XVIII
THE PHIAL
The moment was not propitious for a fuller understanding between us.Sam lowered the light and sauntered back into the outer room,remarking lazily to Yox:
"If I were you I wouldn't sport this thing around too openly. Ifjudiciously kept out of sight it may bring you in another hundred someday."
"How's that? You know those initials?"
"Know Louis Le Duc Gracieux? Well, rather. But as long as you have notthe honour, keep quiet, lie low, and await events. That is, if youcare about the money. What have you done with the blouse?"
"Put it away in cotton."
"Oh, I see. Well, put the match-box with it."
"I will."
"Have another cigar?"
"Thank you. I don't often have such a snap. Well, what is it, sir?"
"Oh, nothing."
"I thought you looked as if you wanted something from me."
"I? Not the least in the world."
Silence, then a lazy movement on the part of Sam which disturbedsomething on the table at which they were sitting. The small noise hadthe effect of eliciting another word from Sam.
"I thought your story had more to it when I heard it last. Didn't yousay something about a small parcel which this mysterious man took outof his pocket before handing over his blouse?"
"Perhaps; but that wasn't anything. I wonder you remember it."
Long silence on the part of Sam.
"I never forget anything," he observed at last. "Was it a big parcelor a little?"
"It was a small one."
"How small?"
"Oh, a thing a man could hold in his fist. Why do you ask about it?"
"Whim. I am trying to wake myself up. What was the shape of thisparcel?"
"Bless me if I've given two thoughts to it."
"You'll get that blessing, Yox; for you've given more than twothoughts to it."
"I?"
"Yes, or why should you have described it as minutely as you did theother night?"
"Did I?"
"Undoubtedly; I can even recall your words. You said the fellow waspretty well shaken up for a man of his size and appearance, and afterhanding you the blouse he caught it back and took something out of oneof the pockets. It looked like one of those phials the homoeopathsuse. You see, you were inclined to be more dramatic on that occasionthan on this. Indeed, I have been a little disappointed in youto-night."
"Oh, well! a fellow cannot always cut a figure. I'll try to rememberthe bottle next time I tell the story."
Sam did not answer; I heard him yawn instead. But I did not yawn; thatword "phial," had effectually roused me.
"As you say, it is a small matter," Underhill finally drawled. "So isthe straw that turns the current. He was a philosopher who said, 'Thelittle rift within the lute,' etc., etc." Then suddenly, and with awide-awake air which evidently startled his companion: "Do yousuppose, Yox, that Mother Merry runs an opium-joint in those upperrooms?"
The answer he received evidently startled him.
"She may. I hadn't thought of it before, but I remember, now, thatwhen those women were brought down there was amongst them one whocertainly was under the influence of something worse than liquor.Faugh! I see her yet. But it wasn't opium he had in that bottle; thatis, not the opium which is used for smoking. The firelight shone fullupon it as he passed it from one pocket to another, and I sawdistinctly the sparkle of some dark liquid."
Sam Underhill, who seemed to have fallen back into his old conditionof sleepy interest, mumbled something about his having been able tosee a good deal, considering the darkness of the place. To which hisnow possibly suspicious visitor replied:
"I would have seen more if I had known so much was to be got out ofit. Can you give me a point or two as to how I'm to get that extrahundred?"
Whereupon Sam retorted, "Not to-night," in a way to close theconversation.
As soon as the man had left I rushed in upon Sam without ceremony. Hewas still sitting at the table smoking, and received me with a look ofmingled amusement and anxiety.
"How did the comedy strike you?" he asked.
I attempted a shrug which failed before his imperturbable nonchalance.
"How did it strike you?" he persisted.
"As cleverly carried out, but not so cleverly that the fellow will notsuspect it to be a comedy."
"Oh, well! So long as he does not associate the right name with thosefour initials we are safe. And he won't; I know Yox well enough forthat."
"Then you know him for a fool. Louis Gracieux! Who is Louis Gracieux?Besides, the phial--why, the whole town is talking about a phial----"
"I know, but not about a match-box that is worth another hundreddollars to the man holding it. Yox isn't a member of the regularpolice; he's in business for himself, which means he's in it for whathe can make. Now, he knows--or, rather, I flatter myself that I havemade him see--that there is more to be got out of this matter bycircumspection and a close tongue than by bragging of his good luckand giving every ass about him a chance to chew upon those letters.Oh, he'll keep quiet now, for a week or two at least. After that Icannot promise."
