The Stillwater Tragedy

  XXI

  Margaret must be told. It would be like stabbing her to tell herall this. Mr. Slocum had lain awake long after midnight, appalled bythe calamity that was about to engulf them. At moments, as histhought reverted to Margaret's illness early in the spring, he feltthat perhaps it would have been a mercy if she had died then. He hadleft the candles burning; it was not until the wicks sunk down in thesockets and went softly out that slumber fell upon him.

  He was now sitting at the breakfast-table, absently crumbling bitsof bread beside his plate and leaving his coffee untouched. Margaretglanced at him wistfully from time to time, and detected the restlessnight in the deepened lines of his face.

  The house had not been the same since Lemuel Shackford's death; hehad never crossed its threshold; Margaret had scarcely known him bysight, and Mr. Slocum had not spoken to him for years; but Richard'sconnection with the unfortunate old man had brought the tragic eventvery close to Margaret and her father. Mr. Slocum was a person easilydepressed, but his depression this morning was so greatly in excessof the presumable cause that Margaret began to be troubled.

  "Papa, has anything happened?"

  "No, nothing new has happened; but I am dreadfully disturbed bysome things which Mr. Taggett has been doing here in the village."

  "I thought Mr. Taggett had gone."

  "He did go; but he came back very quietly without anybody'sknowledge. I knew it, of course; but no one else, to speak of."

  "What has he done to disturb you?"

  "I want you to be a brave girl, Margaret,--will you promise that?"

  "Why, yes," said Margaret, with an anxious look. "You frighten mewith your mysteriousness."

  "I do not mean to be mysterious, but I don't quite know how totell you about Mr. Taggett. He has been working underground in thismatter of poor Shackford's death,--boring in the dark like amole,--and thinks he has discovered some strange things."

  "Do you mean he thinks he has found out who killed Mr.Shackford?"

  "He believes he has fallen upon clews which will lead to that. Thestrange things I alluded to are things which Richard will have toexplain."

  "Richard? What has he to do with it?"

  "Not much, I hope; but there are several matters which he will beobliged to clear up in order to save himself from very greatannoyance. Mr. Taggett seems to think that--that"--

  "Good heavens, papa! What does he think?"

  "Margaret, he thinks that Richard knew something about the murder,and has not told it."

  "What could he know? Is that all?"

  "No, that is not all. I am keeping the full truth from you, and itis useless to do so. You must face it like a brave girl. Mr. Taggettsuspects Richard of being concerned, directly or indirectly, with thecrime."

  The color went from Margaret's cheek for an instant. The statementwas too horrible and sudden not to startle her, but it was also tooabsurd to have more than an instant's effect. Her quick recovery ofherself reassured Mr. Slocum. Would she meet Mr. Taggett's specificcharges with the like fortitude? Mr. Slocum himself had beenprostrated by them; he prayed to Heaven that Margaret might have morestrength than he, as indeed she had.

  "The man has got together a lot of circumstantial evidence,"continued Mr. Slocum cautiously; "some of it amounts to nothing,being mere conjecture; but some of it will look badly for Richard, tooutsiders."

  "Of course it is all a mistake," said Margaret, in nearly hernatural voice. "It ought to be easy to convince Mr. Taggett of that."

  "I have not been able to convince him."

  "But you will. What has possessed him to fall into such aridiculous error?"

  "Mr. Taggett has written out everything at length in thismemorandum-book, and you must read it for yourself. There areexpressions and statements in these pages, Margaret, that willnecessarily shock you very much; but you should remember, as I triedto while reading them, that Mr. Taggett has a heart of steel; withoutit he would be unable to do his distressing work. The coldimpartiality with which he sifts and heaps up circumstances involvingthe doom of a fellow-creature appears almost inhuman; but it is hisbusiness. No, don't look at it here!" said Mr. Slocum, recoiling; hehad given the book to Margaret. "Take it into the other room, andread it carefully by yourself. When you have finished, come back andtell me what you think."

  "But, papa, surely you"--

  "I don't believe anything, Margaret! I don't know the true fromthe false any more! I want you to help me out of my confusion, andyou cannot do it until you have read that book."

