XIII
INDICATIONS
These concluding words of Sam Underhill show the trend of publicopinion at this time. But I was not swayed by the general prejudice,nor, to all appearance, were the police. Though enough poison wasfound in Mr. Gillespie's remains to have caused the death of anyordinary man in fifteen minutes, no arrests were made, nor was Mr.Gillespie's favourite son subjected to any closer surveillance thanthe other members of this once highly respected family.
Meanwhile, the papers were filled with gossip about the case, whichwas now openly regarded as one of murder. In one column I read asemi-humorous, semi-serious account of how George Gillespie actuallyonce won a bet in face of all odds and to the confounding of those whotrusted in his invariable ill-luck; and in another how Leighton hadworn out his father's patience by a most persistent association withthe most degraded classes, an association which led him into all sortsof extravagances. As a sample of these, and to show how entirely hisfollies differed from those of his elder brother, he has been known toorder breakfast at a restaurant and disappear in the wake of aSalvation Army procession before the meal could be served. They neverknew at home when to expect him in, or at what moment he might leavethe family circle. He was so restless, he rarely sat an evening out inany one place. Without any apparent reason, he would often leave inthe midst of concert, sermon, or lecture, and has been known more thanonce to dash away from a theatrical performance as if his lifedepended upon his reaching the open air. And he never expected to becriticised or questioned. If he were, he found some apology to suitthe occasion; but the apology was forced, and the person who called itforth rarely repeated the offence.
Only a small paragraph was devoted to Alfred. In it his temporaryengagement to Miss Saxton of Baltimore was mentioned, and a somewhatcruel account given of the way he jilted this young lady on his returnto the city. As this was coincident with the arrival of Hope at heruncle's house, I needed no further explanation of his fickleness.
All this gossip about people in whom I had come to take so deep aninterest both worried and unsettled me; and I found myself lookingforward with mingled dread and expectation to the public inquiry,which I had every reason to hope would separate some of these threads,in the network of which my own heart had become so unfortunatelyentangled.
It had been called for Thursday, and when that day came I was one ofthe first to appear upon the scene. Not a word of what passed escapedme; not a look nor a sign. Miss Meredith, who entered on the arm ofLeighton, wore a veil thick enough to conceal her features. But I didnot need to pierce that veil to imagine the expression of anxiety anddistress she thus concealed from the crowd. George, who had resumedhis usual manner, sat, conspicuous in height and good looks, among agroup of witnesses, some of whom I knew and some not. Dr. Bennett satat my side, and had so little to say that I did not attempt to disturbhim, having respect for the grief with which he regarded the untimelyend of his life-long friend and patient.
The first witness was myself.
As my testimony contained nothing which has not been already veryfully related in these pages, I will pass over this portion of thescene, with the single remark that in the course of my wholeexamination, which was a lengthy and exhaustive one, I allowed noexpression to escape me likely to prejudice the minds of those aboutme against any one of Mr. Gillespie's sons. For it was apparent,before I had been upon the stand ten minutes, that an effort was beingmade to fix the crime on Alfred; and what surety could I have thatthis result would not plunge a barbed arrow into the breast of herabout whom my fancy had drawn its magic circle? As I sat down, Iglanced her way, and it seemed to me there was meaning in the slightacknowledgment she made me with her ungloved hand. But what meaning?
The inquiry thus being opened, and curiosity roused as to the motivewhich led Mr. Gillespie to summon a stranger to his side at a momentso vital and under circumstances seemingly calling for theministrations of those nearest and dearest to him, various experts andphysicians were called to prove that his death had not been caused bydisease, but by the action of prussic acid on a sufficiently healthysystem. With the establishment of this fact the morning's inquiryclosed.
As Miss Meredith was likely to be the first witness called at theafternoon session, I felt it my duty as her lawyer to approach her atthis time with the following question, quite customary under thecircumstances:
"Miss Meredith," said I, "you will probably soon be subjected to asearching inquiry by the coroner. May I ask if there is any specialpoint or topic concerning which you would prefer to keep silence? Ifso, I can insist upon your privilege."
