was hastily loaded with a cargo for Rio Janeiro, and I again sailed in
command. The trip was a speculative venture, which resulted very
profitably, and, on my return, I asked to be relieved from further
service. I was then fifty-three years of age, and I needed rest. The
company treated me very handsomely, and I sold my shares at a high
valuation. Having settled my affairs with the company, I hurried off to
see Annie; but I was surprised to find that she had moved to Greenville,
where she was teaching music to Mr. Pattmore's younger children.
"I had bought a farm near Springfield, Massachusetts, sometime previous,
and, learning that there was some slight inaccuracy in the deed, I went
to New Haven to consult a lawyer--your friend, Mr. Chapman--relative to
the title. While there, I wrote to Annie, asking her to come and live on
the farm with me. She immediately replied that she was under an
engagement as teacher for six months, and that she could not leave
Greenville until the end of that time. She said that Lucy had asked her
to pay a visit to Morristown, but that she had been obliged to decline
the invitation for the same reason. In conclusion, Annie begged me to
visit her in Greenville.
"As soon, therefore, as I had settled my business affairs, I went to
Greenville to stay a few days. Annie seemed very glad to see me, and
appeared to be in excellent health. I repeated my proposal, that she
should come to keep house for me on my farm, and she seemed favorably
disposed toward the arrangement, though she asked time to think about
it. I told her that at my death, I should leave her all my property, and
that, meantime, she should have everything she wished. I also tried to
talk to her about Henry, but she refused to say much, and seemed
desirous to believe that he was dead.
"I found that she had very little to do as a teacher, the children being
too young to study; but she was much attached to Greenville, as, to use
her own words, 'there were so many fashionable people there.' She used
to go out driving with Mr. and Mrs. Pattmore, and sometimes with Mr.
Pattmore alone, often going as far as fifteen or twenty miles into the
country. I did not at all like the way she was acting, and I determined
to use every effort to induce her to return to Massachusetts with me.
This visit, Mr. Pinkerton, took place about two months ago.
"After remaining in Greenville a few days, I went to visit Lucy in
Morristown. We had a long talk together about Annie, and finally, Lucy
confided to me that she feared that Annie was _enceinte_.
"'Good heavens, Lucy! that is impossible!' I exclaimed. 'Our family has
never had such a disgrace cast upon it before; it has always maintained
its purity. No, no; it can't be possible.'
"'I am not _sure_ of it,' said Lucy; 'but I know there is something
wrong with her, and I greatly fear that she is a ruined woman.'
"I hardly knew what to say or do, the mere suspicion was such a terrible
blow."
Here the Captain became greatly affected; the perspiration started on
his forehead in large beads, and he often made long pauses, as he
continued. His emotion would sometimes entirely overcome him, so that he
could not speak.
"Well," he went on, "Lucy wrote to Annie, and back came the answer fully
confirming the horrid suspicion. Annie freely confessed that she was
_enceinte_, and that Pattmore was the father of her unborn child. She
said that she and Pattmore dearly loved each other, and that she could
not bear the thought of separating from him.
"My first impulse was to curse her and never see her again; but my old
love for her could not be set aside, and pity soon took the place of
anger. I could see that Pattmore had thrown a spell around her by his
fascinating manners, and she was completely under his influence. I
determined to save her from exposure and disgrace, if possible, and,
therefore, started for Greenville immediately. I had intended to speak
to Annie in a severe and indignant tone, but she rushed to meet me with
such a glad little cry that my anger melted away, and tears sprang
unbidden to my eyes.
"'Oh! Annie! Annie!' I exclaimed, 'what have you done! How has this man
acquired such a terrible power over you as to make you forget your
marriage vows and live a life of infamy with him? Have you no stings of
conscience? Think how our sainted mother would feel if she could see her
little Annie in the power of a heartless libertine. Return with me at
once, and I will forget everything. In the seclusion of my farm, you
need not fear the fiery tongue of scandal, and I will be a father to
your child.'
