II
THE TRAGEDY
It was perhaps half an hour later when I again opened my front door, tostart for my downtown office. Laura accompanied me into the hall, as sheoften does and chattered a few parting inanities as we stood by theelevator. The car was rising, and as we are only on the third floor Ihad a half-formed intention of walking down the stairs, when the door ofthe other apartment flew open and Miss Pembroke ran out to meet theelevator. She was greatly excited, but not with anger, for her face waswhite and her eyes looked big and frightened.
Surely the word _tumultuous_ applied to the girl now. But, it was plainto be seen that whatever caused her excitement it was something ofimportance. She had received a shock of some kind, and though she hadherself well in hand, yet she was fairly trembling with almostuncontrollable emotion. She paid not the slightest attention to Laura orme, but clutched at the coat of an elderly gentleman who stepped out ofthe elevator.
"Oh, Doctor Masterson," she cried, "come in quickly, and see what is thematter with Uncle Robert! He looks so strange, and I'm afraid he's----"
She seemed suddenly to realize our presence, or perhaps she noticed thestaring face of the elevator boy, for she left unfinished whatever shehad been about to say, and, still clutching the doctor's coat, urged himtoward her own door.
I did not presume to speak to Miss Pembroke, but I could not resist animpulse that made me say to the doctor: "If I can be of any assistance,pray call upon me."
There was no time for response--I was not even sure that the doctorheard me--but I turned back with Laura into our own apartment.
"Something has happened," I said to her, "and I think I'll wait a bit."
"Do," said my sister. "It may be that we can be of assistance to thatpoor girl; for if her uncle has a serious attack of any kind she willcertainly want help."
I looked at Laura with admiring affection, for I saw at once that shehad realized that Miss Pembroke was in serious trouble of some sort, andher true womanly heart went out to the girl, forgetting entirely herprevious dislike and suspicion.
Almost immediately our door-bell rang, and, feeling sure that it was asummons in response to my offer, I opened the door myself.
Sure enough, there stood the elderly doctor, looking very muchperturbed.
"You kindly offered your assistance, sir," he said, "or I should notintrude. I want immediate help. Mr. Pembroke is dead, Miss Pembroke hasfainted, and their servant is so nearly in hysterics that she is of nouse whatever."
Laura is always splendid in an emergency, so of course she rose to theoccasion at once.
"Let me go to Miss Pembroke," she said, in her quiet, capable way. "I'mMrs. Mulford, and this is my brother, Otis Landon. We are new-comershere, and do not know Miss Pembroke personally, but we are only too gladto do anything we can for her."
"Thank you," said the old gentleman, looking at Laura with an air ofapproval. "I'm Doctor Masterson, the Pembroke's family physician. I'mgreatly surprised at this sudden death. I'm surprised, too, that Janetshould faint away, for I have never known her to do such a thingbefore."
By this time we had all three crossed the hall, and were inside thePembrokes' door, which opened into a short cross hall. On the right wasthe drawing-room, and here we found Miss Pembroke, who had not yetregained consciousness. She lay on a couch, and as the doctor bent overher she gave a convulsive shudder, but did not open her eyes.
"She'll be all right in a moment," said Doctor Masterson. "Janet is aplucky girl, and sound as a nut. I'll leave her in your care, Mrs.Mulford."
Laura was already hovering over the girl, and, with her intuitivewomanliness, was doing exactly the right things.
The colored woman was crouched in a heap on the floor, and was rockingherself back and forth, with occasional wails.
"Stop that noise, Charlotte," commanded the doctor. "Don't make us anymore trouble than we already have."
The command was not heeded, but without further comment he turned awayfrom her, and as he beckoned to me I followed him from the room.
"I was at my wits' end," he exclaimed, "with those two women on myhands, and this dead man to look after!" As he spoke, we crossed theshort hall and entered what was apparently the old gentleman's bedroom.I gazed with interest at the face of Robert Pembroke, and, save for whatDoctor Masterson had told me, I should have thought I was looking at theface of a sleeping man. My first feeling was one of admiration, for thefeatures were of classic mould, and the white hair, thick and ratherlong, waved back from a noble brow.
