“Either of those men will answer,” said I. “Let him take his station in
the area next to this, and when posted there give _the call_. He will
understand. Will the guilty person be likely to lead him a long chase?”
“That it is as impossible for me to know as you. I have no conception
where the thief will go upon leaving this house. To some place
favorable for the concealment of his booty, of course, but where, time
and the skill of his pursuer must determine.”
“I will just add a line of caution to that pursuer,” said I, and taking
the card I scribbled a few directions on its back, after which I gave
it to Mr. Winchester.
In exchange he handed me two keys.
“This one unlocks the door leading to the back-stairs, and this the
front door of the basement.” After which explanation he left me, and in
another moment I heard him go up-stairs and enter his wife’s room.
The programme we had agreed upon was carried out to the letter. In
less than a half hour Mr. and Mrs. Winchester came down, he looking
pale and stern, she haughty and imperturbably calm. The carriage, which
I had heard drive up a moment before, stood at the door and they passed
immediately out, but not before I had time to observe that she wore
the same dress I had seen her in above, a rich mauve-colored velvet
made high in the throat and heavily loaded with what I believe they
call a _passementerie_ of pearl beads enriched with lace; a species
of garniture which in my eyes obviated the necessity of any further
adornment more pretentious than the simple cluster of pearls she wore
in her ears.
“A noble and a dignified presence,” I thought as she passed, and
wondered if the heart under that violet robe beat any faster than her
appearance betokened, or whether she was indeed one of that class of
women in whom the ills and exigences of life stir but faint chords and
produce but slight emotions.
The bang of the carriage door was followed by the almost immediate
reappearance of Mr. Winchester.
“Now,” said he, “to business!” And looking up the stairs, he hailed,
with a glance of satisfaction, the descending figure of the young man
whom we had before met on the landing above, and whom he had designated
to me as his wife’s son.
“Ah, Lawrence,” said he, “come down. I sent for you and Miss Irwin——by
the by, where is she? Oh, I see, looking over the banisters above——that
I might introduce to you Mr. Byrd, a detective from the police force,
whose business here, as you may judge, is to recover for us your
mother’s diamonds. It is necessary for you to know him, for he, as well
as myself, has come to the conclusion that your mother is mistaken
in believing that the jewels were stolen by some one entering from
without. Indeed, he is sure that not only is the thief a member of
this household, but that the diamonds are still on the premises, and
can be found by a thorough and systematic search. He is, therefore,
going to take advantage of your mother’s absence to put his theory to
the test, and as soon as suitable assistance can be procured from the
police station, will begin a search that will stop at no receptacles,
be balked by no place of concealment, however personal or private. I
say this, because I do not wish you or Miss Irwin to feel irritated
if he is obliged to enter your rooms, there being, as you know, one
or two old servants with us whose feelings might justly be wounded if
their persons or belongings were subjected to an examination that was
not shared in by every individual in the house. You will, therefore,
be ready with your keys, and, by setting an example to the servants,
make the efforts of this officer as light as possible. Am I understood,
Lawrence?”
“Certainly, sir.”
The answer was as nonchalant as the question, which was put with
an easy and light good-nature, calculated to deceive every ear but
that of a detective. Indeed Mr. Lawrence Sutton——I learned his name
afterwards——seemed to be awakening from a dream——and the moment his
step-father was gone,——for Mr. Winchester did not linger after saying
the above,——he turned and went immediately up-stairs just as if I had
not been standing there.
His conduct was so unexpected, I paused, irresolute. This was the man
Mr. Winchester suspected, I felt sure, and here he was going, for aught
I knew, straight to the spot where the valuable articles lay concealed
whose recovery and delivery into Mr. Winchester’s hands would bring
me what I was fain to consider in these days of my poverty, a small
fortune. Should I follow him, or should I trust to Mr. Winchester’s
judgment and wait for him to re-descend? The conviction that I would
only defeat my own ends by surprising him too soon, decided me at last
to remain below, and, withdrawing into the reception-room, I waited,
with indescribable anxiety, first for the peculiar call which would
notify me that my colleague had arrived on the scene, and, secondly,
for the returning step of Mr. Sutton. But before either of these sounds
assailed my ears there came another which aroused my keenest curiosity.
