CHAPTER XIII._The Spiritualists and the Detectives

Mr. Pinkerton again interviews Le Compte.-- And very much

desires to wring his Neck.-- A Bargain and Sale.-- Le

Compte's Story.-- "Little by Little, Patience by

Patience."-- A Toronto Merchant in Mrs. Winslow's Toils.--

Detective Bristol, "the retired Banker," in Clover.--

Tabitha, Amanda, and Hannah individually and collectively

woo him.-- Ancient Maidens full of Soul.-- A Signal.

No jury in the land would render a verdict against a man on the

unsupported evidence of a woman whose character was so vile as we had

already found Mrs. Winslow's to be; and I would have paid no further

attention to the little Frenchman, had I not suspected from his

expensive style of living, and from Mrs. Winslow's injunctions to him

regarding not swindling her in so small a matter as a bottle of wine,

that his necessities and cupidity might cause him to make some tangible

disclosure regarding her, that would give us a clue to other information

against her further than that which Bangs would probably secure in the

West, as I never use detective evidence when it can be avoided, and knew

that a perfect mountain of criminal transactions could be eventually

heaped up against her which could be secured from reliable parties, who

could have no other possible interest in her downfall than a desire to

promote the personal good of society.

Le Compte did not desire to see me again, and had made strenuous efforts

to prevent it and secure a surreptitious interview with Lyon instead.

Failing in this, at the last moment, I had received a very terse note

from him to the effect that he did not desire to transmit any statement

by mail, but would take it as an honor, etc., if I would call at his

place at ten o'clock, Monday morning, which I did, finding the little

fellow in a gorgeous dressing-gown, freshly shaved, and in a neat and

orderly state generally.

"Well, my young friend," said I, "I suppose you have decided to give me

some information this morning."

"Do I get good pay?" he asked in response.

"You will get good pay if you have a good article for sale," I replied.

"Humph!" he responded, with a soft shrug of his delicate shoulders.

"Are you ready to make such a sale?" I asked.

"But where comes my money?" inquired Le Compte, suspiciously.

"It is right here," I answered, slapping my pocket in a hearty way.

"But suppose it shall stay there, then where is Le Compte?" he persisted

with a doleful look which was irresistibly funny.

"It _will_ stay there," I replied, "in case you attempt to play any of

your tricks, my little fellow."

"How shall I then know I am to be paid?"

"You will have to take my word for it."

"But I have not pleasure in your acquaintance; how can I be sure?" he

continued anxiously.

"Le Compte, swindler as you are, you _know_ that I am an honest man.

This quibbling is utterly foolish and simple. I am acting entirely for

Mr. Lyon in this matter, and should you write to him or call upon him a

hundred times, you would get nothing from him but a bluff. Here are your

two notes," I continued, producing them, "one written Saturday, the

other yesterday. The only response you got to them was, silence--and

this interview. I thought we understood each other already."

I saw that he was still undecided about saying whatever he might have to

say, and tenacious of sustaining his professional reputation as a

clairvoyant. I might have easily frightened him into submission by the

slightest reference to the occurrences of the previous day, but knew

that this would have the effect of putting Mrs. Winslow on her guard, as

she was already becoming suspicious and anxious, and preferred getting

at his communication in the ordinary way. After he had sat musing for a

time he suddenly asked:

"How great will be my pay?"

"What do you think the information is worth?" I said.

He looked at me as if fixing a price in his mind that I would stand, and

replied:

"Certain, a thousand dollars."

"That is a good deal of money, Le Compte," I said pleasantly. "I

hardly think you can divulge a thousand dollars' worth. But if you can

give me reliable information of a satisfactory character, I think I

could pay you three hundred dollars.

"Now?" he inquired, suddenly.

"Oh, no, oh, no," I replied as quickly; "no, sir, _not_ until we find

the information you give is reliable."

This dampened the little fellow wonderfully, but he finally said: "Well,

the evidence is certain, but I must offer it to you by clairvoyance,"

and he immediately arose and began darkening the room as on the previous

interview, which act I interrupted by stepping to the window he had just

darkened, and jerking the curtain as high as it would roll, opening the

window, and flinging the blinds open with a slam.

"You little villain!" I shouted, advancing upon him threateningly, "I

will wring your neck if you don't stop this contemptible nonsense!"

while he slunk into the corner, like the mean coward that he was. I

could scarcely keep my hands off the little puppy; but recollecting that

I was there for quite another purpose, I said:

"Le Compte, this is the last time I shall come here, and it is the last

time you will have an opportunity of making a dollar out of any

information you may possess. Now, sir," I said, savagely, starting

towards the door, "you will give it to me, trusting entirely to my honor

to pay you for it, or you will never get a cent for it on earth."

[Illustration: _"You little villain!" I shouted, advancing upon him

threateningly:--_]

The little fellow turned towards me imploringly, with "Please don't go.

My dear sir, you are so greatly abrupt. We have no men like you in La

Belle France."

"Heaven knows, I hope but few _like_ you," I responded. "Now, which is

it, yes, or no? I will give you just thirty seconds in which to answer,"

and I timed him, thoroughly resolved to do as I had said.

Before the expiration of the time mentioned, Le Compte sat down, and

with a despairing shrug of the shoulders, said "Yes."

I immediately returned, sat down in front of him, and said, "Well, Le

Compte, now go ahead with your story like a man."

"What must it be like?" he asked innocently.

