The Greatest Works of Anna Katharine Green. Анна Грин

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      “When did you first learn of her remarkable disappearance from this house during the night?”

      “This morning before breakfast. Molly met me in the hall, and asked how Hannah was. I thought the inquiry a strange one, and naturally questioned her. A moment’s talk made the conclusion plain that the girl was gone.”

      “What did you think when you became assured of this fact?”

      “I did not know what to think.”

      “No suspicion of foul play crossed your mind?”

      “No, sir.”

      “You did not connect the fact with that of your uncle’s murder?”

      “I did not know of this murder then.”

      “And afterwards?”

      “Oh, some thought of the possibility of her knowing something about it may have crossed my mind; I cannot say.”

      “Can you tell us anything of this girl’s past history?”

      “I can tell you no more in regard to it than my cousin has done.”

      “Do you not know what made her sad at night?”

      Her cheek flushed angrily; was it at his tone, or at the question itself? “No, sir! she never confided her secrets to my keeping.”

      “Then you cannot tell us where she would be likely to go upon leaving this house?”

      “Certainly not.”

      “Miss Leavenworth, we are obliged to put another question to you. We are told it was by your order your uncle’s body was removed from where it was found, into the next room.”

      She bowed her head.

      “Didn’t you know it to be improper for you or any one else to disturb the body of a person found dead, except in the presence and under the authority of the proper officer?”

      “I did not consult my knowledge, sir, in regard to the subject: only my feelings.”

      “Then I suppose it was your feelings which prompted you to remain standing by the table at which he was murdered, instead of following the body in and seeing it properly deposited? Or perhaps,” he went on, with relentless sarcasm, “you were too much interested, just then, in the piece of paper you took away, to think much of the proprieties of the occasion?”

      “Paper?” lifting her head with determination. “Who says I took a piece of paper from the table?”

      “One witness has sworn to seeing you bend over the table upon which several papers lay strewn; another, to meeting you a few minutes later in the hall just as you were putting a piece of paper into your pocket. The inference follows, Miss Leavenworth.”

      This was a home thrust, and we looked to see some show of agitation, but her haughty lip never quivered.

      “You have drawn the inference, and you must prove the fact.”

      The answer was stateliness itself, and we were not surprised to see the coroner look a trifle baffled; but, recovering himself, he said:

      “Miss Leavenworth, I must ask you again, whether you did or did not take anything from that table?”

      She folded her arms. “I decline answering the question,” she quietly said.

      “Pardon me,” he rejoined: “it is necessary that you should.”

      Her lip took a still more determined curve. “When any suspicious paper is found in my possession, it will be time enough then for me to explain how I came by it.”

      This defiance seemed to quite stagger the coroner.

      “Do you realize to what this refusal is liable to subject you?”

      She dropped her head. “I am afraid that I do; yes, sir.”

      Mr. Gryce lifted his hand, and softly twirled the tassel of the window curtain.

      “And you still persist?”

      She absolutely disdained to reply.

      The coroner did not press it further.

      It had now become evident to all, that Eleanore Leavenworth not only stood on her defence, but was perfectly aware of her position, and prepared to maintain it. Even her cousin, who until now had preserved some sort of composure, began to show signs of strong and uncontrollable agitation, as if she found it one thing to utter an accusation herself, and quite another to see it mirrored in the countenances of the men about her.

      “Miss Leavenworth,” the coroner continued, changing the line of attack, “you have always had free access to your uncle’s apartments, have you not?”

      “Yes, sir.”

      “Might even have entered his room late at night, crossed it and stood at his side, without disturbing him sufficiently to cause him to turn his head?”

      “Yes,” her hands pressing themselves painfully together.

      “Miss Leavenworth, the key to the library door is missing.”

      She made no answer.

      “It has been testified to, that previous to the actual discovery of the murder, you visited the door of the library alone. Will you tell us if the key was then in the lock?”

      “It was not.”

      “Are you certain?”

      “I am.”

      “Now, was there anything peculiar about this key, either in size or shape?”

      She strove to repress the sudden terror which this question produced, glanced carelessly around at the group of servants stationed at her back, and trembled. “It was a little different from the others,” she finally acknowledged.

      “In what respect?”

      “The handle was broken.”

      “Ah, gentlemen, the handle was broken!” emphasized the coroner, looking towards the jury.

      Mr. Gryce seemed to take this information to himself, for he gave another of his quick nods.

      “You would, then, recognize this key, Miss Leavenworth, if you should see it?”

      She cast a startled look at him, as if she expected to behold it in his hand; but, seeming to gather courage at not finding it produced, replied quite easily:

      “I think I should, sir.”

      The coroner seemed satisfied, and was about to dismiss the witness when СКАЧАТЬ