire or Miss Imogene Dare, of this town, how
she came to claim as her own the ring that was picked up on the floor
of Mrs. Clemmens' house.
“ Well ! " cried Mr. Byrd, glancing at Hickory, “ what
are we to think of this ? "
“ Looks like the work of old Sally Perkins," observed
the other, pointing out the lack of date and signature.
“ So it does," acquiesced Mr. Byrd, in a relieved tone.
“The miserable old wretch is growing impatient."
But Mr. Ferris. with a gloomy frown, shortly said :
“ The.language is not that of an ignorant old creature
like Sally Perkins, whatever the writing may be. Besides,
how could she have known about the ring ? The persons
who were present at the time it was picked up are not of
the gossiping order."
“ Who, then, do you think wrote this?” inquired Mr.
Byrd.
“That is what I wish you to find out," declared the
District Attorney. '
Mr. Hickory at once took it in his hand.
“Wait," said he, “I have an idea." And he carried
the letter to one side, where he stood examining it for
several minutes. When he came back he looked tolerably
excited and somewhat pleased. “ I believe I can tell you
who wrote it," said he.
“Who ?" inquired the District Attorney.
For reply the detective placed his finger upon a name
that was written in the letter.
“ii 1.-


244 HAND AND RING.
“Imogene Dare ? ” exclaimed Mr. Ferris, astonished.
“ She herself," proclaimed the self.satisfied detective.
“ What makes you think that?" the District Attorney
slowly asked.
“Because I have seen her writing, and studied her sig-
nature, and, ably as she has disguised her hand in the
rest of the letter, it betrays itself in her name. See here."
And Hickory took from his pocket.book a small slip of '
paper containing her autograph, and submitted it to the
test of comparison.
The similarity between the two signatures was evident,
and both Mr. Byrd and Mr. Ferris were obliged to allow
the detective might be right, though the admission opened
up suggestions of the most formidable character.
“It is a turn for which I am not prepared," declared
the District Attorney.
“ It is a turn for which we are not prepared," repeated
Mr. Byrd, with a controlling look at Hickory.
“ Let us, then, defer further consideration of the matter
till I have had an opportunity to see Miss Dare," sug-
gested Mr. Ferris.
And the two detectives were very glad to acquiesce in
. this, for they were as much astonished as he at this action
of Miss Dare, though, with their better knowledge of her
feelings, they found it comparatively easy to understand
how her remorse and the great anxiety she doubtless felt
for Mr. Hildreth had sufliced to drive her to such an
extreme and desperate measure.


THE WEAVING OF A WEB.
XX.
A CRISIS.
Queen. Alas, how is it with you?
That you do bend your eye on- vacancy,
And with the incorporeal air do hold discourse?
u -r -r in at
Your bedded hair, like life in excrements,
Starts up and stands on end.
-I -u r -u 0
Whereon do you look P
Hamid. On him ! On him I Look you how pale he glaresl
His form and cause conjoined, preaching to stones,
Would make them capable. Do notlook upon me;
Lest, with this piteous action, you convert
My stern efiects l then what I have to do
Will want true color ; tears, perchance, for bl00d.—HAMLIT
HAT my readers may understand even better than
T Byrd and Hickory how it was that Imogene came
to write this letter, I must ask them to consider certain
incidents that had occurred in a quarter far removed
from the eye of the detectives.
Mr. Orcutt's mind had never been at rest concerning
the peculiar attitude assumed by Imogene Dare at the
time of Mrs.' Clemmens' murder. Time and thought had
not made it any more possible for him to believe now
than then that she knew any thing of the matter beyond
what appeared to the general eye: but he could not
forget the ring. It haunted him. Fifty times a day he
asked himself what she had meant by claiming as her own


246 HAND AND RING.
a jewel which had been picked up from the floor of a
strange house at a time so dreadful, and which, in despite
of her explanations to him, he found it impossible to
believe was hers or ever could have been hers ? He was
even tempted to ask her ; but he never did. The words
would not come. Though they faltered again and again
upon his lips, he could not give utterance to them ; no,
though with every passing day he felt that the bond unit-
ing her to him was growing weaker and weaker, and that
if something did not soon intervene to establish confi-
dence between them, he would presently lose all hope
of the treasure for the possession of which he was now
ready to barter away half the remaining years of his life.
Her increasing reticence, and the almost stony look of
misery that now confronted him without let or hindrance
from her wide gray eyes, were not calculated to reassure
him or make his future prospects look any brighter. Her
pain, if pain it were, or remorse, if remorse it could be,
was not of a kind to feel the influence of time; and,
struck with dismay, alarmed in spite of himself, if not for
her reason at least for his own, he watched her from day
to day, feeling that now he would give his life not merely
to possess her, but to understand her and the secret that
was gnawing at her heart.
At last there came a day when he could no longer
restrain himself. She had been seated in his presence,
and had been handed a letter which for the moment
seemed to thoroughly overwhelm her. We know what


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 24.7
that letter was. It was the note which had been sent as
a decoy by the detective Hickory, but which she had no
reason to doubt was a real communication from Craik
Mansell, despite the strange handwriting on the envelope.
It prayed her for an interview. It set the time and men-
tioned the place of meeting, and created for the instant
such a turmoil in her usually steady brain that she could
not hide it from the searching eyes that watched her.
“ What is it, Imogene?" inquired Mr. Orcutt, drawing
near her with a gesture of such uncontrollable anxiety, it
looked as if he were about to snatch the letter from her
hand.
For reply she rose, walked to the grate, in which a low
wood fire was burning, and plunged the paper in among
the coals. When it was all consumed she turned and
faced Mr. Orcutt.
“You must excuse me," she murmured; “but the-
- letter was one which I absolutely desired no one to see."
But he did not seem to hear her apology. He stood
with his gaze fixed on the fire, and his hand clenched
against his heart, as if something in the fate of that
wretched sheet of paper reminded him of the love and
hope that were shrivelling up before his eyes.
She saw his look and drooped her head with a sudden
low moan of mingled shame and suffering.
"Am I killing yau?” she faintly cried. “Are my
strange, wild ways driving you to despair? I had not
thought of that. I am so selfish, I had not thought of
that ! "


248 HAND AND RING.
This evidence of feeling, the first she had ever shown
him, moved Mr. Orcutt deeply. Advancing toward her,
with sudden passion, he took her by the hand.
“ Killing me?" he repeated. “ Yes, you are killing
me. Don't you see how fast I am growing old ? Don't
you see how the dust lies thick upon the books that used
to be my solace and delight ? I do not understand you,
Imogene. I love you and I do not understand your
grief, or what it is that is affecting you in this terrible
way. Tell me. Let me know the nature of the forces
with which I have to contend, and I can bear all the
rest."
This appeal, forced as it was from lips unused to
prayer, seemed to strike her, absorbed though she was in
her own suffering. Looking at him with real concern, she
tried to speak, but the words faltered on her tongue.
They came at last, however, and he heard her say :
“I wish I could weep, if only to show you I am not
utterly devoid of womanly sympathy for an anguish I
cannot cure. But the fountain of my tears is dried at. its
source. I do not think I can ever weep again. I am
condemned to tread apath of misery and despair, and
must traverse it to the end without weakness and without
help. Do not ask me why, for I can never tell you. And
do not detain me now, or try to make me talk, for I must
go where I can be alone and silent."
She was slipping away, but he caught her by the wrist
and drew her back. His pain and perplexity had
reached their climax.


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 249
“ You must speak," he cried. “I have paltered long
enough with this matter. You must tell me what it is that
is destroying your happiness and mine."
But her eyes, turning toward him, seemed to echo that
must in a -look of disdain eloquent enough to scorn all
help from words, and in the indomitable determination of
her whole aspect he saw that he might slay her, but that
he could never make her speak.
Loosing her with a gesture of despair, he turned away.
When he glanced back again she was gone.
The result of this interview was naturally an increased
doubt and anxiety on his part. He could not attend to
his duties with any degree of precision, he was so haunted
by uneasy surmises as to what might have been the con-
tents of the letter which he had thus seen her destroy be-
fore his eyes. As for her words, they were like her con-
duct, an insolvable mystery, for which he had no key.
His failure to find her at home when he returned that
night added to his alarm, especially as he remembered
the vivid thunder.storm that had deluged the town in the
afternoon. Nor, though she came in very soon and
offered both excuses and explanations for her absence,
did he experience any appreciable relief, or feel at all
satisfied that he was not threatened with some secret and
terrible catastrophe. Indeed, the air of vivid and fever-
ish excitement which pervaded every look of hers from
this time, making each morning and evening distinctive
in his memory as a season of fresh fear and renewed sus-


550 HAND AND RING.
pense, was enough of itself to arouse this sense of an un-
known, but surely approaching, danger. He saw she was
on the look out for some event, he knew not what, and
studied the papers as sedulously as she, in the hope of
coming upon some revelation that should lay bare the
secret of this new condition of hers. At last he thought
he had found it. Coming home one day from the court,
he called her into his presence, and, without pause or
preamble, exclaimed, with almost cruel abruptness :
“An event of possible interest to you has just taken
place. The murderer of Mrs. Clemmens has just cut his
throat."
He saw before he had finished the first clause that he
had struck at the very citadel of her terrors and her woe.
At the end of the second sentence he knew, beyond all
doubt now, what it was she had been fearing, if not ex-
pecting. Yet she said not a word, and by no movement
betrayed that the steel had gone through and through her
heart.
A demon—the maddening demon of jealousy-
gripped him for the first time with relentless force.
“Ah, you have been looking for it?" he cried in a
choked voice. “You know this man, then—knew him,
perhaps, before the murder of Mrs. Clemmens; knew
him, and—and, perhaps, loved him ?”
She did not reply.
He struck his forehead with his hand, as if the moment
was perfectly intolerable to him.
..."


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 251
“ Answer," he cried. “ Did you know Gouverneur
Hildreth or not?" '
“ Gouverneur .Hildret/1 ?" Oh, the sharp surprise, the
wailing anguish of her tone! Mr. Orcutt stood amazed.
“ It is not he who has made this attempt upon his life !—-
not he ! ” she shrieked like one appalled.
Perhaps because all other expression or emotion failed
him, -Mr. Orcutt. broke forth into aloud and harrowing
laugh. “And who else should it be ?" he cried.
“What other man stands accused of having murdered
Widow Clemmens ? You are mad, Imogene ; you don't
know what you say or what you do."
“Yes, I am mad," she repeated—“ mad ! " and leaned
her forehead forward on the back of a high chair beside
which she had been standing, and hid her face and strug-
gled with herself for a moment, while the clock went on
ticking, and the wretched surveyer of her sorrow stood
looking at her bended head like a man who does not
know whether it is he or she who is in the most danger of
losing his reason.
At last a word struggled forth from between her
clasped hands.
“When did it happen?" she gasped, without lifting
her head. “ Tell me all about it. I think I can under-
stand."
The noted lawyer smiled a bitter smile, and spoke for
the first time, without pity and without mercy.
“ He has been trying for some days to effect his death.


252 HAND AND RING.
His arrest and the little prospect there is of his escaping
trial seem to have maddened his gentlemanly brain.
Fire.arms were not procurable, neither was poison nor a
rope, but a pewter plate is enough in the hands of a

desperate man. He broke one in two last night, an
He paused, sick and horror.stricken. Her face had
risen upon him from the back of the chair, and was star-
ing upon him like that of a Medusa. Before that gaze
the flesh crept on his bones and the breath of life refused
to pass his lips. Gazing at her with rising horror, he saw
her stony lips slowly part.
“ Don't go on," she whispered. “ I can see it all with-
out the help of words." Then, in a tone that seemed to
come from some far.off world of nightmare, she painfully
gasped, “ Is he dead ?"
Mr. Orcutt was a man who, up to the last year, had
never known what it was to experience a real and con-
trolling emotion. Life with him had meant success in
public affairs, and a certain social pre.eminence that
made his presence in any place the signal of admiring
looks and respectful attentions. But let no man think
that, because his doom delays, it will never come. Pas-
sions such as he had deprecated in others, and desires
such as he had believed impossible to himself, had seized
upon him with ungovernable power, and in this moment
especially he felt himself yielding to their sway with no
more power of resistance than a puppet experiences in the
grasp of a whirlwind. Meeting that terrible eye of hers,


.
' . . ' ' . ' ‘ --
. .
- 0 . ‘ ‘ ' ..
...


Xflfd0l‘
- . - -}

“ He paused. sick and horror.stricken. Her face had risen u on him from the
back of the chair, and was staring at him like that of a Medusa.' —(Page 252.)





THE WEAVING OF A WEB. ' 253-
burning with an anxiety for a man he despised, and
hearing that agoriized question from lips w.hose touch he
had never known, he experienced a sudden wild and
almost demoniac temptation to hurl back the implacable
“ Yes" that he felt certain would strike her like a dead
woman to the ground. But the horrid impulse passed,
and, with a quick remembrance of the claims of honor
upon one bearing his name and owning his history, he
controlled himself with a giant resolution, and merely
dropping his eyes from an anguish he dared no longer
confront, answered, quietly : .
“ No ; he has hurt himself severely and has disfigured
his good looks for life, but he will not die; or so the
physicians think.”
A long, deep, shuddering sigh swept through the room.
“ Thank God!" came from her lips, and then all was
quiet again.
He looked up in haste ; he could not bear the silence.
“ Imogenei” he began, but instantly paused in sur-
prise at the change which had taken place in her expres-
sion. “What do you intend to do?" was his quick
demand. “You look as I have never seen you lool;
before."
“ Do not ask me !" she returned. “ I have no words
for what I am going to do. What you must do is to see
that Gouverneur Hildreth is released from prison. He
. is not guilty, mind you; he never committed this crime
of which he is suspected, and in the shame of which sus-



254 HAND AND RING.
picion he has this day attempted his life. If he is kept
in the restraint which is so humiliating to him, and if he
dies there, it will be murder—do you hear? murder!
And he will die there if he is not released; I know his
feelings only too well."
“But, Imogene——"
“ Hush ! don't argue. ‘T is a matter of life and death,
I tell you. He must be released ! I know," she went on,
hurriedly, “what it is you want to say. You think you
cannot do this ; that the evidence is all against him ; that
he went to prison of his own free will and cannot hope
for release till his guilt or innocence has been properly
inquired into. But I know you can effect his enlarge-
ment if you will. You are a lawyer, and understand all
the crooks and turns by which a man can sometimes be
made to evade the grasp of justice. Use your knowledge.
Avail yourself of. your influence with the authorities, and
I
" she paused and gave him a long, long look.
He was at her side in an instant.
“ You would—what ?" he cried, taking her hand in his
and pressing it impulsively.
“ I would grant you whatever you ask," she murmured,
in a weariful tone.
“Would you be my wife ? ” he passionately inquired.
“ Yes," was the choked reply; “if I did not die first."
He caught her to his breast in rapture. He knelt at
her side and threw his arms about her waist.
“ You shall not die," he cried. “You shall live and be
happy. Only marry me to.day."


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 255
“ Not till Gouverneur Hildreth be released,” she inter-
posed, gently.
He started as if touched by a galvanic battery, and
slowly rose up and coldly looked at her.
“ Do you love him so madly you would sell yourself for
his sake ?" he sternly demanded.
With a quick gesture she threw back her head as though
the indignant “ No " that sprang to her lips would flash
out whether she would or not. But she restrained herself
in time.
“ I cannot answer," she returned.
But he was master now—master of this dominating
spirit that had held him in check for so long a time, and
he was not to be put off.
“You must answer," he sternly commanded. “ I have
the right to know the extent of your feeling for this man,
and I will. Do you love him, Imogene Dare ? Tell me,
or I here swear that I will do nothing for him, either now
or at a time when he may need my assistance more than
you know.”
This threat, uttered as he uttered it, could have but one
effect. Turning aside, so that he should not see the
shuddering revolt in her eyes, she mechanically whispered :
“ And what if I did? Would it be so very strange?
Youth admires youth, Mr. Orcutt, and Mr. Hildreth is
very handsome and very unfortunate. Do not oblige me
to say more."
Mr. Orcutt, across whose face a dozen different emo-


2 56 HAND AND RING.
tions had fiitted during the utterance of these few words,
drew back till half the distance of the room lay between
them.
“ Nor do I wish to hear any more," he rejoined, slowly.
" You have said enough, quite enough. I understand
now all the past—all your terrors and all your secret
doubts and unaccountable behavior. The man you loved
was in danger, and you did not know how to manage his
release. Well, well, I am sorry for you, Imogene. I
wish I could help you. I love you passionately, and
would make you my wife in face of your affection for this
. man if I could do for you what you request. But it is
impossible. Never during the whole course of my career
has a blot rested upon my integrity as a lawyer. I am
known as an honest man, and honest will I remain known to
the last. Besides, I could do nothing to effect his enlarge-
ment if I tried. Nothing but the plainest proof that he
is innocent, or that another man is guilty, would avail
now to release him from the suspicion which his own ad-
missions have aroused."
“ Then there is no hope ?" was her slow and despairing
reply.
“ None at present, Imogene," was his stern, almost as
despairing, answer.
As Mr. Orcutt sat over his lonely hearth that evening,
a servant brought to him the following letter :
DEAR FRIEND,—It is not fit that I should remain any longer
under your roof. I have a duty before me which separates me for-


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 257
ever from the friendship and protection of honorable men and women.
No home but such as I can provide for myself by the work of my
own hands shall henceforth shelter the disgraced head of Imogene
Dare. Her fate, whatever it may prove to be, she bears alone, and
you, who have been so kind, shall never suffer from any association
with one whose name must henceforth become the sport of the crowd,
if not the execration of the virtuous. If your generous heart rebels
at this, choke it relentlessly down. I shall be already gone when you
read these lines, and nothing you could do or say would make me
come back. Good.by, and may Heaven grant you forgctfulness of
one whose only return to your benefactions has been to make you
sufler almost as much as she suffers herself.
As Mr. Orcutt read these last lines, District Attorney
Ferris was unsealing the anonymous missive which has
already been laid before my readers.


258 HAND AND RING.
XXI.
A HEART'S MARTYRDOM.
Oh that 1 man might know
The end of this day's business,ere it come ;
But it sufiiceth that the day will end,
And then the end is known !—]vr.ws CESAR.
R. FERRIS' first impulse upon dismissing the
M detectives had been to carry the note he had
received to Mr. Orcutt. But a night's careful considera-
tion of the subject convinced him that the wisest course
would be to follow the suggestions conveyed in the letter,
and seek a direct interview with Imogene Dare.
It was not an agreeable task for him to undertake.
Miss Dare was a young lady whom he had always held in
the highest esteem. He had hoped to see her the wife
of his friend, and would have given much from his own
private stock of hope and happiness to have kept' her
name free from the contumely which any association with
this dreadful crime must necessarily bring upon it. But
his position as prosecuting attorney of the county would
not allow him to consult his feelings any further in a
case of such serious import. The condition of Mr. Hil-
dreth was, to say the least, such as demanded the most
impartial action on the part of the public oflicials, and if
through any explanation of Miss Dare the one missing
--_.


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 259
link in the chain of evidence against another could be
supplied, it was certainly his duty to do all he could to
insure it. '
Accordingly at a favorable hour the next day, he made
his appearance at Mr. Orcutt's house, and learning that
Miss Dare had gone to Professor Darling's house for a
few days, followed her to her new home and requested
an interview.
She at once responded to his call. Little did he think
as she came into the parlor where he sat, and with even
more than her usual calm self.possession glided down
the length of that elegant apartment to his side, that she
had just come from a small room on the top floor, where,
in the position of a hired seamstress, she had been en-
gaged in cutting out the wedding garments of one of the
daughters of the house.
Her greeting was that of a person attempting to feign .
a surprise she did not feel.
“ Ah," said she, “ Mr. Ferris ! This is an unexpected
pleasure."
But Mr. Ferris had no heart for courtesies.
“Miss Dare," he began, without any of the prelimi-
naries which might be expected of him, “I have come
upon a disagreeable errand. Ihave a favor to ask. You
are in the possession of a piece of information which it is
highly necessary for me to share."
. I ?-,
The surprise betrayed in this single word was ' no more


260 HAND AND RING.
than was to be expected from a lady thus addressed,
neither did the face she turned so steadily toward him
alter under his searching gaze.
“If I can tell you any thing that you wish to know,"
she quietly declared, “I am certainly ready to do so, sir."
Deceived by the steadiness of her tone and the straight-
forward look of her eyes, he proceeded, with a sudden
releasement from his embarrassment, to say :
“I shall have to recall to your mind a most painful
incident. You remember, on the morning when we met
at Mrs. Clemmens' house, claiming as your own a diamond
ring which was picked up from the floor at your feet ?"
“ I do."
“Miss Dare, was this ring really yours, or were you
misled by its appearance into merely thinking it your
property ? My excuse for asking this is that the ring, if
not yours, is likely to become an important factor in the
H case to which the murder of this unfortunate woman has
led."
“Sir——” The pause which followed the utterance
of this one word was but momentary, but in it what faint
and final hope may have gone down into the depths of
everlasting darkness God only knows. “Sir, since you
ask me the question, I will say that in one sense of the
term it was mine, and in another it was not. The ring
was mine, because it had been offered to me as a gift the
day before. The ring was not mine, because I had
refused to take it when it was offered."


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 261
At these words, spoken with such quietness they
seemed like the mechanical utterances of a woman in a
trance, Mr. Ferris started to his feet. He could no
longer doubt that evidence of an important nature lay
before him.
“And may I ask," he inquired, without any idea of the
martyrdom he caused, “ what was the name of the person
who offered you this ring, and from whom you refused to
take it ?”
“The name?" She quavered for a moment, and her
eyes flashed up toward heaven with a look of wild appeal,
as if the requirement of this moment was more than even
she had strength to meet. Then a certain terrible calm
settled upon her, blotting the last hint of feeling from her
face, and, rising up in her turn, she met Mr. Ferris' in-
quiring eye, and slowly and distinctly replied :
“It was Craik Mansell, sir. He is a nephew of Mrs.
Clemmens."
It was the name Mr. Ferris had come there to hear, yet
it gave him a slight shock when it fell from her lips—per-
haps because his mind was still running upon her sup-
posed relations with Mr. Orcutt. But he did not show
his feelings, however, and calmly asked :
“And was Mr. Mansell in this town the day before the
assault upon his aunt?"
“ He was."
“ And you had a conversation with him?"
“I had."
" May I ask where?"


262 HAND AND RING.
For the first time she flushed; womanly shame had
not yet vanished entirely from her stricken breast; but
she responded as steadily as before :
“In the woods, sir, back of Mrs. Clemmens' house.
There were reasons "-—.she paused—“ there were good
reasons, which I do not feel obliged to state, why a meet-
ing in such a place was not discreditable to us."
Mr. Ferris, who had received from other sources a'full
version of the interview to which she thus alluded, expe-
rienced a sudden revulsion of feeling against one he
could not but consider as a detected coquette ; and, draw-
ing quickly back, made a gesture such as was not often
witnessed in those elegant apartments.
“You mean,” said he, with a sharp edge to his tone
that passed over her dreary soul unheeded, “that you
were lovers ?”
“ I mean,' said she, like the automaton she surely was
at that moment, “ that he had paid me honorable ad-
dresses, and that I had no reason to doubt his motives or
my own in seeking such ameeting." -
.
“Miss Dare,"—all the District Attorney spoke in the
manner of Mr. Ferris now,—“ if you refused Mr. Mansell
his ring, you must have returned it to him ? ”
She looked at him with an anguish that bespoke her
full appreciation of all this question implied, but un-
equivocally bowed her head.
“It was in his possession, then," he continued, “ when
you left him on that day and returned to your home?”


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 263
“Yes," her lips seemed to say, though no distinct ut-
terance came from them.
“And you did not see it again till you found it on
the floor of Mrs. Clemmens' dining.room the morning of
the murder ? "
It N 0.1! -
“Miss Dare,” said he, with greater mildness, after a
short pause, “ you have answered my somewhat painful
inquiries with a straightforwardness I cannot sufliciently
commend. If you will now add to my gratitude by tell-
ing me whether you have informed any one else of the
important facts you have just given me, I will distress you
by no further questions."
“Sir," said she, and her attitude showed that she
could endure but little more, “ I have taken no one else
‘ into my confidence. Such knowledge as I had to im-
part was not matter for idle gossip."
And Mr. Ferris, being thus assured that his own sur-
mises and that of Hickory were correct, bowed with the
respect her pale face and rigid attitude seemed to de-
mand, and considerately left the house.


264 HAND AND RING.
XXII.
CRAIK MANSELL.
Bring me unto my trial when you will.—-l~leunv VI.
“ E is here."
Mr. Ferris threw aside his cigar, and looked
up at Mr. Byrd, who was standing before him.
“ You had no difficulty, then ?"
“ No, sir. He acted like a man in hourly expectation
of some such summons. At the very first intimation of
your desire to see him in Sibley, he rose from his desk,
with what I thought was a meaning look at Mr. Good-
man, and after a few preparations for departure, signified
he was ready to take the next train."
“ And did he ask no questions ?"
“ Only one. He wished to know if I were a detective.
And when I responded ‘ Yes,' observed with an inquiring
look: ‘ I am wanted as a witness, I suppose.' A sug-
gestion to which I was careful to make no reply."
Mr. Ferris pushed aside his writing and glanced tow-
ard the door. “ Show him in, Mr. Byrd,” said he.
A moment after Mr. Mansell entered the room.
The District Attorney had never seen this man, and was
struck at once by the force and manliness of his appear-
ance. Half-rising from his seat to greet the visitor, he
said:


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 265
“ I have to beg your pardon, Mr. Mansell. Feeling it
quite necessary to see you, I took the liberty of request-
ing you to take this journey, my own time being fully
occupied at present."
Mr. Mansell bowed—a slow, self.possessed bow,—~and
advancing to the table before which the District Attorney
sat, laid his hand firmly upon it and said :
“No apologies are needed." Then shortly, “What is
it you want of me ?”
The words were almost the same as those which
had been used by Mr. Hildreth under similar circum-
stances, but how different was their effect! The one was
the utterance of a weak man driven to bay, the other of
a strong one. Mr. Ferris, who was by no means of an
impressible organization, flashed a look of somewhat un-
easy doubt at Mr. Byrd, and hesitated slightly before
proceeding. .
“ We have sent for you in this. friendly way," he re-
marked, at last, “in order to give you that opportunity
for explaining certain matters connected with your aunt's
sudden death which your well.known character and good
position seem to warrant. We think you can do this. At
all events I have accorded myself the privilege of so sup-
posing; and any words you may have to say will meet
with all due consideration. As Mrs. Clemmens' nephew,
you, of course, desire to see her murderer brought to
justice."
The slightly rising inflection given to the last few


266 HAND AND RING.
words made them to all intents and purposes a question,
and Mr. Byrd, who stood near by, waited anxiously for
the decided Yes which seemed the only possible reply un-
der the circumstances, but it did not come.
Surprised, and possibly anxious, the District Attorney
repeated himself.
“ As her nephew," said he, “ and the inheritor of
the few savings she has left behind her, you can have but
one wish on this subject, Mr. Mansell ?”
But this attempt succeeded no better than the first.
Beyond a slight compression of the lips, Mr. Mansell
gave no manifestation of having heard this remark, and
both Mr. Ferris and the detective found themselves forced
towonder at the rigid honesty of a man who, whatever
death.giving blow he may have dealt, would not allow
himself to escape the prejudice of his accusers by assent-
ing to a supposition he and they knew to be false
Mr. Ferris did not press the question.
“ Mr. Mansell," he remarked instead, “ a person by the
name of Gouverneur Hildreth is, as you must know,
under arrest at this time, charged with the crime of hav-
ing given the blow that led to your aunt's death.. The
evidence against him is strong, and the public generally
have no doubt that his arrest will lead to trial, if not to
conviction. But, unfortunately for us, however fortu-
nately for him, another person has lately been found,
against whom an equal show of evidence can be raised,
and it is for the purpose of- satisfying ourselves that


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 267
it is but a show, we have requested your presence here
to.day."
A spasm, vivid as it was instantaneous, distorted for a
moment the powerful features of Craik Mansell at the
words, “another person," but it was gone before the
sentence was completed ; and when Mr. Ferris ceased, he
looked up with the steady calmness which made his bear-
ing so remarkable.
“I am waiting to hear the name of this freshly
suspected person," he observed.
“Cannot you imagine ?" asked the District Attorney,
-coldly, secretly disconcerted under a gaze that held his
own with such steady persistence.
The eyeballs of the other flashed like coals of fire.
“ I think it is my right to hear it spoken," he returned.
This display of feeling restored Mr. Ferris to himself.
“ In a moment, sir," said he. “ Meanwhile, have you
any objections to answering a few questions I would like
to put to you ? "
“I will hear them," was the steady reply.
“ You know," said the District Attorney, “ you are at
perfect liberty to answer or not, as you see fit. I have no
desire to entrap you into any acknowledgments you may
hereafter regret."
“ Speak," was the sole response he received.
“Well, sir," said Mr. Ferris, “ are you willing to tell me
where you where when you first heard of the assault
which had been made upon your aunt ?”
“ I was in my place at the mill."


268 HAND AND RING.
“ And—pardon me if I go too far—were you also there
the morning she was murdered ?"
“ No, sir.”
.“ Mr. Mansell, if you could tell us where you were at
that time, it would be of great benefit to us, and possibly
to yourself."
“ To myself?"
Having shown his surprise, or, possibly, his alarm, by
the repetition of the other's words, Craik Mansell paused
and looked slowly around the room until he encountered
Mr. Byrd's eye. There was a steady compassion in the
look he met there that seemed to strike him with great
force, for he at once replied that he was away from home,
and stopped—his glance still fixed upon Mr. Byrd, as if,
by the very power of his gaze, he would force the secrets
of that detective's soul to the surface.
“ Mr. Mansell,” pursued the District Attorney, “ a
distinct avowal on your part of the place where you were
at that time, would be best for us both, I am sure."
“ Do you not already know ? ” inquired the other,'his
eye still upon Horace Byrd.
“ We have reason to think you were in this town,"
averred Mr. Ferris, with an emphasis calculated to recall
the attention of his visitor to himself.
“ And may I ask," Craik Mansell quietly said, “ what
reason you can have for such a supposition ? No one could
have seen me here, for, till to.day I have not entered the
streets of this place since my visit to my aunt three months
ago.


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 269
“ It was not necessary to enter the streets of this town
to effect a visit to Mrs. Clemmens' house, Mr. Mansell."
“ No ? ” '
There was the faintest hint of emotion in the intona-
tion he gave to that one word, but it vanished before he
spoke his next sentence.
“ And how," asked he, “ can a person pass from Sibley
Station to the door of my aunt's house without going
through the streets?"
Instead of replying, Mr. Ferris inquired:
“ Did you get out at Sibley Station, Mr. Mansell ?”
But the other, with unmoved self.possession, returned :
“ I have not said so."
“ Mr. Mansell," the District Attorney now observed,
“ we have no motive in deceiving or even in misleading
you. You were in this town on the morning of your
aunt's murder, and you were even in her house. Evidence
which you cannot dispute proves this, and the question
that now arises, and of whose importance we leave you to
judge, is whether you were there prior to the visit of Mr.
Hildreth, or after. Any proof you may have to show that
it was before will receive its due consideration."
A change, decided as it was involuntary, took place in
the hitherto undisturbed countenance of Craik Mansell.
Leaning forward, he surveyed Mr. Ferris with great ear-
nestness. '
“I asked that man,” said he, pointing with a steady
forefinger at the somewhat abashed detective, “ if I were


. -.»--.'
270 HAND AND RING.
not wanted here simply as a witness, and he did not say
No. Now, sir, he continued, turning back with a slight
gesture of disdain to the District Attorney, “ was the man
right in allowing me to believe such a fact, or was he not ?
I would like an answer to my question before I proceed
further, if you please."
“ You shall have it, Mr. Mansell. If this man did not
answer you, it was probably because he did not feel justi-
fied in so doing. He knew I had summoned you
here in the hope of receiving such explanations of your
late conduct as should satisfy me you had nothing to do
with your aunt's murder. The claims upon my consider-
ation, which are held by certain persons allied to you in
this matter”—Mr. Ferris' look was eloquent of his real
meaning here-.—“ are my sole justification for this some-
what unusual method of dealing with a suspected
man.
A smile, bitter, oh, how bitter in its irony! traversed
the firm.set lips of Craik Mansell for a moment, then he
bowed with a show of deference to the District Attorney,
and settling into the attitude of a man willing to plead his
own cause, responded :
“ It would be more just, perhaps, if I first heard the
reasons you have for suspecting me, before I attempt
to advance arguments to prove the injustice of your sus-
picions."
' Well," said Mr. Ferris, “ you shall have them. If
frankness on my part can do aught to avert the terrible


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 271
scandal which your arrest and its consequent develop-
ments would cause, I am willing to sacrifice thus much to
my friendship for Mr. Orcutt. But if I do this, I shall
expect an equal frankness in return. The matter is too
serious for subterfuge."
The other merely waved his hand.
“The reasons," proceeded Mr. Ferris, “ for consider-
ing you a party as much open to suspicion as Mr. Hil-
dreth, are several. First, we have evidence to prove
your great desire for a sum of money equal to your aunt's
savings, in order to introduce an invention which you
have just patented.
“Secondly, we can show that you. left your home in
Buffalo the day before the assault, came to Monteith, the
next town to this, alighted at the remote station assigned
to the use of the quarrymen, crossed the hills and
threaded the woods till you came to a small hut back of '
your aunt's house, where you put up for the night..
“Thirdly, evidence is not lacking to prove that while
there you visited your aunt's once, if not twice ; the last
time on the very morning she was killed, entering the
house in a surreptitious way by the back door, and leav-
ing it in the same suspicious manner.
“ And fourthly, we can prove that you escaped from
this place as you had come, secretly, and through a diffi-
cult and roundabout path over the hills.
“ Mr. Mansell, these facts, taken with your reticence
concerning a visit so manifestly of importance to the


272 HAND AND RING.
authorities to know, must strike even you as offering
grounds for a suspicion as grave as that attaching to Mr.
Hildreth."
With a restraint marked as it was impressive, Mr.
Mansell looked at the District Attorney for a moment,
and then said :
“ You speak of proof. Now, what proof have you to
give that I put up, as you call it, for a night, or even for
an hour, in the hut which stands in the woods back of
my aunt's house? "
“ This," was Mr. Ferris' reply. “ It is known you were
in the woods the afternoon previous to the assault upon
your aunt, because you were seen there in company with
a young lady with whom you were holding a tryst. Did
you speak, sir?"
“ No ! ” was the violent, almost disdainful, rejoinder. '
“ You did not sleep at your aunt's, for her rooms con-
tained not an evidence of having been opened for a
guest, while the hut revealed more than one trace of hav-
ing been used as a dormitory. I could even tell you
where you cut the twigs of hemlock that served you for
a pillow, and point to the place where you sat when you
scribbled over the margin of the Buffalo Courier with a
blue pencil, such as that I now see projecting from your
vest pocket."
“It is not necessary,” replied the young man, heavily
frowning. Then with another short glance at Mr. Ferris,
he again demanded:


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 273
“What is your reason for stating I visited my aunt's
house on the morning she was murdered? Did any one
see me do it? or does the house, like the hut, exhibit
traces of my presence there at that particular time ? ”
There was irony in his tone, and a disdain almost
amounting to scorn in’ his wide.flashing blue eyes; but
Mr. Ferris, glancing at the hand clutched about the rail-
ing of the desk, remarked quietly :
“You do not wear the diamond ring you carried away
with you from the tryst I mentioned ? Can it be that the
one which was picked up after the assault, on the floor of
Mrs. Clemmens' dining.room, could have fallen from your
finger, Mr. Mansell ? "
A start, the first this powerfully repressed man had
given, showed that his armor of resistance had been
pierced at last.
“How do you know," he quickly asked, “ that I carried
away a diamond ring from the tryst you speak of ? "
“ Circumstances," returned the District Attorney,

“ prove it beyond a doubt. Miss Dare ”
“ Miss Dare ! "
Oh, the indescribable tone of this exclamation! Mr.
Byrd shuddered as he heard it, and looked at Mr. Mansell
with a new feeling, for which he had no name.
“ Miss Dare," repeated the District Attorney, without,
apparently, regarding the interruption, “ acknowledges
she returned you the ring which you endeavored at that
interview to bestow upon her."


274 HAND AND RING.
“Ah! " The word came after a moment's pause. “ I
see the case has been well worked up, and it only remains
for me to give you such explanations as I choose to make.
Sir," declared he, stepping forward, and bringing his
clenched hand down upon the desk at which Mr. Ferris
was sitting, “ I did not kill my aunt. I admit that I paid
her a visit. I admit that I stayed in the woods back of her
house, and even slept in the hut, as you have said; but
that was on the day previous to her murder, and not after
it. I went to see her for the purpose of again urging the
claims of my invention upon her. I went secretly, and
by the roundabout way you describe, because I had
another purpose in visiting Sibley, which made it expedi-
ent for me to conceal my presence in the town. I failed
in my efforts to enlist the sympathies of my aunt in re-
gard to my plans, and I failed also in compassing that
other desire of my heart of which the ring you mention
was a token. Both failures unnerved me, and I lay in
that hut all night. I even lay there most of the next
morning ; but I did not see my aunt again, and I did not
lift my hand against her life." '
There was indescribable quiet in the tone, but there
was indescribable power also, and the look he levelled
upon the District Attorney was unwaveringly solemn and
hard. N“
“ You deny, then, that you entered the widow's house
on the morning of the murder P "
“ I do.”


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 275
“ It is, then, a question of veracity between you and
Miss Dare ? "
Silence.
“She asserts she gave you back the ring you offered
her. If this is so, and that ring was in your possession
after you left her on Monday evening, how came it to be
in the widow's dining.room the next morning, if you did
not carry it there ? ”
“ I can only repeat my words," rejoined Mr. Mansell.
The District Attorney replied impatiently. For vari-
ous reasons he did not wish to believe this man guilty.
“ You do not seem very anxious to assist me in my
endeavors to reach the truth," he observed. “Cannot
you tell me what you did with the ring after you left
Miss Dare? Whether you put it on your finger, or
thrust it into your pocket, or tossed it into the marsh?
If you did not carry it to the house, some one else must
have done so, and you ought to be able to help us in
determining who."
But Mr. Mansell shortly responded :
“I have nothing to say about the ring. From the
moment Miss Dare returned it to me, as you say, it was,
so far as I am concerned, a thing forgotten. I do not
know as I should ever have thought of it again, if you
had not mentioned it to me to.day. How it vanished
from my possession only to reappear upon the scene of
,murder, some more clever conjurer than myself must
explain."


276 HAND AND RING.
“ And this is all you have to say, Mr. Mansell ? "
“ This is all I have to say."
“Byrd," suggested the District Attorney, after a long
pause, during which the subject of his suspicions had
stood before him as rigid and inscrutable as a statue in
bronze, “ Mr. Mansell would probably like to go to the
hotel, unless, indeed, he desires to return immediately to
Buffalo."
Craik Mansell at once started forward.
“Do you intend to allow me to return to Buffalo?”
he asked.
“ Yes," was the District Attorney's reply.
“You are a good man,” broke involuntarily from the
other's lips, and he impulsively reached out his hand,
but as quickly drew it back with a flush of pride that
greatly became him.
“ I do not say," quoth Mr. Ferris, “that I exempt you
from surveillance. As prosecuting attorney of this dis-
trict, my duty is to seek out and discover the man who
murdered Mrs. Clemmens, and your explanations have
not been as full or as satisfactory as I could wish." .
“Your men will always find me at my desk in the
mill," said Mr. Mansell, coldly. And, with another
short bow, he left the attorney's side and went quickly
out.
“That man is innocent," declared Mr. Ferris, as
Horace Byrd leaned above him in expectation of in-.
structions to keep watch over the departing visitor.


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 277
“The way in which he held out his hand to me spoke
volumes." '
The detective cast a sad glance at Craik Mansell's
retreating figure.
“You could not convince Hickory of that fact,”
said he.


278 HAND AND RING.
XXIII.
MR. ORCUTT.
What is it she does now ?—M.
THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 279
“ Did n't you think more than that, sir? Did n't you
think she believed Mr. Mansell guilty of this crime?"
“ Yes,” admitted the other, with reluctance.
“If Miss Dare is attached to Mr. Mansell, she must
feel certain of his guilt to ofler testimony against him.
Her belief should go for something, sir; for much, it
strikes me,'when you consider what a woman she is."
This conversation increased Mr. Ferris' uneasiness.
Much as he wished to spare the feelings of Miss Dare,
and, through her, those of his friend, Mr. Orcutt, the
conviction of Mansell's criminality was slowly gaining
ground in his mind. He remembered the peculiar man-
ner of the latter during the interview they had held
together; his quiet acceptance of the position of a sus-
pected man, and his marked reticence in regard to the
ring. Though the delicate nature of the interests in-
volved might be sufficient to explain his behavior in the
latter regard, his whole conduct could not be said to be
that of a disinterested man, even if it were not necessarily
that of a guilty one. In whatever way Mr. Ferris looked
at it, he could come to but one conclusion, and that was,
that justice to Hildreth called for such oflicial attention
1:0 the evidence which had been collected against Mansell
asshould secure the indictment of that man against
whom could be brought the more convincing proof of
guilt.
Not that Mr. Ferris meant, or in anywise considered it
good policy, to have Mansell arrested at this time. As


__..,.
280 HAND AND RING.
the friend of Mr. Orcutt, it was manifestly advisable for
him to present whatever evidence he possessed against
Mansell directly to the Grand ]ury. For in this way he
would not only save the lawyer from the pain and humili-
ation of seeing the woman he so much loved called up as
a witness against the man who had successfully rivalled
him in her affections, but would run the chance, at least, .
of eventually preserving from open knowledge, the vari-
ous details, if not the actual facts, which had led to this
person being suspected of crime. For the Grand Jury is
a body whose business it is to make secret inquisition into
criminal offences. Its members are bound by oath to
the privacy of their deliberations. If, therefore, they
should find the proofs presented to them by the District
Attorney insufficient to authorize an indictment against
Mansell, nothing of their proceedings would transpire.
While, on the contrary, if they decided that the evidence
was such as to oblige them to indict Mansell instead of
Hildreth, neither Mr. Orcutt nor Miss Dare could hold
the District Attorney accountable for the exposures that
must follow. '
The course, therefore, of Mr. Ferris was determined
upon. All the evidence in his possession against both
parties, together with the verdict of the coroner's jury,
should go at once before the Grand ]ury ; Mansell, in the
meantime, being so watched that a bench.warrant issuing
upon the indictment would have him safely in custody at
any moment.


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 281
But this plan for saving Mr. Orcutt's feelings did not
succeed as fully as Mr. Ferris hoped. By some means or
other the rumor got abroad that another man than Hil-
dreth had fallen under the suspicion of the authorities,
and one day Mr. Ferris found himself stopped on the
street by the very person he had for a week been en-
deavoring to avoid.
“ Mr. Orcutt ! ” he cried, “ how do you do ? I did not
recognize you at first."
“No?" was the sharp rejoinder. “I ‘m not myself
nowadays. I have a bad cold." With which impatient
explanation he seized Mr. Ferris by the arm and said:
“ But what is this I hear ? You have your eye on another
party suspected of being Mrs. Clemmens' murderer ?"
The District Attorney bowed uneasily. He had hoped
to escape the discussion of this subject with Mr. Orcutt.
The lawyer observed the embarrassment his question
had caused, and instantly turned pale, notwithstanding
the hardihood which a long career at the bar had given
him.
“Ferris," he pursued, in a voice he strove hard to
keep steady, “ we have always been good friends, in spite
of the many tilts we have had together before the court.
Will you be kind enough to inform me if your suspicions
are founded upon evidence collected by yourself, or at
the instigation of parties professing to know more about
this murder than they have hitherto revealed ? ”
Mr. Ferris could not fail to understand the true nature


282 HAND AND RING.
of this question, and out of pure friendship answered
quietly :
“I have allowed myself to look with suspicion upon
this Mansell—for it is Mrs. Clemmens' nephew who is at
present occupying our attention,—because the facts which
have come to light in his regard are as criminating in
their nature as those which have transpired in reference
to Mr. Hildreth. The examination into this matter,
which my duty requires, has been any thing but pleasant
to me, Mr. Orcutt. The evidence of such witnesses as
will have to be summoned before the Grand Jury, is
of a character to bring open humiliation, if not secret
grief, upon persons for whom I entertain the highest
esteem."
The pointed way in which this was said convinced
Mr. Orcutt that his worst fears- had been 'realized.
Turning partly away, but not losing his hold upon
the other's arm, he observed with what quietness he
could:
“You say that so strangely, I feel forced to put
another question to you. If what I have to ask strikes
you with any surprise, remember that my own astonish-
ment and perplexity at being constrained to interrogate
you in this way, are greater than any sensation you can
yourself experience. What I desire to know is this.
Among the witnesses you have collected against this
last suspected party, there are some women, are there
not ?"


