DR. JERCE EXPLAINS
Ackworth and Clarice looked at one another dumfounded, and Dr. Jerce,
with considerable amazement, looked at them. Finally, the eyes of all
three rested on the object picked up by the girl. It outwardly
appeared to be a snuffbox, and, with its surface of dull gold,
wherein the amethystine fern was delicately set, looked an exquisite
specimen of the jeweller's art. But to Jerce there seemed nothing
about it to startle the young people. Yet Anthony appeared grave and
Clarice even frightened.
"One would think you had picked up a serpent," said Jerce, jestingly;
"what is there about that snuffbox which frightens you?"
"The Purple Fern!" she replied, pointing to the amethysts.
As the doctor still seemed to be puzzled, Ackworth explained. "Do you
not remember those murders of a year ago?"
"Murders? Oh, er--yes. There was much in the papers about them, but I
read the public journals very little. All my time is taken up with
medical works. Just refresh my memory, will you, Ackworth? The dead
bodies were stamped with a fern, weren't they?"
"Yes--on the forehead. Seven people were stabbed to the heart. One in
Kensington Gardens, one in the Strand, one in a house at Hampstead,
and one--"
"Yes! yes! I remember now," interrupted Jerce, impatiently, "but the
murderer was caught and hanged, if I forget not."
"_One_ murderer was caught," said Anthony, with emphasis, "but he had
accomplices, whose names he refused to reveal."
"Really. But there have been no more murders since."
"No. For over a year they have ceased; but this," Ackworth pointed to
the golden box, "and the warning received by Mr. Horran, look as
though the accomplices who were not caught intend to begin another
series of crimes."
Jerce looked confounded. "What's that you say, about Horran having
received a warning?" he asked.
Before Ackworth could reply, Clarice drew the attention of the two men
to the box, which she had opened. It was divided into two
compartments, one of which was empty, while the other was filled with
a silken pad, moistened with purple ink.
"Look!" cried Miss Baird, aghast, as well she might be. "This is the
very box which contained the stamp for impressing the purple fern on
the forehead of the victims. Here is the pad, but the stamp has gone.
Oh, Anthony, how did this come here? The letter, too, and--"
"What letter?" asked Jerce, soothing her agitation, while Ackworth
took over the box to examine it.
"It's not exactly a letter," said Clarice, striving to appear calm,
"only Uncle Henry found an envelope outside his window yesterday. It
contained a sheet of paper stamped,--but Mr. Ackworth can show it to
you."
"Here it is," remarked Anthony, taking the envelope from his pocket,
and passing it to the now grave doctor, "and now this box has been
found, it seems to me that Mr. Horran is in danger of death."
Jerce examined the picture of the fern, turned and twisted the
envelope to see if there was any address or postmark, and looked
attentively at the dainty box. "Humph!" said he, cautiously, "the
assassin must be a man of taste and culture, since he designed such a
receptacle for his india-rubber stamp, and uses such costly
stationery."
"A man," echoed Clarice, with a sudden idea, "the assassin may not be
a man at all. That box and paper look as though a woman--"
"No," interrupted the doctor, decisively, "the person who dropped this
gold box here is a man. And without doubt he is connected with those
wretches who used the purple fern to stamp their handiwork. Yes," he
spoke half to himself, "there certainly must be a gang."
"Of course," chimed in Ackworth, quickly, "the man who was caught
defied the authorities to stamp out the criminals. He admitted that he
had three accomplices--"
"Two, I remember now," broke in Clarice, "two."
"Well, then, he admitted that he had two accomplices, but refused to
betray their names or hiding places. Also, he warned the Government
that they would avenge his death; but for the last twelve months they
have not done so. Now," Ackworth pointed to the box and the warning
missive with great significance, "we must take steps to save Mr.
Horran's life," he ended, decisively.
"Certainly! Certainly," agreed Jerce. "What's to be done?"
"I'll go at once to the local police."
"No, I should not do that, Mr. Ackworth. It will be better to come
with me to London to-night and report the case at Scotland Yard."