This was a noise of whispering on the floor above, followed by a short,
sharp cry of joy in a voice I felt sure belonged to the young gentleman
I had seen. Then all was silence, during which came the call without,
then a rush above as of hurrying feet, after which I heard no more
till——yes, the eagerly expected sound of a descending step awakened
all my energies, and glancing through the crack of the door near which
I stood, I saw Mr. Sutton coming down with his overcoat on.
More satisfied than I could say, not at this evidence of the truth
of Mr. Winchester’s suspicions,——for Mr. Sutton had a fine air and
a countenance which, if it bore the unmistakable signs of a life
of dissipation, had yet an expression that was not without its
attraction,——but at the result of an experiment which was almost daring
in its nature, I waited to hear the front door open and close. But I
had not calculated on Mr. Sutton being a gentleman of great courtesy
and many resources, and before I was fully aware of his presence, he
was at my side, bowing with extreme urbanity, and holding out a chain
from which I saw several keys hanging.
“Mr. Winchester has requested me to give you these. By their aid you
will be enabled to open every box and drawer that _I_ own. As for the
others, you must find your own way of entrance and examination. I have
an important engagement out which will keep me, perhaps, an hour. On my
return I will lend you all the assistance I can; for I am naturally as
anxious as any one that so valuable a treasure as my mother’s diamonds
should not be lost to the family.”
I bowed and he drew back, taking out a pair of new gloves, which, to
my unbounded astonishment, he stopped to fit on with great nicety and
precision. Then he moved towards the door, but even there he paused and
looked up the stairs before finally putting on his hat and going out.
“A consummate actor!” thought I, and sprang to the window, through
which I rather incautiously peered. He was descending the steps, still
slowly, but with more of an air of determination than he had shown
within. In another moment he was on the side-walk, and in an instant
later was walking rapidly down the street. Hurrying from the window,
I went to the front door and opened it. A man was leaving the area
next door, and, before I turned to come in, I had the satisfaction of
seeing Mr. Sutton’s tall form closely shadowed by the most knowing and
discreet assistant we have on the force.
“Now for hours of dreary patience,” mused I, sinking into a large easy
chair near a table of inviting-looking books.
But scarcely had I uttered this thought than I sprang to my feet in
fresh excitement. Another step was on the stair, another presence in
the room.
Turning in the full expectation of seeing Miss Irwin, I encountered the
gaze of an old and feeble woman. Surprised, I bowed with respect; upon
which she immediately said:
“I hear that Mr. Winchester has decided to have a search made through
the house for the diamonds that Mrs. Winchester has lost. Is it going
to be done to-night?”
“It will have to be done to-night if at all,” I returned with
pardonable prevarication. “There would be but little satisfaction in
undertaking it after any communication had been established between its
inmates and the world without.”
“Then,” said she, with little or no heed to the latter part of my
sentence, “may I ask as a favor that you will make it convenient to
go through my room first? I am Mrs. Winchester’s aunt; and I am sure
she would not wish me to be kept out of my bed any later than is
necessary. My room is small and——”
Poor old lady! it was really cruel. I made haste to relieve her mind.
“There can be no necessity for searching your room——” I began.
But she interrupted me with prompt decision.
“You are mistaken,” said she. “If there is a room in this house which
ought to be looked into, it is mine. For the very reason that it is the
last one a detective would examine, makes it possibly the very one a
thief would choose for the purpose of concealment. I prefer you to go
through my room, sir.”
I was astonished and not a little perplexed. The old lady looked so
determined it was evident she was not to be trifled with. But I was
not ready to explain to her that the threatened search was but a
_ruse de guerre_, which had already produced its desired result; and
yet, if I did not do so, how was I to account for a delay that would
inconvenience her so materially? I could see but one way out of the
difficulty, and that was to make a superficial examination of her room
and her effects, after which I would proclaim myself satisfied with my
scrutiny, in the hope that she would be so too. I accordingly answered
her that I appreciated her position perfectly, and that if she would
consent to it, I would go to her apartment at once.