The look of mingled surprise and indignation with which she regardedme was a sufficient answer in itself. Yet she chose to say, and saycoldly, after a moment of reflection:
"I have nothing to conceal. He can ask no question I shall not beperfectly willing to answer."
Abashed by the construction she had put upon my words, as well asgreatly hurt by her manner, I bowed and drew off. Evidently she hadfelt her candour impugned and her innocence questioned, and, in herignorance of legal proceedings, thought she had only to speak thetruth to sustain herself in my eyes and in those of the crowdassembled to hear her.
This sort of self-confidence is common in witnesses, especially insuch as are more conscious of their integrity than of the pitfallsunderlying the simplest inquiry; and however much I might deplore hershort-sightedness and wish that she had better understood both myselfand her own position, it was plain that, in the light of what had justpassed between us, all interference on my part would be regarded byher as an insult, and that I would be expected to keep silence underall circumstances, let the consequences be what they would.
It was an outlook far from agreeable either for the lawyer or lover,and the recess which now ensued was passed by me in a state of dreadof which she in her inexperience had little idea.
Upon the reseating of the jury, her name, just as I had anticipated,was the first one called.
The emotions with which I saw her rise and throw aside her veil underthe concentrated gaze of the unsympathetic crowd convened to hear hertestimony, first revealed to me the absoluteness of her hold upon me;and when I heard the buzz of admiration which followed the disclosureof her features, I was conscious of colouring so deeply that I fearedmy secret would become the common property of the crowd. But the spellcreated by her beauty still held, and all regards remained fixed uponher countenance, now eloquent with feelings which for the moment wereshared by all who looked upon her.
Her voice when she spoke deepened the effect of her presence. It wasof that fine and resonant quality which awakens an echo in allsensitive hearts and carries conviction with it even to the mostcallous and prejudiced. It lost some of its power perhaps as the earbecame accustomed to it; but to the very end of her testimony, I notedhere and there persons who looked up every time she spoke, as if someinner chord responded to her tones--tones which, more than her face,conveyed the impression of a nature exceedingly deep and exquisitelysensitive.
She, meantime, failed to realise the effect which her appearance hadproduced. She had been questioned, and was striving earnestly andconscientiously to do justice to her oath, and relate ascircumstantially as possible what she knew of her uncle's suddendeath.
This is what I heard her say:
"I was my uncle's typewriter. I assisted him often with hiscorrespondence and was accustomed to go in and out of his study as ifit were my own room. On this night, I had written several letters forhim, and being tired had gone upstairs for a little rest. But I wastoo anxious to be of assistance to him--his mail that evening wasunusually large--to retire without one more effort to relieve him; soI went down again a little after ten. I had heard steps in the hall afew minutes before, and little Claire's voice somewhere about thehouse, but I did not encounter anyone in going down, perhaps because Iwent by the way of the rear stairs, as I often do when I am in ahurry. Little, little did I imagine what was before me. When I reachedmy uncle's door,--but you know
what a terrible sight met me. There laymy kind--my good----"
We all waited, our hearts in our mouths, but in a moment more shechoked down her emotion and was ready to go on.
"He was dead. I knew it at first glance, yet I raised no cry. I couldnot. I seemed in an instant to have become marble. I saw him lying atmy feet and did not weep a tear. I did not even touch him. I merelystaggered to the table at the side of which he had fallen, andmechanically, but with a stoppage of my heart's action which made theinstant one of untold horror to me, lifted the carriage of thetypewriter which he had evidently been using when struck with death,and looked to see what his last words had been. I had reason forbelieving that they would convey some warning to me or at least anexplanation of his sudden death. And they did, or so I interpreted theisolated phrase I came upon at the end of the unfinished letter Ifound there. God knows I may have been mistaken as to what those fivewords meant, but I was so impressed with the belief that they wereadded there for my personal enlightenment that I reeled under theresponsibility thus forced upon me, and, hardly conscious of what Iwas doing, tore off, with almost criminal haste, the portioncontaining these words, and fled with them out of the sight and reachof everyone in the house. It was a mad thing to do, and I speedilyregretted the insane impulse which had actuated me, for I was verysoon discovered in the remote spot to which I had fled, and the pieceof paper was found, and--and----"
How could she be expected to go on?