"But in the meantime, Uncle Henry may be killed."
"Chalks can stop with him day and night, until a detective arrives."
"A detective!" echoed Clarice, in dismay, "and in this house."
"Why not?" asked Jerce, quietly. "We must take strong measures. I see
no reason why Horran should be killed, as he is not a wealthy man; and
this gang always selected their victims, both men and women, from rich
people. Perhaps to supply these luxuries." He touched the valuable box
and expensive envelope. "But certainly the man in grey means to kill
Horran, else why the warning?"
"The man in grey" asked Ackworth, inquiringly.
"Ferdy told me about that," said Clarice, quickly. "I was going to ask
you about the man. Why did he search your pockets?"
"I did not know at the time," said the doctor, gravely, "but I know
now. Come this way." He walked into the drawing-room through the
window. "We must speak softly, so that no one may overhear."
"But we are quite safe here," said Clarice, as Anthony closed the
window; "why are you afraid doctor?"
"Walls have ears, my dear Miss Baird, and the remaining man of the
triumvirate is clever and cunning."
"The remaining man," said Ackworth; "then another of the three is
dead?"
Jerce nodded and sat down quietly. He looked somewhat upset. "It is a
very unpleasant business," he said, anxiously, "and I am to blame in
not having allowed Ferdinand to inform the police about the assault
made on me the other night. Had the man in grey been arrested, this
warning or threat might not have come. Also the fact of the box with
the purple fern would have ensured his hanging, as one of the gang who
committed those cruel murders. I am much to blame. All I can say is,
that not until I returned to Harley Street on that night did I guess
why the man in grey wanted to search my pockets."
"And why did he?" asked Clarice, who had been listening to this
explanation with a puzzled look.
"That's a long story."
"Then begin at the beginning," said Ackworth, impetuously, "for I want
to know everything so that I can see my way."
"To what, Mr. Ackworth?"
"To protecting Mr. Horran, and getting this blackguard arrested."
Jerce nodded approvingly. "I shall lend you all the assistance I can,
Mr. Ackworth," said he, firmly. "Unless this man is caught, he will be
a veritable scourge to society."
"The story--the story!" cried Clarice, with impatience.
"It is, indeed, a story; more like romance than real life," said
Jerce, quickly. "You know, Miss Baird, that I have a consulting room
in Tea Street, Whitechapel."
"Yes, Mr. Horran told me that also," said Anthony. "You physic poor
people for nothing."
"I do. I earn so much money in the West End that I think it is only
right to use my talents for the poor. We must do what good we can in
this world, you know, Mr. Ackworth. I don't set up for being a
philanthropist, but in my humble way I do what good I can. Well,
then," he resumed, quickly, seeing that Clarice was growing impatient
again, "I was there--in Tea Street--some two months ago, and attended
on a young man, who was dying of consumption. He appeared to be
clever, refined, and intelligent, and, for that miserably poor
quarter, his room was furnished with great taste and somewhat
expensively. He seemed to be absolutely alone, and I did what I could
to save his life. All my skill was of no avail, and he died. As I had
refused to receive a fee, he gave me a sealed envelope, and told me to
carry it constantly upon my person."
"Why?" asked Clarice, wonderingly.
"I'll tell you later. The dying man also warned me that if I was
attacked by a fellow with a criss-cross scar on his left cheek, to
open the envelope. Then the man died and was buried. I did not attach
much importance to the sealed letter, and--"
"Didn't you open it?" asked the girl, eagerly.
"Not until the man in grey attacked me."
"I should have opened it at once," she said, quickly.
Jerce smiled. "Eve's curiosity," he answered; "however, I am not a
woman, so I refrained from unsealing the envelope, and after a time I
slipped it, with some other papers, into my safe, and thought no more
about the matter. But when this grey man attacked me the other night,
the incident was recalled to my mind, but not," added Jerce, with
emphasis, "not until Ferdinand told me that he had seen a man in grey
clothes with a scar on his cheek. I then returned to London and opened
the envelope. I found therein a paper containing a name and address."
