Detective and mystery stories; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
"Women are inconsistent, sir. She liked the hat and hated to part with
it. She thought she could hide it somewhere in the great house, at least
that was what she said to me when she tucked it under her cape."
The Coroner, who evidently did not believe one word of this, stared at
the witness as if curiosity was fast taking the place of indignation.
And I did not wonder. Howard Van Burnam, as thus presented to our notice
by his own testimony, was an anomaly, whether we were to believe what he
was saying at the present time or what he had said during the morning
session. But I wished I had had the questioning of him.
His next answer, however, opened up one dark place into which I had been
peering for some time without any enlightenment. It was in reply to the
following query:
"All this," said the Coroner, "is very interesting; but what explanation
have you to give for taking your wife into your father's empty house at
an hour so late, and then leaving her to spend the best part of the dark
night alone?"
"None," said he, "that will strike you as sensible and judicious. But we
were not sensible that night, neither were we judicious, or I would not
be standing here trying to explain what is not explainable by any of the
ordinary rules of conduct. She was set upon being the first to greet my
father on his entrance into his own home, and her first plan had been to
do so in her own proper character as my wife, but afterwards the freak
took her, as I have said, to personify the housekeeper whom my father
had cabled us to have in waiting at his house,--a cablegram which had
reached us too late for any practical use, and which we had therefore
ignored,--and fearing he might come early in the morning, before she
could be on hand to make the favorable impression she intended, she
wished to be left in the house that night; and I humored her. I did not
foresee the suffering that my departure might cause her, or the fears
that were likely to spring from her lonely position in so large and
empty a dwelling. Or rather, I should say, _she_ did not foresee them;
for she begged me not to stay with her, when I hinted at the darkness
and dreariness of the place, saying that she was too jolly to feel fear
or think of anything but the surprise my father and sisters would
experience in discovering that their very agreeable young housekeeper
was the woman they had so long despised."
"And why," persisted the Coroner, edging forward in his interest and so
allowing me to catch a glimpse of Mr. Gryce's face as he too leaned
forward in his anxiety to hear every word that fell from this remarkable
witness,--"why do you speak of her fear? What reason have you to think
she suffered apprehension after your departure?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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