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CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER I.
At six o'clock in the evening of the first day of March, in the year of Grace, 1898, Abel Death, a man of middle age, with a face appropriate to his name--which should never be given to any living human being--was sitting at his desk, employed in the task of writing the last of a number of letters, in accordance with the instructions of his employer, Mr. Samuel Boyd, of No. 6, Catchpole Square, in the North district of London. The letters all referred to Money: to Money due for principal and int
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CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER II.
Abel Death experienced a feeling of relief when he heard the street door slammed in token that Mr. Reginald was gone. Whatever his thoughts may have been with reference to that young gentleman he did not give audible utterance to them, but an occasional shake of his head as he worked at the books, and an occasional pause during which he rested his chin upon the palm of his hand in reflection, were an evidence that though Mr. Reginald was out of sight he was not out of mind. At first he worked ra
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CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER III.
A close and crafty face, masking a soul which knew no mercy and gave none. The grave holds its secrets, and holds them no less securely than Mr. Samuel Boyd, in his outward presentment to his fellow man, believed he held his. Whether the pursuit of pleasure for the delights--be they fair or foul--that pleasure brings, or the pursuit of wealth for the power it confers, was the dominant principle of this man's life, no human being could truthfully say, for no human being was admitted into his conf
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CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER IV.
Was it indeed a grave, and were the phantom shapes thrown upon the walls and ceiling by the flickering light the phantoms of the dead that were buried there? How easy to imagine this--how easy to imagine that, animated by a spirit of revenge for past wrongs and injuries, they moved and shifted, and glided hither and thither, and took fantastic and monstrous form, for the purpose of striking terror into the heart of the enemy who had filled their lives with suffering and brought them to an untime
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CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER V.
In the course of the next few days the weather exhibited its vagaries in a more than usually astonishing fashion. On the night of the 1st of March the sobbing and the moaning of the wind continued till early morning, when it pleased the air to become mild and balmy, almost promising the advent of spring. A few bold buds awoke and peeped out of their little brown beds, and over the atmosphere hung a hazy veil of dim, delicious sapphire. On the following day this promise was destroyed, and another
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CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VI.
"What a night!" then exclaimed Constable Pond. "The worst I ever saw," responded Constable Applebee. "It's a record, that's what it is. We had a bad spell in December--lasted two days--you remember it, Pond? "Should think I did." "It was nothing compared to this. I'd sooner walk through a foot and a half of snow than through such a fog. It gets into the eyes, and into the chest, and into the head; you can squeeze it through your fingers. When it's snow you know where you are; there it is, at you
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CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VII.
Availing itself of the privilege to creep through every chink and crevice, to steal up backstairs and take advantage of every keyhole, and to make its dismal presence felt equally within the habitations of man as without, the white fog had insinuated itself into the Bishop Street Police Station, where it lay in the form of a semi-transparent shroud, and where Inspector Robson looked more like the ghost of a man than the man himself. In the brightest of weather the office was not a cheerful apart
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CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER VIII.
Dick Remington waited patiently to hear the full sum of the reproaches which Aunt Rob brought against him. He, too, saw with his mind's eye the image of the young girl for whom he would have laid down his life, and if his thoughts of her brought a pang to his heart they were at the same time charged with exceeding tenderness. Inspector Robson shook himself free from dreams, and returned to his subject. "That is what Aunt Rob says. 'Here is Dick a grown man, and here is Florence almost a grown wo
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CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER IX.
She spoke in a hoarse voice, and very slowly, a scraping, grating cough accompanying her words. "Mr. Samuel Boyd, sir, of Catchpole Square," might, according to her utterance, have lain in a charnel-house among the bones of the dead when she fished him up for the information of Inspector Robson. Such a rasping cough, forcing what little blood she had in her poor body up into her pallid face, where it stood out in blotches of dull, unhealthy red! Such a wearing, tearing cough, as though some sava
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CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER X.
"Is that in your line, Dick?" said Inspector Robson. "You were wishing for something startling, and I should say you've got it." "It is hardly startling enough yet," Dick replied, "but there's no telling what it may lead to. Have you formed an opinion?" "I haven't heard lately of any dead bodies being found that couldn't be identified, but it looks to me as if the man has made away with himself." "No, uncle. I'll take his own word for it that he'd do his duty and fight it out to the bitter end."
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CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XI.