She signified that she would be only too happy; whereupon I immediately
led the way up-stairs. She followed me up the two flights, and
earnestly pointed out the door of her room. But as I approached it
I heard a suspicious sound on the floor below, and looking over the
banisters, beheld the lithe and agile figure of Philippa gliding down
the stairs to the front door. She was dressed for the street, and had
evidently taken advantage of my position to escape from the house.
Instantly a throng of doubts and suspicions passed through my mind. I
was the victim of a plot, and the old lady was neither so innocent nor
so disinterested as she appeared. When she persuaded me to go up-stairs
it was with the direct intention of giving Philippa the opportunity
to reach the street unhindered. I knew it even before I noticed how
her feeble and panting form filled the narrow passage at the head of
the stairs, necessitating some slight rudeness on my part to pass her.
But rudeness, even to an aged and decrepit lady, was of small account
in an exigency like this. Twenty-five thousand dollars were in all
probability slipping from my grasp, to say nothing of my reputation as
an astute and not readily deceived detective. And yet, was it now and
in this way the diamonds were leaving the house, or had they already
been carried away, as I formerly believed, by Mr. Sutton? Either might
be true, or, as I had time to think before I was half-way down the
first flight, neither might be true. His departure, and now hers, might
be equally a ruse to withdraw attention from the house and the real
concealer of these valuable gems; and, pausing just one instant in
my descent, I looked back at the place where I had left the old lady
tottering from the push I had been obliged to give her in my anxiety
to pass. She was standing there still, but the look with which she
followed me was one of ill-concealed satisfaction, and though she drew
back at my first glance, I had time to observe that a smile had crept
into the corners of her mouth that augured poorly for the success of
any design that I might entertain.
Meanwhile Philippa’s hand was on the knob of the front door, and she
would have been out of the house in another instant if she had not
stopped to glance at the hat rack, with the deliberate purpose, as I
believe, of hindering me in my pursuit by appropriating my hat if it
hung there. But fortunately for me I had carried it with me into the
reception-room, so her glance as well as her delay was but momentary.
Before I was well at the top of the first flight I heard the front door
close, and knew I had to decide in a breath, as it were, whether to
follow her and so forsake the building and it might be the very gems I
was seeking to recover, or to allow her to go her way unhindered, in
face of the equal possibility of her bearing them away to some place of
safer concealment.
The thought of Mr. Winchester decided me instantly. If I failed in
recovering the gems by following Philippa, I would but lose my reward
and possibly a little of my prestige as a detective; but if I failed
in the same undertaking by not following her, Mr. Winchester would
have the right to reproach me with a manifest disregard of his orders.
For had he not said, “Watch who it is who endeavors to leave this
house after your threat to search it, and follow him, for that person
will have the diamonds.” To be sure Mr. Sutton had already gone and
was being followed, but if a dozen left after him, especially after
resorting to subterfuge to elude pursuit, would it not be my duty
to see that they were also followed and that with the same care and
circumspection I had thought proper to have employed in his case? There
could be no doubt on the matter; so flinging all other consideration
to the winds, I gave myself up to the pursuit of this flying sprite,
closing the front door after me without a suspicion but that my first
glance down the street would show me in what direction she had started.
But neither my glances down the street nor up revealed to me Philippa,
and agitated by my first fear that I had possibly undertaken more
than I could accomplish, I dashed down to the corner, which was that
of Madison Avenue, and looking hastily this way and that, saw on
the block below the supple and delicate form of a female which I had
barely decided was hers, when a car stopped and she stepped aboard and
was carried away before I could get breath to cry stop! to the rather
obtuse conductor who assisted her.
Happily the next car was not many blocks off, and when I boarded it and
found the driver a man I knew, I felt that the case was not so hopeless
as first appeared. With but little persuasion he consented to urge the
horses on a little faster than the schedule called for, so that in a
few minutes we had drawn up close enough to the car in front for me to
see each figure as it descended. In this way I was enabled to follow
Miss Irwin with more satisfaction than if I had got into the same car
with her; and as her ride was short, I soon was stepping lightly behind
her down Forty-fifth Street. She did not walk two blocks before she
stopped, ran up a stoop, rang the bell and was admitted.
