The Mystery of M. Felix. B. L. Farjeon

a kiss, aunty. Now I'm off.'

      "And off she was, but not without saluting our reporter with an elaborate courtesy.

      "Mrs. Middlemore waited till she heard the street-door slam, and then said,

      "'Did you ever see the likes of her?'

      "'I declare to you, my dear madam,' said our reporter, 'that the more I see of Sophy the more I like her. What have the police done? Anything?'

      "'Nothing, sir. I went and told 'em what 'ad 'appened, and two policemen came and looked at the bed, looked under it, looked in every room as you said they would, looked at me, and went away.'

      "'And they have not been here again?'

      "'No, sir.'

      "'Mrs. Middlemore, may I have another peep in M. Felix's rooms?'

      "'Certainly, sir.'

      "They went up together, Mrs. Middlemore breathing heavily, perfuming the air with a flavor of beer. There was an escritoire in the sitting-room, and our reporter examined it.

      "'I'll tell you what I'm looking for,' he said. 'I see pens, ink, and paper, denoting that M. Felix was occasionally in the habit of using them, but there is not a scrap of paper about with his writing on it. There is not even a monogram on the note paper. If we could find something, it might furnish a clue. He received letters, I suppose?'

      "'Oh, yes, sir.'

      "'And the presumption is that he answered them. Did you ever post any of his letters?'

      "'Never once, sir.'

      "'Here is a waste-paper basket; there must have been in it, at odd times, scraps of the letters he received and spoilt sheets of his own. Has your dust bin been emptied this week?'

      "'No, sir, but you wouldn't find anything of Mr. Felix's in it. It was one of his orders that whatever was in the waste-paper basket should be burnt here in his own fireplace. I used to sweep this room in the morning when he was in bed, and he always said I did my work so quietly that he was never disturbed by any noise.'

      "'Look round the room, Mrs. Middlemore, and see if you miss anything. You would be pretty well acquainted with everything in it. What is the meaning of that gasp? You do miss something?'

      "'There was another desk, sir, and I don't see it.'

      "'What kind of desk?'

      "'A small one, sir, that used to smell quite nice.'

      "'Ah, made of cedar wood, no doubt. Did M. Felix keep his papers in this desk?'

      "'Some of his papers, sir.'

      "'How do you know that?'

      "'I've come into the room when he's rung for me, and saw the desk open.'

      "'Ocular proof, Mrs. Middlemore.'

      "'What sort's that, sir?'

      "'Visible to the eye--your eye, my dear madam.'

      "'Yes, sir,' said Mrs. Middlemore, dubiously.

      "'Now, Mrs. Middlemore, can you inform me whether those papers you saw in the missing desk were private papers?'

      "'It ain't possible for me to say, sir.'

      "'Neither can you say, I suppose, whether M. Felix set any particular store upon them?'

      "'Well, sir, now you bring me to it, things come to my mind.'

      "'Exactly.'

      "'Whenever I come into the room,' said Mrs. Middlemore, 'and the desk was open, Mr. Felix used to shut it up quick.'

      "'Lest you should see them too closely?'

      "'I'm sure I shouldn't 'ave made no use of 'em; least of all, bad use.'

      "'That is not the point. He closed the desk quickly when another person was by, with an evident wish to keep all possible knowledge of them to himself.'

      "'It looks like that. You do push a thing close.'

      "Our reporter accepted this as a compliment, and continued:

      "'That appears to establish the fact that this desk--which probably was brought from India, Mrs. Middlemore--contained M. Felix's private papers?'

      "'It do, sir,' said Mrs. Middlemore, admiringly.

      "'And, therefore, papers of importance. The desk was inlaid with silver, Mrs. Middlemore.'

      "'Lor', sir!' exclaimed Mrs. Middlemore, doubtless regarding our reporter as a man who dealt in enchantments. 'How did you find out that?'

      "'It was, was it not?'

      "'Yes, sir, it was.'

      "'When M. Felix had visitors, was this desk ever allowed to lie carelessly about?'

      "'No, sir. At them times he used to keep it in 'is bedroom, on a little table by the side of 'is bed.'

      "'Let us look through the bedroom, and see if it is there.'

      "They searched the bedroom thoroughly, without finding it.

      "'It is undoubtedly gone,' said our reporter.

      "'It do look like it, sir.'

      "'Mrs. Middlemore, when M. Felix was found dead in his chair, was this desk in either of the rooms?'

      "'I didn't see it, sir.'

      "'You could not swear it was not here?'

      "'I shouldn't like to, sir.'

      "'The probability, however, is that it had gone when the door was forced open?'

      "'Yes, sir.'

      "'The police could scarcely take it away without your knowledge?'

      "'They'd 'ave been clever to do it.'

      "'Had they done so, they would certainly have been exceeding their duties. Now, do not answer the questions I put to you too quickly. Were you in these rooms on the day before M. Felix's death?'

      "'I were, sir.'

      "'Was the desk here then?'

      "'It were; I can swear to that.'

      "'You saw it with your own eyes?'

      "'I couldn't see it with no others,' replied Mrs. Middlemore, smirking, in approval of her small wit.

      "'Of course, you could not. Is there any particular reason why you are so positive of this?'

      "'Well, sir, Mr. Felix wanted something, and rung for me; and when I come into the room he was sitting at this table with the desk open before him, and all the papers scattered about.'

      "'That fixes it. Did he seem to be searching for, or examining with more than usual interest, any special document?'

      "'He seemed flustered and excited, sir. I can't say no more than that.'

      "'He was not generally of an excitable temperament?'

      "'Not at all. He was easy going, and always with a pleasant word.'

      "'A model man. I observe that you call him Mr. and not Monsieur?'

      "'I can't bring myself to foreign languages, sir. My tongue gits into a knot.'

      "'He was a foreigner, I suppose?'

      "'I suppose so, sir. I ain't the best of judges.'

      "'A Frenchman?'

      "'So I thought, sir.'

      "'Or an Italian?'

      "'Perhaps, sir,' said Mrs. Middlemore, wavering.

      "'Or a Spaniard?'

      "'Perhaps, sir,' said Mrs. Middlemore, growing more undecided.

      "'Or