"She stood with downcast eyes while I was speaking, but when I had
finished she began a vehement defense of her conduct, in the course of
which she repeated all the usual arguments of those who wish to ease
their consciences when on the downward path.
"Mr. Pattmore, she said, was a perfect gentleman; he loved her, and she
returned his affection; it was true, unhappily, that they were both
married, but nature had intended them for each other, and she preferred
to obey the laws of nature to those of society; Mrs. Pattmore was a very
fine woman, but she could not make her husband happy.
"The doctrine of free-love was fully endorsed by Annie, who had learned
it all by heart, and she advanced the most extraordinary theories in
justification of her conduct.
"For years, she said, she had held the first place in Pattmore's heart,
and he had lavished his money upon her freely; the diamond ring I had
seen, the rich dresses she had worn, a valuable necklace, and many other
articles of jewelry were among the gifts he had showered upon her; they
loved each other as husband and wife and as soon as Mrs. Pattmore should
die, Mr. Pattmore would make Annie his legal wife.
"I saw that she was completely infatuated, but I endeavored to show her
how false her reasoning was, and to what wicked conclusions it would
lead. I asked if she had forgotten Henry, who was liable to return at
any moment; she could not marry until she obtained a divorce. Besides,
the fact that they were looking forward to, and wishing for Mrs.
Pattmore's death, was almost equivalent to committing murder, since to
desire any person's death was morally as bad as to murder that person.
"We had a long conversation, and finally Annie agreed to join me in
Springfield in a short time. I therefore returned to the farm and
prepared to settle down. I received no reply to several letters which I
wrote to Annie, but at last she sent me a short note saying that she had
changed her mind, and that she should stay in Greenville. I immediately
replied that I would not permit her to remain there any longer, and I
then went to consult Mr. Chapman about the matter. He acknowledged that
he could do nothing, as Annie was her own mistress; but he advised me to
see you, Mr. Pinkerton, and obtain your advice and assistance. As it was
a very delicate matter, affecting the honor of my family, I did not like
to speak about it to a third party, as I feared that the story might be
made known publicly, and Annie's reputation would then be ruined. I
therefore told him that I should not consult you if I could possibly
avoid doing so.
"While I was inwardly debating what was best to be done, I received a
note from Annie, asking me to come to her, as she feared that something
serious was about to happen. I went at once to Greenville, and found
that she had decided to remove the evidence of her guilt by performing
an abortion. I tried hard to dissuade her from a step which might result
in her own death, but she was resolute in her determination not to wait
for the child's natural birth. She said that if I would stay with her
until she recovered, she would return to Springfield with me and never
see Pattmore again. She spoke very feelingly about Henry, and she seemed
so deeply and truly penitent that I was finally won over to her wishes,
and I agreed to stay with her until she had an operation performed. I
determined to take her to stay with Lucy, at Morristown, at first, and
she accordingly prepared to leave Greenville.
"She had a long private interview with Pattmore before leaving, and when
she came out I saw she had been shedding bitter tears. As I stepped to
the office desk to pay my bill, I saw Pattmore in the clerk's room back
of the office, and he, too, seemed very much dejected. I could hardly
keep my hands off his throat when I recollected his villainy; but I
curbed my temper by a great effort, as I knew that a personal encounter
between us would only publish my sister's shame to the world. On our
arrival in Morristown, Lucy and I had a long talk with Annie, which was
far from satisfactory to me, as I saw that she was still infatuated with
Pattmore.
"I thought best to go some distance away from the places where we were
known during Annie's trial, and I therefore brought her to Chicago. Here
I obtained board in a very respectable family, where there were only a
few other boarders. Annie did not show her condition in her appearance
at all, and no one could possibly have suspected her. I found a
physician named Enfield, who was a noted operator in such cases, and
Annie at once placed herself under his treatment.