"What a handsome man!" I exclaimed involuntarily.
"Did you know him?" asked Doctor Masterson, looking at me keenly.
"No," I replied; "I've never seen him before. I've lived in this housebut two weeks."
"Robert Pembroke was a handsome man," agreed the doctor, "but, with thebest intentions, and with all the respect due the dead, there is littleelse good to be said of him. But his sudden death puzzles me greatly. Ihave been his physician for many years, and I should have said that hehad not the least apoplectic tendency. Yet apoplexy must have caused hisdeath--at least, so far as I can judge without a more thoroughexamination."
As he spoke Doctor Masterson was examining the body, and his look ofbewilderment increased.
"He looks as if he were asleep," I said.
"That's just it," said the doctor. "There is no indication of aconvulsive struggle or a spasm of any kind. His limbs are quietlycomposed, even relaxed, as if he had died in his sleep; which is notquite indicative of a stroke of apoplexy."
"Heart disease?" I suggested.
"He had no valvular trouble of the heart," said the doctor, who wascontinuing his examination. "He had gout, indigestion, rheumatism, andmany ailments incidental to old age, but nothing organic, and I hadsupposed he would live many years longer to torment that poor girl inthere."
"He was irascible, I know," I responded, feeling that I ought to saysomething.
"Irascible faintly expresses it," declared the Doctor, in a low voice;"he was cruel, domineering, tyrannical and of a brutal temper."
"And he vented it on innocent Miss Pembroke?"
"Yes; he did, though Janet is no patient Griselda. She can hold her own!I've known her to----"
Doctor Masterson ceased talking as he went on with his investigation.
A dozen questions rose to my lips, but I refrained from uttering them.Miss Pembroke's affairs were none of my business; and, too, the doctorwas not definitely addressing me, but seemed rather to be talking tohimself.
"Here's a key," he said, holding toward me a small bright key; "justtake it for the moment, Mr. Landon, as it is doubtless an importantone."
"Where was it?" I asked.
"On the bed, by Mr. Pembroke's side. It had probably been under hispillow. It looks like the key of a safety box of some sort."
I put the key in my pocket, with a pleased thought that it would give mean opportunity to speak with Miss Pembroke. Meantime I noticed thatDoctor Masterson's attitude was becoming more and more that of a greatlyperplexed man.
"I don't understand it," he muttered. "A man can't die without a cause.And every known cause shows its own symptom. But I find no symptoms.What can this man have died of?"
"No foul play, I hope," I observed.
"No, no; nothing of that sort! Mr. Pembroke died peacefully in hissleep. But how?"
Suddenly he straightened himself up with an air of resolve.
"Is there a doctor living in this house?" he asked.
"Yes," I answered; "there is one on the first floor. Shall I fetch him?"
"Do," said the old man. "Tell him that Doctor Masterson wishes to callhim in consultation on a serious matter." I hastened on my errand,though not so rapidly as not to pause a moment to glance in at MissPembroke, who had recovered consciousness, and was lying quietly back onthe sofa pillows, while Laura bathed her forehead with cologne. I wellknew the soothing capabilities of Laura's finger-tips; and I also wasnot surprised to notice that the black girl had ce
ased her convulsiveshuddering, and, though still sitting on the floor, was gazing at Lauraas if fascinated.
All this I took in in a brief glance, and then ran hurriedly down thestairs in search of Doctor Post.
"Is this Doctor Post?" I asked as I entered his office.
"Yes," he replied, laying down the gloves and hat he held. Apparently,he was just about to go out, and I had fortunately arrived in time.
"Will you go up-stairs with me?" I went on. "Mr. Pembroke, on the thirdfloor, is dead; and his physician, Doctor Masterson, is at a loss todiscover the cause of his death. He sent me to ask you to join him inconsultation."