"Have we that piece of paper here?" asked the coroner.
It was produced, identified, and passed down to the jury.
It was my opinion at the time, and is still, that she told her storythus fully in order to elude the questions which any apparentreticence on her part would assuredly have evoked. But, havingreached this point, it seemed impossible for her to go farther. Shedrooped, not under the eyes of the crowd, but under the fixed gaze ofher three cousins. Had she hoped for some signs of sympathy from themwhich she failed to receive, or, at least a partial recognition, ontheir part, of the suffering she was undergoing in the cause of truthand justice? If so, no such recognition came. George's fine faceshowed anger and anger only; Leighton's, a cold impassibility whichmight have passed for the stolidity of an utterly unfeeling man if hishands had not betrayed his inner restlessness and torment; whileAlfred's flashing eye and set lips made plain the fact that hisemotions clung to his own position rather than to hers--as wasnatural, perhaps, with that slip of paper going the rounds of thejury, and calling up from that respectable body startled, uneasy, ormenacing looks, according to the nature of the man examining it.
You remember that slip; a business communication broken into by thesetotally irrelevant words, "one of my sons He". Is it any wonder thatthese twelve commonplace men keenly felt their position in face ofwhat looked like a direct accusation from the father's hand?
Yet as these five words, simple in themselves and gaining meaning onlyfrom the effort which this young girl had made to suppress them, werecapable of being construed in a hundred different ways, the faceswhich at first blush mirrored but one thought gradually assumed anon-committal aspect, which would have been more encouraging to themen thus compromised, if the facts still to be brought out inexplanation of Miss Meredith's conduct towards them had not been of sodamaging a character.
Hope, who surmised, if she did not know, the contents of the lettershe now heard rustling in the coroner's hand, awaited his nextquestion with evident perturbation. Alfred, who may have hoped thatthis letter would not appear so early in the examination, forgothimself for a moment and cast a look at his brothers, which they tookpains to ignore, perhaps because of the effort it cost them topreserve their own countenances in face of the impending ordeal.
I was witness both to this appeal and its rebuff, but to allappearance Dr. Frisbie saw neither. He was deciding with what form ofwords to introduce his new subject.
"Miss Meredith," he said at last, "you will now take this letter inyour own hand. Have you ever seen it before?"
"Yes, sir, it was a letter which was entrusted to me by my uncle, andwhich I was told to preserve in secrecy so long as he retained hishealth and life."
"It is addressed, as all may see: _To my three sons, George, Leighton,and Alfred Gillespie._ Miss Meredith, did you understand by thesewords that the enclosed was intended equally for your three cousins?"
"Yes, sir. My uncle Archibald told me so. He expressly said, in givingit into my charge, that in the event of his sudden or unexplainabledeath, his three sons were to read this letter together."
"It has been opened, I see. Is that a sign it has been so deliveredand read?"
"Yes, sir. When on the night I made that inconsiderate attempt tosuppress the slip of paper on which my uncle had transcribed the fivewords you have just shown to the jury, one of my cousins reproached mewith having drawn erroneous and unwarrantable conclusions from whatwas there written. I justified myself by handing over this letter.Though I was never shown its contents, I was well aware of thecircumstances under which it was written and--and I was certain itwould prove my best excuse for what would otherwise have seemedmonstrous in one--who----"
She was too disturbed to proceed.
The coroner looked at her kindly, but it was no part of his duty toallow any sympathy he might feel for the witness to interfere with hisendeavour to reach the truth. He therefore urged her to relate thecircumstances to which she alluded; in other words, to explain howthis letter addressed collectively to her three cousins came to bewritten.
She grew still more distressed.