I hastened quickly after her, looked at the number and paused
confounded. Why, this was a house I well knew; one which many people
visited,——though not often on the same errand as Miss Irwin, I must
believe,——one which I had sometimes visited myself; the home of the
well-known minister, Mr. Randall.
Nonplussed for the moment, I stood hesitating, when to add to my
astonishment a man stepped up to me from behind, and tapping me
familiarly on the back, said:
“Well, what do _you_ make of it?”
It was Hawkins.
“What! you here?” I exclaimed.
“Certain!” he cried, “and my man, too.”
It was inexplicable. Fortunately there was hope of solving the mystery.
“I think I will go in,” said I. “I know Mr. Randall quite well. If one
or both of them come out before I do, follow. I will not be gone any
longer than is necessary.”
He nodded and fell back into his hiding-place. I rang the bell and
asked for Mr. Randall.
“He is busy just now, sir,” explained the neat servant girl who
answered my summons. “But if you will step into his study, he will soon
be ready to see you.”
I needed no second invitation. In a few moments I was ensconced in
the cosy back parlor, listening to the low murmur of voices that came
from the room in front through the heavy folding-doors that separated
the two apartments. Of these voices I could distinguish two; the heavy
bass of Mr. Randall, and the lighter, smoother tones of the young man
who had brought me his keys in Seventy-third Street. Suddenly both
voices ceased, and there was a slight bustle, then a solemn silence,
then——could it be the sound of Mr. Randall’s voice again, not in
the conversational tone he had previously used, but in the measured
accent he was accustomed to use in the pulpit. “The enigma increases,”
thought I, and, regardless of appearances, I crept to the folding-doors
and glued my ear against the narrow crack that marked their line of
division. What I heard only increased my curiosity to the fever point.
At all risks, and in despite of all ordinary proprieties, I must see
whom the clergyman was addressing; so, exerting all my skill and no
little of the caution of a professional detective, I pried the doors
the least bit apart and saw,——what I certainly had not come there to
see, and yet a very pretty sight for all that——Mr. Sutton and Philippa
Irwin kneeling before Mr. Randall, and that gentleman pronouncing over
them the marriage benediction.
There was another lady and two gentlemen in a group about them, but
beyond noting that the lady was Mrs. Randall, and the gentlemen members
of the same family, I did not bestow a thought upon them, my whole
attention being given to the man and woman, whom I had been following
under so sinister a suspicion, only to find myself a witness of the
most serious act of their lives.
The surprise of the occasion and the touching nature of the whole
scene, made me for the instant forget the diamonds and what my very
presence in that spot implied. But, when the final words had been said,
and the few congratulations offered, the young people faced about
and I caught a glimpse of the bride’s countenance, I remembered with
a shock the gloomy nature of the shadow which surrounded them; and
while I could not help but give my sympathy to a condition of things
at once so novel and so interesting, I also felt my determination as
a detective return. For Philippa’s face wore not the look of a happy
bride, but that of a woman who has just dared everything that some
cherished scheme might be fulfilled or some dreadful ill averted.
Indeed, there was terror in the eye with which she regarded her
husband; a terror so mixed with love and the light of something like
hope as she met his glance of triumphant satisfaction, that I felt I
must probe the matter of the diamonds to the bottom if only to solve
the mystery of her action, and the motives by which she had been
governed in this gift of herself at a moment so manifestly unpropitious
to happiness and honor.
Meanwhile, Mr. Randall was saying some words of courtesy and farewell,
and, seeing that in another moment his steps might be turned in my
direction, I pushed to the doors at which I was standing, with even a
greater caution than that with which I had separated them, and falling
back to my old station on the sofa, I awaited with equal interest and
impatience his entrance and the sound of the young couple’s departure.
Mr. Randall appeared and the front door closed at the same time.
Resigning Mr. Sutton and his bride to the care of the man without, I
turned my attention to the clergyman. I knew enough of his character
and life to be certain he had not married them without knowing
something of their history and condition, and that knowledge I meant to
have.