Dick Remington also mused as he made his way through the white mist. His thoughts, put into words, ran in this wise: "Come, old man, let us review the past, and see how we stand. If I'm not mistaken Aunt Rob has hit the nail straight on the head, and Uncle Rob made a clumsy blow at it. But my secret is mine, and I will guard it jealously. "Dear little Florence! My chum, my comrade, almost from the day of her birth. Boys aren't generally fond of babies, but I was of her from the first; and when a
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CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XII.
But Dick's nature was too elastic for morbid reflections such as these to hold possession of him for any length of time. "Come, come, old man," ran again the tenor of his musings, "this sort of thing won't do, you know. What's the use of crying for the moon? Leave that to children. Now where did I leave off? Ah--where Mr. Reginald was a regular visitor at Aunt Rob's house. All that time the name of Boyd was not mentioned by Florence or her parents. Nor did it pass my lips. "I took service with M
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CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIII.
"Worry enough, in all conscience," said Dick, "and you've got a level head, too, if any member of the force has. You're the last man I should have expected to be scared by shadows." "Not what you might call scared," replied Constable Applebee, unwilling to admit as much to a layman; "put out, sir, put out--that's the right word. A man may be put out in so many ways. His wife may put him out--and she often does--an underdone chop may put him out--a fractious child may put him out--likewise button
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CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XIV.
"The Little Busy Bee" was an afternoon newspaper with a great circulation, which took for its motto the familiar lines:-- "How doth the Little Busy Bee Improve each shining hour, And gather honey all the day From ev'ry opening flow'r." To this journal Dick had been an occasional contributor, and he was responsible for a paragraph which appeared in its columns on the day following Mrs. Death's visit to the police station: "BISHOP STREET POLICE COURT.--A respectable woman, in great distress of min
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CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XV.
" Dear me, sir!" said Mrs. Pond, who had noticed that he had turned pale. "Are you taken ill?" "It is nothing, nothing," replied Dick, hurriedly, and contradicted himself by adding, "It must be the perfume on this handkerchief. There are perfumes that make me feel faint." "I don't think there's any scent on it, sir," said Mrs. Pond, "leastways, I didn't notice any. Some scents do have that effect upon people. There's a cousin of mine who faints dead away at the smell of a hot boiled egg. There's
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CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVI.
Aunt Rob, a healthy, homely woman of forty-five, was standing at the door of her house, looking up and down the street for the form of one she loved, looking up to heaven for a message to ease her bruised heart. A terrible blow had fallen upon her home, and the grief, the fear, the tortured love in her eyes, were pitiable to see. Before Dick was near enough to observe these signs of distress she had caught sight of him and was running towards him, the tears streaming down her cheeks. "Oh, Dick,
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CHAPTER XVII.
CHAPTER XVII.
Had Dick timed his visit to Draper's Mews a couple of hours earlier he would have had a second instance in one day of female hands at the wash-tub--in this case not a wash-tub but a cracked and leaky basin, from the sides of which the soapy water dripped upon a very thin pair of female legs. In the second instance it would not have been a woman whom he would have seen, but a child--none other than little Gracie, who, with all the importance of budding washerwoman thick upon her (although, humanl
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CHAPTER XVIII.
CHAPTER XVIII.
They went out together to ascertain who it was, and the man repeated his question, and observed that it was very dark there. "I'll get a light, sir," said Mrs. Death in an agitated tone. "I hope you haven't brought me bad news." "No," the man answered, "good news I trust you will find it. I have come to attend to your little girl, who, I hear, has a bad attack of bronchitis." "Are you a doctor, sir?" she asked. "Yes, I am a doctor," he answered. "Dr. Vinsen." "It's very good of you, sir, and Gra
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CHAPTER XIX.
CHAPTER XIX.
The night was well on by this time, and though he did not intend to commence operations in Catchpole Square before midnight, there was plenty for him to do in the meantime. He made his way, therefore, with all expedition to his lodgings, fortifying himself on the road with a substantial meal at a cheap restaurant, and purchasing candles, matches, and half a pint of brandy. His spirits rose at the prospect of adventure; there is nothing like the uncertain to keep the blood at fever heat. Mrs. App
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CHAPTER XX.
CHAPTER XX.
