CHAPTER IX.
JOINING THE MISSING LINKS.
The scene which transpired in the next few minutes was harrowing. Therevulsion of feeling, the shock, the surprise and the horror werealmost too much for human nature to bear. Groan after groan burst fromMr. Argyll, as if his breast were being rent in twain. Mary tottered toher sister and threw herself at her feet, with her head buried in herlap; if she had not been so healthily organized, and of such an eventemperament, I know not how she would have survived this frightfulcheck to her hopes and affections. It seemed as if Eleanor, who hadlived only to suffer for so many weary months, had now moreself-possession than any of the others; her thin, white hand fellsoftly on her sister's curls with a pitying touch; and after a time,she whispered to her some words. My own surprise was nearly as much asany one's; for, although many times I had _felt_ that James was theguilty one, I had always tried to drive away the impression, and hadfinally almost succeeded.
In the mean time no one went to the unhappy man, who found a temporaryrelief from shame and despair in insensibility. All recoiled from him,as he lay upon the floor. Finally, Mr. Burton forced himself to raisehim; consciousness was returning, and he placed him on the sofa, andgave him a handkerchief wet with cologne.
Presently Mary arose from her kneeling position, and looked around theroom until her glance fell on me, when she came toward me, and graspedboth my hands, saying,
"Richard, _I_ never accused you--I always felt that you were innocent,and always said so. You must forgive the others for my sake. My fatherand sister will bear me witness that I always defended you from theaccusations of one who, it is now proved, sought with double, withinconceivable baseness, to divert suspicion from himself toanother"--her voice trembled with scorn. "I never wanted to marry him,"she added, bursting into tears, "but they overpersuaded me."
"Quiet yourself, sister," said Eleanor, gently, arising and approachingus. "We have all wronged you, Richard--I fear beyond forgiveness. Alas!we can now see what a noble enemy you have been!"
In that moment I felt repaid for all I had suffered, and I said withjoy,
"Never an enemy, Miss Argyll; and I forgive you, wholly."
Then there was another stir; James had risen to slip away from thecompany, now so distasteful to him; but Mr. Burton again stood betweenhim and egress; as he did so, he said,
"Mr. Argyll, it is for you to decide the fate of this miserable man. Ihave kept all my proceedings a secret from the public; I even allowedGeorge Thorley to remain in Mexico, for I thought your family hadalready suffered enough, without loading it down with the infamy ofyour nephew. If you say that he shall go unpunished by the law, I shallabide by your wish; this matter shall be kept by the few who now knowit. For _your_ sakes, not for his, I would spare him the death which hedeserves; but he must leave the country at once and for ever."
"Let him go," said the uncle, his back turned upon the murderer, towardwhom he would not look. "Go, instantly and for ever. And remember,James Argyll, if I ever see your face again, if I ever hear of yourbeing anywhere in the United States, I shall at once cause you to bearrested."
"And I, the same," added Mr. Burton. "God knows, if it were not forthese young ladies, whose feelings are sacred to me, I would not letyou off so easily."
He opened the door, and James Argyll slunk out into the night, andaway, none knew whither, branded, expatriated, and alone--away, withoutone look at the fair, beautiful girl who was so soon to have been hisbride--away, from the home he had periled his soul to secure.
When he had gone, we all breathed more freely. Mr. Burton had yet muchto say, for he wished to close this horrible business for ever. He tookthe surgical instrument which we had found in the tree, and fitted itto the piece which had been extracted from the body of the murderedman, and showed the family the initials of George Thorley upon it. Hethen produced the written confession of Thorley, which we all read forourselves; but as it contained only, in a plain statement, the factsalready given, I will not repeat them here. He then proceeded with thehistory of the DEAD LETTER, which, also, he had with him, and whichproved to be in the same handwriting as the confession. In speaking ofthe curious manner in which this document had been lost, to berecovered in the right time by the right person, he seemed to considerit almost awfully providential.
From this he went on with a minute history of all the steps taken byboth of us, our journey over the ocean, the wonderful success whichwaited upon patience, perseverance and energy, securing the finaltriumph of justice; and, to conclude with, he said,
Page 297.
"I NEVER ACCUSED YOU."]
