A STARTLING DENOUEMENT.
"What is your name and calling?"
"I am of the Criminal Investigation Department in Paris. Joseph Pitou,
a name well known."
"We are familiar with it in England. You have come to London on
special business?"
"In association with my esteemed _confrère_, Monsieur Lambert, I have
come to make the arrest of a notorious criminal."
"You speak excellent English?"
"You are pleased to say so. It is to me as my mother tongue; as is
also Italian, German, and various dialects of the Turkish and Polish
languages."
"What is the name of the notorious criminal you have come to arrest?"
"Louis Lorenz."
"Do you hope to be able to lay hands on him?"
"I can lay this hand on him at any moment."
"What is the nature of his crime?"
"Permit me. Of his many crimes. Many robberies, attended with extreme
brutality. And worse than robberies. One positive murder in Gallicia;
another probable murder in Vienna; another in St. Petersburg."
"Up to this day he has escaped?"
"Yes, he has escaped, always escaped. Condemned to the galleys in
Vienna; a week afterwards, flown. Sent to Siberia in Russia;
disappeared on the road. Sentenced to death in Gallicia; his cell
empty the day after he was put into it."
"A man of rare talent?"
"Of immense talent. His plans laid with the brain of a master; money
ready for bribes; confederates ready to obey orders. Nothing has been
too difficult for him to accomplish."
"What was the principal motive for his crimes? Money?"
"It is curious. Money sometimes, but never money alone. In every case
his victim was possessed of some rare treasures of art which Lorenz
coveted, and would have trodden through blood to obtain. As it
happens, he trod through much blood. In this way many valuable
antiques have disappeared. I have a record of them. Search has been
made for them throughout the wide world, and they are still
undiscovered. For years I have been on the track of them. A clue fell
into my hands, and I followed it up. I hold a warrant for the man's
arrest, and soon justice will be satisfied."
"Louis Lorenz can be no common criminal?"
"My faith, no! Louis Lorenz is a prince, an emperor of criminals. I
have hunted for him in every city in Europe and America, and for the
art treasures he has stolen. Not one has seen the light; not one has
been offered to dealers or connoisseurs. He has been known here, and
known there, as a man who dabbled in science. It has been said he is
in search of the Philosopher's Stone, of the elixir of life. He has
imposed even upon _savants_, who have been seduced into believing in
the miracles he declared he would one day accomplish."
"But if he presented himself in his own proper person how is it that
he has not been caught, that he is still free?"
"Never did he present himself in his own proper person. Always so
disguised that it was impossible to identify him. He is an actor of
the first class, a match for the Evil One himself. But for the powers
of darkness man is sometimes a match."
"'Be sure thy sin will find thee out?'"
"Ah, monsieur, it is true."
"You say it would be impossible to identify him with his clothes on.
Would it be impossible to identify him with his clothes off?"
"Ah, no, that is a different matter. He is branded on the back, on
the breast."
Mr. Marlow: "Is not my learned friend wandering from the case we are
investigating--the murder of Samuel Boyd of Catchpole Square?"
Mr. Pallaret: "No. Be patient, and you will understand; I will not
keep you long in suspense." (To the witness.) "You say you can lay
hands on Louis Lorenz at any moment. At this moment?"
"At this moment."
"Here in this court?"
"Here in this court."
"Then he must be in attendance?
"He is in attendance."
"Point him out."
The witness extended his arm dramatically, and pointed to Dr. Pye.
"That is the man!"
A scene of indescribable excitement ensued. Exclamations of
astonishment were heard on all sides, and everyone, with the exception
of the French detective, the counsel for the defence, and Dr. Pye, was
in commotion. They remained unmoved, the two former silent and
watchful, the latter exhibiting not the least trace of agitation. In
the midst of this excited scene loud exclamations were heard outside
the court, where the people appeared to have caught the contagion, and
presently the policemen near the door leading to the public
thoroughfare were seen to be busily forcing a passage for the entrance
of two persons, one a little girl, carried in the arms of detective
Lambert, the other a man, white and emaciated, reclining in the arms
of two constables. As they came into view a shriek from Mrs. Death
resounded through the Court.
