THE FILIGREE BALL.

Golden Bay Argus, Volume XIII, Issue 1, 2 June 1910, Page 3

THE FILIGREE BALL.

(Copyright.)

■ "f BY ANNA KATHERINE GREEN, Author of "The Leavenworth Case."

PART 4.

I saw, by his quick look, that I had stirred up a hornets' nest. This Was just what I had calculated to do. "Behind it!” he repeated. "There Is nothing behind it.” I laughed, shrugged my shoulders, and backed slowly toward the door, j "Of course, you should kno-v,” ] retorted, with some condescension. .Then, as if struck by a sudden rermembrance: "Oh, by the way, have you been told that there is a window on that lower floor which does 'Hot stay fastened? I speak of it At hat you may have it repaired as J Boon as the police vacate. !l’s the last one in the hall leading to the negro quarters. If you shako it hard enough, the catch falls back and any . one can raise it even from the outside.”

"I will see to it,” he replied, dropping his eyes, possibly to hide their curious twinkle. "But what do you mean about linding something in the wall behind that old picture? I’ve never heard—” But though ho spoke quickly and shouted the last words after me at the top of his voice, I was by this time too far away to respond save by a dubious smile, and a semi-pat-ronizing wave of the hand. Not until I was nearly out of earshot did T venture to shout back the following Words: "I’ll be back—in an hour. If anything happens—if the boys annoy you, or any one attempts to enter the old house, telephone to the station or summon the officer at tho torner. I don’t believe any harm will come from leaving the place to itself for a while.” Then I walked around the block. When I arrived in front again it was quite dark. So was the house; but there was light in the library. I felt assured that. I should find Uncle David there, and I did. When, after a noiseless entrance and a careful advance through tho hall, I threw op-

en the door beyond the gilded pillars, it was to see tho tall figure of this old man mounted upon tho chair I had left 1 here, peering up at the nail from which I had so lately lifted tho picture. Ho started us I presented myself and almost fell from tho chair. But the careless laugh I uttered assured him of the j little importance I placed upon this ’ Evidence of his during and unappeas‘ablo curiosity, and he confronted me j with an enviable air of dignity ; j whereupon I managed to say: "Really, Mr. Moore, I’m glad to 1 ’seo you here. It is quite natural for 1 .you to wish fo learn by any means ’ 'in your power what that picture concealed. I came back, because J sud- ( dcnly remembered that I had forgot- . ten to rehang it.” ! Involuntarily he glanced again at | the wall overhead, which was as ' bare as his hand, save for tho nail he had already examined. "It has concealed nothing,” he re* ! tortod. "You can see yourself that i the wall is bare and that it rings us | sound as any chimneypiece ever | made.” Here ho struck it heavily i with his fist. "What did you imag- { Ine that you had found?” [ I smiled, shrugged my shoulders in tantalizing repetition of my former action upon a like occasion and then answered brusquely: ; "(I did not come back to betray po- 1 lice secrets, but to restore this pic- I ture to its place. Or perhaps you ! pre'Yr to have it down rather than ' up? It isn’t much of an ornament.” j Ho scrutinized me darkly from over his shoulder, a wary gleam showing j Itself in his shrewd old eyes; and tho Idea crossed me that the moment: might possess more significance than j npi eared. But I did not step back-j Ward, nor give evidence in any way | that I had even thought of danger, j I simply laid my hand on the pic-; ture and looked up at him for or-j dors, j

He promptly signified that he wi shape! it hung, adding ns I hesitated these words: “The pictures in this house are supposed to stay on the walls whoro they belong. There is a traditional superstition against removing them.” I Immediately liftod the print from tho floor. No doubt he had me at a iisad vantage if evil was in his h'*ert, and my position on tho hearth was as dangerous as previous events ' had proved it to be. But it would not do to show the white feather at a moment when his fato, if not my own., hung in the balance; so motioning him to step down, I put foot **n the chair and raised the picture aloft to hang it. As 1 did so, he xuovird ov*r to the huge settle of his ancestors, and, crossing his arms ov*r it* bock, surveyed me with a smile I rather imagined then snw. Suddenly, as T strained to put the lord, over the nail ho called out: “Look out' you’ll fall.” If he Intended to give mo a

■t>rt tn payment for my previous re-; bud ho <*<d not succeed; for my j nerves had grown steady and my vm firm a* the glimpse I had 1 n»ught o* tho vhelf below me. The' fine brown powder I had scattered! ther* had been, displaced in' fivedis-j tinct spot®, and not by my lingers, j £ hart preferred to risk the loss of! Oiy balance, rather than rest my j hand on th® shelf, but he had taken; »ci *ucb. precaution. The clue I so aatxfausly deatred and for which I! had »* r«ckle®s!y worked, was ob- J tftinsd. i

But vban half an hoixv later I | found an opportunity of measuring! them* D&rkt and comparing them! .with them* upstairs, T did not enjoy { fch* full triumph I had p‘i»miscd my- : ae.’f. For ?hr two impressions utter-' By fa!l<?<! to .‘oincide. tints proving; that whatsrae the person was who had in this house with Mrs.