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 283
The District Attorney gravely bowed.
“ Ferris, is Miss Dare amongst them ? ”
“ Orcutt, she is."
With a look that expressed his secret mistrust the
lawyer gave way to a sudden burst of feeling.
“ Ferris," he wrathfully acknowledged, “ I may be a
fool, but I don't see what she can have to say on this
subject. It is impossible she should know any thing
about the murder; and, as for this Mansell " He

made a violent gesture with his hand, as if the very idea
of her having any acquaintance with the nephew of Mrs.
Clemmens were simply preposterous.
The District Attorney, who saw from this how utterly
ignorant the other was concerning Miss Dare's relations
to the person named, felt his embarrassment increase.
“ Mr. Orcutt," he replied, “strange as it may appear
to you, Miss Dare has testimony to give of value to the
prosecution, or she would not be reckoned among its
witnesses. What that testimony is, I must leave to her
discretion to make known to you, as she doubtless will,
if you question her with sufficient consideration. I
never forestall matters myself, nor would you wish me to
tell you what would more becomingly come from her
own lips. But, Mr. Orcutt, this I can say: that if it had
been given me to choose between the two alternatives of
resigning my oflice and of pursuing an inquiry which
obliges me to submit to the unpleasantness of a judicial
investigation a person held in so much regard by your-


..’__ 4'4-
284 HAND AND RING.
self, I would have given up my office with pleasure, so
keenly do I feel the embarrassment of my position and
the unhappiness of yours. But any mere resignation on
my part would have availed nothing to save Miss Dare
from appearing before the Grand Jury. The evidence
she has to give in this matter makes the case against
Mansell as strong as that against Hildreth, and it would
be the duty of any public prosecutor to recognize the
fact and act accordingly."
Mr. Orcutt, who had by the greatest effort succeeded .
in calming himself through this harangue, flashed sarcas-
tically at this last remark, and surveyed Mr. Ferris with
a peculiar look.
“Are you sure," he inquired in a slow, ironical tone,
“that she has not succeeded in making it stronger?” .
The look, the tone, were unexpected, and greatly
startled Mr. Ferris. Drawing nearer to his friend, he
returned his gaze with marked earnestness.
“What do you mean ? ” he asked, with secret anxiety.
But the wary lawyer had already repented this unwise
betrayal of his own doubts. Meeting his companion's
eye with a calmness that amazed himself, he remarked,
instead of answering :
“It was through Miss Dare, then, that your attention
was first drawn to Mrs. Clemmens' nephew ?"
“No," disclaimed Mr. Ferris, hastily. “The detec-
tives already had their eyes upon him. But a hint from
her went far toward determining me upon pursuing the


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 285
matter," he allowed, seeing that his friend was deter-
mined upon hearing the truth.
“So then," observed the other, with a stern dryness
that recalled his manner at the bar, “ she opened a com-
munication with you herself ? ”
“ Yes."
It was enough. Mr. Orcutt dropped the arm of Mr.
Ferris, and, with his usual hasty bow, turned shortly
away. The revelation which he believed himself to have
received in this otherwise far from satisfactory interview,
was one that he could not afford to share—that is, not
yet ; not while any hope remained that circumstances
would so arrange themselves as to make it unnecessary
for him to do so. If Imogene Dare, out of her insane de-
sire to free Gouverneur Hildreth from the suspicion that
oppressed him, had resorted to perjury and invented evi-
dence tending to show the guilt of another party—and
remembering her admissions at their last interview and
the language she had used in her letter of farewell, no
other conclusion offered itself,—what alternative was left
him but to wait till he had seen her before he proceeded
to an interference that would separate her from himself
by a gulf still greater than that which already existed be-
tween them ? To be sure, the jealousy which consumed
him, the passionate rage that seized his whole being when
he thought of all she dared do for the man she loved,
or that he thought she loved, counselled him to nip this
attempt of hers in the bud, and by means of a word to Mr.


286 HAND AND RING.
Ferris throw such a doubt upon her veracity as a witness
against this new party as should greatly influence the ac-
tion of the former in the critical business he had in hand.
But Mr. Orcutt, while a prey to unwonted passions, had
not yet lost control of his reason, and reason told him
that impulse was an unsafe guide for him to follow at this
time. Thought alone—deep and concentrated thought—
. would help him out of this crisis with honor and safety.
But thought would not come at call. In all his quick
walk home but one mad sentence formulated itself in his
brain, and that was : “ She loves him so, she is willing to
perjure herself for his sake! " Nor, though he entered
his door with his usual bustling air and went through all
the customary observances of the hour with an appear-
ance of no greater abstraction and gloom than had char-
acterized him ever since the departure of Miss Dare, no
other idea obtruded itself upon his mind than this : “ She
loves him so, she is willing to perjure herself for his
sake !”
Even the sight of his books, his papers, and all that
various paraphernalia of work and study which gives
character to a lawyer's library, was insuflicient to restore
his mind to its usual condition of calm thought and ac-
curate judgment. Not till the clock struck eight and he
found himself almost without his own volition at Profes-
sor Darling's house, did he realize all the difficulties of
his position and the almost intolerable nature of the
undertaking which had been forced upon him by the
exigencies of the situation.


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 287
Miss Dare, who had refused to see him at first, came
into his presence with an expression that showed him with
what reluctance she had finally responded to his per-
emptory message. But in the few heavy moments he had
been obliged to wait, he had schooled himself to expect
coldness if not absolute rebuff. He therefore took no
heed of the haughty air of inquiry which she turned upon
him, but came at once to the point, saying almost be-
fore she had closed the door:
“What is this you have been doing, Imogene?"
A flush, such as glints across the face of a marble
statue, visited for a moment the still whiteness of her set
features, then she replied :
“ Mr. Orcutt, when I left your house I told you I had
a wretched and unhappy duty to perform, that, when
once accomplished, would separate us forever. I have
done it, and the separation has come; why attempt to
bridge it ? "
There was a sad weariness in her tone, a sad weariness
in her face, but he seemed to recognize neither. The
demon jealousy—that hindrance to all unselfish feeling-
had gripped him again, and the words that came to his
lips were at once bitter and masterful.
“ Imogene," he cried, with as much wrath in his tone
as he had ever betrayed in her presence, “you do not
answer my question. I ask you what you have been
doing, and you reply, your duty. Now, what do you
mean by duty? Tell me at once and distinctly, for I


288 HAND AND RING.
__IH “-._
will no longer be put off by any roundabout phrases con-
cerning a matter of such vital importance."
“ Tell you ? " This repetition of his words had a
world of secret anguish in it which he could not help but
notice. She did not succumb to it, however, but con-
tinued in another moment : “ You said to me, in the last
conversation we held together, that Gouverneur Hildreth
could not be released from his terrible position without a
distinct proof of innocence or the advancement of such
evidence against another as should turn suspicion aside
from him into a new and more j ustifiable quarter. I
could not, any more than he, give a distinct proof of his
innocence; but I could furnish the authorities with testi-
mony calculated to arouse suspicion in a fresh direction,
and I did it. For Gouverneur Hildreth had to be saved
at any price-—at any price."
The desparing emphasis she laid upon the last phrase
went like hot steel to Mr. Orcutt's heart, and made his
eyes blaze with almost uncontrollable passion.
“ :7: ne 1101': pas la nece.m'l ," said he, in that low, re-
strained tone of bitter sarcasm which made his invective
so dreaded by opposing counsel. “If Gouverneur Hil-
dreth finds himself in an unfortunate position, he has
only his own follies and inordinate desire for this woman's
death to thank for it. Because you love him and com-
passionate him beyond all measure, that is no reason why
you should perjure yourself, and throw the burden of his
shame upon a man as innocent as Mr. Mansell."


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 289
But this tone, though it had made many a witness quail
before it, neither awed nor intimidated her.
“ You—you do not understand," came from her white
lips. “ It is Mr. Hildreth who is perfectly innocent, and
Q!
not But here she paused. “You will excuse me
from saying more," she said. “ You, as a lawyer, ought
to know that I should not be compelled to speak on a
subject like this except under oath."
“Imogene ! " A change had passed over Mr. Orcutt.
“Imogene, do you mean to afiirm that you really have
charges to make against Craik Mansell ; that this evidence
you propose to give is real, and not manufactured for the
purpose of leading suspicion aside from Hildreth ? ”
It was an insinuation against her veracity he never
could have made, or she have listened to, a few weeks be-
fore; but the shield of her pride was broken between
them, and neither he nor she seemed to give any thought
to the reproach conveyed in these words.
“What I have to say is the truth," she murmured.
“ I have not manufactured any thing."
With an astonishment he took.no pains to conceal, Mr.
Orcutt anxiously surveyed her. He could not believe
this was so, yet how could he convict her of falsehood in
face of that suffering expression of resolve which she
wore. His methods as a lawyer came to his relief.
“ Imogene," he slowly responded, “ if, as you say, you
a're in possessionof positive evidence against this Mansell,
how comes it that you jeopardized the interests of the


... . ..-.--___,. .
290 HAND AND RING.
man you loved by so long withholding your testi-
mony ? " '
But instead of the flush of confusion which he ex-
pected, she flashed upon him with a sudden revelation of
feeling that made him involuntarily start.
“Shall I tell you?" she replied. “You will have to
know some time, and why not now ? I kept back the
truth," she replied, advancing a step, but without raising
her eyes to his, “because it is not the aspersed Hildreth
that I love, but "
Why did she pause ? What was it she found so hard
to speak ? Mr. Orcutt's expression became terrible.
“But the other," she murmured at last.
“ The other ! "
It was now her turn to start and look at him in sur-

prise, if not in some fear.
“What other?" he cried, seizing her by the hand.
“Name him. I will have no further misunderstanding
between us."
“ Is it necessary ? ” she asked, with bitterness. “.Will
Heaven spare me nothing?" Then, as she saw no re-
lenting in the fixed gaze that held her own, whispered, in
a hollow tone: “ You have just spoken the name yourself
—Craik Mansell."
“ Ah ! "
Incredulity, anger, perplexity, all the emotions that
were seething in this man's troubled soul, spoke in that
simple exclamation. Then silence settled upon the room,


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 291
during which she gained control over herself, and he the
semblance of it if no more. She was the first to speak.
“I know," said she, “that this avowal on my part
seems almost incredible to you ; but it is no more so than
that which you so readily received from me the other day
in reference to Gouverneur Hildreth. A woman who
spends a month away from home makes acquaintances
which she does not always mention when she comes
back. I saw Mr. Mansell in Buffalo, and—-" turning,
she confronted the lawyer with her large gray eyes, in
which a fire burned such as he had never seen there
before—“ and grew to esteem him," she went on. “ For
the first time in my life I found myself in the presence of
aman whose nature commanded mine. His ambition,
his determination, his unconventional and forcible char-
acter woke aspirations within me such as I had never
known myself capable of before. Life, which had
stretched out before me with a somewhat monotonous
outlook, changed to a panorama of varied and wonderful
experiences, as I listened to his voice and met the glance
of his eye; and soon, before he knew it, and certainly
before I realized it, words of love passed between us, and
the agony of that struggle began which has ended——-
Ah, let me not think how, or I shall go mad ! "
Mr. Orcutt, who had watched her with a lover's fas-
cination during all this attempted explanation, shivered
for a moment at this last bitter cry of love and despair,
but spoke up when he did speak, with a coldness that
verged on severity.


292 HAND AND RING.
“So you loved another man when you came back to
my home and listened to the words of passion which
came from my lips, and the hopes of future bliss and
happiness that welled up from my heart ? "
“Yes," she whispered, “ and, as you will remember, I .
tried to suppress those hopes and turn a deaf ear to those
words, though I had but little prospect of marrying a
man whose fortunes depended upon the success of an in. .
vention he could persuade no one to believe in."
“ Yet you brought yourself to listen to those hopes on
the afternoon of the murder," he suggested, ironically.
“ Can you blame me for that ? ” she cried, “remember-
ing how you pleaded, and what a revulsion of feeling I
was laboring under ? ”
A smile bitter as the fate which loomed before him,
and scornful as the feelings that secretly agitated his
breast, parted Mr. Orcutt's pale lips for an instant, and
he seemed about to give utterance to some passionate re-
joinder, but he subdued himself with a determined effort,
and quietly waiting till his voice was under full control,
remarked with lawyer.like brevity at last:
“You have not told me what evidence you have to
give against young Mansell ? "
Her answer came with equal brevity if not equal
quietness.
“ No ; I have told Mr. Ferris ; is not that enough?"
But he did not consider it so. “Ferris is a District
Attorney," said he, “ and has demanded your confidence


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 293
for the purposes of justice, while I am your friend. The
action you have taken is peculiar, and you may need
advice. But'how can I give it or how can you receive it
unless there is a complete understanding between us ?”
Struck in spite of herself, moved perhaps by a hope she
had not allowed herself to contemplate before, she looked
at him long and earnestly.
“ And do you really wish to help me ? " she inquired.
“ Areyou so generous as to forgive the pain, and possi-
bly the humiliation, I have inflicted upon you, and lend
me your assistance in case my testimony works its due
effect, and he be brought to trial instead of Mr. Hil-
dreth ? " '
It was a searching and a pregnant question, for which
Mr. Orcutt was possibly not fully prepared, but his newly '
gained control did not give way.
“ I must insist upon hearing the facts before I say any
thing of my intentions," he averred. “Whatever they
may be, they cannot be more startling in their character
than those which have been urged against Hildreth."
“But they are," she whispered. Then with a quick
look around her, she put her mouth close to Mr. Orcutt's
ear and breathed :
“Mr. Hildreth is not the only man who, unseen by the
neighbors, visited Mrs. Clemmens' house on the morning
of the murder. Craik Mansell was there also."
“ Craik Mansell ! How do you know that? Ah," he
pursued, with the scornful intonation of a jealous man,
“ I forgot that you are lovers."


_.a-- we
294 HAND AND RING.
The sneer, natural as it was, perhaps, seemed to go to
her heart and wake its fiercest indignation.
“ Hush," cried she, towering upon him with an omi-
nous flash of her proud eye. “ Do not tur n the knife in
t/zat wound or you will seal my lips forever." And she
moved hastily away from his side. But in another in-
stant she determinedly returned, saying : “ This is no
time for indulging in one's sensibilities. I affirm that
Craik Mansell visited his aunt on that day, because the
ring which was picked up on the floor of her dining.room
—you remember the ring, Mr. Orcutt?"
Remember it ! Did he not ? All his many perplexities
in its regard crowded upon him as he made a hurried bow
of acquiescence.
“ It belonged to him," she continued. “ He had
bought it for me, or, rather, had had the diamond reset
for me—it had been his mother's. Only the day before,
he had tried to put it on my finger in a meeting we had
in the woods back of his aunt's house. But I refused to
allow him. The prospect ahead was too dismal and un-
relenting for us to betroth ourselves, whatever our hopes
or wishes might be."
“ You—you had a meeting with this man in the woods
the day before his aunt was assaulted," echoed Mr. Or-
cutt, turning upon her with an amazement that swallowed
up his wrath.
“ Yes.”
“ And he afterward visited her house ?"


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 295
"Yes."
“And dropped that ring there?”
“ Yes."
Starting slowly, as if the thoughts roused by this short
statement of facts were such as demanded instant con-
sideration, Mr. Orcutt walked to the other side of the
room, where he paced up and down in silence for some
minutes. When he returned it was the lawyer instead of
the lover who stood before her.
“ Then, it was the simple fact of finding this gentle-
man's ring on the floor of Mrs. Clemmens' dining.room
that makes you consider him the murderer of his aunt ? "
he asked, with a tinge of something like irony in his
tone.
“No," she breathed rather than answered. “That
was aproof, of course, that he had been there, but I
should never have thought of it as an evidence of guilt
if the woman herself had not uttered, in our hearing
that tell.tale exclamation of ‘ Ring and Hand,' and if, in
the talk I held with Mr. Mansell the day before, he had
not betrayed——— Why do you stop me?" she whis-
pered. .
“ I did not stop you," he hastily assured her. “I am
too anxious to hear what you have to say. Go on, Imo-
gene. What did this Mansell betray? I-I ask as a
father might," he added, with some dignity and no little
effort.
But her fears had taken alarm, or her caution been
aroused, and she merely said :


296 HAND AND RING.
“The five thousand dollars which his aunt leaves him
is just the amount he desired to start him in life."
“ Did he wish such an amount ? " Mr. Orcutt asked.
“ Very much."
“ And acknowledged it in the conversation he had with
you ?"
“ Yes."
“ Imogene," declared the lawyer, “if you do not want
to insure Mr. Mansell's indictment, I would suggest to
you not to lay too great stress upon any talk you may
have held with him."
But she cried with unmoved sternness, and a relentless
crushing don of all emotion that was at once amazing
and painful to see :
“ The innocent is to be saved from the gallows, no
matter what the fate of the guilty may be."
And a short but agitated silence followed which Mr.
Orcutt broke at last by saying :
“ Are these all the facts you have to give me ? "
She started, cast him a quick look, bowed her head,
and replied :
“ Yes."
There was something in the tone of this assertion that
made him repeat his question.
“ Are these all the facts you have to give me ? "
Her answer came ringing and emphatic now.
“ Yes," she avowed—“ all."
With a look of relief, slowly smoothing out the deep


THE WEAVING OF A WEB.
furrows of his brow, Mr. Orcutt, for the second time,
walked thoughtfully away in evident consultation with his
own thoughts. This time he was gone so long, the sus-
pense became almost intolerable to Imogene. Feeling
that she could endure it no longer, she followed him at
last, and laid her hand upon his arm.
“ Speak," she impetuously cried. “ Tell me what you
think ; what I have to expect."
But he shook his head.
“Wait," he returned; “wait till the Grand ]ury has
brought in a bill of indictment. It will, doubtless, be
against one of these two men ; but I must know which,
before I can say or do any thing."
“And do you think there can be any doubt about
which of these two it will be ?" she inquired, with sudden
emotion.
“ There is always doubt," he rejoined, “ about any thing
or every thing a body of men may do. This is a very
remarkable case, Imogene," he resumed, with increased
sombreness; “the most remarkable one, perhaps, that
has ever come under my observation. What the Grand
Jury will think of it ; upon which party, Mansell or Hil-
dreth, the weight of their suspicion will fall, neither I nor
Ferris, nor any other man, can prophesy with any assur-
ance. The evidence against both is, in so far as we know,
entirely circumstantial. That you believe Mr. Mansell

to be the guilty party "
“ Believe ! ” she murmured ; “ I know it."
“ That you belie:/e him to be the guilty party," the wary


298 HAND AND RING.
lawyer pursued, as if he had not heard her, “does not
imply that they will believe it too. Hildreth comes of a
bad stock, and his late attempt at suicide tells wonder-
fully against hirn; yet, the facts you have to give in
Mansell's disfavor are-strong also, and Heaven only
knows what the upshot will be. However, a few weeks
will determine all that, and then " Pausing, he
looked at her, and, as he did so, the austerity and self-
command of the lawyer vanished out of sight, and the
passionate gleam of a fierce and overmastering love
shone again in his eyes. “ And then," he cried, “then
we will see what Tremont Orcutt can do to bring order
out of this chaos."
There was so much resolve in his look, such a hint of
promise in his tone, that she flushed with something
almost akin to hope.
“Oh, generous ” she began.
But he stopped her before she could say more.
“Wait," he repeated; “wait till we see what action
will be taken by the Grand Jury." And taking her hand,
he looked earnestly, if not passionately, in her face.
“Imogene," he commenced, “if I should succeed ”
But there he himself stopped short with a quick recalling
of his own words, perhaps. “ No," he cried, “I will say
no more till we see which of these two men is to be
brought to trial." And, pressing her hand to his lips, he
gave her one last look in which was concentrated all the
secret passions which had been called forth by this hour,
and hastily left the room.


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 299
XXIV.
A TRUE BILL.
Come to me, friend or foe,
And tell me who is victor, York or Warwick.—HsNRv VI.
HE town of Sibley was in a state of excitement.
T About the court.house especially the crowd was
great and the interest manifested intense. The Grand
Jury was in session, and the case of the Widow Clem-
mens' was before it.
As all the proceedings of this body are private, the
suspense of those interested in the issue was naturally
very great. The name of the man lastly suspected of the
crime had' transpired, and both Hildreth and Mansell
had their partisans, though the mystery surrounding the
latter made his friends less forward in asserting his inno-
cence than those of the more thoroughly understood Hil-
dreth. Indeed, the ignorance felt on all sides as to the
express reasons for associating the name of Mrs. Clem-
mens' nephew with his aunt's murder added much to the
significance of the hour. Conjectures were plenty and
the wonder great, but the causes why this man, or any
other, should lie under a suspicion equal to that raised
against Hildreth at the inquest was a mystery that none
could solve.


300 HAND AND RING.
But what is the curiosity of the rabble to us? Our in-
terest is in a little room far removed from this scene of
excitement, where the young daughter of Professor
Darling kneels by the side of Imogene Dare, striving by
caress and entreaty to win a word from her lips or a.
glance from her heavy eyes.
“Imogene," she pleaded,—“ Imogene, what is this
terrible grief? Why did you have to go to the court-
house this morning with papa, and why have you been
almost dead with terror and misery ever since you got
back? Tell me, or I shall perish of mere fright. For
weeks now, ever since you were so good as to help me
with my wedding.clothes, I have seen that something
dreadful was weighing upon your mind, but this which
you are; suffering now is awful; this I cannot bear. Can-
not you speak,.dear? Words will do you good."
“ Words ! ”
Oh, the despair, the bitterness of that single exclama-
tion ! Miss Darling drew back in dismay. As if released,
Imogene rose to her feet and surveyed the sweet and in-
genuous countenance uplifted to her own, with a look of
faint recognition of the womanly sympathy it conveyed.
“Helen,” she resumed, “you are happy. Don't stay
here with me, but go where there are cheerfulness and
hope."
“But I cannot while you suffer so. I love you,
Imogene. Would you drive me away from your side
when you are so unhappy? You don't care for me as I
do for you or you could not do it,"


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 30[
“Helen ! ” The deep tone made the sympathetic lit-
tle bride.elect quiver. “ Helen, some griefs are best
borne alone. Only a few hours now and I shall know
the worst. Leave me."
But the gentle little creature was not to be driven away.
She only clung the closer and pleaded the more earnestly:
“ Tell me, tell me ! "
The reiteration of this request was too much for the
pallid woman before her. Laying her two hands on the
shoulders of this child, she drew back and looked her ear-
nestly in the face.
“Helen.," she cried, “ what do you know of earthly
anguish ? A petted child, the favorite of happy fortune,
you have been kept from evil as from a blight. None of
the annoyances of life have been allowed to enter
your path, much less its griefs and sins. Terror with you
is but a name, remorse an unknown sensation. Even
your love has no depths in it such as suffering gives. Yet,
since you do love, and love well, perhaps you can under-
stand something of what a human soul can endure who
sees its only hope and only love tottering above a gulf
too horrible for words to describe—a gulf, too, which her
own hand————— But no, I cannot tell you. I overrated

my strength. I "
She sank back, but the next moment started again to
her feet :- a servant had opened the door.
“What is it ! " she exclaimed ; “speak, tell me."
“ Only a gentleman to see you, miss."


302 HAND AND RING.
“ Only a——" But she stopped in that vain repetition
of the girl's simple words, and looked at her as if she
would force from her lips the name she had not the cour-
age to demand ; but, failing to obtain it, turned away to
the glass, where she quietly smoothed her hair and ad-
justed the lace at her throat, and then catching sight of
the tear.stained face of Helen, stooped and gave her a
kiss, after which she moved mechanically to the door and
went down those broad flights, one after one, till she came
to the parlor, when she went in and encountered—Mr.
Orcutt.
A glance at his face told her all she wanted to know.
“Ah ! ” she gasped, “it is then "
“ Mansell ! "
It was five minutes later. Imogene leaned against the
window where she had withdrawn herself at the utterance
of that one word. Mr. Orcutt stood a couple of paces
behind her.
“ Imogene," said he, “there is a question I would like

to have you answer."
The feverish agitation expressed in his tone made her
look around.
“ Put it," she mechanically replied.
But he did not find it easy to do this, while her eyes
rested upon him in such despair. He felt, however, that
the doubt in his mind must be satisfied at all hazards ; so
choking down an emotion that was almost as boundless as
her own, he ventured to ask :


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 303
“ Is it among the possibilities that you could ever
again contemplate giving yourself in marriage to Craik
Mansell, no matter what the issue of the coming trial may
be ? ”
A shudder quick and powerful as that which follows the
withdrawal of a dart from an agonizing wound shook her
whole frame for a moment, but she answered, steadily :
“ No ; how can you ask, Mr. Orcutt ?"
A gleam of relief shot across his somewhat haggard
features.
“ Then," said he, “ it will be no treason in me to assure
you that never has my love been greater for you than to-
day. That to save you from the pain which you are suf-
fering, I would sacrifice every thing, even my pride. If,
therefore, there is any kindness I can show you, any deed
I can perform for your sake, I. am ready to attempt it,
Imogene.
“Would you—” she hesitated, but gathered courage
as she met his eye—“ would you be willing to go to him
with a message from me ?”
His glance fell and his lips took a line that startled
Imogene, but his answer, though given with bitterness
was encouraging.
“ Yes," he returned ; “ even that."
“ Then," she cried, “tell him that to save the innocent,
I had to betray the guilty, but in doing this I did not
spare myself; that whatever his doom may be, I shall
share it, even though it be that of death."


$04 HAND AND RING.
“ Imogene ! "
“ Will you tell him ?” she asked.
But he would not have been a man, much less a lover,
if he could answer that question now. Seizing her by the
arm, he looked her wildly in the face.
“ Do you mean to kill yourself ? ” he demanded.
“ I feel I shall not live," she gasped, while her hand
went involuntarily to her heart.
He gazed at her in horror.
“And if he is cleared ? ” he hoarsely ejaculated.
“ I—I shall try to endure my fate."
He gave her another long, long look.
“ So this is the alternative you give me ?" he bitterly
exclaimed. “I must either save this man or see you
perish. Well," he declared, after a few minutes' further
contemplation of her face, “I will save this man—that is,
if he will allow me to do so."
A flash of joy such as he had not perceived on her
countenance for weeks transformed its marble-like severity
into something of its pristine beauty.
“ And you will take him my message also?" she cried.
But to this he shook his head.
“ If I am to approach him as a lawyer willing to under-
take his cause, don't you see I can give him no such
message as that ? ”
“ Ah, yes, yes. But you can tell him Imogene Dare
has risked her own life and happiness to save the inno-
cent."


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 305
“ I will tell him whatever I can to show your pity and
your misery."
And she had to content herself with this. In the light
of the new hope that was thus unexpectedly held out to
her, it did not seem so difficult. Giving Mr. Orcutt her
hand, she endeavored to thank him, but the reaction from
her long suspense was too much, and, for the first time
in her brave young life, Imogene lost consciousness and
fainted quite away.


306 HAND AND RING.
XXV.
AMONG TELESCOPES AND CHARTS.
'1‘arry a lEttle—there is something else.—MnRcHAN'r or Vnmca.
OUVERNEUR HILDRETH was discharged
Q and Craik Mansell committed to prison to await
his trial.
Horace Byrd, who no longer had any motive for re-
maining in Sibley, had completed all his preparations to
return to New York. His valise was packed, his adieus
made, and nothing was left for him to do but to step
around to the station, when he bethought him of a cer-
tain question he had not put to Hickory.
Seeking him out, he propounded it.
“ Hickory," said he, “have you ever discovered in the
course of your inquiries where Miss Dare was on the
morning of the murder? "
The stalwart detective, who was in a very contented
frame of mind, answered up with great cheeriness :
“Have n't I, though! It was one of the very first
things I made sure of. She was at Professor Darling's
house on Summer Avenue."
“At Professor Darling's house ?” Mr. Byrd felt =-
sensation of dismay. Professor Darling's house was, as
you remember, in almost direct communication with


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 307
Mrs. Clemmens' cottage by means of a path through the
woods. As Mr. Byrd recalled his first experience in
threading those woods, and remembered with what. sud-
denness he had emerged from them only to find himself
in full view of the West Side and Professor Darling's
spacious villa, he stared uneasily at his colleague and
said :
“Itis train time, Hickory, but I cannot help that.
Before I leave this town I must know just what she was
doing on that morning, and'whom she was with. Can
you find out ?"
“ Can [find out? "
The hardy detective was out of the door before the
last word of this scornful repetition had left his lips.
He was gone an hour. When he returned he looked
very much excited.
“ Well ! ” he ejaculated, breathlessly, “I have had an
experience."
Mr. Byrd gave him a look, saw something he did not
like in his face, and moved uneasily in his chair.
“ You have ?" he retorted. “ What is it? Speak."
“ Do you know," the other resumed, “that the hardest
thing I ever had to do was to keep my head down in the
hut the other day, and deny myself a look at the woman
who could bear herself so bravely in the midst of a scene
so terrible. Well," he went on, “ I have to.day been re-
warded for my self.control. I have seen Miss Dare."
Hoface Byrd could scarcely restrain his impatience.


308 HAND AND RING.
“Where?” he demanded. “How? Tell a fellow,
can't you ? ”
“I am going to," protested Hickory. “Cannot you
wait a minute? I had to wait forty. Well," he con-
tinued more pleasantly as he saw the other frown, “I
went to Professor Darling's. There is a girl there I have
talked to before, and I had no difficulty in seeing her or
getting a five minutes' chat with her at the back.gate.
Odd how such girls will talk! She told me in three
minutes all I wanted to know. Not that it was so much,
only-——"
“Do get on," interrupted Mr. Byrd. “ When did Miss
Dare come to the house on the morning Mrs. Clemmens
was murdered, and what did she do while there ?”
“ She came early; by ten o'clock or so, I believe, and
she sat, if she did sit, in an observatory they have at the
top of the house: a place where she often used to go, I
am told, to study astronomy with Professor Darling's
oldest daughter."
“ And was Miss Darling with her that morning ? Did
they study together all the time she was in the house?”
“ No; tlzat is, the girl said no one went up to the ob-
servatory with Miss Dare; that Miss Darling did not
happen to be at home that day, and Miss Dare had to
study alone. Hearing this," pursued Hickory, answering
the look of impatience in the other's face, “I had a
curiosity to interview the observatory, and being—well,
not a clumsy fellow at softsoaping a girl—I at last suc-


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 309
ceeded in prevailing upon her to take me up. Byrd, will
you believe me when I tell you that we did it without go-
ing into the house ?"
“ What ?”
“ I mean,"
corrected the other, “without entering the
main part of the building. The profess0r's house has a
tower, you know, at the upper angle toward the woods,
and it' is in the top of that tower he keeps his telescopes
and all that kind of thing. The tower has a special
staircase of its own. It is a spiral one, and opens on
a door below that connects directly with the garden.
We went up these stairs."
“You dared to ?"
“Yes; the girl assured me every one was out of the
house but the servants, and I believed her. We went up
the stairs, entered the observatory.—"
“ It is not kept locked, then ? "
“ It was not locked to.day—saw the room, which is a
curious one—glanced out over the view, which is well

worth seeing, and then
“Well, what ? "
“ I believe I stood still and asked the girl a question or
two more. I inquired," he went on, deprecating the
other's impatience by a wave of his nervous hand, “ when
Miss Dare came down from this place on the morning
you remember. She answered that she could n't quite
tell ; that she would n't have remembered any thing about
it at all, only that Miss Tremaine came to the house that


3IO HAND AND RING.
morning, and wanting to see Miss Dare, ordered her to
go up to the observatory and tell that lady to come down,
and that she went, but to her surprise did not find Miss
Dare there, though she was sure she had not gone home,
or, at least, had n't taken any of the cars that start from
the front of the house, for she had looked at them every
one as they went by the basement window where she was
at work."
“ The girl said this ? ” '
“Yes, standing in the door of this small room, and
looking me straight in the eye."
“And did you ask her nothing more ? Say nothing about
the time, Hickory, or—or inquire where she supposed
Miss Dare to have gone ?"
“Yes, I asked her all this. I am not without curiosity
any more than you are, Mr. Byrd."
“ And she replied?"
“ Oh, as to the time, that it was somewhere before noon.
Her reason for being sure of this was that Miss Tremaine
declined to wait till another effort had been made to find
Miss Dare, saying she had an engagement at twelve which
she did not wish to brea ."
“And the girl's notions about where Miss Dare had
gone ? ”
“Such as you expect, Byrd. She said she did not
know any thing about it, but that Miss Dare often went
strolling in the garden, or even in the woods when she
came to Professor Darling's house, and that she supposed


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 3!!
she had gone off on some such walk at this time, for, at
one o'clock or thereabouts, she saw her pass in the
horse.car on her way back to the town.”
“Hickory, I wish you had not told me this just as I am
going back to the city."
“Wish I had not told it, or wish I had not gone to
Professor Darling's house as you requested T"
“Wish you had not told it. I dare not wish the other.
But you spoke of seeing Miss Dare ; how was that?
Where did you run across her? "
“ Do you want to hear ? ”
“ Of course, of course."
“ But I though "
“ Oh, never mind, old boy ; tell me the whole now, as
long as you have told me any. Was she in the

house ? " _
“ I will tell you. I had asked the girl all these ques-
tions, as I have said, and was about to leave the observa-
tory and go below when I thought I would cast another
glance around the curious old place, and in doing so
caught a glimpse of a huge.- portfolio of charts, as I
supposed, standing upright in a rack that stretched
across the further portion of the room. Somehow my
heart misgave me when I saw this rack, and, scarcely
conscious what it was I feared, I crossed the floor and
looked behind the portfolio. Byrd, there was a woman
crouched there—.—a woman whose pallid cheeks and
burning eyes lifted to meet my own, told -me only too


312 ‘ HAND AND RING.
plainly that it was Miss Dare. I have had many ex-
periences," Hickory allowed, after a moment, “and
some of them any thing but pleasant to myself, but I
don't think I ever felt just as I did at that instant. I
believe I attempted a bow—I don't remember; or, at
least, tried to murmur some excuse, but the look that
came into her face paralyzed me, and I stopped before
I had gotten very far, and waited to hear what she
would say. But she did not say much; she merely
rose, and, turning toward me, exclaimed: ‘No apolo-
gies; you are a detective, I suppose?' And when I
nodded, or made some other token that she had guessed
correctly, she merely remarked, flashing upon me, how-
ever, in a way I do not yet understand: ‘ Well, you
have got what you desired, and now can go.' And I
went, Byrd, went; and I felt puzzled, I don't know
why, and a little bit sore about the heart, too, as
ifi Well, I can't even tell what I mean by that zf.
The only thing I am sure of is, that Mansell's cause
has n't been helped by this day's job, and that if this
lady is asked on the witness stand where she was dur-
ing the hour every one believed her to be safely shut

up with the telescopes and charts, we shall hear
“What ? "
.“ Well, that she was shut up with them, most likely.
Women like her are not to be easily disconcerted even on
the witness stand." "


THE WEAVING OF A WEB. 313
XXVI.
“HE SHALL HEAR ME ! "
There 's some ill planet reigns ;
I must be patient till the heavens look
With an aspect more favorable.—WIN'rnR's TALE.
HE time is midnight, the day the same as that
which saw this irruption of Hickory into Pro-
fessor Darling's observatory; the scene that of Miss
Dare's own room in the northeast tower. She is stand-
ing before a table witha letter in her hand and a look
upon her face that, if seen, would have added much to
the puzzlement of the detectives.
The letter was from Mr. Orcutt and ran thus :
I have seen Mr. Mansell, and have engaged myself to undertake
his defence. When I tell you that out of the hundreds of cases I
have tried in my still short life, I have lost but a small percentage,
you will understand what this means.
In pursuance to your wishes, I mentioned your name to the
prisoner with an intimation that I had a message from you to deliver.
But he stopped me before I could utter a word. " I receive no com-
munication from Miss Dare l " he declared, and, anxious as I really
was to do your bidding, I was compelled to refrain ; for his tone was
one of hatred and his look that of ineflable scorn.
This was all, but it was enough. Imogene had read
these words over three times, and now was ready to


4_--_¢un
3X4 HAND AND RING.
plunge the letter into the flame of a candle to destroy it.
As it burned, her grief and indignation took words :
“ He is alienated, completely alienated," she gasped;
“ and I do not wonder. But," and here the full majesty
of her nature broke forth in one grand gesture, “ he shall
hear me ye.t ! As there is a God above, he shall hear me
yet, even if it has to be in the open court and in the
presence of judge and jury l "


BOOK III.
THE SCALES OF JUSTICE.
XXVII.
THE GREAT TRIAL-
Ot/z:Zlo.—Whs.t dost thou think?
Iagu.— Think, my lord?
0tlzzl1a.—By heav'n, he echoes me,
As if there was some monster in his thought
Too hideous to be Sh0WD.—O'IHELL0.
IBLEY was in a stir. Sibley was the central point
S of interest for the whole country. The great trial
was in progress and the curiosity of the populace knew
no bounds.
In a room of the hotel sat our two detectives. They
had just come from the court.house. Both seemed in-
clined to talk, though both showed an indisposition to
open the conversation. A hesitation lay between them ;
a certain thin vail of embarrassment that either one would
have found it hard to explain, and yet which sufliced to
make their intercourse a trifle uncertain in its character,
though Hickory's look had lost none of its rude good-
humor, and Byrd's manner was the same mixture of easy
nonchalance and quiet self.possession it had always been.
It was Hickory who spoke at last.
315


316 HAND AND RING.
“ Well, Byrd ?" was his suggestive exclamation.
“ Well, Hickory ? " was the quiet reply.
“What do you think of the case so far? "
“ I think ”—the words came somewhat slowly—“ I
think that it looks bad. Bad for the prisoner, I mean,”
he explained the next moment with a quick flush.
“ Your sympathies are evidently with Mansell,"
Hickory quietly remarked.
“ Yes," was the slow reply. “ Not that I think him in-
nocent, or would turn a hair's breadth from the truth to
serve him." .
“He is a manly fellow," Hickory bluntly admitted,
after a moment's puff at the pipe he was smoking.
“ Do you remember the peculiar straightforwardness of
his look when he uttered his plea of ‘ Not guilty,' and the
tone he used too, so quiet, yet so emphatic ? You could
have heard a pin drop."
“Yes," returned Mr. Byrd, with a quick contraction of
his usually smooth brow.
“Have you noticed," the other broke forth, after
another puff, “a certain curious air of disdain that he
wears ?"
“ Yes," was again the short reply.
“I wonder what it means ?" queried Hickory, care-
lessly, knocking the ashes out of his pipe.
Mr. Byrd flashed a quick askance look at his col-
league from under his half.fallen lids, but made no
answer.


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 317
“ It is not pride alone," resumed the rough.and.ready
detective, half.musingly ; “ though he 's as proud as the -
best of ‘em. Neither is it any sort of make.believe, or I
would n't be caught by it. 'T is—'t is.-—what?" And
Hickory rubbed his nose with his thoughtful forefinger,
and looked inquiringly at Mr. Byrd.
“How should I know?" remarked the other, tossing
his stump of a cigar into the fire. “ Mr. Mansell is too
deep a problem for me."
“And Miss Dare too ?"
“And Miss Dare."
Silence followed this admission, which Hickory broke
at last by observing:
“The day that sees her on the witness stand will be in-
teresting, eh ?"
“It is not far off," declared Mr. Byrd.
“ No ? "
“ I think she will be called as a witness to.morrow."
“Have you noticed," began Hickory again, after an-
other short interval of quiet contemplation, “ that it is
only when Miss Dare is present» that Mansell wears the
look of scorn I have just mentioned." '
“ Hickory," said.Mr. Byrd, wheeling directly about in
his chair and for the first time surveying his colleague
squarely, “ I have noticed t/zir. That ever since the day
she made her first appearance in the court.room, she has
sat with her eyes fixed earnestly upon the prisoner, and
that he has never answered her look by so much as a


318 HAND AND RING.
glance in her direction. This has but one explanation as
I take it. He never forgets that it is through her he has
been brought to trial for his life."
Mr. Byrd uttered this very distinctly, and witha decided
emphasis. But the impervious Hickory only settled him-
self farther back in his chair, and stretching his feet out
toward the fire, remarked dryly :
“Perhaps I am not much of ajudge of human nature,
but I should have said now that this Mansell was not
a man to treat her contemptuously for that. Rage he
' might show or hatred, but this quiet ignoring of her
presence seems a little too dignified for a criminal facing
a person he has every reason to believe is convinced
of his guilt." .
“ Ordinary rules don't apply to this man. Neither you
nor I can sound his nature. If he displays contempt, it
is because he is of the sort to feel it for the woman who
has betrayed him."
“ You make him out mean.spirited, then, as well
as wicked ?"
“ I make him out human. More than that," Mr. Byrd
resumed, after a moment's thought, “ I make him out con-
sistent. A man who lets his passions sway him to the ex-
tent of committing a murder for the purpose of satisfying
his love or his ambition, is not of the unselfish cast that
would appreciate such a sacrifice as Miss Dare has made.
This under the supposition that our reasons for believing
him guilty are well founded. If our suppositions are


THE' SCALES oF JUSTICE. 319
false, and the crime was not committed by him, his con-
tempt needs no explanation."
“ Just so ! "
The peculiar tone in which this was uttered caused Mr.
Byrd to flash another quick look at his colleague.
Hickory did not seem to observe it.
“ What makes you think Miss Dare will be called
to the witness stand to.morrow ? " he asked.
“ Well I will tell you," returned Byrd, with the sudden
vivacity of one glad to turn the current of conversation
into a fresh channel. “ If you have followed the method
of the prosecution as I have done, you will have noticed
that it has advanced to its point by definite stages.
First, witnesses were produced to prove the existence of
motive on the part of the accused. Mr. Goodman
was called to the witness stand, and, after him, other
business men of Buffalo, all of whom united in unqualified
assertions of the prisoner's frequently.expressed desire for
a sum of money suflicient to put his invention into
practical use. Next, the amount considered necessary
for this purpose was ascertained and found to be just
covered by the legacy bequeathed him by his aunt ; after
which, ample evidence was produced to show that he
knew the extent of her small fortune, and the fact
that she had by her will made him her heir. Motive for
the crime being thus established, they now proceeded to
prove that he was not without actual opportunity for per-
petrating it. He was shown to have been in Sibley at the '


320 HAND AND RING.
'.-
time of the murder. The station.master at Monteith was
confronted with the prisoner, also old Sally Perkins.
Then you and I came before the court with our testi-
mony, and whatever doubt may have remained as to his
having been in a position to effect his aunt's death,
and afterward escape unnoticed by means of the path
leading over the hills to Monteith Quarry station, was
swept away. What remains? To connect him with the
murder itself, by some strong link of circumstantial evi-
dence, such as the ring provides. And who is it that
can give testimony regarding the ring ?—Miss Dare."
“ Hem ! Well, she will do it," was the dry remark of
Hickory. .
“She will be obliged to do it," was the emphatic re-
sponse of Byrd.
I And again their glances crossed in a furtive way both
seemed ready to ignore.
“What do you think of Orcutt?" Hickory next in-
quired.
“ He is very quiet."
“ Too quiet, eh ? "
“Perhaps. Folks that know him well declare they
never before saw him conduct a case in so temperate a
manner. He has scarcely made an effort at cross.exam-
ination, and, in fact, has thus far won nothing for the
defence except that astonishing tribute- to the prisoner's
character given by Mr. Goodman."
“ Mr. Goodman is Mansell's friend."