"Abel! Abel!" she screamed, and her frenzied cry was followed by an
interval of dead silence.
Abel Death raised his head, and looked at his wife with a wan,
affectionate smile; and Gracie, with a strange glitter in her large
black eyes, cried in a hoarse voice,
"It's all right, mother! It's all right, Dick! I said I'd find father,
didn't I?"
Mr. Pallaret: "Let these witnesses be brought forward to this table,
where they will have more breathing space. I must ask your worship to
excuse me while I speak privately to them."
Abel Death, who was very weak, was accommodated with a seat at the
table, where he reclined, with a cushion at his back; Gracie, holding
his hand, sat by his side; and between them and Mr. Pallaret and
Lambert, a whispered conference was held, lasting several minutes. The
conference over, Mr. Pallaret addressed the magistrate:
"The proceedings in this case have been somewhat irregular, but not
less irregular than I anticipated when I opened the defence. My
object, as I informed your worship, was to obtain, not an adjournment
of the case, but the immediate acquittal of the accused. I made the
observation that the only evidence against Mr. Reginald Boyd was that
given by the person who calls himself Dr. Pye, and it will not be
disputed that his evidence is entirely discredited. Nay, I will go
farther and say that it was fabricated for the purpose of weaving so
strong a case of circumstantial evidence against two innocent men as
to practically ensure their conviction of a crime which they did not
commit. With respect to Mr. Richard Remington, you have heard the
strange but true story of the part he has played in this mystery. When
he was caught last Monday night in Catchpole Square his appeals to his
captors to hurry into the house for the purpose of arresting the two
men who were searching for treasure there while, disguised to resemble
the wax figure of the Chinaman, he was seated in its chair, was
doubtless regarded by many in this court as a mere invention; but I
shall now be able to prove that it was no invention, and at the same
time to establish the truth of the story I have related to you. The
proof will be forthcoming in the evidence of this brave little girl,
Gracie Death, who has played a part in this strange mystery as
adventurous and romantic as that of Richard Remington himself. After
she has given her evidence I shall call her father, Mr. Abel Death, if
he is strong enough, to relate what he knows. He has, as it were,
risen from the grave, and thanks to his brave little daughter, is
enabled to make his appearance here to-day. I shudder to think what
might have been his fate had the vile conspiracy I am unmasking been
allowed to proceed, and had the conspirators been allowed to leave the
court. In a charge so serious, and in circumstances so strange and
unprecedented, I am confident that your worship and my learned friend
for the prosecution will allow me every latitude; and in furtherance
of this appeal I ask to be permitted to suspend the examination of
Monsieur Joseph Pitou, for the purpose of examining the two new
witnesses who are manifestly unfit to remain for a long time in the
air of this Court."
Mr. Marlow: "I have no objection to offer."
"I thank my learned friend. Let Gracie Death go into the witness box."
But before this could be done Gracie was seized with a fit of coughing
which terribly shook her slight frame. There were few among the
spectators that did not pity the child, who made brave efforts to
check the cough, and who, when it was over, looked lovingly at her
mother, and said,
"It's all right, mother, don't you worry about it; only I've had to
hold it back so long!"
Then, all eyes upon her, she was assisted into the witness box, and a
stool placed for her to stand upon, Detective Lambert stationing
himself by her side to render her assistance if she needed it. When
the Bible was handed to her the magistrate asked if she understood the
nature of an oath; she replied that she was to tell the truth, the
whole truth, and nothing but the truth, and that she didn't mean to
tell anything else. This being deemed satisfactory she was sworn, and
her examination proceeded with.
"What is your name?"
"Gracie Death."
"How old are you?"