  Margaret made no response, but passed into the parlor and closedthe folding-doors behind her.

  After an absence of half an hour she reentered the breakfast room,and laid Mr. Taggett's diary on the table beside her father, who hadnot moved from his place during the interval. Margaret's manner wascollected, but it was evident, by the dark circles under her eyes,and the set, colorless lips, that that half hour had been a cruelthirty minutes to her. In Margaret's self-possession Mr. Slocumrecognized, not for the first time, the cropping out of an ancestraltrait which had somehow managed to avoid him in its wayward descent.

  "Well?" he questioned, looking earnestly at Margaret, and catchinga kind of comfort from her confident bearing.

  "It is Mr. Taggett's trade to find somebody guilty," saidMargaret, "and he has been very ingenious and very merciless. He wasplainly at his wits' ends to sustain his reputation, and would nothave hesitated to sacrifice any one rather than wholly fail."

  "But you have been crying, Margaret."

  "How could I see Richard dragged down in the dust in this fashion,and not be mortified and indignant?"

  "You don't believe anything at all of this?"

  "Do _you?"_ asked Margaret, looking through and through him.

  "I confess I am troubled."

  "If you doubt Richard for a second," said Margaret, with a slightquiver of her lip, "that will be the bitterest part of it to me."

  "I don't give any more credit to Mr. Taggett's general chargesthan you do, Margaret; but I understand their gravity better. Aperfectly guiltless man, one able with a single word to establish hisinnocence, is necessarily crushed at first by an accusation of thiskind. Now, can Richard set these matters right with a single word? Iam afraid he has a world of difficulty before him."

  "When he returns he will explain everything. How can you questionit?"

  "I do not wish to; but there are two things in Mr. Taggett's storywhich stagger me. The motive for the destruction of Shackford'spapers,--that's not plain; the box of matches is a puerility unworthyof a clever man like Mr. Taggett, and as to the chisel he found, why,there are a hundred broken chisels in the village, and probably ascore of them broken in precisely the same manner; but, Margaret, didRichard every breathe a word to you of that quarrel with his cousin?"

  "No."

  "He never mentioned it to me either. As matters stood between youand him, nothing was more natural than that he should have spoken ofit to you,--so natural that his silence is positively strange."

  "He may have considered it too unimportant. Mr. Shackford alwaysabused Richard; it was nothing new. Then, again, Richard is veryproud, and perhaps he did not care to come to us just at that timewith family grievances. Besides, how do we know they quarreled? Thevillage is full of gossip."

  "I am certain there was a quarrel; it was only necessary for thosetwo to meet to insure that. I distinctly remember the forenoon whenRichard went to Welch's Court; it was the day he discharged Torrini."

  A little cloud passed over Margaret's countenance.

  "They undoubtedly had angry words together," continued Mr. Slocum,"and we are forced to accept the Hennessey girl's statement. Thereason you suggest for Richard's not saying anything on the subjectmay suffice for us, but it will scarcely satisfy disinterestedpersons, and doesn't at all cover another circumstance which must betaken in the same connection."

  "What circumstance?"

  "His silence in regard to Lemuel Shackford's note,--a note writtenthe day b
efore the murder, and making an appointment for the verynight of it."

  The girl looked steadily at her father.

  "Margaret!" exclaimed Mr. Slocum, his face illuminated with aflickering hope as he met her untroubled gaze, "did Richard tell_you?"_

  "No," replied Margaret.

  "Then he told no one," said Mr. Slocum, with the light fading outof his features again. "It was madness in him to conceal the fact. Heshould not have lost a moment, after the death of his cousin, inmaking that letter public. It ought instantly to have been placed inCoroner Whidden's hands. Richard's action is inconceivable,unless--unless"--

  "Do not say it!" cried Margaret. "I should never forgive you!"

  In recapitulating the points of Mr. Taggett's accusation, Mr.Slocum had treated most of them as trivial; but he had not beensincere. He knew that that broken chisel had no duplicate inStillwater, and that the finding of it in Richard's closet was ablack fact. Mr. Slocum had also glossed over the quarrel; but thatletter!--the likelihood that Richard kept the appointment, and hisabsolute silence concerning it,--here was a grim thing which nosophistry could dispose of. It would be wronging Margaret to deceiveher as to the vital seriousness of Richard's position.