Jaffrey on th« evening she die, it wa« not her un:ia David.

CHAPTER VIII.

f/Bf <mn v®j>tnt. The person who had .yt the mark® of his pnwrace iu fth® chamber of th® Moor® 1 kvuM w®s <M>t tb® man popularly : known a® VocU Who, then, I iswat imm rones* t* i

had a chance to note again her pretty but expressionless features, among which the restless eyes alone bespoke character or decision. “Mr. Jeffrey is in the back room upstairs,” she announced. "He says for you to come up.” "Is it the room Mrs. Jeffrey used to occupy?” I asked with open curiosity, as I passed her. An involuntary shudder proved that she was not without feeling. So did the quick disclaimer: “No, no! Those rooms ore closed. He occupies the one Miss Tuttle had before she went away.” ‘‘Oh, then, Miss Tuttle is gone?” Loretta disdained to answer. She had already said enough to cause her to bite her lip as she disappeared down the basement stair. Decidedly the boys were right. An uneasy feeling followed any conversation with this girl. Yet, while there was slyness in her manner, there was a certain frank honesty visible in it too, which caused me to think that if she could ever be made to speak, her evidence could he relied on. Mr. Jeffrey was sitting will) his back to the door when 1 entered, but turned as I spoke bis name and held out his hand for the note 1 carried. I had no expectation of his remembering mens one of the men who had stood about that night in the Moore house, and I was not disappointed. To hii/i I was merely a messenger, or common policeman; and he consequently paid me no attention, while I bestowed upon him the most con*

centrutod scrutiny of my whole life. Till now I bad seen him only in half lights, or under circumstances precluding my getting a very accurate idea of him as a man and a gentleman. Now lie sat with the broad daylight on his face, and I had every opportunity for noting both his features and expression, lie was of a distinguished type; but tho cloud enshrouding him was as heavy as any I had ever seen darkening about a man of his position and character. His manner, fettered though it was by gloomy thoughts, was not just the manner I had expected to encounter. He had a largo, clear eye, but the veil which hid the brightness of his regard was misty with suspicion, not with tears. He appeared to shrink from observation, and shifted uneasily as long as I stood in front of him, though ho said nothing and did not lift his eyes from the letter ho was perusing till he heard me step back to the door I had purposely* left open and softly close it. Then he glanced up, with a keen, if not alarmed look, which seemed an exaggerated one for that occasion, that is, if he had no secret to keep. “Do you suffer so from drafts?” lie asked, rising in a way which in itself was a dismissal. '

I smiled an ahiused denial, then with the simple directness I thought most likely to win mo his confidence, entered straight upon my business in these plain words: “Pardon me, Mr. Jeffrey, I have, something to say which is not ex- j aetly fitted for tho ears of servants.’’ • Then, as he pushed his chair sud- , donly hack, I added reassuredly, “it is not u police matter, sir, but an | entirely personal one. It may strike ! you as important, and it may not. 1 Mr. JelTrey, J was the man who made tho unhappy discovery in the , Moore mansion, which lias plunged tliis house into mourning.’’ This* announcement startled him j and produced a visible change in his 1 manner. Ilis eyes flew first to one door and then to another, as if it were ho who feared intrusion now. "1 beg your pardon for speaking on so painful a topic, ’’ I went on, as soon as I saw he was ready to liston to me. “My excuse is that I came upon a little'thing that same night which. I have not thought of sudicient importance to mention to any one else, but which it may interest you to hear about.” More I took from a book I held, a piece of blotting-paper. It was white on nno side and blue on the other. The white side I had thickly chalked, though this was not apparent. Laying down this piece of blotting-pa-per, chalked side up, on the end of a large table near which wo were j otamUxua’. I took out an envelope j

ed itself to me, —Mr. Jeffrey. It was not so easy for me to reach this man as it had been for me to reach his singular and unimaginative uncle. In the first place, his door had been closed to every one sinco his wife’s death. Neither friends nor strangers could gain admittance there unless they came vested with authority from the coroner. And this, even if I could manage to obtain it, would not answer in my case. What I had to say and do would better follow a chance encounter. But no chance encounter with this gentleman seemed likely to fall to my lot, and finally J swallowed my pride aod asked another favor of the lieutenant. Would he see that I was given an opportunity for carrying some message, or of doing some errand which would lead to my having an interview with Mr. Jeffrey? if he would, I stood ready to

