XXXIII
IN WHICH WE CAN PARDON MR. GRYCE HIS UNFORTUNATE ILLNESS
"You didn't expect that? I thought I would surprise you, sir. Oh, Iknow what you want to say!" Sweetwater eagerly continued. "You missthe period and capital H which would show 'he' to be the beginning ofa proper name. But, sir, Mr. Gillespie would not have been the failingman he was, if by this time he could think of capitals, much lessperiods. He was not even able to complete the word, though heevidently failed to realise this. 'None of my sons. Hewson' is whatwas in his mind; you may take my word for that. And now," hetriumphantly concluded, after a short but satisfied contemplation ofmy face, "you can see why this dying man should expend his lastenergies in insuring the safe delivery of these words to the oneperson who knew his former dreadful suspicions. Shrinking as anyfather might from letting his sons know to what a fearful extent hehad misjudged them, and dreading, as he doubtless had good reason to,some interference on the part of Hewson if he attempted to call anyone in the house to his aid, he sent his little grandchild into thestreet----"
"But----"
"I know we are dealing with mere possibilities as yet, sir. But thesepossibilities are much more credible than the surmises in which wehave hitherto indulged. I feel as if free air had entered my lungs forthe first time since the inquest; and if I can refrain from yieldingtoo much to the intoxication of it----"
"But," I again repeated, determined to have my say out before he hadgone too far, "what motive can you ascribe to this poor old servantfor a death which robbed him of a master he had served devotedly foryears?"
"Motive be ----!" cried Sweetwater, in some heat. But, with his usualgood nature, he instantly begged my pardon, and his next words wereuttered with more restraint. "Facts first, motives afterwards. Whatmotive have we been able to find for the committal of this deed by anyone of his sons? Yet each and all of them have been suspected andalmost arraigned. Still," he concluded, "if you want a motive, searchfor it here," and he drew from his pocket a second folded paper, whichhe opened out before my eyes.
It was a copy of Mr. Gillespie's will.
"Ah!" I cried, in dim perception of what he meant.
"A thousand dollars," explained Sweetwater. "Not much in your eyes,but quite a fortune in his."
"And for so paltry a legacy you think that this man----"
Sweetwater's finger went to his lips. "Excuse me," said he, "but hadwe not better put back this typewriter on the shelf from which we tookit? If I do not mistake, it will figure largely in the trial which Iplainly see approaching."
I nodded, recognising the wisdom of the admonition thus given, andtogether we placed the typewriter back in the closet. Then he turnedtowards me with a new light in his small grey eye.
"And now, sir," he cried, "let me request you to stand back a trifle.I am going to finish this business."
Opening the door with a sudden jerk, he plunged into the hall. Ashadow was just disappearing from the opposite doorway. With a shoutto me to light up, he leaped across the hall into the dining-room. Thenext minute I heard a cry, then a low gurgle; then the match I hadhastily struck flared up, and I beheld the detective holding down thebutler and looking eagerly towards me for the expected light.
The man in the hall was by this time at my side, and between us wesoon had three jets lit, illuminating two white faces: Sweetwater'spale with triumph, Hewson's blue-white from fear.
"Murderer! Poisoner of your benefactor and friend, I have you atlast!" cried the struggling detective, watching how each terrible wordhe hurled blanched to a greater and greater degree the face he heldpressed back for our inspection.
"You could see without faltering your master's sons, the boys you havedandled on your knee, fall one after the other under the shadow ofpublic suspicion. Now we will see if you can show as much heroism onyour own account. You are the man who drugged Mr. Gillespie's wine;and if the officer here will take you in charge for an hour or so, Iwill go down and procure a warrant for your arrest."
The attack was so sudden, and Sweetwater's manner one of such completeconviction, that the old man succumbed to it without a struggle.
"Mercy!" he moaned. "I was old--tired of work--a little home--a littlefreedom in my old age--a--a----"
I fled from the room. It seemed as if the walls must cave in upon us.For this, for this!
The sight of a half-dozen frightened faces in the hall restored myself-possession. The servants had come up from below and stoodcrowding and jostling each other just as they had done three weeksbefore. At the sight of Hewson's cowering figure they began to moanand cry.
"Be quiet there!" exhorted Sweetwater, advancing upon them with thecourage born of his triumphant success. "The old man whom you havedoubtless thought the best-hearted and most reliable of you all hasjust confessed to the crime which has desolated this house and all butruined the three young gentlemen, your masters. Cry away if you wantto, but cry quietly and without giving the least alarm, for the goodnews has not gone upstairs yet, and this gentleman, who was the firstto announce Mr. Gillespie's death to his sons, naturally would likethe satisfaction of telling them that his murderer has been found. Ihave no doubt that Mr. George and his brother are to be found above."