"Does not the letter explain itself?" she remonstrated. "Spare me, Ipray. My uncle's sons have been brothers to me. Do not make me repeatwhat passed between my uncle and myself on that unhappy morning whenhe first unburdened himself of his intolerable grief."
"I fear that I cannot spare you," replied the coroner; "but I willgrant you a short respite while this letter, or such portions of it asbear upon Mr. Gillespie's death, is being read to the jury. Gentlemen,it is written in Mr. Gillespie's own hand, and it is dated just amonth prior to his unhappy demise. Miss Meredith, you may sit."
She fell rather than sank into the chair offered her, and for a momentI felt myself the prey of a boundless indignation as I witnessed thecallousness shown towards her by the three men who up to this time hadpresumably regarded her with more or less affection. To me herposition called for their especial sympathy. The heroism she evincedwas the heroism of a loving woman who sacrifices herself, and what isdearest to her, to her idea of justice and law. And while such actionmay be easy for a man, it is hard beyond expression for a woman, who,as we know, is much more apt to listen to the voice of her heart thanto any abstract appeal of right and justice. Yet these same relativesof hers sat still and scarcely looked her way, though she glancedrepeatedly and with heartrending appeal in their direction.
I am quite ready to admit that I was too prejudiced a witness to bejust to these men. Had I not myself been under the influence of asudden and violent passion, I would have seen that Alfred neededsympathy as well as she; for Alfred was the man most menaced by thecontents of the letter now on the point of being read; and he knewthis as certainly as she did.
As this letter is better known to you than it was to me up to thishour, I leave you to judge of its effect upon the jury and the excitedcrowd of spectators thronging the room at every point. Heads which hadwagged in doubt now drooped in heaviest depression; and while all eyesseemed to shrink from an attempt to read the three white faces on thewitnesses' bench, the attention of all was concentrated there, and itwas with quite a sense of shock that Dr. Frisbie's voice was heardrising again in renewed examination of the young lady whoseprecipitate action had brought to public notice this touching letterof a heartbroken father.
His first question was a leading one. Had Mr. Gillespie followed uphis former confidences by any further allusions to the attempt whichhad been made upon his life?
Her answer was a direct negative. Though she had detected i
n her unclesigns of great unhappiness, he had held no further conversation withher on this topic, and life had gone on as usual in the great house.
"But he talked of poisons, and refused to take any more of themedicine which came so near killing him?"
"Uncle Archibald took no more of this medicine, certainly. That is, Isaw no more of it in the house. But he never talked of poisons, thatis, publicly or in my presence."
"Not at the table?"
"Not after that night, sir."
"He had before?"
"Only incidentally. He had laughed at some of Dr. Bennett's remarks,and once I heard him mention the danger of taking an overdose of theremedy that was doing him so much good. It was while jesting with meupon my refusal to allow anyone else to portion it out for him."
"That was your duty, then?"
"Assuredly."
"Were you in the habit of preparing his glass when alone or in thepresence of his sons?"
"As it happened, sir. I had but one dread; that of miscounting thedrops."
"And he took no more of this medicine after that especial night?"
"No, sir. He asked Dr. Bennett for a narcotic of less dangerousproperties, and was given chloral."
"Did you hear any remarks made on this change?"
"None."
"What became of the phial which held the remainder of this medicinemarked 'Poison'?"
"I emptied it out at my uncle's request."
"You were your uncle's nurse, then, typewriter, and friend?"
"He trusted me, sir, in all these capacities."
"Did he trust you with his business concerns?"
"Not at all. I merely wrote letters to his dictation."
"Did you know, or have you ever heard, the value of his estate?"
"I have never even asked myself whether he counted his fortune bythousands or millions."
The dignity, the simplicity, with which this was said made it animpressive termination to a very painful examination. As I noted theeffect it produced, I was in hopes that she would be allowed to retirefor the day. But the coroner had other views. With a hesitancy thatmore or less prepared us for what was to come, he addressed her again,saying quietly:
"I have spared you a public reading of certain portions of youruncle's letter, referring to yourself and the wishes he openlycherished in your behalf. In return, will you inform me if you areengaged to marry any one of these young men?"
