WEAVING THE WEB
Slowly the meaning of Winthrop's words dawned on the four men.
"It's false! false as hell!" thundered Douglas. He stepped forward and
seized Winthrop in a grip of iron and shook him as a dog would shake a
rat; then, before the others could intervene, threw the struggling man
on the floor. "Bah! you're not worth killing."
Whimpering with rage and weakness, Winthrop caught hold of the table
and dragged himself upright, and stood swaying on his feet.
"It's true, it's true!" he reiterated. "Look at her,"--pointing a
shaking finger to where Eleanor stood aghast, watching the scene. Her
hand was on the doorknob and she seemed poised for instant flight. A
curious smile twisted her pale lips as the men turned and faced her.
"He doesn't seem to have recovered from delirium tremens," she remarked
slowly.
"It may be, Miss Thornton,"--the Secretary of State spoke with grave
deliberation,--"but it is a serious charge which he is making, and I
think it had better be investigated now." Eleanor winced visibly, then,
controlling herself, advanced further into the room.
"I am at your service," she said with sudden hauteur, "but as I have an
important engagement later I trust you will be brief."
"Sit by me here, Eleanor." Colonel Thornton, who had listened to
Winthrop's charges in stupefied silence, pulled forward an armchair.
"Mr. Secretary, will you occupy the desk chair, and you," turning to
Winthrop, who cowered back as he caught the smoldering wrath in the
older man's eyes, "sit over there," pointing to a chair some distance
away.
Brett, seeing that Winthrop was too exhausted to move without
assistance, piloted him to the chair indicated by Thornton, and,
getting another chair, placed himself by Winthrop's side. Douglas, at a
sign from the Secretary, sat down at the further end of the table and
handed the statesman some paper and ink.
"Now, Mr. Winthrop," began the Secretary, "if you are more composed,
kindly answer my questions. Why have you waited all this time before
mentioning that you think Miss Thornton guilty of Senator Carew's
murder?"
"Because I've been drugged, so that I couldn't give evidence. I tried
twice to get a message to Brett, but Annette said she couldn't reach
him." Winthrop spoke with labored effort.
"Annette!" chorused Colonel Thornton, Brett, and Douglas, while the
Secretary and Eleanor looked their surprise.
"Yes, Annette," peevishly, "she used to come in occasionally to give me
water when those devilish nurses were neglecting me. She told me that
Brett was seldom at the house, and that she never had an opportunity to
speak to him alone."
"The monumental liar----" Brett checked himself. "Never mind that now,
Mr. Winthrop, go on with your story."
"She told me how Miss Thornton used to steal in and drug me, and asked
me why she did it."
"Great Heavens!" Eleanor's exclamation was followed by a half-strangled
laugh which ended in a sob. "What a viper!"
"You were not there last night," sputtered Winthrop vindictively,
"and therefore I didn't get my usual dose, so I can tell what I know
to-day." A triumphant leer distorted his features.
"Suppose you continue your story without making comments," directed the
Secretary sternly.
Winthrop nodded sullenly, then began: "You recollect that I spent
Monday night at the Alibi Club, Brett?"
"Yes."
"Well, when I left there I motored up Nineteenth Street, instead
of taking the more direct way home. I thought I would turn into
Massachusetts Avenue at Dupont circle, where there was less danger of
running into electric cars, for the rain was falling in such torrents
that I could hardly see through my wind-shield.
"When opposite the Owen residence I ran into a lot of waiting carriages
and motors, and had to slow down. In fact, I went so slowly that by
the time I was nearly opposite Miss Thornton's residence I stalled
my engine and had to get out in all the wet and crank up," he paused
dramatically. "You can imagine my surprise when I saw Miss Thornton
come down under the awning which led to her front door and stand at the
curb, looking up and down the street."
"How do you know it was Miss Thornton?" broke in Douglas harshly.
"There was a street lamp by the side of the awning and the light fell
full on her; besides, I recognized the scarlet cloak she was wearing. I
have seen it many times."
"What did my niece do, besides standing still and looking up and down
the street?" demanded Colonel Thornton scornfully.
"She ran out into the middle of the street and down where a carriage
was drawn up at the curb, opened the door, stood there talking,
apparently, for a few minutes, then shut the door and bolted back to
the awning, and I presume entered her house, as I saw no more of her."
"What did you do next?" inquired Douglas, with peculiar emphasis.
Winthrop flushed at his tone. "I had curiosity enough to step back and
see that it was Senator Carew's landau, the last of a long queue of
vehicles, at which she had stopped; then I went on about my business."
"Do you mean to say that you did not investigate further?" asked the
Secretary, leaning forward the better to scan Winthrop's face.
