The Greatest Works of Anna Katharine Green. Анна Грин

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      Chapter XII.

       The Keys

       Table of Contents

      We were all by this time greatly interested in the proceedings; and when another hackman was called we recognized at once that an effort was about to be made to connect this couple with the one who had alighted at Mr. Van Burnam’s door.

      The witness, who was a melancholy chap, kept his stand on the east side of the Square. At about twenty minutes to twelve, he was awakened from a nap he had been taking on the top of his coach, by a sharp rap on his whip arm, and looking down, he saw a lady and gentleman standing at the door of his vehicle.

      “We want to go to Gramercy Park,” said the lady. “Drive us there at once.”

      “I nodded, for what is the use of wasting words when it can be avoided; and they stepped at once into the coach.”

      “Can you describe them—tell us how they looked?”

      “I never notice people; besides, it was dark; but he had a swell air, and she was pert and merry, for she laughed as she closed the door.”

      “Can’t you remember how they were dressed?”

      “No, sir; she had on something that flapped about her shoulders, and he had a dark hat on his head, but that was all I saw.”

      “Didn’t you see his face?”

      “Not a bit of it; he kept it turned away. He didn’t want nobody looking at him. She did all the business.”

      “Then you saw her face?”

      “Yes, for a minute. But I wouldn’t know it again. She was young and purty, and her hand which dropped the money into mine was small, but I couldn’t say no more, not if you was to give me the town.”

      “Did you know that the house you stopped at was Mr. Van Burnam’s, and that it was supposed to be empty?”

      “No, sir, I’m not one of the swell ones. My acquaintances live in another part of the town.”

      “But you noticed that the house was dark?”

      “I may have. I don’t know.”

      “And that is all you have to tell us about them?”

      “No, sir; the next morning, which was yesterday, sir, as I was a-dusting out the coach I found under the cushions a large blue veil, folded and lying very flat. But it had been slit with a knife and could not be worn.”

      This was strange too, and while more than one person about me ventured an opinion, I muttered to myself, “James Pope, his mark!” astonished at a coincidence which so completely connected the occupants of the two coaches.

      But the Coroner was able to produce a witness whose evidence carried the matter on still farther. A policeman in full uniform testified next, and after explaining that his beat led him from Madison Avenue to Third on Twenty-seventh Street, went on to say that as he was coming up this street on Tuesday evening some few minutes before midnight, he encountered, somewhere between Lexington Avenue and Third, a man and woman walking rapidly towards the latter avenue, each carrying a parcel of some dimensions; that he noted them because they seemed so merry, but would have thought nothing of it, if he had not presently perceived them coming back without the parcels. They were chatting more gaily than ever. The lady wore a short cape, and the gentleman a dark coat, but he could give no other description of their appearance, for they went by rapidly, and he was more interested in wondering what they had done with such large parcels in such a short time at that hour of night, than in noting how they looked or whither they were going. He did observe, however, that they proceeded towards Madison Square, and remembers now that he heard a carriage suddenly drive away from that direction.

      The Coroner asked him but one question:

      “Had the lady no parcel when you saw her last?”

      “I saw none.”

      “Could she not have carried one under her cape?”

      “Perhaps, if it was small enough.”

      “As small as a lady’s hat, say?”

      “Well, it would have to be smaller than some of them are now, sir.”

      And so terminated this portion of the inquiry.

      A short delay followed the withdrawal of this witness. The Coroner, who was a somewhat portly man, and who had felt the heat of the day very much, leaned back and looked anxious, while the jury, always restless, moved in their seats like a set of school-boys, and seemed to long for the hour of adjournment, notwithstanding the interest which everybody but themselves seemed to take in this exciting investigation.

      Finally an officer, who had been sent into the adjoining room, came back with a gentleman, who was no sooner recognized as Mr. Franklin Van Burnam than a great change took place in the countenances of all present. The Coroner sat forward and dropped the large palm-leaf fan he had been industriously using for the last few minutes, the jury settled down, and the whispering of the many curious ones about me grew less audible and finally ceased altogether. A gentleman of the family was about to be interrogated, and such a gentleman!

      I have purposely refrained from describing this best known and best reputed member of the Van Burnam family, foreseeing this hour when he would attract the attention of a hundred eyes and when his appearance would require our special notice. I will therefore endeavor to picture him to you as he looked on this memorable morning, with just the simple warning that you must not expect me to see with the eyes of a young girl or even with those of a fashionable society woman. I know a man when I see him, and I had always regarded Mr. Franklin as an exceptionally fine-looking and prepossessing gentleman, but I shall not go into raptures, as I heard a girl behind me doing, nor do I feel like acknowledging him as a paragon of all the virtues—as Mrs. Cunningham did that evening in my parlor.

      He is a medium-sized man, with a shape not unlike his brother’s. His hair is dark and so are his eyes, but his moustache is brown and his complexion quite fair. He carries himself with distinction, and though his countenance in repose has a precise air that is not perfectly agreeable, it has, when he speaks СКАЧАТЬ