The Golden Slipper Part 31

The conversation which immediately began was brilliant but desultory, for Mr. Smithers, with an airy lightness for which he is remarkable, introduced topic after topic, perhaps for the purpose of showing off Mr.

T-'s versatility, and perhaps for the deeper and more sinister purpose of shaking the kaleidoscope of talk so thoroughly, that the real topic which we were met to discuss should not make an undue impression on the mind of his guest.

Meanwhile one, two, three bottles pa.s.sed, and I had the pleasure of seeing Joe Smithers's eye grow calmer and that of Mr. T---- more brilliant and more uncertain. As the last bottle was being pa.s.sed, Joe cast me a meaning glance, and the real business of the evening began.

I shall not attempt to relate the half dozen failures which Joe made in endeavouring to elicit the facts we were in search of, without arousing the suspicion of his visitor. I am only going to relate the successful attempt. They had been talking now for some hours, and I, who had long before been waved aside from their immediate presence, was hiding my curiosity and growing excitement behind one of the pictures, when I suddenly heard Joe say:

"He has the most remarkable memory I ever met. He can tell to a day when any notable event occurred."

"Pshaw!" answered his companion, who, by the way, was known to pride himself upon his own memory for dates, "I can state where I went and what I did on every day in the year. That may not embrace what you call 'notable events,' but the memory required is all the more remarkable, is it not?"

"Pooh!" was his friend's provoking reply, "you are bluffing, Ben; I will never believe that."

Mr. T-, who had pa.s.sed by this time into that stage of intoxication which makes persistence in an a.s.sertion a duty as well as a pleasure, threw back his head, and as the wreaths of smoke rose in airy spirals from his lips, reiterated his statement, and offered to submit to any test of his vaunted powers which the other might dictate.

"You keep a diary--" began Joe.

"Which at the present moment is at home," completed the other.

"Will you allow me to refer to it tomorrow, if I am suspicious of the accuracy of your recollections?"

"Undoubtedly," returned the other.

"Very well, then, I will wager you a cool fifty that you cannot tell where you were between the hours of ten and eleven on a certain night which I will name."

"Done!" cried the other, bringing out his pocket-book and laying it on the table before him.

Joe followed his example and then summoned me.

"Write a date down here," he commanded, pus.h.i.+ng a piece of paper towards me, with a look keen as the flash of a blade. "Any date, man," he added, as I appeared to hesitate in the embarra.s.sment I thought natural under the circ.u.mstances. "Put down day, month, and year, only don't go too far back; not farther than two years."

Smiling with the air of a flunkey admitted to the sports of his superiors, I wrote a line and laid it before Mr. Smithers, who at once pushed it with a careless gesture towards his companion. You can of course guess the date I made use of: July 17, 19--. Mr. T--, who had evidently looked upon this matter as mere play, flushed scarlet as he read these words, and for one instant looked as if he had rather fly the house than answer Joe Smithers's nonchalant glance of inquiry.

"I have given my word and will keep it," he said at last, but with a look in my direction that sent me reluctantly back to my retreat. "I don't suppose you want names," he went on; "that is, if anything I have to tell is of a delicate nature?"

"Oh, no," answered the other, "only facts and places."

"I don't think places are necessary either," he returned. "I will tell you what I did and that must serve you. I did not promise to give number and street."

"Well, well," Joe exclaimed; "earn your fifty, that is all. Show that you remember where you were on the night of"--and with an admirable show of indifference he pretended to consult the paper between them--"the seventeenth of July, two years ago, and I shall be satisfied."

"I was at the club for one thing," said Mr. T-; "then I went to see a lady friend, where I stayed until eleven. She wore a blue muslin--What is that?"

I had betrayed myself by a quick movement which sent a gla.s.s tumbler cras.h.i.+ng to the floor. Zulma Zabriskie had worn a blue muslin on that same night. You will find it noted in the report given me by the policeman who saw her on their balcony.

"That noise?" It was Joe who was speaking. "You don't know Reuben as well as I do or you wouldn't ask. It is his practice, I am sorry to say, to accentuate his pleasure in draining my bottles by dropping a gla.s.s at every third one."