His familiarity with the regulations and movements of the police hailing from the Bishop Street Police Station was of assistance to him. He knew that one end of Constable Applebee's beat was close to Catchpole Square, and his design was to watch for that officer's approach, and to remain hidden till he turned in the opposite direction. This would ensure him freedom of action for some fifteen or twenty minutes, time sufficient to enable him to mount the wall. He experienced little difficulty in t
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CHAPTER XXI.
CHAPTER XXI.
He reeled back in horror, but even in that one moment of discovery the necessity of preserving self-control forced itself upon him, and he became calm. The first real step in the mystery was taken, and all his powers of sober reason were needed to consider what would follow, and in what way the dread discovery would affect the beings he held most dear. Fortifying himself with a sip of brandy, and putting into a candlestick the candle he had held in his hand, he turned down the sheets to ascertai
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CHAPTER XXII.
CHAPTER XXII.
"At last!" said Dick. "At last a ray of light! What's the time?" He looked at a clock in a baker's shop. "Five minutes past ten. Ought I to go to her at once? No, I think not. Had she wanted me earlier she would have said, 'Come to me the moment you get this letter.' Four long hours to wait. What am I to do with myself till two o'clock?" With the idea of making time fly faster he began to count his steps-- ten, twenty, thirty, one hundred, two hundred, three hundred. He made a calculation. A ste
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CHAPTER XXIII.
CHAPTER XXIII.
The hands of all the clocks in Islington that kept correct time marked the hour of two as Dick stood before the door of 16, Park Street. His hand was on the knocker, when the door was opened, and Florence drew him into the house. "Come upstairs, Dick," she said, panting as if she had been running. "I saw you from the window, and ran down. Oh, Dick, I am so glad to see you--so glad, so glad!" On the landing of the first floor she stopped and kissed him. "Come in, Dick, come in." They entered a co
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CHAPTER XXIV.
CHAPTER XXIV.
The admonition was needed, for his brain was in a whirl. The disclosure of Reginald's movements made by Florence, his statement to her that he had an idea for improving his circumstances which he intended to carry out "whatever came of it," his silence regarding his visits to the house in Catchpole Square, his fevered ravings about his father--were, as Dick said with a groan, "so many nails in his coffin." "No doubt can exist," he argued, "that Samuel Boyd was murdered either by his son Reginald
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CHAPTER XXV.
CHAPTER XXV.
A fine starlight night, and the weather fair all over England, especially in Bournemouth where, in their beautiful estate, The Gables, Lord and Lady Wharton are giving their yearly ball. The air is soft and balmy in this favoured southern retreat, and though it is too early yet for the rhododendrons, the gardens are bright with flowers. Guests are riding to The Gables from all parts of the county, for this annual function is eagerly looked forward to by the belles and beaus of Hampshire. At elev
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CHAPTER XXVI.
CHAPTER XXVI.
Two days afterwards, that is, on the 9th of March, some hours after the morning papers were in circulation, all London was ringing with the news of the mysterious murder in Catchpole Square. The name of Samuel Boyd was on every tongue; the newsboys shouted it out raucously and jubilantly, with the full force of their lungs, and the wind carried it into all the highways and byeways of the vast metropolis; it was printed on the variously coloured waybills of the newspapers in scarlet letters, gree
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CHAPTER XXVII.
CHAPTER XXVII.
"Special and exclusive information has just reached us of A Remarkable and Ghastly Murder in the North of London, and we hasten to lay the particulars before the public. It will be fresh in the recollection of our readers that in our Tuesday's editions we drew attention to a blind thoroughfare in that neighbourhood, known as Catchpole Square, to which the only access is through a hooded passage, bearing the ominous and significant designation of Deadman's Court. On that morning a poor woman, acc
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CHAPTER XXVIII.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
Inspector Robson, being on night duty, was not present at the Bishop Street Police Station when the reporter of "The Little Busy Bee" gave information of the murder. Aunt Rob had had a busy day; while admitting that her son-in-law was very weak, she insisted that he would have a greater chance of getting well in a short time if he were removed from his lodgings to their home. "It's his proper place," she said, "and I won't rest till I get him there." She argued with the doctor, one of the old sc
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CHAPTER XXIX.
CHAPTER XXIX.
Draper's Mews and its purlieus were on fire with excitement, raised by a spark dropped by a vicious beetle-browed coster, whose chronic state for years past had been too much beer, and liquor of a worse kind. Mrs. Death's neighbours were by no means unfavourably disposed towards her and her family. The kindness of the poor to the poor is proverbial, and there is much less friction in the way of social scandal among the lower classes than among those of higher rank. This was exemplified in Draper
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CHAPTER XXX.
