Richard Dowling

“ Paulton rattled noisily at the gate, and then waited a while. There was no answer. He looked at the windows of the house; none was lighted up. Light shone in the fan-sash over the door.
"You cannot have mistaken the house in the dark?" asked Dr. Santley, suppressing a yawn.
"Impossible! It was the only house to be let. It is Crescent House, and you yourself saw the furniture going in to-day."
Again he rattled the gate, this time as loudly as he could.
At length the door of the house was opened slowly, and against the light of the lamp the same figure as Paulton had seen before was revealed. ”

“ The inspector looked down and smiled; Pringle looked up at the ceiling in unpleasant doubt; but Spencer, who represented Mr. Edward Davenport, was urgent that Blake should be heard. The public were also anxious Blake should be examined. The public were athirst for blood or scandal. In this case the public was unwashed and evil-visaged. Even the jury, who were not there by choice, had a forbidding, ghoul-like, and clayey look. The coroner was scrupulously clean. He was blanched and ghostly. Alfred Paulton looked like one suffering from a hideous nightmare. ”

“ Look here, Pringle; I know you're a first-rate fellow at your work. You're not as old as you might be, but you're one of the best men in England for this kind of a job. However, if you have to tackle Tom Blake, he'll give you as much as you want."
Jerry O'Brien spoke with heightened colour, and in a tone of intense irritation.
This opinion was not unwelcome to Pringle's ears, for he knew that, no matter how big a scoundrel Blake might be, he would say nothing to inculpate Mrs. Davenport. ”

“ As she went on, Pringle's admiration gave way to amazement. A scientific witness could not be more unmoved. Was it possible this superb woman opposite him had been explaining to him in these cold, measured accents her way of accounting for the death of a husband who had been alive and without any immediate danger of death a couple of days ago, and who had since died a death which was, to say the least of it, provocative of inquiry? ”

“ Marion, my darling! Marion, let me come to you."
"Stay where you are," she said, in a tone of perplexity, and with a shudder. "If you move from that chair, it must only be for the door. Remember this once for all."
"You are very hard, Marion--very hard. It is a long day since we met, and now you will not even give me your hand. You would give your hand to the most ordinary friend you have: think of what we were once."
His voice had a firm, manly, straightforward ring in it, and withal an undertone of passionate entreaty. ”

“ I can get what I need in London."
"At all events, you must not go alone. You must allow some one to escort you. I am certain my son would be delighted to take you wherever you may wish to go."
"It would give me great pleasure," said Alfred eagerly.
"You are both, I know, too good and kind to mistake for ungraciousness the refusal which I must give to your offer. I have no alternative but to go alone."
"Mrs. Davenport," said Pringle, "I am going to town at once. May I hope you will allow me to see you as far as either Ludgate Hill or Victoria? ”

“ At that time I was a needy man, and I had borrowed money of him, which I have never repaid. That is so. During the time Mr. Davenport was ill--was suffering from this delusion or suspicion--I was constantly with him. I do not think he disclosed to any one but me the delusions or suspicions he was under. When he recovered he made me swear most solemnly I would never tell a soul. Then he lent me, or, if you prefer it, gave me, more money, and left Florence, and I lost sight of him until I met him in Ireland. ”

“ When gentlemen want opinions, they hire lawyers to give them."
"You gave up the lady to whom you were engaged, and black-mailed your friend for a thousand pounds?"
"I give up the facts to you. It is the duty of the attorney to embellish them. I am not, Mr. Coroner, bound to answer questions which are simply rhetorical."
The coroner merely shook his head, and the evidence went on:
"From the day I bade Mr. Davenport good-bye in Ireland, ten years ago, until the day of his death, I often saw Mr. Davenport, and spoke to him." ”

“ It is: the old lover poisons the husband in order that the woman may be free to marry him. A money motive may turn up later on; if we may find that the widow is rich. Dick, I am getting to be an old man now, and I give you one piece of advice, lest I may forget it: Always suspect a case where the motive is glaringly obvious. Now, the two survivors in this affair are people of good education, good position and intelligence, are they not?"
"Most assuredly, sir."
"Neither of the two is an idiot?"
"I am greatly afraid, father, that the lady's reason is affected." ”

