CHAPTER XIII
OLD NANON SPEAKS
Ashton-Kirk was at breakfast next morning when Fuller entered.
"I beg pardon," said the assistant, "but I've just had a call fromBurgess, and I thought you'd like to hear what he had to say."
"Good. Let's have it."
"He went to 424 Lowe Street last night after I gave him yourinstructions. It's a large building, once used as a factory, but nowrearranged as an apartment house. There was a gas-lighted sign over thedoor which said rooms might be had. Burgess took one on the fourthfloor, and in a conversation with the caretaker mentioned that he had afriend, a Pole, who had lived there.
"'Do you know Kendreg?' says the caretaker. 'He's right across the hallfrom you.'
"But Burgess says no, that's not the name. And when the man went away hewaited a while, and then knocked at the door opposite. The person whoopened in answer to the knock was a middle-aged man, stout and withgrayish hair. Burgess says he was enough like the description we had ofKarkowsky to be his twin brother."
Ashton-Kirk set down his coffee cup, a smile upon his face.
"It is Karkowsky himself, just as I expected," said he. "But," glancingat Fuller, "what happened then?"
"Burgess merely asked if he could bother him for a match, which thestout man provided willingly enough, and then promptly closed his door."
"Nothing more?"
"That is all, so far."
"What do the papers report that is new?"
"Nothing, except that Osborne has returned and will now plunge into theintricacies of the case with renewed zeal. They seem to suspect him ofhaving made wonderful discoveries of some sort."
"Have you heard anything from Purvis?"
"Yes. He reports that no one but Drevenoff has made any movement awayfrom the house in Fordham Road, Eastbury. And that _he_ has merelywalked about a little, apparently for exercise, or gone to the nearestpost-box to mail some letters."
"Dr. Morse is to be buried to-day, I believe?"
"Yes, at about noon."
It was at that hour that Stumph entered the study.
"There is a woman below, sir," said he. "She is quite old--and quiteremarkable. She wishes to speak to you, and says that I'm to inform youthat she is from Dr. Morse's."
"Bring her up."
Old Nanon came in a few moments later, grim, erect and angular. Her keeneyes seemed somewhat sunken, and her wrinkled face more gaunt; but herglance was as sharp as ever, and her mouth was set in the same sternline.
"You are surprised," she said, when she had seated herself and studiedhim for a moment. "You thought that because Simon Morse was beingcarried to the grave that I, an old servant of his family, would remainnear him to the last."
"It's the sort of thing that's usually expected," said the secret agent.
"No one who knows would expect it from me," said the old woman. "No onewho knows would expect it from me," she repeated, her lips forming thewords slowly, and her gray head swaying from side to side. "I knew himfrom a child. He was evil--possessed of evil; and what he was in thelast days of his life, so he was always."
Ashton-Kirk said nothing; he remained gazing at the old Breton woman,his hands clasping his knee and his head tilted so as to rest upon theback of his chair.
"There was never any other in the family like him," she continued. "Notone. I have known them for four generations. His great-grandmother itwas who employed me first; I was a girl then, and she was good to me.They were _all_ good to me, and I remained with them and served them aswell as I could. But there must have been something wicked in themsomewhere, something hidden and black, and in this son it showeditself." Here her voice lowered and she leaned toward the secret agent."In Brittany there is a belief that there are those gifted with astrange vision. Have I that, I wonder? Sometimes I have thought so; forit was I alone who saw Simon Morse entirely as he was. To be sure,others have heard him blaspheme, and still others have read his books.But I alone knew him for what he was."
The secret agent still sat attentively silent; if he wondered what allthis would eventually lead to, he made no sign.
"I have always been thankful," proceeded Nanon, "that only one of thefamily was so cursed. All those who had gone before were mild andreligious and gentle. And because of this I felt that I should notdesert this tainted one, but remain and strive with him, even if it didno good." She paused for a moment, and the bony old hands, with theirthick blue veins, were locked tightly together. "Yes," she resumed, "Iwas always thankful that only one of them was evil of heart, but now,"whisperingly, "I am not so sure that I have even that to be thankfulfor."
A faint wrinkle showed itself between the eyes of Ashton-Kirk; but otherthan this he made no sign that he was disturbed.
