the filigree ball-第6部分

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of　my　own　image　in　the　mirror　I　chanced　to　pass；　a　power　to　shock　my
nerves　which　has　never　been　repeated　in　my　experience。

It　may　seem　both　unnecessary　and　out　of　character　for　a　man　of　my
calling　to　acknowledge　these　chance　sensations；　but　only　by　doing　so
can　I　account　for　the　minutes　which　elapsed　before　I　summoned
sufficient　self…possession　to　draw　aside　the　closed　curtains　of　the
bed　and　take　the　quick　look　inside　which　my　present　doubtful　position
demanded。　　But　once　I　had　broken　the　spell　and　taken　the　look　just
mentioned；　I　found　my　manhood　return　and　with　it　my　old　ardor　for
clues。　　The　bed　held　no　gaping；　chattering　criminal；　yet　was　it　not
quite　empty。　　Something　lay　there；　and　this　something；　while
commonplace　in　itself；　was　enough　out　of　keeping　with　the　place　and
hour　to　rouse　my　interest　and　awaken　my　conjectures。　　It　was　a　lady's
wrap　so　rich　in　quality　and　of　such　a　festive　appearance　that　it　was
astonishing　to　find　it　lying　in　a　neglected　state　in　this　crumbling
old　house。　　Though　I　know　little　of　the　cost　of　women's　garments；　I
do　know　the　value　of　lace；　and　this　garment　was　covered　with　it。

Interesting　as　was　this　find；　it　was　followed　by　one　still　more　so。
Nestled　in　the　folds　of　the　cloak；　lay　the　withered　remains　of　what
could　only　have　been　the　bridal　bouquet。　　Unsightly　now　and
scentless；　it　was　once　a　beautiful　specimen　of　the　florist's　art。
As　I　noted　how　the　main　bunch　of　roses　and　lilies　was　connected　by
long　satin　ribbons　to　the　lesser　clusters　which　hung　from　it；　I
recalled　with　conceivable　horror　the　use　to　which　a　similar　ribbon
had　been　put　in　the　room　below。　　In　the　shudder　called　up　by　this
coincidence　I　forgot　to　speculate　how　a　bouquet　carried　by　the
bride　could　have　found　its　way　back　to　this　upstairs　room　when；　as
all　accounts　agree；　she　had　fled　from　the　parlor　below　without
speaking　or　staying　foot　the　moment　she　was　told　of　the　catastrophe
which　had　taken　place　in　the　library。　　That　her　wrap　should　be　lying
here　was　not　strange；　but　that　the　wedding　bouquet　…

That　it　really　was　the　wedding　bouquet　and　that　this　was　the　room
in　which　the　bride　had　dressed　for　the　ceremony　was　apparent　to　the
most　casual　observer。　　But　it　became　an　established　fact　when　in　my
further　course　about　the　room　I　chanced　on　a　handkerchief　with　the
name　Veronica　embroidered　in　one　corner。

This　handkerchief　had　an　interest　apart　from　the　name　on　it。　　It　was
of　dainty　texture　and　quite　in　keeping；　so　far　as　value　went；　with
the　other　belongings　of　its　fastidious　owner。　　But　it　was　not　clean。
Indeed　it　was　strangely　soiled；　and　this　soil　was　of　a　nature　I　did
not　readily　understand。　　A　woman　would　doubtless　have　comprehended
immediately　the　cause　of　the　brown　streaks　I　found　on　it；　but　it　took
me　several　minutes　to　realize　that　this　bit　of　cambric；　delicate　as
a　cobweb；　had　been　used　to　remove　dust。　　To　remove　dust！　　Dust　from
what？　　From　the　mantel…shelf　probably；　upon　one　end　of　which　I　found
it。　　But　no！　　one　look　along　the　polished　boards　convinced　me　that
whatever　else　had　been　dusted　in　this　room　this　shelf　had　not。　　The
accumulation　of　days；　if　not　of　months；　was　visible　from　one　end　to
the　other　of　its　unrelieved　surface　save　where　the　handkerchief　had
lain；　and　…　the　greatest　discovery　yet　…　where　five　clear　spots　just
to　the　left　of　the　center　showed　where　some　man's　finger…tips　had
rested。　　Nothing　but　the　pressure　of　fingertips　could　have　caused
just　the　appearance　presented　by　these　spots。　　By　scrutinizing　them
closely　I　could　even　tell　where　the　thumb　had　rested；　and　at　once
foresaw　the　possibility　of　determining　by　means　of　these　marks　both
the　size　and　shape　of　the　hand　which　had　left　behind　it　so　neat　and
unmistakable　a　clue。

