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THE DOCTRINE OF CHANCE--A NIGHT AT THE GIRARD HOUSE,
PHILADELPHIA--AN INOFFENSIVE GENTLEMAN, MY ROOM-MATE--I
DISTURB HIS SLEEP--A QUEER TALE--NELLIE WILSON AND HER
UNCLE--WILLIAM WILSON, NELLIE'S DISSOLUTE COUSIN--FEARFUL
LOVE-MAKING--A RESCUE--A CALL TO DUTY--A DEAD MAN'S WILL
MISSING--STUDYING UP THE CASE WITH THE GREAT CRIMINAL LAWYER,
JUDGE S.--FATE INTERPOSES--A MYSTERIOUS AND PECULIAR
ADVERTISEMENT--AT THE CONTINENTAL HOTEL, WAITING AND
WATCHING--AN "APPEARANCE"--WILLIAM WILSON AGAIN--AN UPPER
ROOM, AND THE VILLAINS THEREIN--A PRIVATE CONFERENCE NOT ALL
SECRET--A FLASH OF VICTORY BEFORE UTTER DEFEAT--NOTES AND
DOCUMENTS EXCHANGED--BASE REJOICINGS--A FATAL NEGLECT--THE
SURPRISE--COMPLETE DISCOMFITURE--THE END ACCOMPLISHED--"COALS
OF FIRE,"--BUT THEY DO NO GOOD--A VIOLENT DEATH--HAPPY
CONSEQUENCES--THE PECULIAR ADVERTISEMENTS UNRAVELLED.
Coincidences in life and its various pursuits are perhaps governed by
some mysterious law, and are not always resolvable by the doctrine of
chance. The detective is not only brought into contact with all sorts
of people without the profession, but frequently finds himself in the
company of his mysterious fellow-craftsmen, to some purpose. An
advertisement among the "Personals" in the New York Herald had directed
me to Philadelphia, in the spring of 1857; or, rather, following the
thread of one by which I thought I might possibly unravel a mystery of
great importance to a client of mine, I had gone to Philadelphia; and
putting up at the Girard House, was compelled, on account of the
crowded state of the hotel, to take room for the night with a quiet,
inoffensive looking gentleman, whose appearance at times, however,
betokened to me that something was pressing upon his mind.
Not a little harassed by the mission I was on, I found myself unable to
sleep, and while pondering over this and that device for the next day's
proceedings in my mazy work, I was conscious that I constantly changed
position, rolling over in bed, etc., but as softly as possible, in
order to not awaken my fellow-lodger, whom I supposed to be sweetly
enjoying his dreams. The night had worn well on, when my companion
addressed me:--
"Friend, are you ill?"
"O, no,--why?"
"I have observed that you have not slept any yet to-night."
"Then you, too, have been awake the whole time?"
"Yes, fully."
"Let me ask, then, if you are unwell?"
"O, no; but business cares press upon me, of a somewhat serious nature."
And thus beginning, after a long period of cautious colloquy the fact
became developed to each that the other belonged to the fraternity of
detectives. My new friend had come from Cincinnati upon an errand which
he disclosed to me in part, and I had the happiness of making him, what
he was pleased to call, valuable suggestions, and which so proved in
the sequel, I believe. I had aided him, and he was ready to serve me if
possible. In so far as I properly might, I made him acquainted with my
business, and the end which I sought; told him of the advertisement in
the Herald, and how I interpreted it, and why I believed that I was on
the right track. He had an illustrative case in point, very like, in
many respects, the affair I had in hand; and inasmuch as a change in
the programme of my investigations took place in a day or two after, so
that my affair was dropped, and never pressed to its full development,
I will recall my friend's story here, as perhaps not less interesting
than mine might have been, had I carried out things to their possible
issue.
My friend's story was, in substance this: "Some years ago I formed the
acquaintance of a wealthy gentleman, residing in this city. His name we
will call Wilson, and his home was one of the most comfortable and
luxurious in the city. His wife had died some years before, and his
home was presided over by his very beautiful niece, Nellie Wilson, a
girl of about twenty years of age, who, with his only son, constituted
his 'family.' Miss Nellie was a most attractive person, tall,
symmetrically formed, with a wealth of beautiful hair. Her eyes of that
peculiar blue which is seldom seen in such richness as in hers, were
among the most beautiful; in fact, to not be too sentimental, and yet
to speak truth, I must say they were the most beautiful eyes I ever
looked into. Her complexion was faultless, and her manners, especially
in their quiet majesty, were more than faultless,--imposing and
elegant. A great prize, you see. Well, I must say, and so I will say,
friend, that if, when I first saw this Miss Nellie, I had not had at
home one of the best wives in all my State, or in this whole country, I
should have been obliged, I fear, to let myself go distracted over that
embodiment of female perfections, Miss Nellie; and as 'twas, I confess
I didn't forget her soon; and 'pears to me, if this is really I that's
talking, I haven't quite forgot her yet!--how is that, friend?"