"I knew that I was about to assist in committing a great crime, yet I
felt that I must shield Annie at all hazards, and so I yielded to her
wishes in the matter. Enfield was an expert in such matters, and, in a
short time, he brought Annie through in safety. She was recovering fast,
when one day, on entering her room, I found Pattmore there. I went out
instantly, as I was afraid to trust myself in the same room with him;
but, when he had gone away, I besought Annie never again to admit him to
her presence. She would make no promises, and finally, she fell back in
a swoon. On recovering, she said that she would die if she could not see
Pattmore, and I was obliged to drop the subject until she should become
stronger. Pattmore remained in town two days, and she insisted on having
him with her a great deal of the time.
"I fear that you will consider me very weak and foolish for permitting
this; but I have never been able to refuse Annie anything. I knew,
moreover, that, in such a case, harsh measures would only add fuel to
the flame, and so I continued to humor her, trusting, that in time, she
would gradually recover her normal condition, and see the folly of her
conduct.
"Pattmore told her, during his visit, that he was in great hopes of
receiving the democratic nomination to Congress; and, as the democratic
party had a large majority in that district, the nomination would be
equivalent to an election. He also said that his wife was in failing
health, and that she seemed to grow weaker every day. I could see by
Annie's manner, when she told me this, that she hoped to be Pattmore's
partner in enjoying the gay life of the National Capital, though she
did not say so directly.
"One day, she brought up the subject of wills, and said that she thought
every one owning property, ought to make a will. She said that otherwise
a man's property, in case of sudden death, might be eaten up by the
lawyers and court officials. I admitted the justness of her remarks, and
told her that I should follow her suggestion. I was obliged to go East
on business for a few days at this time, and, on the way, I left a
letter and package with Pattmore, which Annie had asked me to deliver.
While in New Haven, I employed Mr. Chapman to draw up my will. Lucy had
asked me to leave all my property to Annie, as she had enough for
herself and children, while Annie had no one to look to for an honest
support, except myself; accordingly, I made my will in that way.
"On my return to Chicago, I hurried to our boarding house to see Annie,
and, to my intense disgust, I found Pattmore with her. The sight of him
fondling my poor sister, was too much for me: and, although I succeeded
in restraining myself from doing him any personal violence, I used the
most severe language possible in characterizing his villainy, and in
expressing my contempt for him. I concluded, by telling him that the
affair must end then and there; that he must never address my sister
again, or attempt to see her; and that if he dared to disregard my
demand, he must take the consequences. They both hung their heads
guiltily, while I was speaking, and when I closed, Pattmore quitted the
room without a word. I found that he left town the same day.
"I also went out of the house immediately, being too excited to talk
calmly to Annie; but I returned after supper, and reasoned with her as
gently as possible on the impropriety and wickedness of her conduct. She
seemed to feel very sorry, and was so penitent that my hopes of saving
her, rose considerably. She promised, with tears in her eyes, to
overcome her unholy love for Pattmore, and never to see him again. I
noticed, however, that when I spoke of my efforts to obtain tidings of
Henry, she was very indifferent; but she promised to return to
Springfield with me as soon as she was able to travel, and matters began
to look more cheerful for the future.
"A day or two after, she received a letter from Pattmore, saying that
his wife was seriously ill, and that the physicians considered her life
in danger.
"'What is the matter with her?' I asked.
"'I don't know,' she replied; 'Mr. Pattmore does not state what is her
disease.'
"I then spoke very harshly about Pattmore, and said that he, above all
other men, was hateful to me, because he had ruined her. She replied in
his defense, and, as our conversation seemed likely to become bitter, I
walked out to allow time for both our tempers to cool off. On my return,
I found that Annie had gone out for the first time, since her illness,
but she soon came in, saying that she had taken a short walk for
exercise. She had regained her good humor, and seemed more like herself
than she had for sometime. She again brought up the subject of wills,
and I told her that I had made my will while I was in New Haven. She
asked me about it, and I told her that I had made her my sole legatee,
and that she would be in comfortable circumstances when I died. She
seemed very much pleased at this, and said I was a dear good brother;
but she hoped it might be a long time before she should become heiress
to my property.
"'Who knows?' she said, laughing; 'perhaps I may die first.'
"'That is possible,' I said, 'but not probable. In the course of nature,
I ought to die many years before you; and sailors are proverbially
short-lived.'