"I owe, still, a good many explanations both to you, Mr. Argyll, and toMr. Redfield. I can not lay before you the thousand subtle threads bywhich I trace the course of a pursuit like this, and which makes mesuccessful as a detective; but I can account for some things which attimes have puzzled both of you. In the first place there is about me apower not possessed by all--call it instinct, magnetism, clairvoyancy,or remarkable nervous and mental perception. Whatever it is, it enablesme, often, to _feel_ the presence of criminals, as well as of very goodpersons, poets, artists, or marked temperaments of any kind. The day onwhich this case was placed before me, it was brought by two young men,your nephew and this person now present. I had not been ten minuteswith them when I began to perceive that _the murderer was in the roomwith me_; and before they had left me, I had decided which was theguilty man. But it would have been unpardonable rashness to denouncehim without proof; by such a course I would throw him on the defensive,defeat the ends of justice, and overwhelm myself with denunciation. Iwaited and watched--I put him under surveillance. That night upon whichhe crossed the Brooklyn ferry to pay the money to the hired assassin, Iwas upon his track; I heard the angry dismay with which he accusedRichard of following him, when the other met him upon this side. It wasnot very long after I began to investigate the case before hecautiously approached me, as he did you, with hints of themight-be-guilty party; he made me see how much to the interest of hisfriend Richard it would be if rivals were out of the way, and howdesperately that person loved Miss Argyll. (Forgive me, friends, forusing plain language--the whole truth must be told.) But I need notdwell on his method, for you must be familiar with it. I confess thathe used consummate tact; if I had not read him from the first, I, too,might have been misled. He was not over-eager in the search forsuspected persons, as the guilty almost always are. He did _not_suspect Miss Sullivan, as Richard did. I favored the pursuit of MissSullivan for two reasons; the first was to conceal my real suspicions;the next was, after finding her handkerchief in the garden, after theflight, and all those really strong grounds for supposing her connectedwith the murder, I began to think that she _was_ connected with it,through some interest in James Argyll. I did not know but that shemight have been attached to him--that the child she cared for might behis--you see I was totally in the dark as to all the details. I onlytook it for granted that James was guilty, and had to gather my proofsafterward. It was not until after my interview with Leesy, at Morelandvilla, that I became convinced she had nothing to do with the murder,and that all her strange proceedings were the result of the grief shefelt at the tragic death of one whom she secretly loved. When I had aninterview with you on that same afternoon, I saw that James hadpoisoned your mind with suspicions of Mr. Redfield; for the same reasonwhich had kept me silent so long--that is, that I should eventuallyundeceive you--I did not defend him, as I otherwise should. Apparently,I allowed the case to drop. It was only that I might follow itundisturbed. I had already fixed upon California as the retreat of theaccomplice, and was about to start off in search of him when Richardappeared upon the scene with the dead-letter in his hand.
"From that hour I felt sure of perfect success. My only anxiety wasthat the marriage should not be consummated which would seal my mouth;for, if Mary had been married on my return, I should have considered ittoo late to reveal the truth. This made me ver
y uneasy--not only forher sake, but because then I could not clear Mr. Redfield's characterto those friends who had cruelly wronged him. I kept my suspicions fromhim, although he was the partner of my investigations, for I was afraidthat his impetuosity might cause him to do something indiscreet, and Idid not want the guilty one alarmed until the net was spread for hisfeet. To-night, when I came here, I still further carried on my plan ofallowing you to remain undecided until the last moment, for I countedon the sudden, overwhelming accusation having the effect to make themurderer confess--which it did. I wished Miss Sullivan to be present,not only to corroborate any points of my testimony in which she mightbe concerned, but that reparation might also be done her, for we havetroubled and frightened her a great deal, poor thing, when her onlyfault has been too keen a perception of the nobility of that departedmartyr, whose memory his friends cherish so sacredly. She has but abrief space to dwell on earth, and I thought it would comfort her toknow that no one blames her for the pure devotion which has lighted hersoul and consumed it like oil which burns away in perfume."
