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  XV

  THE MISSING POCKET

  The excitement was intense. To see suspicion thus suddenly, and, Imust say, deftly, shifted from the man hitherto regarded guilty to onewhom nobody had seemed inclined to doubt, was to experience an emotionof no ordinary nature. I was so affected by it that I quite forgotmyself, and stared first at the vest thus recognised by its owner,then at the witness, who was calmly awaiting an opportunity to speak,with deep bewilderment only cut short by the coroner's abrupt words:

  "Where did you find this vest I now hold up before you?"

  "In the closet of the dressing-room adjoining the apartment where Mr.George Gillespie is said to sleep."

  "Does this dressing-room communicate with the hall or with any otherroom than the said Mr. Gillespie's sleeping apartment?"

  "No."

  "Is it a large room or a small one; a mere closet or a place bigenough for a man to turn about in with ease and do such a thing, say,as change his vest without being seen too plainly by persons in theadjoining room?"

  "It is a six-by-ten room, sir. If anyone chose to do what you suggestin the especial corner where the wardrobe stands, he certainly wouldrun little chance of being seen by anyone sitting near the fireplaceof the sleeping apartment."

  "Why do you speak of the fireplace?"

  "Because the evidences are strong that this was where Mr. Gillespie'sthree friends were sitting when he came up from below, with thehalf-empty bottle of sherry in his hands."

  "What evidences do you allude to?"

  "The fact that we found four chairs standing there about a tablestrewn with cards. I did not see the gentlemen in their seats."

  "But you did see this vest hanging on one of the nails in thewardrobe?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "A near nail or a remote one?"

  "The remotest in the closet."

  "Very good. _Now, what is the matter with this vest?_"

  "It lacks a pocket."

  Ah! So that was it!

  The coroner turned the vest in his hand.

  "What pocket?"

  "The lower right-hand one, the one where a gentleman usually carries apen, knife, or pencil."

  "What has happened to it? How could a pocket be lost from a vest?"

  "It has been cut out."

  "Cut out!"

  "Yes, sir; we found an open knife lying on the dresser, and if youwill look again at the vest you will see that the missing pocket wasslit from it with a very hasty jerk."

  "I avow----" shouted the voice of the owner from the seats behind.

  But the infuriated man who thus attempted to speak was quicklysilenced.

  "You will be allowed to explain later," remonstrated the coroner. "Atpresent we are listening to Mr. Sweetwater. Witness, what course didyou pursue after coming upon this vest?"

  "I endeavoured to ascertain if its owner had gone into hisdressing-room after coming up from the room below."

  Here we heard sobs; but they were only a child's, and the inquiry wenton.

  "Did you succeed?"

  "I request you to call up Mr. James Baxter as a more direct witness."

  His request being complied with, Mr. James Baxter came forward, andexpectancy rose to fever-point. He was one of the three gentlemenwhose voices I had heard over the cards that were being played inGeorge Gillespie's room during the hour his father had succumbed topoison. I recognised him at once from his burly figure and weak voice;having noticed this eccentricity at our first meeting. He was notsober then, but he was very sober now, and the effect he produced was,on the whole, favourable.

  Glancing at George as if in apology, and receiving a tiger's glare inreturn, he waited with a certain _sang froid_ for the inevitablequestion. It came quickly and with a peremptoriness which showed thatthe coroner now felt himself on safe ground.

  "Where were you sitting when George Gillespie left you to godownstairs for wine?"

  "At the card-table near the fire, with my face towards thedressing-room at the other end of the room."

  "Had wine been passed then, or any spirituous liquors?"

  "No."

  "You were all in a perfectly sober condition therefore?"

  "Tolerably so. Two of us had had dinner at Delmonico's, but I had beendining at home and was dry. That is why Mr. Gillespie went down forthe wine."

  "What did you do while he was downstairs?"

  "Bet on the Jack about to be turned up."

  "How much money passed?"

  "Oh, ten dollars or so."

  "And when your host returned, what did you do?"

  "I guess we drank."

  "Did he drink too?"

  "I did not notice. He put the bottle down and went into hisdressing-room. When he came back he stood a minute by the fire, thenhe sat down. He may have drank then. I didn't observe."

  "What did he do at the fire? Was he warming himself? It was not a coldnight."

  "I don't know what he did. I saw a sudden burst of flame, but that wasall. I was busy dealing the cards."