"Well," said I, in reply, "it would seem so to me, if I'd let it, but I
won't trouble you with that. Go on with your story, for I am all
interest."
Resuming, he went on to say that it wasn't strange that such a girl as
Nellie, whose disposition was as sweet as her beauty was great, had
captivated the kindliest affections of her uncle, to the disparagement
of the son, who was an eyesore to his father, being exceedingly
dissipated. His dissolute life had deeply tried his father, whose
blasted hopes of his son's ever becoming reformed had only tended to
deepen his regard and tenderness towards Miss Nellie. In fact, the son
and father lived, if not in a sort of perpetual petty warfare, in very
uncongenial relations.
Charles Wilson, the father, was a sort of _bon vivant_ (bating the use
of liquors), and took great pleasure in inviting to his table such
persons as pleased his fancy. Inviting me one day, I went, and enjoyed
a most capital dinner, and with it an hour or more of very pleasing
sociality. Mr. Wilson had the habit of retiring to rest for an hour
after his dinner, and bowed himself out of the room with due
explanations. I occupied myself in conning over some books in the
studio, which was divided from the adjoining apartment by sliding
doors. Miss Nellie had withdrawn soon after dinner to see, I suppose,
after sundry household duties. A little weary of my solitude, I fell
into a sort of doze in the capacious and inviting arms of a luxurious
"study-chair," out of which I was awakened by voices which evidently
proceeded from the adjoining room.
Our dinner had been partaken of at a late hour, and by this time the
evening had advanced well on, so that the uproar of the street had
ceased, leaving that quiet silence which one can almost feel by the
touch, and rending audible almost the least sound. I was not obliged to
listen, but was rather forced to hear all that was going on in the next
room. It must have been, I saw, the voice of William Wilson, the son,
that had broken my reverie, and as I discovered something husky and
gross in it, I concluded he was intoxicated, muttering,--
"Hear me _now_, Nellie! Curse you! You--_know_--I--love--you,"--drawing
out his words with the peculiar utterance of a drunken, but a very
earnest man. "Yes, I worship the very dust under your feet. Your beauty
makes me crazy. It transports me in imagination into fairy regions.
Yes, it's the fairy regions themselves, in its complete self!"
"Away with your ridiculous praises; I will have none of your
compliments now. Why do you continue to persecute me? Have I not made
my decision plain to you? I cannot recall it. I will not change," she
replied.
"Dear Nellie, do have mercy!--don't say so! If you but knew how utterly
I worship you! I have no thoughts but of you! Every pulse of my being
beats for you! O, I beg you, sweet, blessed idol!--do, do smile once
upon me!" the intoxicated brute responded.
[Illustration: RESCUE OF NELLIE WILSON.]
"William, you are grossly intoxicated. How dare you come to me thus?"
"My own cousin Nellie, drunk or sober, I will be yours; and by all the
gods, you _shall_ be mine!"
"I pity you, William, but I beg you to leave me now, or I must and will
leave your presence."
"Never! my beautiful cousin, until you own that you love me. I would
barter all the hopes I ever had of future happiness for one moment of
your love. I could stand a whole year gazing in rapture into your sweet
face. O, darling one! blessed Nellie! swear that you _will_ be mine!"
Thus the young fellow went on, working himself into a great passion.
"Mister--Wilson!" here broke in Miss Nellie, "unless you leave the
room, or let me, I'll call for help."
"No, you shall not! I know that my father loves you better than he ever
did me, and I know that in his will he has left you nearly all his
property, and left me with next to nothing. So much you have won upon
him, and to add to my misery you scorn my love; but there's no power on
earth to forbid you being mine, and you shall be!"
There was a movement in the room, as if Miss Nellie was proceeding to
some action.
"Nellie, you shall not avoid me so. I tell you, you shall be mine. O,
dearest! own that you love me! Come, let me fold you to my breast!"
There was a slight, fitful scream, and I heard the delirious fellow
rushing towards her; and feeling her peril, I jumped to the sliding
doors, pushed them apart just as the drunken wretch had wrapped his
arms about the girl. But when he saw me he let go his grasp, and with a
maddened expression on his face, hastened from the room. I caught the
frightened girl in my arms, and bore her to the sofa; but it was some
time before she recovered from her swoon.
