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who will forgive a man for being rich if he throws away money
on hospitals or horses. Last-Trick Todd has made himself big
by his own considerable abilities; and there's no doubt that
many of those on whom he has shown his abilities would like to
show theirs on him with a shot-gun. Todd might easily get dropped
by some man he'd never even heard of; some labourer he'd locked out,
or some clerk in a business he'd busted. Last-Trick is a man
of mental endowments and a high public character; but in this country
the relations of employers and employed are considerably strained.
"That's how the whole thing looks supposing this Rian
made for Pilgrim's Pond to kill Todd. So it looked to me,
till another little discovery woke up what I have of the detective in me.
When I had my prisoner safe, I picked up my cane again and strolled down
the two or three turns of country road that brought me to one of
the side entrances of Todd's grounds, the one nearest to the pool
or lake after which the place is named. It was some two hours ago,
about seven by this time; the moonlight was more luminous,
and I could see the long white streaks of it lying on the mysterious mere
with its grey, greasy, half-liquid shores in which they say
our fathers used to make witches walk until they sank.
I'd forgotten the exact tale; but you know the place I mean;
it lies north of Todd's house towards the wilderness, and has two queer
wrinkled trees, so dismal that they look more like huge fungoids
than decent foliage. As I stood peering at this misty pool,
I fancied I saw the faint figure of a man moving from the house towards it,
but it was all too dim and distant for one to be certain of the fact,
and still less of the details. Besides, my attention was very sharply
arrested by something much closer. I crouched behind the fence
which ran not more than two hundred yards from one wing of
the great mansion, and which was fortunately split in places,
as if specially for the application of a cautious eye. A door had opened
in the dark bulk of the left wing, and a figure appeared black against
the illuminated interior--a muffled figure bending forward,
evidently peering out into the night. It closed the door behind it,
and I saw it was carrying a lantern, which threw a patch of imperfect light
on the dress and figure of the wearer. It seemed to be
the figure of a woman, wrapped up in a ragged cloak and
evidently disguised to avoid notice; there was something very strange
both about the rags and the furtiveness in a person coming out of
those rooms lined with gold. She took cautiously the curved garden path
which brought her within half a hundred yards of me--, then she stood up
for an instant on the terrace of turf that looks towards the slimy lake,
and holding her flaming lantern above her head she deliberately swung it
three times to and fro as for a signal. As she swung it the second time
a flicker of its light fell for a moment on her own face,
a face that I knew. She was unnaturally pale, and her head was bundled
in her borrowed plebeian shawl; but I am certain it was Etta Todd,
the millionaire's daughter.
"She retraced her steps in equal secrecy and the door
closed behind her again. I was about to climb the fence and follow,
when I realized that the detective fever that had lured me
into the adventure was rather undignified; and that in a more
authoritative capacity I already held all the cards in my hand.
I was just turning away when a new noise broke on the night.
A window was thrown up in one of the upper floors, but just round
the corner of the house so that I could not see it; and a voice
of terrible distinctness was heard shouting across the dark garden
to know where Lord Falconroy was, for he was missing from every room
in the house. There was no mistaking that voice. I have
heard it on many a political platform or meeting of directors;
it was Ireton Todd himself. Some of the others seemed to have gone
to the lower windows or on to the steps, and were calling up to him
that Falconroy had gone for a stroll down to the Pilgrim's Pond
an hour before, and could not be traced since. Then Todd cried
`Mighty Murder!' and shut down the window violently; and I could hear him
plunging down the stairs inside. Repossessing myself of my former
and wiser purpose, I whipped out of the way of the general search
that must follow; and returned here not later than eight o'clock.
"I now ask you to recall that little Society paragraph
which seemed to you so painfully lacking in interest. If the convict
was not keeping the shot for Todd, as he evidently wasn't,
it is most likely that he was keeping it for Lord Falconroy;
and it looks as if he had delivered the goods. No more handy place
to shoot a man than in the curious geological surroundings of that pool,
where a body thrown down would sink through thick slime to a depth
practically unknown. Let us suppose, then, that our friend
with the cropped hair came to kill Falconroy and not Todd.
But, as I have pointed out, there are many reasons why people in America
might want to kill Todd. There is no reason why anybody in America
should want to kill an English lord newly landed, except for the one reason
mentioned in the pink paper--that the lord is paying his attentions [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]