  "Why, why did he hide it!" Mr. Slocum persisted.

  "I do not see that he really hid it, papa. He shut the note in abook lying openly on the table,--a dictionary, to which any one inthe household was likely to go. You think Mr. Taggett a person ofgreat acuteness."

  "He is a very intelligent person, Margaret."

  "He appears to me very short-sighted. If Richard were the dreadfulman Mr. Taggett supposes, that paper would have been burnt, and notleft for the first comer to pick up. I scorn myself for stooping tothe suggestion!"

  "There is something in the idea," said Mr. Slocum slowly. "But whydid Richard never mention the note,--to you, or to me, or toanybody?"

  "He had a sufficient reason, you may be sure. Oh, papa, how readyyou are to believe evil of him!"

  "I am not, God knows!"

  "How you cling to this story of the letter! Suppose it turns outto be some old letter, written two or three years ago? You couldnever look Richard in the face again."

  "Unfortunately, Shackford dated it. It is useless for us toblindfold ourselves, Margaret. Richard has managed in some way to gethimself into a very perilous situation, and we cannot help him byshutting our eyes. You misconceive me if you imagine I think himcapable of coolly plotting his cousin's death; but it is not outsidethe limits of the possible that what has happened a thousand timesmay have happened once more. Men less impulsive than Richard"--

  "I will not listen to it!" interrupted Margaret, drawing herselfup. "When Richard returns he will explain the matter to you,--not tome. If I required a word of denial from him, I should care verylittle whether he was innocent or not."

  Mr. Slocum threw a terrified glance at his daughter. Her loftyfaith sent a chill to his heart. What would be the result of a fallfrom such a height? He almost wished Margaret had something less ofthat ancestral confidence and obstinacy the lack of which in his owncomposition he had so often deplored.

  "We are not to speak of this to Richard," he said, after aprotracted pause; "at least not until Mr. Taggett considers it best.I have pledged myself to something like that."

  "Has Richard been informed of Mr. Taggett's singular proceeding?"asked Margaret, freezingly.

  "Not yet; nothing is to be done until Mr. Taggett returns from NewYork, and then Richard will at once have an opportunity of clearinghimself."

  "It would have spared us all much pain and misunderstanding if hehad been sent for in the first instance. Did he know that this personwas here in the yard?"

  "The plan was talked over before Richard left; the details werearranged afterwards. He heartily approved of the plan."

  A leisurely and not altogether saint-like smile crept into thecorners of Margaret's mouth.

  "Yes, he approved of the plan," repeated Mr. Slocum. "Perhapshe"--Here Mr. Slocum checked himself, and left the sentence flying atloose ends. Perhaps Richard had looked with favor upon a method ofinquiry which was so likely to lead to no result. But Mr. Slocum didnot venture to finish the suggestion. He had never seen Margaret soimperious and intractable; it was impossible to reason or to talkfrankly with her. He remained silent, sitting with one arm throwndejectedly across the back of the chair.

  Presently his abject attitude and expression began to touchMargaret; there was something that appealed to her in the thin grayhair fallowing over his forehead. Her eyes softened as they restedupon him, and a pitying little tremor came to her under lip.

  "Papa," she said, stooping to his side, with a sudden rosy bloomin her cheeks, "I have all the proof I want that Richard knew nothingof this dreadful business."

  "You have proof!" exclaimed Mr. Slocum, starting from his seat.

  "Yes. The morning Richard went to New York"--Margaret hesitated.

  "Well!"

  "He put his arm around me and kissed me."

  "Well!"

  "Well?" repeated Margaret. "Could Richard have done that,--couldhe have so much as laid his hand upon me--if--if"--

  Mr. Slocum sunk back in the chair with a kind of groan.

  "Papa, you do not know him!"

  "Oh, Margaret, I am afraid that that is not the kind of evidenceto clear Richard in Mr. Taggett's eyes."

  "Then Richard's word must do it," she said haughtily. "He will behome to-night."

  "Yes, he is to return to-night," said Mr. Slocum, looking awayfrom her.