“ I am sure there is no reason to do anything else. This Mrs. Davenport, at your first interview, trusts you fully up to a certain point, and then suddenly refuses to give you any more confidence. At your second interview she gives you all, and more than all, the confidence you require. What has wrought that change? She has seen the old lover. She is acting upon his advice. She has given you a great deal of confidence, but she has not told you everything. She is keeping back the most important piece of all. ”

“ Jerry O'Brien seemed as much astonished at what he had done as his friends.
"But," urged Paulton, "you gave him the worst of characters the day before yesterday, and said he had something to do with this awful affair. Since then things have grown blacker against him, and yet you don't cut him! You come out here arm-in-arm with him to the very inquest where you say he will have to answer the ugliest questions which can be put to a man!"
"I bar only one thing in what you have said, Alfred. I did not walk out with him arm-in-arm. I met him quite accidentally at Victoria. ”

“ His ears caught nothing but the muffled hiss of the rain through the air, the angry-beat of it among the leafless trees, and the slashing singing of it on the flooded ground. The effect of it was an awful combination of the darkness of the grave, an inviolate solitude, and a deluge lacking merciful power to overwhelm.
He would have greeted any companion with joy. The society of the humblest beast, the most abject man, would have cheered him almost beyond the bounds of reason. ”

“ To him Paulton told the story of Crescent House, and what Dr. Santley had hinted at.
Up to this Jerry O'Brien had given little close attention to the story. He was smoking in a huge easy-chair with eyes half shut. The idea that a woman had poisoned her husband roused even him to attention, and as Paulton had finished his story he began to ask questions.
"And so this doctor of yours won't certify to the cause of death, and thinks your goddess may have had a hand in it!"
"Yes. Isn't it horrible?"
"What is your goddess like?"
"Dark and most lovely. A noble kind of beauty."
"Good figure?" ”

“ I spoke of a trial as now inevitable."
"You mean something more than this inquest?"--in the same tone, but a little more deliberately.
"Yes. This is only an inquiry into the place, time, and cause of death. No one is on trial for a crime as yet."
"You mean"--without any variation in accent--"that some one will be tried for the murder of my late husband?" ”

“ It could not do her any harm for either you or Pringle or Alfred to go with her."
"That struck me as most strange," said Mr. Paulton.
"We are all friends here," said Pringle. "It doesn't seem strange to me. It seems foolish, though. If they want her they can catch her abroad as well as in England."
"Abroad!" said Mr. Paulton, in perplexity. "Surely she is not going abroad before the funeral of her husband. No woman would think of leaving the country before her husband is buried."
"Under certain circumstances, a woman might if an inquest was to precede the burial." ”

“ The public can endure anything better than derision. The murmur grew to a groan. Silence was called in a tyrannical tone. The coroner pushed his spectacles up on his forehead, and regarded Blake steadfastly for a few seconds.
A square-built man, of medium height, stood before the judge. His hair was short, crisp, grizzled. He wore his hat jauntily in front of his waistcoat, and had an eye-glass fixed in his left eye. ”

“ With this beautiful woman before him it was shocking to think of the ordeal and details of an inquest. "Mr. Davenport was suffering from a disease of long standing; it had been particularly bad to-night, and a violent paroxysm overcame him. My friend, Dr. Santley, will make it right, and you will be spared all pain that can possibly be diverted from you."
"Thank you," she said, feebly; and she threw herself back in her chair. ”

“ They all wound up by saying that the inquest would be held next day.
That afternoon Richard Pringle called on chance at the house in Jermyn Street, and found Mrs. Davenport at home. She received him in a dreamy, half-conscious way, and answered listlessly the common-place questions he put to her. Before seeing her he had made up his mind not to refer to the scene which had taken place between them yesterday. He was firmly convinced she would not give him her full confidence, and that to seek to get at the bottom of the affair would be only to court obstruction. ”

“ He had wax cigar-lights in his pocket. He struck one, and in a moment the gas flared up. He looked at her, and cried, starting back:
"Merciful heavens, Marion, what masquerade is this!"
"No masquerade," she said calmly, scrutinizing him. "These are my widow's weeds come from the mourning warehouse a few minutes ago. They say you ought to be prepared to see me in them."
"I--I!--prepared to see you in widow's weeds! Is Davenport dead?"
"Women whose husbands are living do not wear such things as these. They say you ought to be prepared to see me dressed as I am now." ”