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 321"
“ I know it ; but his short, decisive statements told
upon the jury. Such a man as he made Mansell out to
be is just the sort to create an impression on a body of
men like them."
“ Orcutt understands a jury."
“ Orcutt understands his case. He knows he can
make nothing by attempting to shake the evidence which
has been presented by the prosecution ; the facts are too
clear, and the witnesses which have been called to testify
are of too reliable a character. Whatever defence he
contemplates, it will not rest upon a denial of any of the
facts brought to light through our efforts, or the evidence
of such persons as Messrs. Goodman and Harrison."
“ No."
“ The question is, then, in what will it lie ? Some
strong point, I warrant you, or he would not hold himself
and his plans so completely in reserve. But what strong
point ? I acknowledge the uncertainty troubles me."
“ I don't wonder," rejoined Hickory. “ So it does
me."
And a constraint again fell between them that lasted
till Hickory put his pipe in his pocket and signified his
intention of returning to his own apartments.


"T322 HAND AND RING.
XXVIII.
THE CHIEF WITNESS FOR THE PROSECUTION.
Oh, while you live tell truth and shame the devil l
—HBNRY IV.
R. BYRD'S countenance after the departure of
M his companion was any thing but cheerful. The
fact is, he was secretly uneasy. He dreaded the morrow.
He dreaded the testimony of Miss Dare. He had not yet
escaped so fully from under the dominion of her fascina-
tions as to regard with equanimity this unhappy woman
forcing herself to give testimony compromising to the
man she loved.
Yet when the morrow came he was among the first to
secure a seat in the court.room. Though the scene was
likely to be harrowing to his feelings, he had no wish to
lose it, and, indeed, chose such a position as would give
him the best opportunity for observing the prisoner and
surveying the witnesses.
He was not the only one on the look.out for the testi-
mony of Miss Dare. The increased number of the spec-
tators and the general air of expectation visible in more
than one of the chief actors in this terrible drama gave
suspicious proof of the fact ; even if the deadly pallor of
the lady herself had not revealed her own feelings in
regard to the subject.


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 323
The entrance of the prisoner was more marked, too,
than usual. His air and manner were emphasized, so to
speak, and his face, when he turned it toward the jury,
wore an iron look of resolution that would have made
him conspicuous had he occupied a less prominent posi-
tion than that of the dock.
Miss Dare, who had flashed her eyes toward him at the
moment of his first appearance, dropped them again, con-
trary to her usual custom. Was it because she knew the
moment was at hand when their glances would be obliged
to meet ?
Mr. Orcutt, whom no movement on the part of Miss
Dare ever escaped, leaned over and spoke to the prisoner.
“ Mr. Mansell," said he, “are you prepared to submit
with composure to the ordeal of confronting Miss Dare ?"
“Yes," was the stern reply. .
- . “I would then advise you to look at her now," pro-
ceeded his counsel. “ She is not turned this way, and
you can observe her without encountering her glance. A
quick look at this moment may save you from betraying
any undue emotion when you see her upon the stand."
The accused smiled with a bitterness Mr. Orcutt
thought perfectly natural, and slowly prepared to obey.
As he raised his eyes and allowed them to traverse the
room until they settled upon the countenance of the
woman he loved, this other man who, out of a still more
absorbing passion for Imogene,'was at that very moment
doing all .that lay in his power for the saving of this his


324 HAND AND RING.
openly acknowledged rival, watched him with the closest
and most breathless attention. It was another instance
of that peculiar fascination which a successful rival has
for an unsuccessful one. It was as if this great lawyer's
thoughts reverted to his love, and he asked himself :
“ What is there in this Mansell that she should prefer him
to me ? "
And Orcutt himself, though happily unaware of the
fact, was at that same instant under a scrutiny as narrow
as that he bestowed upon his client. Mr. Ferris, who
knew his secret, felt a keen interest in watching how he
would conduct himself at this juncture. Not an expres-
sion of the lawyer's keen and puzzling eye but was seen
by the District Attorney and noted, even if it was not
understood.
Of the three, Mr. Ferris was the first to turn away, and
his thoughts if they could have been put into words might
have run something like this: “That man "—meaning
()1.¢utt-“ is doing the noblest work one human being
can perform for another, and yet there is something in his
face I do not comprehend. Can it be he hopes to win
Miss Dare by his effort to save his rival ?”

"_\‘\
As for the thoughts of the person thus unconsciously
subjected to the criticism of his dearest friend, let our
knowledge of the springs that govern his action serve to
interpret both the depth and bitterness of. his curiosity ;
while the sentiments of Mansell But who can read
what lurks behind the iron of that sternly composed


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 325
countenance ? Not Imogene, not Orcutt, not Ferris.
His secret, if he owns one, he keeps well, and his lids
scarcely quiver as he drops them over the eyes that but a
moment before reflected the grand beauty of the unfort-
_ unate woman for whom he so lately protested the most
fervent love.
The next moment the court was opened and Miss
Dare's name was called by the District Attorney.
With a last look at the unresponsive prisoner, Imogene
rose, took her place on the witness stand and faced the
jury.
It was a memorable moment. If the curious and im-
pressible crowd of spectators about her had been igno-
rant of her true relations to the accused, the deadly
stillness and immobility of her bearing would have con-
vinced them that emotion of the deepest nature lay
behind the still, white mask she had thought fit to assume.
That she was beautiful and confronted them from that
common stand as from a throne, did not serve to lessen
the impression she made.
The ofiicer hel'd the Bible toward her. With a look
that Mr. Byrd was fain to consider one of natural shrink-
ing only, she laid her white hand upon it ; but at the in-
timation from the officer, “ The right hand, if you please,
miss," she started and made the exchange he suggested,
while at the same moment there rang upon her ear the
voice of the clerk as he administered the awful adjuration
that she should, as she believed and hoped in Eternal


_,._'- - --.
326 HAND AND RING.
mercy, tell the truth as between this man and the law and
keep not one tittle back. The book was then lifted to her
lips by the oflicer, and withdrawn.
“ Take your seat, Miss Dare," said the District Attor-
ney. And the examination began.
“ Your name, if you please ?"
“ Imogene Dare."
“ Are you married or single ? ”
“ I am single."
“Where were you born?"
Now this was a painful question to one of her history.
Indeed, she showed it to be so by the flush which rose to
her cheek and by the decided trembling of her proud lip.
But she did not seek to evade it.
“ Sir," she said, “ I cannot answer you. I never heard
any of the particulars of my birth. I was a foundling."
The mingled gentleness and dignity with which she
made this acknowledgment won for her the instantane-
ous sympathy of all present. Mr. Orcutt saw this, and
the flash of indignation that had involuntarily passed
between him and the prisoner subsided as quickly as it
arose.
Mr. Ferris went on.
“Where do you live ?"
“ In this town ? "
“With whom do you live ?"
“I am boarding a present with a woman of the name
of Kennedy. I support myself by my needle," she hur-


THE sc.ALEs OF JUSTICE. 327
riedly added, as though anxious to forestall his next
question.
Seeing the prisoner start at this, Imogene lifted her
head still higher. Evidently this former lover of hers
knew little of her movements since they parted so many
weeks ago.
“And how long is it since you supported yourself in
this way ? " asked the District Attorney.
“For a few weeks only. Formerly," she said, making
a slight inclination in the direction of the prisoner's
counsel, “I lived in the household of Mr. Orcutt, where
I occupied the position of assistant to the lady who looks
after his domestic affairs." And her eye met the
lawyer's with a look of pride that made him inwardly
cringe, though not even the jealous glance of the prisoner
could detect that an eyelash quivered or a flicker dis-
turbed the studied serenity of his gaze.
The District Attorney opened his lips as if to pursue
this topic, but, meeting his opponent's eye, concluded to
waive further preliminaries and proceed at once to the
more serious part of the examination.
“Miss Dare," said he, “ will you look at the prisoner
and tell us if you have any acquaintance with him .? "
Slowly she prepared to reply; slowly she turned her
head and let her glance traverse that vast crowd till it
settled upon her former lover. The look which passed
like lightning across her face as she encountered his gaze
fixed for the first time steadily upon her own, no one in
that assemblage ever forgot.


.--...--
328 HAND AND RING.
“ Yes," she returned, quietly, but in a tone that made
Mansell quiver and look away, despite his iron self.com-
mand ; “ I know him."
“Will you be kind enough to say how long you have
known him and where it was you first made his acquaint-
ance ? "
“ I met him first in Buffalo some four months since,"
was the steady reply. “He was calling at a friend's-
house .where I was staying."
“Did you at that time know of his relation to your
townswoman, Mrs. Clemmens ?”
“No, sir. It was not till I had seen him several
times that I learned he had any connections in Sibley."
“ Miss Dare, you will excuse me, but it is highly
desirable for the court to know if the prisoner ever paid
his addresses to you ?”
The deep, almost agonizing blush that colored her
white cheek answered as truly as the slow “Yes," that
struggled painfully to her lips.
“ And—excuse me ‘again, Miss Dare—did he propose
marriage to you ? ”
“ He did."
“ Did you accept him ?”
“ I did not."
“ Did you refuse him ?"
“I refused to engage myself to him."
“ Miss Dare, will you tell us when you left Buffalo ?"
“ On the nineteenth day of August last."


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 329
“ Did the prisoner accompany you?”
“ He did not."
“Upon what sort of terms did you part ? "-
“ Good terms, sir."
“ Do you mean friendly terms, or such as are held by
a man and a woman between whom an attachment exists
which, under favorable circumstances, may culminate in
marriage ? ”
“ The latter, sir, I think."
“Did you receive any letters from the prisoner after
your return to Sibley ?"
“ Yes, sir."
“ And did you answer them? "
“I did."
“Miss Dare, may I now ask what reasons you gave
the prisoner for declining his offer—that is, if my friend
does not object to the question?” added the District
Attorney, turning with courtesy toward Mr. Orcutt.
The latter, who had started to his feet, bowed com-
posedly and prepared to resume his seat.
“I desire to put nothing in the way of your elicit-
ing the whole truth concerning this matter," was his
quiet, if somewhat constrained, response.
Mr. Ferris at once turned back to Miss Dare. -
“You will, then, answer," he said.
Imogene lifted her head and complied.
“I told him," she declared, with thrilling distinctness,
“ that he was in no condition to marry. I am by nature


3 3o HAND AND RING.
an ambitious woman, and, not having suffered at that
time, thought more of my position before the world
than of what constitutes the worth and dignity of
a man."
No one who heard these words could doubt they were
addressed to the prisoner. Haughtily as she held her-
self, there was a deprecatory humility in her tone
that neither judge nor jury could have elicited from her.
Naturally many eyes turned in the direction of the
prisoner. They saw two white faces before them, that of
the accused and that of his counsel, who sat near him.
But the pallor of the one was of scorn, and that of the
Well, no one who knew the relations of Mr.

other
Orcutt to the witness could wonder that the renowned
lawyer shrank from hearing the woman he loved confess
her partiality for another man. '
Mr. Ferris, who understood the situation as well as any
one, but who had passed the point where sympathy could
interfere with his action. showed a disposition to press his
advantage.
“ Miss Dare, " he inquired, “in declining the proposals
of the prisoner, did you state to him in so many words
these objections you have here mentioned ?”
“ I did."
“ And what answer did he give you ?"
“ He replied that he was also ambitious, and hoped and
intended to make a success in life."
“ And did he tell you how he hoped and intended
to make a success ?"


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 331
“He did.”
“Miss Dare, were these letters written by you ?” -
She looked at the packet he held toward her, started
as she saw the broad black ribbon that encircled it, and
bowed her head.
“I have no doubt these are my letters," she rejoined,
a little tremulously for her. And unbinding the packet,
she examined its contents. “ Yes," she answered, “they
are. These letters were all written by me."
And she handed them back with such haste that
the ribbon which bound them remained in her fingers,
where consciously or unconsciously she held it clutched
all through the remaining time of her examination.
“ Now," said the District Attorney, “I propose to read
two of these letters. Does my friend wish to look at
them before I offer them in evidence ? " holding them out
to Mr. Orcutt. '
Every eye in the court.room was fixed upon the latter's
face, as the letters addressed to his rival by the woman he
wished to make his wife, were tendered in this public
manner to his inspection. Even the iron face of Mansell
relaxed into an expression of commiseration as he turned
and surveyed the man who, in despite of the anomalous
position they held toward each other, was thus engaged
in battling for his life before the eyes of the whole
world. At that instant there was not a spectator who
did not feel that Tremont Orcutt was the hero of the
moment.
He slowly turned to the prisoner:


332 HAND AND RING.
.. _ ._..__._...~-'
“Have you any objection to these letters being
read?"
“ No," returned the other, in a low tone.
Mr. Orcutt turned firmly to the District Attorney :
“You may read them if you think proper," said he.
Mr. Ferris bowed; the letters were marked as ex-
hibits by the stenographic reporter who was taking the
minutes of testimony, and handed back to Ferris, who
proceeded to read the following in a clear voice to
the jury :
" SIBLEY, N. Y., September 7, I882.
“ DEAR FRIEND,—You show signs of impatience, and ask for a
word to help you through this period of uncertainty and unrest. What
can I say more than I have said? That I believe in you and in your
invention, and proudly wait for the hour when you will come to
claim me with the fruit of your labors in your hand. I am impatient
myself, but I have more trust than you. Some one will see the value
of your work before long, or else your aunt will interest herself in
your success, and lend you that practical assistance which you need
to start you in the way of fortune and fame. I cannot think you are
going to fail. I will not allow myself to look forward to any thing
less than success for you and happiness for myself. For the one in-
volves the other, as you must know by this time, or else believe me
to be the most heartless of coquettes.
“ Wishing to see you, but of the opinion that further meetings
between us would be unwise till our future looks more settled, I re-
main, hopefully yours,
“ Imocamz DARE."
“The other letter I propose to read," continued Mr.
Ferris, “is dated September 23d, three days before the
widow's death.


THE scams OF JUSTICE. 333
" DEAR CRAIK,—Since you insist upon seeing me, and say that you
have reasons of your own for not visiting me openly, I will consent to
meet you at the trysting spot you mention, though all such underhand
dealings are as foreign to my nature as I believe them to be to
yours.
“ Trusting that fortune will so favor us as to make it unnecessary
for us to meet in this way more than once, I wait in anxiety for your
coming. " IMOGENE DARE.”
These letters, unfolding relations that, up to this time,
had been barely surmised by the persons congregated
before her, created a great impression. To those espe-
cially who knew her and believed her to be engaged to Mr.
Orcutt the surprise was wellnigh thrilling. The witness
seemed to feel this, and bestowed a short, quick glance
upon the lawyer, that may have partially recompensed
him for the unpleasantness of the general curiosity.
The Prosecuting Attorney went on without pause:
“Miss Dare," said he, “did you meet the prisoner as
you promised ?"
“ I did."
“Will you tell me when and where ?"
“ Gn the afternoon of Monday, September 27th, in the
glade back of Mrs. Clemmens' house."
“ Miss Dare, we fully realize the pain it must cost you
to refer to these matters, but I must request you to tell us
what passed between you at this interview ? "
“ If you will ask rne questions, sir, I will answer them
with the truth the subject demands."
The sorrowful dignity with which this was said, called
forth a bow from the Prosecuting Attorney.


334 HAND AND RING.
“Very well," he rejoined, “ did the prisoner have any
thing to say about his prospects?"
“ He did." '
“ How did he speak of them ?”
“ Despondingly."
“And what reason did he give for this?”
“He said he had failed to interest any capitalist in his
invention."
“ Any other reason?"
“ Yes." .
“ What was that?"
“ That he had just come from his aunt whom he had
tried to persuade to advance him a sum of money to
carry out his wishes, but that she had refused."
“He told you that ?"
“ Yes, sir."
“ Did he also tell you what path he had taken to his
aunt's house ?"
“ No, sir."
“ Was there any thing said by him to show he did not
take the secret path through the woods and across the
bog to her back door ? ”
“ No, sir."
“ Or that he did not return in the same way?" '
“ N 0, sir."
“Miss Dare, did the 'prisoner express to you at this
time irritation as well as regret at the result of his efforts
to elicit money from his aunt ? "
“ Yes," was the evidently forced reply.


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 335
"‘ Can you remember any words that he used which
would tend to show the condition of his mind ?”
“ I have no memory for words," she began, but flushed
as she met the eye of the Judge, and perhaps remembered
her oath. “I do recollect, however, one expression he
used. He said : ‘My life is worth nothing to me without
success. If only to win you, I must put this matter
through; and I will do it yet.' ”
She repeated this quietly, giving it no emphasis and
scarcely any inflection, as if she hoped by her mechanical
way of uttering it to rob it of any special meaning. But
she did not succeed, as was shown by the compassionate
tone in which Mr. Ferris next addressed her.
“ Miss Dare, did you express any anger yourself at the
refusal of Mrs. Clemmens to assist the prisoner by lend-
ing him such moneys as he required ?"
“ Yes, sir ; I fear I did. It seemed unreasonable to me
then, and I was very anxious he should have that oppor-
tunity to make fame and fortune which I thought his
genius merited."
“ Miss Dare," inquired the District Attorney, calling
to his aid such words as he had heard from old Sally in
reference to this interview, “did you make use of any
such expression as this : ‘ I wish I knew Mrs. Clem-
mens ' ? ”
“ I believe I did."
“And did this mean you had no acquaintance with the
murdered woman at that time?" pursued Mr. Ferris.


3 36 HAND AND RING.
half.turning to the prisoner's counsel, as if he anticipated
the objection which that gentleman might very properly
make to a question concerning the intention of a wit-
ness.
And Mr. Orcutt, yielding to professional instinct, did
indeed make a slight movement as if to rise, but became
instantly motionless. Nothing could be more painful to
him than to wrangle before the crowded court.room over
these dealings between the woman he loved and the man
he was now defending.
Mr. Ferris turned back to the witness and awaited her
answer. It came without hesitation.
“ It meant that, sir."
“ And what did the prisoner say when you gave utter-
ance to this wish ? "
“He asked me why I desired to know her."
“ And what did you reply? ”
“ That if I knew her I might be able to persuade her to
listen to his request." ‘
“ And what answer had he for this ? "
“None but a quick shake of his head."
“ Miss Dare ; up to the time of this interview had you
ever received any gift from the prisoner—jewelry, for in-
stance—say, a ring ! "
“ No, sir."
“ Did he offer you such a gift then ? "
“ He did."
“ What was it ? "


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 337
“ A gold ring set with a diamond."
“ Did you receive it ? "
“ No, sir. I felt that in taking a ring from him I would
be giving an irrevocable promise, and I was not ready to
do that."
“ Did you allow him to put it on your finger ! ”
“I did."
“ And it remained there ? ” suggested Mr. Ferris, with
a smile.
“A minute, may be."
“ Which of you, then, took it off?"
“ I did."
“And what did you say when you took it off ? "
“ I do not remember my words."
Again recalling old Sally's account of this interview,
Mr. Ferris asked : p
“Were theythese : ‘ I cannot. Wait till to.morrow ' ?"
“ Yes, I believe they were."
“ And when he inquired : ‘ Why to.morrow ? ' did you
reply : ‘ A night has been known to change the whole
current of one's affairs ' ?"
“ I did."
“Miss Dare, what did you mean by those words?"
“ I object ! " cried Mr. Orcutt, rising. Unseen by any
save himself, the prisoner had made him an eloquent gest-
ure, slight, but peremptory.
“I think it is one I have a right to ask," urged the
District Attorney.


3 38 HAND AND RING.
But Mr. Orcutt, who manifestly had the best of the
argument, maintained his objection, and the Court instant-
ly ruled in his favor.
Mr. Ferris prepared to modify his question. But be-
fore he could speak the voice of Miss Dare was heard.
“ Gentlemen," said she, “there was no need of all this
talk. I intended to seek an interview with Mrs. Clem-
mens and try what the effect would be of confiding to her
my interest in her nephew."
The dignified simplicity with which she spoke, and the
air of quiet candor that for that one moment surrounded
her, gave to this voluntary explanation an unexpected
force that carried it quite home to the hearts of the jury.
Even Mr. Orcutt could not preserve the frown with which
he had confronted her at the first movement of her lips,
but turned toward the prisoner with a look almost con-
gratulatory in its character. But Mr. Byrd, who for rea-
sons of his own kept his eyes upon that prisoner, observed
that it met with no other return than that shadow of a
bitter smile which now and then visited his otherwise un-
moved countenance.
Mr. Ferris, who, in his friendship for the witness, was
secretly rejoiced in an explanation which separated her
from the crime of her lover, bowed in acknowledgment of
the answer she had been pleased to give him in face of the
ruling of the Court, and calmly proceeded:
“And what reply did the prisoner make you when you
uttered this remark in reference to the change that a
single day sometimes makes in one's affairs ?”


THE SCALES oF JUSTICE. 339
“ Something in the way of assent."
“ Cannot you give us his words ?”
“ No sir" '
, .
“ Well, then, can you tell us whether or not he looked
. thoughtful when you said this ?"
“ He may have done so, sir."
“ Did it strike you at the time that he reflected on what
you said ?"
“ I cannot say how it struck me at the time."
“Did he look at you a few minutes before speaking,
or in any way conduct himself as if he had been set
thinking ? "
“ He did not speak for a few minutes."
“And looked at you ?”
“ Yes, sir."
The District Attorney paused a moment as if to let the
results of his examination sink into the minds of the jury;
then he went on :
“ Miss Dare, you say you returned the ring to the
prisoner ? "
“ Yes, sir."
“ You say positively the ring passed from you to him ;
that you saw it in his hand after it had left yours ? "
“ No, sir. The ring passed from me to him, but I did
not see it in his hand, because I did not return it to him
that way. I dropped it into his pocket."
At this acknowledgment, which made both the prisoner
and his counsel look up, Mr. Byrd felt himself nudged by
Hickory.


340 HAND AND RING.
“ Did you hear that ? " he whispered.
“ Yes," returned the other.
“ And do you believe it ? "
“ Miss Dare is on oath," was the reply.
“ Pooh ! " was Hickory's whispered exclamation.
The District Attorney alone showed no surprise.
“ You dropped it into his pocket ?" he resumed. “ How
came you to do that ?”
" I was weary of the strife which had followed my refusal
to accept this token. He would not take it from me him-
self, so I restored it to him in the way I have said.”
“ Miss Dare, will you tell us what pocket this was ?”
“ The outside pocket on the left side of his coat," she
returned, with a cold and careful exactness that caused the
prisoner to drop his eyes from her face, with that faint
but scornful twitch of the muscles about his mouth, which
gave to his countenance now and then the proud look of
disdain which both the detectives had noted.
“ Miss Dare," continued the Prosecuting Attorney, “ did
you see this ring again during the interview ?"
“ No, sir."
“ Did you detect the prisoner making any move to take
it out of his pocket, or have you any reason to believe
that it was taken out of the pocket on the left.hand side
of his coat while you were with him ?”
“ No, sir."
“ So that, as far as you know, it was still in his pocket
when you parted? "


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. ' 341
“ Yes, sir." .
“ Miss Dare, have you ever seen that ring since?"
“ I have."
“ When and where ? "
“ I saw it on the morning of the murder. It was lying
on the floor of Mrs. Clemmens' dining.room. I had gone
to the house, in my surprise at hearing of the murderous
assault which had been made upon her, and, while survey-
ing the spot where she was struck, perceived this ring ly-
ing on the floor before me."
“ What made you think it was this ring which you had
returned to the prisoner the day before ? ”
“Because of its setting, and the character of the gem, I
suppose."
“ Could you see all this where it was lying on the
floor ? ”
“ It was brought nearer to my eyes, sir. A gentleman
who was standing near, picked it up and offered it to me,
supposing it was mine. As he held it out in his open palm
I saw it plainly.
“ Miss Dare, will you tell us what you did when you
first saw this ring lying on the floor ? "
“ I covered it with my foot."
“Was that before you recognized it ? ”
“I cannot say. I placed my foot upon it instinc-
tively."
“ How long did you keep it there ? ”
“ Some few minutes."


342 HAND AND RING.
“What caused you to move at last P "
“ I was surprised."
“ What surprised you ?"
“A man came to the door."
“What man." ‘
“ I don't know. A stranger to me. Some one who had
been sent on an errand connected with this affair."
“What did he say or do to surprise you?"
“ Nothing. It was what you said yourself after the
man had gone."
“ And what did I say, Miss Dare ? "
She cast him a look of the faintest appeal, but answered
quietly:
“Something about its not being the tramp who had
committed this crime."
“ That surprised you ? ”
“ That made me start."
“ Miss Dare, were you present in the house when the
dying woman spoke the one or two exclamations which
have been testified to in this trial ? ”
“ Yes, sir."
“ What was the burden of the first speech you heard? "
“The words Hanzi, sir, and Ring. She repeated the
two half a dozen times."
“ Miss Dare, what did you say to the gentleman who
showed you the ring and asked if it were yours ?"
“I told him it was mine, and took it and placed it on
my finger."
“ But the ring was not yours ? "


THE SCALES oF JUSTICE. 343
“My acceptance of it made it mine. In all but that
regard it had been mine ever since Mr. Mansell offered it
to me the day before."
Mr. Ferris surveyed the witness for a moment before
saying :
“Then you considered it damaging to your lover to
have this ring found in that apartment?"
Mr. Orcutt instantly rose to object.
“I won't press the question," said the District Attorney,
with a wave of his hand and a slight look at the jury.
“ You ought never to have asked it?" exclaimed Mr.
Orcutt, with the first appearance of heat he had shown."
“ You are right," Mr. Ferris coolly responded. “The
jury could see the point without any assistance from you '
or me."
“And the jury," returned Mr. Orcutt, with equal cool-
ness, “is scarcely obliged to you for the suggestion."
“ Well, we won't quarrel about it," declared Mr.
Ferris. .
“ We won't quarrel about any thing," retorted Mr. Or-
cutt. “We will try the case in a legal manner."
“Have you got through ?” inquired Mr. Ferris, nettled.
Mr. Orcutt took his seat with the simple reply:
“ Go on with the case." '
The District Attorney, after a momentary pause to regain
the thread of his examination and recover his equanimity,
turned to the witness.
“ Miss Dare," he asked, “ how long did you keep that
ring on your finger after you left the house ? "


344 HAND AND RING.
“A little while—five or ten minutes, perhaps."
“Where were you when you took it of f ? "
Her voice sank just a trifle :
“ On the bridge at Warren Street."
“What did you do with it then ?"
Her eyes which had been upon the Attorney's face, fell
slowly.
“ I dropped it into the water," she said.
And the character of her thoughts and suspicions at
that time stood revealed.
The Prosecuting Attorney allowed himself a few more
questions.
“ When you parted with the prisoner in the woods, was
it with any arrangement for meeting again before he re-
turned to Buffalo?"
“ No, sir."
“ Give us the final words of your conversation, if you
please."
“ We were just parting, and I had turned to go, when
he said : ‘Is it good.by, then, Imogene ? ' and I answered,
‘That to.morrow must decide.' ‘Shall I stay, then?'
he inquired ; to which I replied, ‘ Yes.' ”
'T was a short, seemingly literal, repetition of possi-
bly innocent words, but the whisper into which her voice
sank at the final “Yes " endowed it with a thrilling effect
for which even she was not prepared. For she shuddered
as she realized the deathly quiet that followed its utter-
ance, and cast a quick look at Mr. Orcutt that was full of
question, if not doubt.


THE SCALES oF JUSTICE. 345
“ I was calculating upon the interview I intended to
have with Mrs. Clemmens," she explained, turning toward
the Judge with indescribable dignity.
“We understand that," remarked the Prosecuting At-
torney, kindly, and then inquired :
“ Was this the last you saw of the prisoner until to-
day ? "
“ No, sir."
“ When did you see him again P"
“ On the following Wednesday."
“ Where ? "
“ In the depot at Syracuse."
“ How came you to be in Syracuse the day after the
murder ?"
“ I had started to go to Buffalo."
“ What purpose had you in going to Buffalo ?"
“ I wished to see Mr. Mansell."
“ Did he know you were coming ?"
“ No, sir."
“ Had no communication passed between you from the
time you parted in the woods till you came upon each
other in the depot you have just mentioned ?"
“ No, sir.”
“ Had he no reason to expect to meet you there ?"
“.No, sir."
“ With what words did you accost each other ?”
“ I don't know. I have no remembrance of saying
any thing. I was utterly dumbfounded at seeing him in


346 HAND AND RING.
this place, and cannot say into what exclamation I may
have been betrayed."
“ And he? Don't you remember what he said ?"
“ No, sir. I only know he started back with a look of
great surprise. Afterward he asked if I were on my
way to see him."
“ And what did you answer ? "
“ I don't think I made any answer. I was wondering
if he was on his way to see me."
“ Did you-put the question to him ? ”
“ Perhaps. I cannot tell. It is all like a dream to
me."
If she had said horrible dream, every one there would
have believed her.
“You can tell us, however, if you held any conver-
sation ? ”
“ We did not."
“ And you can tell us how the interview terminated ? "
“ Yes, sir. I turned away and took the train back
home, which I saw standing on the track without."
“And he ?"
“ Turned away also. Where he went I cannot say."
“ Miss Dare "—the District Attorney's voice was very
earnest—“ can you tell us which of you made the first
movement to go ?-"
“What does he mean by that ? " whispered Hickory to
Byrd.
“I think .—— ” she commenced and paused. Her


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 347
eyes in wandering over the throng of spectators before
her, had settled on these two detectives, and noting the
breathless way in which .they looked at her, she seemed
to realize that more might lie in this question than at
first appeared.
“I do not know," she answered at last. “It was a
simultaneous movement, I think."
“ Are you sure ?" persisted Mr. Ferris. “ You are on
oath, Miss Dare? Is there no way in which .you can
make certain whether he or you took the initiatory step
in this sudden parting after an event that so materially
changed your mutual prospects ? "
“ No, sir. I can only say that in recalling the sensa-
tions of that hour, I am certain my own movement was
not the result of any I saw him take. The instinct to
leave the place had its birth in my own breast."
“I told you so," commented Hickory, in the ear of
Byrd. “ She is not going to give herself away, whatever
happens."
“ But can you positively say he did not make the first
motion to leave ? " ‘
“ No, sir."
Mr. Ferris bowed, turned toward the opposing counsel
and said :
“ The witness is yours."
Mr. Ferris sat down perfectly satisfied. He had dex-
terously brought out Imogene's suspicions of the prison-
er's guilt, and knew that the jury must be influenced in


348 HAND AND RING.
their convictions by those of the woman who, of all the
world, ought to have believed, if she could, in the inno-
cence of her lover. He did not even fear the cross-
examination which he expected to follow. No amount
of skill on the part of Orcutt could extract other than the
truth, and the truth was that Imogene believed the
prisoner to be the murderer of his aunt. He, therefore,
surveyed the court.room with a smile, and awaited the
somewhat slow proceedings of his opponent with equa-
nimity.
But, to the surprise of every one, Mr. Orcutt, after a
short consultation with the prisoner, rose and said he had
no questions to put to the witness.
And Miss Dare was allowed to withdraw from the
stand, to the great satisfaction of Mr. Ferris, who found
himself by this move in a still better position than he had
anticipated.
“ Byrd," whispered Hickory, as Miss Dare returned
somewhat tremulously to her former seat among the
witnesses—“ Byrd, you could knock me over with a
feather. I thought the defence would have no difficulty
in ricldling this woman's testimony, and they have not
even made the effort. Can it be that Orcutt has such
an attachment for her that he is going to let his rival
hang ? "
“ No. Orcutt is n't the man to deliberately lose a case
for any woman. He looks at Miss Dare's testimony from
a different standpoint than you do. He believes what
she says to be true, and you do not."


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 349
“Then, all I 've got to say, ‘So much the worse for
Mansell ! '” was the whispered response. “He was a
fool to trust his case to that man." '
The judge, the jury, and all the by.standers in court, it
must be confessed, shared the opinion of Hickory—Mr.
Orcutt was standing on slippery ground.


. --._-.._1
3 50 HAND AND RING.
XXIX.
THE OPENING OF THE DEFENCE-
Excellent! I smell a device.—Twi':I.r'rH Nroirr.
ATE that afternoon the prosecution rested. It had
L made out a case of great strength and seeming
impregnability. Favorably as every one was disposed to
regard the prisoner, the evidence against him was such
that, to quote a man who was pretty free with his opinions
in the lobby of the court.room: “Orcutt will have to
wake up if he is going to clear his man in face of facts
like these."
The moment, therefore, when this famous lawyer and
distinguished advocate rose to open the defence, was one
of great interest to more than the immediate actors in the
scene. It was felt that hitherto he had rather idled with
his case, and curiosity was awake to his future course.
Indeed, in the minds of many the counsel for the prisoner
was on trial as well as his client.
He rose with more of self.possession, quiet and re-
served strength, than could be hoped for, and his look
toward the Court and then to the jury tended to gain for
him the confidence which up to this moment he seemed
to be losing. Never a handsome man or even an impos-
ing one, he had the advantage of always rising to the oc-


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 351
casion, and whether pleading with jury or arguing with
opposing counsel, flashed with that unmistakable glitter
of keen and ready intellect which, once observed in a
man, marks him off from his less gifted fellows and makes
him the cynosure of all eyes, however insignificant his
height, features, or ordinary expression.
To.day he was even cooler, more brilliant, and more
confident in his bearing than usual. Feelings, if feelings
he possessed—and we who have seen him at his hearth
can have no doubt on this subject,—had been set aside
when he rose to his feet and turned his face upon the ex-
pectant crowd before him. To save his client seemed the
one predominating impulse of his soul, and, as he drew
himself up to speak, Mr. Byrd, who was watching him with
the utmost eagerness and anticipation, felt that, despite
'appearances, despite evidence, despite probability itself,
this man was going to win his case.
“ May it please your Honor and Gentlemen of the ]‘ury,"
he began, and those who looked at him could not but
notice how the prisoner at his side lifted his head at this
address, till it seemed as if the words issued from his lips
instead of from those of his counsel, “ I stand before you
to.day not to argue with mylearned opponent in reference
to the evidence which he has brought out with so much
ingenuity. I have a simpler duty than that to perform.
I have to show you how, in spite of this evidence, in face
of all this accumulated testimony showing the prisoner to
have been in possession of both motive and opportunities


352 HAND AND RING.
for committing this crime, he is guiltless of it; that a
physical impossibility stands in the way of his being the
assailant of the Widow Clemmens, and that to whomever
or whatsoever her death may be due, it neither was nor
could have been the result of any blow struck by the
prisoner's hand. In other words, we dispute, not the
facts which have led the Prosecuting Attorney of this
district, and perhaps others also, to infer guilt on the
part of the prisoner,"—here Mr. Orcutt cast a significant
glance at the bench where the witnesses sat,—“ but the
inference itself. Something besides proof of motive and
opportunity must be urged against t/21': man in order to
convict him of guilt. Nor is it sufiicient to show he was
on the scene of murder some time during the fatal morn-
ing when Mrs. Clemmens was attacked ; you must prove
he was there at the time the deadly blow was struck ; for
it is not with him as with so many against whom circum-
stantial evidence of guilt is brought. Tlzis man, gentle-
men, has an answer for those who accuse him of crime—
an answer, too, before which all the circumstantial evi-
dence in the world cannot stand. Do you ant to know
what it is? Give me but a moment's attention and you
shall hear."
Expectation, which had been rising through this'ex-
ordium, now stood at fever.point. Byrd and Hickory
held their breaths, and even Miss Dare showed feeling
through the icy restraint which had hitherto governed
her secret anguish and suspense. Mr. Orcutt went on :


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 353
“ First, however, as I have already said, the prisoner
desires itpto be understood that he has no intention of
disputing the various facts which have been presented be-
fore you at this trial. He does not deny that he was in
great need of money at the time of his aunt's death; that
he came to Sibley to entreat her to advance to him cer-
tain sums he deemed necessary to the furtherance of his
plans ; that he came secretly and in the roundabout way
you describe. Neither does he refuse to allow that his
errand was also one of love, that he sought and obtained
a private interview with the woman he wished to make his
wife, in the place and at the time testified to ; that the
scraps of conversation which have been sworn to as hav-
ing passed between them at this interview are true in as
far as they go, and that he did place upon the finger of
Miss Dare a diamond ring. Also, he admits that she took
this ring off immediately upon receiving it, saying she
could not accept it, at least not then, and that she en-
treated him to take it back, which he declined to do,
though he cannot say she did not restore it in the manner
she declares, for he remembers nothing of the ring after
the moment he put her hand aside as she was offering it
back to him. The prisoner also allows that he slept in
the hut and remained in that especial region of the woods
until near noon the next day; but, your Honor and Gen-
tlemen of the ]ury, what the prisoner does not allow and
will not admit is that he struck the blow which eventually
robbed Mrs. Clemmens of her life, and the proof which I


334 HAND AND RING.
propose to bring forward in support of this assertion is
this :
“Mrs. Clemmens received the blow which led to her
death at some time previously to three minutes past
twelve o'clock on Tuesday, September 26th. This the
prosecution has already proved. Now, what I propose to
show is, that Mrs. Clemmens, however or whenever as-
sailed, was still living and unhurt up to ten minutes be-
fore twelve on that same day. A witness, whom you
must believe, saw her at that time and conversed with
her, proving that the blow bywhich she came to her death
must have occurred after that hour, that is, after ten min-
utes before noon. But, your Honor and Gentlemen of the
Jury, the prosecution has already shown that the prisoner
stepped on to the train at Monteith Quarry Station at
twenty minutes past one of that same day, and has pro-
duced witnesses whose testimony positively proves that
the road he took there from Mrs. Clemmens' house was
the same he had traversed in his secret approachto it
the day before——viz., the path through the woods; 'the
only path, I may here state, that connects those two
points with any thing like directness.
“But, Sirs, what the prosecution has not shown you,
and what it now devolves upon me to show, is that this
path which the prisoner is allowed to have taken is one
which no man could traverse without encountering great
difliculties and many hindrances to speed. It is not
only a narrow path filled with various encumbrances in


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 355
the way of brambles and rolling stones, but it is so
flanked by an impenetrable undergrowth in some places,
and by low, swampy ground in others, that no deviation
from its course is possible, while to keep within it and
follow its many turns and windings till it finally emerges
upon the highway that leads to the Quarry Station would
require many more minutes than those which elapsed
between the time of the murder and the hour the prisoner
made his appearance at the Quarry Station. In other
words, I propose to introduce before you as witnesses two
gentlemen from New York, both of whom are experts in
all feats of pedestrianism, and who, having been over the
road themselves, are in position to testify that the time
necessary for a man to pass by means of this path from
Mrs. Clemmens‘ house to the Quarry Station is, by a
definite number of minutes, greater than that allowed to
the prisoner by the evidence laid before you. If, there-
fore, you accept the testimony of the prosecution as
true, and believe that the prisoner took the train for
Buffalo, which he has been said to do, it follows, as a
physical impossibility, for him to have been at Mrs.
Clemmens' cottage, or anywhere else except on the road to
the station, at the moment when the fatal blow was dealt.
“Your Honor, this is our answer to the terrible charge
which has been made against the prisoner ; it is simple,
but it is effective, and upon it, as upon a rock, we found
our defence."
And with a bow, Mr. Orcutt sat down, and, it being
late in the day, the court adjourned.


---1-
356 HAND AND RING.
XXX.
BYRD USES HIS PENCIL AGAIN.
Ay, sir, you shall find me reasonable; if it be so,I shall do that that is
reason.—MERRY WIvas or WINDsoR-
“ YRD, you look dazed."
“ I am."
Hickory paused till they were well clear of the crowd
that was pouring from the court.room ; then he said :
“ Well, what do you think of this as a defence ? "
“ I am beginning to think it is good," was the slow,
almost hesitating, reply.
“ Beginning to think ? "
“ Yes. At first it seemed puerile. I had such a stead-
fast belief in Mansell's guilt, I could not give much credit
to any argument tending to shake me loose from my con-
victions. But the longer I think of it the more vividly I
remember the difliculties of the road he had to take in
his flight. I have travelled it myself, you remember, and
I don't see how he could have got over the ground in
ninety minutes."
Hickory's face assumed a somewhat quizzical expres-
sion.
“ Byrd," said he, “whom were you looking at during
the time Mr. Orcutt was making his speech ? ”


THE SCALES oF JUSTICE. 357
“At the speaker, of course."
“ Bah ! "
“ Whom were you looking at?”
“ At the person who would be likely to give me some
return for my pains."
“ The prisoner ? "
“ No."
“Whom, then ? "
“ Miss Dare."
Byrd shifted uneasily to the other side of his companion.
“And what did you discover from her, Hickory ” he
asked.
“ Two things. First, that she knew no more than the
rest of us what the defence was going to be. Secondly,
that she regarded it as a piece of great cleverness on the
part of Orcutt, but that she did n't believe in it any more
—well, any more than I do."
“ Hickory ! "
“ Yes, sir! Miss Dare is a smart woman, and a reso-
lute one, and could have bafiied the penetration of all
concerned if she had only remembered to try. But she
forgot that others might be more interested in making
out what was going on in her mind at this critical mo-
ment than in watching the speaker or noting the effect. of
his words upon the court. In fact, she was too eager her-
self to hear what he had to say to remember her rfilc, I
fancy."
“ But, I don't see-—.” began Byrd.


. '._-_.4|
- 358 HAND AND RING.
“ Wait," interrupted the other. “You believe Miss
Dare loves Craik Mansell ? "
“ Most certainly," was the gloomy response.
“Very well, then. If she had known what the de-
fence was going to be she would have been acutely alive
to the effect it was going to have upon the jury. That
would have been her first thought and her only thought
all the time Mr. Orcutt was speaking, and she would have
sat with her eyes fixed upon the men upon whose accept-
ance or non.acceptance of the truth of this argument her
lover's life ultimately depended. But no ; her gaze, like
yours, remained fixed upon Mr. Orcutt, and she scarcely
breathed or stirred till he had fully revealed what his
argument was going to be. Then-——” '
“Well, then ?"
“Instead of flashing with the joy of relief which any
devoted woman would experience who sees in this argu-
ment a proof of her lover's innocence, she merely dropped
her eyes and resumed her old mask of impassiveness."
I)
“ From all of which you gather
“ That her feelings were not those of relief, but doubt.
In other words, that the knowledge she possesses is of a
character which laughs to scorn any such subterfuge of
defence as Orcutt advances."
“ Hickory," ventured Byrd, after a long silence, “it is
time we understood each other. What is your secret
thought in relation to Miss Dare ? "
“ My secret thought ? Well," drawled the other, look-


THE SCALES OF IUSTICE. 359
ing away, “ I think she knows more about this crime than
she has yet chosen to reveal."
“ More than she evinced to.day in her testimony ?"
“Yes." '
“ I should like to know why you think so. What
special reasons have you for drawing any such conclu-
sions ?"
“Well, one reason is, that she was no more shaken by
the plausible argument advanced by Mr. Orcutt. If her
knowledge of the crime was limited to what she acknowl-
edged in her testimony, and her conclusions as to Man-
sell's guilt were really founded upon such facts as she
gave us in court to.day, why did n't she grasp at the pos..
sibility of her lover's innocence which was held out to her
by his counsel? No facts that she had testified to, not
even the fact of his ring having been found on the scene
of murder, could stand before the proof that he left the
region of Mrs. Clemmens' house before the moment of
assault ; yet, while evincing interest in the argument, and
some confidence in it, too, as one that would be likely to
satisfy the jury, she gave no tokens of being surprised by
it into a reconsideration of her on conclusions, as must
have happened if she told the truth, the whole truth, and
nothing but the truth, when she was on the stand to-
day."
“ I see," remarked Byrd, “that you are presuming to
understand Miss Dare after all."
Hickory smiled.