CHAPTER XXX.
As it was in Draper's Mews so was it in other parts of the metropolis. The murder was talked of everywhere, and in some mysterious way the disappearance of Abel Death was associated with it. The wildest speculations were indulged in. He had gone to Australia, he had gone to America, he had never left England at all, he had taken with him an enormous sum of money which he had found in the house in Catchpole Square, he had so disguised himself that his own wife and children would not have known hi
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CHAPTER XXXI.
CHAPTER XXXI.
From time to time there had been murders committed in London with details dismal and sordid enough to satisfy the most rabid appetites, but it was generally admitted that the great Catchpole Square Mystery outvied them all in just those elements of attraction which render crime so weirdly fascinating to the British public. Men and women in North Islington experienced a feeling akin to that which the bestowal of an unexpected dignity confers, and when they retired to bed were more than ordinarily
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CHAPTER XXXII.
CHAPTER XXXII.
This morning, at the Coroner's Court, Bishop Street, Mr. John Kent, the Coroner for the district, opened an inquiry into the death of Mr. Samuel Boyd, of Catchpole Square, who was found dead in his house on Saturday, the 9th inst., under circumstances which have already been reported in the newspapers. The coroner, addressing the jury, said the initial proceedings would be chiefly formal. Their first duty would be to view the body of the deceased; after that certain witnesses would be examined w
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CHAPTER XXXIII.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
The Coroner: "I cannot allow the proceedings to be interrupted by any of the spectators, and I must request the person who spoke to preserve silence." The Lady (rising): "My name is Lady Wharton, and I know what I am saying. It is not in the nature of things to be silent when so monstrous a statement as that is made. I say again, it is impossible." The Coroner: "The witness has given his impression----" Lady Wharton: "He cannot be in his right senses, or he must have some motive----" The Coroner
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CHAPTER XXXIV.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
"There's trouble coming, there's trouble coming." This was the dominant thought in Dick's mind as he emerged from the court. Reporters, hurriedly gathering their sheets of notes and sketches, were hastening to their respective offices, and persons who had been unable to obtain admission were eagerly asking for news of what had taken place. The jurymen filed out, with a judicial weight on their brows, and the man who had put and prompted so many questions gave Dick a searching look as he passed.
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CHAPTER XXXV.
CHAPTER XXXV.
When the jury re-assembled on Wednesday the excitement created by the mystery had reached fever heat, and long before the Court was opened a crowd of people had gathered round the doors. Numbers of influential persons had applied for admission, and as many of these were accommodated as the limited space at the disposal of the Coroner would permit. The first day's proceedings had whetted curiosity, and many members of the aristocracy were present to hear the evidence which Lady Wharton was to giv
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CHAPTER XXXVI.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
These words, spoken loudly and emphatically, acted like a spark upon gunpowder, and it was not until the Coroner threatened several times to clear the Court that order was again restored. From Lady Wharton the attention of the audience was turned to Reginald, whose head was bowed in shame. Some pitied him, some condemned him, and all were feverishly curious to hear the outcome of Lady Wharton's disclosures. The only crumb of comfort Reginald received was expressed in the close clasp of Florence'
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CHAPTER XXXVII.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
There was an interval of almost breathless suspense as, upon the Coroner's instructions, an officer left the Court. Dick looked forward to the entrance of Dr. Pye with no less curiosity than the other spectators, but mingled with this curiosity was an element of alarm. Dark forebodings crossed his mind; he feared he knew not what, but still he smiled confidently at Florence when she turned imploringly to him, for she also was in that state of tension which made every fresh feature of the inquiry
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CHAPTER XXXVIII.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
In great agitation Reginald and his party left the Court and turned in the direction of home, followed at a short distance by a few persons, whose appetite, whetted by what had transpired, thirsted for more. Those whose fate seemed to hang upon the result of the inquiry exchanged but few words on the way. Dick was plunged in thought, and Florence clung more closely to Reginald. Inspector Robson and Aunt Rob exchanged disturbed glances; she was wildly indignant, but his official experience warned
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CHAPTER XXXIX.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
He did not resist. The enterprise to which he was pledged had so fastened itself upon his imagination that the least thing appertaining to it claimed first place. Except that her breath was short there were no symptoms of excitement in Gracie, but Dick was sufficiently conversant with her peculiar manner to know that she had something of importance to communicate. "Tell me as we go along," he said. "No," she answered, "you must see for yourself." "Don't walk so fast, then. We must not attract at
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CHAPTER XL.