"Do you think his version of this affair reliable?"
"Absolutely. He would have exaggerated more if he had been forcing aninvention upon us."
I sat down and, regarding Underhill across the table, remarkedsomewhat pointedly:
"Now that the name has been mentioned between us, we can talk moreopenly. What date have you been able to give to Yox's adventure? Yousurely have not failed to get from him the day he went down to MotherMerry's?"
Sam rose--he who detested rising--and, going to a little side tablewhere a pile of newspapers lay, he pulled off the top one and laid itopen before me, taking care, however, to stretch his arm across theupper margin in a way to cover up effectually the date.
"Read," said he, pointing to a paragraph.
I followed his finger and read out a brief account of the descentwhich had been made on Mother Merry's, and a description of theproceedings which had ended in the release of the women involved.
"Now take a look at the date," he went on, lifting his arm.
I did so; it was a memorable one,--the evening of Mr. Gillespie'sdeath.
"The affair at Mother Merry's took place on the preceding night,"commented Sam. There was no languishing note in his voice now.
I sat silent; when I did speak it was plainly and decidedly.
"I see what you mean. You think he went to that place to get theacid."
Sam puffed away at his cigar.
"It has been a mystery to everyone where that acid came from," Icontinued; "a mystery which has evidently baffled the police. If adruggist in the whole range of this great city had lately sold aphial of this poison to anyone answering the description given ofthese brothers, we would have heard from him before now. Equally so ifa doctor had prescribed it."
"A second Daniel come to judgment," quoth Sam, sententiously.
"And now we, through chance or special providence, perhaps, havestumbled upon a clue as to how this deadly drug may have entered theGillespie family."
"I regret to agree with you, but that is the way it looks. But,Outhwaite, you must remember--and as a lawyer you will--that a longand tangled road lies between mere supposition and the establishmentof a fact like this. This phial, so carefully transferred from apocket where a seemingly more valuable article lay hid, has not beenidentified as holding poison, only as holding a liquid. Much less hasit been proven to be the bottle found under the clock in the Gillespiedining-room."
"All very true."
"Yet this fellow's story of--well, let us say, Louis Gracieux'appearance and conduct in this more than doubtful place, warrants usin thinking the worst of his errand."
I felt the force of this suggestion.
"Quite true." I assented. Then, in some agitation, for my thoughtswere divided between the relief which a knowledge of this night'soccurrences might bring to Hope and the terrible re
sults to the manhimself, I went on to say:
"His little girl--you never saw his little girl, Sam. Well, she's afairy-like creature, and the last time I saw her she had her armsabout his neck."
"Don't talk about children," he hastily objected. "You'll make a muffof me," and then I remembered he had a great weakness for children. "Ihad rather you'd talk about Miss Meredith. Nothing but the interest Itake in the peculiar position held by this young lady gives me therequisite courage to stir in this matter. I have known those boys toolong and too well; that is, I have drunk too many bottles with Georgeand sat out too many nights in full view of Alfred's handsome figure,stretched out in the mysterious apathy I have alluded to. WithLeighton I have fewer associations; but I have seen enough of him toknow perfectly well the match-box which Yox handed out."
"Do you suppose there was anything in those pockets besides thematch-box; anything, I mean, calculated to give away the wearer ofthat foul blouse?"
"No. If there had been; if, in other words, he had found anythingthere which suggested a member of the Gillespie family, he would neverhave aired the matter in the presence of their friends. He would havegone at once to the police, or endeavoured to make such capital out ofit as such a find would suggest."
"Then you really think he does not know that the tools he is playingwith have mighty sharp edges?"
"I am confident he does not."
"That is a relief; yet he cannot remain in such ignorance long if Icall him to my assistance."
"That depends."
"How, depends?"
"Upon what you want him to do."
For this I had no answer. My plans were as vague as the wanderingsmoke-wreaths curling upward at that instant from my neglected cigar.
"You have never liked Leighton," I remarked, in the hope of adjustingmy thoughts before entering upon the more serious portion of thisconversation. "Neither have I, since surprising a very strangeexpression on his face the night of his father's death."
"Yet three-quarters of the people who knew him would tell you that heis a good man, a very good man, the best of the three, by far."
