I, Spy - 6 Espionage & Detective Books in One Edition. Frederic Arnold Kummer

were you awakened?"

      "I heard someone crying 'Help! Help!' I threw on some clothes as quick as I could, Sir, and ran out into the hall. Then I seen the Master run into the hallway of the west wing, and Gibson after him, and I follows them. After that, Sir, I went for a candle."

      The testimony of the other servants was similar to that of Gibson and the maid. They had heard someone crying for help, and had rushed into the hall.

      Sergeant McQuade's testimony was in some ways the most interesting of all. I began to see that this astute gentleman had by no means been as frank with me as I had been with him, and had made a number of little discoveries of which I had no knowledge up to now. He testified to finding Miss Temple's handkerchief in Mr. Ashton's room on the morning of the murder. He testified to finding the window at the end of the hallway unbolted. He produced photographs and measurements of the bloody handprint found upon Mr. Ashton's window sill and compared them with measurements made of my own hands earlier in the day. It appeared that, while the handprint was small, it could readily have been made by my hand, which, like that of most artists, is rather below medium size. He testified that he found similar marks of blood upon the window sill of the hall window, pointing inward, also scratches in the paint evidently made by someone climbing through the window from without. He testified to finding footprints upon the porch roof, made by someone either wearing soft slippers or in their stocking feet. These prints were made in the thin wet mold which covered the surface of the roof. He found traces of this mold on the white window sill of the hall window, and traced prints of it upon the polished floor of the hallway, from the window as far as the doorway of my room. He could not find any prints of this nature within my room, nor could he say that the person making them did not go beyond my room, but only that the footprints could not be traced beyond my door. The walking of many feet in the hallway between Mr. Ashton's door and mine had obliterated the marks and prevented his tracing them beyond that point, if they had indeed gone beyond it. They were small footprints, and somewhat indistinct, yet showing clearly as faint, dull patches upon the polished floor. They were clearly a man's footprints, although smaller than the average man's foot. Measurements which he had made of footprints which I had made in the gravel paths upon the morning of the tragedy proved conclusively that these foot marks in the hall could readily have been made by me. He exhibited drawings, photographs and measurements as he gave his testimony. I sat in the dock, amazed, wondering if by any chance I had suddenly developed somnambulistic tendencies and had performed these various acts while walking in my sleep. I felt that both the Magistrate and the crowd in the court-room were already coming to regard me as an extremely dangerous character.

      The Sergeant's testimony was extremely thorough and exact. He showed conclusively that no one had descended from the porch roof to the ground either by the vines, or by the lightning rod which I had foolishly supposed he had not observed, the day we made our first investigation. He spoke of the woman's footprints in the gravel path, from the corner of the porch to the main entrance. He then took up our trip to London, put in evidence the letter he had received, supposedly from me, summoning him to meet me at the house in Kingsgate street, explaining that the Chinamen had no doubt been uncertain whether I had the stone or had turned it over to him, and to avoid taking chances had decoyed us both. He referred to my offers of assistance in unraveling the case, and my failure to mention to him my suspicions regarding the Oriental perfume, or my taking of the cake of soap from the green room. He described Li Min's attempt to steal my satchel, and my facetious remark that possibly the Chinaman thought I had the emerald in my bag, which was indeed the case. Finally he spoke of the finding of the emerald in the cake of soap in my satchel and the weapon in the drawer of the dresser in my room, by his assistants, and the latter was produced and placed along with the other exhibits in the case. When McQuade had got through it was perfectly clear to the court that someone within the house had left the telltale marks on the roof and window sills and it seemed pretty conclusively shown that that someone was myself. I arose to be examined with a sinking heart. I knew that before now, in the history of criminal trials, many an innocent man had gone protesting to the gallows, and already I felt sure that, unless Miss Temple's testimony was decidedly convincing, I was certain of being held for trial as either an accomplice or the principal in Robert Ashton's murder.

      My own examination was short. I told my story as the reader already knows it, and I told it without any hitch or hesitation. If my reasons for taking the cake of soap from Ashton's room seemed weak, I could only inform the magistrate that they were nevertheless the ones which had actuated me. If my failure to speak of the matter to McQuade seemed suspicious, I could only say in reply that I had not thought it of sufficient importance to mention to him. I testified that I had last seen Miss Temple, on that fatal night, when she bade me good-night in the lower hall, and that I did not see her again until the next morning when she came into the hall in answer to my cries. I described minutely the manner in which I was awakened by the short, sharp cry of the murdered man, and the sound of his heavy fall, and fixed the time as not later than half-past five, as I had looked at my watch, mechanically, while hurriedly throwing on my clothes. I felt that I had made a favorable impression, but I realized that the stern facts brought out by McQuade would need more than a favorable impression to overcome them. At the conclusion of my testimony I requested that the Chinaman, Li Min, be called to corroborate me as to the removal of the cake of soap from the green room. The Chinaman was already in the witness room, but, when brought into court, maintained a stolid silence, and even the most strenuous efforts of an interpreter failed to elicit from him a single syllable. It was at this point that the court adjourned for luncheon, after which the examination was to be resumed, with the hearing of Miss Temple's testimony.

      As may well be imagined, I had no desire for food. Nor were my concern and inward fear of the afternoon's proceedings a result of any fear that I may have had upon my own account. I realized fully that the testimony of the morning had been heavily against me, but I would have gladly endured that and much more, could I have spared Muriel the coming ordeal. The thought that she might be coming to Exeter to confess, and thus free me from all suspicion, distressed rather than cheered me. That she had evidence of importance to put before the court I well knew. Yet whom could it possibly involve but herself? The Chinaman, Li Min, she could have no possible motive, I felt, for screening, and the only other person for whom she could possibly have such a feeling, her father, had been in no way connected with the crime, and clearly could not have committed it. The more I thought, the more I realized that logic pointed its cold and inexorable fingers at her; yet the more strongly did the love I felt for her tell me the impossibility of such a conclusion. I cannot express the tenderness, the love, with which this girl, in our few brief meetings, had inspired me. I longed to take her into my arms and comfort her, and tell her that the whole thing was but a wretched, miserable dream. Yet it needed but a glance at the stone walls about me, the steel grating of my door, and the untasted food which stood upon the cot at my side, to assure me that this was indeed no dream, but a very cold and stern reality. It was close on to two o'clock when I was once more taken back to the court-room, and, as I entered, I glanced about with an eager and expectant look, hoping to see Miss Temple. She was nowhere to be seen. I took my seat and waited patiently, watching the court attendants as they performed their routine duties, or the Magistrate, deep in the business of reading and signing a number of papers—warrants, I presumed, for other unfortunates—which were handed to him by a clerk. Major Temple sat in his former seat, so pale and still that I felt he had not left it since the morning, yet I knew he must have done so, if only to catch a glimpse of his daughter as she arrived in the custody of the officers. Presently there was a stir in the room, the Magistrate left off signing his papers, and, as I turned toward the door leading from the witness room, I saw Muriel entering, with Sergeant McQuade at her side, and Inspector Burns following them. My heart sank, as I saw how terribly pale and distressed she looked and with what shrinking she met the gaze of the many eyes now focused upon her. Her own sought the face of her father. He half-rose, as though to speak, then sank back into his seat and covered his eyes with his hand. She did not see me at all—probably because I was so close to her.

      The Magistrate rapped upon the desk to still the rising buzz of conversation among the spectators, then, turning to the witness, for whom McQuade had placed a chair, began his interrogations. After she had taken the oath, and answered the usual formal questions as to her name, age, etc., he began.

      "Miss