promise that my; curiosity should stop at this point and that I would cease to make a nuisance of myself. 1 think he suspected me by this time; but he made no remark, and in a day or so I was summoned to carry a note to the house in K Street. Mrs. Jeffrey’s funeral had taken place the day before and the house looked deserted. But my summons speedily brought a neat-looking, but very nervous maid to the door, whoso eyes took on an unmistakable expression of resistance when I announced my errand and asked to see Mr. Jeffrey. The expression would not have struck me as peculiar if she had raised any objection to the interview I had solicited. But she did not. Her fear and antipathy, consequently, sprang from some other source than her Interest In the man most threatened by my visit. Was it —could it be, on her own account? Recalling what I had hoard whispered about the station concerning a maid of the Jeffreys who always seemed on the point of saying something which never really left her lips, I stopped her as she was about to slip upstairs and quietly asked: "Are you Loretta?” The way she turned, the way she looked at me as she gave me a short affirmative, and then quickly proceeded on her way, convinced me that my colleagues were right as to her being a woman who had some cause for dreading police interference. 1 instantly made up my mind that hero was a mine to be worked and that I knew just the demure little soul host equipped to act the part of miner. In a moment she came back, and I

from my pocket, and, shaking It gently to and fro, remarked: "In an upper room of the Moore house—you remember the southwest chamber, sir?”

Ah! didn’t he! There was no misdoubting the quick emotion— the shrinking and the alarm with which he heard this room mentioned. "It. wa i in that room that I found these.” ’i'ipping up the envelope, I scattered over the face of the blotter a few of the glistening particles I had colj looted from the [*lace mentioned. lie bent over them, astonished. Then, as was natural, brushed them together in a heap with the tips of his fingers, and leaned (o look again, just as I breathed a heavy sigh which scattered them far and wide. Instinctively, ho withdrew his hand; whereupon I embraced the opportunity of turning the blotter over, uttering meanwhile the most profuse apologies. Then, ns if anxious not to repeat my misadventure, I let the blotter lie whero it was, and pouring out the few remaining particles into my palm, I held them toward the light in such a way that he was compelled to lean across the table in order to see them. Naturally, for I had planned the distance well, his finger-tips, white with the' chalk he had unconsciously handled, touched the blue surface of the blotter now lying uppermost and left their marks there.

I could have shouted in my elation at the success of this risky munoeuv or, but managed to suppress my emotion ami to stand quite still while he took a good look at the filings. They seemed to have great and unusual interest for him and. it was with no ordinary emotion thut he finally asked: "What do you make out of these, and why do you bring them here?” My answer was written under his hand! but this, it was far from my policy to impart. So putting on my friendliest air, 1 returned, with suitable respect:

“I don't know what to make o! i them. They look like gold; i T that jis for you to decide. Do you want j them, sir?” | "No,” he replied starting erect and withdrawing his hand from x«ho blot- ; ter. "It’s but a tri not worth | our attention. But I f ’iank you just the same for bringing it to my notice.” And again his manner became a plain dismissal. This time I accepted it as such without question. Carelessly restoring the piece of blotting-paper to the book from which I had taken it, I made a bow and withdrew toward the door. lie seemed to be thinking, and the deep furrows, which I am sure had been lacking from his brow a week previous, became startlingly visible. Finally be observed: "Mrs. Jeffrey was not in her right mind when she so unhappily took her life. I see now that the change in her dales hack to her Wedding day, consequently any little peculiar-j ily she may have shown at that time is not. to be wondered at.” . "Certainly not,” I boldly ventured;! "if such peculiarities Were shown af-; ter the fright given her by the ea- ! tastrophe; which took place in the li-j braiv.” I

JJis eyes, which were fixed on mine, flashed, gad his hands closed Convul-

sively. “We will not consider the subject,” he muttered, reseating himself in the chair from which he had risen.

I bowed again and went out. 1 did not dwell on the interview in my own mind nor did I allow myself to draw any conclusions from it, till i had carried the blotter into the southwest chamber of the Moore house and carefully compared the impressions made on it with the marks I had scratched on the surface of tho mantel-shelf. This I did by laying the one over the other, after having made holes where his linger-tips. had touched t lie blotter. The oles ia the blotter and the marks outlined upon the shelf coincided exactly.