"I shall be thirteen soon, sha'n't I, mother?"
"You left your home last Tuesday morning?"
"Yes, sir, I did, and I was sorry for mother because I knew she'd
worry. But I had to."
"Why?"
"Because of Dick."
The Magistrate: "Who is Dick?"
"Dick Remington, my lordship."
The magistrate was not the only one who smiled at the form of this
reply.
"What had Dick to do with your leaving your home? Tell us as much as
you can?"
"Well, sir, Dick and me had gone partners to find father, and to find
out who murdered Samuel Boyd. I was sure father didn't do it, though a
lot of people was wicked enough to say so, and Dick was sure Mr.
Reginald didn't do it, and I believed what Dick believed, so I was
sure, too. Dick was the captain of the ship, and I was first mate. He
gave me things to do, and I did 'em as well as I could. I found
out that Dr. Vinsen wasn't Dr. Vinsen at all, but Ezra Lynn, a
money-lender. I always knew he was no good--yes, I did, mother! And I
caught the sham doctor talking to Mr. Rawdon, the ironmonger, the man
that was on the jury, and I saw him go into his shop. Well, when I saw
the notice posted up in Catchpole Square that Dick had gone away, I
couldn't make it out, though I knew that Dick was doing the right
thing--he always does, you know--but I didn't like to be left out of
it. I went to Mrs. Inspector Robson, who's been I can't tell you how
kind to me--and so has Mr. Inspector Robson and that poor young lady
there--but she couldn't say where Dick was, and I was that worried
you'd hardly believe. Wait a bit, please--there's that cough of mine
coming back again." After a silence of a minute or so, except for the
hollow, rasping sounds she made, she said, with an odd kind of
pathetic resignation, "It's taking it out of me now because I wouldn't
let it have its way when it wanted to. I didn't dare, you know. Well,
I worried and worried, and last Monday night I had my dream again."
"What dream?"
"About father. I've had it I don't know how many times, and every time
father's come crying out to me to save him and to look for him in
Catchpole Square. When I woke up on Tuesday morning I kept on thinking
and thinking about it, and then I heard that Dick was taken up for the
murder, and I had him to save as well as father. He'd been caught
coming out of the house, where he'd been watching since Friday, so I
says to myself, 'What Dick can do I can do,' and I makes up my mind to
watch as he'd done, on the chance of catching the murderers. Dick said
they'd been there, you know, and if they come once they might come
again, all the more now that Dick was out of the way. That's where
I've been from Tuesday night up till now."
"How did you get into the house?"
"Didn't Dick tell you? It's through the next house, where you can push
open the door at the bottom of the steps. Then you go down to the
cellar, and there's some bricks in the wall that you can take out and
put back again. That's the way you get into the cellar of Samuel
Boyd's house. There's a trap door in the ceiling that you can reach by
standing on a broken chair; you push it up and scramble through, and
there you are in Samuel Boyd's kitchen. I showed it to Dick, and
perhaps he made use of it when he didn't want anybody to know how he
got in and out of Mr. Boyd's house. And you can put everything back
that artful that it'd take a clever one to find it out. So there I was
in the house, with a loaf of bread that I bought with some money Dick
give me. The water was on, and with that and the bread there was no
fear of my starving for a little while. Nobody come on Tuesday night,
and I kept myself snug. And nobody come on Wednesday. But I wouldn't
give it up as a bad job, and I kept on watching and listening all day
yesterday. Well, I don't know how late in the night it was, but I
think it must have been two or three in the morning, when I heard
somebody talking to somebody else in the downstairs passage. They
talked very soft, but I heard 'em, and then they crept upstairs, and I
slips into my hiding place, and watches through a chink. For I says to
myself, 'If they come anywhere they'll come into the office.'"
"Where was your hiding place?"