Wonderful！　　but　what　did　it　all　mean？　　Why　should　a　man　rest　his
finger…tips　on　this　out…of…the…way　shelf　？　　Had　he　done　so　in　an
effort　to　balance　himself　for　a　look　up　the　chimney？　　No；　for　then
the　marks　made　by　his　fingers　would　have　extended　to　the　edge　of　the
shelf；　whereas　these　were　in　the　middle　of　it。　　Their　shape；　too；
was　round；　not　oblong；　hence；　the　pressure　had　come　from　above　and　…
ah！　　I　had　it；　these　impressions　in　the　dust　of　the　shelf　were　just
such　as　would　be　made　by　a　person　steadying　himself　for　a　close　look
at　the　old　picture。　　And　this　accounted　also　for　the　overturned
chair；　and　for　the　handkerchief　used　as　a　duster。　　Some　one's
interest　in　this　picture　had　been　greater　than　mine；　some　one　who
was　either　very　near…sighted　or　whose　temperament　was　such　that　only
the　closest　inspection　would　satisfy　an　aroused　curiosity。

This　gave　me　an　idea；　or　rather　impressed　upon　me　the　necessity　of
preserving　the　outline　of　these　tell…tale　marks　while　they　were
still　plain　to　the　eye。　　Taking　out　my　penknife；　I　lightly　ran　the
point　of　my　sharpest　blade　around　each　separate　impression　till　I
had　fixed　them　for　all　time　in　the　well　worn　varnish　of　the　mahogany。

This　done；　my　thoughts　recurred　to　the　question　already　raised。　　What
was　there　in　this　old　picture　to　arouse　such　curiosity　in　one　bent　on
evil　if　not　fresh　from　a　hideous　crime？　　I　have　said　before　that　the
picture　as　a　picture　was　worthless；　a　mere　faded　sketch　fit　only　for
lumbering　up　some　old　garret。　　Then　wherein　lay　its　charm；　…　a　charm
which　I　myself　had　felt；　though　not　to　this　extent？　　It　was　useless
to　conjecture。　　A　fresh　difficulty　had　been　added　to　my　task　by　this
puzzling　discovery；　but　difficulties　only　increased　my　interest。　　It
was　with　an　odd　feeling　of　elation　that；　in　a　further　examination　of
this　room；　I　came　upon　two　additional　facts　equally　odd　and
irreconcilable。

One　was　the　presence　of　a　penknife　with　the　file　blade　open；　on　a
small　table　under　the　window　marked　by　the　loosened　shutter。
Scattered　about　it　were　some　filings　which　shone　as　the　light　from
my　lantern　fell　upon　them；　but　which　were　so　fine　as　to　call　for　a
magnifying…glass　to　make　them　out。　　The　other　was　in　connection　with
a　closet　not　far　from　the　great　bed。　　It　was　an　empty　closet　so　far
as　the　hooks　went　and　the　two　great　drawers　which　I　found　standing
half　open　at　its　back；　but　in　the　middle　of　the　floor　lay　an
overturned　candelabrum　similar　to　the　one　below；　but　with　its　prisms
scattered　and　its　one　candle　crushed　and　battered　out　of　all　shape
on　the　blackened　boards。　　If　upset　while　alight；　the　foot　which　had
stamped　upon　it　in　a　wild　endeavor　to　put　out　the　flames　had　been　a
frenzied　one。　　Now；　by　whom　had　this　frenzy　been　shown；　and　when？
Within　the　hour？　　I　could　detect　no　smell　of　smoke。　　At　some　former
time；　then？　　say　on　the　day　of　the　bridal？

Glancing　from　the　broken　candle　at　my　feet　to　the　one　giving　its　last
sputter　in　the　tumbler　on　the　dressing　table；　I　owned　myself　perplexed。

