Oh, Louis was spending the evening out, was he? exclaimed Mr. Orville. I think that should be looked into, Mr. Coroner. Louis said nothing of this in his testimony.
Coroner Monroe turned again to Louis and asked him where he was the evening before.
The man was now decidedly agitated, but by an effort he controlled himself and answered steadily enough:
I have tell you that Mr. Crawford say I may go wherever I like. And so, last evening I spend with a young lady.
At what time did you go out?
At half after the eight, sir.
And what time did you return?
I return about eleven.
And did you then see a light in Mr. Crawfords office?
Louis hesitated a moment. It could easily be seen that he was pausing only to enable himself to speak naturally and clearly, but it was only after one of those darting glances at Miss Lloyd that he replied:
I could not see Mr. Crawfords office, because I go around the other side of the house. I make my entree by the back door; I go straight to my room, and I know nothing of my master until I go to his room this morning and find him not there.
Then you didnt go to his room last night on your return?
As I pass his door, I see it open, and his light low, so I know he is still below stair.
And you did not pass by the library on your way round the house?
Louiss face turned a shade whiter than usual, but he said distinctly, though in a low voice, No, sir.
An involuntary gasp as of amazement was heard, and though I looked quickly at Miss Lloyd, it was not she who had made the sound. It was one of the maidservants, a pretty German girl, who sat behind Miss Lloyd. No one else seemed to notice it, and I realized it was not surprising that the strain of the occasion should thus disturb the girl.
You heard Louis come in, Lambert? asked Mr. Monroe, who was conducting the whole inquiry in a conversational way, rather than as a formal inquest.
Yes, sir; he came in about eleven, and went directly to his room.
The butler stood with folded hands, a sad expression in his eyes, but with an air of importance that seemed to be inseparable from him, in any circumstances.
Doctor Fairchild was called as the next witness.
He testified that he had been summoned that morning at about quarter before eight oclock. He had gone immediately to Mr. Crawfords house, was admitted by the butler, and taken at once to the office. He found Mr. Crawford dead in his chair, shot through the left temple with a thirty-two calibre revolver.
Excuse me, said Mr. Lemuel Porter, who, with the other jurors, was listening attentively to all the testimony. If the weapon was not found, how do you know its calibre?
I extracted the bullet from the wound, returned Doctor Fairchild, and those who know have pronounced it to be a ball fired from a small pistol of thirty-two calibre.
But if Mr. Crawford had committed suicide, the pistol would have been there, said Mr. Porter; who seemed to be a more acute thinker than the other jurymen.
Exactly, agreed the coroner. Thats why we must conclude that Mr. Crawford did not take his own life.
Nor would he have done so, declared Doctor Fairchild. I have known the deceased for many years. He had no reason for wishing to end his life, and, I am sure, no inclination to do so. He was shot by an alien hand, and the deed was probably committed at or near midnight.
Thus we assume, the coroner went on, as the doctor finished his simple statement and resumed his seat, that Mr. Crawford remained in his office, occupied with his business matters, until midnight or later, when some person or persons came into his room, murdered him, and went away again, without making sufficient noise or disturbance to arouse the sleeping household.
Perhaps Mr. Crawford himself had fallen asleep in his chair, suggested one of the jurors,the Mr. Orville, who was continually taking notes in his little book.
It is possible, said the doctor, as the remark was practically addressed to him, but not probable. The attitude in which the body was found indicates that the victim was awake, and in full possession of his faculties. Apparently he made no resistance of any sort.
Which seems to show, said the coroner, that his assailant was not a burglar or tramp, for in that case he would surely have risen and tried to put him out. The fact that Mr. Crawford was evidently shot by a person standing in front of him, seems to imply that that persons attitude was friendly, and that the victim had no suspicion of the danger that threatened him.
This was clear and logical reasoning, and I looked at the coroner in admiration, until I suddenly remembered Parmalees hateful suspicion and wondered if Coroner Monroe was preparing for an attack upon Miss Lloyd.
Gregory Hall was summoned next.
He was self-possessed and even cool in his demeanor. There was a frank manner about him that pleased me, but there was also a something which repelled me.
I couldnt quite explain it to myself, but while he had an air of extreme straightforwardness, there was also an indefinable effect of reserve. I couldnt help feeling that if this man had anything to conceal, he would be quite capable of doing so under a mask of great outspokenness.
