THE MYSTERY CLEARS
Godfrey's powers of recuperation have astonished me more than once,
and never more so than when I found him at the breakfast-table, as
fresh and rosy as though he had had a full night's sleep. But even I
felt better by the time the meal was over. It is wonderful what a cup
of coffee can do for a man!
"I 'phoned a message to Swain, as soon as I was up," Godfrey said,
"telling him, in your name, that we had the evidence to clear him, and
that Miss Vaughan was safe."
"I must go down to him," I said, "and start proceedings to set him
free. I'll get Simmonds to go with me before Goldberger, and then
before the magistrate. We ought to get an order of release at once."
"You've got something to do before that," Godfrey reminded me. "We're
to hear Miss Vaughan's story at ten o'clock. I'm taking it for
granted," he added, with a smile, "that I'll be welcome, as well as
Hinman."
"That doesn't need saying," I retorted, and ten minutes later, we
were on the way to Elmhurst.
There was a man on guard at the library door, but he allowed us to
pass when we gave our names, having evidently had his instructions
from Simmonds. In answer to Godfrey's question, he said that, so far
as he knew, no trace had been found of Silva.
We went on into the room, and found that some one, Simmonds
presumably, had closed the safe and swung the section of shelving back
into place before it. It was not locked, however, and I opened it and
went through its contents carefully, with the faint hope that the
money might have been thrust into some other compartment. But I found
no trace of it, and was replacing the contents, when a voice at the
threshold brought me to my feet.
"Mr. Lester!" it said, and I turned to behold a vision which made me
catch my breath--a vision of young womanhood, with smiling lips and
radiant eyes--a vision which came quickly toward me, with hands
outstretched.
"Miss Vaughan!" I cried, and took the hands and held them.
"Can you forgive me?" she demanded.
"For what?"
"For treating you so badly! Oh, I could see what you thought of me,
and I longed to tell you it was only make-believe, but I didn't dare!
I could see your grimace of disgust, when I fell on my knees beside
the chair yonder...."
"Miss Vaughan," I broke in, "whatever my sentiments may have been--and
I was an idiot not to suspect the truth!--they have all changed into
enthusiastic admiration. You were wiser and braver than all of us."
A wave of colour swept into her cheeks.
"I might add," I went on, "that I thought white robes becoming, but
they were not nearly so becoming as this gown!"
"It is of the last century!" she protested. "But anything is better
than that masquerade! And when--when...."
"I think I can get Swain free this afternoon," I answered. "I'm going
to try, anyway. Mr. Godfrey 'phoned him the good news the first thing
this morning. This is Mr. Godfrey, Miss Vaughan," I added, "and very
eager to shake hands with you."
"Very proud, too," said Godfrey, coming forward and suiting the action
to the word.
There was a step on the walk outside, and Dr. Hinman appeared at the door.
"Well!" he cried, coming in, his face beaming. "There's no need for me
to ask how my patient's doing!"
"I'm afraid you haven't got any patient, any more, doctor," I laughed.
"I'm afraid not," agreed Hinman. "I'll have to go back to my office
and wait for another one. But before I go, Miss Vaughan, I want to
hear the story. Mr. Lester promised me I should."
Miss Vaughan looked at me.
"We all want to hear it," I said; "how you came to suspect--how you
got the glove--everything."
Her face grew sober, and a shadow flitted across it.
"Suppose we sit down," she said, and just then the sentry at the door
saluted and Simmonds stepped into the room.
I saw him shake his head in answer to Godfrey's questioning look and
knew that Silva had not been found. Then I brought him forward to Miss
Vaughan and introduced him.
"Mr. Simmonds," I explained, "has been in charge of this case; and it
was he who arranged to watch the house, for fear some harm would
befall you...."
"I know," broke in Miss Vaughan, clasping Simmonds's hand warmly.
"Annie told me all about it this morning. I don't know how to thank
you, Mr. Simmonds."
"Oh, it wasn't me, especially," protested Simmonds, red to the ears.