360 HAND AND RING.
. somewhere.'
“You call this woman a mystery," proceeded Byrd ;
“ hint at great possibilities of acting on her part, and yet
in a moment, as it were, profess yourself the reader of her
inmost thoughts, and the interpreter of looks and ex-
pressions she has manifestly assumed to hide those
thoughts."
Hickory's smile broadened into a laugh.
' “Just so," he cried. “One's imbecility has to stop
.
“I have n't a single fact at my command that is n't
shared by you. My conclusions are different, that is all."
Horace Byrd did not answer. Perhaps if Hickory
could have sounded his thoughts he would have dis-
covered that their conclusions were not so far apart as he
imagined.
“ Hickory," Byrd at last demanded, “what do you pro-
pose to do with your conclusions ? ”
“ I propose to wait and see if Mr. Orcutt proves his
case. If he don't, I have nothing more to say ; but if he
does, I think I shall call the attention of Mr. Ferris to
one question he has omitted to ask Miss Dare."
“And what is that ?"
“Where she was on the morning of Mrs. Clemmens'
murder. You remember you took some interest in that
question yourself a while ago."
“But "
“ Not that I think any thing will come of it, only my
conscience will be set at rest."

Then, as he saw Byrd look grave, added : .


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 301
“ Hickory,"—Byrd's face had quite altered now-
“ where do you think Miss Dare was at that time? "
“ Where do I think she was ? ” repeated Hickory.
“ Well, I will tell you. I think she was not in Professor
Darling's observatory."
“Do you think she was in the glade back of Widow
Clemmens' house ? ”
“ Now you ask me conundrums."
“ Hickory ! ” Byrd spoke almost violently, “ Mr.
Orcutt shall not prove his case."
“ No ? ”
“ I will make the run over the ground supposed to
have been taken by Mansell in his flight, and show in
my own proper person that it can be done in the time
specified."
Hickory's eye, which had taken a rapid survey of his
companion's form during the utterance of the above,
darkened, then he slowly shook his head.
“ You could n't," he rejoined laconically. “ Too little
staying power; you 'd give out before you got clear of
the woods. Better delegate the job to me."
“ To you ?"
“ Yes. I 'm of the make to stand long runs ; besides I
am no novice at athletic sports of any kind. More than
one race has owed its interest to the efforts of your hum-
ble servant. ‘T is my pet amusement, you see, as off.hand
drawing is yours, and is likely to be of as much use to
me, eh ?”


362 HAND AND RING.
-“ Hickory, you are chafling me."
“Think so? Do you see that five.barred gate over
there P Well, now keep your eye on the top rail and see
if I clear it without a graze or not." .
“ Stop ! " exclaimed Mr. Byrd, “ddn't make a fool of
yourself in the public street. I 'll believe you if you say
you understand such things."
“ Well, I do, and what is more, I ‘m an adept at them.
If I can't make that run in the time requisite to show that
Mansell could have committed the murder, and yet ar-
rive at the station the moment he did, I don't know of a
chap who can."
“ Hickory, do you mean to say you will make this
run ?"
“Yes."
“With a conscientious effort to prove that Orcutt's
scheme of defence is false?"
“ Yes."
“ When ?"
“ To.morrow."
“ While we are in court ? "
“ Yes."
Byrd turned square around, gave Hickory a look and
offered his hand.
“ You are a good fellow," he declared, “May luck go
with you."
Hickory suddenly became unusually thoughtful.
“A little while ago," he reflected, “ this fellow's sympa-


THE SCALES oF JUSTICE. 363
thies were all with Mansell; now he would risk my limbs
and neck to have the man proved guilty. He does not
wish Miss Dare to be questioned again, I see."
“ Hickory," resumed Byrd, a few minutes later, “ Or-
cutt has not rested the defence upon this one point with-
out being very sure of its being unassailable."
“ I know that."
“ He has had more than one expert make that run dur-
ing the weeks that have elapsed since the murder. It has
been tested to the uttermost."
“ I know t/lat."
“ If you succeed then in doing what none of these
others have, it must be by dint of a better understanding
of the route you have to take and the difficulties you will
have to overcome. Now, do you understand the route ?"
“ I think so."
“You will have to start from the widow's door, you
know ?"
“ Certain."
“Cross the bog, enter the woods, skirt the hut—but I
won't go into details. The best way to prove you know
exactly what you have to do is to see if you can describe
the route yourself. Come into my room, old fellow, and
let us see if you can give me a sufliciently exact account
of the ground you will have to pass over, for me to draw
up a chart by it. An hour spent with paper and pencil
to.night may save you from an uncertainty to.morrow
that would lose you a good ten minutes."


364 HAND AND RING.
“Good! that ‘s an idea; let 's try it," rejoined Hick-
ory.
And being by this time at the hotel, they went in. In
another moment they were shut up in Mr. Byrd's room,
with a large sheet of foolscap before them.
“ Now," cried Horace, taking up a pencil, “ begin with
your description, and I will follow with my drawing."
“Very well," replied Hickory, setting himself forward
in a way to watch his colleague's pencil. “I leave the
widow's house by the dining.room door—a square for the
house, Byrd, well down in the left.hand corner of the
paper, and a dotted line for the path I take,—run down
the yard to the fence, leap it, cross the bog, and make
straight for the woods."
“Very good," commented Byrd, sketching rapidly as
the other spoke.
“Having taken care to enter where the trees are thin-
nest, I find a path along which I rush in a bee.line till I
come to the glade—an ellipse for the glade, Byrd, with a
dot in it for the hut. Merely stopping to dash into-the
N
hut and out again
“Wait ! ” put in Byrd, pausing with his pencil in mid-
air ; “ what did you want to go into the hut for ? ”
“ To get the bag which I propose to leave there to-
night."
H ?!l
“Yes ; Mansell carried a bag, did n't he? Don't you
remember what the station.master said about the curious



la
at
E
E
Q.
E
9.7
In?
an
§
SUMMER AVENUE

(P1126 354.)





THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 365 .
portmanteau the fellow had in his hand when he came to
the station ? "
“ Yes, but "
“Byrd, if I run that fellow to his death it must be
fairly. A man with an awkward bag in his hand cannot
run like a man without one. So I handicap myself in the
same way he did, do you see ? ”
“ Yes."
“Very well, then; I rush into the hut, pick up the bag,
carry it out, and dash immediately into the woods at the
opening behind the hut.—What are you doing?"
“Just putting in a few landmarks," explained Byrd,
who had run his pencil off in an opposite direction.
“ See, that is the path to West Side which I followed in
my first expedition through the woods—the path, too,
which Miss Dare took when she came to the hut at the
time of the fearful thunderstorm. And wait, let me put

in Professor Darling's house, too, and the ridge from
which you can see Mrs. Clemmens' cottage. It will help
H
us to understan
“ What? " cried Hickory, with quick suspiciousness, as
the other paused.
But Byrd, impatiently shaking his head, answered :
“ The whole situation, of course.' Then, pointing
hastily back to the hut, exclaimed: “ So you have entered
the woods again at this place? Very well; what then ? ”
“Well, then," resumed Hickory, “I make my way
along the path I find there—run it at right angles to the .


366 HAND AND RING.
one leading up to the glade—till I come to a stony ledge
covered with blackberry bushes. (A very cleverly drawn
blackberry patch that, Byrd.) Here I fear I shall have to
pause."
“Why 2"
“Because, deuce take me if I can remember where the
path runs after that."
“But I can. A big hemlock.tree stands just at the
point where the woods open again. Make for that and
you will be all right."
“ Good enough ; but it 's mighty rough travelling over
that ledge, and I shall have to go at a foot's pace. The
stones are slippery as glass, and a fall would scarcely be
conducive to the final success of my scheme."
“ I will make the path serpentine."
“ That will be highly expressive."
“ And now, what next? "
“The Foresters' Road, Byrd, upon which I ought to
come about this time. Run it due east and west—not
that I have surveyed the ground, but it looks more
natural so—and let the dotted line traverse it toward the
right, for that is the direction in which I shall go."
“ It 's done," said Byrd.
“ Well, description fails me now. All I know is, I
come out on a hillside running straight down to the
river.bank and that the highway is visible beyond,
leading directly to the station; but the way to get to
.:.-‘r_..
it I!


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 367
“ I will show you," interposed Byrd, mapping out the
station and the intervening river with a few quick strokes
of his dexterous pencil. “ You see this point where you
issue from the woods? Very good ; it is, as you say, on
a hillside overlooking the river. Well, it seems unfortu-
nate, but there is no way of crossing that river at this
point. The falls above and below make it no place for
boats, and you will have to go back along its banks for
some little distance before you come to a bridge. But
there is no use in hesitating or looking about for a
shorter path. The woods just here are encumbered with
a mass of tangled undergrowth which make them simply
impassable except as you keep in the road, while the
river curves so frequently and with so much abruptness
—see, I will endeavor to give you some notion of it here
—that you would only waste time in attempting to make

any short cuts. But, once over the bridge
“I have only to foot .it," burst in Hickory, taking up
the sketch which the other had now completed, and
glancing at it with a dubious eye. “Do you know,
Byrd," he remarked in another moment, “that it strikes
me Mansell did not take this roundabout road to the
station ? ” "
“ Why ? " '
“ Because it is so roundabout, and he is such a clear-
headed fellow. Could n't he have got there by some
shorter cut ?”
“ No. Don't you remember how Orcutt cross.exam-


368 HAND AND RING.
. . _—-...¢-..-_
IF
ined the station.master about the appearance which
Mansell presented when he came upon the platform,
and how that person was forced to acknowledge that,
although the prisoner looked heated and exhausted, his
clothes were neither muddied nor torn ? N ow,..I did not
think of it at the time, but this was done by Orcutt to
prove that Mansell did take the road I have jotted down
here, since any other would have carried him through
swamps knee.deep with mud, or amongst stones and
briers which would have put him in a state of disorder
totally unfitting him for travel."
“That is so," acquiesced Hickory, after a moment's
thought. “Mansell must be kept in the path. Well,
well, we will see to.morrow if wit and a swift foot can
make any thing out of this problem."
“Wit? Hickory, it will be wit and not a swift foot.
Or luck, maybe I should call it, or rather provi-
dence. If a wagon should be going along the highway,
now -—. ”
“ Let me alone for availing myself of it," laughed
Hickory. “Wagon! I would jump on the back of a
mule sooner than lose the chance of gaining a minute on
these experts whose testimony we are to hear to.morrow.
Don't lose confidence in old Hickory yet. He 's the boy
for this job if he is n't for any other."
And so the matter was settled.


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 369
XXXI.
THE CHIEF WITNESS FOR THE DEFENCE.
Your If is the only peace.maker; much virtue in 1f.—As You Lncir IT.
' ‘ ‘HE crowd that congregated at the court.house the
next morning was even greater than at any pre-
vious time. The opening speech of Mr. Orcutt had been
telegraphed all over the country, and many who had not
been specially interested in the case before felt an anxi-
ety to hear how he would substantiate the defence he had
so boldly and confidently put forth.
To the general eye, however, the appearance of the
court.room was much the same as on the previous day.
Only to the close observer was it evident that the counte-
nances of the several actors in this exciting drama wore a
different expression. Mr. Byrd, who by dint of the most
energetic effort had succeeded in procuring his old seat,
was one of these, and as he noted the significant change,
wished that Hickory had been at his side to note it with
him.
The first person he observed was, naturally, the Iudge.
Judge Evans, who has been but barely introduced to
the reader, was a man of great moral force and discretion.
He had occupied his present position for many years, and


370 ' HAND AND RING.
possessed not only the confidence but the affections of
those who came within the sphere of his jurisdiction.
The reason for this undoubtedly lay in his sympathetic
nature. While never accused of weakness, he so unmis-
takably retained the feeling heart under the oflicial er-
mine that it was by no means an uncommon thing for him
to show more emotion in uttering a sentence than the
man he condemned did in listening to it.
His expression, then, upon this momentous morning
was of great significance to Mr. Byrd. In its hopefulness
and cheer was written the extent of the effect made upon
the unprejudiced mind by the promised defence.
As for Mr. Orcutt himself, no advocate could display a
more confident air or prepare to introduce his witnesses
with more dignity or quiet assurance. His self.possession
was so marked, indeed, that Mr. Byrd, who felt a sympa-
thetic interest in what he knew to be seething.in this
man's breast, was greatly surprised, and surveyed, with a
feeling almost akin to awe, the lawyer who could so sink
all personal considerations in the cause he was trying.
Miss Dare, on the contrary, was in a state of nervous
agitation. Though no movement betrayed this, the very
force of the restraint she put upon herself showed the
extent of her inner excitement.
The prisoner alone remained unchanged. Nothing
could shake his steady soul from its composure, not the
possibility of death or the prospect of release. He was
absolutely imposing in his quiet presence, and Mr. Byrd


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 371
could not but admire the power of the man even while
recoiling from his supposed guilt.
The opening of the defence carried the minds of many
back to the inquest. The nice question of time was gone
into, and the moment when Mrs. Clemmens was found
lying bleeding and insensible at the foot of her dining-
room clock, fixed at three or four minutes past noon.
The next point to be ascertained was when she received
the deadly blow.
And here the great surprise of the defence occurred.
Mr. Orcutt rose, and in clear, firm tones said :
“ Gouverneur Hildreth, take the stand." ‘
Instantly, and before the witness could comply, Mr.
Ferris was on his feet.
“Who ? what ? ” he cried.
“ Gouverneur Hildreth," repeated Mr. Orcutt.
“Did you know this gentleman has already been in
custody upon suspicion of having committed the crime
for which the prisoner is now being tried ?" .
“ I do," returned Mr. Orcutt, with imperturbable rang
froia’.
“ And is it your intention to save your client from the
gallows by putting the halter around the neck of the man
you now propose to call as a witness ? ”
“ No," retorted Mr. Orcutt ; “ I do not propose to put
the halter about any man's neck. That is the proud
privilege of my learned and respected opponent."
With an impatient frown Mr. Ferris sat down, while


372 HAND AND RING.
Mr. Hildreth, who had taken advantage of this short pas-
sage of arms between the lawyers to retain his place in
the remote corner where he was more or less shielded
from the curiosity of the crowd, rose, and, with a slow
and painful movement that at once attracted attention to
his carefully bandaged throat and the general air of
debility which surrounded him, came hesitatingly for-
ward and took his stand in face of the judge and jury.
Necessarily a low murmur greeted him from the throng
of interested spectators who saw in this appearance be-
fore them of the man who, by no more than a hair's-
breadth, had escaped occupying the position of the
prisoner, another of those dramatic incidents with which
this trial seemed fairly to bristle.
It was hushed by one look from the Judge, but not
before it had awakened in Mr. Hildreth's weak and
sensitive nature those old emotions of shame and rage
whose token was a flush so deep and profuse it uncon-
sciously repelled the gaze of all who beheld it. Immedi-
ately Mr. Byrd, who sat with bated breath, as it were, so
intense was hisexcitement over the unexpected turn of
affairs, recognized the full meaning of the situation, and
awarded to Mr. Orcutt all the admiration which his
skill in bringing it about undoubtedly deserved. In-
deed, as the detective's quick glance flashed first at the
witness, cringing in his old unfortunate way before the
gaze of the crowd, and then at the prisoner sitting un-
moved and quietly disdainful in his dignity and pride,


374. HAND AND RING.
ful to show neither scorn nor prejudice when he turned
toward the witness and began his interrogations.
On the contrary, his manner was highly respectful, if
not considerate, and his questions while put with such
art as to keep the jury constantly alert to the anomalous
position which the witness undoubtedly held, were of a
nature mainly to call forth the one fact for which his
testimony was presumably desired. This was, his pres-
ence in the widow's house on the morning of the murder,
and the fact that he saw her and conversed with her and
could swear to her being alive and unhurt up to a few
minutes before noon. To be sure, the precise minute of
his leaving her in this condition Mr. Orcutt failed to
gather from the witness, but, like the coroner atthe in-
quest, he succeeded in eliciting enough to show that the
visit had been completed prior to the appearance of the
tramp at the widow's kitchen.door, as it had been begun
after the disappearance of the Danton children from the
front of the widow's house.
This fact being established and impressed upon the
jury, Mr. Orcutt with admirable judgment cut short his
own examination of the witness, and passed him over to
the District Attorney, with a grim smile, suggestive of his
late taunt, that to this gentleman belonged the special
privilege of weaving halters for the necks of unhappy
criminals.
Mr. Ferris who understood his adversary's tactics only
too well, but who in his anxiety for the truth could not


THE SCALES oF JUSTICE. 375
afford to let such an opportunity for reaching it slip by,
opened his cross.examination with great vigor.
The result could not but be favorable to the defence
and damaging to the prosecution. The position which
Mr. Hildreth must occupy if the prisoner was acquitted,
was patent to all understandings, making each and every
admission on his part tending to exculpate the latter, of
a manifest force and significance.
Mr. Ferris, however, was careful not to exceed his duty
or press his inquiries beyond due bounds. The man
they were trying was not Gouverneur Hildreth but Craik
Mansell, and to press the witness too close, was to urge
him into admissions seemingly so damaging to himself as,
in the present state of affairs, to incur the risk of distract-
ing attention entirely from the prisoner.
Mr. Hildreth's examination being at an end, Mr.
Orcutt proceeded with his case, by furnishing proof cal-
culated to fix the moment at which Mr. Hildreth had
made his call. This was done in much the same way as
it was at the inquest. Mrs. Clemmens' next.door neigh-
bor, Mrs. Danton, was summoned to the stand, and after
her her two children, the testimony of the three, taken
with Mr. Hildreth's own acknowledgments, making it
very evident to all who listened that he could not have
-gone into Mrs. Clemmens' house before a quarter to
twelve.
The natural inference followed. Allowing the least
possible time for his interview with Mrs. Clemmens, the


376
HAND AND RING.
moment at which the witness swore to having seen her
alive and unhurt must have been as late as ten minutes
before noon.
Taking pains to impress this time upon the jury, Mr.
Orcutt next proceeded to fix the moment at which the
prisoner arrived at Monteith Quarry Station. As the
fact of his having arrived in time to take the afternoon
train to Buffalo had been already proved by the prosecu-
tion, it was manifestly necessary only to determine at
what hour the train was due, and whether it had come in
on time.
The hour was ascertained, by direct consultation with
the road"s time.table, to be just twenty minutes past one,
and the station.master having been called to the stand,
gave it as his best knowledge and belief that the train had
been on time. '
This, however, not being deemed explicit enough for
the purposes of the defence, there was submitted to the
jury a telegram bearing the date of that same day, and
distinctly stating that the train was on time. This was
testified to by the conductor of the train as having been
sent by him to the superintendent of the road who was
awaiting the cars at Monteith ; and was received as evi-
dence and considered as conclusively fixing the hour at
which the prisoner arrived at the Quarry Station as
twenty minutes past one.
This settled, witnesses were called to testify as to the
nature of the path by which he must have travelled from
I
_-.


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 377
the widow's house to the station. A chart similar to that
Mr. Byrd had drawn, but more explicit and nice in its
details, was submitted to the jury by an actual surveyor
of the ground; after which, and the establishment of
other minor details not necessary to enumerate here, a
man of well.known proficiency in running and other
athletic sports, was summoned to the stand.
Mr. Byrd, who up to this moment had shared in the
interest every where displayed in the defence, now felt
his attention wandering. The fact is, he had heard the
whistle of the train on which Hickory had promised to
return to Sibley, and interesting as was the testimony
given by the witness, he could not prevent his eyes from
continually turning toward the door by which he expected
Hickory to enter.
Strange to say, Mr. Orcutt seemed to take a like inter-
est in that same door, and was more than once detected
by Byrd flashing a hurried glance in its direction, as if he,
too, were on the look.out for some one.
Meantime the expert in running was saying :
“It took me one hundred and twenty minutes to go
over the ground the first time, and one hundred and
fifteen minutes the next. I gained five minutes the sec-
ond time, you see," he explained, “by knowing my ground
better and by saving my strength where it was of no avail
to attempt great speed. The last time I made the effort,
however, I lost three minutes on my former time. The
wood road which I had to take for some distance was


3 78 HAND AND RING.
deep with mud, and my feet sank with every step. The
shortest time, then, which I was able to make in three
attempts, was one hundred and fifteen minutes."
Now, as the time between the striking of the fatal blow
and the hour at which the prisoner arrived at the Quarry
Station was only ninety minutes, a general murmur of
satisfaction followed this announcement. It was only
momentary, however, for Mr. Ferris, rising to cross.ex-
amine the witness, curiosity prevailed over all lesser emo-
tions, and an immediate silence followed without the
intervention of the Court.
“ Did you make these three runs from Mrs. Clemmens'
house to Monteith Quarry Station entirely on foot ?"
“ I did, sir."
“ Was that necessary ? ” ,
.
“Yes, sir; as far as the highway, at least. The path
through the woods is not wide enough for a horse, unless
it be for that short distance where the Foresters' Road
intervenes."
“And you ran there ?"
“Yes, sir, twice at full speed; the third time I had the
experience I have told you of."
“And how long do you think it took you to go over
that especial portion of ground ?"
“ Five minutes, maybe."
“ And, supposing you had had a horse ?"
“Well, sir, if I had had a horse, and if he had been
waiting there, all ready for me to jump on his back, and


THE SCALES OF ]USTICE. ' 379
if he had been a good runner and used to the road, I
think I could have gone over it in two minutes, if I had
not first broken my neck on some of the jagged stones
that roughen the road."
“ In other words, you could have saved three minutes
if you had been furnished with a horse at that particular
spot ? "
“ Yes, zf."
Mr. Orcutt, whose eye had been fixed upon the door at
this particular juncture, now looked back at the witness
and hurriedly rose to his feet.
“Has my esteemed friend any testimony on hand to
prove that the prisoner had a horse at this place? if he
has not, I object to these questions."
“ What testimony I have to produce will come in at its
proper time," retorted Mr. Ferris. “Meanwhile, I think
I have a right to put this' or any other kind of similar
question to the witness."
The Judge acquiescing with a nod, Mr. Orcutt sat
down.
Mr. Ferris went on.
“ Did you meet any one on the road during any of
these three runs which you made ?"
“ No, sir. That is, I met no one in the woods. There
were one or two persons on the highway the last time I
ran over it."
“ Were they riding or walking ?”
“ Walking."


380 HAND AND RING.
Here Mr. Orcutt interposed.
“Did you say that in passing over the highway you
ran ?”
“Yes, sir."
“Why did you do this? ’ Had you not been told that
the prisoner was seen to be walking when he came down
the road to the station?" ‘ '
' “Yes, sir. But I was in for time, you see."
“And you did not make it even with that advan-
tage P"
“ No, sir."
The second expert had the same story to tell, with a
few variations. He had made one of his runs in five
minutes less than the other had done, but it was by a
great exertion that left him completely exhausted when
he arrived at the station. It was during his cross-
examination that Hickory at last came in. '
Horace Byrd, who had been growing very impatient
during the last few minutes, happened to be looking at
the door when it opened to admit this late comer. 'So
was Mr. Orcutt. But Byrd did not notice this, or Hick-
ory either. If they had, perhaps Hickory would have
been more careful to hide his feelings. As it was, he no
sooner met his colleague's eye than he gave a quick,
despondent shake of the head in intimation that he had
failea’.
Mr. Byrd, who had anticipated a different result,
was greatly disappointed. His countenance fell and


THE SCALES OFJUSTICE. 381
he cast a glance of compassion at Miss Dare, now '
flushing with a secret but slowly growing hope. The de-
fence, then, was good, and she ran the risk of being in-
terrogated again. It was a prospect from which Mr.
Byrd recoiled.
As soon as Hickory got the chance, he made his way
to the side of Byrd.
“ No go," was his low but expressive salutation. “ One
hundred and five minutes is the shortest time in which I
can get over the ground, and that by a deuced hard
scramble of it too."
“But that 's five minutes' gain on the experts," Byrd
whispered.
.“ Is it?- Hope I could gain something on them, but
what 's five minutes' gain in an affair like this ? Fifteen
is what 's wanted."
“ I know it."
“And fifteen I cannot make, nor ten either, unless a
pair of wings should be given me to carry me over the
river."
“ Sure ? ”
“Sure ! ”
Here there was some commotion in their vicinity,
owing to the withdrawal of the last witness from the
stand. Hickory took advantage of the bustle to lean
over and whisper in Byrd's ear :
“Do you know I think I have been watched to.day.
There was a fellow concealed in Mrs. Clemmens' house,


382 HAND AND RING.
___ _...'...,.».¢..._
who saw me leave it, and who, I have no doubt, took
express note of the time I started. And there was another
chap hanging round the station at the quarries, whom I
am almost sure had no business there unless it was to see
at what moment I arrived. He came back to Sibley
when I did, but hetelegraphed first, and it is my opinion
that Orcutt ” '
Here he was greatly startled by hearing his name

spoken in a loud and commanding tone of voice. Stop-
ping short, he glanced up, encountered the eye of Mr.
Orcutt fixed upon him from the other side of the court-
room, and realized he was being summoned to the wit-
ness stand.
“The deuce! ” he murmured, with a look at Byrd to
which none but an artist could do justice.


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 383
XXXII.
HICKORY.
Hickory, dickory, dock l
The mouse ran up the clock l
The clock struck one,
And down he run !
Hickory, dickory, dock !
—Mo'ri'inn Goosz MELoDIES.
ICKORY'S face was no new one to the court. He
H had occupied a considerable portion of one day in
giving testimony for the prosecution, and his rough man-
ner and hardy face, twinkling, however, at times with an
irrepressible humor that redeemed it and him from all
charge of ugliness, were well known not only to the jury
but to all the habitue’s of the trial. Yet, when he stepped
upon the stand at the summons of Mr. Orcutt, every eye
turned toward him with curiosity, so great was the sur-
prise with which his name had been hailed, and so vivid
the interest aroused in what a detective devoted to the
cause of the prosecution might have to say in the way of
supporting the defence.
The first question uttered by Mr. Orcutt served to put
them upon the right track.
“ Will you tell the court where you have been to.day,
Mr. Hickory?"


384 HAND AND RING. .
.-.'_ -_.-~ -._-
“ Well," replied the witness in a slow and ruminating
tone of voice, as he cast a look at Mr. Ferris, half apolo-
getic and half reassuring, “ I have been in a good many

places
“You know what I mean," interrupted Mr. Orcutt.
“Tell the court where you were between the hours of
eleven and a quarter to one," he added, with a quick
glance at the paper he held in his hand.
“ Oh,t/zen," cried Hickory, suddenly relaxing into his
drollest self. “ Well, I/zen, I was all along the route from
Sibley to Monteith Quarry Station. I don't think I was
stationary at any one minute of the time, sir."

“ In other words " suggested Mr. Orcutt, severely.
“I was trying to show myself smarter than my betters ;”
bowing with a great show of respect to the two experts
who sat near. “ Or, in other words still, I was trying to '
make the distance between Mrs. Clemmens' house and
the station I have mentioned, in time sufficient to upset
the defence, sir."
And the look he cast at Mr. Ferris was wholly apolo-
getic now
“Ah, I understand, and at whose suggestion did you
undertake to do this, Mr. Hickory ?"
“At the suggestion of a friend of mine, who is also
somewhat of a detective."
“And when was this suggestion given ?”
“ After your speech, sir, yesterday afternoon.”
“ And where ?"


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 385
“ At the hotel, sir, where I and my friend put up."
“Did not the counsel for the prosecution order you to
make this attempt ? "
“ No, sir."
“ Did he not know you were going to make it ?"
“ No, sir." Q’
“ Who did know it ? "
“ My friend."
“ No one else ? "
“ Well, sir, judging trom my present position, I should
say there seems to have been some one else," the witness
slyly retorted.
The calmness with which Mr. Orcutt carried on this
examination suffered a momentary disturbance.
“ You know what I mean," he returned. “ Did you
tell any one but your friend that you were going to under-
take this run ? "
“ No, sir."
‘l Mr. Hickory," thelawyer now pursued, “ will you tell
us why you considered yourself qualified to succeed in an
attempt where you had already been told regular experts
had failed ?"
“Well, sir, I don't know unless you find the solution
in the slightly presumptive character of my disposition."
“ Had you ever run before or engaged in athletic
sports of any kind ? ”
“ Oh, yes, I have run before."
“ And engaged in athletic sports ?"


386 HAND AND RING.
“ Yes, sir."
“ Mr. Hickory, have you ever run in a race with men
of well.known reputation for speed? "
“ Well, yes, I have."
“ Did you ever wip in running such a race? "
“ Once."
“ No more ?"
“ Well, then, twice."
The dejection with which this last assent came forth
roused the mirth of some light.hearted, feather.headed
people, but the officers of the court soon put a stop
to that.
“Mr. Hickory, will you tell us whether on account of
having twice beaten in a race requiring the qualifications
of a professional runner, you considered yourself quali-
fied to judge of the feasibility of any other man's making
the distance from Mrs. Clemmens' house to Monteith
Quarry Station in ninety minutes by your own ability or
non.ability to do so ?"
“Yes, sir, I did ; but a man's judgment of his own
qualifications don't go very far, I 've been told."
“ I did not ask you for any remarks, Mr. Hickory.
This is a serious matter and demands serious treatment.
I asked if in undertaking to make this run in ninety min-
utes you did not presume to judge of the feasibility of the
prisoner having made it in that time, and you answered,
‘ Yes.' It was enough."
The witness bowed with an air of great innocence.


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 387"
“ Now," resumed the lawyer, “ you say you made a run
from Mrs. Clemmens' house to Monteith Quarry Station
to.day. Before telling us in what time you did it, will
you be kind enough to say what route you took ?” .
“ The one, sir, which has been pointed out by the prose-
cution as that which the prisoner undoubtedly took—the
path through the woods and over the bridge to the high-
way. I knew no other."
“ Did you know t/zis ? "
“ Yes, sir."
“ How came you to know it ? "
“ I had been over it before."
“ The whole distance ? "
“ Yes, sir."
Mr. Hickory, were you well enough acquainted with
the route not to be obliged to. stop at any point during
your journey to see if you were in the right path or tak-
ing the most direct road to your destination ?"
“ Yes, sir."
“ And when you got to the river ? ”
“ I turned straight to the right and made for the
bridge."
“ Did you not pause long enough to see if you could
not cross the stream in some way ?"
“No, sir. I don't know how to swim in my clothes
and keep them dry, and as for my wings, I had unfortu-
nately left them at home."
Mr. Orcutt frowned.


388 HAND AND RING.
“ These attempts at humor," said he, “are very mal
dprapos, Mr. Hickory." Then, with a return to his usual
tone : “ Did you cross the bridge at a run?"
“Yes, sir."
“ And did you keep up your pace when you got to the
highroad ? "
“ No, I did not."
“ You did not ?"
“ No, sir."
. “ And why, may I ask?"
“ I was tired."
“ Tired ? "
“ Yes, sir."
There was a droll demureness in the way Hickory said
this which made Mr. Orcutt pause. But in another
minute he went on.
“ And what pace do you take when you are tired ?"
“A horse's pace when I can get it," was the laughing
reply. “ A team was going by, sir, and I just jumped up
with the driver.” 7 ' ' '
“Ah, you rode, then, part of the way? Was it a fast
team, Mr. Hickory? "
“ Well, it was n't one of Bonner's."
“ Did they go faster than a man could run?” '
“Yes, sir, I am obliged to say they did."
“And how long did you ride behind them?"
“ Till I got in sight of the station."
"Why did you not go farther ? "


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 389
“Because I had been told the prisoner was seen to
walk up to the station, and I meant to be fair to him
when I knew how."
“ Oh, you did ; and do you think it was fair to him to
steal a ride on the highway ?”
“ Yes, sir."
“ And why ?"
“ Because no one has ever told me he did n't ride down
the highway, at least till he came within sight of the
station."
“ Mr. Hickory," inquired the lawyer, severely, “ are
you in possession of any knowledge proving that he
did ?”
“ No, sir."
Mr. Byrd, who had been watching the prisoner breath-
lessly through all this, saw or thought he saw the faintest
shadow of an odd, disdainful smile cross his sternly com-
posed features at this moment. But he could not be sure.
There was enough in the possibility, however, to make
the detective thoughtful ; but Mr. Orcutt proceeding
rapidly with his examination, left him no time to formu-
late his sensations into words.
“ So that by taking this wagon you are certain you lost
no time ? "
“ Yes, sir."
“ Rather gained some P”
“Yes, sir."
“ Mr. Hickory, will you now state whether you put
<..


390 HAND AND RING.
forth your full speed to.day ih going from Mrs. Clem-
mens' house to the Quarry Station?"
“I did not."
“ What ? "
“I did not put forth any thing like my full speed, sir,"
the witness repeated, with a twinkle in the direction of
Byrd that fell just short of being a decided wink.
“And why, may I ask? What restrained you from
running as fast as you could? Sympathy for the de-
fence ? ”
The ironical suggestion conveyed in this last question
gave Hickory an excuse for indulging in his peculiar
humor. -
“ N 0, sir ; sympathy for the prosecution. I feared the
loss of one .of its most humble but valuable assistants.
In other words, I was afraid I should break my neck."
“ And why should you have any special fears of break-
ing your neck?"
“ The path is so uneven, sir. No man could run
for much of the way without endangering his life or at
least his limbs."
“ Did you run when you could?"
“ Yes, sir."
“And in those places where you could not run, did you
proceed as fast as you knew how ? ”
“Yes, sir."
“Very well; now I think it is time you told the jury
just how many minutes it took you to go from Mrs. Clem-
mens' door to the Monteith Quarry Station."


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 391
“ Well, sir, according to my watch, it took one hundred
and five minutes."
Mr. Orcutt glanced impressively at the jury.
“One hundred and five minutes,".he repeated. He
then turned to the witness with his concluding questions.
“ Mr. Hickory, were you present in the court.room just
now when the two experts whom I have employed to
make the run gave their testimony ? ”
“ N o, sir."
“ Do you know in what time they made it ?"
“ I believe I do. I was told by the person whom I in-
formed of my failure that I had gained five minutes upon
them."
“And what did you reply ? "
“That I hoped I could make something on t/rem; but
that five minutes was n't much when a clean fifteen was
wanted," returned Hickory, with another droll look at the
experts and an askance appeal at Byrd, which being trans-
lated might read: “ How in the deuce could this man have
known what I was whispering to you on the other side of
the court.room ? Is he a wizard, this Orcutt ?”
He forgot that a successful lawyer is always more or
less of a wizard.


392 HAND AND RING.
XXXIII.
A LATE DISCOVERY.
Oh, torture me no more, I will confess.-KING LIIAR.
ITH the cross.examination of Hickory, the de-
fence rested, and the day being far advanced,
the court adjourned.
During the bustle occasioned by the departure of the
prisoner, Mr. Byrd took occasion to glance at the faces
of those most immediately concerned in the trial.
His first look naturally fell upon Mr. Orcutt. Ah ! all
was going well with the great lawyer. Hope, if not
triumph, beamed in his eye and breathed in every move-
ment of his alert and nervous form. He was looking
across the court.room at Imogene Dare, and his features
wore a faint smile that indelibly impressed itself upon
Mr. Byrd's memory. Perhaps because there was some-
thing really peculiar and remarkable in its expression,
and perhaps because of the contrast it offered to his own
feelings of secret doubt and dread.
His next look naturally followed that of Mr. Orcutt
and rested upon Imogene Dare. Ah! she was under
the spell of awakening hope also. It was visible in her
lightened brow, her calmer and less studied aspect,
her eager and eloquently speaking gaze yet lingering


f394 HAND AND RING.
Their meeting was singular, and revealed, as by a flash,
the difference between the two men. Byrd contented
himself with giving Hickory a look and saying nothing,
while Hickory bestowed upon Byrd a hearty “ Well, old
fellow ! ” and broke out into a loud and by no means un-
enjoyable laugh.
“ You did n't expect to see me mounting the rostrum
in favor of the defence, did you ? ” he asked, after he had
indulged himself as long as he saw fit in the display
of this somewhat unseasonable mirth. “Well, it was a
surprise. But .1 've done it for Orcutt now ! ”
“ You have ? "
“Yes, I have."
“ But the prosecution has closed its case ? ”
“ Bah ! what of that?" was the careless reply. “ The
District Attorney can get it reopened. No Court would
refuse that."
Horace surveyed his colleague for a moment in
silence.
“So Mr. Ferris was struck with the point you gave
him ?" he ventured, at last.
“Well, sufficiently so to be uneasy," was Hickory's
somewhat dry response.
The look with which Byrd answered him was eloquent.
“And that makes you cheerful?” he inquired, with ill-
concealed sarcasm.
“ Well, it has a slight tendency that way," drawled the
other, seemingly careless of the other's expression, if, in-


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 395
-deed, he had noted it. “ You see," he went on, with a
meaning wink and -a smile of utter unconcern, “ all my
energies just now are concentrated on getting myself even
with that somewhat too wide.awake lawyer." And his
smile broadened till it merged into a laugh that was rasp-
ing enough to Byrd's more delicate and generous sensi-
bilities.
“ Sufiiciently so to be uneasy !" Yes, that was it. From
the minute Mr. Ferris listened to the suggestion that Miss
Dare had not told all she knew about the murder, and
that a question relative to where she had been at the
time it was perpetrated would, in all probability, bring
strange revelations to light, he had been awakened to a
most uncomfortable sense of his position and the
duty that was possibly required of him. To be sure, the
time for presenting testimony to the court was passed, un-
less it was in the way of rebuttal; but how did he
know but what Miss Dare had a fact at her command
which would help the prosecution in overturning the
strange, unexpected, yet simple theory of the defence?
At all events, he felt he ought to know whether, in giv-
ing her testimony she had exhausted her knowledge on
this subject, or whether, in her sympathy for the ac-
cused, she had kept back certain evidence which if
presented might bring the crime more directly home to
the prisoner. Accordingly, somewhere toward eight
o'clock in the evening, he sought her out with the bold
resolution of forcing her to satisfy him on this point.


396 HAND AND RING.
4
He did not find his task so easy, however, when he
came into direct contact with her stately and far from en-
couraging presence, and met the look of surprise not un-
mixed with alarm with which she greeted him. She
looked very weary, too, and yet unnaturally excited, as if
she had not slppt for many nights, if indeed she had
rested at all since the trial began. It struck him as cruel
to further disturb this woman, and yet the longer he sur-
veyed her, the more he studied her pale, haughty, in-
scrutable face, he became the more assured that he
would never feel satisfied with himself if he did not give
her an immediate opportunity to disperse at once and for-
ever these freshly awakened doubts.
His attitude or possibly his expression must have
betrayed something of his anxiety if not of his resolve,
for her countenance fell as she watched him, and her voice
sounded quite unnatural as she strove to ask to what
she was indebted for this unexpected visit.
He did not keep her in suspense.
“ Miss Dare," said he, not without kindness, for he was
very sorry for this woman, despite the inevitable preju-
dice which her relations to the accused had awakened,
“ I would have given much not to have been obliged to
disturb you to.night, but my duty would not allow it.
There is aquestion which I have hitherto omitted to

ask
He paused, shocked; she was swaying from side
to side before his eves, and seemed indeed about to fall.


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 397
But at the outreaching of his hand she recovered herself
and stood erect, the noblest spectacle of a woman
triumphing over the weakness of her body by the
mere force of her indomitable will, that he had ever
beheld.
“Sit down," he gently urged, pushing toward her a
chair. “You have had a hard and dreary week of it;
you are in need of rest."
She did not refuse to avail herself of the chair, though,
as he could not help but notice, she did not thereby relax
one iota of the restraint she put upon herself.
“ I do not understand," she murmured; “ what ques-
tion ?" .
“ Miss Dare, in all you have told the court, in all that
you have told me, about this fatal and unhappy affair, you
have never informed us how it was you first came
to hear of it. You were———"
“I heard it on the street corner," she interrupted, with
what seemed to him an almost feverish haste.
“ First ? "
“ Yes, first."
“Miss Dare, had you been in the street long? Were
you in it at the time the murder happened, do you
think ? "
“I in the street?"
“ Yes," he repeated, conscious from the sudden strange
alteration in her look that he had touched upon a point
Which, to her, was vital with some undefined interest,


.,-',
398 HAND AND RING.
possibly that to which the surmises of Hickory had sup-
plied a clue. “ Were you in the street, or anywhere out-
of.doors at the time the murder occurred P It strikes me
that it would be well for me to know."
“Sir," she cried, rising in her sudden indignation, “ I
thought the time for questions had passed. What means
this sudden inquiry into a matter we have all considered
exhausted, certainly as far as I am concerned."
“ Shall I show you ? " he cried, taking her by the hand
and leading her toward the mirror near by, under one of
those impulses which sometimes effect so much. “ Look
in there at your own face and you will see why I press
this question upon you."
Astonished, if not awed, she followed with her eyes the
direction of his pointing finger, and anxiously surveyed
her own image in the glass. Then, with a quick move-
ment, her hands went up before her face—which till that
moment had kept its counsel so well—and, tottering back
against a table, she stood for a moment communing with
herself, and possibly summoning up her courage for the
conflict she evidently saw before her.
“What is it you wish to know P” she faintly inquired,
after a long period of suspense and doubt. ‘
“Where were you when the clock struck twelve on the
day Mrs. Clemmens was murdered ? ”
Instantly dropping her hands, she turned toward him
with a sudden lift of her majestic figure that was as impos-
ing as it wasunexpected.


400 HAND AND RING.
“Ah ! ” she cried, succumbing with a suppressed
moan to the inexorable destiny that pursued her in this
man, “you have woven a net for me ! "
And she sank again into a chair, where she sat like one
stunned, looking at him with a hollow gaze which filled
his heart with compassion, but which had no power to
shake his purpose as a District Attorney.
“ Yes," he acknowledged, after a moment, “ I have
woven a net for you, but only because I am anxious for
the truth, and desirous of furthering the ends of justice.
I am confident you know more about this crime than you
have ever revealed, Miss Dare ; that you are acquainted
with some fact that makes you certain Mr. Mansell com-
mitted this murder, notwithstanding the defence advanced
in his favor. What is this fact? It is my office to in-
quire. True," he admitted, seeing her draw back with
denial written on every line of her white face, “ you have
a right to refuse to answer me here, but you will have no
right to refuse to answer me to.morrow when I put the
same question to you in the presence of judge and jury."
“And "—her voice was so husky he could but with
difficulty distinguish her words—“ do you intend to re-
call me to the stand to.morrow ?"
“ I am obliged to, Miss Dare."
“But I thought the time for examination was over;
that the witnesses had all testified, and that nothing re-
mained now but for the lawyers to sum up."'
“ When in a case like this the prisoner offers a defence


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 4OI
not anticipated by the prosecution, the latter, of course,
has the right to meet such defence with proof in re-
buttal."
“ Proof in rebuttal? What is that?”
“ Evidence to rebut or prove false the matters ad-
vanced in support of the defence."
“Ah ! ”
“I must do it in this case—if I can, of course."
She did not reply.
“And even if the testimony I desire to put in is not
rebuttal in its character, no unbiassed judge would deny
to counsel the privilege of reopening his case when any
new or important fact has come to light."
As if overwhelmed by a prospect she had not antici-
pated, she hurriedly arose and pointed down the room to
a curtained recess.
“ Give me five minutes," she cried ; “five minutes by
myself where no one can look at me, and where I can
think undisturbed upon what I had better do."
“Very well," he acquiesced ; “you shall have them."
She at once crossed to the small retreat.
“Five minutes," she reiterated huskily, as she lifted
the curtains aside ; “ when the clock strikes nine I will
come out."
“ You will?" he repeated, doubtfully.
“ I will."
The curtains fell behind her, and for five long minutes
Mr. Ferris paced the room alone. He was far from


» ........
402 HAND AND RING.
easy. All was so quiet behind that curtain,—-so preter-
naturally quiet. But he would not disturb her; no, he
had promised, and she should be left to fight her battle
alone. When nine o'clock struck, however, he started, and
owned to himself some secret dread. Would she come
forth or would he have to seek her in her place of seclu-
sion. Iut seemed he would have to seek her, for the cur-
tains did not stir, and by no sound from within was any
token given that she had heard the summons. Yet he
hesitated, and as he did so, a thought struck him. Could
it be there was any outlet from the refuge she had
sought ? Had she taken advantage of his consideration
to escape him? Moved by the fear, he hastily crossed
the room. But before he could lay h.is band upon the
curtains, they parted, and disclosed the form of Imo-
gene.
. “Iam coming," she murmured, and stepped forth
more like a faintly.breathing image than a living
woman.
His first glance at her face convinced him she .had
taken her resolution. His second, that in taking it she
had drifted into a state of feeling different from any he
had observed in her before, and of a sort that to him was
wholly inexplicable. Her words when she spoke only
deepened this impression.
“Mr. Ferris," said she, coming very near to him in
evident dread of being overheard, “ I have decided to
tell you all. I hoped never to be obliged to do this. ' I



“ The curtains parted and disclosed the form of Imogene. I am coming,' she
murmured, and stepped forth."—(Page 402.)





THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 403
thought enough had been revealed to answer your pur-
pose. I—I believed Heaven would spare me this last
trial, let me keep this last secret. It was of so strange a
nature, so totally out of the reach of any man's surmise.
But the finger of God is on me. It has followed this
crime from the beginning, and there is no escape. By
some strange means, some instinct of penetration, per-
haps, you have discovered that I know something con-
cerning this murder of which I have never told you, and
that the hourl spent at Professor Darling's is account-
able for this knowledge. Sir, I cannot struggle with
Providence. I will tell you all I have hitherto hidden
from the world if you will promise to let me know if my
words will prove fatal, and if he—he who is on trial for
his life—will be lost if I give to the court my last evidence
against him ? ”
“ But, Miss Dare," remonstrated the District Attorney,
“no man can tell ” He did not finish his sentence.
Something in 'the feverish gaze she fixed upon him
stopped him. He felt that he could not palter with a
woman in the grasp of an agony like this. So, starting
again, he observed: “Let me hear what you have to say,
and afterward we will consider what the effect of it may

be; though a question of expediency should not come
into your consideration, Miss Dare, in telling such truths
as the law demands."
“ No ?” she broke out, giving way for one instant to a
low and terrible laugh which curdled Mr. Ferris' blood


. -_p...
404 HAND AND RING.
and made him wish his duty had led him into the midst.
of any other scene than this.
But before he could remonstrate with her, this harrow-
ing expression of misery had ceased, and she was saying
in quiet and suppressed tones :
“ The reason I did not see and respond to the girl who
came into the observatory on the morning of Mrs. Clem-
mens' murder is, that I was so absorbed in the discoveries
I was making behind the high rack which shuts off one
end of the room, that any appeal to me at that time must
have passed unnoticed. I had come to Professor Dar-
ling's house, according to my usual custom on Tuesday
mornings, to study astronomy with his daughter Helen.
I had come reluctantly, for my mind was full of the se-
cret intention I had formed of visiting Mrs. Clemmens in
the afternoon, and I had no heart for study. But finding
Miss Darling out, I felt a drawing toward the seclusion I
knew I should find in the observatory, and mounting to
it, I sat down by myself to think. The rest and quiet of
the place were soothing to me, and I sat still a long time,
but suddenly becoming impressed with the idea that it
was growing late, I went to the window to consult the
town.clock. But though its face could be plainly seen
from the observatory, its hands could not, and I was about
to withdraw from the window when I remembered the
telescope, which Miss Darling and I had, in a moment of
caprice a few days before, so arranged as to command a
view of the town. Going to it, I peered --through it at the


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 405
clock." Stopping, she surveyed the District Attorney with
breathless suspense. “ It was just five minutes .to. twelve,"
she impressively whispered.
Mr. Ferris felt a shock.
“ A critical moment!" he exclaimed. Then, with a
certain intuition of what she was going to say next, in-
quired : “ And what then, Miss Dare ? "
“ I was struck by a desire to see if I could detect Mrs.
Clemmens' house from where I was, and shifting the
telescope slightly, I looked through it again, and "
“ What did you see, Miss Dare ?"
“ I saw her dining.room door standing. ajar and a

man leaping headlong over the fence toward the
bog."
The District Attorney started, looked at her with grow-
ing interest, and inquired :
“ Did you recognize this man, Miss Dare ? ”
She nodded in great agitation.
“ Who was he ? "
“ Craik Mansell."
“ Miss Dare," ventured Mr. Ferris, after a moment,
“you say this was five minutes to twelve ? "
“Yes, sir," was the faint reply.
“Five minutes later than the time designated by the
defence as a period manifestly too late for the prisoner to
have left Mrs. Clemmens' house and arrived at the
Quarry Station at twenty minutes past one? "
“ Yes," she repeated, below her breath.


406 HAND AND RING.
_ ._..-_---_--\_-Q
The District Attorney surveyed her earnestly, perceiv-
ing she had not only spoken the truth, but realized all
which that truth implied, and drew back a few steps mut-
tering ironically to himself :
“ Ah, Orcutt ! Orcutt !'"
Breathlessly she watched him, breathlessly she followed
him step by step like some white and haunting spirit.
,“ You believe, then, this fact will cost him his life ?'
came from her lips at last.
“ Don't ask me that, Miss Dare. You and I have no
concern with the consequences of this evidence."
“No concem ?" she repeated, wildly. “ You and I
no concern? Ah ! " she went on, with heart.piercing
sarcasm, “ I forgot that the sentiments of the heart have
no place in judicial investigation. A criminal is but
lawful prey, and it is every good citizen's duty to push
him to his doom. No matter if one is bound to that
criminal by the dearest ties which can unite two hearts ;
no matter if the trust he has bestowed upon you has been
absolute and unquestioning, the law does not busy itself
with that. The law says if you have a word at your
command which can destroy this man, give utterance to
it; and the law must be obeyed."
“ But, Miss Dare " the District Attorney hastily in-
tervened, startled by the feverish gleam of her hitherto
calm eye.
But she was not to be stopped, now that her misery had

at last found words.


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 407'
“You do not understand my position, perhaps," she
continued. “You do not see that it has been my hand,
and mine only, which, from the first, has slowly, remorse-
lessly pushed this man back from the point of safety, till
now, now, I am called upon to drag from his hand the one
poor bending twig to which he clings, and upon which he
relies to support him above the terrible gulf that yawns at
rr
his feet. You do not see

“ Pardon me," interposed Mr. Ferris again, anxious, if
possible, to restore her to herself. “ I see enough to pity
you profoundly. But you must allow me to remark that
your hand is not the only one which has been instru-
mental in hurrying this young man to his doom. The

detectives
“ Sir," she interrupted in her turn, “ can you, dare you
say, that without my testimony he would have stood at
any time in a really critical position ?—or that he would
stand in jeopardy of his life even now, if it were not for
this fact'I have to tell ? "
Mr. Ferris was silent. '
“ Oh, I knew it, I knew it !" she cried. “ There will be
no doubt concerning whose testimony it was that con-
victed him, if he is sentenced by the court for this crime.
Ah, ah, what an enviable position is mine ! What an
honorable deed I am called upon to perform ! To tell the
truth at the expense of the life most dear to you. It is a
Roman virtue ! I shall be held up as a model to my sex.
All the world must shower plaudits upon the woman who,


408 HAND AND RING.
...‘-\.... ..--.
sooner than rob justice of its due, delivered her own lover
over to the hangman."
Pausing in her passionate burst, she turned her hot, dry
eyes in a sort of desperation upon his face.
“ Do you know," she gurgled in his ear, “ some women
would kill themselves before they would do this deed."
Struck to his heart in spite of himself, Mr. Ferris looked
at her in alarm-—.saw her standing there with her arms
hanging down at her sides, but with her two hands clinched
till they looked as if carved from marble—and drew near
to her with the simple hurried question of :
“ But you ?"
“I ?” she laughed again—a low, gurgling.laugh, that
yet had a tone in it that went to the other's heart and
awoke strange sensations there. “ Oh, I shall live to re-
spond to your questions. Do not fear that I shall not be
in the court.room to.morrow."
There was something in her look and manner that
was new. It awed him, while it woke all his latent con-
cern.
“ Miss Dare," he began, “ you can believe how painful
all this has been to me, and how I would have spared you
this misery if I could. But the responsibilities resting upon
H
me are such
He did not go on ; why should he? She was not lis-
tening. To be sure, she stood before him, seemingly at-
tentive, but the eyes with which she met his were fixed
upon other objects than any which could have been appa-


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 409
rent to her in his face; and her form, which she had
hitherto held upright, was shaking with long, uncon-
trollable shudders, which, to his excited imagination,
threatened to lay her at his feet.
He at once started toward the door for help. But she
was alive to his movements if not to his words. Stopping
him with a gesture, she cried :
“ No—no ! do not call for any one ; I wish to be alone ;
I have my duty to face, you know ; my testimony to pre-
pare.' And rousing herself she cast a peculiar look about
the room, like one suddenly introducedinto a strange place,
and then moving slowly toward the window, threw back
the curtain and gazed without. “ Night ! " she murmured,
“ night ! ” and after a moment added, in adeep, unearthly
voice that thrilled irresistibly upon Mr. Ferris' ear :
“ And a heaven full of stars ! "
Her face, as she turned it upward, wore so strange a
look, Mr. Ferris involuntarily left his position and crossed
to her side. She was still murmuring to herself in seem-
ing unconsciousness of his presence. “Stars ! " she was
repeating ; “and above them God ! " And the long
shudders shook her frame again, and she dropped her
head and seemed about to fall into her old abstraction
when her eye encountered that of the District Attorney,
and she hurriedly aroused herself.
“Pardon me," she exclaimed, with an ill.concealed
irony, particularly impressive after her tone of the moment
before, “have you any thing further to exact of me ?”


410 ' HAND AND RING.
“ No," he made haste to reply; “only before I go I
would entreat you to be calm—— "
“ And say the word I have to say to.morrow without a
balk and without an unneccessary display of feeling," she
coldly interpolated. “Thanks, Mr. Ferris, I understand
you. But you need fear nothing from me. There will
be no scene—at least on my part—when I rise before the
court to give my testimony to.morrow. Since my hand
must strike the fatal blow, it shall strike—firmly ! ” and
her clenched fist fell heavily on her own breast, as if the
blow she meditated must first strike there.
The District Attorney, more moved than he had deemed
it possible for him to be, made her a low bow and with-
drew slowly to the door. .
“ I leave you, then, till to.morrow," he said.
“ Till to.morrow."
Long after he had passed out, the deep meaning which
informed those two words haunted his memory and dis-
turbed his heart. Till to.morrow ! Alas, poor girl! and
after to.morrow, what then ?


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 411
XXXIV.
WHAT WAS HID BEHIND IMOGENE'S VEIL.
' Mark now, how a plain tale shall put you down.-Hamzv IV.
HE few minutes that elapsed before the formal
T opening of court the next morning were marked
by great cheerfulness. The crisp frosty air had put every-
body in a good.humor. Even the prisoner looked less
sombre than before, and for the first time since the
beginning of his trial, deigned to turn his eyes toward
the bench where Imogene sat, with a look that, while it
was not exactly kind, had certainly less disdain in it than
before he saw his way to a possible acquittal on the
theory advanced by his counsel.
But this look, though his first, did not prove to be his
last. Something in the attitude of the woman he gazed
at—or was it the mystery of the heavy black veil that
enveloped her features ?—woke a strange doubt in his
mind. Beckoning to Mr. Orcutt, he communicated with
him in a low tone.
“Can it be possible," asked he, “that any thing new
could have transpired since last night to give encourage-
ment to the prosecution ? "


412 HAND AND RING.
. » _._‘ ... .’' ....-_
The lawyer, startled, glanced hastily about him and
shook his head.
“ No," he cried ; “impossible ! What could have
transpired ?"
“ Look at Mr. Ferris,” whispered the prisoner,
then at the witness who wears a veil."
With an unaccountable feeling of reluctance, Mr.
Orcutt hastily complied. His first glance at the District
Attorney made him thoughtful. He recognized the look
which his opponent wore; he had seen it many a time
before this, and knew what it indicated. As for Imogene,
who could tell what went on in that determined breast?
The close black veil revealed nothing. Mr. Orcutt impa-
“ and
tiently turned back to his client.
“ I think you alarm yourself unnecessarily," he whis-
pered. “Ferris means to fight, but what of that ? He
would n't be fit for his position if he did n't struggle to
the last gasp even for a failing cause."
Yet in saying this his lip took its sternest line, and from
the glitter of his eye and the close contraction of hisbrow
it looked as if he were polishing his own weapons for the
conflict he thus unexpectedly saw before him.
Meantime, across the court.room, another whispered
conference was going on.
“ Hickory, where have you been ever since last night ?
I have not been able to find you anywhere." '
“ I was on duty ; I had a bird to look after."
“ A bird ?"


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 413
“Yes, a wild bird; one who is none too fond of its
cage; a desperate one who might find means to force
aside its bars and fly away."
“What do you mean, Hickory? What nonsense is
this ? ”
“Look at Miss Dare and perhaps you will under-
stand."
“ Miss Dare ? ”
“ Yes."
Horace's eyes opened in secret alann.
I)
“ Do you mean
“I mean that I spent the whole night in tramping up
and down in front of her window. And a dismal task it
was too. Her lamp burned till daylight."
Here the court was called to order and Byrd had only
opportunity to ask :
“ Why does she wear a veil ? ”. -,
To which the other whisperingly retorted :
“Why did she spend the whole night in packing up her
worldly goods and writing a letter to the Congregational
minister to be sent after the adjournment of court to-
day ? ”
“ Did she do that ? "
“ She did."
“ Hickory, don't you know—have n't you been told
what she is expected to say or do here to.day?"
H NQ.,.
“You only guess ?"


414 ' HAND AND RING.
“ No, I don't guess.”
“You fear, then ?”
“Fear !' Well, that 's a big word to a fellow like me.
I don't know as I fear any thing; I 'm curious, that is'
all."
Mr. Byrd drew back, looked over at Imogene, and in-
voluntarily shook his head. What was in the mind of '
this mysterious woman? What direful purpose or shadow
of doom lay behind the veil that separated her from the
curiosity and perhaps the sympathy of the surrounding
crowd? It was in vain to question ; he could only wait
in secret anxiety for the revelations which the next few
minutes might bring.
The defence having rested the night before, the first
action of the Judge on the opening of the court was to
demand whether the prosecution had any rebuttal testi-
mony to offer. .
Mr. Ferris instantly rose.
“Miss Dare, will you retake the stand," said he.
Immediately Mr. Orcutt, who up to the last moment
had felt his case as secure as if it had indeed been
founded on a rock, bounded to his feet, white as the
witness herself.‘
“I object !" he cried. “ The witness thus recalled by
the counsel of the prosecution has had ample opportunity
to lay before the court all the evidence in her possession.
I submit it to the court whether my learned opponent
should not have exhausted his witness before he rested
his case."


.416 HAND AND RING.
“Does my learned friend suppose the court will re-
ceive any such ambiguous explanation as this? If the
testimony sought from this witness is by way of rebuttal,
let him say so ; but if it is not, let him be frank enough
to admit it, that I may in turn present my objections
to the introduction of any irrelevant evidence at this
time."
“ The testimony I propose to present through this wit-
ness is in the way of rebuttal," returned Mr Ferris,
severely. “ The argument advanced by the defence, that
the prisoner could not have left Mrs. Clemmens' house
at ten minutes before twelve and arrived at Monteith
Quarry Station at twenty minutes past one, is not atena-
ble one, and I purpose to prove it by this witness."
Mr. Orcutt's look of anxiety changed to one of mingled
amazement and incredulity.
“ By this witness ! You have chosen a peculiar one for
the purpose," he ironically exclaimed, more and more
shaken from his self.possession by the quiet bearing
of his opponent, and the silent air of waiting which
marked the stately figure of her whom, as he had
hitherto believed, he thoroughly comprehended. “ Your
Honor," he continued, “ I withdraw my objections; I
should really like to hear how Miss Dare or any lady can
give evidence on this point."
And he sank back into his seat with a look at his
client in which professional bravado strangely struggled
with something even deeper than alarm.


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 4I7
“ Thismust be an exciting moment to the prisoner,"
whispered Hickory to Byrd. '
“ So, so. But mark his control, will you? He is less
cut up than Orcutt."
“Look at his eyes, though. If any thing could pierce
that veil of hers, you would think such a glance might."
“Ah, he his trying his influence over her at last."
“But it is too late.”
Meantime the District Attorney had signified again to
Miss Dare his desire that she should take the stand.
Slowly, and like a person in a dream, she arose, unloosed
her veil, dragged it from before her set features, and
stepped mechanically forward to the place assigned her.
What was there in the face thus revealed that called
down an instantaneous silence upon the court, and made
the momentary pause that ensued memorable in the
minds of all present? It was not that she was so pale,
though her close.fitting black dress, totally unrelieved by
any suspicion of white, was of a kind to bring out
any startling change in her complexion; nor was there
visible in her bearing any trace of the feverish excite-
ment which had characterized it the evening before;
yet of all the eyes that were fixed upon her—and there
were many in that crowd whose only look a moment
'before had been one of heartless curiosity—there were
none which were not filled with compassion and more or
less dread.
Meanwhile, she remained like a statue on the spot


—.._“P--UQ-_
418 HAND AND RING.
where she had taken her stand, and her eyes, which
in her former examination had met the court with the
unflinching gaze of an automaton, were lowered till the
lashes swept her cheek.
“Miss Dare," asked the District Attorney, as soon as
he could recover from his own secret emotions of pity
and regret, “will you tell us where you were at the
hour of noon on the morning Mrs. Clemmens was
murdered ? "
Before she could answer, before in fact her stif f and
icy lips could part, Mr. Orcutt had risen impetuously to
his feet, like a man bound to contend every step of the
way with the unknown danger that menaced him.
“I object!” he cried, in the changed voice of a
deeply disturbed man, while those who had an interest in
the prisoner at this juncture, could not but notice that
he, too, showed signs of suppressed feeling, and for the
first time since the beginning of the trial, absolutely
found his self.command insufficient to keep down the
rush of color that swept up to his swarthy cheek.
“The question," continued Mr. Orcutt, “is not to
elicit testimony in rebuttal."
“ Will my learned friend allow the witness to give her
answer, instead of assuming what it is to be ? "
“I will not," retorted his adversary. “A child could
see that such a question is not admissible at this stage of
the case."
“I am sure my learned friend would not wish me to


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 4I9
associate him with any such type of inexperience?"
suggested Mr. Ferris, grimly.
But the sarcasm, which at one time would have called
forth a stinging retort from Mr. Orcutt, passed unheeded.
The great lawyer was fighting for his life, for his heart's
life, for the love and hand of Imogene—a recompense
which at this moment her own unconsidered action, or
the constraining power of a conscience of whose might
he had already received such heart.rending manifestation,
seemed about to snatch from his grasp forever. Turning
to the Judge, he said :
“ I will not delay the case by bandying words with my
. esteemed friend, but appeal at once to the Court as to
whether the whereabouts of Miss Dare on that fatal
morning can have any thing to do with the defence we
have proved."
“Your Honor," commenced the District Attorney,
calmly following the lead of his adversary, “ I am ready
to stake my reputation on the declaration that this wit-
ness is in possession of a fact that overturns the whole
fabric of the defence. If the particular question I have
made use of, in my endeavor to elicit this fact, is displeas-
ing to my friend, I will venture upon another less
ambiguous, if more direct and perhaps leading." And
turning again to the witness, Mr. Ferris calmly inquired:
“Did you or did you not see the prisoner on the
morning of the assault, at a time distinctly known by you
to be after ten minutes to twelve ?"


-_a_-1...
420 HAND AND RING.
It was out. The line of attack meditated by Mr.
Ferris was patent to everybody. A murmur of surprise
and interest swept through the court.room, while Mr.
Orcutt, who in spite of his vague fears was any thing but
prepared for a thrust of this vital nature, started and
cast short demanding looks from Imogene to Mansell, as
if he would ask them what. fact this was which through
ignorance or presumption they had conspired to keep
from him. The startled look which he surprised on the
stern face of the prisoner, showed him there was every
thing to fear in her reply, and bounding again to his feet,
he was about to make some further attempt to stave off
the impending calamity, when the rich voice of Imogene
was heard saying: .
“ Gentlemen, if you will allow me to tell my story un-
hindered, I think I shall soonest satisfy both the District
Attorney and the counsel for the prisoner."
And raising her eyes with a slow and heavy movement
from the floor, she fixed them in a meaning way upon the
latter.
At once convinced that he had been unnecessarily
alarmed, Mr. Orcutt sank back into his seat, and Imogene
slowly proceeded.
She commenced in a forced tone and with a sudden
quick shudder that made her words come hesitatingly
and with strange breaks : “ I have been asked—two ques-
tions by Mr. Ferris—I prefer—to answer the first. He
asked me—where I was at the hour Mrs. Clemmens was
murdered."


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 421
She paused so long one had time to count her breaths
as they came in gasps to her white lips.
“I have no further desire to hide from you the truth.
I was with Mrs. Clemmens in her own house."
At this acknowledgment so astonishing, and besides so
totally different from the one he had been' led to expect.
Mr. Ferris started as if a thunder.bolt had fallen at his
feet. -
.
“In Mrs. Clemmens' house !” he repeated, amid the
excited hum of a hundred murmuring voices. “Did you
say, in Mrs. Clemmens' house ?"
“ Yes," she returned, with a wild, ironical smile that at
once assured Mr. Ferris of his helplessness. “I am on
oath now, and I assert that on the day and at the
hour Mrs. Clemmens was murdered, I was in her house
and in her dining.room. I had come there secretly," she
proceeded, with a sudden feverish fluency that robbed
Mr. Ferris of speech, and in fact held all her auditors
spell.bound. “ I had been spending an hour or so at
Professor Darling's, whose house in West Side is, as
many here know, at the very end of Summer Avenue, and
close to the woods that run along back of Mrs. Clemmens'
cottage. I had been sitting alone in the observatory,
which is at the top of one of the towers, but being sud-
denly seized with a desire to see the widow and make
that promised attempt at persuading her to reconsider
her decision in ‘regard to the money her—her—the
prisoner wanted, I came down, and unknown to any one


422 HAND AND RING.
in the house, stole away to the woods and so to the-
widow's cottage. It was noon when I got there, or very
near it, for her company, if she had had any, was gone,
and she was engaged in setting the clock where? ”
Why did she pause? The District Attorney, utterly
stupefied by his surprise, had made no sign ; neither had
Mr. Orcutt. Indeed, it looked as if the latter could
not have moved, much less spoken, even if he had de-
sired it. Thought, feeling, life itself, seemed to be at a
standstill within him as he sat with a face like clay, wait-
ing for words whose import he perhaps saw foreshadowed
in her wild and terrible mien. But though his aspect was
enough to stop her, it was not upon him she was gazing
when the words tripped on her lips. It was upon the
prisoner, on the man who up to this time had borne him-
self with such iron.like composure and reserve, but who
now, with every sign of feeling and alarm, had started
forward and stood surveying her, with his hand uplifted
in the authoritative manner of a master.
The next instant he sank back, feeling the eye of the
]udge upon him; but the signal had been made, and
many in that court.room looked to see Imogene falter or
break down. But she, although fascinated, perhaps
moved, by this hint of feeling from one who had hitherto
met all the exigencies of the hour with a steady and firm
composure, did not continue silent at his bidding. On
the contrary, her purpose, whatever it was, seemed to ac-
quire new force, for turning from him with a strange, un-


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 423
earthly glare on her face, she fixed her glances on the
jury and went steadily on.
“I have said," she began, “that Mrs. Clemmens was
winding her clock. When I came in she stepped down,
and a short and angry colloquy commenced between us.
She did not like my coming there. She did not appreci-
ate my interest in her nephew. She made me furious,
frenzied, mad. I—I turned away—then I came back.
She was standing with her face lifted toward her clock, as
though she no longer heeded or remembered my pres-
ence. I—I don't know what came to me; whether it

was hatred or love that maddened my brain—but "
She did not finish ; she did not need to. The look she
gave, the attitude she took, the appalling gesture which
she made, supplied the place of language. In an instant
Mr. Ferris, Mr. Orcutt, all the many and confused specta-
tors who hung upon her words as if spell.bound, realized
that instead of giving evidence inculpating the prisoner,
she was giving evidence accusing herself ; that, in other
words, Imogene Dare, goaded to madness by the fearful
alternative of either destroying her lover or sacrificing
herself, had yielded to the claims of her love or her con-
science, and in hearing of judge and jury, proclaimed
herself to be the murderess of Mrs. Clemmens.
The moment that followed was frightful. The prisoner,
who was probably the only man present who foresaw her
intention when she began to speak, had sunk back into
his seat and covered his face with his hands long before


424 HAND AND RING.
. _. _.»-.--
she reached the fatal declaration. But the spectacle pre-
sented by Mr. Orcutt was enough, as with eyes dilated
and lips half parted in consternation, he stood before
them a victim of overwhelming emotion; so overcome,
indeed, as scarcely to be able to give vent to the one low
and memorable cry that involuntarily left his lips as the
full realization of what she had done smote home to his
stricken breast.
As for Mr. Ferris, he stood dumb, absolutely robbed of
speech by this ghastly confession he had unwillingly
called from his witness' lips; while slowly from end to
end of that court.room the wave of horror spread, till
Imogene, her cause, and that of the wretched prisoner
himself, seemed swallowed up in one fearful tide of unre-
ality and nightmare.
The first gleam of relief came from the 'Judge.
“Miss Dare," said he, in his slow, kindly way that
nothing could impair, “do you realize the nature of the
evidence you have given to the court ? ”
Her slowly falling head and white face, from which all
the fearful excitement was slowly ebbing in a dead de-
spair, gave answer for her.
“ I fear that you are not in a condition to realize the
effect of your words," the Judge went on. “Sympathy for
the prisoner or the excitement of being recalled to the
stand has unnerved or confused you. Take time, Miss
Dare, the court will wait; reconsider your words, and
then tell us the truth about this matter."


THE SCALES oF JUSTICE. 425
But Imogene, with white lips and drooped head,
answered hurriedly:
“ I have nothing to consider. ' I have told, or attempt-
ed to tell, how Mrs. Clemmens came to her death. She
was struck down by me; Craik Mansell there is inno-
cent."
At this repetition in words of what she had before
. merely intimated by a gesture, the Judge ceased his ques-
tions, and the horror of the multitude found vent in one
long, low, but irrepressible murmur. Taking advantage
of the momentary disturbance, Byrd turned to his col-
league with the agitated inquiry :
“ Hickory, is tlzis what you have had in your mind for
the last few days ? "
“ This," repeated the other, with an air of careful con-
sideration, assumed, as Byrd thought, to conceal any
emotion which he might have felt ; “ no, no, not really.
I—I don't know what I thought. Not this though." And
he fixed his eyes upon Imogene's fallen countenance,
with an expression of mingled doubt and wonder, as
baffling in its nature as the tone of voice he had used.
“ But," stammered Byrd, with an earnestness that al-
most partook of the nature of pleading, “she is not
speaking the truth, of course. What we heard her say
H
in the hut
“Hush I ” interposed the other, with a significant gest-
ure and asudden glance toward the prisoner and his
counsel; “watching is better than talking just now.
Besides, Orcutt is going to speak."


426 HAND AND RING.
. -.... ___,1 _
It was so. After a short and violent conflict with the
almost overwhelming emotions that had crushed upon
him with the words and actions of Imogene, the great
lawyer had summoned up suflicient control over himself
to reassume the duties of his position and face once more
the expectant crowd, and the startled, if not thoroughly
benumbed, jury.
His first words had the well.known ring, and, like a
puff of cool air through a heated atmosphere, at once re-
stored the court.room to its usual condition of formality
and restraint.
“This is not evidence, but the raving of frenzy," he
said, in impassioned tones. “ The witness has been tort-
ured by the demands of the prosecution, till she is no
longer responsible for her words." And turning toward
the District Attorney, who, at the first sound of his ad-
versary's voice, had roused himself from the stupor into
which he had been thrown by the fearful and unexpected
turn which Imogene's confession had taken, he con-
tinued : “If my learned friend is not lost to all feelings
of humanity, he will withdraw from the stand a witness
laboring under a mental aberration of so serious a
nature."
Mr. Ferris was an irritable man, but he was touched
with sympathy for his friend, reeling under so heavy a
blow. He therefore forbore to notice this taunt save by
a low bow, but turned at once to the Judge.
“Your Honor," said he, “ I desire to be understood by


428 HAND AND RING.
demnation awaited him at your hands instead of a tri-
umphant acquittal, he is not the man I believe him, if he
would consent to accept a deliverance founded upon
utterances so manifestly frenzied and devoid of truth.
I therefore repeat the objection I have before urged. I
ask your Honor now to strike out all this testimony as
irrelevant in rebuttal, and I beg our learned friend to
close an examination as unprofitable to his own cause as to
mine."
“I agree with my friend," returned Mr. Ferris, “ that
the moment is one unfit for controversy. If it please the
Court, therefore, I will withdraw the witness, though by
so doing I am forced to yield all hope of eliciting the im-
portant fact I had relied upon to rebut the defence."
And obedient to the bow of acquiescence he received
from the Judge, the District Attorney turned to Miss
Dare and considerately requested her to leave the stand.
But she, roused by the sound of her name perhaps,
looked up, and meeting the eye of the Judge, said :
“ Pardon me, your Honor, but I do not desire to leave
the stand till I have made clear to all who hear me that it
is I, not the prisoner, who am responsible for Mrs. Clem.‘
mens' death. The agony which I have been forced to
undergo in giving testimony against him, has earned me
the right to say the words that prove his innocence and
my own guilt."
“ But," said the Judge, “we do not consider you in any
condition to give testimony in court to.day, even against


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 429
yourself. If what you say is true, you shall have ample
opportunities hereafter to confirm and establish your
statements, for you must know, Miss Dare, that no con-
fession of this nature will be considered suflicient without
testimony corroborative of its truth."
“ But, your Honor," she returned, with a dreadful calm-
ness, “I have corroborative testimony." And amid the
startled looks of all present, she raised her hand and
pointed with steady forefinger at the astounded and by-
no.means gratified Hickory. “ Letthat man be recalled,"
she cried, “and asked to repeat the conversation he had
with a young servant.girl called Roxana, in Professor
Darling's observatory some ten weeks ago."
The suddenness of her action, the calm assurance with
which it was made, together with the intention it evinced
of summoning actual evidence to substantiate her con-
- fession, almost took away the breath of the assembled
multitude. Even Mr. Orcutt seemed shaken by it, and
stood looking from the outstretched hand of this woman
he so adored, to the abashéd countenance of the rough
detective, with a wonder that for the first time betrayed
the presence of alarm. Indeed, to him as to others, the
moment was fuller of horror than when she made her first
self.accusation, for what at that time partook of the
vagueness of a dream, seemed to be acquiring the sub-
stance of an awful reality.
Imogene alone remained unmoved. Still with her eyes
fixed on Hickory, she continued :


430 HAND AND RING.
__ .-....-. '...._.,.
“ He has not told you all he knows about this matter,
any more than I. If my word needs corroboration, look
to him."
And taking advantage of the sensation which this last
appeal occasioned, she waited where she was for the
Judge to speak, with all the calmness of one who has
nothing more to fear or hope for in this world.
But the Judge sat aghast at this spectacle of youth and
beauty insisting upon its own guilt, and neither Mr. Fer-
ris nor Mr. Orcutt having words for this emergency, a
silence, deep as the feeling which had been aroused,
gradually settled over the whole court. It was fast be-
coming oppressive, when suddenly a voice, low but firm,
and endowed with a strange power to awake and hold the
attention, was heard speaking in that quarter of the room
whence Mr. Orcutt's commanding tones had so often
issued. It was an unknown voice, and for a minute a
doubt seemed to rest upon the assembled crowd as to
whom it belonged.
But the change that had come into Imogene's face, as
well as the character of the words that were uttered, soon
convinced them it was the prisoner himself. With a start,
every one turned in the direction of the dock. The
sight that met their eyes seemed a fit culmination of the
scene through which they had just passed. Erect, noble,
as commanding in appearance and address as the woman
who still held her place on the witness stand, Craik Man-
sell faced the judge and jury with a quiet, resolute, but


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 431
courteous assurance, that seemed at once to rob him of
the character of a criminal, and set him on a par with the
able and honorable men by whom he was surrounded.
Yet his words were not those of a belied man, nor was
his plea one of innocence.
“I ask pardon," he was saying, “for addressing the
court directly; first of all, the pardon of my counsel,
whose ability has never been so conspicuous as in this
case, and whose just resentment, if he were less mag-
nanimous and noble, I feel I am now about to incur."
Mr. Orcutt turned to him a look of surprise and
severity, but the prisoner saw nothing but the face of
the Judge, and continued :
“ I would have remained silent if the disposition which
your Honor and the District Attorney proposed to make
of this last testimony were not in danger of reconsidera-
tion from the appeal which the witness has just made.
I believe, with you, that her testimony should be dis-
regarded. I intend, if I have the power, that it shall be
disegarded."
The Judge held up his hand, as if to warn the prisoner
and was about to speak.
“I entreat that I may be heard," said Mansell, with
the utmost calmness. “I beg the Court not to imagine
that I am about to imitate the witness in any sudden or
ill.considered attempt at a confession. All I intend is
that her self.accusation shall not derive strength or
importance from any doubts of my guilt which may


’-_..“.4
432 ‘ HAND AND RING.
spring from the defence which has been interposed in
my behalf."
Mr. Orcutt, who, from the moment the prisoner began
to speak, had given evidences of a great indecision as to
whether he should allow his client to continue or not,
started at these words, so unmistakably pointing toward
a demolishment of his whole case, and hurriedly rose.
But a glance at Imogene seemed to awaken a new train
of thought, and he as hurriedly reseated himself.
The prisoner, seeing he had nothing to fear from his
counsel's interference, and meeting with no rebuke from
the Judge, went calmly on :
“Yesterday I felt differently in regard to this matter.
If I could be saved from my fate by a defence seemingly
so impregnable, I was willing to be so saved, but to.day
I would be a coward and a disgrace to my sex if, in face
of the generous action of this woman, I allowed a false-
hood of whatever description to place her in peril, or to
stand between me and the doom that probably awaits
me. Sir," he continued, turning for the first time to
Mr. Orcutt, with a gesture of profound respect, “you
had been told that the path from Mrs. Clemmens' house
to the bridge, and so o.n to Monteith Quarry Station,
could not be traversed in ninety minutes, and you be-
lieved it. You were not wrong. It cannot be gone over
in that time. But I now say to your Honor and to the
jury, that the distance from my aunt's house to the
Quarry Station can be made in that number of minutes


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. ' 433
if a way can be found to cross the river without going
around by the bridge. I know," he proceeded, as a
torrent of muttered exclamations rose on his ear, fore-
most among which was that of the much.discomfited
Hickory, “that to many of you, to all of you, perhaps,
all means for doing this seem to be lacking to the chance
wayfarer, but if there were a lumberman here, he would
tell you that the logs which are frequently floated down
this stream to the station afford an easy means of pas-
sage to one accustomed to ride them, as I have been
when a lad, during the year I spent in the Maine woods.
At all events, it was upon a log that happened to be
lodged against the banks, and which I pushed out into’
the stream by means of the ‘ pivy ' or long spiked pole
which I found lying in the grass at its side, that I crossed
the river on that fatal day ; and if the detective, who has
already made such an effort to controvert the defence,
will risk an attempt at this expedient for cutting short
his route, I have no doubt he will be able to show
you that a man can pass from Mrs. Clemmens' house
to the station at Monteith Quarry, not only in ninety
minutes, but in less, if the exigencies of the case seem to
demand it. Idid it." '
And without a glance at Imogene, but with an air
almost lofty in its pride and manly assertion, the prisoner
sank back into his seat, and resumed once more his quiet
and unshaken demeanor.
This last change in the kaleidoscope of events, that


434 ' HAND AND RING.'
had been shifting before their eyes for the last half
hour, was too much for the continued equanimity of
a crowd already worked up into a state of feverish
excitement. It had become apparent that by stripping
away his defence, Mansell left himself naked to the law.
In this excitement of the jury, consequent upon the
self.accusation of Imogene, the prisoner's admission
might prove directly fatal to him. He was on trial
for this crime; public justice demanded blood for
blood, and public excitement clamored for a victim.
It was dangerous to toy with a feeling but one degree
removed from the sentiment of a mob. The jury might
not stop to sympathize with the self.abnegation of these
They might
say: “The way is clear as to the prisoner at least; he
two persons willing to die for each other.
has confessed his defence is false; the guilty interpose
false defences ; we are acquit before God and men if we
convict him out of his own mouth."
The crowd in the court.room was saying all this and
more, each man to his neighbor. A clamor of voices
next to impossible to suppress rose over the whole room,
and not even the efforts of the ofiicers of the court,
exerted to their full power in the maintenance of order,
could have hushed the storm, had not the spectators
become mute with expectation at seeing Mr. Ferris and
Mr. Orcutt, summoned by a sign from the Iudge, advance
to the front of the bench and engage in an earnest con-
ference with the Court. A few minutes afterward the
_-1 ‘*1.
_-


THE SCALES oF JUSTICE. 435
Judge turned to the jury and announced that the dis.
closures of the morning demanded a careful consideration
by the prosecution, that an adjournment was undoubtedly
indispensable, and that the jury should refrain from any
discussion of the case, even among themselves, until it was
finally given them under the charge of the Court. The
jury expressed their concurrence by an almost unanimous
gesture of assent, and the crier proclaimed an adjourn-
ment until the next day at ten o'clock.
Imogene, still sitting in the witness chair, saw the
prisoner led forth by the jailer without being able to
gather, in the whirl of the moment, any indication that her
dreadful sacrifice—for she had made wreck of her life in
the eyes of the world whether her confession were true or
false—had accomplished any thing save to drive the man
she loved to the verge of that doom from which she had
sought to deliver him.


436 HAND AND RING.
T
XXXV.
PRO AND CON.
Hamlef.—D0 you see yonder cloud that's almost ln shape of a camel?
PaIuniu:.—By the mass, and 'tis like a. camel indeed.
I{amlzt.—Methink5 it is like a weasel.
Palom'u:.—It is back'd like I. weasel. —.HAM|.a"r.
HORTLY after the adjournment of court, Mr.
S Ferris summoned the two detectives to his oflice.
“We have a serious question before us to decide," said
he. “Are we to go on with the prosecution or are we to
stop? I should like to hear your views on the subject."
Hickory was, as usual, the first to speak.
“ I should say, stop," he cried. “ This fresh applicant
for the honor of having slain the Widow Clemmens
deserves a hearing at least."
“But,” hurriedly interposed Byrd, “you don't give any
credit to her story now, even if you did before the
prisoner spoke ? You know she did not commit the crime
herself, whatever she may choose to declare in her
anxiety to shield the prisoner. I hope, sir," he pro-
ceeded, glancing at the District Attorney, “ that you have
no doubts as to Miss Dare's innocence?"
But Mr. Ferris, instead of answering, turned to Hickory
and said :


. --..'..-'_ .
438 HAND AND RING.
“ In the town ! ” repeated Byrd.
“ Yes; the telescope was lowered so as to command a
view of the town, and she had taken advantage of its
position (as she assured me last night) to consult the
church clock."
“ The church clock ! " echoed Byrd once more. “And
what time did she say it was?" breathlessly cried both
detectives.
“ Five minutes to twelve."
“A critical moment," ejaculated Byrd. “And what
was it she saw going on in the town at that especial
time?"
“I will tell you," returned the District Attorney, im-
pressively. “ She said—and I believed her last night and
so recalled her to the stand this morning—that she saw
Craik Mansell fleeing toward the swamp from Mrs.
Clemmens' dining.room door."
Both men looked up astonished.
“That was what she told me last night. To.day she
comes into court with this contradictory story of herself
being the assailant and sole cause of Mrs. Clemmens'
death."
“But all that is frenzy," protested Byrd. “ She prob-
ably saw from your manner that the prisoner was lost if
she gave this fact to the court, and her mind became dis-
ordered. She evidently loves this Mansell, and as for
me, I pity her."
“ So do I," assented the District Attorney; “still———"


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 439
“ Is it possible," Byrd interrupted, with feeling, as Mr.
Ferris hesitated, “that you do doubt her innocence ?
After the acknowledgments made by the prisoner too ?"
Rising from his seat, Mr. Ferris began slowly to pace
the floor.
“ I should like each of you,'.' said he, without answer-
ing the appeal of Byrd, “ to tell me why I should credit
what she told me in conversation last night rather than
what she uttered upon oath in the court.room to.day?"
“ Let me speak first," rejoined Byrd, glancing at Hick-
ory. And, rising also, he took his stand against the
mantel.shelf where he could partially hide his face from
those he addressed. “ Sir," he proceeded, after a mo-
ment, “both Hickory and myself know Miss Dare to be
innocent of this murder. A circumstance which we have
hitherto kept secret, but which in justice to Miss Dare I
think we are now bound to make known, has revealed to
us the true criminal. Hickory, tell Mr. Ferris of the de-
ception you practised upon Miss Dare in the hut."
The surprised, but secretly gratified, detective at once
complied. He saw no reason for keeping quiet about
that day's work. He told how. by means of a letter pur-
porting to come from Mansell, he had decoyed Imogene
to an interview in the hut, where, under the supposition
she was addressing her lover, she had betrayed her con-
viction of his guilt, and advised him to confess it.
Mr. Ferris listened with surprise and great interest.
“ That seems to settle the question," he said.


440 HAND AND RING.
But it was now Hickory's turn to shake his head.
“ I don't know," he remonstrated. “I have sometimes
thought she saw through the trick and turned it to her
own advantage."
“ How to her own advantage ?"
“ To talk in such a way as to make us think Mansell
was guilty."
“ Stuff ! " said Byrd ; “ that woman ?"
“ More unaccountable things have happened," was the
weak reply of Hickory, his habitual state of suspicion
leading him more than once into similar freaks of folly.
“ Sir," said Mr. Byrd, confidingly, to the District Attor-
ney, “let us run over this matter from the beginning.
Starting with the supposition that the explanation she
gave you last night was the true one, let us see if the
whole affair does not hang together in a way to satisfy us
all as to where the real guilt lies. To begin, then, with

the meeting in the woods
“ Wait," interrupted Hickory; “ there is going to be an
argument here; so suppose you give your summary of
events from the lady's standpoint, as that seems to be the
one which interests you most."
“ I was about to do so," Horace assured him, heedless
of the rough fellow's good.natured taunt. “ To make my
point, it is absolutely necessary for us to transfer ourselves
into her position and view matters as they gradually un-
folded themselves before her eyes. First, then, as I have
before suggested, let us consider the interview held by


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 44r'
this man and woman in the woods. Miss Dare, as we
must remember, was not engaged to Mr. Mansell; she
only loved him. Their engagement, to say nothing of
their marriage, depended upon his success in life—a suc-
cess which to them seemed to hang solely upon the deci-
sion of Mrs. Clemmens concerning the small capital he
desired her to advance him. But in the interview which
Mansell had held with his aunt previous to the meeting
between the lovers, Mrs. Clemmens had refused to loan
him this money, and Miss Dare, whose feelings we are
endeavoring to follow, found herself beset by the entree.-
ties of a man who, having failed in his plans for future
fortune, feared the loss of her love as well. What was the
natural consequence? Rebellion against the widow's de-
cision, of course,—a rebellion which she showed by the
violent gesture which she made ;—and then a determina-
tion to struggle for her happiness, as she evinced when,
with most unhappy ambiguity of expression, she begged
him to wait till the next day before pressing his ring upon
her acceptance, because, as she said :
“ ‘ A night has been known to change the whole current
of a person's affairs.' "
“ To her, engrossed with the one idea of making a per-
sonal effort to alter Mrs. Clemmens' mind on the money
question, these words seemed innocent enough. But the
look with which he received them, and the pause that
followed, undoubtedly impressed her, and prepared the
way for the interest she manifested when, upon looking


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 443
the details of the assault, seem to prove she was not with-
out a desire to satisfy herself that suspicion rightfully
attached itself to the tramp. But not until she saw her
lover's ring on the floor (the ring which she had with her
own hand dropped into the pocket of his coat the day
before) and heard that the tramp had justified himself
and was no longer considered the assailant, did her true
fear and horror come. Then, indeed, all the past rose up
before her, and, believing her lover guilty of this crime,
she laid claim to the jewel as the first and only alterna-
tive that offered by which she might stand between him
and the consequences of his guilt. Her subsequent agita-
tion when the dying woman made use of the exclamation
that indissolubly connected the crime with a ring, speaks
for itself. Nor was her departure from the house any too
hurried or involuntary, when you consider that the ven-
geance invoked by the widow, was, in Miss Dare's opin-
ion, called down upon one to whom she had nearly
plighted her troth. What is the next act in the drama?
The scene in the Syracuse depot. Let me see if I cannot .
explain it. A woman who has once allowed herself to
suspect the man she loves of a murderous deed, cannot
rest till she has either convinced herself that her suspi-
cions are false, or until she has gained such knowledge of
the truth as makes her feel justified in her seeming trea-
son. A woman of Miss Dare's generous nature especially.
What does she do, then ? With the courage that charac-
terizes all her movements, she determines upon seeing


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE.
of two violent passions,—ambition and love; and she
being passionate and ambitious herself, remained attached
to the man while she recoiled from his crime.
“ This being so, she could not, as a woman, wish him
to suffer the penalty of his wickedness. Though lost to
her, he must not be lost to the world. So, with the
heroism natural to such a nature, she shut the secret up
in her own breast, and faced her friends with courage,
wishing, if not hoping, that the matter would remain the
mystery it promised to be when she stood with us in the
presence of the dying woman.
“But this was not to be, for suddenly, in the midst of
her complacency, fell the startling announcement that
another man—an innocent man—one, too, of her lover's
own standing, if not hopes, had by a curious conjunction
of events so laid himself open to the suspicion of the
authorities as to be actually under arrest for this crime.
'T was a danger she had not foreseen, a result for which
she was not prepared.
“ Startled and confounded she let a few days go by in
struggle and indecision, possibly hoping, with the blind
trust of her sex, that Mr. Hildreth would be released
without her interference. But Mr. Hildreth was not re-
leased, and her anxiety was fast becoming unendurable,
when that decoy letter sent by Hickory reached her,
awakening in her breast for the first time, perhaps, the
hope that Mansell would show himself to be a true man
in this extremity, and by a public confession of guilt re-


446 HAND AND RING.
lease her from the task of herself supplying the informa-
tion which would lead to his commitment.
“And, perhaps, if it had really fallen to the lot of
Mansell to confront her in the hut and listen to her
words of adjuration and appeal, he might have been in-
duced to consent to her wishes. But a detective sat
there instead of her lover, and the poor woman lived to
see the days go by without any movement being made to
save Mr. Hildreth. At last—was it the result of the
attempt made by this man upon his life ?—she put an end
to the struggle by acting for herself. Moved by a sense
of duty, despite her love, she sent the letter which drew
attention to her lover, and paved the way for that trial
which has occupied our attention for so many days. But
—mark this, for I think it is the only explanation of her
whole conduct—the sense of justice that upheld her in this
duty was mingled with the hope that her lover would
escape conviction if he did not trial. The one fact
which told the most against him—I allude to his flight
from his aunt's door on the morning of the murder, as
observed by her through the telescope—was as yet a
secret in her own breast, and there she meant it to
remain unless it was drawn forth by actual question. But
it was not a fact likely to be made the subject of ques-
tion, and drawing hope from that consideration, she pre-
pared herself for the ordeal before her, determined, as I
actually believe, to answer with truth all the inquiries
that were put to her. ~-..—- .


