The Plot That Failed; or, When Men ConspireCarter, Nicholas (House name)
General
The Plot That Failed; or, When Men Conspire
Carter, Nicholas (House name)
American fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Dime novels
“It came about in this way. About two o’clock I was awakened by hearing
the steps of a man in the hall outside of my room. As was natural, I
lay as still as possible and listened, trying to catch what was said.”
“Did you hear anything?”
“Yes.”
“What was it?”
“I could not hear every word that was said, but what I did hear was to
the effect that it was unfortunate that they had not been able to get
out undetected.”
“Which you understood as meaning--what?”
“That some of the servants had seen them.”
“Was this view verified by what followed?”
“I think so.”
“Well, you heard words spoken to the effect stated. What followed that?”
“The men paused at my door to listen. They were, I thought, trying to
determine if the room was occupied, so I held my breath as long as I
could and then breathed as quietly as possible. Yet they heard me and
entered my room. Then they proceeded to tie me.”
“You pretended to wake up?”
“Yes.”
“What was said to you?”
“I was ordered to make no noise on penalty of losing my life.”
“What kind of looking men were they?”
“I could not see.”
“How was that? Didn’t they have a light?”
“Yes, but they were masked.”
“Well, what followed of which you have any knowledge?”
“I lay still for some time after they had left my room, and then I
began trying to force myself loose from my bonds.”
“You succeeded at last?”
“I did. It took me all of a couple of hours to get my hands free, and
as they had tied me to the bed and I had nothing in the shape of a
knife at hand, I was then compelled to undo those other knots, which
took me the best part of another hour. When I was free at last I went
down to the floor below and entered the master’s room.”
“And saw what?”
“Mr. Field lying on the floor.”
“Dead?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How can you be sure of that?”
“Because I went to his side, and kneeling down put my hand over his
heart.”
“You could not feel any pulsation?”
“I could not.”
“What then?”
“I thought of going to Mr. Barnes here, who was one of Mr. Field’s
warmest friends.”
“What o’clock was it at this time?”
“About five, just before daylight.”
“Mr. Barnes is your next neighbor?”
“He is.”
“How does it come, then, that he did not see you until after seven?”
“The reason of that was, that in my haste I was careless, and in going
down the stairs I tripped and fell, as a result of which I landed at
the foot in a senseless condition.”
“What stairs were these?”
“Those at the front of the house.”
“There is a stair at the rear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How did it happen that you did not first untie your fellow servants?”
“I cannot explain that, sir, even to myself. I merely knew that my
master was murdered, and was anxious to get his friend here as soon as
possible.”
“How long did you lie at the foot of the stairs in that insensible
condition?”
“Until about five minutes before I rang the bell of Mr. Barnes’ house.”
“After recovering consciousness did you go upstairs again before going
to Mr. Barnes?”
“I did not.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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