"It was really Godfrey there, and Mr. Lester. They were worried to death."
"We _were_ rather worried," Godfrey admitted; "especially after we saw
you at that midnight fireworks party."
"You saw that?" she asked quickly; "but how...."
"Oh, we had seen the show every night for a week. It was its failure
to come off last night which first told us something was wrong."
"Well," said Miss Vaughan, with a deep breath, sitting down again and
motioning us to follow her example, "it seems to me that you have a
story to tell, too! But I'll tell mine first. Where shall I begin?"
"Begin," I suggested, "at the moment when you first suspected the
plot."
"That was when you were telling me of Fred's arrest. When you told me
of the handkerchief and then of the finger-prints, I knew that someone
was plotting against him. And then, quite suddenly, I thought of
something."
"You jumped up," I said, "as though you were shot, and ran to the
book-case over there and got down that album of finger-prints, and
found that Swain's were missing. That seemed to upset you completely."
"It did; and I will tell you why. My father, for many years, had been
a collector of finger-prints. All of his friends were compelled to
contribute; and whenever he made a new acquaintance, he got his
prints, too, if he could. He believed that one's character was
revealed in one's finger-prints, and he studied them very carefully.
It was a sort of hobby; but it was, for some reason, distasteful to
Señor Silva. He not only refused to allow prints to be made of his
fingers, but he pooh-poohed my father's theories, and they used to
have some terrific arguments about it. One night, after a particularly
hot argument, Señor Silva made the assertion that he could, by
hypnotic suggestion, cause his servant Mahbub to reproduce any
finger-prints he desired. Mahbub's finger-tips had been manipulated in
some way, when he was a child, so that they showed only a series of
straight lines."
"Yes," I said, "his prints were taken at the inquest."
"Father said that if Señor Silva could show him proof of that
assertion, he would never look at finger-prints again. Señor Silva
asked for a week in which to make a study of the prints, in order to
impress them upon his memory; at the end of that time, the test was
made. It was a most extraordinary one. Señor Silva, father, and I sat
at the table yonder, under the light, with the book of prints before
us. Mahbub was placed at a little table in the far corner, with his
back to us, and Señor Silva proceeded to hypnotise him. It took only a
moment, for he could hypnotise Mahbub by pointing his finger at him.
He said Mahbub was a splendid subject, because he had hypnotised him
hundreds of times, and had him under perfect control. Then he placed
an ink-pad on the table in front of him--nothing else. My father wrote
his name and the date upon the top sheet of a pad of paper, and Señor
Silva placed it before Mahbub. Then he sat down with us, selected a
page of prints, and asked us to concentrate our minds upon it. At the
end of a few moments, he asked me to bring the pad from before Mahbub.
I did so, and we found the prints upon it to be identical with those
on the page we had been looking at. My father touched them with his
finger and found that they were fresh, as the ink smeared readily. His
name was on the corner of the page, where he had written it. There
could be no doubt that in some way Mahbub had been able to duplicate
the prints.
"Señor Silva repeated the experiment with another set of prints and
then with another. I think there were six altogether, and every one of
them was successful."
"Was Swain's one of them?" asked Godfrey.
"No; but when Mr. Lester told me that Fred was suspected because of
those finger-prints, the thought flashed into my mind that if Señor
Silva and Mahbub could imitate those of other people, they could
imitate Fred's, too; and when I looked at the album and found that
sheet torn out, I was sure that was what had happened."
"And so you decided to stay in the house, to win Señor Silva's
confidence by pretending to become a convert, and to search for
evidence against him," I said. "That was a brave thing to do, Miss
Vaughan."
"Not so brave as you think," she objected, shaking her head. "I did
not believe that there would be any real danger, with the three
servants in the house. Only at the last did I realise the desperate
nature of the man...."
She stopped and shivered slightly.
"Tell us what happened," I said.
"It was on Sunday afternoon," she continued, "that I went to Señor
Silva and told him that I had decided to carry out my father's wish,
renounce the world, and become a priestess of Siva. I shall never
forget the fire in his eyes as he listened--they fairly burned into me."
