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for even the smallest stake. Furthermore,

Mr. Darrow’s physician will testify that Mr. Darrow was confined

to his bed from the 25th day of February to the 18th day of March,

and that he visited him during that time at least once, and oftener

twice, every day.

 

“Again; M. Latour asserts that he never saw M. Godin till the day

of his arrest, and M. Godin asserts that he never entered M. Latour’s

rooms until that day. I have a photograph and here a phonographic

record. The picture shows M. Latour’s rooms with that gentleman and

M. Godin sitting at a table and evidently engaged in earnest

conversation. This cylinder is a record of a very interesting

portion of that conversation - M. Godin will please not leave the

room!”

 

This last was said as M. Godin started toward the door. The officer

to whom Jenkins had recently spoken laid his hand upon the detective

and detained him. “We may need M. Godin,” Maitland continued, “to

explain things to us.

 

“I invite your attention to the fact that M. Godin has testified

that he was assisted in his search for Mr. Darrow’s murderer by

certain library slips which he saw M. Latour make out in two

different names. He has also testified that he did not know even

the names of any of the books procured on these slips, and that

one of them, entitled ‘Poisons, Their Effects and Detection,’ he

not only never read, but never even heard of. I shall show you

that all of these books were procured with M. Godin’s knowledge,

and that most of them were read by him. I shall prove to you

beyond a doubt that he has not only heard of this particular work

on poisons, but that he has read it and placed his unmistakable

signature on page 469 thereof beside the identical paragraph which

suggested to Mr. Darrow’s murderer the manner of his assassination!”

M. Godin started as if he had been stabbed, but quickly regained

his self-control as Maitland continued: “Here is the volume in

question. You will please note the thumbmark in the margin of page

469. There is but one thumb in the world that could have made that

mark, and that is the thumb you have seen register itself upon this

letter. It is also the thumb that made this paint smutch upon this

slip of glass.”

 

All eyes were turned upon M. Godin. He was very pale, yet his jaw

was firmly set and something akin to a defiant smile played about

his handsome mouth. To say that the audience was amazed is to convey

no adequate idea of their real condition. We felt prepared for

anything. I almost feared lest some sudden turn in the case might

cast suspicion upon myself, or even Maitland. Without apparently

noticing M. Godin’s discomfiture, George continued:

 

“M. Godin has testified that he sometimes plays cards, but only for

a small stake - just enough, he says, to make it interesting. I

shall show you that he is a professional gambler as well as a

detective.

 

“The morning after the murder was committed I made a most careful

examination of the premises, particularly of the grounds near the

eastern window. As the result of my observations, I informed Miss

Darrow that I had reason to believe that her father had been murdered

by a person who had some good motive for concealing his footprints,

and who also had a halting gait. The weight of this person I was

able to estimate at not far from one hundred and thirty-five pounds,

and his height as about five feet and five inches. I also stated it

as my opinion that the person who did the deed had the habit of

biting his finger nails, and a particular reason for sparing the

nail of the little finger and permitting it to grow to an abnormal

length. This was not guesswork on my part, for in the soft soil

beneath the eastern window I found a perfect impression of a closed

hand. Here is the cast of that hand. Look well at it. Notice the

wart upon the upper joint of the thumb, and the crook in the third

finger where it has evidently been broken. M. Godin says he never

entered the yard of the Darrow estate, except on the night of the

murder in company with Messrs. Osborne and Allen, and that then he

merely passed up and down the front walk on his way to and from the

house, yet the paint-mark on this slip of glass was made by his

thumb, and the glass itself was cut by me from the eastern window

of the Darrow house - the window through which the murder was

committed. This plaster cast was taken from an impression in the

soil beneath the same window on the morning after the murder. The

hand is the hand of M. Godin. You will note that one of this

gentleman’s feet is deformed and that he habitually halts in his

walk.”

 

We all glanced at M. Godin to verify these assertions, but that

gentleman folded his arms in a way to conceal his hands and thrust

his feet out of sight beneath the chair in front of him, while he

smiled at us with the utmost apparent good nature. He would be

game to the last, there was no doubt of that.

 

Maitland recalled our attention by saying:

 

“Officer, you will please arrest M. Godin!”

 

An excited whisper was heard from every corner, and many were the

half-audible comments that were broken off by the imperative fall

of the crier’s gavel. So tense had been the strain that it was some

time before complete order could be restored. When it was again

quiet Maitland continued:

 

“Your Honour and Gentlemen of the Jury: We will rest our case here

for to-day. To-morrow, or rather on Monday, we shall show the

strange influence which M. Godin exercised over M. Latour, as well

as M. Latour’s reasons for his confession. We shall endeavour to

make clear to you how M. Latour was actually led to believe he had

murdered John Darrow, and how he was bribed to confess a crime=20

committed by another. Of the hypnotic power of M. Godin over M.

