I began, "this must be settled here and now between us. Either you must tell me what I want to know, or you must be taken before the district attorney, and be made to tell him. I have proved to my own satisfaction that the rose petals in the office were not from the flower you wore. Therefore I conclude that you did not go into the office that night, but as you passed the window you did see someone in there with Mr. Crawford. The hour was later than Mr. Porter's visit, for he had already gone home, and Lambert had locked the front door and gone to bed. You came in later, and what you saw, or whom you saw through the office window so surprised you, or interested you, that you paused to look in, and there you dropped your transfer."
Though Louis didn't speak, I could see at once that I was on the right track at last. The man was shielding somebody. He was unwilling to tell what he had seen, lest it inculpate someone. Could it be Gregory Hall? If Hall had come out on a late train, and Louis had seen him there, he might, perhaps under Hall's coercion, be keeping the fact secret. Again, if a strange woman with the gold bag had been in the office, that also would have attracted Louis's attention. Again, and here my heart almost stopped beating, could he have seen Florence Lloyd in there? But a second thought put me at ease again. Surely to have seen Florence in there would have been so usual and natural a sight that it could not have caused him anxiety. And yet, again, for him to have seen Florence in her uncle's office, would have proved to him that the story she told at the inquest was false. I must get out of him the knowledge he possessed, if I had to resort to a sort of third degree. But I might manage it by adroit questioning.
"I quite understand, Louis, that you are shielding some person. But let me tell you that it is useless. It is much wiser for you to tell me all you know, and then I can go to work intelligently to find the man who murdered Mr. Crawford. You want me to find him, do you not?"
Louis seemed to have found his voice again. "Yes, sir, of course he must be found. Of course I want him found,—the miscreant, the villain! but, Mr. Burroughs, sir, what I have see in the office makes nothing to your search. I simply see Mr. Crawford alive and well. And I pass by. That fool girl Elsa, she tell you that I pass by, so I may say so. But I see nothing in the office to alarm me, and if I drop my transfer there, it is but because I think of him as no consequence, and I let him go."
"Louis," and I looked him straight in the eye, "all that sounds straightforward and true. But, if you saw nothing in the office to surprise or alarm you, why did you at first deny having passed by the office at all?"
The man had no answer for this. He was not ingenious in inventing falsehood, and he stood looking helpless and despairing. I perceived I should have to go on with my questioning.
"Was it a man or a woman you saw in there with Mr. Crawford?"
"I see nobody, sir, nobody but my master."
That wouldn't do, then. As long as I asked him direct questions he could answer falsely. I must trip him up in some roundabout way.
"Yes," I said pleasantly, "I understand that. And what was Mr. Crawford doing?"
"He sat at his desk;" and Louis spoke slowly, and picked his words with care.
"Was he writing?"
"No; that is, yes, sir, he was writing."
I now knew he was not writing, for the truth had slipped out before the man could frame up his lie. I believed I was going to learn something at last, if I could make the man tell. Surely the testimony of one who saw Joseph Crawford late that night was of value, and though that testimony was difficult to obtain, it was well worth the effort.
"And was Mr. Hall at his desk also?"
Louis stared at me. "Mr. Hall, he was in New York that night." This was said so simply and unpremeditatedly, that I was absolutely certain it was not Hall whom Louis had seen there.
"Oh, yes, of course, so he was," I said lightly; "and Mr. Crawford was writing, was he?"
"Yes, sir," spoken with the dogged scowl which I was beginning to learn always accompanied Louis's untruthful statements.
And now I decided to put my worst fear to the test and have it over with. It must be done, and I felt sure I could do it, but oh, how I dreaded it!
"Did Mr. Crawford look up or see you?"
"No, sir."
"And didn't Miss Florence see you, either?"
"No, sir."
It was out. The mere fact that Louis answered that question so calmly and unconsciously proved he was telling the truth. But what a truth! for it told me at the same time that Florence Lloyd was in the office with her uncle, that Louis had seen her, but that she had not seen him. I had learned the truth from my reading of the man's expression and demeanor, and though it made my heart sink, I didn't for a moment doubt that it was the truth.
Of course Louis realized the next instant what he had done, and again he began his stammering denials. "Of course, Miss Lloyd do not see me for she is not there. How can she see me, then? I tell you my master was alone!"
Had I been the least uncertain, this would have convinced me that I was right. For Louis's voice rose almost to a shriek, so angry was he with himself for having made the slip.
"Give it up, Louis," I said; "you have let out the truth, now be quiet. You couldn't help it, man, you were bound to trip yourself up sooner or later. You put up a good fight for Miss Florence, and now that I understand why you told your falsehoods, I can't help admiring your chivalry. You saw Miss Lloyd there that evening, you heard her next day at the inquest deny having been in the office in the evening. So, in a way, it was very commendable on your part to avoid contradicting her testimonies, with your own. But you are not clever enough, Louis, to carry out that deceit to the end. And now that you have admitted that you saw Miss Lloyd there, you can best help her cause, and best help me to help her cause, by telling me all about it. For rest assured, Louis, that I am quite as anxious to prove Miss Lloyd's innocence as you can possibly be, and the only way to accomplish that end, is to learn as much of the truth as I possibly can. Now, tell me what she was doing."
"Only talking to her uncle, sir." Louis had the air of a defeated man. He had tried to shield Miss Lloyd's name and had failed. Now he spoke sullenly, and as if his whole cause were lost.
"And Mr. Crawford was talking to her?"
"Yes, sir."
"He was not writing, then?"
"No, sir."
"Did they seem to be having an amicable conversation?"
Louis hesitated, and his hesitation was sufficient answer.
"Never mind," I said, "you need not tell me more. In fact, I would prefer to get the rest of the story from Miss Lloyd, herself."
Louis looked startled. "Don't tell Miss Lloyd I told you this," he begged; "I have try very hard not to tell you."
"I know you tried hard, Louis, not to tell me, and it was not your fault that I wrung the truth from you. I will not tell Miss Lloyd that you told me, unless it should become necessary, and I do not think it will. Go away now, Louis, and do not discuss this matter with anybody at all. And, also, do not think for a moment that you have been disloyal in telling me that you saw Miss Lloyd. As I say, you couldn't help it. I should simply have kept at you until I made you tell, so you need not blame yourself in the matter at all."
Louis went away, and though I could see that he believed what I said, he had a dejected air, and I couldn't help feeling sorry for the man who had so inadvertently given me the knowledge that must be used against the beautiful girl who had herself given untrue testimony.
Chapter XIII.
Miss Lloyd's Confidence
After Louis left me, I felt as if a dead weight had fallen