"'Oh, nonsense!' she replied, 'you are so salted and tanned that you
will last fifty years yet.'
"She then skipped gaily into the next room and brought out a bottle of
ale, to reward me, as she said, for being good. She poured out a glass
for each of us, and we drank to each other's good health. In about half
an hour I became very sick; I vomited and retched terribly, while my
bowels seemed to be on fire. The weather was very warm, and I attributed
my illness to some fruit I had eaten, which the ale had disagreed with.
I suffered agony all night, but toward morning I became quieter and the
pain gradually left me.
"At daylight I casually glanced at my ring, and I was surprised to see
that the stone had turned to a creamy white--a sure sign that my life
was in danger. You will call me foolish and superstitious, I know, but I
cannot help it. A belief in the virtues of this ring is a part of my
very nature, and it has always been an unerring guide to me. This ring
invariably predicts my good or bad fortune." And so speaking, the
Captain held the ring out for me to see it.
I looked him straight in the face, expecting to see some signs of
insanity, or at least monomania, in his eyes, but there were none. He
was evidently perfectly rational, and this belief was apparently as
natural to him as a belief in a hereafter, or in any other religious
doctrine, is to other people. After a short pause, as I glanced at the
ring, he continued:
"Now, you can see nothing strange in that stone, Mr. Pinkerton, but I
can. From its appearance I can obtain warning of approaching good or bad
fortune. Away out at sea, when a storm is coming, the stone turns black;
when enemies are near me it turns the color of blood; and when I am in
danger of death, it becomes a creamy white.
"My father once saved the life of a Sepoy soldier, and, as a mark of
gratitude, the latter presented my father with three rings of wonderful
powers. The Sepoy said that he had obtained them from a Hindoo hermit,
far out in the jungle. I have long tried to find other rings possessing
the same qualities, but have never succeeded. One of these rings was
buried with my mother, one with my father, and I have the third."
I looked at the ring carefully, but could see nothing remarkable about
it. The stone was an opal, set in a heavy gold band, peculiarly chased;
but, aside from the popular superstition with regard to opals, there was
nothing which would lead me to suppose that it possessed any exceptional
powers.
"When I saw you last," continued the Captain, "I meant to have asked you
to have this ring buried with me, in case I died; but I was afraid you
would consider the request too foolish. I wished it buried with me
because I did not wish Annie to have it."
"But why do you think Annie would take it?" I asked.
"Because I know she wants it," replied Captain Sumner. "She thinks that
it would enable her to make Pattmore love her always, and so she wishes
to own it. Now, I think Pattmore is a villain, and I wish to separate
her from him and destroy his influence over her. Therefore I do not wish
her to get the ring, since its possession will induce her to continue
her connection with that man."
I confess that I did not know what to make of the Captain. If he was
insane, he certainly had the most impenetrable mask over his insanity
that I had ever seen. His eyes were so bright, clear and honest, that
the most experienced physiognomist in the world would have failed to
observe the slightest trace of cunning, or want of a balanced mind in
their expression. During the progress of his story he had continually
held his ring where he could see it, and several times had raised it to
the light, in a contemplative sort of way, as if he drew some
satisfaction from its appearance. He bowed his head in his hands as he
ceased speaking, and some moments elapsed before he looked up, though
when he did so he was perfectly calm.
"Captain, did you find the ring of any practical value at sea?" I asked.
"Yes; often it has apprised me of a coming storm in time to prepare for
it. I have thus passed in safety through many sudden gales of the
approach of which I have been warned only just in time to save my ship.
My men always had perfect confidence in my ability to weather the
heaviest gale."
"Well, Captain, if you should give that ring to me, would it be equally
prophetic in my hands?" I asked.
"But I will not give it to you nor any one else; nor will I part with
it, even in death if I can help it," replied the Captain. "The Sepoy
told my father, that he must never allow the rings to go out of his
family, as they would then lose their powers. I know that the fancy
seems strange to you, and, no doubt, you think I am not exactly sane;
but I have proved the power of the ring so often, that I know its
virtues, and believe in them. I may be able to satisfy you of its value
by a practical demonstration yet."