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 447
“ But in an unexpected hour she learned that the detec-
tives were anxious to know where she was during the
time of the murder. She heard Hickory question Pro-
fessor Darling's servant.girl, as to whether she was still
in the observatory, and at once feared that her secret was'
discovered. Feared, I say.—I conjecture this,—but what
I do not conjecture is that with the fear, or doubt, or
whatever emotion it was she cherished, a revelation came
of the story she might tell if worst came to worst, and
she found herself forced to declare what she saw when
the clock stood at five minutes to twelve on that fatal
day. Think of your conversation with the girl Roxana,"
he went on to Hickory, “and then think of that woman
crouching behind the rack, listening to your words, and
see if you can draw any other conclusion from the ex-
pression of her face than that of triumph at seeing a way
to deliver her lover at the sacrifice of herself."
As Byrd waited for a reply, Hickory reluctantly ac-
knowledged:
“ Her look was a puzzler, thatI will allow. She seemed

glad
“ There,” cried Byrd, “ you say she seemed glad; that
is enough. Had she had the weight of this crime upon
her conscience, she would have betrayed a different emo-
tion from that. I pray you to consider the situation,"
he proceeded, turning to the District Attorney, “for on
it hangs your conviction of her innocence. F irst, imagine
her guilty. What would her feelings be, as, hiding unseen


.—~-l-.‘'~J
448 HAND AND RING.
in that secret.corner, she hears a detective's voice inquir-
ing where she was when the fatal blow was struck, and
hears the answer given that she was not where she was
supposed to be, but in the woods—the woods which she
and every one know lead so directly to Mrs. Clemmens'
house, she could without the least difliculty hasten there
and back in the hour she was observed to be missing?
Would she show gladness or triumph even of a wild or
delirious order? No, even Hickory cannot say she
would. Now, on the contrary, see her as I do, crouched
there in the very place before the telescope which she
occupied when the girl came to the observatory before,
but unseen now as she was unseen then, and watch the
change that takes place in her countenance as she hears
question and answer and realizes what confirmation she
would receive from this girl if she ever thought fit to de-
clare that she was not in the observatory when the girl
sought her there on the day of the murder. That by this
act she would bring execration if not death upon herself,
she does not stop to consider. Her mind is full of what
she can do for her lover, and she does not think of herself.
“But an enthusiasm like this is too frenzied to last.
As time passes by and Craik Mansell is brought to trial,
she begins to hope she may be spared this sacrifice. She
therefore responds with perfect truth when summoned to
the stand to give evidence, and does not waver, though
question after question is asked her, whose answers can-
not fail to show the state of her mind in regard to the


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 449
prisoner's guilt. Life and honor are sweet even to one
in her condition ; and if her lover could be saved without
falsehood it was her natural instinct to avoid it.
“ And it looked as if he would be saved. A defence
both skilful and ingenious had been advanced for him by
his counsel—a defence which only the one fact so securely
locked in her bosom could controvert. You can imagine,
then, the horror and alarm which must have seized her
when, in the very hour of hope, you approached her with
the demand which proved that her confidence in her
power to keep silence had been premature, and that the
alternative was yet to be submitted to her of destroying
her lover or sacrificing herself. Yet, because a great
nature does not succumb without a struggle, she tried even
now the effect of the truth upon you, and told you the one
fact she considered so detrimental to the safety of her
lover.
“The result was fatal.’ Though I cannot presume to
say what passed between you, I can imagine how the
change in your countenance warned her of the doom she
would bring upon Mansell if she went into court with the
same story she told you. Nor do I find it difficult to
imagine how, in one of her history and temperament, a
night of continuous brooding over this one topic should
have culminated in the act which startled us so profoundly
in the court.room this morning. Love, misery, devotion
are not mere names to her, and the greatness which sus-
tained her through the ordeal of denouncing her lover in


-.-- I-.flhqr;
450 HAND AND RING.
order that an innocent man might be relieved from sus-
picion, was the same that made it possible for her to
denounce herself that she might redeem the life she had
thus deliberately jeopardized.
“That she did this with a certain calmness and dignity
proves it to have been the result of design. A murderess
forced by conscience into confession would not have gone
into the details of her crime, but blurted out her guilt,
and left the details to be drawn from her by question.
Only the woman anxious to tell her story with the plausi-
bility necessary to insure its belief would have planned
and carried on her confession as she did.
“The action of the prisoner, in face of this proof of
devotion, though it might have been foreseen by a man,
was evidently not foreseen by her. To me, who watched
her closely at the time, her face wore a strange look of
mingled satisfaction and despair,—satisfaction in having
awakened his manhood, despair at having failed in saving
him. But it is not necessary for me to dilate on this
point. If I have been successful in presenting before you
the true condition of her mind during this struggle, you
will see for yourself what her feelings must be now that
her lover has himself confessed to a fact, to hide which
she made the greatest sacrifice of which mortal is capable."
Mr. Ferris, who, during this lengthy and exhaustive
harangue, had sat with brooding countenance and an
anxious mien, roused himself as the other ceased, and
glanced with a smile at Hickory.


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 451
“Well," said he, “that 's good reasoning; now let us
hear how you will go to work to demolish it."
The cleared brow, the playful tone of the District
Attorney showed the relieved state of his mind. Byrd's
arguments had evidently convinced him of the innocence
of Imogene Dare.
Hickory, seeing it, shook his head with a gloomy air.
“Sir," said he, “I can't demolish it. If I could tell
why Mansell fled from Widow Clemmens' house at five
minutes to twelve I might be able to do so, but that fact
stumps me. It is an act consistent with guilt. It may
. be consistent with innocence, but, as we don't know all
the facts, we can't say so. But this I do know, that my
convictions with regard to that man have undergone a
change. I now as firmly believe in his innocence as
I once did in his guilt."
“ What has produced the change ? " asked Mr. Ferris.
“Well,” said Hickory, “it all lies in this. From the
day I heard Miss Dare accuse him so confidently in the
hut, I believed him guilty; from the moment he with-
drew his defence, I believed him innocent."
Mr. Ferris and Mr. Byrd looked at him astonished.
He at once brought down his fist in vigorous assertion on
the table.
“ I tell you," said he, “ that Craik Mansell is innocent.
The truth is, he believes Miss Dare guilty, and so stands
his trial, hoping to save her."
“ And be hung for her crime ?" asked Mr. Ferris.


.- ,.-'--_ _.,-_-
452 ' HAND AND RING.
“ No; he thinks his innocence will save him, in spite
of the evidence on which we got him indicted."
But the District Attorney protested at this.
“ That can't be," said he; “ Mansell has withdrawn the
only defence he had."
“ On the contrary," asserted Hickory, “that very thing
only proves my theory true. He is still determined to
save Miss Dare by every thing short of a confession
of his own guilt. He won't lie. That man is innocent."
“ And Miss Dare is guilty ? " said Byrd.
“ Shall I make it clear to you in the way it has become
clear to Mr. Mansell ? "
As Byrd only answered by a toss of his head,
Hickory put his elbows on the table, and checking off
' every sentence with the forefinger of his right hand,
which he pointed at Mr. Ferris' shirt.stud, as if to instil
from its point conviction into that gentleman's bosom, he
proceeded with the utmost composure as follows :
“ To commence, then, with the scene in the woods.
He meets her. She is as angry at his aunt as he is.
What does she do ? She strikes the tree with her hand,
and tells him to wait till to.morrow, since a night has
been known to change the whole current of a person's
affairs. Now tell me what does that mean? Murder?
If so, she was the one to originate it. He can't forget
that. It has stamped itself upon Mansell's memory, and
when, after the assassination of Mrs. Clemmens, he recalls
those words, he is convinced that she has slain Mrs.
Clemmens to help him."


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 453
“ But, Mr. Hickory," objected Mr. Ferris, “this as-
sumes that Mr. Mansell is innocent, whereas we have
exceedingly cogent proof that he is the guilty party.
There.is the circumstance of his leaving Widow Clem-
mens' house at five minutes to twelve."
To which Hickory, with a twinkle in his eye, replied :
“I won't discuss that; it has n't been proved, you
know. . Miss Dare told you she saw him do this, but she
would n't swear to it. Nothing is to be taken for granted
against my man."
“ Then you think Miss Dare spoke falsely ? "
“I don't say that. I believe that whatever he did
could be explained if we knew as much about it as
he does. But I 'm not called upon to explain any
thing which has not appeared in the evidence against
him."
“ Well, then, we 'll take the evidence. There is his
ring, found on the scene of murder." .
“ Exactly," rejoined Hickory. “ Dropped there, as he
must suppose, by Miss Dare, because he did n't know she
had secretly restored it to his pocket."
Mr. Ferris smiled.
“You don't see the force of the evidence," said he.
“ As she /uzd restored it to his pocket, he must have been
the one to drop it there."
“ I am willing to admit he dropped it there, not that
he killed Mrs. Clemmens. I am now speaking of his
suspicions as to the assassin. When the betrothal ring


-. -...--./ .-. .-
454 HAND AND RING.
was found there, he suspects Miss Dare of the crime, and
nothing has occurred to change his suspicions."
“ But," said the District Attorney, “how does your
client, Mr. Mansell, get over this difficulty ; that Miss
Dare, who has committed a murder to put five thousand
dollars into his pocket, immediately afterward turns
round and accuses him of the crirne—nay more, furnishes
evidence against him ! "
“You can't expect the same consistency from a woman
as from a man. They can nerve themselves up one
moment to any deed of desperation, and take every pains
the next to conceal it by a lie."
“ Men will do the same ; then why not Mansell ? "
“ I am showing you why I know that Mansell believes
Miss Dare guilty of a murder. To continue, then. What
does he do when he hears that his aunt has been mur-
dered? He scratches out the face of Miss Dare in a
photograph‘; he ties up her letters with a black ribbon as
if she were dead and gone to him. Then the scene in
the Syracuse depot! The rule of three works both ways,
Mr. Byrd, and if she left her home to solve her doubts,
what shall be said of him ? The recoil, too—was it less
on his part than hers ? And, if she had cause to gather ‘
guilt from his manner, had he not as much cause to
gather it from hers? If his mind was full of suspicion
when he met her, it became conviction before he left;
and, bearing that fact in your mind, watch how he hence-
forth conducted himself. He does not come to Sibley;


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 455
the woman he fears to encounter is there. He hears of
Mr. Hildreth's arrest, reads of the discoveries which led
to it, and keeps silent. So would any other man have
done in his place, at least till he saw whether this arrest
was likely to end in trial. But he cannot forget he had
been in Sibley on the fatal day, or that there may be
some one who saw his interview with Miss Dare. When
Byrd comes to him, therefore, and tells him he is wanted
in Sibley, his first question is, ‘Am I wanted as a wit-
ness?' and, even you have acknowledged, Mr. Ferris,
that he seemed surprised to find himself accused of the
crime. But, accused, he takes his course and keeps to it.
Brought to trial, he remembers the curious way in which
he crossed the river, and thus cut short the road to the
station; and, seeing in it great opportunities for a suc-
cessful defence, chooses Mr. Orcutt for his counsel, and
trusts the secret to him. The trial goes on; acquittal
seems certain, when suddenly she is recalled to the
stand, and he hears words which make him think she is
going to betray him by some falsehood, when, instead of
following the lead of the prosecution, she launches into a
personal confession. What does he do ? Why, rise and
hold up his hand in a command for her to stop. But she
does not heed, and the rest follows as a matter of course.
The life she throws away he will not accept. He is
innocent, but his defence is false! He says so, and
leaves the jury to decide on the verdict. There can be
no doubt," Hickory finally concluded, “that some of


. - _- um"-IQ-l\
456 HAND AND RING.
these circumstances are consistent only with his belief
that Miss Dare is a murderess : such, for instance, as his
scratching out her face in the picture. Others favor the
theory in a less degree, but this is what I want to impress
upon both your minds," he declared, turning first to Mr.
Ferris and then to Mr. Byrd : “If any fact, no matter how
slzlght, leads us to the eonzn'etz'on that Craik Mansell, at any
time after the murder, entertained the belief that M iss Dare
committed it, his innocence follows as a matter of course.
For the guilty eoulrl never entertain a belief in thee guilt of
any other person."
“ Yes," said Mr. Ferris “I admit that, but we have got
to see into Mr. Mansell's mind before we can tell what
his belief really was."
“ N 0," was Hickory's reply ; “let us look at his actions.
I say that that defaced picture is conclusive. One day
he loves that woman and wants her to marry him; the
next, he defaces her picture. Why ? She had not offended
him. Not a word, not a line, passes between them to '
cause him to commit this act. But he does hear of his
aunt's murder, and he does recall her sinister promise:
‘Wait ; there is no telling what a day will bring forth.'
I say that no other cause for his act is shown except his
conviction that she is a murderess."
“ But," persisted Mr. Ferris, “ his leaving the house, as
he acknowledges he did, by this unfrequented and cir-
cuitous road ? "
“ I have said before that I cannot explain his presence


458 HAND AND RING.
“ I should declare him ‘ Not guilty,' and stick to it, if I
had to be locked up for a year."
Mr. Ferris sank into an attitude of profound thought.
Horace Byrd, impressed by this, looked at him anxiously.
“ Have your convictions been shaken by Hickory's in-
genious theory ?" he ventured to inquire at last.
Mr. Ferris abstractedly replied :
“This is no time for me to state my convictions. It is
enough that you comprehend my perplexity." And, re-
lapsing into his former condition, he remained for a
moment wrapped in silence, then he said: “Byrd, how
comes it that the humpback who excited so much atten-
tion'on the day of the murder was never found ?”
Byrd, astonished, surveyed the District Attorney with a
doubtful look that gradually changed into one of quiet
satisfaction as he realized the significance of this recur-
rence to old theories and suspicions. His answer, how-
ever, was slightly embarrassed in tone, though frank
enough to remind one of Hickory's blunt.spoken admis-
sions. ‘ .
“ Well," said he, “I suppose’ the main reason is that I
made no attempt to find him."
“ Do you think that you were wise in that, Mr. Byrd ?"
inquired Mr. Ferris, with some severity.
Horace laughed.
“ I can find him for you to.day, if you want him," he
declared.
“ You can ? You know him, then ?”


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 459
“Very well. Mr. Ferris,” he courteously remarked,
“I perhaps should have explained to you at the time,
that I recognized this person and knew him to be an
honest man ; but the habits of secrecy in our profession
are so fostered by the l.ives we lead, that we sometimes
hold our tongue when it would be better for us to speak.
The humpback who talked with us on the court.house
steps the morning Mrs. Clemmens was murdered, was not
what he seemed, sir. He was a detective ; a detective in
disguise ; a man with whom I never presume to meddle—
in other words, our famous Mr. Gryce." ’
“ Gryce !—that man ! ” exclaimed Mr. Ferris, as-
tounded.
“Yes, sir. He was in disguise, probably for some
purpose of his own, but I knew his eye. Gryce's eye
is n't to be mistaken by any one who has much to
do with him."
“ And that famous detective was actually on the spot
at the time this murder was discovered, and you let him
go without warning me of his presence ?"
“ Sir," returned Mr. Byrd, “neither you nor 1 nor any
one at that time could foresee what a serious and compli-
cated case this was going to be. Besides, he did not linger
in this vicinity, but took the cars only a few minutes after
he parted from us. I did not think he wanted to be
dragged into this affair unless it was necessary. He had
important matters of his own to look after. However, if
suspicion had continued to follow him, I should have


'-___6-
460 HAND AND RING.
notified him of the fact, and let him speak for himself.
But it vanished so quickly in the light of other develop-
ments, I just let the matter drop."
The impatient frown with which Mr. Ferris received
this acknowledgment showed he was not pleased.
“ I think you made a mistake," said he. Then, after
a minute's thought, added: “You have seen Gryce
since ? ” ‘
“ Yes, sir ; several times."
“And he acknowledged himself to have been the
humpback ?"
“ Yes, sir."
"You must have had some conversation with him,
then, about this murder? He was too nearly concerned
in it not to take some interest in the affair ? "
“Yes, sir; Gryce takes an interest in all murder
cases."
“Well, then, what did he have to say about this one ?
He gave an opinion, I suppose ?"
“No, sir. Gryce never gives an opinion without
study, and we detectives have no time to study up an
affair not our own. If you want to know what Gryce
thinks about a crime, you have got to put the case into
his hands."
Mr. Ferris paused and seemed to ruminate. Seeing
this, Mr. Byrd flushed and cast a side glance at Hickory,
who returned him an expressive shrug.
“Mr. Ferris," ventured the former, “if you wish to


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 461
consult with Mr. Gryce on this matter, do not hesitate
because of us. Both Hickory and myself acknowledge
we are more or less baffied by this case, and Gryce's
judgment is a good-thing to have in a perplexity."
“ You think so ?" queried the District Attorney.
“I do," said Byrd.
Mr. Ferris glanced at Hickory.
“Oh, have the old man here if you want him," was
that detective's blunt reply. “I have nothing to say
against your getting all the light you can on this
affair."
“Very good," returned Mr. Ferris. “You may give
me his address before you go."
“His address for to.night is Utica," observed Byrd.
“ He could be here before morning, if you wanted
him."
“I am in no such hurry as that," returned Mr. Ferris,
and he sank again into thought.
The detectives took advantage of his abstraction to
utter a few private condolences in each other's ears.
“So it seems we are to be laid on the shelf," whis-
pered Hickory.
“Yes, for which let us be thankful,"-answered Byrd.
“ Why? Are you getting tired of the affair ? "
“ Yes."
A humorous twinkle shone for a minute in Hickory's
eye.
“ Pooh ! " said he, “it 's just getting interesting."


462 HAND AND RING.
“ Opinions differ,” quoth Byrd.
“ Not much," retorted Hickory.
Something in the way he said this made Byrd look
at him more intently. He instantly changed his tone.
“Old fellow," said he, “you don't believe Miss Dare
committed this crime any more than I do."
A sly twinkle answered him from the detective's half-
shut eye.
“ All that talk of having seen through your disguise in
the hut is just nonsense on your part to cover up your
real notion about it. What is that notion, Hickory?
Come, out with it; let us understand each other thor-
oughly at last."
“ Do I understand you?”
“You shall, when you tell me just what your convic-
tions are in this matter." .
“ Well, then," replied Hickory, with a short glance at
Mr. Ferris, “ I believe (it 's hard as pulling teeth to own
it) that neither of them did it: that she thought him
guilty and he thought her so, but that in reality the crime
lies at the door of some third party totally disconnected
with either 'of them."
“ Such as Gouverneur Hildreth ? " whispered Byrd.
“ Sueh—as—Gouverneur Hildreth," drawled Hickory.
The two detectives eyed each other, smiled, and
turned with relieved countenances toward the District
Attorney. He was looking at them with great earnest-
D655.


THE SCALES oF JUSTICE. 463
“ That is your joint opinion? ” he remarked.
“ It is mine," cried Hickory, bringing his fist down on
the table with a vim that made every individual article on
it jump.
“ It is and it is not mine," acquiesced Byrd, as the eye
of Mr. Ferris turned in his direction. “ Mr. Mansell
may be innocent—indeed, after hearing Hickory's ex-
planation of his conduct, I am ready to believe he is—-
but to say that Gouverneur Hildreth is guilty comes
hard to me after the long struggle I have maintained in
favor of his innocence. Yet, what other conclusion re-
mains after an impartial view of the subject ? None.
Then why should I shrink from acknowledging I was at
fault, or hesitate to admit a defeat where so many causes
combined to mislead me ? "
“Which means you agree with Hickory?” ventured
the District Attorney.
Mr. Byrd slowly bowed.
Mr. Ferris continued for a moment looking alternately
from one to the other ; then he observed :
“ When two such men unite in an opinion, it is at least
And, rising, he took on an
worthy of consideration.'
aspect of sudden determination. “Whatever may be the
truth in regard to this matter," said he, “one duty is
clear. Miss Dare, as you inform me, has been—with but
little idea of the consequences, I am sure—allowed to re-
main under the impression that the interview which she
held in the hut was with her lover. As her belief in the


464 HAND AND RING.
prisoner's guilt doubtless rests upon the admissions which-
weré at that time made in her hearing, it is palpable that
a grave injustice has been done both to her and to him
'by leaving this mistake of hers uncorrected. I therefore
consider it due to Miss Dare, as well as to the prisoner,
to undeceive her on this score before another hour has
passed over our heads. I must therefore request you,
Mr. Byrd, to bring the lady here. You will find her still
in the court.house, I think, as she requested leave to
.remain in the room below till the crowd had left the
streets."
Mr. Byrd, who, in the new light which had been
thrown on the affair by his own and Hickory's supposi-
tions, could not but see the justice of this, rose with
alacrity to obey.
“ I will bring her if she is in the building," he declared,
hurriedly leaving the room.
“ And if she is not," Mr. Ferris remarked, with aglance
at the consciously rebuked Hickory, “we shall have to
follow her to her home, that is all. I am determined to
see this woman's mind cleared of all misapprehensions
before I take another step in the way of my duty.


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 465
XXXVI.
A MISTAKE RECTIFIED.
If circumstances lead me, I will find
Where truth is hid, though it were hid, indeed,
Within the centre. —HAm.s'r. .
F Mr. Ferris, in seeking this interview with Miss
Dare, had been influenced by any hope of finding
her in an unsettled and hesitating state of mind, he was
effectually undeceived, when, after a few minutes' absence,
Mr. Byrd returned with her to his presence. Though her
physical strength was nearly exhausted, and she looked
quite pale and worn, ther,e was a steady gleam in her eye,
which spoke of an unshaken purpose.
Seeing it, and noting the forced humility with which
she awaited his bidding at the threshold, the District
Attorney, for the first time perhaps, realized the power
of this great, if perverted, nature, and advancing with
real kindness to the door, he greeted her with as much
deference as he ever showed to ladies, and gravely
pushed toward her a chair. .
She did not take it. On the contrary, she drew back
a step, and looked at him in some doubt, but a sudden
glimpse of Hickory's sturdy figure in the corner seemed
to reassure her, and merely stopping to acknowledge Mr.
Ferris' courtesy by a bow, she glided forward and took
her stand by the chair he had provided.


466 HAND AND RING.
_ __._-, ... '-.'..,_
A short and, on his part, somewhat embarrassing
pause followed. It was broken by her.
“ You sent for me," she suggested. “You perhaps
want some explanation of my conduct, or some assurance
that the confession I made before the court to.day was
true ?"
If Mr. Ferris had needed any further proof than he had
already received that Imogene Dare, in presenting herself
before the world as a criminal, had been actuated by a
spirit of devotion to the prisoner, he would have found it
in the fervor and unconscious dignity with which she
uttered these few words. But he needed no such proof.
Giving her, therefore, a look full of grave significance, he
replied :
“ No, Miss Dare. After my experience of the ease
with which you can contradict yourself in matters- - of the
most serious import, you will pardon me if I say that the
truth or falsehood of your words must be arrived at by
some other means than any you yourself can offer. My
business with you at this time is of an entirely different
nature. Instead of listening to further confessions from
you, it has become my duty to offer one myself. Not on
my own behalf," he made haste to explain, as she looked
up, startled, “ but on account of these men, who, in their
anxiety to find out who murdered Mrs. Clemmens, made
use of means and resorted to deceptions which, if their
superiors had been consulted, would not have been coun-
tenanced for a moment."


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 467
“ I do not understand," she murmured, looking at the
two detectives with a wonder that suddenly merged into
alarm as she noticed the embarrassment of the one and
the decided discomfiture of the other.
Mr. Ferris at once resumed :
“ In the weeks that have elapsed since the commission
of this crime, it has been my lot to subject you to much
mental misery, Miss Dare. Provided by yourself with a
possible clue to the murder, I have probed the matter
with an unsparing hand. Heedless of the pain I was in-
fiicting, or the desperation to which I was driving you, I
asked you questions and pressed you for facts as long as
there seemed questions to ask or facts to be gained. My
duty and the claims of my position demanded this, and
for it I can make no excuse, notwithstanding the unhappy
results that have ensued. But, Miss Dare, whatever
anxiety I may have shown in procuring the conviction of
a man I believed to be a criminal, I have never wished to
win my case at the expense of justice and right ; and had
I been told before you came to the stand that you had
been made the victim of a deception calculated to influ-
ence your judgment, I should have hastened to set you
right with the same anxiety as I do now."
” she began.

“Sir—sir
But Mr. Ferris would not listen.
“ Miss Dare," he proceeded with all the gravity of con-
viction, “ you have uttered a deliberate perjury in the
court.room to.day. You said that you alone were re-


468 HAND AND RING.
sponsible for the murder of Mrs. Clemmens, whereas you
not only did not commit the crime yourself but were not
even an accessory to it. Wait ! ” he commanded, as she
flashed upon him a look full of denial, “I would rather
you did not speak. The motive for this calumny you ut-
tered upon yourself lies in a fact which may be modified
by what I have to reveal. Hear me, then, before you
stain yourself still further by a falsehood you will not
only be unable to maintain, but which you may no longer
see reason for insisting upon. Hickory, turn around so
Miss Dare can see your face. Miss Dare, when you saw
fit to call upon this man to upbear you in the extraordi-
nary statements you made to.day, did you realize that in
doing this you appealed to the one person best qualified
to prove the falsehood of what you had said ? I see you
did not ; yet it is so. He if no other can testify that a few
weeks ago, no idea of taking this crime upon your own
shoulders had ever crossed your mind ; that, on the con-
trary, your whole heart was filled with sorrow for the sup-
posed guilt of another, and plans for inducing that
other to make a confession of his guilt before the
world."
“ This man ! " was her startled exclamation. “ It is
not possible ; I do not know him ; he does not know me.
I never talked with him but once in my life, and that was
to say words I am not only willing but anxious for him
to repeat."
“ Miss Dare," the District Attorney pursued, “ when


THE SCALES oF JUSTICE. 469
you say this you show how completely you have
been deceived. The conversation to which you allude
is not the only one which has passed between you two.
Though you did not know it, you held a talk with
this man at a time in which you so completely dis-
covered the secrets of your heart, you can never hope
to deceive us or the world by any story of personal
guilt which you may see fit to manufacture."
“I reveal my heart to this man ! ” she repeated, in'
a maze of doubt and terror that left her almost un.'
able to stand. “You are playing with my misery, Mr.
Ferris."
The District Attorney took a different tone.
“Miss Dare," he asked, “do you remember a cer-
tain interview you held with a gentleman in the hut
back of Mrs. Clemmens' house, a short time after the
murder?"
“Did this man overhear my words that day?" she
murmured, reaching out her hand to steady herself by
the back of the chai;.;- near which she was standing.
“Your words that “day were addressed to this man."
“ To him ! ” she repeated, staggering back.
“ Yes, to him, disguised as Craik Mansell. With an
unjustifiable zeal to know the truth, he had taken this
plan for surprising your secret thoughts, and he succeed-
ed, Miss Dare, remember that, even if he did you and
your lover the cruel wrong of leaving you undisturbed in
the impression that Mr. Mansell had admitted his guilt in
your presence."


470 HAND AND RING.
But Imogene, throwing out her hands, cried impetu-
ously :
“It is not so ; you are mocking me. This man never
could deceive me like that ! "
But even as she spoke she recoiled, for Hickory, with
ready art, had thrown his arms and head forward on the
table before which he sat, in the attitude and with much
the same appearance he had preserved on the day she
had come upon him in the hut. Though he had no as-
sistance from disguise and all the accessories were lack-
ing which had helped forward the illusion on the former
occasion, there was still a sufficient resemblance between
this bowed figure and the one that had so impressed itself '
upon her memory as that of her wretched and remorse-
ful lover, that she stood rooted to the ground in her sur.
prise and dismay.
“You see how it was done, do you not?" inquired
Mr. Ferris. Then, as he saw she did not heed, added :
“ I hope you remember what passed between you two on
that day ?"
As if struck by a thought which altered the whole at-
mosphere of her hopes and feelings, she took a step for-
ward with a power and vigor that recalled to mind the
Imogene of old.
“Sir," she exclaimed, “let that man turn around and
face me ! "
Hickory at once rose.
“ Tell me," she demanded, surveying him with a look


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 47!
it took all his well.known hardihood to sustain unmoved,
“was it all false—all a trick from the beginning to the
end P I received a letter———was that written by your hand
too ? Are you capable of forgery as well as of other
deceptions ?" .
The detective, who knew no other way to escape from
his embarrassment, uttered a short laugh. But finding a
reply was expected of him, answered with well.simulated
indifference :
“ No, only the address on the envelope was mine; the
letter was one which Mr. Mansell had written but never
sent. I found it in his waste.paper basket in Buf-
falo."
“ Ah ! and you could make use of that ?"
“ I know it was a mean trick," he acknowledged, drop-
ping his eyes from her face. “ But things do look dif-
ferent when you are in the thick of 'em than when you
take a stand and observe them from the outside. I—I
was ashamed of it long ago, Miss Dare "—this was a lie;
Hickory never was really ashamed of it—“ and would
have told you about it, but I thought ‘mum' was the
word after a scene like that." “
She did not seem to hear him.
“Then Mr. Mansell did not send me the letter inviting
me to meet him in the hut on a certain day, some few
weeks after Mrs. Clemmens was murdered? ”
“ No."
“ Nor know that such a letter had been sent ?"
“ No."


472 HAND AND RING.
“ Nor come, as I supposed he did, to Sibley? nor ad-
mit what I supposed he admitted in my hearing? nor
listen, as I supposed he did, to the insinuations I made
use of in the hut?"
“ No."
Imbued with sudden purpose and energy, she turned
upon the District Attorney.
“Oh, what a revelation to come to me now!" she
murmured.
Mr. Ferris bowed.
“ You are right," he assented ; “it should have come
to you before. But I can only repeat what I have pre-
viously said, that if I had known of this deception my-
self, you would have been notified of it previous to going
upon the stand. For your belief in the prisoner's guilt
has necessarily had its effect upon the jury, and I cannot
but see how much that belief must have been strength-
ened, if it was not actually induced, by the interview
which we have just been considering." '
Her eyes took on fresh light ; she looked at Mr. Ferris
as if she would read his soul.
“ Can it be possible " she breathed, but stopped as
suddenly as she began. The District Attorney was not

the man from whom she could hope to obtain any opinion
.. in reference to the prisoner's innocence.
Mr. Ferris, noting her hesitation and understanding it
too, perhaps, moved toward her with a certain kindly dig-
nity, saying :


THE SCALES oF JUSTICE. 473
“I should be glad to utter words that would give you
some comfort, Miss Dare, but in the present state of af-
fairs I do not feel as if I could go farther than bid you
trust in the justice and wisdom of those who have this
matter in charge. As for your own wretched and un-
called.for action in court to.day, it was a madness which
I hope will be speedily forgotten, or, if not forgotten, laid
to a despair almost too heavy 'for mortal strength to
endure."
“ Thank you," she murmured ; but her look, the poise
of her head, the color that quivered through the pallor of
. her cheek, showed she was not thinking of herself.
Doubt, the first which had visited her since she became
convinced that Craik Mansell was the destroyer of his
aunt's life, had cast a momentary gleam over her thoughts,
and she was conscious of but one wish, and that was to
understand the feelings of the men before her.
But she soon saw the hopelessness of this, and, sinking
back again into her old distress as she realized how
much reason she still had for believing Craik Mansell
guilty, she threw a hurried look toward the door as if
anxious to escape from the eyes and ears of men inter-
ested, as she knew, in gleaning her every thought and
sounding her every impulse.
Mr. Ferris at once comprehended her intention, and
courteously advanced.
“ Do you wish to return home ? " he asked.
“ If a carriage can be obtained."


474 HAND AND RING.
“ There can be no difficulty about that," he answered ;
and he gave Hickory a look, and whispered a word
to Mr. Byrd, that sent them both speedily from the
room. .
When he was left alone with her, he said :
“ Before you leave my presence, Miss Dare, I wish to
urge upon you the necessity of patience. Any sudden
or violent act on your part now would result in no good,
and lead to much evil. Let me, then, pray you to
remain quiet in your home, confident that Mr. Orcutt
and myself will do all in our power to insure justice and
make the truth evident."
She bowed, but did not speak; while her impatient
eye, resting feverishly on the door, told of her anxiety
to depart.
“She will need watching," commented Mr. Ferris to
himself, and he, too, waited impatiently for the detec-
tives' return. When they came in he gave Imogene to
their charge, but the look he cast Byrd contained a
hint which led that gentleman to take his hat when
he went below to put Miss Dare into her carriage.


THE SCALES oF JUSTICE. 475
XXXVII.
UNDER THE GREAT TREE.
We but teach
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
To plague the inventor. This even.handed justice
Commends the ingredients of our poisoned chalice
To our own lips. —MACBETH.
MOGENE went to her home. Confused, disordered,
the prey of a thousand hopes and a thousand fears,
she sought for solitude and found it within the four walls
of the small room which was now her only refuge.
The two detectives who had followed her to the house
—the one in the carriage, the other on foot—met, as the
street.door closed upon her retreating form, and con-
sulted together as to their future course.
“Mr. Ferris thinks we ought to keep watch over the
house, to make sure she does not leave it again," an-
nounced Mr. Byrd.
“ Does he? Well, then, I am the man for that job,"
quoth Hickory. “ I was on this very same beat last
night."
“ Good reason why you should rest and give me a
turn at the business," declared the other.
“ Do you want it ?"
“ I am willing to take it," said Byrd.
“Well, then, after nine o'clock you shall."
“ Why after nine ? "


476 HAND AND RING.
“ Because if she 's bent on skylarking, she 'll leave the
house before then," laughed the other.
“ And you want to be here if she goes out ?"
“ Well, yes, rather.’ "
They compromised matters by both remaining, Byrd
within view of the house and Hickory on a corner within
hail. Neither expected much from this effort at sur-
veillance, there seeming to be no good reason why she
should venture forth into the streets again that night.
But the watchfulness of the true detective mind is un-
ceasing.
Several hours passed. The peace of evening had come
at last to the troubled town. In the streets, especially,
its gentle influence was felt, and regions which had seethed
all day with a restless and impatient throng were fast set-
tling into their usual quiet and solitary condition. A new
moon hung in the west, and to Mr. Byrd, pacing the walk
in front of Imogene's door, it seemed as if he had never
seen the town look more lovely or less like the abode of
violence and crime. All was so quiet, especially in the
house opposite him, he was fast becoming convinced that
further precautions were needless, and that Imogene had
no intention of stirring abroad again, when the window
where her light burned suddenly became dark, and he
perceived the street door cautiously open, and her tall,
vailed figure emerge and pass rapidly up the street.
Merely stopping to give the signal to Hickory, he hast-
ened after her with rapid but cautious steps.


THE SCALES oF JUSTICE. 477
She went like one bound on no uncertain errand.
Though many of the walks were heavily shaded, and the
light of the lamps was not brilliant, she speeded on from
corner to corner, threading the business streets with
rapidity, and emerging upon the large and handsome
avenue that led up toward the eastern district of the town
before Hickory could overtake Byrd, and find suflicient
breath to ask :
“Where is she bound for ? Who lives up this way ? "'
“ I don't know," answered Byrd, lowering his voice in
the fear of startling her into a knowledge of their pres-
ence. “ It may be she is going to Miss Tremaine's ; the
High School is somewhere in this direction."
But even as they spoke, the gliding figure before them
turned into another street, and before they knew it, they
were on the car.track leading out to Somerset Park.
“ Ha ! I know now," whispered Hickory. “ It is
Orcutt she is after." And pressing the arm of Byrd in
his enthusiasm, he speeded after her with renewed zeal.
Byrd, seeing no reason to dispute a fact that was every
moment becoming more evident, hurried forward also,
and after a long and breathless walk—for she seemed to
be urged onward by flying feet—they found themselves
Within sight of the grand old trees that guarded the
entrance to the lawyer's somewhat spacious grounds.
“What are we going to do now?" asked Byrd, stop-
ping, as they heard the gate click behind her.
“Wait and watch," said Hickory. “She has not led


478 HAND AND RING.
us this wild.goose chase for nothing.' And leaping the
hedge, he began creeping up toward the house, leaving
his companion to follow or not, as he saw fit.
Meantime Imogene had passed up the walk and
paused before the front door. But a single' look at it
seemed to satisfy her, for, moving hurriedly away, she
flitted around the corner of the house and stopped just
before the long windows whose brightly illumined sashes
proclaimed that the master of the house was still in his
library.
She seemed to feel relieved at this sight. Pausing, she
leaned against the frame of a trellis.work near by to
' gather up her courage or regain her breath before pro-
ceeding to make her presence known to the lawyer. As
she thus leaned, the peal of the church clock was heard,
striking the hour of nine. She started, possibly at finding
it so late, and bending forward, looked at the windows
before her with an anxious eye that soon caught sight of
a small opening left by the curtains having been drawn
together by a too hasty or a too careless hand, and
recognizing the opportunity it afforded for a glimpse into
the room before her, stepped with a light tread upon the
piazza and quietly peered within.
The sight she saw never left her memory.
Seated before a deadened fire, she beheld Mr. Orcutt.
He was neither writing nor reading, nor, in the true sense
of the word, thinking. The papers he had evidently
taken from his desk, lay at his side undisturbed, and


- - THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 479
from one end of the room to the other, solitude, suffering,
and despair seemed to fill the atmosphere and weigh upon
its dreary occupant, till the single lamp which shone
beside him burned dimmer and dimmer, like a life going
out or a purpose vanishing in the gloom of a stealthily
approaching destiny.
Imogene, who had come to this place thus secretly and
at this late hour of the day with the sole intent of procur-
ing the advice of this man concerning the deception
which had been practised upon her before the trial, felt
her heart die within her as she surveyed this rigid figure
and realized all it implied. Though his position was
such she could not see his face, there was that in his
attitude which bespoke hopelessness and an utter weari-
ness of life, and as ash after ash fell from the grate, she
imagined how the gloom deepened on the brow which till
this hour had confronted the world with such undeviating
courage and confidence.
It was therefore a powerful shock to her when, in
another moment, he looked up, and, without moving his
body, turned his head slowly around in such a way as to
afford her a glimpse of his face. For, in all her memory
of it—and she had seen it distorted by many and various
emotions during the last few weeks—she had never beheld
it wear such a look as now. It gave her a new idea of
the man ; it filled her with dismay, and sent the life.blood
from her cheeks. It fascinated her, as the glimpse of any
evil thing fascinates, and held her spell-bound long after


-.
_ __-G.--»_.-..--
480 HAND AND RING.
he had turned back again to his silent contemplation of
the fire and its ever.drifting ashes. It was as if a vail
had been rent before her eyes, disclosing to her a living
soul writhing in secret struggle with its own worst pas-
sions; and horrified at the revelation, more than horri-
fied at the remembrance that it was her own action of
the morning which had occasioned this change in one she
had long reverenced, if not loved, she sank helplessly
upon her knees and pressed her face to the window in a
prayer for courage to sustain this new woe and latest, if
not heaviest, disappointment.
It came while she was kneeling—came in the breath of
the cold night wind, perhaps ; for, rising up, she turned
her forehead gratefully to the breeze, and drew in long
draughts of it before she lifted her hand and knocked
upon the window.
The sharp, shrill sound made by her fingers on the
pane reassured her as much as it startled him. Gathering
up her long cloak, which had fallen 'apart in her last
hurried movement, she waited with growing self.posses-
sion for his appearance at the window.
He came almost immediately—came with his usual
hasty step and with much of his usual expression on his
well.disciplined features. Flinging aside the curtains, he
cried impatiently : “ Who is there ? " But at sight of the
tall figure of Imogene standing upright and firm on the
piazza without, he drew back with a gesture of dismay,
which was almost forbidding in its character.


TIIE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 481
She saw it, but did not pause. Pushing up the window,
she stepped into the room; then, as he did not offer to
help her, turned and shut the window behind her and
carefully arranged the curtains. He meantime stood
watching her with eyes in whose fierce light burned equal
love and equal anger.
When all was completed, she faced him. Instantly a
cry broke from his lips :
“ You here!" he exclaimed, as if her presence were
more than he could meet or stand. But in another mo-
ment the forlornness of her position seemed to strike him,
and he advanced toward her, saying in a voice husky
with passion : “ Wretched woman, what have you done?
Was it not enough that for weeks, months now, you
have played with my love and misery as with toys, that
you should rise up at the last minute and crush me before
the whole world with a story, mad as it is false, of your-
self being a criminal and the destroyer of the woman for
whose death your miserable lover is being tried? Had
you no consideration, no pity, if not for yourself, ruined
by this day's work, for me, who have sacrificed every thing,
done every thing the most devoted man or lawyer could
do to save this fellow and win you for my wife ?"
“Sir," said she, meeting the burning anger of his look
with the coldness of a set despair, as if in the doubt
awakened by his changed demeanor she sought to probe
his mind for its hidden secret, “I did what any other
woman would have done in my place. When we are
pushed to the wall we tell the truth."