"No. I knew enough never to interfere with Senator Carew's love
affairs!" His sneer was intolerable.
"By God!" Colonel Thornton sprang to his feet and advanced on
Winthrop, but Brett stepped between the two men.
"Have a little patience, Colonel," he said, pushing the irate man
toward his seat; "then you can settle with Mr. Winthrop."
"Do you think I'm going to sit here and listen to aspersions on my
niece's character?" he shouted. "Let me get my hands on that scoundrel!"
"Wait, Uncle Dana,"--Eleanor leaned forward and placed her hand on
his arm,--"let him finish; then I will speak," and her lips closed
ominously.
"That is excellent advice," agreed the Secretary; "resume your seat,
Colonel Thornton." His tone of command was not to be denied, and
Thornton dropped back in his chair. "Now, Mr. Winthrop, explain your
last remark."
"Senator Carew told me on Monday afternoon that he expected to marry
Miss Thornton, and that he intended to spend the evening with her."
Douglas leaned forward and gazed earnestly at Eleanor, but she refused
to meet his look, and with a troubled expression he turned his
attention to Winthrop, who was again speaking.
"I told Senator Carew that I had heard a member of one of the embassies
here declare that Miss Thornton was an international spy."
"And what did he say to that statement?"
"He said that he would look into the matter."
"When did this conversation take place?"
"On Monday afternoon."
"And is that all you have to go upon for such an accusation?" inquired
Brett scornfully.
Douglas was gazing moodily ahead of him. A memory of Paris, of
Eleanor's extraordinary behavior there, of the whispers which followed
her about, harassed him. Had his faith been misplaced? No, a thousand
times no. He would pin all hope of future happiness on her innocence
and purity of soul. He rose suddenly and stepped behind her chair, and
laid his hand encouragingly on her shoulder. She looked up, startled,
then, seeing him, her lips parted in a smile, and her hand stole up to
meet his. His firm clasp gave her courage to face the situation, for it
told her of his unshaken confidence and love.
Winthrop glowered at them when he saw the tableau, and his eyes gleamed
wickedly. "It is very obvious," he said, "that Senator Carew found
my statement was true, and charged her with being a spy; then left
her house. Exposure meant Miss Thornton's ruin; even her influential
relatives,"--he glanced meaningly at Thornton,--"could not intervene
to save her, so she took the law into her own hands, picked up the
letter file, stole out of the house, opened the carriage door, engaged
the Senator in conversation--and stabbed him."
A strained silence followed, which the Secretary was the first to
break. He turned directly to Eleanor.
"You called to see Secretary Wyndham at the Navy Department on
Wednesday morning, did you not, Miss Thornton?"
Douglas' hand tightened involuntarily, but Eleanor showed no sign of
agitation as she answered, "Yes, Mr. Secretary, I did."
"Have you anything further to say, Mr. Winthrop?"
"Not now, Mr. Secretary."
"Then let me suggest," exclaimed Thornton, "that Mr. Winthrop, in
trying to implicate my niece in a dastardly crime, has but established
his own guilt."
"How so?" The question shot from Winthrop's clenched teeth.
"We all know from the testimony of reputable servants that Senator
Carew and you had quarreled," continued Thornton. "We know your habits
are none of the best; we know that you have suddenly become possessed
of large sums of money----"
Winthrop moistened his dry lips. "I deny it," he exclaimed.
Thornton paid no attention to the interruption. "You alone knew where
Senator Carew was spending the evening, and you went there and laid in
wait for him, and now, you despicable cur, you are trying to lay the
blame on an innocent girl."
Winthrop rose, goaded by the scornful looks of the others. "I may
have had the motive and the opportunity to kill Senator Carew," he
admitted sullenly, "but I did not have--the weapon. The criminal sits
there,"--he pointed at Eleanor;--"I am absolutely positive of her
guilt, for the letter file used to kill the Senator belonged to a
silver desk set given her by Miss Cynthia Carew."
Thornton frowned and turned a troubled countenance toward Eleanor, who
nodded reassuringly as she rose to her feet, stepped back to Douglas'
side, and, leaning on the back of the chair she had just vacated,
addressed the Secretary.
"I am a young girl, Mr. Secretary," she began, "and, living alone as I
do, I have been forced on numerous occasions to use my own judgment.
It would have been better, perhaps, had I spoken of certain events
before this, but I was so alarmed by the position in which I found
myself placed that I foolishly held my tongue. I had hoped that certain
facts would not become public. Those facts Mr. Winthrop has maliciously
distorted. I have been guilty of a blunder, not a crime."
"I would be most happy to believe you, Miss Thornton," said the
Secretary gravely; "but to probe this matter to the bottom I must ask
certain questions."
