The quietness with which this change was made, and the slight, almost imperceptible, alteration in the manner of the person making it, brought a sudden enlightenment to Mr. Byrd, and he at once made up his mind that this dull, abstracted-looking nonentity leaning with such apparent unconcern against the wall, was the new detective who had been sent up that morning from New York. His curiosity in regard to the identity of the individual round the corner was not lessened by this.
Meantime the coroner had answered the hasty exclamation of the witness, by disclaiming the existence of any special meaning of his own, and had furthermore pressed the question as to who this Mr. Hildreth was.
She immediately answered: “A gentleman of Toledo, sir; a young man who could only come into his property by the death of Mrs. Clemmens.”
“How? You have not spoken of any such person as connected with her.”
“No,” was her steady response; “nor was he so connected by any tie of family or friendship. Indeed, I do not know as they were ever acquainted, or, as for that matter, ever saw each other’s faces. The fact to which I allude was simply the result of a will, sir, made by Mr. Hildreth’s grandfather.”
“A will? Explain yourself. I do not understand.”
“Well, sir, I do not know much about the law, and may make a dozen mistakes in telling you what you wish to know; but what I understand about the matter is this: Mr. Hildreth, the grandfather of the gentleman of whom I have just spoken, having a large property, which he wanted to leave in bulk to his grandchildren—their father being a very dissipated and reckless man—made his will in such a way as to prevent its distribution among his heirs till after the death of two persons whom he mentioned by name. Of these two persons one was the son of his head clerk, a young boy, who sickened and died shortly after Mr. Hildreth himself, and the other my cousin, the poor murdered woman, who was then a little girl visiting the family. I do not know how she came to be chosen by him for this purpose, unless it was that she was particularly round and ruddy as a child, and looked as if she might live for many years.”
“And the Hildreths? What of them during these years?”
“Well, I cannot exactly say, as I never had any acquaintance with them myself. But I know that the father, whose dissipated habits were the cause of this peculiar will tying up the property, died some little time ago; also one or two of his children, but beyond that I know little, except that the remaining heirs are a young gentleman and one or two young girls, all of the worldliest and most fashionable description.”
The coroner, who had followed all this with the greatest interest, now asked if she knew the first name of the young gentleman.
“Yes,” said she, “I do. It is Gouverneur.”
The coroner gave a satisfied nod, and remarked casually, “It is not a common name,” and then, leaning forward, selected a paper from among several that lay on the table before him. “Miss Firman,” he inquired, retaining this paper in his hand, “do you know when it was that Mrs. Clemmens first became acquainted with the fact of her name having been made use of in the elder Mr. Hildreth’s will?”
“Oh, years ago; when she first came of age, I believe.”
“Was it an occasion of regret to her? Did she ever express herself as sorry for the position in which she stood toward this family?”
“Yes, sir; she did.”
The coroner’s face assumed a yet greater gravity, and his manner became more and more impressive.
“Can you go a step farther and say that she ever acknowledged herself to have cherished apprehensions of her personal safety, during these years of weary waiting on the part of the naturally impatient heirs?”
A distressed look crossed the amiable spinster’s face, and she looked around at the jury with an expression almost deprecatory in its nature.
“I scarcely know what answer to give,” she hesitatingly declared. “It is a good deal to say that she was apprehensive; but I cannot help remembering that she once told me her peace of mind had left her since she knew there were persons in the world to whom her death would be a matter of rejoicing. ‘It makes me feel as if I were keeping people out of their rights,’ she remarked at the same time. ‘And, though it is not my fault, I should not be surprised if some day I had to suffer for it.’ ”
“Was there ever any communication made to Mrs. Clemmens by persons cognizant of the relation in which she stood to these Hildreths?—or any facts or gossip detailed to her concerning them, that would seem to give color to her fears and supply her with any actual grounds for her apprehensions?”
“No; only such tales as came to her of their expensive ways of living and somewhat headlong rush into all fashionable freaks and follies.”
“And Gouverneur Hildreth? Any special gossip in regard to him?”
“No!”
There are some noes that are equivalent to affirmations. This was one of them. Naturally the coroner pressed the question.
“I must request you to think again,” he persisted. Then, with a change of voice: “Are you sure you have never heard anything specially derogatory to this young man, or that Mrs. Clemmens had not?”
“I have friends in Toledo who speak of him as the fastest man about town, if that could be called derogatory. As for Mrs. Clemmens, she may have heard as much, and she may have heard more, I cannot say. I know she always frowned when his father’s name was mentioned.”
“Miss Firman,” proceeded the coroner, “in the long years in