"You'd never guess. There's a large pianner in the office where father
worked, and would you believe it, there's nothing inside it? It's
hollow, and it stands against the wall of another little room at the
side. Oh, it's artful, I can tell you! You go into that little room,
and you push a sliding panel in the wall just at the back of the
pianner, and you creep in. Then you push the sliding panel back, and
there you are, shut up in a box like. And if there's a light in the
office you can peep through a chink, and see all that's going on. I
hadn't long to wait; the trouble was that my cough was tickling my
throat, but I kept it down, though it almost choked me. If I hadn't
you wouldn't have seen me here. The door opens, and two men come in,
without a light. 'What's the good of that?' I thinks. But presently
they strike a match and light a candle, and they keep it close to the
ground. I knew why they did that--so that the light couldn't be seen
through the window outside in the Square. What with their backs being
to me I couldn't catch sight of their faces, but I kept my eye glued
to the chink, waiting for my chance. And all at once I saw them."
"Did you know them?"
"One of 'em I did, but not the other. I guessed, though."
"We will make sure. Look around the court, and tell me whether you see
the other man?"
Gracie's sharp eyes had lighted on Dr. Vinsen the moment she was in
the witness-box, and they kindled when they rested on Dr. Pye, but
with rare self-control she had restrained herself from crying out, the
dramatic instinct within her assuring her that the right moment would
come for denouncing him. Being now directed, it was her turn to ask a
question.
Gracie: "Who is that next Dr. Vinsen?"
Mr. Pallaret, hesitating in his reply, some person called out, "It is
Dr. Pye," whereupon an officer cried, "Order in the court!" But,
irregular as was this proceeding, neither the counsel for the
prosecution nor the magistrate intervened.
Gracie: "That is the other man."
Mr. Pallaret: "Take time. Look again. Be absolutely certain."
Gracie: "I am. The other man is Dr. Pye."
Mr. Pallaret: "Still you may be mistaken?"
Gracie: "I can't be. I'd pick him out of a thousand. There ain't
another man in the world like him."
Mr. Pallaret: "Well, you saw them. What happened next?"
Gracie: "They searched about the room a good deal, and I think they
were disappointed at not finding something. After that they began to
talk louder. Dr. Vinsen--I wouldn't call him that, because it ain't
his proper name, but it comes easier--he said it was madness to come
into the house, where they were in danger of being caught any minute.
He looked very frightened: His face was as white as chalk. Dr. Pye
called him a coward. There's a lot of wine in the office--father used
to tell of it--and Dr. Pye took up a bottle, and opened it with a
corkscrew. Then he went to the bedroom, and brought out a glass, and
poured the wine into it. Dr. Vinsen wouldn't drink, and Dr. Pye
laughed and said something about eating and drinking to-day and dying
to-morrow. 'Look,' he said, 'it was just on this very spot you
squeezed the last breath out of Samuel Boyd.' 'It's a lie!' Dr. Vinsen
cried, 'it was you that did it.' 'You are a liar,' Dr. Pye said. 'Your
knee was on his chest, and your hands at his throat.' Then they began
to quarrel, Dr. Vinsen speaking loud and Dr. Pye soft, and laughing
and drinking all the time. 'You've been the ruin of me,' Dr. Vinsen
said. 'If I escape with my life I shall think myself lucky.' 'To be
hanged by the neck till you're dead,' said Dr. Pye, laughing again,
'and the Lord have mercy on your soul. You blubbering fool!' I
couldn't catch everything they said. 'What are we to do if things
don't turn out well to-morrow?' Dr. Vinsen said. 'I am prepared,' Dr.
Pye said. 'Perhaps when I get home I'll set fire to the house, and
vanish in the smoke. Only I'd like to have a settling first with Mr.
Dick Remington.' Take care of yourself, Dick, he looked like a devil!
Soon afterwards I heard father's name--I don't know which one spoke
it--and my heart beat so I was afraid they'd hear it. In a little
while they said it was no use stopping any longer, and I heard them
leaving the room."