"Ah!" said Godfrey. "So that was it!"
She looked at him inquiringly.
"Except upon one hypothesis," he explained, "that action on your part
would have embarrassed Silva, and he would have tried to dissuade you.
He had left him by your father's will this valuable place and a
million dollars. If money had been all he sought, that would have
satisfied him, and he would have tried to get rid of you. That he did
not--that his eyes burned with eagerness when you told him of your
decision--proves that he loved you and wanted you also."
A brighter colour swept into Miss Vaughan's cheeks, but she returned
his gaze bravely.
"I think that is true," she assented, in a low voice. "It was my
suspicion of that which made me hesitate--but finally I decided that
there was no reason why I should spare him and let an innocent man
suffer for him."
"Especially when you loved the innocent man," I added to myself, but
managed to keep the words from my lips.
"As soon as I told him of my decision," Miss Vaughan continued, "he
led me to the room where the crystal sphere is, placed me on the
divan, sat down opposite me, and began to explain to me the beliefs of
his religion. Meditation, it seems, is essential to it, and it was by
gazing at the crystal that one could separate one's soul from one's
body and so attain pure and profound meditation."
"Was that your first experience of crystal-gazing?" Godfrey asked.
"Yes; both he and my father had often tried to persuade me to join
them. They often spent whole nights there. But it seemed to me that
the breaking down of father's will was due to it in some way; I grew
to have a fear and horror of it, and so I always refused."
"The change in your father was undoubtedly directly traceable to it,"
Godfrey agreed. "During those periods of crystal-gazing, he was really
in a state of hypnosis, induced by Silva, with his mind bare to
Silva's suggestions; and as these were repeated, he became more and
more a mere echo of Silva's personality. That was what Silva desired
for you, also."
"I felt something of the sort, though I never really understood it,"
said Miss Vaughan; "and as I sat there on the divan that Sunday
afternoon, with his burning eyes upon me, I was terribly afraid. His
will was so much stronger than mine, and besides, I could not keep my
eyes from the crystal. In the end, I had a vision--a dreadful vision."
She pressed her hands to her eyes, as though it was still before her.
"The vision of your father's death?" I questioned.
She nodded.
"With Swain as the murderer?"
"How did you know?" she asked, astonished.
"Because he induced the same vision in me the next evening. But don't
let me interrupt."
"I don't know how long the séance lasted," she continued; "some hours,
I suppose, for it was dark when I again realised where I was. And
after dinner, there was another; and then at midnight he led me to the
roof and invoked what he called an astral benediction--a wonderful,
wonderful thing...."
Godfrey smiled drily.
"You were over-wrought, Miss Vaughan," he said, "and straight from a
spell of crystal-gazing. No wonder it impressed you. But it was really
only a clever trick."
"I realise, now, that it must have been a trick," she agreed; "but at
the time it seemed an unquestionable proof of his divine power. When
it was over, I had just sufficient strength of will remaining to tear
myself away from him and gain my own room and lock the door."
"You mean he tried to detain you?"
"Not with his hands. But I could feel his will striving to conquer
mine. Even after I was in my room, I could feel him calling me. In the
morning, I was stronger. I lay in bed until nearly noon, trying to
form some plan; but I began to fear that I must give it up. I realised
that, after a few more nights like the night before, I should no
longer have a will of my own--that what I was pretending would became
reality. I decided that I could risk one more day--perhaps two; but I
felt very weak and discouraged. You see, I did not know what to look
for, or where to look. I wanted evidence against him, but I had no
idea what the evidence would be. I wanted to search his room, but I
had not been able to, because he was scarcely ever out of it, except
when he was with me; and, besides, Mahbub was always squatting in the
little closet next to it.
"I got up, at last, and after breakfast he met me here in the library.