! CHAPTER IX. j I have already mentioned the man whom 1 secretly looked upon as ! standing between me and all preferi merit. I'e was a good-looking fellow, but he wore a natural sneer which j for some reason J felt to be always j directed toward myself. This sneer \ I grew pronounced about this time, and ! that was the reason, no doubt, why ! i I continued to work ■ s long as I did' in secret. I dreaded the open laugh; ! of this man, a laugh which always : I seemed hovering on his lips and which j ; was only hid in restraint by th A ! awe we all felt of the major. j I Notwithstanding, I made one j slight move. Encountering the o t u-! j ty-coroner, I ventured to ask if i, O | was quite satisfied with the evide .ee collected in the Jeffrey case. IDs surprise did not prevent him' from asking my reasons for this question. I replied to this effect: "Because I have a little friend, ! winsome enough and subtile enough to worm the truth out of the devil. I hear that the girl Loretta is suspected of knowing more about this ! unfortunate tragedy than she is will- j ing to impart. if you wish this ! little friend of mine to talk to her, | I will see that she does so and does so with effect.” j The deputy-coroner looked inter- ' ested. ! "Whom do you mean by ‘little friend’ and what is her name?” j

“I will send her to you.’’ Atul I did. ! The next day I was standing on the corner of Vermont Avenue when , I saw Jinny advancing from the' house in Iv Street. She was chipper, and she was smiling in a way which J made me say to myself: "It is lortunate that Durbin is not here.’’ - ; For Jinny’s one weakness is her ; lack of power to hide the satisfaction 1 she takes in any detective work that : comes her way. 1 had told her of this and had more than once tried to impress upon her that her smile was ! a complete give-away, but 1 noticed '

it if slio kept it from her lips, it * •cod its way out of her eyes, and if j ; kept it out of her eyes, it beam- j like an inner radiance from her : iolo face. So I gave up the task j making her perfect and let her I on smiling, glad that she had j :li frequent cause for it. i'his morning her smile had a touch pride in it us well as of delight, [1 noting this, 1 remarked: ‘You have made Loretta talk?’’ lor head went up and a demure nple appeared in her cheek. ‘What did .she say?’’ I urged, hat has she been keeping back?” You will have to ask the coro

>g hitherto unblemished reputation, it i- j won't do, my boy. to throw the i doubt of so hideous a crime upon so ! fine a gentleman without ample I reason. That no such mistake may I be made and that he may have ev’t ery opportunity for clearing himself, | I am going to have a confidential | talk with him. Do you want to bo l- present?” t ! I Hushed again; but this time from n extreme satisfaction, j “I am obliged for your confidence,” i said I; then, with a burst of courage ".born of his good nature, I inquired y with due respect if my little friend it had answered his expectations. “Was P she as clever as I said?” I asked. ?* | “Your little friend is a trump,” was his blunt reply. “With what we ” have learned through her and now J 1 . through you, we can approach Mr. e Joffrey to some purpose. It appears n ( that, before leaving the house on that Thursday, morning, lie had an K interview with his wife which ought j in some way to account for this tragedy. Perhaps he will tell us k about it, and perhaps ho will explain how he came to wander through I lie Moore house while his wife lay dying below. At all events we will give him tiie opportunity to do so and, if possible, to clear up mysteries, which provoke the worst kind of conjecture. It is time. The ideas advanced by the papers foster superstilion; und superstition is the devil. . i (<o and toll my man out there that 0 lam going to K Street. You may

ner. My orders were strict to bring the results of my interview immediately to him.” "Does that include Durbin?” "Does it include you?” "1 am afraid not.”

“You are right; but why shouldn’t it include you?” "What do you mean. Jinny?” “Why do you keep your own counsel so long? You have ideas about this crime, I know. W r hy not mention them-?” “Jinny! ”

"A word to the wise is sufficient;” she laughed and turned her pretty f:<cc toward the coroner’s office. But sne was a woman and could not help glancing back, and, meeting my dubious look, she broke into an arch smile and naively added this remark: "Loretta is a busybody ashamed of her own curiosity. So much there can be no harm in telling you. When one’s knowledge has been gained by