Mr. Burton never meant to be poetical, but his perceptions were of thatrefined kind that he could not withhold from poor Leesy this littletribute to her noble folly. His words touched Eleanor; she was toohigh-minded to despise the fruitless offering of another and a humblerwoman at the shrine before which _she_ was privileged to minister; Ibelieve in that hour she felt a sister's interest in poor, lowly, butlove-exalted Leesy Sullivan. She crossed over, took the wasted hand inher own, and pressed it tenderly. We all now perceived how much thisdreadful evening had fatigued the invalid.
"She must go to bed at once," said Eleanor; "I will call Nora, and haveher placed in the room which opens out of ours, Mary."
The young ladies retired to give their gentle attention to the sickgirl; and both, before they went out, pressed my hand as they saidgood-night.
We three men remained long, talking over each particular of our strangestory, for we could not feel like sleeping. And before we parted forthe night, Mr. Argyll had humbled himself to confess that he was led tocondemn me without sufficient cause.
"I loved you as a son, Richard," he said, in a broken voice, "betterthan I ever loved James, for I was aware that he had many faults ofheart and head. And when I was induced to believe you the author of thecrime which had broken all our hearts, I was still further downcast. Myhealth has failed, as you see; and I was urgent upon Mary to marry hercousin, for I felt as if she would soon be left friendless, and Iwanted the girls to have a protector. I might better have left them tothe care of a viper," he added, with a shudder. "Poor Mary, dear girl!she was right all the time. She never did love that man--though, ofcourse, she had no idea of the truth. Thank God, it is no worse!"
I knew he was thinking of the marriage, and I, too, murmured, "ThankGod."
"Mr. Argyll," said Mr. Burton, laying his hand on that of the other,"this terrible affair is now brought to a close, as far as it can be.Let me advise you to brood over it as little as possible. Your healthis already affected. I acknowledge it is enough to shake one's reason;but, for that, I would bid you to drop it all from your mind--to banishthe thought of it--never to refer to it again. You can yet be tolerablyhappy. A fair future lies before all of you, except dear Miss Eleanor.Adopt Richard as your son, make him your partner, as you firstintended. I will give you my warrant for what it is worth, that he willrelieve you both of business and household cares--and that you willfeel, during your declining years, as if you, indeed, had a son tocomfort you."
"But I do not believe that Richard would take such a place, after whathas passed," said Mr. Argyll, doubtfully.
I hesitated; for a moment pride rebelled; but since all is forgiven,ought it not to be forgotten? When I spoke it was with heartiness.
"If you need a partner in your office, and wish me to take the place, Iwill do so."
"Then the compact is signed," said Mr. Burton, almost gayly. "And now Iwill try to find a bed at the hotel."
"Of course you will not," said our host; "this house is yours as muchas mine, Mr. Burton, always. How much I thank you for all the time,money and thought you have lavished in our behalf, I will not try tosay to-night. Our gratitude is unspoken because it is boundless."
"Don't thank me for following out the instincts of my nature," said thedetective, affecting carelessness; and with that we shook Mr. Argyll'shand, and retired to the rooms assigned us.
In the morning Miss Sullivan was found to be much worse; the journeyand the excitement had made her very ill, so that it was impossible forher to return to the city with Mr. Burton. A physician was sent for whosaid that she could not live over two or three days. She heard thesentence with apparent joy; only she begged Mr. Burton to send littleNora up to her, on the evening train, that she might see the childbefore she died. This he promised to do, and to have always an interestin her welfare. She was much affected when he bade her farewell, for hehad gained her love and confidence by his manner of treating her.
The child came, and was tenderly received by the sisters. They wereunwearied in their attentions to the sufferer, whose last hours weresoothed by their earnest words of hope and comfort. Leesy died with asmile on her face, going out of this world, which had been so cold toone of her impassioned nature, with joy. When I looked at the wastedcorpse, I could hardly realize that the fire was out for ever which hadso long burned in those wonderful eyes--it was not quenched, it hadonly been removed to a purer atmosphere. She was buried, very quietly,but reverently, on a beautiful winter day. Her little charge was muchpetted by the young ladies; and as a lady who chanced to see her,learning that she was an orphan, took a fancy to adopt her, they, withMr. Burton's consent, resigned her to a new mother. I have seen littleNora lately; she is a pretty child, and well cared for.