He suggested another séance, but I pleaded a headache, and he walked
with me about the grounds. I remembered that you were to come in the
evening, Mr. Lester, and I determined to leave you with him, on some
pretext, and search his room then. I told him you were coming, that I
had asked you to take charge of my affairs; and it was then he told me
of the legacy he believed my father had left him, adding that whether
the legacy should stand or not was entirely in my hands. Then I began
to feel his influence again, and managed to excuse myself and go
indoors.
"You know what happened in the evening, Mr. Lester. As soon as I left
you, I flew to his room, determined to search it at any cost. But I
was scarcely inside, when I heard the outer door open, and I had just
time to get behind the curtains in one corner, when someone entered.
Peering out, I saw that it was Mahbub. He looked about for a moment,
and then sat down on the divan, folded his feet under him, and fell
into a contemplation of the sphere. I scarcely dared to breathe. I was
always afraid of Mahbub," she added; "far more so than of Señor Silva.
About Señor Silva there was at least something warm and human; but
Mahbub impressed me somehow as a brother to the snake, he seemed so
cold and venomous."
"You knew he was dead?" I asked, as she paused.
"Yes; Annie told me," and she shuddered slightly.
"The cobra, too, is dead," added Godfrey. "I agree with you, Miss
Vaughan. There was a kinship between them--though the cobra turned
against him in the end. How long did he sit there?"
"I do not know--but it seemed an age to me. Finally, in despair, I had
made up my mind to try to steal away, when I heard steps in the entry.
Mahbub slipped from the divan and disappeared behind the curtains,
and then the door opened and Señor Silva and Mr. Lester entered. I
saw, at once, that there was to be another séance, and that I could
not escape, for Señor Silva sat down facing the corner where I was. I
could only brace myself against the wall and wait. It was a dreadful
ordeal. But it had its reward," she added, with a smile.
"And that was?" I asked.
"The discovery of the glove. Señor Silva suddenly switched on the
lights, and I knew that the séance was over; but he had some
difficulty in arousing you--the trance must have been a very deep
one--and finally, leaving you lying on the divan, he went to the wall,
drew aside the hangings, and pressed his hand against a panel. A
little door flew open, and I saw that there was a cupboard in the
wall. He filled a glass with some liquid, pulled the hangings into
place, and went back to you and made you drink it. It seemed to do you
good."
"Yes," I said; "it brought me around at once. And then?"
"And then, as soon as you went out together, I ran to the cupboard and
looked into it. But for a moment I was confused--I saw nothing which
seemed of any importance--some bottles and decanters and glasses, a
glass tray or two, a pile of rubber gloves. I couldn't understand. I
picked up one of the gloves and looked at it, but it was just an
ordinary glove. Then farther back, I saw some others--their
finger-tips were stained with ink--and then another, lying by itself.
I looked at it, I saw the patches on the finger-tips--I saw the
stains--and then I understood. I do not know how I understood, or
why--it was like a flash of lightning, revealing everything. And then,
as I stood there, with the glove in my hand, I heard Señor Silva
returning."
She paused a moment, and I could see the shiver which ran through her
at the recollection.
"It was not that I was afraid," she said; "it was that I seemed to be
lost. I let the draperies fall, ran to the divan and sat down before
the sphere. I could think of nothing else to do. I can still see his
astonished face when he entered and found me sitting there.
"'I was waiting for you,' I said, trying to smile. 'You remember I was
to have another lesson to-night.'
"'Yes,' he said, and looked at me, his eyes kindling.
"I was trembling inwardly, for suddenly I began to fear him; I knew
that I must keep my head, that I must not yield to his will, or I
would be swept away.
"'I thought Mr. Lester would never go,' I said.
"He came to the divan and sat down close beside me, and looked into my
eyes.
"'Did the time really seem so long?' he asked.
"'It seemed very long,' I said.
"He gazed at me for another moment, then rose quickly and turned on
the light.
"'Sit where you are,' he said, 'and I will sit here. Fix your eyes
upon the sphere and your mind upon the Infinite Mind--so shall great
wisdom come to you.'
"I felt my will crumbling to pieces; I closed my eyes and crushed the
glove within my hand, and thought of this man's villainy and of the
part I must play, if I were to defeat him. His voice went on and on,
but gradually I ceased to hear it--I was thinking of the glove, of
escape, of Fred...."