lingering behind doors and peeping s through cracks, one is not so ready * to say what one has seen anil heard. 1 Loretta is in that box, and being more than a little scared of the police, was glad to let her anxiety ’ anil her fears overflow into a syme pathizing ear. Won’t she be surpris- - ed when she is called up some line e day by the enroiior! I wonder if sho e r will Maine me for it?” , "She will iiem think of doing - so,” I basely assured my liilie t fi iend, v with an appreciative glan-'e at her sparkling eye and dimpled cheek, n 'The arch little creature started to - move off' again. As ; he did so, she j cried: "Be good, and don’t let ilur--1 bin cut in on vot :" i t stopped for - the second time wi. . ... !f across the t street, and when, oh die,,; to her t look, 1 hastily rejoined her. ■ he wliist pered demurely: "Oh, If • l to tell | you something that 1 Hard this , morning, and which nobody but yourself lias any right to know. I i was following your commands and , - buying groceries at Simpkins’, when! r just as I was coming out with any ■'arms full, I heard old Mr. Simpkins I mention Mr. Jeffrey’s name and witli j i such interest that I naturally wanted | ; to hear what he had to suy. Having j no real excuse for staying, I poked j I my linger into a bag of sugar I was i carryin/ , till the sugar ran out and j 1 had to wait till it was put up ! again. This did not take long, but j it took long enough for me to hear j 1 the old grocer say that he knew ■ | Mr. Jeffrey, and that that gentleman! hud come into his shop only a day | 0.. two before his wife’s death to buy \ —candles! ” | The archness with which this was : said, to "ether with the fact itself, made me her slave forever. As her 1 small figure faded from sight down ! the avenue, I decided to take her advice and follow up whatever communication she had to make to the : coroner by a confession of my own suspicions and what they had led me into. If he laughed —well, I could stand it. It was not tho coroner’s laugh, nor even the major’s,' that. 1 l'eured; it was Durbin’s. CHATTER X. Jinny had not been gone an hour ! from the coroner's office when an opportunity was afforded for me to I approach that gentleman myself. | j With few apologies and no pro-' : amble, L immediate!v entered upon , my story which I rhado as concise j and as ranch to the point as pos- ; sible. I did not expect praise from, j him, but i did look for some slight' , show of astonishment at the nature! 1 of my news. 1 was therefore greatly disappointed, when, after a moment’s quiet consideration, he carelessly remarked: | j “Very good! very good! The one j point you make is excellent and may i prove of use to us. We had reached ; ! the same conclusion, but by another : road. You ask, ‘Who blew out the ‘ i candle?’ We, ‘Who tied the pistol; ; to Mrs. Jeffrey's arm?’ It could not: have been tied by herself. Who was ■ her accessory then? Ah, you didn’t; 1 i think of that.” j I flushed as if a pail of hot water' 1 had been dashed suddenly over me. ! \ Ho was right. The conclusion he' 1 spoke of had failed to strike me.! * wus a perfectly obvious one, j as obvious as that the candle had I been blown out by another breath | than hors; yet, absorbed in my own ! train of thought, I bail completely! overlooked it. Tho coroner observing I my embarrassment, smiled, and my j humiliation was complete—or would; 1 have been bad Durbin been there, but | fortunately he was not. j "1 am a fool.” I cried. "I thought - 1 I had discovered something. I might I 1 have known that there were keener' minds than mine in this office —” j r “Easy! easy!” was the good-na- ‘ 1 lured interruption. "You have done ‘ well. If I did not think so, I would not keep you here a minute. As it L is, 1 am disposed to let you see that v in a case like this, one man must ; 1 not expect to monopolize all the j s honors. This mat ter of the bow o| ; ribbon would strike any old and ex- | 11 perienced official. 1 only wonder that c vve have not seen it openly discussed 1 in the papers.” i 1 Taking a box from his desk, he ! u opened it and held it out toward i< me. A coil of white ribbon surmounted by a crisp and dainty bow met my eyes. “You recognize it?” he asked. Indeed 1 did. i •! "It was cut from her wrist by mv I 1 deputy. Miss Tuttle wished him to li untie it, but he preferred to leave " the bow intact. Now lift it out.: Careful, man, don't soil it; you will n see why in a minute.” As I held the ti ribbon up, be pointed to some spots ti on its fresh white surface. "Do you tl see those?" he asked. "Those aro \v

0 say ‘we’ if you like,” he added with a humor more welcome to me than any serious concession. e Did 1 feel set up by this? Father. r j Mr. .Jeffrey was expecting us. This _ was evident from his first look, 1 though the attempt he made at surH j rise was instantaneous and very t well feigned. Indeed, 1 think he was in a constant stuto of apprehension I during these days and that no in--j ' road of the police would have ass 1 not. preclude dread; indeed it tends ,1 to foster it,and dread was in his I i heart. This he had no power to con- ' ceal. Ij “To what am I indebted for tiiis i j second visit from you?” lie asked of I , Coroner 'A., with an admirable prosi 'dice of mind. "Are you not yet sat- ; | isfied with what we have been able r j to tell you of my poor wife’s unhapi py end?” i ‘‘We ure not,” was the plain re- / 1 spouse. ‘‘There are some tilings you t\ have not attempted to explain, Mr. i Jeffrey. For instance, why you went i to the Moore house previous to youi , being called there by the death of - your wife.” i It was a shot that told; an arrow ■ which found its mark. Mr. Jeffrey ■ flushed, 1 lien turned pule, rallied and i again lost himself in a maze of coni dieting emotions from which lie only I emerged to say: “How do you know that I was