But, as it turned out, he had nothing either to conceal or reveal, for he had been away from West Sedgwick since six oclock the night before, and knew nothing of the tragedy until he heard of it by telephone at Mr. Crawfords New York office that morning about half-past ten. This made him of no importance as a witness, but Mr. Monroe asked him a few questions.
You left here last evening, you say?
On the six oclock train to New York, yes.
For what purpose?
On business for Mr. Crawford.
Did that business occupy you last evening?
Mr. Hall looked surprised at this question, but answered quietly
No; I was to attend to the business to-day. But I often go to New York for several days at a time.
And where were you last evening? pursued the coroner.
This time Mr. Hall looked more surprised still, and said
As it has no bearing on the matter in hand, I prefer not to answer that rather personal question.
Mr. Monroe looked surprised in his turn, and said: I think I must insist upon an answer, Mr. Hall, for it is quite necessary that we learn the whereabouts of every member of this household last evening.
I cannot agree with you, sir, said Gregory Hall, coolly; my engagements for last evening were entirely personal matters, in no way connected with Mr. Crawfords business. As I was not in West Sedgwick at the time my late employer met his death, I cannot see that my private affairs need be called into question.
Quite so, quite so, put in Mr. Orville; but Lemuel Porter interrupted him.
Not at all so. I agree with Mr. Monroe, that Mr. Hall should frankly tell us where he spent last evening.
And I refuse to do so, said Mr. Hall, speaking not angrily, but with great decision.
Your refusal may tend to direct suspicion toward yourself, Mr. Hall, said the coroner.
Gregory Hall smiled slightly. As I was out of town, your suggestion sounds a little absurd. However, I take that risk, and absolutely refuse to answer any questions save those which relate to the matter in hand.
Coroner Monroe looked rather helplessly at his jurors, but as none of them said anything further, he turned again to Gregory Hall.
The telephone message you received this morning, then, was the first knowledge you had of Mr. Crawfords death?
The telephone message you received this morning, then, was the first knowledge you had of Mr. Crawfords death?
It was.
And you came out here at once?
Yes; on the first train I could catch.
I am sorry you resent personal questions, Mr. Hall, for I must ask you some. Are you engaged to Mr. Crawfords niece, Miss Lloyd?
I am.
This answer was given in a low, quiet tone, apparently without emotion of any kind, but Miss Lloyd showed, a different attitude. At the words of Gregory Hall, she blushed, dropped her eyes, fingered her handkerchief nervously, and evinced just such embarrassment as might be expected from any young woman, in the event of a public mention of her betrothal. And yet I had not looked for such an exhibition from Florence Lloyd. Her very evident strength of character would seem to preclude the actions of an inexperienced debutante.
Did Mr. Crawford approve of your engagement to his niece? pursued Mr. Monroe.
With all due respect, Mr. Coroner, said Gregory Hall, in his subdued but firm way, I cannot think these questions are relevant or pertinent. Unless you can assure me that they are, I prefer not to reply.
They are both relevant and pertinent to the matter in hand, Mr. Hall; but I am now of the opinion that they would better be asked of another witness. You are excused. I now call Miss Florence Lloyd.
V. FLORENCE LLOYD
A stir was perceptible all through the room as Miss Lloyd acknowledged by a bow of her beautiful head the summons of the coroner.
The jurors looked at her with evident sympathy and admiration, and I remembered that as they were fellow-townsmen and neighbors they probably knew the young woman well, and she was doubtless a friend of their own daughters.
It seemed as if such social acquaintance must prejudice them in her favor, and perhaps render them incapable of unbiased judgment, should her evidence be incriminating. But in my secret heart, I confess, I felt glad of this. I was glad of anything that would keep even a shadow of suspicion away from this girl to whose fascinating charm I had already fallen a victim.
Nor was I the only one in the room who dreaded the mere thought of Miss Lloyds connection with this horrible matter.
Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Porter were, I could see, greatly concerned lest some mistaken suspicion should indicate any doubt of the girl. I could see by their kindly glances that she was a favorite, and was absolutely free from suspicion in their minds.