"What must it be like?" I repeated, aghast. "Why, you don't intend to

manufacture a story for me against this woman, do you?"

"Oh, no, no, never. But I must know first how bad it must be, when it is

worth three hundred dollars, which you call such great money?"

"Well," said I, all out of patience, "if you know of any occasion when

this woman has been with any man as his wife, or his mistress, and can

give names, dates, and places, and under what circumstances, and this

information on examination proves so reliable that we can get other

witnesses besides yourself--persons of credibility and reputation--to

testify to it, I will pay you three hundred dollars. Isn't that plain

enough?"

"Will you put it to paper?"

"No, sir, you have my word for it, that's all."

Le Compte tapped the floor with his delicate foot a moment, and I saw

the impostor was in real misery. He had a sort of affection for the

woman, which she had more than reciprocated. He could lean on the

strong, daring nature she possessed, and go to her with all his troubles

and disappointments and get help. She had promised him that, as soon as

she had mulcted Lyon of the hundred thousand dollars, he should share it

with her in his own beautiful Paris. All his self-interest laid in and

with the woman; but need for money was pressing, and there were a

million other women as impressible to his charms as she had been. Here

was an opportunity to make a few hundred dollars by betraying her; but

in doing so he still might not get the money, and she might at once

discover from what source the information had come, and he knew enough

about Mrs. Winslow to be sure that she dared any mode of revenge that

best suited her fancy, and he had a wholesome fear of her. I could see

that all these things were flitting through his mind, as plainly as the

reader can see them upon this printed page, and to some extent pitied

his weakness and indecision.

"Or," said I encouragingly, "as you undoubtedly know Mrs. Winslow

intimately, and are very much in her company, if you know of any

occasion when she had, while here in Rochester or in the vicinity, say

Batavia, Syracuse, or Port Charlotte, for instance, gone with some one

of her many favorites, and under an assumed name--Brown, Jones, or

anything of the kind--to a hotel where they had been assigned a room,

and had occupied it together for several hours, and you could put us on

track of persons of reliability who would be willing to come into court

and swear to such facts--I presume there are many persons who could and

would with whom you are acquainted--I would pay you the amount named at

once."

This was cutting pretty close to a tender subject, and before I had half

finished my remarks he started, and looked me in the face in a

suspicious, apprehensive manner, eyeing me closely until I had finished.

But my manner and looks betraying no knowledge on my part of any such

facts hinted at, he relapsed into a puzzled, nonplussed look that was

really ridiculous.

"No, no," he said slowly and cautiously. "I have no such valuable

evidence. That would be much more worth than a thousand dollars--much

more worth. But I can do what you first say, and rest me on the honor of

your word."

"Go on, then," said I.

"Well, we shall go back almost a year. I met first Mrs. Winslow at Port

Charlotte, when she was from Canada returning."

"Did she formerly live in Canada?" I asked.

"No, not for a great time; but has had much travel and friends there. I

first see her at Charlotte. I go there to take a boat. She comes from

the boat there. Lyon meets her, and I think her his wife, he is so much

happy. I like her so much that I do not take the boat. I follow her back

to the city here, and find her beautiful rooms, when I discover she is

not Lyon's wife, but his mistress; but I still have for her admiration,

and one day she comes to me for her future in clairvoyance."

"And then she became your mistress?" I inquired, smiling at his

earnestness.

"No, no, no--never!" he replied quickly, growing red as a rose; "I

became her _friend_!"

Le Compte did not know how near he came to expressing the truth while

endeavoring to avoid it, but continued:

"I became her friend, and we came to each other for advice. She has

great faith--great faith," repeated Le Compte, with much emphasis on the

expression, which seemed to please him, "in my clairvoyance powers. I

give her much comfort. She gives me great confidence of her affairs, and

shows me how rich Lyon makes her. I see her often--very often, at the

Hall and here in my apartments. She gives me much confidence of her

affairs still, and I am informed when she makes Canada some visits. She

goes much to Canada, and I ask her why? She does not tell me, but laughs

in my face, and shows me much money, which she ever brings back. I shake

my finger at her so (illustrating), and say to her: 'You cannot hide

from Le Compte,' which she answers: 'No, I will not. I go for money.

See!'--when she would shake many bills in my face--'I make him come

down, too!'"

"Did she give you the man's name?"

"I _got_ it," continued Le Compte proudly, "with much wine--_and_

clairvoyance!"

"Oh, confound your eternal clairvoyance!" said I. "I want the facts."

"But I got facts _with_ clairvoyance," persisted the imperturbable Le

Compte. "Little by little, patience by patience, at the end I got

confession from her----"

"Which was?"----

"Which was," continued Le Compte, taking his time, "that Mrs. Winslow

had got great power over a Toronto merchant with much wealth and great

family, by name Devereaux."

"How long had she known him?"

"I know not that--five, four, three years, I will think."

"Did you ever see this Devereaux?"

"Oh, no, no--never; but it is all certain that I speak. Here," continued

Le Compte, stepping nimbly to a secretary and producing a photograph,

which he handed to me, "here you will find the face of Devereaux. Many,

many times I have seen the color of his money."

"And does Mrs. Winslow visit Canada for the purpose of meeting this man

still?" I asked.

"Certain," he answered promptly; then, after a little pause, as if

doubtful of the propriety of what he was about to say, but finally

resolving to earn his money, if possible, "and she shall go there once