"They be, sir, they be," spoke up a voice.
Sweetwater, whose divination of my wishes struck me as remarkable,stepped aside at this, and, waiting for me to pass him, followed me tothe floor above with a step so light he seemed to be buoyed up bywings.
As on a former memorable occasion, I stopped at George's door first.The knock I gave was followed by a rather surly invitation to enter.Excusing his un-graciousness in consideration of the fact that hisvisitors of late had not been entirely those of his own choice andconsequently far from welcome, I pushed open the door without anyother exhibition of feeling than an apologetic smile.
A scene of disorder confronted me; the disorder of an idle man whofeels that with the withdrawal of all women from the house he had lostall incentive to neatness, perhaps to decency. In its midst, andlolling on a table over which lay spread some cards he was pushingabout with idle fingers, sat George, much the worse for liquor, and byjust that much short of being the handsome man he was intended to beby nature.
At sight of me he rose, and, propping himself forward on the table,looked the inquiry he was probably unable to formulate in words. Ianswered as if he had spoken:
"You must pardon my intrusion, Mr. Gillespie. I have come to bring youvery good news."
"What news?"
"News of your brother's speedy release. News of your father'smurderer, who, though an inmate of his house, does not bear the nameof Gillespie. It is your butler, Hewson----"
With a shout he threw out his hands, and then sank panting and withdrooped head into the chair mercifully at hand to receive him.
"I have always sworn that Leighton was innocent," he cried out withunexpected vehemence. "In public and private, declared that--hecould--no more--have done--that thing----"
Sweetwater slipped from the room and I quietly followed, shutting thedoor softly behind me.
We went directly above; and this time found the room we wished tovisit, open. As the face of its natural occupant could be plainly seenfrom where we stood, we gratified our curiosity by a momentarycontemplation of it. Like his brother, Alfred Gillespie was sitting ata table, but he was neither flushed with wine nor engaged in idlerevery. On the contrary, he was very busy writing letters. But he wasnot satisfied with his work. He looked restless and disturbed, and, inthe minute or two we stood there watching him, tore up the wretchedscrawls he had just indited, with a groan indicative not only ofimpatience, but deep, almost heartrending anguish. On his pale browand in his attenuated frame few signs remained of the once luxuriousAlfred, and when, after a second attempt at expressing himself, hemade a dash at the unfinished letter and, crumpling it to nothing inhis hand, threw it into the fire, I turned to Sweetwater andwhispered:
"Cut this misery short."
The young detective n
odded, and with a clearing of his throat, meant,I am sure, as a warning, he advanced and entered the room, into whichI rapidly followed him. Without pausing for any greeting from theastonished Alfred, he at once presented me in the following manner:
"Mr. Gillespie, will you allow me the honour of presenting Mr.Outhwaite, who has come to offer you his hearty congratulations?"
"Congratulations!" I don't know whether I was more moved by thesarcasm or the despair expressed in this repetition of the word, whichmust have fallen with strange effect on Alfred Gillespie's ear. "Forwhat, may I ask?"
"For the speedy lifting of the cloud which has darkened this house;for the free and honourable return of your brother from his presentplace of detention, and the incarceration in his stead of the old man,Hewson, who has just confessed to the crime of having poisoned yourfather."
"Hewson! Old Hewson!" Alfred rose with a wild laugh that was notunlike a curse. "You are playing with me! You are----"
"No," I interposed, with a decision he could not but recognise. "Farfrom it, Mr. Gillespie. What the detective says is true. Hewsonacknowledges the whole thing. He wanted a little home, knew that alegacy awaited him at your father's death, and wished to hasten hisenjoyment of it. Your father recognised him as his poisoner when toolate. He tried to communicate the fact to Miss Meredith in the fivewords: 'None of my sons. Hewson,' but his strength failed him, and heonly succeeded in impressing on the paper the unfinished words: '_oneof my sons he_.' The detective will explain."
"Ah!" was his troubled response, as he sank back into the seat fromwhich he had risen. Then as he met our eyes fixed sympathetically uponhim, he dropped his head upon his arms, crying brokenly: "Don't lookat me! Don't look at me! All this misery and shame! And it was Hewson!Oh, Hope! Hope!"
We left him. It was all we could do. As we stepped down together intothe lower hall, Sweetwater remarked to me, with one of his raresmiles:
"If you know of anyone to whom this unexpected clearing of theGillespie name will be especially gratifying, you are at liberty nowto make the good news known. I'm off for police headquarters, there tobegin those proceedings which will release Leighton Gillespie in timeto meet the body of his wife at Communipaw."