Mr. Pallaret: "Stop a moment or two, and get your breath."
Gracie: "Let me go on, please--I'm all right. How's poor father? Is he
feeling any better?"
Mr. Pallaret: "Yes. With your permission, your worship."
A kind person had sent out for some hot coffee, a cup of which was
given to Gracie, and another to Abel Death. Mrs. Death rose, and
implored the magistrate to allow her to stand in the witness box with
her child, and, permission being given, a score of willing hands were
stretched forward to assist her. This was the commencement of an
affecting scene. She had to pass her husband, and she stooped and
kissed him, sobbing,
"Oh, Abel, my dear, dear Abel!"
No one in the court spoke, and presently he whispered,
"Go to Gracie. She has saved my life!"
In the witness box her maternal feelings were not to be restrained;
she clasped Gracie in her arms, and wept over her, and kissed her
again and again.
"You don't mind my running away, do you, mother?" asked Gracie, in a
low tone. "If I hadn't, father might never have been found."
"My darling, my darling!" sobbed Mrs. Death. "It was I who was
wrong--you were right all through."
"Never mind that now, mother," Gracie said. "Let me go on, or the
gentlemen will be angry. Oh, but I am glad to be back!"
Many strange scenes have been witnessed in the Bishop Street Police
Court, but none so strange and moving as this. Not one of the
officials made any effort to stop its progress. The magistrate made a
pretence of being busy with his papers; eyes were dimmed by tears; and
even when Lady Wharton, in her hearty voice, said, "I should like to
do something for that little heroine," the ushers forgot to cry,
"Silence in the court!"
Gracie (turning to Mr. Pallaret, one hand hanging down in her mother's
tender clasp): "May I go on, now, sir?"
Mr. Pallaret: "Yes, child. Your last words were, 'I heard them leaving
the room.'"
Gracie: "I remember, sir. After they were gone I couldn't stay where I
was, could I? I crept out of the pianner as quiet as a mouse, and
through the door of the little room into the passage. They were
downstairs by that time, and lucky for me had blown out the candle; so
down I slipped after them. First I thought they were going out by the
street door, and I hoped a policeman would be in the Square to catch
'em; but they didn't go that way; they went down to the kitchen. Then
I thought they knew of the trap door, and how to get in the cellar of
the next house. But I was wrong again. I heard Dr. Pye say, 'Give me
the matches,' and a minute afterwards, 'You clumsy fool--you've spilt
'em!' I peeped through the keyhole of the kitchen door, and there they
were picking up the matches. I guessed that, you know, because
everything was dark, but when they began striking the matches I saw
what they'd been at. There's a large dresser in the kitchen, and a
shelf on the floor where people put saucepans and things; and if
you'll believe it, at the back of this shelf there's a sliding panel
in the wall, just the same as there is in the pianner upstairs. I saw
the panel move, and saw Dr. Pye and Dr. Vinsen creep through the hole.
Then the panel was shut, and everything was dark. I didn't lose a
minute. I made up my mind to see where that hole led to if I died for
it, so I went into the kitchen and crept under the dresser as they'd
done, but it was so dark that I might have been there till now if they
hadn't left some matches behind them on the floor. Then I soon got the
panel to work. It opened on a flight of rickety stairs. Down I went,
without caring what happened to me. I thought there might be a well of
water at the bottom of the stairs, but there wasn't. It was solid
ground, and I was in a sort of a tunnel that runs right under
Catchpole Square from Mr. Boyd's house to Dr. Pye's house. When I got
to the end of the tunnel I had only two matches left, but I made them
do. There was another sliding panel in the wall, and I pushed that
aside, and there I was in Dr. Pye's house, but without a light. I
didn't know which way to turn, but I felt about with my hands, and my
blood run cold when they touched a face, and I only kept from
screaming out loud by the fear that if I did I should be murdered. At
first I thought it was a dead face, but I remembered what I'd read,
that if it was dead it would be stone cold. I felt again, and it was
warm. Then I heard a voice say, 'Whose hand is that?' And, oh, sir,
though he spoke almost in a whisper, I knew I had found my father.