“ Pringle's curiosity was aroused. Outside his profession the thing in which he took most interest was horse-racing.
"I am not sure that it can be of any consequence; but if you could remember it, I should like to know what that peculiarity in betting was."
"I am not quite sure," she said; "but I have an indistinct recollection he made it a rule never to bet on any horse the name of which began with a letter lower down in the alphabet than 'N.'"
"Ah!" said the young solicitor, in a tone of surprise and reflection. He resolved to look this matter up when he got back to the office. ”

“ Jerry O'Brien was not a lady's man. He held that sort of person in contempt. But of one thing he was quite sure--that he was disposed, anxious, to be one lady's man, and that lady was Madge Paulton.
As soon as Alfred and Jerry were alone, the former began making inquiries about Mrs. Davenport.
"She's in Jermyn Street yet," said Jerry. "I saw her this morning as I came along. I don't think they have let Blake out of gaol yet. It's a pity they ever should do so. I don't think there could be any act of Christian charity more acceptable to heaven than to hang him. ”

“ He judged her to be neither old nor young. Her hair shone raven-black in the lamplight. The illumined cheek was finely modelled, dark in hue--that of a brunette. She leaned forward into the darkness, and peered right and left, moving her head but slightly as she did so. Something glittered in the starlight at her throat and at her girdle. Her hands were held behind her to balance the forward inclination of her body. On her fingers jewels sparkled in the lamplight of the hall behind her. ”

“ Young Pringle felt that although there must be and are extremely interesting tragedies in the world, luncheon, when one is hungry, was a matter not to be neglected. He had more than once in a criminal court eaten sandwiches and drunk sherry in the interval for luncheon, with the moral certainty that his client, who had been temporarily removed from the dock, would be sentenced to death before the Court rose, and hanged before that day four weeks. ”

“ If I had, I should never have acted as I did."
"It is most unfortunate," said the father.
"Well," broke in Jerry O'Brien, "there's no use now in crying over spilt milk. What we have to ask ourselves is: How can it be best faced--eh, Pringle? Isn't that the practical question?"
"I think so," said the solicitor. "For my part I find myself in rather an awkward position. Mrs. Davenport's interests and yours, Mr. Paulton, can scarcely be said to be any longer identical. I cannot advise both. Besides, Mr. Paulton, you have a solicitor of your own. ”

“ While Pringle was standing on the steps of the inn, Dr. Santley and Alfred Paulton came up. They had walked with one another from Half Moon Lane.
"Well," said the latter, addressing Pringle, "any good news?"
The solicitor shook his head and answered:
"Nothing fresh."
"I thought," said Paulton, in a tone of disappointment, "that Jerry O'Brien would be with you. Is he not come? He said he would be here to-day."
"I have not seen him," said Pringle. "I came out with Mrs. Davenport. She is upstairs in a private room. Do you know anything of Blake? Have you met him on the way?" ”

“ It had turned Alfred sick while he listened to it. As he heard that self-possessed, aggressive man give evidence, he felt the toils closing round the unhappy woman. Now, in all likelihood, these toils had for ever vanished into air, and Mrs. Davenport was as free from suspicion of complicity in her husband's murder as though the two had never in all their lives met.
He asked his sister if she knew anything about Mrs. Davenport. Madge had an idea that Mrs. Davenport was still staying at Jermyn Street. Young Paulton asked nothing about Blake. He was not concerned about him. ”

“ Davenport quite dead. He thought life had been extinct for an hour or so; it was impossible to say accurately. The body was not cold. He was familiar with cases of spasmodic asthma. Practically it never killed directly; that is, one never died of the spasm. In a spasm, the heart, or head, or lungs, or aorta might give way, causing death. He had never known a case of death from spasmodic asthma, pure and simple.
He was, of course, familiar with chloroform as an anæsthetic. He had once seen a case of poisoning by chloroform. ”

“ Paulton entered the room. The young man introduced Mrs. Davenport to his mother; then he left to rouse the coachman for the purpose of sitting up at Crescent House. As soon as Paulton had arranged this, he hastened back to Dr. Santley.
"I came as quickly as I could, doctor. That poor woman is in a dreadful state of mind; she looks to me as if she were losing her reason."
"H'm," said the doctor, who was sitting on a chair by the lamp on the table, and had been reading a newspaper he had happened to have in his pocket. He seemed thoughtful or sleepy; Paulton was not a man of nice observation. ”