MYLES DESMOND FINDS FRIENDS.
Myles Desmond was not a particularly good young man, but good enough
as young men of the present generation go. He was a healthy, cheery,
enough-for-the-day-is-the-evil-thereof sort of fellow, and, considered
himself decidedly hardly treated at being arrested on such a serious
charge as that of the murder of Lena Sarschine.
According to the cynical creed prevailing now-a-days all his friends
should have turned their backs on him now he was in trouble, but there
is a wonderful lot of undiscovered good even in friends, and none of
them did. Instead of calling him names and laughing at his misfortune
Desmond's friends took up his cause warmly, and both in clubs and
drawing-rooms he was heartily commiserated. Many people, both in his
own set and in the literary circle of which he had become a member,
had taken a liking to the bright, kindly young man, and emphatically
declared that the whole thing was a terrible mistake.
"Myles Desmond a murderer!" they said, "why as soon say the Archbishop
of Canterbury is an Atheist." So as certain grasses only give out
perfume when crushed, Myles' misfortune brought all his friends around
to help him if need be.
And he sadly needed help, poor fellow, for his position was a very
critical one, the evidence against him being as follows:
1. He had last seen Lena Sarschine alive on the night of the murder.
2. He had been met in St. James's Street by Ellersby not far from the
scene of the crime.
3. He had in his possession the dagger with which the crime was, to
all appearances, committed.
Myles answered these accusations as follows:
1. He had not seen Lena Sarschine on that night, but another lady
whose name he refused to divulge.
2. His presence in St. James's Street on the night in question was
purely accidental.
3. And the dagger found in the vase was one he had taken from Lena
Sarschine on the afternoon of the day she had called to see Calliston
about the elopement.
"I'll tell you all about that dagger," explained Myles to Norwood, his
solicitor. "I was at Calliston's rooms on the Monday afternoon looking
over his papers, when Lena Sarschine came in like a mad woman to see
Calliston. I tried to quiet her, but she refused to be pacified, and
pulling out the dagger said she would kill Calliston first and Lady
Balscombe afterwards. I tried to take it from her and she flung it
away--neither of us knew it was poisoned, or I don't think we would
have been so reckless over it. In falling, the dagger rested slantwise
from the floor to the fender, and in springing to get it I put my foot
on it and broke the handle off. In case she should get it again, I put
the pieces in my pocket and took them home--I left them on a side
table, so if they were found in the ornaments someone must have placed
them there--and Lena Sarschine went away on that day, and since then I
have seen nothing of her."
"Then who was the lady you saw on that night?" asked his solicitor.
"I cannot tell you," replied the young man doggedly. "I gave my word
to the lady I would not say she had been there till I had her
permission, and till I get it I cannot."
"When will you get it?"
"When Calliston returns in his yacht."
"Why, in that case," said Norwood, "you must mean Lady Balscombe?"
"I have not said so."
"No," replied Norwood quickly, "but you say your permission to speak
must come from a lady, and the only lady on board the yacht is Lady
Balscombe, as she ran away with Lord Calliston. Come, tell me, was it
Lady Balscombe you saw on that night?"
"I won't answer you."
All that Norwood could do could not get any other answer from the
obstinate young man, so in despair the lawyer left him.
"It's impossible to perform miracles," he muttered to himself as he
went back to his office, "and if this young fool won't tell me the
whole truth I cannot see what I can do."
On arriving at his office he found a lady waiting to see him, and on
glancing carelessly at the card handed to him by his clerk started
violently.
"Miss Penfold," he said, "by Jove! she was engaged to Lord Calliston.
Now I wonder what she wants?"
The young lady made her appearance, and the door being closed, soon
enlightened him on that point.
"You are Mr. Desmond's lawyer?" she asked.
"Yes, I have that honour," replied Norwood, rather puzzled to know
what she had come about.
"I--I take a great interest in Mr. Desmond," said the girl,
hesitating, "in fact, I'm engaged to him."
"But I thought Lord Calliston----"
"Lord Calliston is nothing to me," she broke in impatiently. "I never
did like him, though my guardian wished me to marry him, and I love
Myles Desmond, if I did not I would not be here."
"Well, of course I feel sure he is innocent."
"Innocent! I never had any doubt on the subject, but I want to know
what chances there are of proving his innocence."
"It will be a difficult matter," said Norwood thoughtfully, "as I can
get him to tell me nothing."
"What is it he refuses to tell you?" asked Miss Penfold.
"The name of the lady whom he saw at Lord Calliston's chambers on the
night of the murder. I believe myself it was Lady Balscombe."
"Lady Balscombe!" echoed May in astonishment, "why what would take her
there?"
