Having arrived at the town-hall, I made the personal statement to which the doctor had referred. Among the questions put to me, I was asked if I had any direct interest in the matter—either as regarded Mrs. Wagner or any other person. Having answered that I was Mrs. Wagner's nephew, I was instructed to declare in writing, that I approved (as Mrs. Wagner's representative) of the doctor's statement and of Mr. Keller's withdrawal of his application.
With this, the formal proceedings terminated, and I was free to return to the house.
III
Joseph had his orders, this time. He spoke like a reasonable being—he said the doctor was waiting for me, in Madame Fontaine's room. The place of the appointment rather surprised me.
The doctor opened the door—but paused before he admitted me.
'I think you were the first person,' he said, 'who saw Mr. Keller, on the morning when he was taken ill?'
'After the late Mr. Engelman,' I answered, 'I was the first person.
'Come in, then. I want you to look at Madame Fontaine.'
He led me to the bedside. The instant I looked at her, I saw Mr. Keller's illness reproduced, in every symptom. There she lay, in the same apathy; with the same wan look on her face, and the same intermittent trembling of her hands. When I recovered the first shock of the discovery, I was able to notice poor Minna, kneeling at the opposite side of the bed, weeping bitterly. 'Oh, my dear one!' she cried, in a passion of grief, 'look at me! speak to me!'
The mother opened her eyes for a moment—looked at Minna—and closed them again wearily. 'Leave me quiet,' she said, in tones of fretful entreaty. Minna rose and bent over the pillow tenderly. 'Your poor lips look so parched,' she said; 'let me give you some lemonade?' Madame Fontaine only repeated the words, 'Leave me quiet.' The same reluctance to raise her heavy eyelids, the same entreaty to be left undisturbed, which had alarmed me on the memorable morning when I had entered Mr. Keller's room!
Doctor Dormann signed to me to follow him out. As he opened the door, the nurse inquired if he had any further instructions for her. 'Send for me, the moment you see a change,' he answered; 'I shall be in the drawing- room, with Mr. Glenney.' I silently pressed poor Minna's hand, before I left her. Who could have presumed, at that moment, to express sympathy in words?
The doctor and I descended the stairs together. 'Does her illness remind you of anything?' he asked.
'Of Mr. Keller's illness,' I answered, 'exactly as I remember it.'
He made no further remark. We entered the drawing-room. I inquired if I could see my aunt.
'You must wait a little,' he said. 'Mrs. Wagner is asleep. The longer she sleeps the more complete her recovery will be. My main anxiety is about Jack. He is quiet enough now, keeping watch outside her door; but he has given me some trouble. I wish I knew more of his early history. From all I can learn, he was only what is called 'half- witted,' when they received him at the asylum in London. The cruel repressive treatment in that place aggravated his imbecility into violent madness—and such madness has a tendency to recur. Mrs. Wagner's influence, which has already done so much, is my main hope for the future. Sit down, and let me explain the strange position in which you find us here, as well as I can.'
IV
'Do you remember how Mr. Keller's illness was cured?' the doctor began.
Those words instantly reminded me, not only of Doctor Dormann's mysterious suspicions at the time of the illness, but of Jack's extraordinary question to me, on the morning when I left Frankfort. The doctor saw that I answered him with some little embarrassment.
'Let us open our minds to each other, without reserve,' he said. 'I have set you thinking of something. What is it?'
I replied, concealing nothing. Doctor Dormann was equally candid on his side. He spoke to me, exactly as he is reported to have spoken to Mr. Keller, in the Second Part of this narrative.
'You now know,' he proceeded, 'what I thought of Mr. Keller's extraordinary recovery, and what I feared when I found Mrs. Wagner (as I then firmly believed) dead. My suspicions of poisoning pointed to the poisoner. Madame Fontaine's wonderful cure of Mr. Keller, by means of her own mysterious remedy, made me suspect Madame Fontaine. My motive, in refusing to give the burial certificate, was to provoke the legal inquiry, which I knew that Mr. Keller would institute, on the mere expression of a doubt, on my part, whether your aunt had died a natural death. At that time, I had not the slightest anticipation of the event that has actually occurred. Before, however, we had removed the remains to the Deadhouse, I must own I was a little startled—prepare yourself for a surprise—by a private communication, addressed to me by Jack.'
He repeated Jack's narrative of the opening of the Pink-Room cupboard, and the administration of the antidote to Mrs. Wagner.
'You will understand,' he went on, 'that I was too well aware of the marked difference between Mr. Keller's illness and Mrs. Wagner's illness to suppose for a moment that the same poison had been given to both of them. I was, therefore, far from sharing Jack's blind confidence in the efficacy of the blue-glass bottle, in the case of his mistress. But I tell you, honestly, my mind was disturbed about it. Towards night, my thoughts were again directed to the subject, under mysterious circumstances. Mr. Keller and I accompanied the hearse to the Deadhouse. On our way through the streets, I was followed and stopped by Madame Fontaine. She had something to give me. Here it is.'
He laid on the table a sheet of thick paper, closely covered with writing in cipher.
V
'Whose writing is this?' I asked.
'The writing of Madame Fontaine's late husband.'
'And she put it into your hands!'
'Yes—and asked me to interpret the cipher for her.'
'It's simply incomprehensible.'
'Not in the least. She knew the use to which Jack had put her antidote, and (in her ignorance of chemistry) she was eager to be prepared for any consequences which might follow. Can you guess on what chance I calculated, when I consented to interpret the cipher?'
