look at that lovely face without a pleasant recognition of some sort? And then he folded his arms and began to think hard. Yet there was little food for coherent thought.
Granting the logical deduction from the absence of any stain on Miss Van Norman's hands, there was, as yet, not the slightest indication of any direction in which to look for the dastard who had done the deed.
Schuyler Carleton showed no emotion, but his white face seemed to take on one more degree of horror and misery. Tom Willard looked blankly amazed, and Mrs. Markham began on a new one of her successive crying spells. Miss Morton sat bolt upright and placidly smoothed the gray silk folds of her gown, while her face wore a decided "I told you so" expression, though she hadn't told them anything of the sort.
But as Fessenden watched her—the rows of seats were slightly horseshoed, and he could see her side face well—he noticed that she was really trembling all over, and that her placidity of face was without doubt assumed for effect. He could not see her eyes, but he was positive that only a strong fear or terror of something could explain her admirably suppressed agitation.
The behavior of Cicely Dupuy was perhaps the most extraordinary. She flew into a fit of violent hysterics, and had to be taken from the room. Marie followed her, as it had always been part of the French maid's duty to attend Miss Dupuy upon occasion as well as Miss Van Norman.
"In view of this state of affairs," went on the coroner, when quiet had been restored after Cicely's departure, "it becomes necessary to make an investigation of the case. We have absolutely no evidence, and no real reason to suspect foul play, yet since there is the merest possibility that the death was not a suicide, it becomes my duty to look further into the matter. I have been told that Miss Van Norman had expressed a sort of general fear, that she might some day be impelled to turn this dagger upon herself. But that is a peculiar mental obsession that affects many people at sight of a sharp-pointed or cutting instrument, and is by no means a proof that she did do this thing. But quite aside from the temptation of the glittering steel, we have Miss Van Norman's written confession that she at least contemplated taking her own life, and ascribing a reason therefor. In further consideration, then, of this written paper, of which you all know the contents, can any of you tell me of any fact or quote any words spoken by Miss Van Norman that would corroborate or amplify the statement of this despairing message?"
As Mr. Benson spoke, he held in his hand the written paper that had been found on the library table. It was indeed unnecessary to read it aloud, for every one present knew its contents by heart.
But nobody responded to the coroner's question. Mr. Carleton looked mutely helpless, Tom Willard looked honestly perplexed, and yet many of those present believed that both these men knew the sad secret of Madeleine's life, and understood definitely the written message.
Again Mr. Benson earnestly requested that any one knowing the least fact, however trivial, regarding the matter, would mention it.
Then Mrs. Markham spoke.
"I can tell you nothing but my own surmise," she said; "I know nothing for certain, but I have reason to believe that Madeleine Van Norman had a deep sorrow,—such a one as would impel her to write that statement, and to act in accordance with it."
"That is what I wished to know," said Coroner Benson; "it is not necessary for you to detail the nature of her sorrow, or even to hint at it further, but the assurance that the message is in accordance with Miss Van Norman's mental attitude goes far toward convincing me that her death is the outcome of that written declaration."
"I know, too," volunteered Kitty French, "that Madeleine meant every word she wrote there. She was miserable, and for the very reason that she herself stated!"
Mr. Benson pinched his glasses more firmly on his nose, and turned his gaze slowly toward Miss French.
Kitty had spoken impulsively, and perhaps too directly, but, though embarrassed at the sensation she had caused, she showed no desire to retract her statements.
"I am told," said the coroner, his voice ringing out clearly in the strange silence that had fallen on the room, "that the initial on this paper designates Mr. Schuyler Carleton. I must therefore ask Mr. Carleton if he can explain the reference to himself."
"I cannot," said Schuyler Carleton, and only the intense silence allowed his low whisper to be heard. "Miss Van Norman was my affianced wife. We were to have been married to-day. Those two facts, I think, prove the existence of our mutual love. The paper is to me inexplicable."
Tom Willard looked at the speaker with an expression of frank unbelief, and, indeed, most of the auditors' faces betrayed incredulity.
Even with no previous reason to imagine that Carleton did not love Madeleine, the tragic message proved it beyond all possible doubt,—and yet it was but natural for the man to deny it.
Doctor Hills spoke next.
"I think, Coroner Benson," he said, as he rose to his feet, "we are missing the point. If Miss Van Norman took her life in fulfilment of her own decision, the reasons that brought about that decision are not a matter for our consideration. It is for us to decide whether she did or did not bring about her own death, and as a mode of procedure may I suggest this? Doctor Leonard and myself hold, that, in view of the absence of any stain on Miss Van Norman's hands, she could not have handled the stained dagger that killed her. A refutation of this opinion would be to explain how she could have done the deed and left no trace on her fingers. Unless this can be shown, I think we can not call it a suicide."
Although nothing would have induced him to admit it, Coroner Benson was greatly accommodated by this suggestion, and immediately adopting it as his own promulgation, he repeated it almost exactly word for word, as his official dictum.
"And so," he concluded, "as I have now explained, unless a theory can be offered on this point, we must agree that Miss Van Norman's unfortunate death was not by her own hand."
Robert Fessenden arose.
"I have no theory," he said; "I have no argument to offer. But I am sure we all wish to discover the truth by means of any light that any of us may throw on the mystery. And I want to say that in my opinion the absence of blood on the hands, though it indicates, does not positively prove, that the weapon was held by another than the victim. Might it not be that, taking the dagger from the table, clean as of course it was, Miss Van Norman turned it upon herself, and then, withdrawing it, let it drop to the floor, where it subsequently became blood-stained, as did the rug and her own gown?"
The two doctors listened intently. It was characteristic of both that though Doctor Hills had shown no elation when he had convinced Doctor Leonard of his mistake the night before, yet now Doctor Leonard could not repress a gleam of triumph in his eyes as he turned to Doctor Hills.
"It is possible," said Mr. Benson, with a cautiously dubious air, though really the theory struck him as extremely probable, and he wished he had advanced it himself.
Doctor Hills looked thoughtful, and then, as nobody else spoke, he observed:
"Mr. Carleton might perhaps judge of that point. As he first discovered the dagger, and picked it up from the floor, he can perhaps say if it lay in or near the stains on the carpet."
Everybody looked at Schuyler Carleton. But the man had reached the limit of his endurance.
"I don't know!" he exclaimed, covering his white face with his hands, as if to shut out the awful memory. "Do you suppose I noticed such details?" he cried, looking up again. "I picked up the dagger, scarce knowing that I did it! It was almost an unconscious act. I was stunned, dazed, at what I saw before me, and I know nothing of the dagger or its blood-stains!"
Truly, the man was almost frenzied, and out of consideration for his perturbed state, the coroner asked him no more questions just then.
"It seems to me," observed Rob Fessenden, "that the nature or shape of the stains on the dagger handle might determine this point. If they appear to be finger-marks, the weapon must have been held by some other hand. If merely stains, as from the floor, they might be considered to strengthen Doctor Hill's theory."
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