; there? Have J said so; or do thos< walls babble in their sleep?” ! “Old walls have been Known to d< [ this,” was* the grave reply. “Wheth 1 or they lmd anything to say in tin ■ ease is at present quite immaterial That you were where J charge yoi with being is evident from your owi manner. May I then ask if you hav< ; anything to say about this visit' When a person has died under sm 1 peculiar circumstances as Mrs, Jef l'rey, everything bearing upon tin case is of interest to the coroner.’ ; I was sorry he added that last sen : tepee; sorry that he felt obliged tc ' qualify his action by anything savoring of apology; for the time spent in its utterance afforded his agitated ; hearer an opportunity not only ol ! collecting himself but of preparing an answer for winch he would not have been ready an instant before, i “Mrs. Jeffrey's death was a strange one,” her husband admitted with tardy self-control. “I find liiv- ■ self as much at a loss to understand it as you do, and am therefore quite ready to answer the question you : have so openly broached. Hot that , my answer has any bearing upon the ; point you wish to make, but because j it is your due and my pleasure. I i did visit the Moore house, as I cer- | tainly had every right to do. The I property was my wife’s, and it was | for my interest t® learn, if I could, I the secret of its many crimes.” “Ah!” Mr. Jeffrey looked 'quickly up “You think that an odd thing fo me to do?” * “At night. Yes.” “Night is the time for ouch wo'k I did not care to be seen potterlc* around there in daylight.” “No? Yot it would have beer, sc much easier. You would not have had to buy candles or carry a pifto or —” “I did not carry a pistol. IV, only pistol carried there was the sat with which my demented wife choose to take her life. I do not understand this allusion.” “it grew out of a misunderstanding of the situation, Mr. Jeffrey; excuse me if I supposed you would be likely to provide yourself with some means of defense in venturing alone upon the scene of so many mysterious deaths,” “I took no precaution.” “And needed none, I suppose.” “And needed none.” “When was this visit paid, Mr. Jeffrey? Uefore or after your wife pulled the trigger which ended her life? You need nut hesitate to answer.” “I do not.” The elegant gentleman before us bad acquired a certain fierceness. “Why should I? Certainly, you don’t think that I was there at the same time she was. It was not on the same night, even.

dust-murks, and they were made us truly by some one’s lingers, us the impressions you noted on the man-tel-shelf in the upper chamber. This pistol was tied to her wrist after the deed; possibly by that same hand.” It was my own conclusion but it did not sound as welcome to me from liis lips as I had expected. Eith-

So much the walls should have told you and probab'y did, or my wife’s uncle, Mr. David Moore. Was he not your informant?” •‘No; Air. Moore has failed to call our attention to this fact. Did you meet Mr. .Moore during the course of your visit to a neighborhood over which he seems to hold absolute or my nature is narrow, or my inor- sway?”

dinale jealousy lays me open to the most astonishing inconsistencies; for no sooner had lie spoken those words than 1 experienced a sudden revulsion against, my own theory and the suspicions which it threw upon the man whom an hour before I was eager to proclaim a criminal. { But Coroner Z. gave me no chance i for making such a fool of myself. Rescuing the ribbon from my hands, ! which no doubt were running a little too freely over its snowy surface, he j smiled with the indulgence proper j from such a man to a novice like ;

myself, and observed quite frankly: | “You will consider these observations ns confidential. You know how I

"Not to my knowledge. But his house is directly opposite, and as he has little to do but amuse himself With what he can see from his front window, I concluded that lie might have observed me going in.” "You entered by the front door, then? ’ ’ “How else?” 1 “And on what mgntv Mr. Jeffrey made an effort. These quest/ "i were visibly harassing 1 him. ‘The night before the one —the one which—ended all my earthly happiness,” he added in a low voice.

