“No.”
“Miss Dare,” said he, with greater mildness, after a short pause, “you have answered my somewhat painful inquiries with a straightforwardness I cannot sufficiently commend. If you will now add to my gratitude by telling me whether you have informed anyone else of the important facts you have just given me, I will distress you by no further questions.”
“Sir,” said she, and her attitude showed that she could endure but little more, “I have taken no one else into my confidence. Such knowledge as I had to impart was not matter for idle gossip.”
And Mr. Ferris, being thus assured that his own surmises and that of Hickory were correct, bowed with the respect her pale face and rigid attitude seemed to demand, and considerately left the house.
XXII
Craik Mansell
Bring me unto my trial when you will.
Henry VI
“He is here.”
Mr. Ferris threw aside his cigar, and looked up at Mr. Byrd, who was standing before him.
“You had no difficulty, then?”
“No, sir. He acted like a man in hourly expectation of some such summons. At the very first intimation of your desire to see him in Sibley, he rose from his desk, with what I thought was a meaning look at Mr. Goodman, and after a few preparations for departure, signified he was ready to take the next train.”
“And did he ask no questions?”
“Only one. He wished to know if I were a detective. And when I responded ‘Yes,’ observed with an inquiring look: ‘I am wanted as a witness, I suppose.’ A suggestion to which I was careful to make no reply.”
Mr. Ferris pushed aside his writing and glanced toward the door. “Show him in, Mr. Byrd,” said he.
A moment after Mr. Mansell entered the room.
The District Attorney had never seen this man, and was struck at once by the force and manliness of his appearance. Half-rising from his seat to greet the visitor, he said:
“I have to beg your pardon, Mr. Mansell. Feeling it quite necessary to see you, I took the liberty of requesting you to take this journey, my own time being fully occupied at present.”
Mr. Mansell bowed—a slow, self-possessed bow—and advancing to the table before which the District Attorney sat, laid his hand firmly upon it and said:
“No apologies are needed.” Then shortly, “What is it you want of me?”
The words were almost the same as those which had been used by Mr. Hildreth under similar circumstances, but how different was their effect! The one was the utterance of a weak man driven to bay, the other of a strong one. Mr. Ferris, who was by no means of an impressible organization, flashed a look of somewhat uneasy doubt at Mr. Byrd, and hesitated slightly before proceeding.
“We have sent for you in this friendly way,” he remarked, at last, “in order to give you that opportunity for explaining certain matters connected with your aunt’s sudden death which your well-known character and good position seem to warrant. We think you can do this. At all events I have accorded myself the privilege of so supposing; and any words you may have to say will meet with all due consideration. As Mrs. Clemmens’ nephew, you, of course, desire to see her murderer brought to justice.”
The slightly rising inflection given to the last few words made them to all intents and purposes a question, and Mr. Byrd, who stood near by, waited anxiously for the decided Yes which seemed the only possible reply under the circumstances, but it did not come.
Surprised, and possibly anxious, the District Attorney repeated himself.
“As her nephew,” said he, “and the inheritor of the few savings she has left behind her, you can have but one wish on this subject, Mr. Mansell?”
But this attempt succeeded no better than the first. Beyond a slight compression of the lips, Mr. Mansell gave no manifestation of having heard this remark, and both Mr. Ferris and the detective found themselves forced to wonder at the rigid honesty of a man who, whatever death-giving blow he may have dealt, would not allow himself to escape the prejudice of his accusers by assenting to a supposition he and they knew to be false.
Mr. Ferris did not press the question.
“Mr. Mansell,” he remarked instead, “a person by the name of Gouverneur Hildreth is, as you must know, under arrest at this time, charged with the crime of having given the blow that led to your aunt’s death. The evidence against him is strong, and the public generally have no doubt that his arrest will lead to trial, if not to conviction. But, unfortunately for us, however fortunately for him, another person has lately been found, against whom an equal show of evidence can be raised, and it is for the purpose of satisfying ourselves that it is but a show, we have requested your presence here today.”
A spasm, vivid as it was instantaneous, distorted for a moment the powerful features of Craik Mansell at the words, “another person,” but it was gone before the sentence was completed; and when Mr. Ferris ceased, he looked up with the steady calmness which made his bearing so remarkable.
“I am waiting to hear the name of this freshly suspected person,” he observed.
“Cannot you imagine?” asked the District Attorney, coldly, secretly disconcerted under a gaze that held his own with such steady persistence.
The eyeballs of the other flashed like coals of fire.
“I think it is my right to hear it spoken,” he returned.
This display of feeling restored Mr. Ferris to himself.
“In a moment, sir,” said he. “Meanwhile, have you any objections to answering a few questions I would like to put to you?”
“I will hear them,” was the steady reply.
“You know,” said the District Attorney, “you are at perfect liberty to answer or not, as you see fit. I have no desire to entrap you into any acknowledgments you may