"Which I will gladly answer."
"Did Senator Carew call on you on Monday night?"
"He did, reaching my house about nine-thirty, just before the rain
commenced."
"Did anyone else know that he was there?"
"Only my Japanese butler, Fugi, who admitted him. My cousin, Mrs.
Truxton, who is spending the winter with me, had gone to bed
immediately after dinner."
"Was Annette in the house?" asked Brett quickly.
"No, it was her evening out. She returned shortly after the Senator
left."
"At what hour did he go?" questioned the Secretary.
"About half-past twelve o'clock."
"Wasn't that rather an unusual hour for him to stay?"
Eleanor colored warmly. "It was most unusual," she admitted. "But the
pouring rain was responsible for that. He telephoned for a herdic cab
or a taxi, but they were all engaged, and he waited, hoping that one
would eventually be sent to my house."
"Mr. Winthrop spoke of an awning at your door, Miss Thornton," again
broke in Brett. "I have passed your house a number of times and have
never seen one."
"I had a large tea on Monday afternoon, and had the awning put up for
that occasion, as the weather was threatening and my house stands some
distance from the curb. The awning was removed early the next morning."
"It is not so very far from your house to the Senator's residence,"
mused the Secretary. "I should have thought, considering the lateness
of the hour, that he would have walked home."
"But he was not going home, Mr. Secretary. He told me that he was going
to drive to your house, as he had to see you immediately on your return
that night."
"Indeed!" The Secretary was bending forward in his eagerness. "Did the
Senator state what he wished to see me about?"
"Only in a general way. He said that he had that afternoon discovered
proof of a gigantic plot against the United States; that the secrets
of the Government were being betrayed; and that he must give you the
names of the arch traitor and his confederate. He called up your house
by telephone earlier in the afternoon, and found that you were expected
home on the eleven o'clock train."
"I had intended to take it, but was detained at the last moment by
pressing business and did not reach Washington until the following
night," explained the Secretary. "If he couldn't get a cab, why did
he not call up his own house and send for his carriage earlier in the
evening?"
"He tried to, Mr. Secretary, but his telephone was out of order, and no
one answered the stable call."
"How, then, did he get his own carriage?"
"My drawing-room windows look out on Nineteenth Street, and the
Senator, in one of his numerous trips to discover if the rain was
letting up, saw his carriage standing in front of my door. He
recognized the horses and Hamilton by the light from the lamp-post
under which they stood, waiting for the long queue of carriages
ahead to move up the street. The Senator instantly decided to enter
his carriage, wait for Cynthia, and then drive to your house, Mr.
Secretary."
"So that's how he got into the carriage without getting wet," cried
Brett; "the awning protected him. I suppose he just popped into his
carriage and said nothing to Hamilton, as he intended to wait for his
niece, and Hamilton was too befuddled with drink and the storm to
notice the opening and closing of the door. Did you watch the Senator
leave the house?"
Eleanor shook her head. "No," she said.
"Miss Thornton,"--the Secretary bent forward impressively,--"were you
engaged to Senator Carew?"
Eleanor's color rose, but she faced the keen eyes watching her
unflinchingly. "No, Mr. Secretary; the Senator did me the honor to ask
me to marry him on Monday night, but I refused."
"Then you deny running out after his carriage, which Mr. Winthrop
declares you did?"
"No, sir, I do not deny it. Mr. Winthrop is quite right." She paused,
and the men looked at her expectantly. "I have a quest in life--not the
one attributed to me by this gentleman,"--waving her hand scornfully
toward Winthrop, who was listening to her statement with an incredulous
smile distorting his features,--"but an honorable legacy which my dear
mother left me to execute.
"On bidding me a hasty good night, Senator Carew, whether in jest or
earnest, told me that, if I would marry him, he would assist me to
bring my mission to a successful conclusion."
"Would you mind stating what this quest is?" asked the Secretary.
Eleanor hesitated. "It is a family matter, and I would rather not go
into it just now. But--if necessary--I promise to explain later."
The Secretary did not press the point. "Continue your story, Miss
Thornton."
"About five minutes or more after the Senator left I came
to the conclusion that my duty"--she glanced appealingly at
Douglas--"compelled me to marry him. On an impulse, I picked up my
cloak, which was hanging on the hall rack, opened the front door, and
ran down to the curb.
"The Carew landau is easily recognized, and after peering up and down
the street I saw that it had moved up several doors. Without stopping
to think or consider the consequences, I ran down the street to the
carriage and opened the door----" She stopped, breathless.
"Go on, go on," urged Douglas.
"I opened the door," she repeated, "and, as God is my witness, I found
Senator Carew sitting there--_dead._"