Coroner Z. cast a glance at me. I remembered the lack of dust on the nest of little tables from which the

to hold your tongue; that you have upper „ne had been drawn forward proved. Hold it then a little longer, jto hold the candelabrum, and gently The case is not yet ripe. Mr. Jeffrey ! shook my head. The coroner's eyeia a man of high standing, with a j brows went up, but nope of his dis-

belief crept Into ms voice us uc made this additional statement:

"'Die night on which you failed to return to your own house.”

instantly Mr. Jeffrey betrayed by a nervous action, which was quite involuntary, that his outward calm was slowly giving way under a lire of questions' for which ho hud no ready reply. “It was odd, your not going homo that night,’’ the coroner coldly pursued. “The misunderstanding you had with your wife immediately after breakfast must have been a very serious one; more serious than you have hitherto acknowledged.”

“1 had rather not discuss the subject,” protested Mr. Jeffrey. Then as if he suddenly recognized the official character of his interlocutor, he hastily added: “Unless you positively request me to do so; in which case 1 must.”

“I am afraid that I must insist upon it,” returned the other. “You will find that it will be insisted upon at the request, and if you do not wish to subject yourself to mush unnecessary unpleasantness, you had better make, clear to us to-day Ibe cause of that special quarrel which to all intents and purposes led to your wife’s death.” “I will try to db so,” returned Mr. Jeffrey, rising and pacing the room in his intense restlessness. ‘‘We did

! have some words, her conduct the ; night before hud not pleased me. I [am naturally jealous, vilely jealous, and I thought she was a little frivolous at the German ambassador’s 1 bull. But l had no idea she would | take my sharp speeches so much to I heart. I had no idea that she would ' care so much or that 1 should care so much. A little jealousy is certainly pardonable in a bridegroom, and if her mind had not already been upset, she would have remembered how I loved her and hopefully waited for a reconciliation.” “You did love your wife, then? It was you and not she who lmd a right to be jealous? T have heard the contrary stated. It is a matter of public gossip that you loved another woman previous to your acquaintance with Miss Moore; a woman whom your wife regarded with sisterly affection and subsequently took into her new home.” “Miss Tuttle?” Mr. Jeffrey stopped in liis walk to fling out this ejaculation. “I admire and respect Miss Tuttle,” he went on to declare, “but I never loved her. Not as I did my wife,” he finished, but with a certain hard accent, apparent enough to a sensitive ear. “Pardon me; it is as difficult for me to j>iit these questions as it is for you to hear them. Were you and Miss Tuttle ever engaged?” I started. This was a question which half of Washington had been asking itself for the lust three

months. Would Mr. Jeffrey answer it.? or, remembering' that these questions were rather' friendly than official, refuse to satisfy a curiosity which he might well consider intrusive? The set aspect of his features promised little in the way of information, and wo were both surprised when a moment. later lie responded witli a grim emphasis hardly to bo expected from one of his impulsive temperament: ‘‘Unhappily, no. My attentions never went so far." Instantly the coroner pounced on the one weak word which Mr. Jeffrey had let fall. "Unhappily?" he repeated. "Why do you say, unhappily?" Mr. Jeffrey flushed and seemed to come out of some dream. "Did I say unhappily?” he inquired. "Well, I repeat it; Miss Tuttle would never have given me any cause for jealousy.” The coroner bowed and for the present dropped her name out of the conversation. "You speak again of the jealousy aroused in you by your wife’s impetuosities. Was this increased or diminished by the tone of the few lines she left behind her?" The response was long in coming. It. was hard for this man to lie. The struggle lie made at it was pitiful. As I noted what it cost him, 1 began to have new and curious | thoughts concerning him and the ! whole matter under discussion, i "I shall never overcome the remorse roused in mo by those few | lines," he finally rejoined. "tShe i showed n. consideration for me —’’ : "What!"

1 ; The laugh which seemed to be the v only means of violent expression remaining to tins miserable man was kept down by some amazing thought e which seeniei-i to paralyze him. Yt'ith- '• out making any attempt to.relute a suggestion that fell just short of y a persona! accusal ion, he sank down 13 in the lirst chair ho came to and became, as it wsre, lost in the vis.on * of that ghastly ribbon-tying and ilia solitary blowing out, of the candle 3 upon tin’s .*ccne of mournful death. ; Then with a struggling sense of haw in/:' heard something which called fo- ' and managed to let fall these word.v ' "You are mistaken—no one was ’ Uie”«, or if any one van-'—it was not 1. There is a man in this city v. lie l can prove if.” _ i (To be Continued.) 1105, 1

mr:vy —" ; The prayer remained unfinished. TTig head which had fallen on his breast sank lower. lie presented the aspect of one who is quite done with life, oven its sorrows. ! But. men in the position of Coronci ■ can not afford to be compassion- ! ate. Kverything the bereaved man said deepened the impression that lie was acting a part. To make sure t that this was really so. the coroner j with just t! 10 slightest touch of suei casm, 11 uiot ly obseiwod: j "And to ease your wife’s mind—j the wife you were so deeply angered j with—you visited this house, and, at j an hour which you should have spent |in reconciliation with her, went 1 through its ancient rooms in the i hope—of what?” Mr. Jeffrey could not answer. The words which came from his lips were mere ejaculations. I "1 was restless —mad —l found this ! adventure diverting. 1 had no real j purpose in mind.” | “Not when you looked at the old i picture?” ‘‘The old picture? What old pic. tu re?” “The old picture in the south-w-esi chamber. You took a look at that, didn’t you? Chut on a chair on purpose to do so?” Air. Jeffrey winced. But he made a direct reply.