Yea, love is strong, I told myself, and it giveth to the dove the
wisdom of the serpent, else how had this child come victorious from
such an ordeal!
"I do not know how long I sat there," Miss Vaughan continued, "but
Señor Silva rose suddenly with an exclamation of impatience and
switched on the light.
"'There is something wrong,' he said, coming back and standing over
me. 'Some hostile influence is at work. What is it?'
"'I do not know,' I said. 'I cannot lose myself as I did last night.'
"'Something holds you to earth--some chain. Perhaps it is your own wish.'
"'No, no!' I protested. 'Let us try again.'
"He switched off the light and sat down facing me, and again I felt
his will trying to enter and conquer me. And again I clasped the
glove, and kept my mind upon it, thinking only of escape."
You can guess how we were leaning forward, listening breathless to
this narrative. I fancied I could see her sitting there in the
darkness, with Silva's evil influence visibly about her, but held at
bay by her resolute innocence, as Christian's shield of Faith turned
aside the darts of Apollyon. It was, indeed, a battle of good and
evil, the more terrible because it was fought, not with bodily
weapons, but with spiritual ones.
"At last, Señor Silva rose again," Miss Vaughan continued, "and turned
on the lights, and I shivered when I met his gaze.
"'You are defying me,' he said, very low. 'But I will break you yet,'
and he clapped his hands softly together.
[Illustration: "I knew that I was lost"]
"Mahbub appeared at the inner door, received a sharp order, and
disappeared again. A moment later, there was a little swirl of smoke
from the door of his room, and a sharp, over-powering odour, which
turned me faint.
"And then Señor Silva, who had been pacing, up and down the room,
stopped suddenly and looked at me, his face distorted.
"'Is it that?' he muttered. 'Can it be that?'
"And he strode to the curtain which hung before his secret cupboard
and swept it back.
"I knew that I was lost. I sprang for the outer door, managed to get
it open and set a foot in the hall, before he seized me. I remember
that I screamed, and then his hand was at my throat--and I suppose I
must have fainted," she added, with a little smile, "for the next
thing I remember is looking up and seeing Dr. Hinman."
I sat back in my chair with a long breath of relief. My tension during
the telling of the story had been almost painful; and it was not until
it was ended that I saw two other men had entered while Miss Vaughan
was speaking. I was on my feet as soon as I saw them, for I recognised
Goldberger and Sylvester.
"Simmonds telephoned me this morning that I was needed out here
again," Goldberger explained. "But first I want to shake hands with
Miss Vaughan."
"You have met Mr. Goldberger, Miss Vaughan," I said, as he came
forward, "but Dr. Hinman didn't tell you that he's the cleverest
coroner in greater New York."
"He doesn't really think so, Miss Vaughan," Goldberger laughed. "You
ought to read some of the things he's written about me! But I want to
say that I heard most of your story, and it's a wonder. About that
glove, now, Simmonds," he added, turning to the detective. "I'd like
to see it--and Sylvester here is nearly dying to."
"Here it is," said Simmonds, and took it from his pocket and passed it
over.
Goldberger looked at it, then handed it to Sylvester, who fairly
seized it, carried it to the door, and examined it with gleaming eyes.
Then, without a word, he took an ink-pad from his pocket, slipped the
glove upon his right hand, inked the tips of the fingers and pressed
them carefully upon a sheet of paper. From an inner pocket, he
produced a sheaf of photographs, laid them beside the prints, and
carefully compared them. Finally he straightened up and looked at us,
his face working.
"Do you know what this does, gentlemen?" he asked, in a voice husky
with emotion. "It strikes at the foundation of the whole system of
finger-print identification! It renders forever uncertain a method we
thought absolutely safe! It's the worst blow that has ever been
struck at the police!"
"You mean the prints agree with the photographs?" asked Godfrey, going
to his side.
"Absolutely!" said Sylvester, and mopped his face with a shaking hand.