The Last Stroke: A Detective Story. Lynch Lawrence L.

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СКАЧАТЬ stakes, and the doctor had answered some brief questions regarding the road through the fringe of wood, the mound, and the formation of the lake shore further south or away from the town, the detective announced his wish to be left alone to pursue his work in his own way.

      "Your guest will be astir early if I am not much mistaken," he said. "And you have Miss Grant to look after, and may be wanted for a dozen reasons before I return. I can easily walk back, and think you will see me at the breakfast hour, which you must on no account delay."

      Two hours later, and just as the doctor's man had announced breakfast, the detective returned, and at once joined the two in the dining-room.

      He said nothing of his morning excursion, but the doctor's quick eye noted his look of gravity, and a certain preoccupation of manner which Ferrars did not attempt to hide. Before the meal was ended Doctor Barnes was convinced that something was puzzling the detective, and troubling him not a little.

      After breakfast, and while Brierly was for the moment absent from the porch where they had seated themselves with their cigars, Ferrars asked —

      "Where does the lady live who drove Mr. Doran's black pony yesterday. Is it at an hotel?"

      "It is at the Glenville, an aristocratic family hotel on the terrace. She is a Mrs. Jamieson."

      "Do you know her?"

      "She sent for me once to prescribe for some small ailment not long ago."

      "Has she been summoned?"

      "She will be."

      "If there was any one in the woods, or approaching the mound by the road from the south, she should have seen them, or him; even a boat might have been seen through the trees for some distance southward, could it not?"

      "Yes. For two miles from the town the lake is visible from the wood road. Ah! here comes Doran and our constable."

      For half an hour the doctor was busy with Doran, the constable, and a number of other men who had or wished to have some small part to play in this second act of the tragedy, the end of which no one could foresee. Then, having dispatched them on their various missions, the doctor set out to inquire after the welfare of Hilda Grant; and Robert Brierly, who could not endure his suspense and sorrow in complete inaction, asked permission to accompany him, thus leaving the detective, who was quite in the mood for a little solitude just then, in possession of the porch, three wicker chairs and his cigar.

      But not for long. Before he had smoked and wrinkled his brows, as was his habit when things were not developing to his liking, and pondered ten minutes alone, he heard the click of the front gate, and turned in his chair to see a lady, petite, graceful, and dressed in mourning, coming toward him with quick, light steps. She was looking straight at him as she came, but as he rose at her approach, she stopped short, and standing a few steps from the porch, said crisply —

      "Your pardon. I have made a mistake. I am looking for Doctor Barnes."

      "He has gone out for a short time only. Will you be seated, madam, and wait?"

      She advanced a step and stopped irresolute.

      "I suppose I must, unless," coming close to the lower step, "unless you can tell me, sir, what I wish to know."

      "If it is a question of medicine, madam, I fear – "

      "It is not," she broke in, her voice dropping to a lower note. "It is about the – the inquiry or examination into the death of the poor young man who – but you know, of course."

      "I have heard. The inquest is held at one o'clock."

      "Ah! And do you know if the – the witnesses have been notified as yet?"

      "They are being summoned now. As the doctor's guest I have but lately heard him sending out the papers."

      "Oh, indeed!" The lady put a tiny foot upon the step as if to mount, and then withdrew it. "I think, if I may leave a message with you, sir," she said, "I will not wait."

      "Most certainly," he replied.

      "I chanced to be driving through the wood yesterday when the body was discovered near the Indian Mound, and am told that I shall be wanted as a witness. I do not understand why."

      "Possibly a mere form, which is nevertheless essential."

      "I had engaged to go out with a yachting party," she went on, "and before I withdraw from the excursion I wish to be sure that I shall really be required. My name is Mrs. Jamieson, and – "

      "Then I can assure you, Mrs. Jamieson, that you are, or will be wanted, at least. My friend has sent a summons to a Mrs. Jamieson of the Glenville House."

      "That is myself," the lady said, and turned to go. "Of course then I must be at hand."

      She nodded slightly and went away, going with a less appearance of haste down the street and so from his sight.

      When she was no longer visible the detective resumed his seat, and relighted his cigar, making, as he did so, this very unprofessional comment —

      "I hate to lose sight of a pretty woman, until I am sure of the colour of her eyes."

      And yet Francis Ferrars had never been called, in any sense, a "ladies' man."

      CHAPTER VII

      RENUNCIATION

      Ferrars had predicted that nothing would be gained by the inquest, and the result proved him a prophet.

      Peter Kramer, the poor half-wit who had given the first clue to the whereabouts of the murdered man, was found, and his confidence won by much coaxing, and more sweets and shining pennies, the only coin which Peter would ever recognise as such. But the result was small. Asked had he seen the teacher, the reply was, "Yep." Asked where, "Most by Injun hill." Asked what doing, "Settin' down."

      "Had he heard the pistol fired?" asked the doctor.

      "Un! Uh! Heard nawthin."

      "And whom did you see, Peter, besides the teacher?"

      Again the look of affright in the dull eyes, the arm lifted as in self-protection, and the only word they could coax from his lips was, "Ghost!" uttered in evident fear and trembling.

      And this was repeated at the inquest. This, and no more, from Peter.

      Mrs. Fry, Charles Brierly's landlady, told how the dead man had appeared at breakfast, and her testimony did not accord with the statement of her little daughter.

      "Miss Grant has told me of my little girl's mistake," she said. "Mr. Brierly was down-stairs unusually early that morning, and he did not look quite as well as usual. He looked worried, in fact, and ate little. He was always a small eater, and I said something about his eating even less than usual, I can't recall the exact words. Nellie of course, did not observe his worried look, as I did, and quoted me wrong. Mr. Brierly left the house at once after leaving the table. I did not think of it at first, but it came to me this morning that as he did not carry any books with him, he must of course have meant to come back for them, and – " She paused.

      "And, of course," suggested the coroner, "he must have had his pistol upon his person when he came down to breakfast? Is that your meaning?"

      "Yes, СКАЧАТЬ