I "Yes, 1 gave a look at that old ; picture; got up, as you say, on a chair to do so. Wasn’t that tho freak,of an idle man, wandering, he hardly knows why, from room to room in an old and deserted house?’ l His tormentor did not answer, Probably his mind w T as on his next line of inquiry. But Mr. Jeffrey di/ not take his silence with the calm ; ness he had shown prior to the last j attack. As no word came from hia ■ unwelcome guest, he paused in his I rapid pacing and, casting asidh with : one impulsive gesture his hitherto imperfectly held restraint, he cried out sharply: “Why do you ask me these ques« lions in tones of stub suspicion? la it not plain enough that my wife took her own life under a misapprehension of my slate of mind toward her, that you should feel it necessary jto rake lip these personal matters, ; which, however interesting to the | world at large, are of u painful liaI lure to me?” : | "Mr. Jeffrey,” retorted Hao other, 1 with a sudden grave assumption of dignity not without its effect in a case of such serious import, "wo do nothing w'ithout purpose. Wo ask these questions and show this interest because the charge of suicide which has hitherto been made against your wife is not entirely sustained by the facts. At least she was not alone when she took her life. Soun one was in the house with her.” It was startling to observe the t-f----feet of this declaration upon him. "impossible!” he cried out in a protest us forcible ns it was agonized. "You are playing with my misery. She could have had no ona there; she would not. There is not a man living before whom she would have tired that deadly shot; unless it was myself —unless it w*-» my owe wretched, misorablo self.” The remorseful whisper in which those words were uttered carried them to my heart, which for -wima strango arid unaccountable reason had been gradually tinning to want this man. But my l*ss easily affected companion, Hieing his opportunity and possibly considering that it was this gentleman’s right to ktiow in what a doubtful light ho stood before the law, remarked with as light a touch of irony as was possible:

"You should• know better than w« in whoso presence alie would choose to die —if she did so choose. Also who would be likclv to tie the pistol to her wrist and blow out t.ho candle when tho dreadful deed was over. ’ ’

I The ccronfir’3 exclamation showed ; al> the surpi'i.M lie felt. Mr. Jeffrey tottered under it, then grew p*tlo as if 3n’*y through our amazed lool;s he had roiTie to realise the charge of ini cor,si:i(er.ry to which ho had laid I himself or>eo. i "I mean —” lie endeavor»d to ex- ! plain, “that Mrs. dolirey showed an : unexpected tenderness toward me hy • tailing all the blame of our mlsunj dor.stumlir.g upon her*elf. It va.*, i generous «: her and will do mi.h toi ward making my memory >of her a gentle one.” He was forgetting himself again, i Indeed, his manner and attempted j explanations we r e full of cont.radioI t ions. To cmph«»iz.e this fact CoronI er Z. exclaimed: i “I should think so! She paid a heavy penalty for her p - jessed lack of love. You believe that her mind was unseated?” “Does not her action show it?” “Unseated Icy the mishap occur- ’ ring at. her marriage?” “Yes.” “You really think that?” ; ‘ ‘ Yes “By anything that passed between j you?” “Yes.” ! “May I ask you to tell us what ! passed between you on this point?” j ”Yes.” ITo had uttered the monosyllable so often it seemed to come unconsciously from his lips. But he recognized : almost as soon as we did that it was not a natural reply to the last question, and, making a gesture of apology, he added, with the samo monotony of tone which had charac- j terized these replies: “She spoke of her strange guest’s unaccountable death more than once, and whenever she did so, it was with an unnatural excitement and in an | unbalanced way. This was so noticeable to us all that the subject : presently was tabooed amongst us, i but though she henceforth spared us j all allusion to it, sho continued to ! i talk about the house itself and of ! i the previous deaths which had occur- | i red there till we were forced to for- j j hid that topic also. She was never r * really herself after crossing the : 1 threshold of this desolate houso to j be ’married. The shadow which j lurks within its walls fell at that in- { stant upon her life. May God havo j 1