"Notwithstanding his low associates?" I ventured.
"Notwithstanding everything. People are so deceived by a few wordsuttered in prayer-meeting, that their judgment is apt to be blunted tothe real character of a man like Leighton Gillespie."
"He must be an odd one," I observed. "The lights and shades of such anature are past finding out. In appearance and manner he is agentleman, yet if Yox's story is true he finds no difficulty invisiting the worst of places under circumstances and in a garb whichbespeaks a personal interest in them. The nature of that interest wehave dared to infer from the part played in his visit by themysterious phial. But how account for such instincts, such murderousimpulses in a man brought up as he has been? The motive must have beena serious one to drive a man of his connections into crime. Can youname it? Was it the need of money, a craving for perfect liberty topursue his own strange courses unchecked, or just the malice of arevengeful spirit cherishing some rankling grudge, which only thedeath of its object could satisfy?"
"Do not ask me. I'm not going to supply facts and reasons, too, inthis matter. What! going?"
"Yes, I never don my thinking-cap to any purpose save in privacy andunder the influences emanating from my own room and its familiarsurroundings."
"Very good--you shall seek such inspiration as is to be found there injust another moment. But first let me give you a little furtherinsight into the character of the man we are discussing. This issomething I saw myself: One day last fall I was going down WestBroadway when I came upon Leighton Gillespie standing near an elegantturnout, talking with an ill-shod and bedraggled woman. Asphilanthropy is his fad and occurrences of this kind a common affairwith him, I was passing by with no further display of interest than aninward sneer, when I noted his expression and stopped short, if notfrom sympathy, at least in some curiosity as to the woman who coulddraw it forth. Outhwaite, she was a wild-eyed, panting creature, withchestnut-coloured hair and nervously working lips; not beautiful, noteven interesting--to me. But he--well! I have seen few faces look ashis did then, and when she started to run--as she presently did, hecaught at the muddy shawl she wore and pulled her back as if his verylife depended upon restraining her at his side.
"I even saw him take that shawl in his hand--such a shawl! I wouldnot have touched it for a champagne supper, and there have been timeswhen he has shown himself more squeamish on some subjects than I. Buthe was not squeamish now--far from it, for he not only held thatshawl, but fumbled with it, almost clung to it, talking all the whilewith voluble persistency. At last he asked her some questions whichbrought out a passionate refusal. But if discouraged, he did not showit; on the contrary, he continued his plea with increasingearnestness, and finally pointed to his carriage. She gave it one lookand shrank back with a gesture of fear; then she grew steadier and herhead fell forward on her breast. He went on pleading with her; andthen I saw a strange sight. With an air such as only a swell likehimself is capable of assuming, he signalled to his driver to draw upat the curbstone before him. Then, as he might hand in one of the fourhundred, he handed her in and took his seat beside her. Not a look tothe right nor left,--he was simply the perfect gentleman; and,obnoxious as he had always been to me up to that hour, I could not butrespect his manner if not himself. It was admirable, and so was thatof the man who sat upon the box. Though the latter must have cringedwhen that disreputable foot struck the step and what might be called abundle of rags entered among his pearl satin cushions, he did not turna hair or lose a jot of that serene absorption in his own affairswhich characterises all the Gillespie coachmen. I watched himexpressly to see. A valuable fellow that, for a master of theeccentric tastes of Leighton Gillespie!"
"You interest me," said I. "Did you watch them drive off?"
"Yes, and stood there staring till they were half down the block, forshe had not accepted the situation with the same ease as himself, andI felt that something would happen. And there did. Before the polishedpanels were lost to my sight, the door burst open and I saw her wildfigure jump out and plunge away in the direction of the river. Thistime he made no attempt to follow her; the carriage rolled on and hewith it. Nor did he do what I would have done,--let the door standopen till the air of that carriage had been purged of its lateunwholesome occupant. Altogether, it was an odd experience. What doyou make out of it, Outhwaite?"
"He's a fellow who will bear studying. Is he always so respectful tothe paupers he befriends?"
Sam shrugged his shoulders.
"I have related my sole experience with Leighton Gillespie in his_role_ of philanthropist. My other memories of him suggest simply themillionaire's son."
"I SAW HER WILD FIGURE JUMP OUT AND PLUNGE AWAY IN THEDIRECTION OF THE RIVER"]