suspected, I hate to hint a suspicion of one who may be equally innocent. But does it not seem to you there are some questions to be answered concerning Miss Dupuy?" Fessenden sat thinking for a long time. Surely these two men were just and even generous, and unwilling to suspect without cause.
"There are points to be explained," said Rob slowly; "and, Schuyler, since we are talking frankly, I must ask you this: do you know that Miss Dupuy is very much in love with you?"
"How absurd! That cannot be. Why, I've scarcely ever spoken to the girl."
"That doesn't matter—the fact remains. Now, you know she wrote that paper which stated that she loved S., but he did not love her. That initial designated yourself, and, because of this unfortunate attachment, Cicely was of course jealous, or rather envious, of Madeleine. I have had an interview with Miss Dupuy, in which she gave me much more information about herself than she thought she did, and one of the facts I discovered—from what she didn't say, rather than what she did—was her hopeless infatuation for you."
"It's difficult to believe this, but now that you tell me it is true, I can look back to some episodes which seem to indicate it. But I cannot think it would lead to such desperate results."
"There's one thing certain: when we do find the criminal it will have to be somebody we never would have dreamed of; for if there were any probable person we would suspect him already. Now, merely for the sake of argument, let us see if Cicely did not have 'exclusive opportunity' as well as yourself. Remember she was the last one who saw Miss Van Norman alive. I mean, so far as we have had any witness or evidence. This fact in itself is always a matter for investigation. And granting the fact of two women, both in love with you, one about to marry you, and the other perhaps insanely jealous; a weapon at hand, no one else astir in the house— is there not at least occasion for inquiry?"
Carleton looked aghast. He took up the story, and in a low voice said, "I can add to that. When I came in, as Hunt has testified, Cicely was leaning over the banister, still fully dressed. When I cried out for help fifteen minutes later, Cicely was the first to run downstairs. She asked no questions, she did not look toward the library, she glared straight at me with an indescribable expression of fear and horror. I cannot explain her attitude at that moment, but if this dreadful thing we have dared to think of could be true, it would perhaps be a reason."
"And then, you know, she tried to get possession secretly of that slip of paper, after it had served its purpose."
"Yes, and also after you, by clever observation, had discovered that she wrote it, and not Madeleine."
"Their writing is strangely alike."
"Yes; even I was deceived, and I have seen much of Madeleine's writing. Fessenden—this is an awful thing to hint—but do you suppose some of the notes I have had purporting to be from Miss Van Norman could have been written by Miss Dupuy?"
"Why not? Several people have said the secretary often wrote notes purporting to be from the mistress."
"Oh, yes; formal society notes. But I don't mean that. I mean, do you suppose Cicely could have written of her own accord—even unknown to Madeleine—as if—as if, you know, it were Madeleine herself writing?"
"Oh, on purpose to deceive you!"
"Yes, on purpose to deceive me. It could easily be done. I've seen so much of both their penmanship, and I never noticed it especially. I've always taken it for granted that a purely personal note was written by Madeleine herself. But now—I wonder."
"Do you mean notes of importance?"
"I mean notes that annoyed me. Notes that voluntarily referred to her going driving or walking with Willard, when there was no real reason for her referring to it Could it be that Cicely—bah! I cannot say it of any woman!"
"I see your point; and it is more than possible that Miss Dupuy, knowing of the strained relations between you and Miss Van Norman, might have done anything she could to widen the breach. It would be easy, as she wrote so much of the correspondence, to do this unnoticed."
"Yes, that's what I mean. Often Madeleine's notes would contain a gratuitous bit of information about her and Willard, and though she frequently teased me when we were together, I was surprised at her writing these things. I feel sure now that sometimes, at least, they were the work of Miss Dupuy. I can't describe it exactly, but that would explain lots of things otherwise mysterious."
"This is getting beyond us," said Rob, with a quick sigh. "I think it my duty to report this to the coroner and to Detective Fairbanks, who is officially on the case. I thought I liked detective work, but I don't. It leads one toward too dreadful conclusions. Will you go with me, Carleton? I shall go at once to Mr. Benson."
"No, I think it would be better for you to go alone. Remember I am practically an accused man, and my word would be of little weight. Moreover, you are a lawyer, and it is your right and duty to make these things known. But unless forced to do so, I do not wish to testify against Miss Dupuy." Remembering the girl's attitude toward Carleton, Rob could not wonder at this, and he went off alone to the coroner's.
Chapter XX.
Cicely's Flight
Mr. Benson was astounded at the turn affairs had taken; but though it had seemed to him that all the evidence had pointed toward Carleton's guilt, he was really relieved to find another outlet for his suspicions. He listened attentively to what Fessenden said, and Rob was careful to express no opinion, but merely to state such facts as he knew in support of this new theory:
Detective Fairbanks was sent for, and he, too, listened eagerly to the latest developments.
It seemed to Rob that Mr. Fairbanks was rather pleased than otherwise to turn the trend of suspicion in another direction. And this was true, for though the detective felt a natural reluctance to suspect a woman, he had dreaded all along lest Carleton should be looked upon as a criminal merely because there was no one else to be considered. And Mr. Fairbanks's quick mind realized that if there were two suspects, there yet might be three, or more, and Schuyler Carleton would at least have a fair chance.
All things concerned seemed to have taken on a new interest, and Mr. Fairbanks proposed to begin investigations at once.
"But I don't see," he complained, "why Mr. Carleton so foolishly concealed that reliquary business. Why didn't he explain that at once?"
"Carleton is a peculiar nature," said Rob. "He is shrinkingly sensitive about his private affairs, and, being innocent, he had no fear at first that even suspicion would rest upon him, so he saw no reason to tell about what would have been looked upon as a silly superstition. Had he been brought to trial, he would doubtless have made a clean breast of the matter. He is a strange man, any way; very self-contained, abnormally sensitive, and not naturally frank. But if freed from suspicion he will be more approachable, and may yet be of help to us in our search."
"Of course, though," said Mr. Fairbanks thoughtfully, "you must realize that to a disinterested observer this affair of Mr. Carleton and Miss Burt does not help to turn suspicion away from him."
"I do realize that," said Rob; "but to an interested observer it looks different. Why, if Mr. Carleton were the guilty man, he surely would not tell me so frankly the story of his interest in Miss Burt."
This was certainly true, and Mr. Fairbanks agreed to it.
Rob had been obliged to tell the detective the facts of the case, though dilating as little as possible on Carleton's private affairs.
"At any rate," said Mr. Fairbanks, "we will not consider Mr. Carleton for the present, but turn toward the new trail, and it may lead us, at least, in the right direction. If Miss Dupuy is innocent, our investigations can do her no harm, and if she knows more than she has told, we may be able to learn something of importance. But she is of such a hysterical nature, it is difficult to hold a satisfactory conversation with her."
"Perhaps