Latour I have indisputable proof, though we shall see that M. Godin

by no means relied wholly upon this power. We shall show you also

that sufficient time elapsed to enable M. Godin, by great skill

and celerity, to make away with the evidences of his guilt in time

to enable him to be present with Messrs. Osborne and Allen at the

examination. In short, we shall unravel before you a crime which,

for cleverness of conception and adroitness of execution, has never

been equalled in the history of this community.”

 

Maitland having thus concluded his remarks by dropping into a

courteous plural in deference to Mr. Jenkins, the court adjourned

until Monday, and I left Gwen in Maitland’s charge while I hurried

home, fearful lest I should not be the first to bring to Jeannette

the glad news of her father’s innocence, for I had not the slightest

doubt of Maitland’s ability to prove conclusively all he had

undertaken.

 

I need not describe to you my interview with Jeannette. There are

things concerning it which, even at this late day, when their

roseate hue glows but dimly in the blue retrospect of the past, - it

would seem sacrilege for me to mention to another. Believe me, I am

perfectly aware of your inquisitive nature, and I know that this

omission may nettle you. Charge it all up, then, to the perversity

of a bachelor in the throes of his first, last, and only love

experience. You must see that such things cannot be conveyed to

another with anything like their real significance. Were I to say

I was carried beyond myself by her protestations of gratitude until,

in a delirium of joy, I seized her in my arms and covered her with

kisses, do you for a moment fancy you could appreciate my feelings?

Do you imagine that the little tingle of sympathy which you might

experience were I to say that, instead of pushing me from her, I

felt her clasp tighten about me, - would tell you anything of the

great torrent of hot blood that deluged my heart as she lay there

in my arms, quivering ecstatically at every kiss? No! a thousand

times no! Therefore have I thought best to say nothing about it.

Our love can keep its own secrets. - But alas! this was long ago,

and as I sit here alone writing this to you, I cannot but wonder,

with a heavy sense of ever-present longing, where on this great

earth Jeannette - ‘my Jeannette,’ I have learned to call her - is

now. You see a bachelor’s love-affair is a serious thing, and years

cannot always efface it. But to return to the past:

 

Jeannette, I think, was not more pleased than Gwen at the turn

affairs had taken. Indeed, so exuberant was Gwen in her quiet way

that I marvelled much at the change in her, so much, indeed, that

finally I determined to question Alice about it.

 

“I can understand,” I said to her, “why Gwen, on account of her

sympathy and love for Jeannette, should be glad that M. Latour is

likely to be acquitted. I can also appreciate the distaste she may

have felt at the prospect of having to deal with M. Godin under the

terms of her father’s will; but even both of these considerations

seem to me insufficient to account for her present almost ecstatic

condition. There is an immediateness to her joy which could hardly

result from mere release from a future disagreeable possibility.

How do you account for it, sis?” Alice’s answer was somewhat

enigmatical and didn’t give me the information I sought. “Ned,”

she replied,” I’ll pay for the tickets to the first circus that

comes here, just to see if you can find the trunks on the elephants.”

Do my best, I couldn’t make her enlighten me any further, for, to

every question, she replied with a most provoking laugh.

 

Maitland called and spent most of the next day, which was Sunday,

with us, and we all talked matters over. He did not seem either

to share or understand Gwen’s exuberance of spirits, albeit one

could easily observe that he had a measure of that satisfaction

which always comes from success. More than once I saw him glance

questioningly at Gwen with a look which said plainly enough: “What

is the meaning of this remarkable change? Why should it so matter

to her whether M. Latour’s or M. Godin’s death avenges her father’s

murder?” When he left us at night I could see he had not answered

that question to his own satisfaction.

CHAPTER III

The Devil throws double sixes when he turns genius heliward.

 

The next morning after the events last narrated I was utterly

dumfounded by an article which met my gaze the instant I took up

my paper. It was several moments before I sufficiently recovered

my faculties to read it aloud to Gwen, Alice, and Jeannette, all

of whom had noticed my excitement, and were waiting with such

patience as they could command. I read the following article

through from beginning to end without pause or comment:

 

M. Godin Anticipates the Law. - The Real Murderer of John Darrow

Writes His Confession and Then Suicides in His Cell. - Contrived

to Mix His Own Poison Under the Very Nose of His Jailer! -=20

The Dorchester Mystery Solved at Last. - Full Description of the

Life of One of the Cleverest Criminals of the Century.

 

At 4.30 this morning M. Godin

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