XXVII
FROM LIPS LONG SILENT
"This finishes my usefulness as a detective. I have had my fill ofhorrors; all, in fact, that my old age can stand."
Thus, Mr. Gryce, as hours afterward he and Sweetwater turned their facesback toward New York.
"I appreciate your feelings," responded the latter, who had beenstrangely silent all day, speaking only when directly addressed. "I canassure you that in my way I'm as much cut up as you are. I wish now thatI had made an attempt from the rear to head off this distracted woman,even if I had been obliged to scratch my hands to pieces tearing a boardfrom the fence."
"It would have done no good. She was determined to die rather than giveup her secret. I remember the look with which her sister-in-law warnedme that she would never survive a capture. But I thought that mereexaggeration."
Then after a moment of conscious silence on the part of both, the wearyold man added with bitter emphasis, "Her testimony might--I do not saywould--have cleared away our suspicions of Director Roberts."
Sweetwater, who was acting as chauffeur, slowed down his machine till itcame to a standstill at the side of the road. Then wheeling quietly abouttill he faced his surprised companion, he remarked very gravely:
"Mr. Gryce, I hadn't the heart to tell you this before, but the timehas come for you to know that Mr. Roberts' cause is not so favorablyaffected, as you seem to think, by this suicidal death of one who withoutdoubt would have proved to be a leading witness against him. I am sureyou will agree with me in this when I inform you that in pursuing thetask you set me, I came upon _this_."
Thrusting his hand into his pocket, he pulled out a large envelope fromwhich he proceeded to draw forth first the tattered square of what hadonce been a cabinet portrait, and then a freshly printed proof of thesame. Holding them both up, he waited for the word that was sure tofollow.
It came with all the emphasis he expected.
"Roberts! Director Roberts!"
"The same, sir"; and the eyes of the two detectives met in what wascertainly one of the most solemn moments of their lives.
They had paused for this short conference at a point where the roadrunning for a few yards on a level gave them a view of slope on slope ofvarying verdure, with glimpses of the Hudson between. Glancing up, with agesture of manifest shrinking from the portrait which Sweetwater stillheld, Mr. Gryce allowed his glance to run over the wonderful landscapelaid out to his view, and said with breaks and halts bespeaking his deepemotion:
"If my death here and now, following fast upon that of this unhappyFrenchwoman, would avail to wipe out the evidence I have so laboriouslycollected against this man, I should welcome it with gratitude. I shrinkfrom ending my career with the shattering of so fine an image, in thepublic eye. What lies back of this crime--what past memories or presentmiseries have led to an act which would be called dastardly in the mostuninstructed and basest of our sex, I lack the imagination to conceive.Would to God I had never tried to find out! But no man standing whereRoberts does to-day among the leaders of a great party can fall into sucha pit of shame without weakening the faith of the young and making atravesty of virtue and honor."
"Yet, if he is guilty----"
"It is our business to pursue him to the end. Only, I like the man,Sweetwater. I had a long talk with him yesterday on indifferent mattersand I came away liking him."
This was certainly something Sweetwater had not expected to hear, andit threw him again into silence as he started up the machine and theypursued their course home.
Hard as the day had been for Mr. Gryce, its trials were not yet over. Hehad left it to Sweetwater to report the case to the New York authoritiesand had gone home to rest from the shock of the occurrence and to preparefor that interview with the Chief Inspector which he was satisfied wouldnow lead to an even more exacting one with the District Attorney.
He was met by a messenger from downtown who handed him a letter. Heopened it abstractedly and read the following:
"Mrs. Taylor is talking."
He had forgotten Mrs. Taylor. To have her thus brought forcibly back tomind was a shock heightened, rather than diminished, by a perusal of thefew connected words which the careful nurse had transcribed as fallingfrom her delirious patient's lips.
They were these:
I love but thee, And thee will I love to eternity.
The exact lines, no more, no less, which Sweetwater had found written onthe back of the Swiss clock cherished by Mr. Roberts.