I saw that he was not insane, but terribly superstitious, so I made no
further remarks about the ring. He drew his chair closer toward me, and
said in a low, painful whisper:
"Mr. Pinkerton, I have positive knowledge that _Annie has attempted to
poison me three times_. She put poison in that ale; she afterwards gave
me some in a cup of coffee; and, the third time, it was administered so
secretly, that I do not know when I took it. The first time, I recovered
because the dose was too large, and I vomited up the poison so soon that
it had not time to act. The second time, I took only a sip of the
coffee, and found that it tasted bitter, so I threw it away, though the
little I had taken distressed me exceedingly. The third time, I nearly
died, and it was only by the prompt attendance of a physician that I was
saved. He said it was a metal poison which probably came off from a
copper kettle in which some fruit had been cooked. Neither he, nor any
one else, ever suspected that I had been poisoned intentionally. When I
recovered, I accused Annie of trying to poison me; she denied it
vehemently at first, but I said to her:
"'Annie, the ring tells me that I have an enemy near me, and you must be
that enemy.'
"I spoke as if positive of her guilt, and, as she is a firm believer in
the ring, she finally burst into tears and confessed having given me
poison at three different times. On her knees, she begged my
forgiveness, and thanked God that my life had been spared. She was so
broken down by the thought of her unnatural and wicked purpose, that I
feared that she would have a relapse into sickness. She seemed so wholly
contrite, that I thought she would never undertake such a terrible crime
again, and I freely forgave her."
I looked at the Captain in perfect amazement, hardly able to credit my
own senses.
"Can it be possible," I asked, "that your sister admitted that she had
tried to poison you?"
"Yes," replied the Captain; "and she said that Pattmore had encouraged
her to put me out of the way. He had told her that he would marry her
when his wife, (who was now dying) was dead; that I was bitterly opposed
to him, and would never consent to their marriage; that if she would
poison me, they would be married and go to California to live; and,
therefore, that it would be well for her to poison me before Mrs.
Pattmore died."
"What!" I exclaimed, "is Mrs. Pattmore dying? What is her disease?"
"I do not know," replied the Captain; "but I fear that _she, also, has
been poisoned_."
"How long is it since you had this talk with Annie?" I inquired.
"About three days ago, and she has been sick abed with excitement and
remorse ever since. She says that she expects to hear of Mrs. Pattmore's
death at any time, and she is sure that Pattmore has poisoned her. Mr.
Chapman told me, when I last saw him, Mr. Pinkerton, that you were the
only person who could help me; and so I have come to you to save Mrs.
Pattmore and my sister. I feel that Mr. Chapman was right, Mr.
Pinkerton, and I beg you to give me your assistance--I will pay you
liberally."
_CHAPTER III._
When the Captain had finished his almost incredible story, I hardly knew
what to make of it. It was impossible to doubt his word; yet it seemed
almost equally hard to believe that his sister could have tried to
murder him. Pattmore's intention of killing his wife in order to marry
Annie, was another piece of cold-blooded villainy which was almost past
belief. The question frequently came into my mind: Are all the parties
in their right minds? After I had thought about the matter in silence a
few minutes, I said:
"Well, Captain Sumner, yours is certainly a strange case, and I cannot
give you any answer until I have had time for reflection. Return in
three hours and I will then tell you my decision. I will help you if I
possibly can do so."
He rose to go, but stopped a moment as he reached the door, and said,
with the utmost simplicity and confidence:
"I _know_ you can help me if you will do so, and no one else can."
After he had gone, I sent a man to the Captain's boarding house with
instructions to learn all he could about the boarders. He reported that,
among others, there was a Captain Sumner boarding there with his sister,
Mrs. Annie Thayer. My detective also learned many things about the
Captain and his sister which corroborated the account given by the
Captain. Having satisfied myself that the Captain's story was true--in
part at least--I sat down to reflect upon the strange medley which he
had told me.