Mr. T---- went on.

"She was a married woman and I thought she loved me; but--and this is the greatest proof I can offer you that I am giving you a true account of that night--she had not the slightest idea of the extent of my pa.s.sion, and only consented to see me at all because she thought, poor thing, that a word from her would set me straight, and rid her of attentions she evidently failed to appreciate. A sorry figure for a fellow like me to cut; but you caught me on the most detestable date in my calendar and--"

There he ceased being interesting and I anxious. The secret of a crime for which there seemed to be no reasonable explanation is no longer a mystery to me. I have but to warn Miss Strange--

He had got thus far when a sound in the room behind him led him to look up. A lady had entered; a lady heavily veiled and trembling with what appeared to be an intense excitement.

He thought he knew the figure, but the person, whoever it was, stood so still and remained so silent, he hesitated to address her; which seeing, she pushed up her veil and all doubt vanished.

It was Violet herself. In disregard of her usual practice she had come alone to the office. This meant urgency of some kind. Had she too sounded this mystery? No, or her aspect would not have worn this look of triumph. What had happened then? He made an instant endeavour to find out.

"You have news," he quietly remarked. "Good news, I should judge, by your very cheery smile."

"Yes; I think I have found the way of bringing Dr. Zabriskie to himself."

Astonished beyond measure, so little did these words harmonize with the impressions and conclusions at which he had just arrived, something very like doubt spoke in his voice as he answered with the simple exclamation:

"You do!"

"Yes. He is obsessed by a fixed idea, and must be given an opportunity to test the truth of that idea. The shock of finding it a false one may restore him to his normal condition. He believes that he shot Mr.

Hasbrouck with no other guidance than his sense of hearing. Now if it can be proved that his hearing is an insufficient guide for such an act (as of course it is) the shock of the discovery may clear his brain of its cobwebs. Mrs. Zabriskie thinks so, and the police--"

"What's that? The police?"

"Yes, Dr. Zabriskie would be taken before them again this morning. No entreaties on the part of his wife would prevail; he insisted upon his guilt and asked her to accompany him there; and the poor woman found herself forced to go. Of course he encountered again the same division of opinion among the men he talked with. Three out of the four judged him insane, which observing, he betrayed great agitation and reiterated his former wish to be allowed an opportunity to prove his sanity by showing his skill in shooting. This made an impression; and a disposition was shown to grant his request then and there. But Mrs.

Zabriskie would not listen to this. She approved of the experiment but begged that it might be deferred till another day and then take place in some spot remote from the city. For some reason they heeded her, and she has just telephoned me that this attempt of his is to take place tomorrow in the New Jersey woods. I am sorry that this should have been put through without you; and when I tell you that the idea originated with me--that from some word I purposely let fall one day, they both conceived this plan of ending the uncertainty that was devouring their lives, you will understand my excitement and the need I have of your support. Tell me that I have done well. Do not show me such a face--you frighten me--"

"I do not wish to frighten you. I merely wish to know just who are going on this expedition."

"Some members of the police, Dr. Zabriskie, his wife, and--and myself.

She begged--"

"You must not go."

"Why? The affair is to be kept secret. The doctor will shoot, fail--Oh!"

she suddenly broke in, alarmed by his expression, "you think he will not fail--"

"I think that you had better heed my advice and stay out of it. The affair is now in the hands of the police, and your place is anywhere but where they are."

"But I go as her particular friend. They have given her the privilege of taking with her one of her own s.e.x and she has chosen me. I shall not fail her. Father is away, and if the awful disappointment you suggest awaits her, there is all the more reason why she should have some sympathetic support?"

This was so true, that the fresh protest he was about to utter died on his lips. Instead, he simply remarked as he bowed her out:

"I foresee that we shall not work much longer together. You are nearing the end of your endurance."

He never forgot the smile she threw back at him.

V

There are some events which impress the human mind so deeply that their memory mingles with all after-experiences. Though Violet had made it a rule to forget as soon as possible the tragic episodes incident to the strange career upon which she had so mysteriously embarked, there was destined to be one scene, if not more, which she has never been able to dismiss at will.