'Father!' I said, and I put my face close to his. 'My God!' he
answered. 'It's little Gracie!'"
Up to this point Gracie had told her thrilling story with
extraordinary composure, and every one who heard it wondered at the
lack of passion in her voice and gesture. But now she broke down. Her
lips trembled, her eyes wandered around, and with a long shuddering
sigh she sank fainting in her mother's arms. Many of the spectators
gave utterance to cries of sympathy, and ready assistance was tendered
by the officials, while a hurried consultation took place between the
counsel for the defence and the prosecution, at the end of which Mr.
Pallaret addressed the court:
"Your worship will perceive that the witness is not in a fit condition
to conclude the story which must have inspired every person here with
pity and horror--except, I am constrained to add, those who will soon
be called upon to answer for their misdeeds. No words of mine can
heighten the effect of a recital which has stirred every sympathetic
heart. It is to me a marvel how this little heroine, as she has been
properly called, could have sustained her courage through three long
sleepless days and nights, with only cold water to drink, and a small
loaf of bread to eat. The indomitable spirit which sustained her is
indeed remarkable, and I venture to say that a tale more thrilling has
never been heard in a court of justice, and that the heroism displayed
by this devoted child is unparalleled in the annals of noble deeds.
Neither is Mr. Abel Death in a fit condition to give evidence. Your
worship will doubtless agree with me that what we have heard has
established the innocence of Mr. Reginald Boyd and Mr. Richard
Remington, and that we have sufficiently laid bare the particulars of
one of the vilest conspiracies on record. But before asking for the
discharge of these gentlemen, and in view of the proceedings to be
taken against Dr. Pye, alias Louis Lorenz, and his confederate, Ezra
Lynn, alias Dr. Vinsen, for whose arrest on the charge of murdering
Mr. Samuel Boyd I shall apply for warrants, I propose, with the
concurrence of my learned friend, the counsel for the crown, to call
Detective Lambert, who will give information of the discoveries he has
made in the house of Dr. Pye, and will narrate the circumstances under
which he has been enabled to bring Gracie Death into court."
The Magistrate: "Let it be so. Detective Lambert can go into the
witness box. In the meantime let Mr. and Mrs. Death and their child be
taken into my room, and every attention paid to them."
When these three persons were conveyed to the small room at the rear
of the courthouse, accompanied by a doctor who happened to be among
the spectators, Lambert stepped into the witness box, and was sworn.
Mr. Pallaret: "We wish to hear from you an account of your proceedings
this morning in connection with this case."
Detective Lambert: "From information received shortly after the case
was opened I proceeded to the house of Dr. Pye in Shore Street, which
has been for some time under the observation of the police. The man
stationed there took me to Catchpole Square, where I saw Gracie Death,
who told me hurriedly what she had just given in evidence. From the
night of Friday, the 1st of March, when Mr. Abel Death went to Mr.
Samuel Boyd's house to beg to be taken back into his service, he has
been imprisoned in the cellar of Dr. Pye's house. Upon leaving his
home to make his appeal he wandered about the streets for some time,
and it was not until midnight that he went into Catchpole Square. An
untimely hour, but he was in a distracted state, and was scarcely
accountable for his actions. He informed me that when he knocked at
the door of Mr. Samuel Boyd's house he was answered in a voice which
he believed to be his late employer's; that the door was suddenly
opened, and he was dragged into the passage; that he saw the faces of
two men whom he can identify; that one of the men struck him so
violent a blow that he fell to the ground in a state of insensibility;
that when he recovered he found himself in the cellar in which he was
discovered by his little daughter; that he was tied to a bench fixed
to the ground, and his arms fastened behind him, so that he could not
release himself; that from time to time Dr. Pye visited him, and
endeavoured to extract information as to where Mr. Samuel Boyd had
concealed the jewels deposited with him by Lady Wharton, and as to
other hiding places his late employer had for concealing treasure;
that as he could not give the desired information he was threatened
with death; that no person visited him except Dr. Pye; that
insufficient food was given him; that he was regularly drugged into
unconsciousness, and had passed nearly the whole of the time in a
state of stupor; and that he was so weak and enfeebled by this
treatment and from the effects of the violent blow he had received,
that he could scarcely raise his voice. I now take up the story from
the point at which Gracie Death left it.