CHAPTER XL.
At ten o'clock on this night, Dr. Pye was employed looking over a number of manuscripts, setting some aside and burning others, keeping a jealous eye upon the fire as he watched them moulder to ashes. Upon the table were a bottle of wine and two glass goblets of ancient manufacture and design. There were quaint stems to these goblets, one representing a serpent, the other a satyr, whose upraised face seemed to be trying to reach the rim. Priceless treasures of the antique. That the wine was prec
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CHAPTER XLI.
CHAPTER XLI.
Dr. Vinsen vainly seeking in the darkness for the cause of Dr. Pye's alarm, could not utter a word. In his listening attitude, with the white fear depicted on his countenance, he presented a terror-struck appearance, and seemed to be waiting for advancing footsteps, or for the sound of voices in the street without, demanding admittance. But the silence was not broken. "Can't you speak?" he then said in a whisper to his companion. "What is it? Is there anybody in the Square? Turn up the light." H
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CHAPTER XLII.
CHAPTER XLII.
On the following morning Aunt and Uncle Rob and Florence and Reginald sat at the breakfast table, waiting for Dick, who had not been home all night. Although they had had no word from him since he left them on the previous evening, they knew that he would join them at the earliest possible moment. It had been an anxious night with them, and they had had but little sleep. There were dark rims round Aunt Rob's eyes, and signs of unrest were on Uncle Rob's countenance. Singularly enough, the invali
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CHAPTER XLIII.
CHAPTER XLIII.
"There's villainy at the bottom of it," cried Aunt Rob. "Dick, you're our guardian angel, and that poor little girl, that I'd like to hug, is another. I knew that wretch on the jury was against us from the first. There was a sly, wicked look in his eyes every time he turned towards us, and when he began to speak I felt as if some one was cutting a cork; he set all my teeth on edge. Ought such a monster to be allowed to sit on a jury?" "Who's to prevent it?" said Uncle Rob, thoughtfully. "He's th
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CHAPTER XLIV.
CHAPTER XLIV.
"Now Gracie," said Dick, as they wended their way to a small "jobbing" printer with whom he was acquainted; he himself had spent a few weeks in a printing office, and, as a Jack of all trades, could do something in the way of picking up stamps. "Now, Gracie, pay particular attention to what I'm going to say." " I'd like to have a word first, please," she said. "Go ahead." "Who is that young gentleman with the white face that the young lady's so fond of?" "The young lady's husband, the son of Mr.
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CHAPTER XLV.
CHAPTER XLV.
Dick recognised him instantly, and scented danger. The man who peered up at him, with all the leering muscles of his face at work, was the man of whom he had bought the rope and grapnel. With assumed carelessness he said, "You'll know me when you see me again, old fellow." "Shouldn't wonder," said the old man. "My name's Higgins. What may your'n be?" Dick had not quite finished sticking the first bill. Whether from not being used to the business, or from inward perturbation, he was making rather
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CHAPTER XLVI.
CHAPTER XLVI.
The inquiry into the death of Mr. Samuel Boyd was resumed at the Coroner's Court in Bishop Street this morning before Mr. John Kent. Long before eleven o'clock the usual crowd of persons had gathered round the doors, but so numerous had been the application for seats from privileged and influential quarters that very few of the general public succeeded in gaining admittance. Intense as has been the interest evinced in this extraordinary case, the startling and unexpected revelations made by witn
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CHAPTER XLVII.
CHAPTER XLVII.
The public are by this time acquainted with much of the evidence Mrs. Death had to offer. After narrating the circumstances of her husband's dismissal from the service of Mr. Samuel Boyd, and of his going late at night to Mr. Boyd's house in Catchpole Square to beg to be taken back, the examination proceeded as follows: "What salary did your husband receive from Mr. Boyd?" "Twenty-two shillings a-week, with deductions for imaginary faults." "Did he work long hours?" "From nine in the morning til
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CHAPTER XLVIII.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
"We have now," said the Coroner, addressing the jury, "arrived at the end of the inquiry, so far as the examination of witnesses is concerned, and the duty devolves upon you of carefully considering the evidence, and of giving your verdict. At the opening of this inquiry I made a strong appeal to you to keep an open mind, and not to be influenced by the rumours and theories which have been freely broached by press and public. It is in this way that the interests of justice will be best served. T
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CHAPTER XLIX.