4b2 )
» -_...... ... .-. ..
HAND AND RING.
“ The truth l " Was that his laugh that rang startlingly
through the room? “ The truth ! You told the truth!
Imogene, Imogene, is any such farce necessary with
me ?"
Her lips, which had opened, closed again, and she did
not answer for a moment ; then she asked :
“How do you know that what I said was not the
truth ? "
“ How do I know?" He paused as if to get his
breath. “How do I know ? ” he repeated, calling up all
his self.control to sustain her gaze unmoved. “ Do you
think I have lost my reason, Imogene, that you put
me such a question as that ? How do I know you are
innocent? Recall your own words and acts since the
day we met at Mrs. Clemmens' house, and tell me how it
would be possible for me to think any thing else of
you ?"
But her purpose did not relax, neither did she falter as
she returned :
“ Mr. Orcutt, will you tell me what has ever been said
by me or what you have ever known me to do that would
make it certain I did not commit this crime myself ?"
His indignation was too much for his courtesy.
“ Imogene," he commanded, “be silent ! “I will not
listen to any further arguments of this sort. Is n't it
enough that you have destroyed my happiness, that you
should seek to sport with my good.sense? I say you are
innocent as a babe unborn, not only of the crime itself


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 483
but of any complicity in it. Every word you have spoken, '
every action you have taken, since the day of Mrs. Clem-
mens' death, proves you to be the victim of a fixed
conviction totally at war with the statement you were '
pleased to make to.day. Only your belief in the guilt of

another and your—your
He stopped, choked. The thought of his rival mad-
dened him.
She immediately seized the opportunity to say :
“ Mr. Orcutt, I cannot argue about what I have done.
It is over and cannot be remedied. It is true I have
destroyed myself, but this is no time to think of that.
All I can think of or mourn over now is that, by
destroying myself, I have not succeeded in saving Craik
Mansell."
If her purpose was to probe the lawyer's soul for
the deadly wound that had turned all his sympathies
to gall, she was successful at last. Turning upon her
with a look in which despair and anger were strangely
mingled, he cried :
“ And me, Imogene—have you no thought for me ?"
“ Sir," said she, “ any thought from one disgraced as I
am now, would be an insult to one of your character and
position."
It was true. In the eyes of the world Tremont
Orcutt and Imogene Dare henceforth stood as far apart
as the poles. Realizing it only too well, he uttered a
half.inarticulate exclamation, and trod restlessly to the


484 HAND AND RING. .
..A —.-.,,.'
other end of the room. When he came back, it was
with more of the lawyer's aspect and less of the baffled
lover's.
“Imogene," he said, “ what could have induced you
to resort to an expedient so dreadful? Had you lost
confidence in me? Had I not told you I would save
this man from his threatened fate ?"
“You cannot do every thing," she replied. "There
are limits even to a power like yours. I knew that
Craik was lost if I gave to the court the testimony which
Mr. Ferris expected from me."
“Ah, then," he cried, seizing with his usual quickness
at the admission which had thus unconsciously, perhaps,
slipped from her, “you acknowledge you uttered a per-
jury to save yourself from making declarations you
believed to be hurtful to the prisoner? "
A faint smile crossed her lips, and her whole aspect
suddenly changed.
“ Yes," she said; “I have no motive for hiding it
from you now. I perjured myself to escape destroying
Craik Mansell. I was scarcely the mistress of my own
actions. I had suffered so much I was ready to do any
thing to save the man I had so relentlessly pushed to his
doom. I forgot that God does not prosper a lie."
The jealous gleam which answered her from the law-
yer's eyes was a revelation.
“You regret, then," he said, “that you tossed my
happiness away with a breath of your perjured lips ?"
“ I regret I did not tell the truth and trust God."
4.-


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 485
At this answer, uttered with the simplicity of a penitent
spirit, Mr. Orcutt unconsciously drew back. '
“And, may I ask, what has caused this sudden
regret?" he inquired, in a tone not far removed from
mockery ; “the generous action of the prisoner in reliev-
ing you from your self.imposed burden of guilt by an
acknowledgment that struck at the foundation of the
defence I had so carefully prepared ? ”
“ No," was her short reply ;. “that could but afl"ord me
joy. Of whatever sin he may be guilty, he is at least
free from the reproach of accepting deliverance at the
expense of a woman. I am sorry I said what I did
to.day, because a revelation has since been made to
me, which proves I could never have sustained myself
in the position I took, and that it was mere suicidal
folly in me to attempt to save Craik Mansell by such
means."
“ A revelation ? ”
“ Yes." And, forgetting all else in the purpose which
had actuated her in seeking this interview, Imogene drew
nearer to the lawyer and earnestly said: “There have
been some persons———I have perceived it—who have won-
dered at my deep conviction of Craik Mansell's guilt.
But the reasons I had justified it. They were great,
greater than any one knew, greater even than you knew.
His mother—were she living—must have thought as I
did, had she been placed beside me and seen what I
have seen, and heard what I have heard from the time.


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. - . 487
hearth and began kicking the burnt.out logs with his
restless foot. As he did so, Imogene heard him mutter
between his set teeth :
“ It is almost enough to make one believe in a God! "
Struck, horrified, she glided anxiously to his side.
“ Do not you believe in a God ?" she asked.
He was silent.
Amazed, almost frightened, for she had never heard
him breathe a word of scepticism before,—though, to be
sure, he had never mentioned the name of the Deity in
her presence,—she stood looking at him like one who had
received a blow ; then she said : .
“ I believe in God. It is my punishment that I do. It
is He who wills blood for. blood; who dooms the guilty
to a merited death. Oh, if He only would accept the
sacrifice I so willingly offer !—take the life I so little
n
value, and give me in return
“ Mansell's ? " completed the lawyer, turning upon her
in aburst of fury he no longer had power to suppress.
“Is that your cry—always and forever your cry? You
drive me too far, Imogene. This mad and senseless

passion for a man who no longer loves you
“Spare me ! " rose from her trembling lips. “ Let me
forget that."
But the great lawyer only laughed. ,
“You make it worth my while to save you the bitter-
ness of such a remembrance," he cried. Then, as she
remained silent, he changed his tone to one of careless
inquiry, and asked :


488 HAND AND RING.
._.. . ..-..--
“Was it to tell this story of the prisoner having fled
from his aunt's house that you came here to.night ? "
Recalled to the purpose of the hour, she answered,
hurriedly:
“ Not entirely; that story was what Mr. Ferris ex-
pected me to testify to in court this morning. You see
for yourself in what a position it would have put the
prisoner." .
“And the revelation you have received?” the lawyer
coldly urged.
“ Was of a deception that has been practised upon me
—a base deception by which I was led to think long ago
that Craik Mansell had admitted his guilt and only
trusted to the excellence of his defence to escape punish-
ment."
“I do not understand, said Mr. Orcutt. “Who
could have practised such deception upon you?"
“ The detectives," she murmured ; “that rough, heart-
!
less fellow they call Hickory.' And, in a burst of in-
dignation, she told how she had been practised upon, and
what the results had been upon her belief, if not upon
the testimony which grew out of that belief.
The lawyer listened with a strange apathy. What
would once have aroused his fiercest indignation and
fired him to an exertion of his keenest powers, fell on
him now like the tedious repetition of an old and worn-
outtale. He scarcely looked up when she was done;
and despair—the first, perhaps, she had ever really felt——


THE SCALES oF JUSTICE. 489
began to close in around her as she saw how deep a gulf
she had dug between this man and herself by the incon-
siderate act which had robbed him of all hope of ever
making her his wife. Moved by this feeling, she sud-
denly asked :
“ Have you lost all interest in your client, Mr. Orcutt?
Have you no wish or hope remaining of seeing him
acquitted of this crime ?"
“My client," responded the lawyer, with bitter em-
phasis, “has taken his case into his own hands. It
would be presumptuous in me to attempt any thing further
in his favor."
“ Mr. Orcutt ! ”
“ Ah ! " he scornfully laughed, with a quick yielding
to his passion as startling as it was unexpected, “ you
thought you could play with me as you would; use my
skill and ignore the love that prompted it. You are a
clever woman,' Imogene, but you went too far when you
considered my forbearance unlimited."
“And you forsake Craik Mansell, in the hour of his
extremity ? ” .
“ Craik Manisell has forsaken me."
This was true ; for her sake her lover had thrown his
defence to the winds and rendered the assistance of his
counsel unavailable. Seeing her droop her head abashe"cl,
Mr. Orcutt dryly proceeded.
“ I do not know what may take place in court to.mor-
row," said he. “ It is diflicult to determine what will be


...-‘'
490 HAND AND RING.
the outcome of so complicated a case. The District
Attorney, in consideration of the deception which has
been practised upon you, may refuse to prosecute any
further; or, if the case goes on and the jury is called
upon for a verdict, they may or may not be moved by its
peculiar aspects to acquit a man of such generous dis-
positions. If they are, I shall do nothing to hinder an
acquittal; but ask for no more aqtive measures on my
part. I cannot plead for the lover of the woman who has
disgraced me."
This decision, from one she had trusted so implicitly,
seemed to crush her.
“Ah," she murmured, “if you did not believe him
guilty you would not leave him thus to his fate."
He gave her a short, side.long glance, half.mocking,
half.pitiful.
“ If," she pursued, “you had felt even a passing gleam
of doubt, such as came to me when I discovered that he
had never really admitted his guilt, you would let no
mere mistake on the part of a woman turn you from your
duty as counsellor for a man on trial for his life."
His glance lost its pity and became wholly mocking.
“And do you cherish but passing gleams?” he sar-
castically asked.
She started back.
“ I laugh at the inconsistency of women," he cried.
“You have sacrificed every thing, even risked your life
for a man you really believe guilty of crime; yet if


... _.... --_,.,,v-
4g2 HAND AND RING.
“ Not even now."
It seemed as if she could not believe his words.
“And yet you know all there is against him ; all that I
do now ! ”
“ I know he visited his aunt's house at or after the time
she was murdered, but that is no proof he killed her,
Miss Dare."
“ No," she admitted with slow conviction, “no. But
why did he fly in that wild way when he left it? Why did
he go straight to Buffalo and not wait to give me the in-
terview he promised ?" .
“Shall I tell you ?" Mr. Orcutt inquired, with a
dangerous sneer on his lips. “ Do you wish to know why
this man—the man you have so loved—the man for
whom you would die this moment, has conducted himself
with such marked discretion ?"
“ Yes," came like a breath from between Imogene's
parted lips.
“ Well," said the lawyer, dropping his words with cruel
clearness, “ Mr. Mansell has a great faith in women. He
has such faith in you, Imogene Dare, he thinks you are
all you declare yourself to be ; that in the hour you stood
up before the court and called yourself a murderer, you
spoke but the truth ; that " He stopped ; even his
scornful aplamb would not allow him to go on in the face
of the look she wore.

“ Say—say those words again ! ” she gasped. “ Let me
hear them once more. He thinks what ? "


THE SCALES or JUSTICE. 493'
“That you are what you proclaimed yourself to-e this
day, the actual assailant and murderer of Mrs. Clemmens.
He has thought so all along, Miss Dare, why, I do not
know. Whether he saw any thing or heard any thing in
that house from which you saw him fly so abruptly, or
whether he relied' solely upon the testimony of the ring,
which you must remember he never acknowledged hav-
ing received back from you, I only know that from the
minute he heard of his aunt's death, his suspicions flew
to you, and that, in despite of such suggestions as I felt
it judicious to make., they have never suffered shock or
been turned from their course from that day to this.
Such honor," concluded Mr. Orcutt, with dry sarcasm,
“does the man you love show to the woman who has
sacrificed for his sake all that the world holds dear.”
“ I—I cannot believe it. You are mocking me," came
inarticulately from her lips, while she drew back, step by
step, till half the room lay between them.
“Mocking you? Miss Dare, he has shown his feel-
ings so palpably, I have often trembled lest the whole
court should see and understand them."
“ You have trembled "—she could scarcely speak, the
rush of her emotion was so great—“you have trembled
lest the whole court should see he suspected me of this
crime ?"
“ Yes."
“ Then," she cried, “you must have been convinced,—
Ah!” she hurriedly interposed, with a sudden look of


494 HAND AND RING.
distrust, “ you are not amusing yourself with me, are you,
Mr. Orcutt? So many traps have been laid for me from
time to time, I dare not trust the truth of my best friend.
Swear you believe Craik Mansell to have thought this of
me! Swear you have seen this dark thing lying in his
soul, or I ”
“What ? " .
“Will confront him myself with the question, if I have
to tear down the walls of the prison to reach him. His
mind I must and will know."
“Very well,'then, you do. I have told you," declared
Mr. Orcutt. “ Swearing would not make it any more
true."
Lifting her face to heaven, she suddenly fell on her
knees.

“ O God ! ” she murmured, “help me to bear this
great joy ! "
“ 340' .' "
The icy tone, the fierce surprise it expressed, started
her'at once to her feet. .
“ Yes," she murmured, “ joy ! Don't you see that if he
thinks me guilty, he must be innocent? I am willing to
perish and fall from the ranks of good men and honor-
able women to be sure of a fact like this ! "
“Imogene, Imogene, would you drive me mad ?"
She did not seem to hear.
“ Craik, are you guiltless, then ?" she was saying. “ Is
the past all a dream ! Are we two nothing but victims of


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 497
from all surrounding objects, then as suddenly gone out,
leaving the room in total darkness.
In the silence that followed, a quick sound as of rush-
ing feet was heard, then the window was pushed up
and the night air came moaning in. Imogene had fled.
Horace Byrd had not followed Hickory in his rush
toward the house; He had preferred to await results un-
der the great tree which, standing just inside the gate,
cast its mysterious and far.reaching shadow widely over
the wintry lawn. He was, therefore, alone during most
of the interview which Miss Dare held with Mr. Orcutt in
the library, and, being alone, felt himself a prey to his
sensations and the weirdness of the situation in which he
found himself. D
Though no longer a victim to the passion with which
Miss Dare had at first inspired him, he was by no means
without feeling for this grand if somewhat misguided wo-
man, and his emotions, as he stood there awaiting the is-
sue of her last desperate attempt to aid the prisoner, were
strong enough to make any solitude welcome, though
this solitude for some reason held an influence which was
any thing but enlivening, if it was not actually depressing,
to one of his ready sensibilities.
The tree under which he had taken his stand was, as I
have intimated, an old one. It had stood there from
time immemorial, and was, as I have heard it since said,
at once the pride of Mr. Orcutt's heart and the chief or-


.'__..---..»-_-40.4
498 HAND AND RING.
Though devoid of foliage at the
time, its vast and symmetrical canopy of interlacing
branches had caught Mr. Byrd's attention from the first
moment of his entrance beneath it, and, preoccupied
nament of his grounds.
as he was, he could not prevent his thoughts from revert-
ing now and then with a curious sensation of awe to
the immensity of those great limbs which branched above
him. His imagination was so powerfully affected at last,
he had a notion of leaving the spot and seeking a
nearer look.out in the belt of evergreens that hid the
crouching form of Hickory; but a spell seemed to
emanate from the huge trunk against which he leaned
that restrained him when he sought to go, and noticing
almost at the same moment that the path which Miss
Dare would have to take in her departure ran directly
under this tree, he yielded to the apathy of the moment
and remained where he was.
Soon after he was visited by Hickory.
' “I can see nothing and hear nothing," was that in-
dividual's hurried salutation. “She and Mr. Orcutt are
evidently still in the library, but I cannot get a clue
to what is going on. I shall keep up my watch, how-
ever, for I want to catch a glimpse of her face as she
And he was of f again before
steps from the window.'
Byrd could reply.
But the next instant he was back, panting and breath-
less.
“ The light is out in the library," he cried ; “ we shall
see her no more to.night." '


. .._..-__-.-....'.-_
500 HAND AND RING.
two detectives, who, however suspicious they had been of
his passion, had never before had the opportunity of see-
ing him under its control, “what have you made of me
with your bewildering graces and indomitable soul ? Be-
fore I knew you, life was a round of honorable duties and
serene pleasures. I lived in my profession, and found

my greatest delight in its exercise. But now
“ What now?" she asked.
“ I seem ”—he said, and the hard, cold selfishness that
underlay all his actions, however generous they may have
been in appearance, was apparent in his words and tones,
—“ I seem to forget every thing, even my standing and
fame as a lawyer, in the one fear that, although lost to
me, you will yet live to give yourself to another.”
.“ If you fear that I shall ever be so weak as to give my-
self to Craik Mansell," was her steady reply, “ you have
only to recall the promise I made you when you under-
took his case."
“Yes," said he, “ but that was when you yourself be-
lieved him guilty."
“I know," she returned; “but if he were not good
enough for me then, I am not good enough for him now.
Do you forget that I am blotted with a stain that can
never be etfaced ? When I stood up in court to.day and
denounced myself as guilty of crime, I signed away all my
chances of future happiness." .
There was a pause ; Mr. Orcutt seemed to be thinking.
From the position occupied by the two detectives his


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 501
shadow could be seen oscillating to and fro on the lawn,
then, amid the hush of night—a deathly hush--undis-
turbed, as Mr. Byrd afterward remarked, by so much as
the cracking of a twig, his voice rose quiet, yet vaguely
sinister, in the words :
“You have conquered. If any man suffers for this
crime it shall not be Craik Mansell, but ’ "
The sentence was never finished. Before the words

could leave his mouth a sudden strange and splitting
sound was heard above their heads, then a terrifying rush
took place, and a great limb lay upon the walk where but
a moment before the beautiful form of Imogene Dare
lifted itself by the side of the eminent lawyer.
When a full sense of the terrible nature of the calamity
which had just occurred swept across the minds of the
benumbed detectives, Mr. Byrd, recalling the words and
attitude of Imogene in face of a similar, if less fatal, ca-
tastrophe at the hut, exclaimed under his breath :
“ It is the vengeance of Heaven! Imogene Dare must
have been more guilty than we believed."
But when,.after a superhuman exertion of strength,
and the assistance of many hands, the limb was at length
raised, it was found that, although both had been pros-
trated by its weight, only one remained stretched and
senseless upon the ground, and that was not Imogene
Dare, but the great lawyer, Mr. Orcutt.


THE SCALES or JUSTICE. 503
hesitating glance and a rapid movement toward the
door.
Mr. Ferris, who, as we know, cherished a strong
feeling of friendship for Mr. Orcutt, stared uneasily at
the departing form of the detective.
“What do you say?” he repeated. “ Miss Dare
there, in Mr. Orcutt's house ?"
The short “Yes," and the celerity with which Mr.
Byrd vanished, gave him the appearance of one anxious
to escape further inquiries.
Astonished, as well as greatly distressed, the District
Attorney made speedy preparations for following him,
and soon was in the street. He found it all alive
with eager citizens, who, notwithstanding the lateness
of the hour, were rushing hither and thither in search
of particulars concerning this sudden calamity ; and upon
reaching the house itself, found it wellnigh surrounded
by an agitated throng of neighbors and friends.
Simply pausing at the gate to cast one glance at the
tree and its fallen limb, he made his way to the front
door. It was immediately opened. Dr. Tredwell, whose
face it was a shock to encounter in this place, stood
before him, and farther back a group of such favored
friends as had been allowed to enter the house. Some-
thing in the look of the coroner, as he silently reached
forth his hand in salutation, added to the mysterious
impression which had been made upon Mr. Ferris by
the manner, if not words, of Mr. Byrd. Feeling that


504 HAND AND RING.
he was losing his self.command, the District Attorney
grasped the hand that was held out to him, and huskily
inquired if Mr. Orcutt was still alive.
The coroner, who had been standing before him with
a troubled brow and lowered eyes, gravely bowed, and
quietly leading the way, ushered him forward to Mr.
Orcutt's bedroom door. There he paused and looked as
if he would like to speak, but hastily changing his mind,
opened the door and motioned the District Attorney in.
As he did so, he cast a meaning and solemn look toward
the bed, then drew back, watching with evident anxiety
what the effect of the scene before him would have upon
this new witness.
A stupefying one it seemed, for Mr. Ferris, pausing in
his approach, looked at the cluster of persons about the
bed, and then drew his hand across his eyes like a man
in a maze. Suddenly he turned upon Dr. Tredwell with
the same strange look he had himself seen in the eyes of
Byrd, and said, almost as if the words were forced from
his lips :
“ This is no new sight to us, doctor; we have been
spectators of a scene like this before."
That was it. As nearly as the alteration in circum-
stances and surroundings would allow, the spectacle
before him was the same as that which he had encoun-
tered months before in a small cottage at the other end of
the town. On the bed a pallid, senseless, but slowly
breathing form, whose features, stamped with the approach


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 505
of death, stared at them with marble.like rigidity from be-
neath the heavy bandages which proclaimed the injury to
be one to the head. At his side the doctor—the same
one who had been called in. to attend Mrs. Clemmens-
wearing, as he did then, a look of sombre anticipation
which Mr. Ferris expected every instant to see culminate
in the solemn gesture which he had used at the widow's
bedside before she spoke. Even the group of women
who clustered about the foot of the couch wore much the
same expression as those who waited for movement on
the part of Mrs. Clemmens; and had it not been for the
sight of Imogene Dare sitting immovable and watchful
on the farther side of the bed, he might almost have
imagined he was transported back to the old scene, and
that all this new horror under which he was laboring was
a dream from which he would speedily be awakened.
But Imogene's face, her look, her air of patient waiting,
were not to 'be mistaken. Attention once really at-
tracted to her, it was not possible for it to wander
elsewhere. Even the face of the dying man and the
countenance of the watchful physician paled in in-
terest before that fixed look which, never wavering,
never altering, studied the marble visage before her, for
the first faint signs of reawakening consciousness. Even
his sister, who, if weak of mind, was most certainly of a
loving disposition, seemed to feel the force of the tie that
bound Imogene to that pillow ; and, though she hovered
nearer and nearer the beloved form as the weariful


506 HAND AND RING.
moments sped by, did not presume to interpose her grief
or her assistance between the burning eye of Imogene
and the immovable form of her stricken brother.
The hush that lay upon the room was unbroken save
by the agitated breaths of all present.
“ Is there no hope ?" whispered Mr. Ferris to Dr.
Tredwell, as, seeing no immediate prospect of change,
they sought for seats at the other side of the room.
“ No ; the wound is strangely like that which Mrs.
Clemmens received. He will rouse, probably, but he will
not live. Our only comfort is that in this case it is not a
murder."
The District Attorney made a gesture in the direction
of Imogene.
“ How came she to be here ? " he asked.
Dr. Tredwell rose and drew him from the room. -
“It needs some explanation," he said; and began to
relate to him how Mr. Orcutt was escorting Miss Dare to
the gate when the bough fell which seemed likely to rob
him of his life. '
Mr. Ferris, through whose mind those old words of the
widow were running in a way that could only be ac-
counted for by the memories which the scene within had
awakened—“ May the vengeance of Heaven light upon
the head of him who has brought me to this pass ! May
the fate that has come upon me be visited upon him,
measure for measure, blow for blow, death for death ! "—
turned with impressive gravity and asked if Miss Dare
had not been hurt.


THE SCALES oF JUSTICE. 507
But Dr. Tredwell shook his head.
“ She is not even bruised," said he.
“ And yet was on his arm ?"
“ Possibly, though I very much doubt it."
“She was standing at his side," uttered the quiet voice
of Mr. Byrd in their ear ; “and disappeared when he did,
under the falling branch. She must have been bruised,
though she says not. I do not think she is in a'condition
to feel her injuries."
“You were present, then," observed Mr. Ferris, with a
meaning glance at the detective.
“I was present," he returned, with a look the District
Attorney did not find it diflicult to understand.
“Is there any thing you ought to tell me ?" Mr. Ferris
inquired, when a moment or so later the coroner had
been drawn away by a friend.
“I do not know," said Byrd. “ Of the conversation
that passed between Miss Dare and Mr. Orcutt, but a
short portion came to our ears. It is her manner, her
actions, that have astonished us, and made us anxious to
have you upon the spot." And he told with what an ex-
pression of fear she had fled from her interview with Mr.
Orcutt in the library, and then gave, as nearly as he
could, an account of what had passed between them be-
fore the falling of the fatal limb. Finally he said :
“ Hickory and I expected to find her lying crushed and
bleeding beneath, but instead of that, no sooner was the
bough lifted than she sprang to her knees, and seeing


508 HAND AND RING.
Mr. Orcutt lying before her insensible, bent over him
with that same expression of breathless awe and expecta-
tion which you see in her now. It looks as if she were
waiting for him to rouse and finish the sentence that was
cut short by this catastrophe." ‘
“ And what was that sentence ?"
“ As near as I can recollect, it was this: ‘ If any man
sufiers for this crime it shall not be Craik Mansell, but
' He did not have time to say whom."
“ My poor friend '! " ejaculated Mr. Ferris, “ cut down
in the exercise of his duties! It is a mysterious provi-
dence—a very mysterious providence ! " And crossing

again to the sick.room, he went sadly in.
He found the aspect unchanged. On the pillow the
same while, immovable face; at the bedside the same
constant and expectant watchers. Imogene especially
seemed scarcely to have made a move in all the time of
his absence. Like a marble image watching over a form
of clay she sat silent, breathless, intent—a sight to draw
all eyes and satisfy none; for her look was not one of
grief, nor of awe, nor of hope, yet it had that within it
which made her presence there seem a matter of right
even to those who did not know the exact character of
the bond which united her to the unhappy sufferer.
Mr. Ferris, who had been only too ready to accept Mr.
Byrd's explanation of her conduct, allowed himself to
gaze at her unhindered.
Overwhelmed, as he was, by the calamity which prom-


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE.
ised to rob the Bar of one of its most distinguished
advocates, and himself of a long.tried friend, he could
not but feel the throb of those deep interests which, in
the estimation of this woman at least, hung upon a word
which those dying lips might utter. And swayed by this
feeling, he unconsciously became a third watcher, though
for what, and in hope of what, he could scarcely have
told, so much was he benumbed by the suddenness of
this great catastrophe, and the extraordinary circum-
stances by which it was surrounded.
And so one o'clock came and passed.
It was not the last time the clock struck before a
change came. The hour of two went by, then that of
three, and still, to the casual eye, all remained the same.
But ere the -stroke of four was heard, Mr. Ferris, who
had relaxed his survey of Imogene to bestow a fuller at-
tention upon his friend, felt an indefinable sensation of
dismay assail him, and rising to his feet, drew a step or
so nearer the bed, and looked at its silent occupant with
the air of a man who would fain shut his eyes to the
meaning of what he sees before him. At the same
moment Mr. Byrd, who had just come in, found himself
attracted by the subtle difference he observed in the ex-
pression of Miss Dare. The expectancy in her look was
gone, and its entire expression was that of awe. Advan-
cing to the side of Mr. Ferris, he glanced down at the
dying lawyer. 'He at once saw what it was that had so
attracted and moved the District Attorney. A change


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. SII
toward the injured man. A look of recognition answered
her from the face upon the pillow, but she did not wait to
meet it, nor pause for the word that evidently trembled
on his momentarily conscious lip. Shutting out with her
form the group of anxious watchers behind her, she threw
all her soul into the regard with which she held him
enchained; then slowly, solemnly, but with unyielding
determination, uttered these words, which no one there
could know were but a repetition of a question made a
few eventful hours ago : “ If Craik Mansell is not the man
who killed Mrs. Clemmens, do you, Mr. Orcutt, tell us
who is!” and, pausing, remained with her gaze fixed
demandingly on that of the lawyer, undeterred by the
smothered exclamations of those who witnessed this
scene and missed its clue or found it only in the supposi-
tion that this last great shock had unsettled her mind.
The panting sufferer just trembling on the verge of life
thrilled all down his once alert and nervous frame, then
searching her face for one sign of relenting, unclosed his
rigid lips and said, with emphasis:
“ Has not Fate spoken ? ”
Instantly Imogene sprang erect, and, amid the stifled
shrieks of the women and the muttered exclamations of
the men, pointed at the recumbent figure before them,
saying :
“You hear ! Tremont Orcutt declares upon his death-
bed that it is the voice of Heaven which has spoken in
this dreadful calamity. You who were present when


512 HAND AND RING.
- .._.a '
Mrs. Clemmens breathed her imprecations on the head of
her murderer, must know what that means."
Mr. Ferris, who of all present, perhaps, possessed the
greatest regard for the lawyer, gave an ejaculation of dis-
may at this, and bounding forward, lifted her away from
the bedside he believed her to have basely desecrated.
“ Madwoman,” he cried, “where will your ravings end?
He will tell no such tale to me."
But when he bent above the lawyer with the question
forced from him by Miss Dare's words, he found him
already lapsed into that strange insensibility which was
every moment showing itself more and more to be the
precursor of death.
The sight seemed to rob Mr. Ferris of his last grain of
self.command. Rising, he confronted the dazed faces of
those about him with a severe look.
“This charge," said he, “is akin to that which Miss
Dare made against herself in the court yesterday morn-
ing. When a woman has become crazed she no longer
knows what she says." .
But Imogene, strong in the belief that the hand of
Heaven had pointed out the culprit for whom they had so
long been searching, shook her head in quiet denial, and
simply saying, “None of you know this man as I do,"
moved quietly aside to a dim corner, where she sat down
in calm expectation of another awakening on the part of
the dying lawyer.
It came soon—came before Mr. Ferris had recovered


THE SCALES oF JUSTICE. 513
himself, or Dr. Tredwell had had a chance to give -any
utterance to the emotions which this scene was calculated
to awaken.
Rousing as the widow had done, but seeming to see no
one, not even the physician who bent close at his side,
Mr. Orcutt lifted his voice again, this time in the old
stentorian tones which he used in court, and clearly,
firmly exclaimed :
“Blood will have blood! ' Then in lower and more
familiar accents, cried: “Ah, Imogene, Imogene, it was
all for you !" And with her name on his lips, the great
lawyer closed his eyes again, and sank for the last time
into a state of insensibility.
Imogene at once rose.
“ I must go," she murmured ; “ my duty in this place is
done." And she attempted to cross the floor.
But the purpose which had sustained her being at an
end, she felt the full weight of her misery, and looking in
the faces about her, and seeing nothing there but repro-
bation, she tottered and would have fallen had not a
certain portly gentleman who stood near by put forth his
arm to sustain her. Accepting the support with gratitude,
but scarcely pausing to note from what source it came,
she turned for an instant to Mr. Ferris. .
“ I realize," said she, “with what surprise you must
have heard the revelation which has just come from Mr.
Orcutt's lips. So unexpected is it that you cannot yet
believe it, but the time will come when, of all the words


SI4 HAND AND RING
I have spoken, these alone will be found worthy your full
credit: that not Craik Mansell, not Gouverneur Hildreth,
not even unhappy Imogene Dare herself, could tell you
so much of the real cause and manner of Mrs. Clemmens'
death as this man who lies stricken here a victim of
Divine justice."
And merely stopping to cast one final look in the di-
rection of the bed, she stumbled from the room. A few
minutes later and'she reached the front door; but only
to fall against the lintel with the moan :
“ My words are true, but who will ever believe them ?"
“Pardon me," exclaimed a bland and fatherly voice
over her shoulder, “I am a man who can believe in any
thing. Put your confidence in me, Miss Dare, and we
will see—we will see."
Startled by her surprise into new life, she gave one
glance at the gentleman who had followed her to the
door. It was the same who had offered her his arm, and
whom she supposed to have remained behind her in Mr.
Orcutt's room. She saw before her a large comfortable-
looking personage of middle age, of no great pretensions
to elegance or culture, but bearing that within his face
which oddly enough baffled her understanding while it
encouraged her trust. This was the more peculiar in
that he was not looking at her, but stood with his eyes
fixed on the fading light of the hall.lamp, which he sur-
veyed with an expression of concern that almost amounted
to pity.
_ ‘ _..-.--. -_--_-_'-.-_',''-


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 515
“ Sir, who are you ? ” she tremblingly asked.
Dropping his eyes from the lamp, he riveted them upon
the veil she held tightly clasped in her right hand.
“If you will allow me the liberty of whispering in your
ear, I will soon tell you," said he.
She bent her weary head downward ; he at once leaned
toward her and murmured a half.dozen words that made
her instantly start erect with new light in her eyes.
“ And you will help me ?" she cried.
“What else am I here for ? " he answered.
And turning toward a quiet figure which she now saw
for the first time standing on the threshold of a small
room near by, he said with the calmness of a master:
“ Hickory, see that no one enters or leaves the sick-
.room till I return." And offering Imogene his arm, he
conducted her into the library, the door of which he
shut to behind them.


516 HAND AND RING.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
MR. GRYCE.
What you have spoke, it may be so, perchance.
This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,
Was once thought honest. —MACBBTH.
AN hour later, as Mr. Ferris was leaving the house in
company with Dr. Tredwell, he felt himself
stopped by a slight touch on his arm. Turning about he
saw Hickory.
“Beg pardon, sirs," said the detective, with a short
bow, “but there 's a gentleman in the library who would
like to see you before you go."
They at once turned to the room indicated. But at
sight of its well.known features—its huge cases of books,’
its large centre.table profusely littered with papers, the
burnt.out grate, the empty arm.chair—they paused, and
it was with difliculty they could recover themselves suffi-
ciently to enter. When they did, their first glance was
toward the gentleman they saw standing in a distant
window, apparently perusing a book.
“Who is it ?" inquired Mr. Ferris of his companion.
“ I cannot imagine," returned the other.
Hearing voices, the gentleman advanced.
“ Ah,” said he, “ allow me to introduce myself. I am
Mr. Gryce, of the New York Detective Service."


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE.
“ Mr. Gryce ! " repeated the District Attorney, in as-
tonishment.
The famous detective bowed. “I have come," said
he, “upon a summons received by me in Utica not six
hours ago. It was sent by a subordinate of mine inter-
ested in the trial now going on before the court. Horace
Byrd is his name. I hope he is well liked here and has
your confidence."
“ Mr. Byrd is well enough liked," rejoined Mr. Ferris,
“but I gave him no orders to send for you. At what
hour was the telegram dated ? "
“ At half.past eleven ; immediately after the accident
to Mr. Orcutt."
“ I see."
“ He probably felt himself inadequate to meet this new
' emergency. He is a young man, and the affair is cer-
tainly a complicated ‘one."
The District Attorney, who had been studying the
countenance of the able detective before him, bowed
courteously.
“ I am not displeased to see you," said he. “If you

have been in the room above
The other gravely bowed.
“You know probably of the outrageous accusation
which has just been made against our best lawyer and
most.esteemed citizen. It is but one of many which this
same woman has made ; and while it is to be regarded as
the ravings of lunacy, still your character and ability may


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 519
“ He does," was the stern reply.
“It behooves us, then," said Mr. Gryce, “to clear his
memory from every doubt by a strict inquiry into his re-
lations with the murdered woman."
“They are known," returned Mr. Ferris, with grim re-
serve. l‘ They were such as any man might hold with
the woman at whose house he finds it convenient to take
his daily dinner. She was to him the provider of a good
meal."
Mr. Gryce's eye travelled slowly toward Mr. Ferris'
shirt stud.
“Gentlemen," said he, “ do you forget that Mr. Orcutt
was on the scene of murder some minutes before the rest
of you arrived ? Let the attention of people once be di-
rected toward him as a suspicious party, and they will be
likely to remember this fact."
Astounded, both men drew back.
“ What do you mean by that remark ?" they asked.
“ I mean,“ said Mr. Gryce, “that Mr. Orcutt's visit to
Mrs. Clemmens' house on the morning of the murder will
be apt to be recalled by persons of a suspicious tendency
as having given him an opportunity to commit the crime."
“ People are not such fools," cried Dr. Tredwell ; while
Mr. Ferris, in’ a tone of mingled incredulity and anger,
exclaimed :
“And do you, a reputable detective, and, as I have
been told, a man of excellent judgment, presume to say
that there could be found any one in this town, or even


§22 HAND AND RING.
.I..\. -_. . _4..."_..,-..q:_.
for injuring this humble woman, even if he were all he
would have to be to first perform such a brutal deed
and then carry out his hypocrisy to the point of using
his skill as a criminal lawyer to defend another man
falsely accused of the crime."
“I beg your pardon, sir," said the detective, “ but I
forget nothing. I only bring to the consideration of this
subject a totally unprejudiced mind and an experience
which has taught me never to omit testing the truth of
a charge because it seems at first blush'false, prepos-
terous, and without visible foundation. If you will re-
call the conversation to which I have just alluded as
having been held on the court.house steps on the morn-
ing Mrs. Clemmens was murdered, you will remember
that it was the intellectual crime that was discussed-
the crime of an intelligent man, safe in the knowledge
that his motive for doing such a deed was a secret to
the world."
“ My God!" exclaimed Mr. Ferris, under his breath,
“the man seems to be in earnest ! "
“ Gentlemen," pursued Mr. Gryce, with more dignity
than he had hitherto seen fit to assume, “it is not my
usual practice to express myself as openly as I have done
hereto.day. In all ordinary cases I consider it expedi-
ent to reserve intact my suspicions and my doubts till I
have completed my discoveries and arranged my argu-
ments so as to bear out with some show of reason what,
ever statement I may feel obliged to make. But the


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 523
extraordinary features of this affair, and the fact that
so many were present at the scene we have just left, have
caused me to change my usual tactics. Though far from
ready to say that Mr. Orcutt's words were those of con-
fession, I still see much reason to doubt his innocence,
and, feeling thus, am quite willing you should know it in
time to prepare for the worst."
“Then you propose making what has occurred here
public ? " asked Mr. Ferris, with emotion.
“Not so," was the detective's ready reply. “On the
- contrary, I was about to suggest that you did something
more than lay a command of silence upon those who
were present." ,
.
The District Attorney, who, as he afterward said, felt
as if he were laboring under some oppressive nightmare,
turned to the coroner and said :
“ Dr. Tredwell, what do you advise me to do? Ter-
rible as this shock has been, and serious as is the duty it
possibly involves, I have never allowed myself to shrink
from doing what was right simply because it afforded
suffering to myself or indignity to my friends. Do you
think I am called upon to pursue this matter ? "
The coroner, troubled, anxious, and nearly as much.
overwhelmed as the District Attorney, did not immedi-
ately reply. Indeed, the situation was one to upset any
man of whatever calibre. Finally he turned to Mr.
Gryce.
“Mr. Gryce," said he, “ we are, as you have observed,


524 HAND AND RING.
__-. .- ....,....
friends of the dying man, and, being so, may miss our
duty in our sympathy. What do you think ought to be
done, in justice to him, the prisoner, and the positions
which we both occupy ?"
“Well, sirs," rejoined Mr. Gryce, “it is not usual,
perhaps, for a man in my position to offer actual advice
to gentlemen in yours; but if you wish to know what
course I should pursue if I were in your places, I should
say: First, require the witnesses still lingering around
the dying man to promise that they will not divulge what
was there said till a week has fully elapsed ; next, adjourn
the case now before the court for the same decent length
of time; and, lastly, trust me and the two men you
have hitherto employed, to find out if there is any thing
in Mr. Orcutt's past history of a nature to make you
tremble if the world hears of the words which escaped
him on his death.bed. We shall probably need but a
week."
“ And Miss Dare ? "
“ Has already promised secrecy."
There was nothing in all this to alarm their fears;
every thing, on the contrary, to allay them.
r The coroner gave a nod of approval to Mr. Ferris, and
both signified their acquiescence in the measures pro-
posed.
Mr. Gryce at once assumed his usual genial air.
“You may trust me," said he, “to exercise all the
discretion you would yourselves show under the circum-


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 525
stances. I have no wish to see the name of such a man
blasted by an ineffaceable stain." And he bowed as if
about to leave the room.
But Mr. Ferris, who had observed this movement with
an air of some uneasiness, suddenly stepped forward and
stopped him.
“I wish to ask," said he, “whether superstition has
had any thing to do with this readiness on your part to
impute the worst meaning to the chance phrases which
have fallen from the lips of our severely injured friend.
Because his end seems in some regards to mirror that of
the widow, have you allowed a remembrance of the
words she made use of in the face of death to influence
your good judgment as to the identity of Mr. Orcutt with
her assassin ? ”
The face of Mr. Gryce assumed its grimmest aspect.
“ Do you think this catastrophe was necessary to draw
. my attention to Mr. Orcutt ? To a man acquainted with
the extraordinary coincidence that marked the discovery
of Mrs. Clemmens' murder, the mystery must be that Mr.
Orcutt has gone unsuspected for so long."
ing an argumentative air, he asked :
And assum-
“ Were either of you two gentlemen present at the con-
versation I have mentioned as taking place on the court-
house steps the morning Mrs. Clemmens was murdered ?"
“ I was," said the District Attorney.
“You remember, then, the hunchback who was so free
with his views ?"


526 HAND AND RING.
_,--..__ ’_..e__-,a.nn
“ Most certainly."
“ And know, perhaps, who that hunchback was ?”
ll Yes."
“You will not be surprised, then, if I recall to you the -
special incidents of that hour. A group of lawyers,
among them Mr. Orcutt, are amusing thumselves with an
off.hand chat concerning criminals and the clumsy way
in which, as a rule, they plan and execute their crimes. All
seem to agree that a murder is usually followed by detec-
tion, when suddenly a stranger speaks and tells them that
the true way to make a success of the crime is to choose a
thoroughfare for the scene of tragedy, and employ a
weapon that has been picked up on the spot. What hap-
pens ? Within five minutes after this piece of gratui-
tous information, or as soon as Mr. Orcutt can cross the
street, Mrs. Clemmens is found lying in her blood, struck
down by a stick of wood picked up from her own hearth-
stone. Is this chance ? If so, 't is a very curious one." '
“ I don't deny it," said Doctor Tredwell.
“I believe you never did deny it," quickly retorted the
detective. “ Am I not right in saying that it struck you
so forcibly at the time as to lead you into supposing some
collusion between the hunchback and the murderer ?"
“It certainly did," admitted the coroner.
“Very well," proceeded Mr. Gryce. “Now as there
could have been no collusion between these parties, the
hunchback being no other person than myself, what are
we to think of this murder ? That it was a coincidence,
or an actual result of the hunchback's words ?"


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE 527
Dr. Tredwell and Mr. Ferris were both silent.
“ Sirs," continued Mr. Gryce, feeling, perhaps, that
perfect openness was necessary in order to win entire con-
fidence, “ I am not given to boasting or to a I00.fl'€( ex-
pression of my opinion, but if I had been ignorant of this
affair, and one of my men had come to me and said : ‘ A
mysterious murder has just taken place, marked by this
extraordinary feature, that it is a precise reproduction of
a supposable case of crime which has just been discussed
by agroup of indifferent persons in the public street,' and
then had asked me where to look for the assassin, I
should have said: ‘Search for that man who heard the
discussion through, was among the first to leave the
group, and was the first to show himself upon the scene
of murder.' To be sure, when Byrd did come to me
with this story, I was silent, for the man who fulfilleizl
these conditions was Mr. Orcutt."
“Then," said Mr. Ferris, “ you mean to say that you
would have suspected Mr. Orcutt of this crime long ago
if he had not been a man of such position and emi-
nence ? ”
“ Undoubtedly," was Mr. Gryce's reply.
If the expression was unequivocal, his air was still more
so. Shocked and disturbed, both gentlemen fell back.
The detective at once advanced and opened the door.
It was time. Mr. Byrd had been tapping upon it for
some minutes, and now hastily came in. His face told
the nature of his errand before he spoke.


528 HAND AND RING.
“I am sorry to be obliged to inform you?" he
began.
“ Mr. Orcutt is dead ?" quickly interposed Mr. Ferris.
The young detective solemnly bowed.
.


