The Impending Sword: A Novel (Vol. 2 of 3)Yates, Edmund
General
The Impending Sword: A Novel (Vol. 2 of 3)
Yates, Edmund
Fiction
'I can,' she replied, 'but it will be a little difficult to do without
exciting suspicion and precipitating discovery, if indeed the
discovery is to be made. I cannot send for her to come to me
openly--such an invitation would astonish Mrs. Griswold, and she might
meet it with an objection--neither can I go in my proper capacity to
Mrs. Griswold's house to visit one of Mrs. Griswold's servants.'
'Why can't you go as a servant yourself?' said Bryan Duval. 'Your
make-up in that line is unexceptionable; try it off the boards at
once!'
'I will,' said Miss Montressor; 'that is a capital idea. I will go
disguised, and discover whether the lady at the play really was Mrs.
Griswold. If I cannot see her, which I may manage to do by some
contrivance, I shall at least be sure to see a portrait of her. A man
like her husband was not likely to be satisfied with a mere miniature
of his wife while a full-length portrait was to be had for money. We
are, of course, morally certain that the fact is what we take it to
be, but the first thing to be done is to achieve actual certainty.
Taking it for granted that I see Mrs. Griswold and identify her with
the miniature, what will you do next?'
'I cannot decide upon that until I have received your report,' said
Bryan Duval, 'on these two heads--first, the identity of Mrs. Griswold
with the portrait Mr. Foster showed you; secondly, the name and
address of some intimate friend of the family, with whom I may at once
communicate.'
'I am quite sure there is such a person,' interrupted Miss Montressor.
'I could not distinctly recall everything that Mr. Foster told me, in
the hurry and confusion of last night; but since then I have
remembered a good deal. He mentioned to me, but not by name, one
friend in particular, in whose charge he had confided not only his
business interests in New York during his absence, but also his
household treasures. Poor fellow, he quite amused me--though I am
conscious now that I did not respond very warmly or graciously--by his
simple talk about his wife and child. He would try to describe the
baby to me, and he did describe the mother as well as showing me her
picture. He was a good soul. But I quite remember now that he told me
he had this trusty friend.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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