CHAPTER XLIX.
While her mother was being examined in the Coroner's Court, little Gracie Death, glowing with gratitude to Aunt Rob and her family, and solemnly impressed with a sense of the importance of the task she had undertaken, set out on the trail of Dr. Vinsen. She clearly understood that she was serving Dick's friends as well as Dick himself, but it was of Dick she thought most, and it was him she most ardently wished to serve. The attachments formed by children, and the ideals they create, are often s
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CHAPTER L.
CHAPTER L.
At Charing Cross Dr. Vinsen alighted, and Gracie descended from the roof in the manner generally adopted by females, with her back instead of her face to the horses, which is by far the more dangerous way of the two to climb down from an omnibus. But, Gracie being a girl of unusual sharpness and penetration, it may be that she got down that way for the purpose of keeping her eye upon Dr. Vinsen, and if this were so she was quite successful, for she did not lose sight of him for a single moment,
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CHAPTER LI.
CHAPTER LI.
"The Little Busy Bee" and the other evening papers were kept very busy that afternoon. So far as the examination of the witnesses and the Coroner's address were concerned, the inquest was over, and it had been expected that the verdict would soon be delivered; but although the jury had been deliberating (some persons declared squabbling) since three o'clock, and it was now past five, no verdict was yet returned. It was rumoured that there was a serious difference of opinion between them on more
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CHAPTER LII.
CHAPTER LII.
"A moment, Reginald," said Uncle Rob, in a low tone, laying his hand on the young man's arm. As the men fell back a pace or two they came face to face with Mrs. Death. In his heart Reginald believed Abel Death to be innocent, and even in the midst of his own trouble he would have addressed a word of comfort to her, but she, distracted by grief and indignant horror, held up her hands as if to ward him off, and brushed past him into the open. She had been present during the whole of the inquest, b
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CHAPTER LIII.
CHAPTER LIII.
"Any news, Gracie," asked Dick. "Lots," replied Gracie. "About which one?" "Both of 'em." Aunt Rob, with an air of determination, seized Gracie's hand. "Come in, child, and tell us all about it," she said. Gracie made no resistance, but looked at Dick for instructions. "The fact is, aunt," he said, "Gracie and I have started on a voyage of discovery, and this is a little matter of business between us." "The fact is," said Aunt Rob, sternly, "that there's been too many little matters of business
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CHAPTER LIV.
CHAPTER LIV.
The intense interest taken by the public in the progress of the mystery of Catchpole Square was markedly shown this morning by the enormous concourse of people assembled in the vicinity of the Bishop Street Police Court, where Mr. Reginald Boyd was brought before the magistrate, charged with the murder of his father, Mr. Samuel Boyd, on the night of Friday, the 1st of March. In these times of fever and unrest, when scarcely a day passes without some new sensation cropping up to overshadow the se
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CHAPTER LV.
CHAPTER LV.
A man may be an easy-going man all his life, and go down to his grave without anything occurring to take him, as it were, out of himself, or to make him, either suddenly or by gradual stages, a different being from that which those most intimate with him believe him to be. We have seen this exemplified in Dick Remington, who, from an easy-going, irresponsible being, with no definite or serious aim in life, and with an apparently conspicuous lack of industry and application, has suddenly become a
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CHAPTER LVI.
CHAPTER LVI.
Thursday, March 15th , 1896. Arrested Mr. Reginald Boyd this evening for the murder of his father, Mr. Samuel Boyd, of Catchpole Square. Arrest made at the door of the Coroner's Court. Had a little scene with Mr. Rawdon, the juryman who has been making all this fuss during the inquiry. Mr. Reginald Boyd bore his arrest very well. So did his good little wife, who agreeably disappointed my expectation that she would break down. So did not Mrs. Inspector Robson, a brick of a woman, who showed me ve
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CHAPTER LVII.
CHAPTER LVII.
On Monday morning Detective Lambert, as recorded in his diary, received Joseph Pitou's letter from Milan--this time written in French, which, being duly translated by Mrs. Lambert, caused the English detective profound astonishment and delight. It was in keeping with the literary methods he pursued that he did not insert the letter in his diary, and gave no intelligible account of its contents. Neither would it have been in accordance with his methods to have omitted mysterious reference to it:
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CHAPTER LVIII.