Surely；　no　ordinary　explanation　fitted　these　extraordinary　and
seemingly　contradictory　circumstances。




IV

SIGNED；　VERONICA


I　am　in　some　ways　hypersensitive。　　Among　my　other　weaknesses　I　have
a　wholesome　dread　of　ridicule；　and　this　is　probably　why　I　failed　to
press　my　theory　on　the　captain　when　he　appeared；　and　even　forbore
to　mention　the　various　small　matters　which　had　so　attracted　my
attention。　　If　he　and　the　experienced　men　who　came　with　him　saw
suicide　and　nothing　but　suicide　in　this　lamentable　shooting　of　a
bride　of　two　weeks；　then　it　was　not　for　me　to　suggest　a　deeper
crime；　especially　as　one　of　the　latter　eyed　me　with　open　scorn　when
I　proposed　to　accompany　them　upstairs　into　the　room　where　the　light
had　been　seen　burning。　　No；　I　would　keep　my　discoveries　to　myself
or；　at　least；　forbear　to　mention　them　till　I　found　the　captain
alone；　asking　nothing　at　this　juncture　but　permission　to　remain　in
the　house　till　Mr。　Jeffrey　arrived。

I　had　been　told　that　an　officer　had　gone　for　this　gentleman；　and
when　I　heard　the　sound　of　wheels　in　front　I　made　a　rush　for　the
door；　in　my　anxiety　to　catch　a　glimpse　of　him。　　But　it　was　a　woman
who　alighted。

As　this　woman　was　in　a　state　of　great　agitation；　one　of　the　men
hastened　down　to　offer　his　arm。　　As　she　took　it；　I　asked　Hibbard；
who　had　suddenly　reappeared　upon　the　scene；　who　she　was。

He　said　that　she　was　probably　the　sister　of　the　woman　who　lay
inside。　　Upon　which　I　remembered　that　this　lady；　under　the　name　of
Miss　Tuttle　…　she　was　but　half…sister　to　Miss　Moore　…　had　been
repeatedly　mentioned　by　the　reporters；　in　the　accounts　of　the
wedding　before　mentioned；　as　a　person　of　superior　attainments　and
magnificent　beauty。

This　did　not　take　from　my　interest；　and　flinging　decorum　to　the
winds；　I　approached　as　near　as　possible　to　the　threshold　which　she
must　soon　cross。　　As　I　did　so　I　was　astonished　to　hear　the　strains
of　Uncle　David's　organ　still　pealing　from　the　opposite　side　of　the
way。　　This　at　a　moment　so　serious　and　while　matters　of　apparent
consequence　were　taking　place　in　the　house　to　which　he　had　himself
directed　the　attention　of　the　police；　struck　me　as　carrying　stoicism
to　the　extreme。　　Not　very　favorably　impressed　by　this　display　of
open　if　not　insulting　indifference　on　the　part　of　the　sole　remaining
Moore；　…　an　indifference　which　did　not　appear　quite　natural　even　in
a　man　of　his　morbid　eccentricity；　…　I　resolved　to　know　more　of　this
old　man　and；　above　all；　to　make　myself　fully　acquainted　with　the
exact　relations　which　had　existed　between　him　and　his　unhappy　niece。

Meanwhile　Miss　Tuttle　had　stepped　within　the　circle　of　light　cast
by　our　lanterns。

I　have　never　seen　a　finer　woman；　nor　one　whose　features　displayed
a　more　heart…rending　emotion。　　This　called　for　respect；　and　I；　for
one；　endeavored　to　show　it　by　withdrawing　into　the　background。　　But
I　soon　stepped　forward　again。　　My　desire　to　understand　her　was　too
great；　the　impression　made　by　her　bearing　too　complex；　to　be　passed
over　lightly　by　one　on　the　lookout　for　a　key　to　the　remarkable
tragedy　before　us。

Meanwhile　her　lips　had　opened　with　the　cry：

〃My　sister！　　Where　is　my　sister？〃

The　captain　made　a　hurried　movement　toward　the　rear　and　then　with
the　laudable　intention；　doubtless；　of　preparing　her　for　the　ghastly
sight　which　awaited　her；　returned　and　opened　a　way　for　her　into　the
drawing…room。　　But　she　was　not　to　be　turned　aside　from　her　co