In eight days from the date of his second interview with Mrs. Gallilee,
Mr. Le Frank took possession of his new bedroom.
He had arranged to report his proceedings in writing. In Teresa’s state
of mind, she would certainly distrust a fellow-lodger, discovered in
personal communication with Mrs. Gallilee. Mr. Le Frank employed the
first day after his arrival in collecting the materials for a report. In
the evening, he wrote to Mrs. Gallilee--under cover to a friend, who was
instructed to forward the letter.
“Private and confidential. Dear Madam,--I have not wasted my time and my
opportunities, as you will presently see.
“My bedroom is immediately above the floor of the house which is
occupied by Miss Carmina and her nurse. Having some little matters of
my own to settle, I was late in taking possession of my room. Before the
lights on the staircase were put out, I took the liberty of looking down
at the next landing.
“Do you remember, when you were a child learning to write, that one
of the lines in your copy-books was, ‘Virtue is its own reward’? This
ridiculous assertion was actually verified in my case! Before I had been
five minutes at my post, I saw the nurse open her door. She looked up
the staircase (without discovering me, it is needless to say), and she
looked down the staircase--and, seeing nobody about, returned to her
rooms.
“Waiting till I heard her lock the door, I stole downstairs, and
listened outside.
“One of my two fellow-lodgers (you know that I don’t believe in Miss
Carmina’s illness) was lighting a fire--on such a warm autumn night,
that the staircase window was left open! I am absolutely sure of what I
say: I heard the crackle of burning wood--I smelt coal smoke.
“The motive of this secret proceeding it seems impossible to guess at.
If they were burning documents of a dangerous and compromising kind,
a candle would have answered their purpose. If they wanted hot water,
surely a tin kettle and a spirit lamp must have been at hand in an
invalid’s bedroom? Perhaps, your superior penetration may be able to
read the riddle which baffles my ingenuity.
“So much for the first night.
“This afternoon, I had some talk with the landlady. My professional
avocations having trained me in the art of making myself agreeable
to the sex, I may say without vanity that I produced a favourable
impression. In other words, I contrived to set my fair friend talking
freely about the old nurse and the interesting invalid.
“Out of the flow of words poured on me, one fact of very serious
importance has risen to the surface. There is a suspicious canister in
the nurse’s possession. The landlady calls the powder inside, medicine.
I say, poison.
“Am I rushing at a fanciful conclusion? Please wait a little.
“During the week of delay which elapsed, before the lodger in possession
vacated my room, you kindly admitted me to an interview. I ventured
to put some questions, relating to Teresa’s life in Italy and to the
persons with whom she associated. Do you remember telling me, when I
asked what you knew of her husband, that he was foreman in a manufactory
of artists’ colours? and that you had your information from Miss Carmina
herself, after she had shown you the telegram announcing his death?
“A lady, possessed of your scientific knowledge, does not require to be
told that poisons are employed in making artists’ colours. Remember
what the priest’s letter says of Teresa’s feeling towards you, and then
say--Is it so very unlikely that she has brought with her to England
one of the poisons used by her husband in his trade? and is it quite
unreasonable to suppose (when she looks at her canister) that she may be
thinking of you?
“I may be right or I may be wrong. Thanks to the dilapidated condition
of a lock, I can decide the question, at the first opportunity offered
to me by the nurse’s absence from the room.
“My next report shall tell you that I have contrived to provide myself
with a sample of the powder--leaving the canister undisturbed. The
sample shall be tested by a chemist. If he pronounces it to be poison, I
have a bold course of action to propose.
“As soon as you are well enough to go to the house, give the nurse her
chance of poisoning you.
“Dear madam, don’t be alarmed! I will accompany you; and I will answer
for the result. We will pay our visit at tea-time. Let her offer you
a cup--and let me (under pretence of handing it) get possession of the
poisoned drink. Before she can cry Stop!--I shall be on my way to the
chemist.
“The penalty for attempted murder is penal servitude. If you still
object to a public exposure, we have the chemist’s report, together with
your own evidence, ready for your son on his return. How will he feel
about his marriage-engagement, when he finds that Miss Carmina’s
dearest friend and companion has tried--_perhaps, with her young lady’s
knowledge_--to poison his mother?
“Before concluding, I may mention that I had a narrow escape, only two
hours since, of being seen by Teresa on the stairs.
“I was of course prepared for this sort of meeting, when I engaged my
room; and I have therefore not been foolish enough to enter the house
under an assumed name. On the contrary, I propose (in your interests)
to establish a neighbourly acquaintance--with time to help me. But the
matter of the poison admits of no delay. My chance of getting at it
unobserved may be seriously compromised, if the nurse remembers that
she first met with me in your house, and distrusts me accordingly. Your
devoted servant, L. F.”
Having completed his letter, he rang for the maid, and gave it to her to
post.
On her way downstairs, she was stopped on the next landing by Mr. Null.
He too had a letter ready: addressed to Doctor Benjulia. The fierce old
nurse followed him out, and said, “Post it instantly!” The civil maid
asked if Miss Carmina was better. “Worse!”--was all the rude foreigner
said. She looked at poor Mr. Null, as if it was his fault.
Left in the retirement of his room, Mr. Le Frank sat at the
writing-table, frowning and biting his nails.
Were these evidences of a troubled mind connected with the infamous
proposal which he had addressed to Mrs. Gallilee? Nothing of the sort!
Having sent away his letter, he was now at leisure to let his personal
anxieties absorb him without restraint. He was thinking of Carmina.
The oftener his efforts were baffled, the more resolute he became to
discover the secret of her behaviour to him. For the hundredth time he
said to himself, “Her devilish malice reviles me behind my back,
and asks me before my face to shake hands and be friends.” The more
outrageously unreasonable his suspicions became, under the exasperating
influence of suspense, the more inveterately his vindictive nature held
to its delusion. After meeting her in the hall at Fairfield Gardens,
he really believed Carmina’s illness to have been assumed as a means of
keeping out of his way. If a friend had said to him, “But what reason
have you to think so?”--he would have smiled compassionately, and have
given that friend up for a shallow-minded man.
He stole out again, and listened, undetected, at their door. Carmina was
speaking; but the words, in those faint tones, were inaudible. Teresa’s
stronger voice easily reached his ears. “My darling, talking is not good
for you. I’ll light the night-lamp--try to sleep.”
Hearing this, he went back to his bedroom to wait a little. Teresa’s
vigilance might relax if Carmina fell asleep. She might go downstairs
for a gossip with the landlady.
After smoking a cigar, he tried again. The lights on the staircase were
now put out: it was eleven o’clock.
She was not asleep: the nurse was reading to her from some devotional
book. He gave it up, for that night. His head ached; the ferment of
his own abominable thoughts had fevered him. A cowardly dread of the
slightest signs of illness was one of his special weaknesses. The whole
day, to-morrow, was before him. He felt his own pulse; and determined,
in justice to himself, to go to bed.
Ten minutes later, the landlady, on her way to bed, ascended the stairs.
She too heard the voice, still reading aloud--and tapped softly at the
door. Teresa opened it.
“Is the poor thing not asleep yet?”
“No.”
“Has she been disturbed in some way?”
“Somebody has been walking about, overhead,” Teresa answered.
“That’s the new lodger!” exclaimed the landlady. “I’ll speak to Mr. Le
Frank.”
On the point of closing the door, and saying good-night, Teresa stopped,
and considered for a moment.
“Is he your new lodger?” she said.
“Yes. Do you know him?”
“I saw him when I was last in England.”
“Well?”
“Nothing more,” Teresa answered. “Good-night!”