"Love," said the old woman, after a few moments, "is the one thing whichis thought to be the corrector of what is bad. Through love, I haveheard it said, the fair-hearted influences the wrong-doer. It is as abridge between them, over which is passed the saving grace. That is whatevery one says. But," and there was a note in her voice which was almostsavage, "is it true? And if it works one way, why should it not work theother? If good passes between two people because they love each other,why should not evil? And," very slowly, "Simon Morse and his niece weremuch attached to each other."
Through the open window, the roar of midday arose from the street. Thethroaty voices of peddlers, the grind of wheels and the warning cries ofdrivers were ceaseless; and below all this was an undertone, a subduedmurmurous undertone such as is made by cautious creatures, each with aprivate design.
"Sometimes," said the old woman, "things are expected, and when theycome they create no surprise. And, again, there are others which are sounexpected that they all but crush one to the earth."
Ashton-Kirk nodded.
"Something unexpected has happened," he said.
"You shall hear all for yourself," said the old servant. "It was forthat purpose that I came to you." She settled herself rigidly in herchair, upright, unbending, full of purpose. "I have read thenewspapers," she said. "I have heard the police and the coroner'sdeputy. They have all said much, and in the end their talk comes tothis: Philip Warwick murdered Simon Morse.
"Perhaps," and her gray eyes searched his face, "you too think so. Butno matter. I tell you, _and I know_, that he did not do this thing."
There was a moment's silence, then Ashton-Kirk said, quietly:
"Then who did?"
She gestured with both hands.
"Because I say that I know that _he_ did not," she replied, "does itfollow that I must know who _did_?" She waited for an answer, but asnone came, she went on: "You have heard that Philip Warwick and StellaCorbin were to be married? I thought so. He is a very boyish fellow; hewas proud of her and told every one. I was glad when I heard it, for Ithought them well mated. But Simon was not pleased; the young manperhaps would not follow where he led; at any rate he disliked him. Theyquite frequently had high words; but Mr. Warwick never allowed himselfto go too far in his resentment--at least never until lately. The daythat you first visited the house, they almost came to blows; and on thenight that Simon was killed, he actually struck his secretary."
"This was not told to the police," said the secret agent. "Why?"
"I was the only one that saw it," said the old woman, "and I did nottell of it because I knew that it would only make them suspect the youngman all the more."
"Go on," said Ashton-Kirk.
"This is how I came to be a witness to what passed between them. I hadgone to the front door to answer a ring, but it was only a person toinquire about some one who had lately left a house across the street. AsI closed the door, I saw that of the library ajar; and through theopening I saw Dr. Morse and Mr. Warwick standing facing each other.
"'Very well, then,' Mr. Warwick was saying, 'it shall be done in spiteof you.'
"And with that the other lifted his hand, and I heard the sound of theblow even where I stood."
"Did Warwick retur
n it?"
"I think not. I did not wait to see, however, but went on along thehall. I turned, though, as I reached the end, and saw Mr. Warwick stepout of the library and walk toward the stairs. He had gone up perhapsthree steps when he stopped and was about to turn back; but, though hewas fairly shaking with anger, he thought better of it and went on up tohis room."
"At what time was this?"
"Immediately after dinner." If such a thing were possible, the old womansat more erect than ever, the craggy brows bent over the sharp eyes, andthe voice sank a tone lower. "And as Philip Warwick went up the stairs,I saw Miss Stella come out of the room opposite the library; she stoodlooking after him--and on her face was a look which I had never noticedthere before. She had seen what had happened, and for some reason wasglad of it.
"There was nothing more, until I left the front door some time later andwent to the kitchen to make the coffee. Then I heard something on theback stairs. Thinking it might be Drevenoff, taken bad, I opened thedoor. But it was Miss Stella and Mr. Warwick. They stood on the landing,and were talking in low tones. I could not help overhearing what theysaid; and I remember it because I have repeated it over and over tomyself a thousand times since then.
"'Is it possible?' Mr. Warwick said. 'Have you really got it?'
"I did not hear what was said in answer; and then he spoke again.
"'But how in the world did you manage it? I know he thinks a great dealof you, but I never dreamed that he'd give----'
"Here she must have stopped him by putting her fingers to his lips, away that she had.
"'Don't stop to talk,' I heard Miss Stella say. 'You must go at once.And no matter what you hear, do not return until I send you word.'
"Then I closed the door softly, as they stole down-stairs; and after alittle again came the soft footfalls, this time going up the stairs."
There was a pause, and then the old woman crossed her hands in her lap,her eyes looking sternly into the face of Ashton-Kirk.
"It was only a few minutes after that," she said, "that I found SimonMorse dead in his chair.