"What were they?" asked Anthony, who was listening attentively.
"Alfred Osip, 14, Rough Lane, Stepney. Also there were a few lines,
stating that the man who wrote them--my consumptive patient--and Osip
were the surviving members of the Purple Fern gang, and that if Osip's
room in Stepney were searched, papers proving the guilt of all would
be found. Well, then, Mr. Ackworth, one man has been hanged, another
has died of consumption, and the third, Alfred Osip, is the person who
attacked me on that terrace, and no doubt, in the struggle, dropped
this golden box, which at one time undoubtedly contained the
india-rubber stamp used to mark the victims."
"I see," said Clarice, "but why should Osip attack you, doctor?"
Jerce looked at her in surprise. "My dear, you are usually quicker in
seeing things," he said, rebukefully. "Of course, Osip in some way
knew that his dying accomplice had betrayed him, and that I carried
the sealed letter--as he thought--on my person. That was why he
searched. I should have had him arrested, when Ferdinand suggested
going for the police; but I never dreamed that the wretch was
connected with the Purple Fern gang. However, I have made what amends
I can. I went at once to Scotland Yard, and told the authorities what
I have told you. Now, this warning to Horran--undoubtedly sent by
Osip--and this box, will be valuable evidence. He may be caught
red-handed, if he attempts the murder. But you can see now, Mr.
Ackworth, why I suggest that you should not inform the local police.
Osip is cunning and dangerous, so it will be advisable for us to get a
detective from London to see into the matter. I fear the Crumel police
may bungle the business. I return to London this afternoon--or, to be
precise, this evening, so I shall at once communicate this new
discovery to the Scotland Yard authorities."
Ackworth nodded. "I think your plan is the best, Doctor," he said, in
a meditative voice, "only I hope this brute will not murder Mr. Horran
in the meantime."
"I suggest that Chalks should remain constantly with Mr. Horran."
"Will not that arouse Mr. Horran's suspicions?" asked Anthony. "After
all, in his delicate state of health, it will not do to let him know
that he is in danger of death."
"Uncle Henry knows already," said Clarice, impetuously. "The discovery
of the envelope gave him a shock--he said so, and wanted to see you,
doctor. I expect the sight of the fern recalled the murders to him at
once. I had an idea that the fern was familiar to me, but until Mr.
Ackworth refreshed my memory, I could not be sure."
"I'll speak to Chalks," said Jerce, rising, "but it will be just as
well that no one else in the house should know about the matter,
and----"
"There's one who knows," said a voice, coming from a distant alcove,
and Ferdy's head appeared over the back of a deep leather armchair,
which faced towards a window.
The doctor started and looked displeased. "Ferdinand," he said, in an
angry voice, "why did you listen to what does not concern you?"
"I think it concerns me a great deal," said Ferdy, coolly, and came
forward into the full light of the room, very pale, and with ruffled
hair. "I went to sleep in that chair, and woke up at the sound of your
voices. I listened, half unconsciously, and then, when the story
became interesting, I listened with all my ears. As the chair-back is
towards you, I expect you did not see me."
"I wish you had come out, Ferdy," said Clarice, much annoyed, as she
recalled her conversation with Ackworth, "how long have you been
sleeping?"
"Not very long. I came in through the window, when you were out on the
terrace."
Ackworth looked hard at Ferdy to see if he was lying, but could only
make out that the young man looked extremely upset. He remarked upon
it with some dryness, and Baird turned on him at once with the
fractiousness of a spoilt child. "That story has made me quite sick,"
said he, restlessly. "I don't want to be murdered in my bed."
"The warning was not sent to you," said Clarice, contemptuously.
"If it had been, I'd have gone to the police station right off. I wish
you had let me go on that night, doctor."
"I wish I had," said Jerce, regretfully. "However, it's too late now,
and we must do the best we can. Don't say a word about this to anyone,
Ferdinand."