"She remained with her father all night, being afraid to leave him
because Dr. Pye, when he passed through the cellar shortly before she
entered it, had threatened to come back and force him to take
something which would send him into a sleep from which he would never
wake. In daytime very little light can penetrate the cellar, and by
this dim light Gracie Death saw the door which led to the upper parts
of the house. She tried it, and found it was locked from the outside.
She knew that Dr. Pye had to attend the police court to-day to give
evidence in this case, and she thought it best to wait till he was
gone, and then to get back to the house in Catchpole Square through
the tunnel, and go for assistance to release her father. He was so
securely tied, and the ropes that bound him were so thick, that she
could not undo them, and there was nothing in the cellar with which
she could cut them. No food was brought to Mr. Death this morning,
which perhaps was fortunate, as it would have led to the discovery of
Gracie. The little girl had to judge the time at which Dr. Pye was due
in this court, and it happens that she did so very accurately, for the
detective who was watching Dr. Pye's house informed me that it was a
little after eleven o'clock when he saw her running up and down Shore
Street in search of a policeman. He went up to her and told her who he
was, and having heard her strange story, first sent me a note which
was delivered to me in court shortly after I had given my evidence,
and then endeavoured to obtain admission into Dr. Pye's house. To all
appearance it was empty, for no one answered his knocks at the door,
and matters were at a standstill until my arrival. As we could not
break open the front door I obtained a ladder and set it against the
back window that looks out on Catchpole Square, the window through
which Dr. Pye said he threw the flashlight. There was a shutter to the
window which I forced open; Gracie had followed me up the ladder, and
I assisted her into the room, in which I observed two new travelling
trunks. I did not stop to examine them, but ran down to the street
door, and admitted two constables I had sent for. I may state here
that there were no servants in the house. Then we hastened to the
cellar, the door of which we forced, and found Mr. Abel Death, as his
daughter has described. When we got him into one of the better rooms,
and took the ropes off him, he was so weak that it was impossible to
bring him to the court, and I despatched a line to the counsel for the
defence giving him certain information, and saying I hoped to be in
attendance with the two new witnesses in the course of an hour or two.
While restoratives were being given to Mr. Death I searched the house,
and found a mass of account books and documents which had belonged to
Mr. Samuel Boyd. I found also some articles of clothing which I
believe will be found to have been worn by him. There was one complete
suit of grey, and an overcoat with a fur collar. Lady Wharton will
perhaps be able to say whether the man who visited her in Bournemouth
wore a suit of that colour and a coat of that description."
Lady Wharton (from the body of the court): "He did." Detective
Lambert: "One of the trunks was packed and locked, and it appeared to
me that preparations had been made for flight. The other trunk was
only partly packed, and was not locked. This I opened and searched. At
the top, in receptacles which must have been made expressly for them,
were a number of works of art in bronze, ivory, and porcelain, which I
should judge were very valuable. At the bottom of the trunk was a
packet which I unfastened. It contained deeds and acceptances of
various kinds, some signed by Lord Wharton and Lord Fairfax, also some
jewels answering to the description of those which were obtained from
Lady Wharton by fraud at Bournemouth. By the time I had made this
cursory examination Mr. Death was sufficiently recovered to be brought
to the court with his daughter Gracie. I left two constables in charge
of the house, and hastened here at once." Mr. Pallaret (to the
magistrates): "Upon the evidence presented to you I now apply for the
discharge of Mr. Reginald Boyd and Mr. Richard Remington."