Fearing that this might not be the last wrong which the drunken son
would inflict upon that beautiful girl, I felt it nothing less than my
duty to inform his father of the son's outrageous course; and William
was banished from the house.
Not long after I left for the West, and was absent a week or so. The
night of my return I received a call from Judge S----, the great
criminal advocate, who told me that he had been hunting me all day,
exclaiming, "And thank a blessed Providence I have found you at last."
"You are a little excited, judge; what's the matter?"
"I am in a great perplexity, and I want your aid to get out of it, for
I know that you knew George Wilson--didn't you?"
"_Knew_ him? Yes, and know him perfectly well. He's a great friend of
mine, I'm glad to believe."
"Hadn't you heard that he is dead?"
"Dead! It isn't possible--is it?"
"Yes; died night before last."
"How sudden! Is there any suspicion of something wrong about his death?"
"No; for he had been unwell for quite a while. He died of heart
disease. You, perhaps, don't know that I was his attorney; but you do
know how wretchedly he lived with that infamous son, William. A few
months ago I drew Mr. Wilson's will. He had been so long complaining
that he began to fear that he could not last long, and wanted to make
all things secure for his niece, Nellie, who, by the will, was made
legatee of nearly all his property, he leaving but a small annuity to
his son--and--"
"But, here let me ask you if William knows about the provisions of the
will?"
"Not that I know, for a surety; but let's see. I do remember that when
the will was witnessed, we were disturbed by a slight noise, as of one
disposed to obtrude; but I saw no one."
"You may be sure that it was William whom you heard, for I chance to
know that he understood the chief contents of the will;" and then I
recited to him what I had overheard William say to Miss Nellie.
"This may be a thing in point," said the attorney, when I had
concluded; "but let me finish what I have to tell you. The will was
placed in my care, and I enveloped it and placed it in my private
drawer. When I heard of Mr. Wilson's death, I reverted to my drawer,
took out the envelope, but found no will within it--only a blank piece
of paper there! You can hardly judge of my thrilling surprise."
"Ah! some scamp, or interested person then, had played you a trick?"
"Precisely. I was so taken aback that I was quite nonplussed--more than
'thunder struck.' But after a while I recovered my self-possession, and
began to revolve in my mind the proper course to pursue under the
circumstances. As good luck had it, I was alone, and nobody knew my
discomfiture."
"Do you entertain any special suspicions of anybody?"
"I am at a loss whom to suspect; but you give me a valuable hint,
perhaps, in what you have related. It seems very probable that William
Wilson could give me light upon the matter, if so disposed.
Nevertheless, I feel certain that it was impossible for him to get
access to my drawer."
"But you have several clerks?"
"Yes, five; but I have full confidence in each of them. None of these
knew what the envelope contained, for I never confide to anybody more
than I think he has need to know; and of the existence of the will none
of my clerks had any occasion to be apprised. I made the loss known to
no one; but locked up my drawer, and plunged into my business in my
usual manner."
"You were wise in so doing. Did you notice anything at all disturbed in
your desk?"
"Nothing. It must have been carefully manipulated, and opened by a
skilful hand."
"And on reflection, you have no just reason to entertain suspicion of
any of the clerks?"
"No. I have studied them closely, but can see nothing unusual, nothing
guilt-like in the manner of any of them. But thus outwitted, as soon as
I heard of your re-appearance in the city, the thought flashed upon me
that perhaps you could unravel the mystery."
"Well, now I have your story, I'll see what I can do. Something tells
me that that will can be found. Do you believe in Fate? Sometimes I
have premonitions which come as suddenly as lightning, and prove in the
end of worth. I guess I shall be able to serve you."
After the usual leave-taking, the attorney departed, and I leaned back
in my chair, and threw my feet listlessly upon the table in the room,
and set about conjuring up schemes. A score of plans flitted through my
mind; but the case was a perplexing one, and I knew not which plan to
adopt for action. But here Fate again; for in the midst of my greatest
distraction, I chanced to note on the table a copy of the New York
Mercury, of date a day or two before, which I picked up for diversion,
and running almost unwittingly over a column of advertisements, my eye
lighted upon this:--
"LET THE SEEKER AFTER KNOWLEDGE TAKE HEED. _Will will be
pleased to know the_ WILL _of the unwilling, at nine o'clock,
Monday night, next? for success and joy, perhaps, await him._