"I jolly well won't. I don't wish to be mixed up with these horrid
things," said Baird. "I'm going upstairs to lie down now. I was sleepy
before with walking, but now I'm quite sick with--"
"Sleepy with walking," whispered Clarice, drawing close to him.
"Ferdy, you have been drinking in the Savoy Hotel. Your eyes are red
and your cheeks are pale. You have been--"
"Oh, leave me alone," said Ferdy, rudely, and twitching his sleeve
from Clarice's hand, he abruptly left the room.
Anthony bit his lip. "That young monkey deserves a kicking," he said,
sharply; "if he were not your brother, Clarice, I should break his
neck."
Dr. Jerce started. Already the girl had called the man by his
Christian name, and now the man was returning the compliment. Clarice
coloured with genuine annoyance, as Jerce was the last man to whom she
wanted the secret of her engagement revealed. The doctor looked
sharply from one to the other, but, saying nothing, walked towards the
door, with official composure. Clarice did not know if he guessed the
truth, or if he deemed the interchange of familiar names mere slips of
the tongue. Jerce's face was inscrutable.
"Will you come with me to see our patient?" he asked Clarice,
politely.
"Certainly, doctor. Please remain here, Mr. Ackworth." She cast a side
glance at Jerce to see if he noted the stiff address, but he made no
sign. "I shall return almost directly."
Anthony looked puzzled, as he could not understand why Clarice had
coloured when speaking to the doctor, and was perfectly unaware that
Jerce had hinted at a proposal. However, as the presence of a third
person did not permit of an explanation, he merely bowed his
acquiescence. Clarice looked at her lover for one moment in a
hesitating manner, then hastily followed the doctor.
She caught up with him at the door of Mr. Horran's bedroom, and they
entered without speaking. As usual--since Wentworth had last seen the
patient--the French window was wide open. Jerce immediately shut it
sharply.
"I have told you a dozen times to keep this window closed," he said,
severely, to Chalks.
"I don't open it, sir," protested the valet. "Dr. Wentworth--"
"He has his views and I have mine," said Jerce, imperiously. "Mr.
Horran is my patient, and Dr. Wentworth is merely called in, as a
local practitioner, to act while I am absent. The window must be kept
closed day and night. Do you hear?"
"Yes, sir," said Chalks, sulkily. "I think master is waking, sir."
Both Jerce and Clarice turned towards the bed, and saw that Horran was
sitting up. He smiled in a dreamy way, when he caught sight of his old
friend, but seemed disinclined to talk. Jerce felt the man's pulse,
and listened to the beating of his heart. Then he produced an
ophthalmoscope, and examined the eyes, turning up the lids delicately
with his fingers. After a few minutes he drew back with a puzzled
expression and shook his head, while Horran, in a semiconscious
condition, sank back on his pillow.
"Well?" asked Clarice, eagerly.
Jerce shrugged his shoulders. "As usual, I can say nothing," he
replied, in a low voice. "I can find no trace of optic-neuritis, and
the visual acuity is normal. On my next visit, when Wentworth is
present, I shall make a more precise examination."
"What is to be done?"
"Nothing at present. I never met with a more interesting, or more
perplexing case in all my experience. I would give much to know the
true cause of these symptoms. I must return to town by the three
o'clock train," concluded the doctor, glancing at his watch.
"No!" said a strong voice from the bed, and there they saw Horran,
sitting up, apparently wide awake. The sudden change was one quite
characteristic of his mysterious disease. "No," repeated the sick man,
with an anxious glance at Jerce, "you and I must have a talk, Daniel.
Things must be settled between us."
"Yes, yes," said Jerce, good-naturedly; then sank his voice to address
Clarice. "He apparently wants to talk about his will. Leave me alone
with him. Take Chalks with you."
Clarice kissed her guardian, but he took no notice of her, as his eyes
were steadily fixed on the doctor's strong, calm face. "Things must be
settled between us," repeated Horran, as Clarice and Chalks departed.