"Suppose we present what evidence we have to-morrow, including, of course, the withdrawal of your original death certificate, Doctor Marcy."

"It may get me into all sorts of trouble," commented the doctor ruefully. "But there's nothing else to be done; I see that clearly. The bare thought that Francis Graeme, he of all men--sorry, Betty, my girl!

I dare say this is getting a bit too much for you."

My cousin Betty had broken down and was crying softly on Doctor Marcy's broad shoulder; he petted her and talked to her as though she had been a little child.

And so at last we parted for the night, Doctor Marcy taking up his quarters in an anteroom adjoining the sick chamber, and Betty deciding to seek companionship with Miss Trevor. I tumbled into bed at once, but it was many an hour before sleep came to me.

Chapter VI

"_Madame Colette Marinette._"

Dr. Marcy was the first person to join me in the breakfast room the following morning. To my surprise, he informed me that Mr. Fielding Thaneford had pa.s.sed a comfortable night and was better. "Of course I am speaking in comparative terms," he added. "The old man has had a stroke of apoplexy. He is partially paralyzed on the right side, and his power of speech is gone entirely. He cannot recover, but he may linger on for some time."

"A week?"

"Perhaps longer. It is impossible to say--and here comes John."

The younger Thaneford favored us with a short nod and an unintelligible word, and demanded of Effingham a full pot of coffee, strong and hot. I made some obligatory enquiries, in my capacity of host, but my unwelcome guest gave me only the curtest of replies. Nevertheless I felt sufficiently large-minded to make allowances. After all, the man had received two pretty severe blows, in the loss of his inheritance and in the strickening of his father; and it could not be pleasant for him to be accepting my hospitality.

Doctor Marcy waited until Thaneford had finished his breakfast; then he bluntly asked for the holding of an inquest on Francis Graeme's death.

"I formally withdraw the medical certificate," he continued, "on the ground that new evidence has come to light."

"What new evidence?" inquired John Thaneford, his beetling eyebrows contracting angrily.

"I'll submit it to your jury," retorted the doctor.

There was no further discussion of the main point. Legally it was for Thaneford alone to decide upon the necessity for an inquest, and for a moment or two I thought he looked disinclined to give in. Then, apparently, he changed his mind. "You don't seem to have much confidence in your own medical opinions," he said nastily. "But I'm as anxious as anybody to ferret out the truth behind this business. And possibly we may get some light upon the making of that remarkable will. I take it that Mr. Hugh Hildebrand will offer no objection." I made no answer to the taunt, and Thaneford went to the telephone to call his jurors together.

It was not until two days later that the members of the jury were finally a.s.sembled at the "Hundred." Two of them were neighboring farmers; there were also a couple of small business men from Calverton.

The fifth man was a Mr. Chalmers Warriner, a chemist and the head of the experimental department of the Severn Optical Gla.s.s Works; and, greatly to my surprise, I was ordered by the coroner to take the sixth and last place in the panel. All of my a.s.sociates had known Francis Graeme personally, and it was apparent that the unusual circ.u.mstance of the holding of the inquest after the interment had aroused curiosity and no small amount of speculation.

By direction of the coroner the body had been exhumed and an autopsy performed. The expert examination had been made by Dr. Clayton Williams of the Johns Hopkins Medical School, and he was the first witness called.

Doctor Williams told the jury that while the wound on the temple might have been sufficient to cause death still he was not prepared to p.r.o.nounce positively upon the point. In answer to a question from Professor Warriner, Doctor Williams went on to say that the autopsy had revealed a very peculiar condition of the brain--a lesion of most unusual character.

"Not necessarily caused by the blow on the temple?" asked Warriner.

"I do not think so," answered the witness.

"Can you a.s.sign a cause?"

"I have never seen anything quite like it, Mr. Warriner. In consequence, I haven't any theory of causation to advance."

"But you must have come to some conclusions," persisted Warriner.

"All I can say is that the degenerative process observed by me resembled that induced by sunstroke, but on a greatly intensified scale. It is possible, of course, that Mr. Graeme may have had some obscure brain disease, and that it had progressed to a critical stage quite unsuspected by himself, or even by his medical advisers."

"You mean," continued Warriner, "that the deceased may have had a sudden seizure, resulting in his falling from his chair and striking his head upon the corner of that iron despatch-box placed in evidence by Doctor Marcy?"

"It is possible."

"Then it is a perfectly plain case?"

