THE MAN ON THE COUCH.
Mercedes Danton was not only herself convinced that her brother was a
murderer, but she had convinced him of his own guilt. Doubtful at first,
and yet half-believing that he might have unconsciously committed the
act which deprived Ramon Orizaba of life, and later, aided by the
reasoning of the detective, assured that he could not have killed him
without knowing it, he was now thrown back into a worse condition of
mind than ever, for here was one--his own beloved and loving sister--who
saw him do the deed.
When she ceased speaking, his mind seemed to drift into a stupor from
which he was aroused a moment later by feeling a heavy hand on his
shoulder.
It was Nick Carter who touched him, and Mercedes discovered the presence
of “Mr. Parsons” at the same instant.
She leaped to her feet and confronted him with flashing eyes, for sorrow
gave place to anger, and all the maternal instinct of woman, which is
aroused quite as thoroughly in the heart of a sister when she is
fighting for a brother as for a mother when she fights for a child--all
that wonderful fighting and enduring quality with which God has endowed
womankind, rose up within her to battle against the peril in which she
believed her brother stood at that instant when his secret became the
property of a third person.
“You heard me!” she gasped. “You heard everything that I said?”
“Yes,” said Nick. “I heard everything;” but the kindly look in his eyes
and the subdued voice in which he spoke convinced her that, at least, he
was not immediately to be feared, and she sank back upon the bench and
buried her face in her hands again.
Suddenly she raised her head and with a quick motion leaned toward him.
“You--you knew about it--before,” she whispered tentatively.
“Yes,” he replied. “I thought I did. Now I am sure that I did.”
“Then--you saw--I mean--he did not chloroform you---- Ah! You were not
unconscious. You saw--the things--that I have--described.
You--saw--them--yourself!”
“Mercedes,” interrupted Danton, “are you mad? What do you mean,
sister?”
“Wait,” said Nick sternly. “Sit over there beside your sister, Danton,
and whatever is said, don’t you speak at all. Your sister saw much more
than she has described, as you will presently discover. It is a
fortunate thing that I overheard this conversation between you, for
through its revelations we will get at the truth. Sit down, Danton, and
wait.”
Then he turned to Mercedes.
“Miss Danton,” he said kindly, “you are overwrought, but you are brave,
and tender, and true. You love your brother, even though now you believe
him to be guilty of a horrible crime--even though you believe it on the
evidence of your own senses, than which, it would seem there could be no
better. But yet, there are times when our own senses deceive us most
outrageously, as I shall presently prove to you. Yours have deceived
you. You saw that murder committed, and you were paralyzed with terror
at the spectacle. Has it occurred to you that your perceptions might
have been dulled, or have become distorted by reason of the same
terrors?”
She shook her head in a slow negative.
“Yet,” continued Nick, “I will presently prove to you that you know
positively that your brother did not commit that act.”
“Oh, sir, if you only can. But it is impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible. Things are only improbable. This one is not even
an improbability. Now, follow me closely. When we--your brother and
I--entered the rose-garden an hour ago, and I was presented to you,
where did you honestly think we had come from?”
“I did not know. I had no thought about it save that you had been out
somewhere together; but I thought I understood the reason for that.”
“Precisely. You mean that you supposed that we had gone out of this
house together this morning, do you not?”
“Certainly.”
“It did not occur to you that I had just come from New York, and, in
fact, had never set foot upon this estate before?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew better than that. I beg, sir, that you will not attempt
to deceive me. I will appreciate everything you would do for my brother,
but do not think that I can be deceived.”
“I think you have been deceived and now I am endeavoring to set you
right. You say you knew that I had not just come here from New York.
Tell me exactly why you think you knew that.”
“Because I saw you before.”
“Ah! Now, are you sure that it was I whom you saw? Did you see me
sufficiently plainly to identify me?”
“N-n-no. I did not see your face; but it could have been nobody else
whom I saw.”
“You think so? We will see, for I understand now exactly how you have
made an awful mistake. Was it on the couch in your brother’s room where
you think you saw me? No, let me put the question differently: When you
were looking into that room through the half-open door, and saw the
terrible scene you have just described, were you conscious that there
was a person--a third person in that room?”