"Doctor Masterson!" exclaimed Doctor Post, and I saw at once that theyounger man was flattered at being called in consultation by the olderand celebrated practitioner. "He wants me?" he asked, as if scarcelyable to believe it.
"Yes; it is a peculiar case, and he asks your help. Will you go with meat once?"
"Certainly," and in another moment Doctor Post and I were in theelevator.
"Old Mr. Pembroke dead?" asked the boy as we entered.
"Yes," I answered briefly.
"Gee, is he? Well, _I_ can't give him any weeps! He was sumpin fierce!He just put it all over that young loidy. Sometimes she'd come down inthis elevator all to the teary, so's I 'most hadta order a consignmentof weep-catchers for myself. She's a looker all right, and she sets offthe house great, but she leads the dismal swamp life, an' that's right!"
I had neither time nor inclination then to reprove the boy for thuscrudely expressing his opinion, for we had reached the third floor, andDoctor Post and I went at once to Robert Pembroke's bedroom.
I introduced the new-comer to his older colleague, and then turned asidewhile they consulted on the problem that faced them.
I was surprised that a physician of Doctor Masterson's age andexperience should find it necessary to call the younger man to his aid,but as I knew little of medical men and their ways, I had no definiteopinion on the subject. I felt a slight embarrassment as to my ownpresence in the room, but I also felt a hesitancy about returning to thedrawing-room until the doctors should have reached a decision. Iendeavored not to hear the low words they were speaking, but I couldn'thelp gathering that there was an element of mystery in Robert Pembroke'sdeath. In order not to appear curious, I walked about the room, and idlynoted its furnishings. Though not over-ornate, the appointments werecomfortable and even luxurious. A great easy-chair stood by the window,which opened on an inner court, and which was in fact directly oppositethe window of my own bedroom in our duplicate apartment. Near by stood adesk, open, and with its contents tidily arranged. The position ofink-stand, pen-racks and stationery proved the old gentleman to havebeen of methodical habits and orderly tastes. My lawyer's brainimmediately darted to the conclusion that Robert Pembroke's sudden deathhad found him with his affairs all in order, and that his heirs, whoeverthey might be, would doubtless have no trouble in adjusting his estate.The dressing bureau and chiffonier presented just such an appearance asone would expect to see in the room of an elderly gentleman. While therewere no fancy knick-knacks, there was a multitude of ebony-backedbrushes and other toilet appurtenances. Moreover there were several bitsof really good bric-a-brac, two or three bronzes, a carved silver boxand some antique curios, that were evidently valuable.
Mr. Pembroke may have been quick-tempered and cruel-natured, but he rosein my opinion as I noticed the good taste displayed in the furnishing ofthe room. However, this might be due to Miss Pembroke's housekeeping,and it somehow pleased me to fancy that it was.
Two scraps of paper or cardboard lay on the floor near the foot of thebed. Obeying my instinct for tidiness, and really without thinking ofwhat I was doing, I picked them up and threw them into the waste basket.As I did so, I noticed they were stubs of theater tickets. I felt amomentary surprise at this, for I had been told that Mr. Pembroke neverwent out of the house. However, it was quite within the possibilitiesthat the stubs represented Miss Pembroke's attendance at the theatre, ormight even have been dropped there by some caller. These matters took nodefinite shape in my mind, but were mere drifting thoughts, when I heardDoctor Masterson say:
"Excuse me, Mr. Landon, but may I ask you to leave Doctor Post and me byourselves for a few moments? This affair is assuming a very seriousside, and it is necessary that a professional secrecy be observed, atleast for the moment."
"Certainly," I replied, greatly awed by the apprehension clearly evidenton the Doctor's kindly old face. "I have no wish but to be of servicein any way I may, and I'm completely at your orders."
"Thank you, Mr. Landon," returned Doctor Masterson, courteously, "I willtell you that we have to deal with a very grave situation, but I willask you to say nothing to the people in the other room concerning it."