"I'm not so sure about that," returned Doctor Williams. "The brain lesion may have killed him before he fell; the superficial injury may have no importance whatever. Or the wound may have been caused by a weapon in the hands of another person."

"But there is no question of another person," put in John Thaneford.

There was nothing more of a tangible character to be obtained from the testimony of the medical gentlemen; for Doctor Marcy could only reiterate his belief that Francis Graeme had appeared to be in perfect health on that fatal morning. Of course there had been no opportunity for the usual laboratory tests, but his physical condition could not have been precarious; that was unthinkable. There were just two factors in evidence--the internal lesion and the external injury. Which was the predetermining cause, and which was the final effect? Or was it that neither fact had any real relation to the death of Francis Graeme? No one could say, and Doctor Williams was finally permitted to retire. I fancied that the saturnine countenance of Coroner Thaneford showed a secret satisfaction in the apparent confusion of testimony.

The customary depositions were taken from the house servants, but they added little or nothing to our stock of knowledge. Effingham, the butler, was asked to explain his five minutes' absence from sentry duty at the library door while Doctor Marcy was engaged in meeting Miss Graeme. He answered very simply that Miss Eunice Trevor had sent him to her dressing-room for smelling-salts and a bottle of aromatic spirits of ammonia. When questioned about the master-key he declared that no one knew of its hiding place behind the clock in the pantry; he did not believe that it had been touched until he had taken it himself, shortly before two o'clock, for the purpose of unlocking the library door.

Finally Doctor Marcy told the jury of the peculiar circ.u.mstances concerning the iron despatch-box. But he could not positively affirm that the box was not in the room when he first examined the body; he was obliged to admit that he might have merely overlooked its presence.

John Thaneford turned to the jury. "Is there any use in going on with the inquiry?" he asked. "I don't believe we can do more than return a non-committal verdict--dead by the visitation of G.o.d, or something like that."

"Or alternatively, by the act of party or parties unknown," interpolated Warriner.

"Don't see why you should say that," retorted Thaneford, scowling darkly.

"Well, Doctor Marcy has pointed out the unexplained disappearance of the iron despatch-box; I mean between his first and second visit to the room. I think we ought to make sure that no other person entered the library in the interim, or had the opportunity and means to do so."

"Just what do you want?" demanded Thaneford truculently.

"Let's have Effingham back again," said Warriner calmly. "I want to ask some questions that I didn't think of before."

There could be no valid objection to this procedure; and, accordingly, the coroner directed that the negro butler should be recalled.

While we were waiting Warriner had risen and was walking about the room, examining its details with profound attention. He was particular in a.s.suring himself that the main windows could not be opened, and that the apertures provided by the swinging of the pridellas on their pivots were impracticable to anyone except a really small boy. When Effingham reappeared Warriner took the examination into his own hands.

"Now, Effingham," he began, "I want to know everything about this room.

Are there any traps leading to the cellar, any scuttle-panels in the dome?"

"Nossir. It am tight all roun'--like um bottle. Doan know nuffin' 'bout traps and scuttles."

"Undoubtedly correct," commented Warriner, looking around at us. "I have tested the floor pretty thoroughly, and it is solid everywhere. The same, I think, may be said of the dome and ceiling--not the sign of a crack or jointure." He turned savagely on Effingham. "Now tell me, you black scoundrel, where the secret door is?"

Effingham's countenance of shining ebony took on the ashy tinge peculiar to his race under the emotional stress of fright or duress. "Nebber heard of 'im," he said quickly, and relapsed into wary silence.

"You know me," continued Warriner, "and what I can put on you if you don't obey me and answer my questions. Where is it?"

Effingham's knees shook in visible terror. Professor Warriner enjoyed a wide reputation among the colored folk as a dealer in "cunjers" and other forbidden arts; was not his physical laboratory the veritable anteroom to the infernal regions. The old negro, torn between superst.i.tious fears and his inherited sense of loyalty to the Hildebrand family, trembled and gasped as he tried to face his terrible inquisitor. "Whuffer you pick on ole Effingham?" he protested feebly. "I doan know nuffin 'bout any secret doah."

"Do what the gentleman tells you, Effingham." The voice was quiet and controlled, and yet there was an undertone of emotional vibration in it; I turned and saw Miss Trevor, who had entered the room unbidden and unannounced. I thought that John Thaneford looked both angry and dismayed, but he did not attempt to exercise his official authority.