  "You saw a flame shoot up. Was there wood or coal in the grate?"

  "Deuce take me if I remember. I wasn't thinking of the fire. I onlyknew we were roasting hot and more than once made some movementtowards shifting the table further off, but we got too interested inthe cards to bother about it."

  "It must have been a lively game. Were you too interested in shufflingand dealing to notice why Mr. Gillespie went to his dressing-room?"

  "Yes, I never thought anything about it."

  "You didn't watch him, then?"

  "No."

  "Cannot say whether or not he went towards his wardrobe?"

  "No."

  "Or, perhaps, whether the door between you was closed or not?"

  "He didn't close the door; I should have noticed that."

  "How long was he in that room?"

  "I can't say. Long enough for me to drink my wine and shuffle thecards. Before I had dealt them he had set down."

  "One question more. Can you truthfully assert he did not cross hisdressing-room before your eyes, change his vest in the corner wherethe wardrobe stands, and come back in the same coat, but with adifferent vest on?"

  "No. I cannot even say what kind of clothes he wore that night. I amno dude, and all vests, so long as they are not striped or plaid, arealike to me."

  This remark, which was facetious only from the humorous contrastbetween the small and highpitched voice and the large and stalwartfigure of the speaker, caused a smile to appear on several faces. Butthis expression was soon replaced by one more befitting the occasion,as a change in witnesses once more occurred and Hewson appeared uponthe stand. This old servant of the family was loath to look at thevest held out before him, and seemed desirous of denying that he hadnoticed what his young master had worn at dinner that night. But hisprecision and habitual attention to details were too well known forhim to succeed in any evasion, and he was forced to declare that thevest with the thumb mark on the lining was not the one Mr. George hadworn at dinner.

  This was a fatal admission and George's case was looking very black,when a sudden cry mingled with a burst of childish sobs was heard inthe room, and little Claire, breaking away from the restraining handsthat sought to hold her back, rushed out in face of coroner and jury,and stretching out her arms to her father, cried:

  "Uncle George didn't cut the pocket out of his vest. I did. I--Iwanted a little bag for my beads, and Hetty wouldn't make me one; so Istole into uncle's room and snipped out the little pocket. It wasbefore grandpa died, and I'm so--so sorry."

  She fell into her father's arms and was crushed, nay, strained againstthat father's breast. Never had a child's naughtiness brought a moreperfect joy; while from floor to ceiling of the great room, cries andshouts of relief went up from the surcharged hearts of the spectatorswhich for once the coroner failed to rebuke.

  Possibly he was as much touched as anyone. There was so much naturalimpulse, so much spontaneity in the child's words and actions, that noone coul
d doubt her candour or the fact that this outburst had beenprompted by her own contrition.

  Even Mr. Gryce accepted the explanation without demur, though he musthave realised that it demolished at a blow the case he had socarefully reared against the oldest son of Mr. Gillespie. He was evenseen to smile benignantly and with a kind of soothing tenderness onthe knob of his umbrella before he rested his chin upon it in quietcontemplation.

  Hope, who had made an impetuous movement as the child flew by her, lether eye fall for a moment on the curly head almost nestled out ofsight in the paternal embrace. Then with a glance at George, scarcelylong enough to note the relief this childish hand had brought him, shelet her eye travel slowly on to Alfred, who, biting his lips to keepdown the flush which these rapidly succeeding events had called up,did not catch her look, precious as it doubtless would have been tohim.

  Then and not till then did her gaze seek mine.

  Alas! this recognition of my interest, so eagerly anticipated and sopatiently waited for, was inspired by no deeper sentiment than adesire to gather my present idea of the situation and what was now tobe expected from the baffled officials.

  If my answering look conveyed undue confidence in the outcome, I hadcertainly sufficient excuse for it in the attitude of those about me.The explanation which George was able to give of the causes which hadled to his changing his vest on the evening in question were receivedwith respect, if not with favour, and as it was natural enough to gaincredence, enthusiasm in his regard rose to such a pitch that itpresently became evident that it would be next to impossible to pushthe case farther before this jury.

  Indeed, the reaction was so strong that after some futile attempts toreopen the inquiry on fresh lines, the coroner finally gave in andcalled for the jury's verdict.

  It was, as might be expected:

  "Death from the effects of prussic acid, administered by some handunknown."