"Perhaps she went to meet Lord Calliston. The reason why I think it's
she is that Mr. Desmond says he promised the lady he saw that he would
not speak without her permission, and then he tells me he cannot speak
till Lord Calliston's yacht comes back, and as Lady Balscombe is the
only lady on board it must be her."
"But why should he refuse to tell you it was her?"
Norwood shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, it's hardly the thing for a lady to visit a chambers at that
hour of the night--her reputation----"
"Her reputation!" repeated May Penfold contemptuously, "he need not
try to save it now, considering she's thrown it away by eloping with
Lord Calliston; but what else is there in his favour?"
"The principal thing is the dagger," said Norwood; "he told me he took
it from Lena Sarschine and brought it home--so if his landlady or
anyone else put it away, they must have seen it--and so it will show
the truth of his story."
"Then in order to find out it will be best to see his landlady."
"Certainly--but I don't know where he lives."
"I do--Primrose Crescent, Bloomsbury. You go there and find out what
you can."
"I may as well try," said Norwood thoughtfully, "but I'm afraid it's a
forlorn hope."
"Forlorn hopes generally succeed," replied May with a confident smile.
"So you go to his lodgings, and then let me know the result of your
inquiries."
Norwood agreed to this, and after Miss Penfold had departed called a
cab and drove to the address of Myles Desmond. Rondalina, more wan and
ghost-like than ever, opened the door and informed the lawyer that
Mrs. Mulgy had gone out.
"That's a pity," said Norwood, in a disappointed tone. "Are you the
servant?"
"Yes sir," replied Rondalina, dropping a curtsey.
"And you attend to all the lodgers?"
"Yes, sir."
"Oh! then perhaps you can tell me what I want to know," said Norwood
cheerfully. "Take me up to Mr. Desmond's room."
Rondalina, being a London girl, was very sharp, and looked keenly at
Mr. Norwood to see if he had any design of burglary. The scrutiny
proving satisfactory, she led him upstairs, and showed him Desmond's
sitting-room.
"Now then," said Norwood, taking a seat, "I want you to answer me a
few questions."
Rondalina looked frightened, and said, "Yes, sir," in a mechanical
manner.
"First," asked Norwood, "do you dust this room and put things
straight?"
"I do, sir."
"Do you remember seeing a broken dagger about the place--a blade and a
handle?"
Rondalina twisted her apron up into a knot and thought hard, then
intimated she had seen it.
"Oh!--and when did you see it?"
"About a week or so ago, sir," replied Rondalina. "Mr. Desmond, sir,
he comes in at five o'clock when I was a'layin' of the cloth for
dinner, and ses he 'I ain't a-goin' to stay in for dinner 'cause I'm
a-goin' h'out,' then he takes the knife from his pocket, being broken
in two, and throws the bits on the table and goes out to put his
clothes on. I takes the dinner things down stairs, and when I comes up
he were gone, so I sets to work an' tidies up the room."
"Was the dagger still on the table?"
"The knife, sir," corrected Rondalina, "yes, sir, it were, and I puts
the bits in the h'ornaments so as to keep 'em out of the way of the
children, an' I 'ope it weren't wrong, sir."
"No, not at all," replied Norwood, "but tell me, did Mr. Desmond come
back on that night?"
"Yes, sir--but not till late, sir--three o'clock in the morning. He
'adn't his latch-key, so I 'ad to git h'up and let him in."
"Was he sober?"
"Quite, sir, only he seemed upset like, and goes up to his room
without saying a word."
This was all the information obtainable from Rondalina, so Norwood
departed from the house very much satisfied with what he had
discovered. He drove straight to Park Lane and told May Penfold all
Rondalina had said.
"You see," he said in conclusion, "this evidence will prove one thing,
that Desmond could not have committed the crime with that dagger."
"Then I suppose they'll say he did it with another," said May
bitterly.
"If they do so they will damage their own case," replied Norwood
coolly, "for Dowker swears the crime was committed by this special
dagger, and if Desmond did not use it--as can be proved by the
evidence of the servant--no one else could have done so; by-the-way,
you say Sir Rupert was down at Berkshire on that night."
"He was," replied May, "but he came up by a late train and then went
to his club shortly before twelve."
"Is he in?" asked the lawyer.
"No, but you will be able to see him about five o'clock," said Miss
Penfold, "he has been shut up in his library since the elopement of
his wife, but had to go out to-day on business."
"I'll call then."
"What do you want to see him about?"
"I am anxious to ascertain if he knew his wife's movements on that
night, and whether she left the house."
"I don't think he can tell you that, as his wife and he were on bad
terms and occupied different rooms; besides, even if you find out that
Lady Balscombe visited Lord Calliston's chambers on that night, it
won't save Myles."
"I don't know so much about that," replied Norwood, cheerfully, "it
will help to unravel this mystery, and when everything is made plain
I'm certain Myles Desmond won't be the man to suffer for this crime."