The thrill, the start given to the witnesses' bench by this pointedquestion, communicated itself to officer and spectator. In George'sfiery flush and Alfred's sudden paleness, emotions could be seen atwork of sufficient significance to draw every eye; though few present,I dare say, ascribed these emotions to their rightful sources. Tomyself, divided as I was in feeling between the anxiety I could notbut feel as her lawyer to see her parry a question too personal not tobe humiliating, and the interest with which, as her lover, I awaited aresponse which would solve my own doubts and make clear my ownposition, there was something in the attitude of both these menstrongly suggestive of a like uncertainty. Were her feelings, then, asmuch of a mystery to them as they were to me? Did George fear to hearher say she was engaged to Alfred, and Alfred dread to hear her admitthat she was irrevocably pledged to George? If so, what a situationhad been evolved by this question publicly put by a city functionary!No wonder the young girl dropped her eyes before venturing a reply.
But the spirit of self-protection, always greater in woman than in manwhere heart secrets are involved, gave her strength to meet thiscrisis with a baffling serenity. Raising her patient eyes, she repliedwith a sweet composure which acted like a tonic upon the agitatedhearts about her:
"There is no such engagement. I have lived in their house like asister. Their father was my mother's brother."
Another man than Coroner Frisbie would have let her go, but thishonest, if kindly, official was strangely tenacious when he had apoint to gain. Flushing himself, for her look was directed quitesteadily upon him, he gravely repeated:
"Do you mean to say that no words of love ever passed between you andany of these gentlemen?"
This was too much. Expecting to see her recoil, possibly break down, Ieagerly looked her way for the permission to interfere, which shemight now be ready to give me. But with a proud lift of her head sheshowed herself equal to the emergency, and her answer, given simplyand with no attempt at subterfuge, restored her at once to thedignified position we all dreaded to see her lose.
"I mean to say nothing but the truth. Mr. George Gillespie has morethan once honoured me by making me an offer of his hand. But I did notconsider myself in a position to accept it."
Dr. Frisbie showed her no quarter.
"And your cousin Alfred?"
"Alfred?" Her eyes no longer met those of the coroner or anyone elsein that cruel crowd. "He," she stammered proudly, "has neverinterfered with whatever claims his brother may have been supposed tohave upon my favour."
It was a statement to awaken turmoil in more than one of the uneasyhearts behind her. George bounded to his feet, though he quicklysubsided again into his seat, ashamed of this betrayal, or fearful ofthe effect it might have upon his brother. Alfred, on the contrary,sat still, but the bitterness visible in his smile spoke volumes, and,seeing it, the whole crowd recognised what had long been apparent tomyself, that these two brothers were rivals in the love they bore thiswoman, and that it was through her desire to shield the one shefavoured, that she made the first false move which had drawn theattention of the police to the doubtful position held by Mr.Gillespie's sons.
That her choice had fallen upon the man who had not interfered withhis brother's rights seemed only too probable, and I expected thecoroner to force this acknowledgment from her lips, but he grewconsiderate all at once and inquired instead if Mr. Gillespie had beenmade aware of his elder son's wishes. She replied to this by saying:
"They were no secret in the house"; and, with a look, begged him tospare her.
But this man was inexorable.
"And did he approve of the match?"
"He did."
"Yet you failed to engage yourself?"
This she deemed already answered.
"If the younger brother had pressed his suit for your hand, do youthink that under the circumstances your uncle would have sanctionedsuch rivalry?"
This, perhaps, she could not answer. At all events she was as silentas before.
"Miss Meredith," proceeded her tormentor, utterly oblivious orentirely careless of the suffering he caused her, "do you know whetheryour uncle and his youngest son ever had any words on this subject?"
Her hands involuntarily flew out in piteous entreaty.
"Ask this question of the only person who can answer it," she cried."I only know that I have been treated with great respect in the houseof my uncle."
With that, the proceedings closed for the day.