Mr. Orville had not quite the same attitude. Though he looked at Miss Lloyd admiringly, I felt sure he was alertly ready to pounce upon anything that might seem to connect her with a guilty knowledge of this crime.
Gregory Halls attitude was inexplicable, and I concluded I had yet much to learn about that young man. He looked at Miss Lloyd critically, and though his glance could not be called quite unsympathetic, yet it showed no definite sympathy. He seemed to be coldly weighing her in his own mental balance, and he seemed to await whatever she might be about to say with the impartial air of a disinterested judge. Though a stranger myself, my heart ached for the young woman who was placed so suddenly in such a painful position, but Gregory Hall apparently lacked any personal interest in the case.
I felt sure this was not true, that he was not really so unconcerned as he appeared; but I could not guess why he chose to assume an impassive mask.
Miss Lloyd had not risen as it was not required of her, and she sat expectant, but with no sign of nervousness. Mrs. Pierce, her companion, was simply quivering with agitation. Now and again she would touch Miss Lloyds shoulder or hand, or whisper a word of encouragement, or perhaps wring her own hands in futile despair.
Of course these demonstrations were of little avail, nor did it seem as if Florence Lloyd needed assistance or support.
She gave the impression not only of general capability in managing her own affairs, but of a special strength in an emergency.
And an emergency it was; for though the two before-mentioned jurors, who had been intimate friends of her uncle, were doubtless in sympathy with Miss Lloyd, and though the coroner was kindly disposed toward her, yet the other jurors took little pains to conceal their suspicious attitude, and as for Mr. Parmalee, he was fairly eager with anticipation of the revelations about to come.
Your name? said the corner briefly, as if conquering his own sympathy by an unnecessarily formal tone.
Florence Lloyd, was the answer.
Your position in this house?
I am the niece of Mrs. Joseph Crawford, who died many years ago. Since her death I have lived with Mr. Crawford, occupying in every respect the position of his daughter, though not legally adopted as such.
Mr. Crawford was always kind to you?
More than kind. He was generous and indulgent, and, though not of an affectionate nature, he was always courteous and gentle.
Will you tell us of the last time you saw him alive?
Miss Lloyd hesitated. She showed no embarrassment, no trepidation; she merely seemed to be thinking.
Her gaze slowly wandered over the faces of the servants, Mrs. Pierce, Mr. Philip Crawford, the jurors, and, lastly, dwelt for a moment on the now anxious, worried countenance of Gregory Hall.
Then she said slowly, but in an even, unemotional voice: It was last night at dinner. After dinner was over, my uncle went out, and before he returned I had gone to my room.
Was there anything unusual about his appearance or demeanor at dinner-time?
No; I noticed nothing of the sort.
Was he troubled or annoyed about any matter, that you know of?
He was annoyed about one matter that has been annoying him for some time: that is, my engagement to Mr. Hall.
Apparently this was the answer the coroner had expected, for he nodded his head in a satisfied way.
The jurors, too, exchanged intelligent glances, and I realized that the acquaintances of the Crawfords were well informed as to Miss Lloyds romance.
He did not approve of that engagement? went on the coroner, though he seemed to be stating a fact, rather than asking a question.
He did not, returned Miss Lloyd, and her color rose as she observed the intense interest manifest among her hearers.
And the subject was discussed at the dinner table?
It was.
What was the tenor of the conversation?
To the effect that I must break the engagement.
Which you refused to do?
I did.
Her cheeks were scarlet now, but a determined note had crept into her voice, and she looked at her betrothed husband with an air of affectionate pride that, it seemed to me, ought to lift any man into the seventh heaven. But I noted Mr. Halls expression with surprise. Instead of gazing adoringly at this girl who was thus publicly proving her devotion to him, he sat with eyes cast down, and frowningpositively frowningwhile his fingers played nervously with his watch-chain.
Surely this case required my closest attention, for I place far more confidence in deductions from facial expression and tones of the voice, than from the discovery of small, inanimate objects.
And if I chose to deduce from facial expressions I had ample scope in the countenances of these two people.
I was particularly anxious not to jump at an unwarrantable conclusion, but the conviction was forced upon me then and there that these two people knew more about the crime than they expected to tell. I certainly did not suspect either of them to be touched with guilt, but I was equally sure that they were not ingenuous in their testimony.