Some of my readers may not need to be told that I, Horace Byrd, was
not always on the detective force; that I had had my bringing up in
different circles, and that I was by birth and education what is called
a gentleman. I speak of this here to account for the affability with
which Mr. Randall greeted me, and his readiness to satisfy what, under
ordinary circumstances, might have been considered a most impertinent
and inexcusable curiosity. He was my father’s friend, and he listened
with respect while I made my excuses, and opened at once upon the
subject that occupied my thoughts.
“Mr. Randall,” said I, “the errand with which I approach you is of a
most singular nature. The couple you have just married——pardon me, my
ears are good and my presence here is in connection with that same
couple——lie under a suspicion of wrong-doing that may or may not lead
to consequences of the most serious nature. What that wrong-doing is I
had rather not state, since it is as yet merely a suspicion from which
they may be able to clear themselves. But what I will say is, that you
will be furthering their welfare and assisting at the unravelment of
a most mysterious occurrence if you will tell me what you know about
them, and the causes which led to this evidently hasty and clandestine
marriage.”
“I am greatly astonished,” were his first words; “and feel strongly
inclined to ask you what these poor young folks could have done beyond
loving each other and marrying in despite of the pride and ambitious
projects of Mr. and Mrs. Winchester. But curiosity pure and simple is
unworthy of a clergyman, so I will merely say if they are doing or
have done anything that could be called really wrong I was in complete
ignorance of it, and that their marriage is but the culmination of an
intention long known to me if not to the world and that society to
which the groom if not the bride belongs.”
“Now,” returned I, “you astonish me. They were engaged, then, and you
knew it; something which I can scarcely believe his own mother did.”
“Very likely,” was the quiet retort. “Mrs. Winchester is not one whom
a proud man would take into his confidence if he meant to make what is
called a poor and unequal match.”
“Still,” I began——
“Still,” he interrupted, “a son should show a certain consideration
and respect to the mother who bore him and who always has displayed,
as he himself declares, forbearance to his faults and sympathy for the
weakness that caused them. I know all this,” Mr. Randall continued,
“and I agree with you in your opinion; but there were certain
peculiarities in this special case which offer at least some excuse
for his action and my sympathy with it. Lawrence Sutton was not always
a respectable member of society. He was a wild boy, an extravagant
youth, and a more than dissipated man. His mother loved him but could
not control him, powerful and determined spirit though she is. Nor
had his step-father’s position and enormous wealth any influence in
controlling passions that partook almost of the recklessness of the
foreign fast society amongst which he was more or less unfortunately
cast. He seemed to be without aspiration, and yet he was not shallow,
nor ungenerous, nor mean. His mother, whose thoughts few can penetrate,
looked on and was silent; his step-father, who had not nature to help
him to a consideration for his faults, showed his anger and threatened
to show him his door but never did. He lived an outcast from the best
and showed no prospect of amendment till suddenly——it was a year
ago——the greatest and most startling change took place in his habits
and general style of living; and from being a careless man about town,
he became the courteous, careful gentleman, alive to the place of
honor he had lost in society and active in his endeavor to regain it.
His mother, always hopeful for her boy, naturally attributed to her
own quiet influence and unbroken faith this wonderful restoration to
manhood and honor: but I knew better; I to whom human nature has been
an open book for twenty-five years, knew that something fresher and
more ideal than any influence Mrs. Winchester was capable of exerting
had led this young man to reject a course which had become almost a
second nature to him.
“Frequent and prolonged visits at Mr. Winchester’s house did not serve
to explain the mystery to me. I found Mr. Sutton sitting with the
family,——something which I had not seen him do for years,——but how was
I to connect this fact with the presence now and then of the quiet
young woman, without any special attraction, whom Mrs. Winchester once
rather carelessly introduced to me as Miss Irwin; and yet this girl
with the subdued look and meek, almost humble aspect, was the force
which had acted on this man’s nature and turned its impulses, as it
were, completely about. To him she was the manifestation of all that
was ideal and desirable in womanhood; and from the first moment he saw
her, as he afterwards told me, he made up his mind to win her for his
wife if it cost him all and every indulgence of his hitherto much to
be reprobated life. That he cherished this hope in his heart and did
not make a confidant of either of his parents is not to be wondered
at. Mrs. Winchester looks upon Philippa as a dependent; a being too
insignificant to be regarded, much less admired or feared. Nothing, not
even the change in her son’s moral life, would ever have convinced her
that this girl possessed influence; or if by any means that belief was
forced upon her, that it arose from any merit or powers she was bound
to acknowledge or respect. A handsome, elegant, worldly-wise woman
herself, she sees no excellence that is not linked to those qualities,
and would rather, I verily believe, have seen her son thrown back into
his old course than owe his redemption to a source so insignificant
in appearance and out of all accord with her own views of what was in
keeping with her son’s prospects and her own social position.