CHAPTER LVIII.
While Detective Lambert was making these entries, events of which he had no suspicion were progressing in another quarter. Some premonition of startling incidents soon to happen must have been very strong within him, or he would not have been out of bed a couple of hours after midnight, prowling, in a safe disguise, in the vicinity of Catchpole Square and Shore Street. Constable Applebee came across him twice without recognising him, although Lambert gave him every opportunity, asking him on bot
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CHAPTER LIX.
CHAPTER LIX.
Constable Applebee, seeking shelter from the storm beneath the roof of Deadman's Court, kept his face and his thoughts in the direction of Samuel Boyd's house, for such complete possession had the mystery taken of him that lightning, wind, and rain were powerless to drive it from his mind. Besides which, as he afterwards informed his wife, he had a presentiment that "something was going to happen." The latest flash of lightning caused him to clap his hand instinctively upon his eyes; the crash o
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CHAPTER LX.
CHAPTER LX.
Tuesday, March 19th , 1896. "Dick Remington brought before the magistrate this morning. Court crowded, proceedings very brief. Formal evidence of the arrest only was given, and Dick remanded till Friday, when he and Reginald Boyd will be brought up together. Mr. Pallaret was in court, and made a point of insisting that the case shall be fully gone into on Friday. He is hurrying the prosecution on, and doesn't intend to allow it to lag. Am not sure whether it is quite wise of him, but I could no
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CHAPTER LXI.
CHAPTER LXI.
In view of the surprising turn the Mystery of Catchpole Square has taken, considerable interest was manifested in the proceedings at the Coroner's Court this morning, a large share of public attention being bestowed upon the juror who has taken so prominent a part in the inquiry. All the jurymen were in attendance at the appointed hour, and the Coroner, in a brief address, expressed the hope that a sensible and just verdict would now be returned. He would make no comment, he said, upon the singu
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CHAPTER LXII.
CHAPTER LXII.
There was an unusual bustle in the Bishop Street Police Court on Friday morning, every person who could gain admittance and every person in the crowds outside being on the tiptoe of expectation. Mr. Mallandaine, the magistrate, was in attendance early, and half-a-dozen minor cases of drunkenness were disposed of by eleven o'clock, before which time every seat was occupied, and there was not a vacant inch of standing room. If there had been any intention on the part of Dr. Pye and Mr. Ezra Lynn n
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CHAPTER LXIII.
CHAPTER LXIII.
"His outer garments were such as a Mongolian wears, and in his hand was the mask of a Chinaman's face. He carried also in his hand a hollow cane of the reign of Charles the Second, in which, as you will presently hear, a singular discovery was made. It is not for me to say why this disguise was assumed; it is sufficient to state the fact. In response to Constable Applebee's calls for assistance Detective Lambert came up, and afterwards Constable Pond and another. The prisoner gave no explanation
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CHAPTER LXIV.
CHAPTER LXIV.
"What is your name and calling?" "I am of the Criminal Investigation Department in Paris. Joseph Pitou, a name well known." "We are familiar with it in England. You have come to London on special business?" "In association with my esteemed confrère , Monsieur Lambert, I have come to make the arrest of a notorious criminal." "You speak excellent English?" "You are pleased to say so. It is to me as my mother tongue; as is also Italian, German, and various dialects of the Turkish and Polish languag
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CHAPTER LXV.
CHAPTER LXV.
"The sensational incidents in the Bishop Street Police Court to-day, where two innocent men were charged with the murder of Samuel Boyd of Catchpole Square, were in keeping with the startling developments of this monstrous crime which we have recorded from day to day. A full report of the proceedings appears in our columns, and we challenge the masters of sensational fiction to produce a story so remarkable and extraordinary. Writing at high pressure, we have neither the time nor the space for a
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CHAPTER LXVI.
CHAPTER LXVI.
There was joy almost too great for utterance in two London homes that night. After partaking of a wonderful meal provided by Lady Wharton, Gracie's little brothers and sisters had the treat of sitting up late to look at father, who, weak as he was, would not go to bed, but reclined in an armchair lent by a sympathising neighbour--ah, how sweet and beautiful is the kindness of the poor to the poor!--and with Gracie's hand in his, gazed with gratitude upon the dear ones to whom he had been almost
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