The Magistrate: "Has the counsel for the Crown anything to say?"
Mr. Marlow: "I offer no opposition. There were circumstances of grave
suspicion against the accused which warranted their arrest, but the
light thrown upon the case appears to leave no doubt of their
innocence."
Mr. Pallaret: "I thank my learned friend."
The Magistrate: "The accused are discharged."
Florence and Aunt Rob rose from their seats in joyful agitation, the
tears streaming from their eyes, and their arms stretched forth to
embrace the young men, whose progress was impeded by the throng of
sympathising spectators eager to shake hands with them. In the midst
of the confusion the piercing voice of the French detective, Joseph
Pitou, was heard, calling for a doctor. A sudden hush fell upon the
Court, and all eyes were turned upon the detective, who had resumed
his place behind Dr. Pye. Upon leaving the witness box Detective
Lambert had stepped to the side of Dr. Vinsen, and had laid his hand
upon the miscreant's arm. Detected, and in the power of the law, the
wretch now stood in an attitude of abject fear.
One of the spectators recalled that while Detective Lambert was giving
his evidence he noticed that Dr. Pye gave a sudden start, and that a
moment or two afterwards he shuddered and drooped his head. He
ascribed this to the agitation caused by the revelations that were
being made.
"A doctor--a doctor!" screamed Joseph Pitou.
The physician who had been attending Abel Death and Gracie pushed his
way with difficulty to the French detective, and raised Dr. Pye's
head. There was a faint smile on his lips, expressive both of triumph
and contempt.
"Well? Well?" cried Joseph Pitou to the doctor.
The physician unclasped the silent man's fingers, and took from his
hand a small bronze instrument in the shape of a ball. A pressure on
one end of this ball released three needles, still slightly damp with
the liquid which had flowed to the points. With a grave look the
physician smelt the liquid, and, with his hand upraised for silence,
placed his ear to the heart of the man. An examination of his wrist
showed several minute punctures, caused by the needles. In this way
the deadly poison had been injected into his veins.
"Well, well?" cried Joseph Pitou again.
"He is dead," the physician replied.
* * * * *
Despite this tragic incident there was a scene of unparallelled
enthusiasm when the principal actors in the day's proceedings were
leaving the Court. The news had spread with the rapidity of lightning,
and crowds of people flocked to the spot; it was with difficulty the
police kept the approaches from being congested. As regards Gracie the
enthusiasm assumed the proportions of an ovation. Cheers were raised
for her, men and women stood on tiptoe to obtain a glimpse of her.
Lady Wharton stooped and kissed her, and pressed a bank note into her
hand. Gracie lifted her eyes gratefully, and gave the note to her
mother. Aunt Rob and Florence, the happy tears still in their eyes,
with Uncle Rob and Reginald and Dick, fluttered about her.
"Will you come home with us, Gracie?" asked Aunt Rob, with a tender
caress. "And you, Mr. and Mrs. Death?"
"No, thank you, ma'am," said Mrs. Death. "We must go to our little
ones."
"They haven't seen father for ever so long, ma'am," added Gracie. "Did
they ask for me, mother?"
"Yes, my darling, every day, over and over again. How glad they'll be!
How happy and grateful I am!"
"I will take you home in my carriage," said Lady Wharton, and then
energetically to her brother, "Fairfax, what _do_ you think of her?"
"Little brick," said Lord Fairfax.
Lady Wharton turned to the men and women who were pressing round them.
"Do keep off, good people, and let the child have air. You'll be the
death of her with your kindness."
"Dick!" said Gracie, putting her hand in his.
"God bless you, Gracie!" he said, kissing her.
"You'll come and see us, Dick."
"I am coming to-night, Gracie."
With her arms round his neck he carried her to the carriage.
A beautiful light shone in her eyes.