“At least, this is the judgment I have formed of her, and this the
explanation which young Sutton gave me of his conduct, in an interview
he held with me some six months ago. ‘She’——that is, his mother——‘shall
know nothing of what Philippa is to me till she sees her at my side
as my wife,’ was his remark to me at that time. ‘And that I look to
you to make her,’ he continued, ‘when by perseverance and a proper
probation I have induced this pure and uncontaminated being to trust me
with her fate and make me what I now believe I am capable of becoming,
a man of purpose, ambition, and social standing.’
“Such hopes, such resolution, and such spirit in a man of his type and
with his record could not but enlist my sympathy. A soul which I had
long thought lost had found its motive to better things, and though
this motive was not the highest, it was high enough to give hope for
the continuance of the good work to the end of all I could fondly wish
for him. I therefore entered into his plans with cordial interest,
and though I deprecated his taking any serious step without at least
acquainting his mother with his intentions, I promised and have kept
my word, that when he came to me with Philippa I would marry them,
trusting to his own sense of propriety and her discretion, that the
event would be for the honor and happiness of the family as well as
for their own mutual joy and satisfaction. But what you tell me now
disturbs me where I never thought to be disturbed. They are under
suspicion of some evil——what, I cannot imagine——and you know it; which
means that it is flagrant, and possibly makes them amenable to the law.”
I did not answer this, for I was full of thoughts. Could it be that
this pure and touching story of seemingly true love was destined to
be besmirched by the shadow of crime? Had Lawrence Sutton taken the
diamonds, and did Philippa Irwin know it; or was Mrs. Winchester’s
story correct, and the deed one of the common order of burglary?
“What adds to my concern,” the good clergyman went on, after waiting a
suitable time for me to speak, “is that some folks think——some members
of his own family in fact——that the change in his nature, to which I
allude, is not so thorough as I have made you understand. They insist
that he still carries on his old practices, but more secretly. And
they have a reason for this; for whereas, at one time, that is, in the
beginning of his acquaintance with Philippa, he used to remain at home
during the evening, he has for some months now confined his attentions
in that quarter to Sunday night merely, going out as regularly after
dinner as he used to do in his wildest days of dissipation. Only he
does not come home intoxicated any more, and his eyes, which once
looked bleared and heavy, are now clear and wide-awake. I——I wish we
knew where he is accustomed to spend his nights.”
“Well, we will find out,” I assured him, getting up and moving towards
the door; “and though I fear the result may not be all we could wish,
I will remember your anxiety and relieve as much of it as is possible
to-morrow. I must say good-night, now, for this matter is not one that
will keep.” And merely pausing to thank him for his goodness, I left
Mr. Randall and proceeded directly back to the house of Mr. Winchester.
My reflections on the way there were not of a wholly satisfactory
nature. If Mr. Sutton and his bride were in possession of the diamonds,
there was no telling what they would do or where they would go;
separate, possibly, and thus put Hawkins at his wits’ end as to which
of the two to follow. If they were not in possession of the diamonds,
I fully believed I should find them at the house before me. But that
was a contingency only satisfactory to my sympathy; for, if the gems
were not with them, where were they? Not in Mr. Winchester’s house by
this time; of that I could be perfectly sure.
So it was with anything but a light heart that I rang the bell this
time, and greeting Mr. Winchester’s countenance as before, entered
again into this dwelling of mystery.
“We have come back,” were his hurried words, uttered with feverish
intensity. “And you? Have you got the diamonds?”