“Yes.”
“And where was that third person?”
“Stretched upon the couch, apparently sleeping.”
“And when you saw me in the garden with your brother a little while ago,
you naturally supposed that I was the same person you had seen asleep on
the couch in your brother’s room? Is that it?”
“Yes; but there is also another reason.”
“Indeed, what is that?”
“I know that there were three persons who came into the house some time
after midnight, and I know that those three persons went to my brother’s
rooms.”
“Excellent. Now we are getting at it. How did you know that?”
“I saw them from my window.”
“Describe them as you saw them.”
“My brother came up the walk first, and alone. I think he must have
stopped on the piazza, for I did not hear him come up the stairs,
although I listened.”
“Well! and what next?”
“Soon after that I saw Ramon Orizaba and a stranger approach the house
together. That stranger I now suppose to be yourself.”
“Precisely. And did you again listen to discover if they came up the
stairs?”
“Yes. I thought that all three came up together and went into the room.”
“Now, what was it that called you from your room, so that you happened
to be passing your brother’s door at the moment when the sights you saw
within held your attention?”
“Nothing at all. I was merely restless. I knew from his manner of
walking that my brother was intoxicated. I also saw that Ramon Orizaba
was in a condition that was not much better, and I naturally supposed
the same thing of the third person. I knew they had gone into my
brother’s rooms, and I wished to assure myself that they were not
quarreling.”
“Now tell me what was the first discovery you made inside your brother’s
room. What was the very first thing you saw which attracted your
attention?”
“I saw him. He was standing at the couch with his back toward me, and he
was leaning over the person who was lying on the couch--yourself.”
“We will say that it was I, for the present, if it pleases you, although
I was at that time in my own bed in the city of New York. Now what was
your brother doing?”
“I did not know. He had a bottle in his hand--an ordinary four-ounce
vial.”
“The bottle which you afterward supposed contained chloroform?”
“Yes.”
“And your supposition was that he had been administering it to the
person who was lying on the couch?”
“In the light of what I saw subsequently--yes.”
“Now, when he turned away from the man on the couch, did you see his
face plainly? I want you to be sure about this. You say it was your
brother; I want to know if you saw your brother’s face and so
recognized it.”
“I did not see it plainly; no.”
“Was not the room lighted?”
“Very dimly. There was only one incandescent bulb turned on, and that
was in the adjoining room--not in that one.”
Nick turned to Danton.
“I believe you assured me that all the lights were turned on when you
awoke. Are you certain about that?”
“Absolutely positive,” was the quick reply, for Danton was now leaning
forward in intense excitement, since he had caught the drift of Nick
Carter’s questions.
The detective turned again to Mercedes.
“The light was, then, very dim,” he said. “Now, if you could not see the
man’s face clearly, can you give me any good reason for believing that
it was your brother whom you saw with the bottle in his hand?”
“Only that I felt positive that it was my brother,” said Mercedes, now
beginning to stare in amazement, for she also was beginning to
understand.
“Did this man whom you saw wear a coat?” asked Nick.
“Yes. He was fully dressed.”
“Was it a dress coat?”
“No. I do not think so. I remember thinking afterward that Reginald must
have changed his coat and waistcoat after entering the house, for I
noticed when he came up the walk that he wore a low, white waistcoat and
his dress suit. When I saw him with the bottle in his hand--or the
person whom I did see with a bottle in his hand, wore an ordinary coat
and a dark vest.”
“Like what Reginald is wearing now?”
“No. Dark. Quite dark. Almost black, or quite so in that light.”
“When he turned away from the man on the couch, did he at once approach
the man in the chair--Orizaba?”
“Yes.”
“And during all the time you were there at the door, while the man whom
you supposed to be your brother was using the chloroform and the
needle--while he was murdering Orizaba--could you still see the third
man, on the couch?”
“Certainly.”
“Then, Miss Danton, your brother is guiltless, for Reginald Danton was
unconscious, on the couch, when the murder was committed.”