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 529
CHAPTER XL.
IN THE PRISON.
The jury passing on,.the prisoner's life,
May in the sworn twelve have a thief or two
Guiltier than him they try.
-—MsAsuRrI F0R MI~IAsuRI:.
Such welcome and unwelcome things at once
'T is hard to reconcile. —MAcBE1"rI.
M R. MANSELL sat in his cell, the prey of gloomy
and perturbed thought. He knew Mr. Orcutt
was dead ; he had been told of it early in the morningby
his jailer, but of the circumstances which attended that
death he knew nothing, save that the lawyer had been
struck by a limb falling from a tree in his own garden.
The few moments. during which the court had met for
the purpose of re.adjournment had added but little to his
enlightenment. A marked reserve had characterized the
whole proceedings; and though an indefinable instinct had
told him that in some mysterious way his cause had been
helped rather than injured by this calamity to his counsel,
he found no one ready to volunteer those explanations
which his great interest in the matter certainly demanded.
The hour, therefore, which he spent in solitude upon his
return to prison was one of great anxiety, and it was quite a
welcome relief when the cell door opened and the keeper
usheredin astrangegentleman. Supposingit to be the new


-_ .._--._.-1-Q.
530 HAND AND RING.
counsel he had chosen at haphazard from a list of names that
had been offered him, Mr. Mansell rose. But a second
glance assured him he had made a mistake in supposing
this person to be a lawyer, and stepping back he awaited
his approach with mingled curiosity and reserve.
The stranger, who seemed to be perfectly at home in
the narrow quarters in which he found himself, advanced
with a frank air.
“ My name is Gryce," said he, “and I am a detective.
The District Attorney, who, as you know, has been placed
in a very embarrassing situation by the events of the last
two days, has accepted my services in connection with
those of the two men already employed by him, in the
hope that my greater experience may assist him in deter-
mining which, of all the persons who have been accused,
or who have accused themselves, of murdering Mrs. Clem-
mens, is the actual perpetrator of that deed. Do you require
any further assurance of my being in the confidence of Mr.
Ferris than the fact that I am here, and in full liberty to
talk with you ?"
“ No," returned the other, after a short but close study
of his visitor.
“ Very well, then," continued the detective, with a com-
fortable air of ease, “ I will speak to the point ; and the
first thing I will say is, that upon looking at the evidence
against you, and hearing what I have heard from various
sources since I came to town, I know you are not the man
who killed Mrs. Clemmens. To be sure, you have de-


THE SCALES oF JUSTICE. 531
clined to explain certain points, but I think you can ex-
1!
plain them, and if you will only inform me
“ Pardon me," interrupted Mr. Mansell, gravely ; “but
you say you are a detective. Now, I have no informa-
tion to give a detective."
“ Are you sure ? " was the imperturbable query.
“ Quite," was the quick reply.
“ You are then determined upon going to the scaffold,
whether or no ?” remarked Mr. Gryce, somewhat grimly.
“ Yes, if to escape it I must confide in a detective."
“ Then you do wrong," declared the other ; “ as I will
immediately proceed to show you. Mr. Mansell, you
are, of course, aware of the manner of Mr. Orcutt's
death ? ”
“ I know he was struck by a falling limb."
“ Do you know what he was doing when this oc-
curred ?”
“ No."
“He was escorting Miss Dare down to the gate."
The prisoner, whose countenance had brightened at the
mention of his lawyer, turned a deadly white at this.
“And—and was Miss Dare hurt ?” he asked.
The detective shook his head.
“Then why do you tell me this ? ”
“Because it has much to do with the occasion of my
coming here, Mr. Mansell," proceeded Mr. Gryce, in
that tone of completely understanding himself which he
knew so well how to assume with men of the prisoner's


534 HAND AND RING.
the close study with which he was honoring the man
before him, nodded with grave decision.
“You could add very much to our convictions on this
point," he observed, “ by telling what it was you saw or
heard in Mrs. Clemmens' house at the moment you fled
from it so abruptly."
“How do you know I fled from it abruptly ? ”
“ You were seen. The fact has not appeared in court,
but a witness we might name perceived you flying from
your aunt's door to the swamp as if your life depended
upon the speed you made."
“And with that fact added to all the rest you have
against me, you say you believe me innocent?" ex-
claimed Mr. Mansell.
“ Yes ; for I have also said I believe Mrs. Clemmens
not to have been assaulted till after the hour of noon.
You fled from the door at precisely five minutes be-
fore it."
The uneasiness of Mr. Mansell's face increased, till it
amounted to agitation. .
“And may I ask," said he, “what has happened to
make you believe she was not struck at the moment
hitherto supposed ?"
“Ah, now," replied the detective, “ we come down to
facts.
prisoner, he quietly said: “Your counsel has died, for
And leaning with a confidential air toward the
one thing."
Astonished as much by the tone as the tenor of these


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 535
words, Mr. Mansell drew back from his visitor in some
distrust. Seeing it, Mr. Gryce edged still farther for-
ward, and calmly continued :
“ If no one has told you the particulars of Mr. Orcutt's
death, you probably do not know why Miss Dare was at
his house last evening ? "
The look of the prisoner was sufiicient reply.
“ She went there," resumed Mr. Gryce, with com-
posure, “ to tell him that her whole evidence against you
had been given under the belief that you were guilty of
the crime with which you had been charged; that by a
trick of my fellow.detectives, Hickory and Byrd, she had
been deceived into thinking you had actually admitted
your guilt to her ; and that she had only been undeceived
after she had uttered the perjury with which she sought
to save you yesterday morning."
“Perjury?” escaped involuntarily from Craik Man-
sell's lips.
“ Yes," repeated the detective, “perjury. Miss Dare
lied when she said she had been to Mrs. Clemmens' cot-
tage on the morning of the murder. She was not there,
nor did she lift her hand against the widow's life. That
tale she told to escape telling another which she thought
would insure your doom."
“You have been talking to Miss Dare?” suggested
the prisoner, with subdued sarcasm.
“I have been talking to my two men," was the un-
moved retort, “to Hickory and to Byrd,’ and they not


-.’-' .-..--.p-.-
536 HAND AND RING.
only confirm this statement of hers in regard to the
deception they played upon her, but say enough to show
she could not have been guilty of the crime, because at
that time she honestly believed you to be so."
“I do not understand you," cried the prisoner, in a
voice that, despite his marked self.control, showed the
presence of genuine emotion.
Mr. Gryce at once went into particulars. He was anx-
ious to have Craik Mansell's mind disabused of the notion
that Imogene had committed this crime, since upon
that notion he believed his unfortunate reticence to rest.
He therefore gave him a full relation of the scene in the
hut, together with all its consequences.
Mr. Mansell listened like a man in a dream. Some
fact in the past evidently made this story incredible to
him. ‘
Seeing it, Mr. Gryce did not wait to hear his comments,
but upon finishing his account, exclaimed, with a confi-
dent air :
“Such testimony is conclusive. It is impossible to
consider Miss Dare guilty, after an insight of this kind
into the real state of her mind. Even she has seen the
uselessness of persisting in her self.accusation, and, as I
have already told you, went to Mr. Orcutt's house in
order to explain to him her past conduct, and ask his
advice for the future. She learned something else before
her interview with Mr. Orcutt ended," continued the de-
tective, impressively. “She learned that she had not


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. . 537'
only been mistaken in supposing you had admitted your
guilt, but that you could not have been guilty, because
you had always believed her to be so. It has been a
-mutual case of suspicion, you see, and argues innocence
’ on the part of you both. Or so it seems to the prosecu-
tion. How does it seem to you?"
“Would it help my cause to say ? ”
“It would help your cause to tell what sent you so
abruptly from Mrs. Clemmens' house the morning she
was murdered."
“ I do not see how," returned the prisoner.
The glance of Mr. Gryce settled confidentially on his
right hand where it lay outspread upon his ample knee.
“ Mr. Mansell," he inquired, “have you no curiosity to
know any details of the. accident by which you have un. '
expectedly been deprived of a counsel ? "
Evidently surprised at this sudden change of subject,
Craik replied :
“ If I had not hoped you would understand my anxiety -
and presently relieve it, I could not have shown you as
much patience as I have."
“ Very well," rejoined Mr. Gryce, altering his manner
with a suddenness that evidently alarmed his listener.
" Mr. Orcutt did not die immediately after he was struck
down. He lived some hours; lived to say some words
that have materially changed the suspicions of persons
interested in the case he was defending."
“ Mr. Orcutt ? "


-. __.w..-.'._4-:1-1
54o HAND AND RING.
“ Did Mr. Orcutt say that ?”
“ He did."
“Very well, a man whose whole mind has for some
time been engrossed with defending another man accused
of murder, might say any thing while in a state of
delirium."
Mr. Gryce uttered his favorite “Humph!" and gave
his leg another pat, but added, gravely enough: “Miss
Dare believes his words to be those of confession."
“You say Miss Dare once believed me to have con-
fessed."
“ But," persisted the detective, “Miss Dare is not
alone in her opinion. Men in whose judgment you must
rely, find it difficult to explain the words of Mr. Orcutt
by means of any other theory than that he is himself the
perpetrator of that crime for which you are yourself
being tried."
“I find it diflicult to believe that possible," quietly
returned the prisoner. “What !” he suddenly exclaimed ;
“suspect a man of Mr. Orcutt's abilities and standingof
a hideous crime—the very crime, too, with which his
client is charged, and in defence of whom he has brought
all his skill to bear! The idea is preposterous, unheard
of ! "
“I acknowledge that," dryly assented Mr. Gryce;
“but it has been my experience to find that it is the
preposterous things which happen."
For a minute the prisoner stared at the speaker in-
credulously; then he cried : '


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 541
“ You really appear to be in earnest."
“ I was never more so in my life," was Mr. Gryce's
rejoinder. .
Drawing back, Craik Mansell looked at the detective
with an emotion that had almost the character of hope.
Presently he said :
“If you do distrust Mr. Orcutt, you must have weigh-
tier reasons for it than any you have given me. What are
they ? You must be willing I should know, or you would
not have gone as far with me as you have."
“ You are right," Gryce assured him. “ A case so com-
plicated as this calls for unusual measures. Mr. Ferris,
feeling the.gravity of his.position, allows me to take you
into our confidence, in the hope that you will be able to
help us out of our difliculty."
“ I help you ! You 'd better release me first."
“ That will come in time."
“If I help you?”
“ Whether you help or not, if ’we can satisfy ourselves
and the world that Mr. Orcutt's words were a confession.
You may hasten that conviction."
“ How ? "
“By clearing up the mystery of your flight from Mrs.
Clemmens' house."
The keen eyes of the prisoner fell ; all his old distrust
seemed on the point of returning.
“ That would not help you at al!," said he.
“I should like to be the judge,” said Mr. Gryce.


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 543
“ You could give us information, then, that would affect
Miss Dare?" was the quick retort. “ Now, I say," the
astute detective declared, as the prisoner gave an almost
imperceptible start, “that whatever your information is,
Miss Dare is not guilty." '
“You say it I” exclaimed the prisoner. “What does
your opinion amount to if you have n't heard the evidence
against her ?"
“ There is no evidence against her but what is purely
circumstantial."
“ How do you know that ? ”
“ Because she is innocent. Circumstantial evidence may
exist alike against the innocent and the guilty ; real evi-
dence only against the guilty. I mean to say that as I
am firmly convinced Miss Dare once regarded you as
guilty of this crime, I must be equally convinced she
did n't commit it herself. This is unanswerable."
“ You have stated. that before."
“I know it ; but I want you to see the force of it ; be-
cause, once convinced with me that Miss Dare is innocent,
you will be willing to tell all you know, even what appa-
rently implicates her." ’
Silence answered this remark.
“ You did n't see her strike the blow ? ”
Mansell roused indignantly.
“ No, of course not ! " he cried.
“ You did not see her with your aunt that moment you
fled from the house immediately before the murder ! "


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 545
the dining.room door. I did not go into the house at all
that morning, as I believe I have already told Mr.
Ferris."
“ Very good! It will all be simpler than I thought.
You came up to the house and went away again without
coming in ; ran away, I may say, taking the direction of '
the swamp."
The prisoner did not deny it.
“ You remember all the incidents of that short flight ?"
The prisoner's lip curled.
“Remember leaping the fence and stumbling a trifle
when you came down ?"
“ Yes."
“Very well ; now tell me how could Miss Dare see you
do that from Mrs. Clemmens' house ?”
“ Did Miss Dare tell you she saw me trip after I
jumped the fence ?"
“ She did."
“And yet was in Professor Darling's observatory, a
mile or so away ? "
“ Yes."
A satirical laugh broke from the prisoner.
“I think," said he, “that instead of my telling you
how she could have seen this from Mrs. Clemmens' house,
you should tell me how she could have seen it from Pro-
fessor Darling's observatory."
“That is easy enough. She was looking through a
telescope."


.-u -.,.-.-.-r»..
546 HAND AND RING.
“ What ?"
“At the moment you were turning from Mrs. Clem-
mens' door, Miss Dare, perched in the top of Professor
Darling's house, was looking in that very direction
through a telescope."
“I—I would like to believe that story," said the
prisoner, with suppressed emotion. “It would "
“What ?” urged the detective, calmly.
“Make a new man of me," finished Mansell, with a

momentary burst of feeling.
“ Well, then, call up your memories of the way your
aunt's house is situated. Recall the hour, and acknowl-
edge that, if Miss Dare was with her, she must have been
in the dining.room."
“ There is no doubt about that."
“Now, how many windows has the dining.room ?"
“ One."
“ How situated ? ”
“ It is on the same side as the door.”
“ There is none, then, which looks down to that place
where you leaped the fence ?"
“ No."
“ How account for her seeing that little incident, then,
of your stumbling?"
“ She might have come to the door, stepped out, and
so seen me."
“ Humph !
thing."
I see you have an answer for every


54g HAND AND RING.
'
had your pants turned up at the ankles, and carried your
coat on your left arm."
“ Left arm ? ”
“ Yes."
“ I think I had it on my right."
“It was on the arm toward her, she declares. If she
was in the observatory, it was your left side that she
saw.
“Yes, yes; but the coat was over the other arm. I
remember using my left hand in vaulting over the fence
when I came up to the house."
“ It is a vital point," said Mr. Gryce, with a quietness
that concealed his real anxiety and chagrin. “ If the
coat was on the arm taward her, the fact of its being on
the right ”

“ Wait!" exclaimed Mr. Mansell, with an air of sud-
den relief. “ I recollect now that I changed it from one
arm to the other after I vaulted the fence. It was just at
the moment I turned to come back to the side door, and,
as she does not pretend to have seen me till after I left
the door, of course the coat was, as she says, on my left
arm."
“ I thought you could explain it," returned Mr. Gryce,
with an air of easy confidence. “ But what do you mean
when you say that you changed it at the moment you
turned to come back to the side door? Did n't you go
at once to the dining.room door from the swamp ?”
“ No. I had gone to the front door on my former


,» -....-.-...'.'.
5 50 HAND AND RING.
“ Then you will tell me what you heard ? ”
“ Yes ; for in it may lie the key to this mystery, though
how, I cannot see, and doubt if you can. I am all the
more ready to do it," he pursued, “ because I can now
understand how she came to think me guilty, and, think-
ing so, conducted herself as she has done from the be-
ginning of my trial. All but the fact of her denouncing
herself yesterday; that I cannot comprehend."
“Awoman in love can do any thing," quoth Mr. Gryce.
Then admonished by the flush of the prisoner's cheek
that he was treading on dangerous ground, he quickly
added : “ But she will explain all that herself some day.
Let us hear what you have to tell me."
Craik Mansell drooped his head and his brow became
gloomy.
“ Sir," said he, “it is unnecessary for me to state that
your surmise in regard to my past convictions is true. If
Miss Dare was not with my aunt just before the murder,
I certainly had reasons for thinking she was. To be sure,
I did not see her or hear her voice, but I heard my aunt
address her distinctly and by name."
“ You did?" Mr. Gryce's interest in the tattoo he
was playing on his knee became intense.
“Yes. It was just as I pushed the door ajar. The
words were these: ‘You think you are going to marry
him, Imogene Dare; but I tell you you never shall, not
while 1 live.' "
“ Humph ! " broke involuntarily from the detective's


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 5 51
lips, and, though his face betrayed nothing of the shock
this communication occasioned him, his fingers stopped
an instant in their restless play.
Mr. Mansell saw itand cast him an anxious look. The
detective instantly smiled with great unconcern. “G0
on," said he, “what else did you hear?"
“Nothing else. In the mood in which I was this very
plain intimation that Miss Dare had sought my aunt, had
pleaded with her for me and failed, struck me as sulfi-
cient. I did not wait to hear more, but hurried away in
a state of passion that was little short of frenzy. To
leave the place and return to my work was now my one
wish. When I found, then, that by running I might
catch the train at Monteith, I ran, and so unconsciously
laid myself open to suspicion.”
“I see," murmured the detective ; “ I see."
“ Not that I suspected any evil then," pursued Mr.
Mansell, earnestly. “I was only conscious of disappoint-
ment and a desire to escape from my own thoughts. It

was not till next day
“ Yes—yes," interrupted Mr. Gryce," abstractedly,
“but your aunt's words ! She said : ‘ You think you are
going to marry him, Imogene Dare ; but you never shall,
not while I live.' Yet Imogene Dare was not there. Let
us solve that problem."
“ You think you can ? ”
“ I think I must."
“ How? how ? "


552 HAND AND RING.
.-.¢_ ' _..als_1"--r
The detective did not answer. He was buried in pro-
found thought. Suddenly he exclaimed :
“ It is, as you say, the key.note to the tragedy. It must
be solved.” But the glance he dived deep into space
seemed to echo that “ How? how ?” of the prisoner, with
a gloomy persistence that promised little sor an immedi-
ate answer to the enigma before them. It occurred to
Mansell to offer a suggestion.
“There is but one way 1 can explain it," said he.
“My aunt was speaking to herself. She was deaf and
lived alone. Such people often indulge in soliloquizing."
The slap which Mr. Gryce gave his thigh must have
made it tingle for a good half.hour.
“ There," he cried, “ who says extraordinary measures
are not useful at times? You 've hit the very explana-
tion. Of course she was speaking to herself. She was
just the woman to do it. Imogene Dare was in her
thoughts, so she addressed Imogene Dare. If you had
opened the door you would have seen her standing there
alone, venting her thoughts into empty space." ww-
“ I wish I had," said the prisoner.
Mr. Gryce became exceedingly animated. “Well,
that 's settled," said he. “ Imogene Dare was not there,
save in Mrs. Clemmens' imagination. And now for the
conclusion. She said : ‘ You think you are going to
marry him, Imogene Dare ; but you never shall, not while
I live.' That shows her mind was running on you."
“ It shows more than that. It shows that, if Miss Dare


-..-...,.,.
556 HAND AND RING.
thousands in the bank, boasting of her power to separate
her nephew from the lady of his choice, there was every
thing that was significant in her using the same language
in regard to Miss Dare and Mr. Orcutt. Nothing but
the existence of some unsuspected bond between herself
and the great lawyer could have accounted, first, for her
feeling on the subject of his marriage ; and, secondly, for
the threat of interference contained in her very emphatic
words,—a bond which, while evidently not that of love,
was still of a nature to give her control over his destiny,
and make her, in spite of her lonely condition, the selfish
and determined arbitrator of his fate.
What was that bond ? A secret shared between them?
The knowledge on her part of some fact in Mr. Orcutt's
past life, which, if revealed, might serve as an impediment
to his marriage ? In consideration that the great mystery
to be solved was what motive Mr. Orcutt could have had
for killing this woman, an answer to this question was
manifestly of the first importance.
But before proceeding to take any measures to insure '
one, Mr. Gryce sat down and seriously asked himself
whether there was any known fact, circumstantial or
otherwise, which refused to fit into the theory that
Mr. Orcutt actually committed this crime with his own
hand, and at the time he was seen to cross the street and
enter Mrs. Clemmens' house. For, whereas the most
complete chain of circumstantial evidence does not
necessarily prove the suspected party to be guilty of a


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 557
crime, the least break in it is fatal to his conviction.
And Mr. Gryce wished to be as fair to the memory
of Mr. Orcutt as he would have been to the living
man. . ‘
Beginning, therefore, with the earliest incidents of the
fatal day, he called up, first, the letter which the widow
had commenced but never lived to finish. It was a sug-
gestive epistle. It was addressed to her most intimate
friend, and showed in the. few lines written a certain fore-
boding or apprehension of death remarkable under the
circumstances. Mr. Gryce recalled one of its expres-
sions. “There are so many," wrote she, “ to whom my
death would be more than welcome.' So many I Many
is a strong word ; many means more than one, more than
two; many means three at least. Now where were the
three ? Hildreth, of course, was one, Mansell might
very properly be another, but who was the third? To
Mr. Gryce, but one name suggested itself in reply. So
far, then, his theory stood firm. Now what was the next
fact known? The milkman stopped with his milk; that
was at half.past eleven. He had to wait a few minutes,
from which it was concluded she was upstairs when he
rapped. Was it at this time she was interrupted in her
letter.writing? If so, she probably did not go back to it,
for when Mr. Hildreth called, some fifteen minutes later,
she was on the spot to open the door. Their interview
was short; it was also stormy. Medicine was the last
thing she stood in need of; besides, her mind was evi-


558 HAND AND RING.
dently preoccupied. Showing him the door, she goes
back to her work, and, being deaf, does not notice that
he does not leave the house as she expected. Conse-
quently her thoughts go on unhindered, and, her condi-
tion being one of anger, she mutters aloud and bitterly to
herself as she flits from dining.room to kitchen in her
labor of serving up her dinner. The words she made use
of have been overheard, and here another point appears.
For, whereas her temper must have been disturbed by
. the demand which had been made upon her the day
before by her favorite relative and heir, her expressions
of wrath at this moment were not levelled against him,
but against a young lady who is said to have been a
stranger to her, her language being : “You think you are
going to marry him, Imogene Dare; but I tell you you
I
never shall, not while I live.' Her chief grievance, then,
and the one thing uppermost in her thoughts, even at a
time when she felt that there were many who desired her
death, lay in this fact that a young and beautiful woman
had manifested, as she supposed, a wish to marry -Mr.
Orcutt, the word him which she had used, necessarily re-
ferring to the lawyer, as she knew nothing of Imogene's
passion for her nephew.
But this is not the only point into which it is necessary
to inquire. For to believe Mr. Orcutt guilty of this
crime one most also believe that all the other persons
who had been accused of it were truthful in the explana-
tions which they gave of the events which had seemingly


560 HAND AND RING.
.. , . _.»»p-.''1.,
tramp, skulking round some other back door, does not
see him; Imogene, with her eye on Craik Mansell, now
vanishing into the woods, does not see him ; nobody sees
him. He goes, and the widow for a short interval is as
much alone as she believed herself to be a minute or two
before when three men stood, unseen by each other, at
each of the three doors of her house. What does she do
now ?
Why, she finishes preparing her dinner, and then,
observing that the clock is slow, proceeds to set it right.
Fatal task! Before she has had an opportunity to finish
it, the frontdoor has opened again, Mr. Orcutt has come
in, and, tempted perhaps by her defenceless position,
catches up a stick of wood from the fireplace and, with
one blow, strikes her down at his feet, and rushes forth
again with tidings of her death.
Now, is there any thing in all t/zis that is contradictory?
No; there is only something left out. In the whole of
this description of what went on in the widow's house,
there has been no mention made of the ring—the ring
which it is conceded was either in Craik Mansell's or
Imogene Dare's possession the evening before the murder,
and which was found on the dining.room floor within ten
minutes after the assault took place. If Mrs. Clemmens'
exclamations are to be taken as an attempt to describe.
her murderer, then this ring must have been on the hand
which was raised against her, and how could that have
been if the hand was that of Mr. Orcutt ? Unimportant


562 HAND AND RING.
Mr. Orcutt, since he was the next person who went into
the house.
But did it fall there ? Mr. Gryce took the only avail-
able means to find out.
Sending for Horace Byrd, he said to him :
“You were on the court.house steps when Mr. Orcutt
left and crossed over to the widow's house ?"
“ Yes, sir."
“Were you watching him? Could you describe his
manner as he entered the house; how he opened the
gate; or whether he stopped to look about him before
going in ? " '
“ No, sir," returned Byrd ; “ my eyes may have been on
him, but I don't remember any thing especial that he did."
Somewhat disappointed, Mr. Gryce went to the Dis-
trict Attorney and put to him the same question. The
answer he received from him was different. With a
gloomy contraction of his brow, Mr. Ferris said :
“Yes, I remember his look and appearance very well.
He stepped briskly, as he always did, and carried
his head Wait ! " he suddenly exclaimed, giving the
detective a look in which excitement and decision were
strangely blended. “You think Mr. Orcutt committed
this crime; that he left us standing on the court.house

steps and crossed the street to Mrs. Clemmens' house
with the deliberate intention of killing her, and leaving
the burden of his guilt to be shouldered by the tramp.
Now, you have called up a memory to me that convinces


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 563
me this could not have been.' Had he had-any such in-
fernal design in his breast he would not have been likely
to have stopped as he did to pick up something which he
saw lying on the walk in front of Mrs. Clemmens' house."
“And did Mr. Orcutt do that ?" inquired Mr. Gryce,
with admirable self.control.
“ Yes, I remember it now distinctly. It was just as he
entered the gate. A man meditating a murder of this
sort would not be likely to notice a pin lying in his path,
much less pause to pick it up."
“ How if it were a diamond ring ?"
“ A diamond ring ? "
“ Mr. Ferris," said the detective, gravely, “you have
just supplied a very important link in the chain of evi-
dence against Mr. Orcutt. The question is, how could
the diamond ring which Miss Dare is believed to have
dropped into Mr. Mansell's coat.pocket have been carried
into Mrs. Clemmens' house without the agency of either
herself or Mr. Mansell? I think you have just shown."
And the able detective, in a few brief sentences, explained
the situation to Mr. Ferris, together with the circum-
stances of Mansell's flight, as gleaned by him in his con-
versation with the prisoner.
The District Attorney was sincerely dismayed. The
guilt of the renowned lawyer was certainly assuming pos-
itive proportions. Yet, true to his friendship for Mr. Or-
cutt, he made one final elIort to controvert the arguments
of the detective, and quietly said:


566 HAND AND RING.
“The same reasoning will apply to what followed,"
continued Mr. Gryce. “You cannot reconcile the
thought of his guilt with his taking the case of Mansell
and doing all he could to secure his acquittal. But you
will find it easier to do so when I tell you that, without
taking into consideration any spark of sympathy which he
might feel for the man falsely accused of his crime, he
. knew from Imogene's lips that she would not survive the
condemnation of her lover, and that, besides this, his
only hope of winning her for his wife lay in the gratitude
he might awaken in her if he succeeded in saving his
rival."
“You are making him out a great villain," murmured
Mr. Ferris, bitterly.
“And was not that the language of his own counte-
nance as he lay dying ? " inquired the detective. -
Mr. Ferris could not say No. He had himself been
too deeply impressed by the sinister look he had observed
on the face of his dying friend. He therefore confined
himself to remarking, not without sarcasm : .
“ And now for the motive of this hideous crime—for I
suppose your ingenuity has discovered one before this."
“ It will be found in his love for Miss Dare," returned
the detective; “but just how I am not prepared to.day
to say."
“ His love for Miss Dare? What had this plain and
homespun Mrs. Clemmens to do with his love for
Miss Dare?”


' THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. ’ 567
“ She was an interference."
“ How ? "
“ Ah, that, sir, is the question."
“ So then you do not know ? "
Mr. Gryce was obliged to shake his head.
The District Attorney drew himself up. “ Mr. Gryce,”
said he, “the charge which has been made against this
eminent man demands the very strongest proof in order
to substantiate it. The motive, especially, must be shown
to have been such as to offer a complete excuse for sus-
pecting him. No trivial or imaginary reason for his
wishing this woman out of the world will answer in his case.
You must prove that her death was absolutely necessary to
the success of his dearest hopes, or your reasoning will
only awaken distrust in the minds of all who hear it.
The fame of a man like Mr. Orcutt is not to be destroyed
by a passing word of delirium, or a specious display of
circumstantial evidence such as you evolve from the pres-
ence of the ring on the scene of murder."
“I know it," allowed Mr. Gryce, “and that is why I
have asked for a week."
“ Then you still believe you can find such a motive ? "
The smile which Mr. Gryce bestowed upon the favored
object then honored by his gaze haunted the District At-
torney for the rest of the week.


568 HAND AND RING. '
XLII.
CONSULTATIONS.
That he should die is worthy policy ;
But yet we want a color for his death;
'T is meet he be condemned by course of law.
—HENRY VI.
R. GRYCE was perfectly aware that the task
M before him was a diflicult one. To be himself
convinced that Mr. Orcutt had been in possession of a
motive suflicient to account for, if not excuse, this horri-
ble crime was one thing; to find out that motive and
make it apparent to the world was another. But he was
not discouraged. Summoning his two subordinates, he
laid the matter before them. ‘
“ I am convinced," said he, “that Mrs. Clemmens was
a more important person to Mr. Orcutt than her plain ap-
pearance and humble manner of life would suggest. Do
either of you know whether Mr. Orcutt's name has ever
been associated with any private scandal, the knowledge
of which might have given her power over him ? "
“I do not think he was that kind of a man," said
Byrd. “ Since morning I have put myself in the way of
such persons as I saw disposed to converse about him,
and though I have been astonished to find how many
there are who say they never quite liked or altogether


572 HAND AND RING.
-ceeded to the house of Mr. Orcutt, where he entered
upon an examination of such papers and documents as
were open to his inspection, in the hope of discovering
some allusion to the deceased lawyer's early history.
But he was not successful. Neither did a like inspection
of the widow's letters bring any new facts to light. The
only result which seemed to follow these efforts was an
increased certainty on his part that some dangerous secret
lurked in a past that was so determinedly hidden from
the world, and resorting to the only expedient now left to
him, he resolved to consult Miss Firman, as being the
only person who professed to have had any acquaintance
with Mrs. Clemmens before she came to Sibley. To be
sure, she had already been questioned by the coroner,
but Mr. Gryce was a man who had always found that the
dryest well could be made to yield a drop or two more of
water if the bucket was dropped by a dexterous hand.
He accordingly prepared himself for a trip to Utica.


5 74 HAND AND RING.
The respectful ,smile and peculiar intonation with
which these last words were uttered, robbed them of
their familiarity and allowed Miss Firman to perceive his
true character.
“You are a detective," said she, and as he did not
deny it, she went on: “You say I must be anxious to
know who my cousin's murderer was. Has Craik Man-
sell, then, been acquitted ?'”
“ A verdict has not been given," said the other. “ His
trial has been adjourned in order to give him an oppor-
tunity to choose a new counsel." '
Miss Firman motioned her visitor to be seated, and at
once took a chair herself.
“ What do you want with me ? ” she asked, with char-
acteristic bluntness.
The detective was silent. It was but for a moment,
but in that moment he seemed to read to the bottom of
this woman's mind.
“ Well," said he, “ I will tell you. You believe Craik
Mansell to be innocent?"
“ I do," she returned.
“ Very well ; so do I."
“Let me shake hands with you,"
mark. And without a smile she reached forth her hand,
was her abrupt re-
which he took with equal gravity.
This ceremony over, he remarked, with a cheerful
mien :
“We are fortunately not in a court of law, and so can


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 575
talk freely together. Why do you think Mansell inno-
cent ? I am sure the evidence has not been much
in his favor." '
“Why do you think him innocent?" was the brisk
retort.’
“ I have talked with him."
“ Ah ! "
“I have talked with Miss Dare."
A different “Ah ! " this time.
“And I was present when Mr. Orcutt breathed his
last."
The look she gave was like cold water on Mr. Gryce's
secretly growing hopes.
“ What has that to do with it ?" she wonderingly ex-
claimed.
The detective took another tone.
“ You did not know Mr. Orcutt then ?” he in-
quired.
“ I had not that honor," was the formal reply.
“You have never, then, visited your cousin in
Sibley ?"
“ Yes, I was there once ; but that did not give me an
acquaintance with Mr. Orcutt."
“ Yet he went almost every day to her house."
“And he came while I was there, but that did not give
me an acquaintance with him."
“He was reserved, then, in his manners, uncommuni-
cative, possibly morose ?"


. .a-.._-._..-_-._<-.-
584 HAND AND RING.
, to have touched some object for which she was seeking,
and she was evidently oblivious to all else. Miss F irman
came around and touched Mr. Gryce on the shoulder.
“ It is useless," said she ; “she is awake now, and you
won't hear any thing more ; come ! "
And she drew the reluctant detective back again into
the other room.
“ What does it all mean ?” she asked, sinking into a
chair.
Mr. Gryce did not answer. He had a question of his
. own to put.
“Why did your mother put her hand under her pil-
low ?" he asked.
“ I don't know, unless it was to see if her big envelope
was there."
“ Her big envelope ? ”
“Yes ; for weeks now, ever since she took to her bed,
she has kept a paper in a big envelope under her pillow.
What is in it I don't know, for she never seems to hear
me when I inquire."
“ And have you no curiosity to find out ? "
“No, sir. Why should I? It might easily be my
father's old letters sealed up, or, for that matter, be noth-
ing more than a piece of blank paper. My mother is not
herself, as I have said before."
“ I should like a peep at the contents of that envelope,"
he declared.
“You ? "


THE scauzs oF JUSTICE. 585
“ Is there any name written on the outside ?"
“ No."
“It would not be violating any one's rights, then, if
you opened it.”
“Only my mother's, sir."
“You say she is not in her right mind ? "
“ All the more reason why I should respect her whims
and caprices."
“Would n't you open it if she were dead ?"
“ Yes."
“ Will it be very different then from what it is now?
A father's letters ! a blank piece of paper! What harm
would there be in looking at them ?"
“ My mother would know it if I took them away. It
might excite and injure her."
“ Put another envelope in the place of this one, with a
piece of paper folded up in it."
“ It would be a trick."
“I know it ; but if Craik Mansell can be saved even by
a trick, I should think you would be willing to venture
on one."
“ Craik Mansell ? What has he got to do with the
papers under my mother's pillow? ”
“ I cannot say that he has any thing to do with them ;
but if he has—if, for instance, that envelope should con-
tain, not a piece of blank paper, or even the letters of
your father, but such a document, say, as a certificate of
I!
marriage


586 HAND AND RING.
_ " - . _..... _--F'--
“ A certificate of marriage ?"
“ Yes, between Mrs. Clemmens and Mr. Orcutt, it
would not take much perspicacity to prophesy an
acquittal for Craik Mansell."
“ Mary Ann the wife of Mr. Orcutt ! Oh, that is im-
possible!" exclaimed the agitated spinster. But even
while making this determined statement, she turned a
look full of curiosity and excitement toward the door
which separated them from her mother's apartment.
Mr. Gryce smiled in his wise way’.
“Less improbable things than that have been found to
be true in this topsy.turvy world," said he. “ Mrs. Clem-
mens might very well have been Mrs. Orcutt.”
“ Do you really think so ?" she asked ; and yielding with
sudden impetuosity to the curiosity of the moment, she
at once dashed from his side and disappeared in her
mother's room. Mr. Gryce's smile took on an aspect of
triumph.
It was some few moments before she returned, but
when she did, her countenance was flushed with emotion.
“ I have it," she murmured, taking out a packet from
under her apron and tearing it open with trembling
fingers.
A number of closely written sheets fell out.


- -..;.-...,...--.--_,-
588 HAND AND RING.
secret because he was afraid she would lose her place at
the hotel, where she was getting very good wages. You
see, he had the makings in him of a villain even then."
“ And was it a real marriage ? ”
“ There is a record of it," said Hickory.
“ And did he never acknowledge it ? "
“ Not openly," answered Byrd. “ The commonness of
the woman seemed to revolt him after he was married to
her, and when in a month or so he received the summons
East, which opened up before him the career of a lawyer,
he determined to drop her and start afresh. He accord-
ingly left town without notifying her, and actually suc-
ceeded in reaching the railway depot twenty miles away
before he was stopped. But here, a delay occurring in
the departure of the train, she was enabledto overtake
him, and a stormy scene ensued. What its exact nature
was, we, of course, cannot say, but from the results it is
evident that he told her his prospects had changed, and
with them his tastes and requirements ; that she was not
the woman he thought her, and that he could not and
would not take her East with him as his wife : while she,
on her side, displayed full as much spirit as he, and re-
plied that if he could desert her like this he was n't the
kind of a man she could live with, and that he could go
if he wished ; only that he must acknowledge her claims
upon him by giving her a yearly stipend, according to
his income and success. At all events, some such com-
promise was effected, for he came East and she went


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 59f
Seeing from his look that he only waited their depart-
ure to do so, Mr. Gryce and his surbordinates arose.
“ I think you will find them satisfactory," drawled
Hickory.
“If you do not," said Mr. Gryce, “then give a look at
this telegram.’ It is from Swanson, and notifies us that a
record of a marriage between Benjamin Orcutt—Mr.
Orcutt's middle name was Benjamin—and Mary Mansell
can be found in the old town books."
Mr. Ferris took the telegram, the shade of sorrow set-
tling heavier and heavier on his brow.'
“ I see," said he, “ I have got to accept your con-
clusions. Well, there are those among the living who
will be greatly relieved by these discoveries. I will try
and think of that."
Yet, after the detectives were gone, and he sat down in
solitude before these evidences of his friend's perfidy, it
was many long and dreary moments before he could sum-
mon up courage to peruse them. But when he did, he
found in them all that Mr. Gryce had promised. As my
readers may feel some interest to know how the seeming
widow bore the daily trial of her life, I will give a few
extracts from these letters. The first bears date of four-
teen years back, and was written after she came to
Sibley :
“ NOVEMBER 8, 1867.—In the same town! Within a
stone's throw of the court.house, where, they tell me, his
business will soon take him almost every day ! Is n't it
a triumph ? and am I not to be congratulated upon my


592 HAND AND RING.
bravery in coming here ? He has n't seen me yet, but I
have seen him. I crept out of the house at nightfall on
purpose. He was sauntering down the street and he
looked—it makes my blood boil to think of it—~he looked
/Iazw."
“NQVEMBER 1o, 1867.—Clemmens, Clemmens—that
is my name, and I have taken the title of widow.
What a fate for a woman with a husband in the next
street! He saw me to.day. I met him in the open
square, and I looked him right in the face. How he did
quail ! It just does me good to think of it! Perk and
haughty as he is, he grew as white as a sheet when he saw
me, and though he tried to put on airs and carry it off
with a high hand, he failed, just as I knew he would
when he came to meet me on even ground. Oh, I 'll
have my way now, and if I choose to stay in this place
where I can keep my eye on him, he won't dare to say
No. The only thing I fear is that he will do me a secret
mischief some day. His look was just murderous when
he left me."
“ FEBRUARY 24, r868.—Can I stand it? I ask myself
that question every morning when I get up. Can I stand
it? To sit all alone in my little narrow room and know
that he is going about as gay as you please with people
who would n't look at me twice. It 's awful hard ; but
it would be worse still to be where I could n't see what
he was up to. Then I should imagine all sorts of things.
No, I will just grit my teeth and bear it. I 'll get used
to it after a while."
“Ocrosim 7, 1868.—If he says he never loved me he
lies. He did, or why did he marry me? I never asked
him to. He teased me into it, saying my saucy ways had
bewitched him. Amonth after, it was common ways,
rude ways, such ways as he would n't have in a wife.
That ‘s the kind of man he is."
“MAY 1I, r869.—One thing I-will say of him. He
don't pay no heed to women. He 's too busy, I guess.
He don't seem to think of any thing but to get along,


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 593
and he does get along remarkable. I 'm awful proud of
him. He 's taken to defending criminals lately. They
almost all get off."
“ OCTOBER 5, 187o.—He pays me but a pittance. How
can I look like any thing, or hold my head up with the
ladies here if I cannot get enough together to buy me a
new fall hat. I will not go to church looking like a
farmer's wife, if I haven't any education or any man-
ners. I ‘m as good as anybody here if they but knew it,
and deserve to dress as well. He must give me more
money."
“Nov!-zmnmz 2, 187o.—No, he sha'n't give me a
cent more. If I can't go to church I will stay at home.
He sha'n't say I stood in his way of becoming a
great man. He is too good for me. I saw it to.day
when he got up in the court to speak. I was there
with a thick veil over my face, for I was determined
to know whether he was as smart as folks say or not.
And he just is! Oh, how beautiful he did look, and
how everybody held their breaths while he was speak-
ing! I felt like jumping up and saying: ‘This is my
husband; we were married three years ago.' Would n't
I have raised a rumpus if I had! I guess the poor
man he was pleading for would not have been remem-
bered very long after that. My husband! the thought
makes me laugh. No other woman can call him that,
anyhow. He is mine, mine, mine, and I mean he shall
stay so."
“ JANUARY 9, r87r.—I feel awful blue to.night. I
have been thinking about those Hildreths. How they
would like to have me dead ! And so would Tremont,
though he don't say nothing. I like to call him Tremont ;
it makes me feel as if he belonged to me. What if that
wicked Gouverneur Hildreth should know I lived so much
alone ? I don't believe he would stop at killing me 3 And
my husband ! He is equal to telling him I have no pro-
tector. Oh, what a dreadful wickedness it is in me to put
that down on paper! It is n't so-—it is n't so ; my husband


594 HAND AND RING.
. ~ ..... --> ”\_
would n't do me any harm if he could. If ever I 'm found
dead in my bed, it will be the work of that Toledo man
and of nobody else."
“ MARCH 2, I872.—I hope I am going to have some
comfort now. Tremont has begun to pay me more
money. He had to. He is n't a poor man any more, -
and when he moves into his bighouse, I am going to move
into a certain little cottage I have found, just around the
corner. If I can 't have no other pleasures, I will at least
have a kitchen I can call my own, and a parlor too.
What if there don't no company come to it ; they would
if they knew. I 've just heard from Adelaide ; she says
Craik is getting to be a big boy, and is so smart."
“JUNE Io, I872.—What 's the use of having a home? I
declare I feeljust like breaking down and crying. I don't
want company: if women folks, they ‘re always talking
about their husbands and children ;. and if men, they ‘re
always saying : ‘My wife's this, and my wife 's that.'
But I do want him. It 's my right ; what if I could n't
say three words to him that was agreeable, I could look
at him and think : " This splendid gentleman is my hus-
band, I ain't so much alone in the world as folks think.'
I 'll put on my bonnet and run down the street. Perhaps
I 'll see him sitting in the club.house window ! "
“ EvENING.—I hate him. He has a hard, cruel, wicked
heart. When I got to the club.house window he was sit-
ting there, so I just went walking by, and he saw me and
came out and hustled me away with terrible words, saying
he would n't have me hanging round where he was; that
I had promised not to bother him, and that I must keep my
word, or he would see me—he did n't say where, but it 's
easy enough to guess. So—so ! he thinks he 'll put an
end to my coming to see him, does he? Well, perhaps he
can ; but if he does, he shall pay for it by coming to see
me. I ‘ll not sit day in and day out alone without the
glimpse of a face I love, not while I have a husband in
the same town with me. He shall come, if it is only for
a moment each day, or I ‘ll dare every thing and tell the
world I am his wife."


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. 603
jury were ready with their verdict. The Judge took ad-
vantage of this, and the result was a triumphant ac-
quittal."
“ O Helen, Helen! "
“That was just an hour ago," cried the little lady,
brightly, “but the people are not through shouting yet.
There has been a great excitement in town these last few
days."
“And I knew nothing of it!" exclaimed Imogene.
Suddenly she looked at Helen. “How did you hear
about what took place in the court.room. to.day?" she
asked.
“ Mr. --Byrd told me."
“ Ah, Mr. Byrd ?" p
“He came to leave a good.bye for you. He goes
home this afternoon."
“ I should like to have seen Mr. Byrd," said Imogene.
“Would you ?" queried the little lady, quietly shaking
her head. “ I don't know ; I think it is just as well you
did not see him," said she.
But she made no such demur when a little while later
Mr. Gryce was announced. The fatherly old gentleman
had evidently been in that house before, and Mrs. Rich-
mond was not the woman to withstand a man like him.
He came immediately into the room where Imogene
was sitting. Evidently he thought as I.Ielen did, that
good news never hurts.
“Well!" he cried, taking her trembling hand in his,


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. ' 605
had overheard Mrs. Clemmens say when he came up to
her dining.room door.
The effect on Imogene was very great. Hoping to
hide it, she turned away her face, showing in this struggle
with herself something of the strength of her old days.
Mr. Gryce watched her with interest.
“ It is very strange," was her first remark. “I had
such reasons for thinking him guilty; he such good
cause for thinking me so. What wonder we doubted
each other. And yet I can never forgive myself for
doubting him; I can sooner forgive him for doubting
me. If you see him—-"
“If I see him?" interrupted the detective, with a
smile.
“ Yes," said she. “ If you see him tell him that Imo-
gene Dare thanks him for his noble conduct toward one
he believed to be stained by so despicable a crime, and
assure him that I think he was much more justified in his
suspicions than I was in mine, for there were weaknesses
in my character which he had ample opportunities for
observing, while all that I knew of him was to his credit.
“ Miss Dare," suggested the detective, “ could n't you
tell him this much better yourself ?"
“ I shall not have the opportunity," she said.
“ And why ?" he inquired.
“ Mr. Mansell and I have met for the last time. A
woman who has stained herself by such declarations as
I made use of in court the last time I was called to the