The Eye of Osiris

that they had neither seen nor heard anything of the testator, and were both unaware that he had returned to England. As the circumstances were somewhat disquieting, I communicated, on the following morning, with the police and requested them to make inquiries; which they did, with the result that a suitcase bearing the initials ‘J. B.,’ was found to be lying unclaimed in the cloakroom at Charing Cross Station. I was able to identify the suitcase as that which I had seen the testator carry away from Queen Square. I was also able to identify some of the contents. I interviewed the cloakroom attendant, who informed me that the suitcase had been deposited on the twenty-third about 4:15 p.m. He had no recollection of the person who deposited it. It remained unclaimed in the possession of the railway company for three months, and was then surrendered to me.”

“Were there any marks or labels on it showing the route by which it had traveled?”

“There were no labels on it and no marks other than the initials ‘J. B.’ ”

“Do you happen to know the testator’s age?”

“Yes. He was fifty-nine on the eleventh of October, nineteen hundred and two.”

“Can you tell us what his height was?”

“Yes. He was exactly five feet eight inches.”

“What sort of health had he?”

“So far as I know his health was good. I am not aware that he suffered from any disease. I am only judging by his appearance, which was that of a healthy man.”

“Should you describe him as well preserved or otherwise?”

“I should describe him as a well preserved man for his age.”

“How should you describe his figure?”

“I should describe him as rather broad and stout in build, and fairly muscular, though not exceptionally so.”

Mr. Loram made a rapid note of these answers and then said:

“You have told us, Mr. Jellicoe, that you have known the testator intimately for twenty-seven years. Now, did you ever notice whether he was accustomed to wear any rings upon his fingers?”

“He wore upon the third finger of his left hand a copy of an antique ring which bore the device of the Eye of Osiris. That was the only ring he ever wore as far as I know.”

“Did he wear it constantly?”

“Yes, necessarily; because it was too small for him, and having once squeezed it on he was never able to get it off again.”

This was the sum of Mr. Jellicoe’s evidence, and at its conclusion the witness glanced inquiringly at Mr. Bellingham’s counsel. But Mr. Heath remained seated, attentively considering the notes that he had just made, and finding that there was to be no cross-examination, Mr. Jellicoe stepped down from the box. I leaned back on my bench, and, turning my head, observed Miss Bellingham deep in thought.

“What do you think of it?” I asked.

“It seems very complete and conclusive,” she replied. And then, with a sigh, she murmured: “Poor old Uncle John! How horrid it sounds to talk of him in this cold-blooded, businesslike way, as ‘the testator,’ as if he were nothing but a sort of algebraical sign.”

“There isn’t much room for sentiment, I suppose, in the proceedings of the Probate Court,” I replied. To which she assented, and then asked: “Who is this lady?”

“This lady” was a fashionably dressed young woman who had just bounced into the witness-box and was now being sworn. The preliminaries being finished, she answered Miss Bellingham’s question and Mr. Loram’s by stating that her name was Augustina Gwendoline Dobbs, and that she was housemaid to Mr. George Hurst, of “The Poplars,” Eltham.

“Mr. Hurst lives alone, I believe?” said Mr. Loram.

“I don’t know what you mean by that,” Miss Dobbs began; but the barrister explained:

“I mean that I believe he is unmarried?”

“Well, and what about it?” the witness demanded tartly.

“I am asking you a question.”

“I know that,” said the witness viciously; “and I say that you’ve no business to make any such insinuations to a respectable young lady when there’s a cook-housekeeper and a kitchenmaid living in the house, and him old enough to be my father⁠—”

Here his lordship flattened his eyelids with startling effect, and Mr. Loram interrupted: “I make no insinuations. I merely ask, Is your employer, Mr. Hurst, an unmarried man, or is he not?”

“I never asked him,” said the witness sulkily.

“Please answer my question⁠—yes or no.”

“How can I answer your question? He may be married or he may not. How do I know? I’m no private detective.”

Mr. Loram directed a stupefied gaze at the witness, and in the ensuing silence a plaintive voice came from the bench:

“Is that point material?”

“Certainly, my lord,” replied Mr. Loram.

“Then, as I see that you are calling Mr. Hurst, perhaps you had better put the question to him. He will probably know.”

Mr. Loram bowed, and as the Judge subsided into his normal state of coma he turned to the triumphant witness.

“Do you remember anything remarkable occurring on the twenty-third of November the year before last?”

“Yes. Mr. John Bellingham called at our house.”

“How did you know he was Mr. John Bellingham?”

“I didn’t; but he said he was, and I supposed he knew.”

“At what time did he arrive?”

“At twenty minutes past five in the evening.”

“What happened then?”

“I told him that Mr. Hurst had not come home yet, and he said he would wait for him in the study and write some letters; so I showed him into the study and shut the door.”

“What happened next?”

“Nothing. Then Mr. Hurst came home at his usual time⁠—a quarter to six⁠—and let himself in with his key. He went straight into the study where I supposed Mr. Bellingham still was, so I took no notice, but laid the table for two. At six o’clock Mr. Hurst came into the dining-room⁠—he has tea in the City and dines at six⁠—and when he saw the table laid for two he asked the reason. I said I thought Mr. Bellingham was staying to dinner.

“ ‘Mr. Bellingham!’ says he. ‘I didn’t know he was here. Why didn’t you tell me?’ he says.