CHAPTER XIII.
THE DISCOVERY.
Early in the morning of the same day upon which Leon had offeredhimself to Agnes, Madame Medjora, reading her _Herald_, had at lastfound the long-awaited personal, "Come," the signal which she hadarranged with the detective. Immediately after breakfast, therefore,she had started forth to learn what had been discovered.
Arrived at the agency, she was at once ushered into the presence ofMr. Barnes.
"Well," said she, scarcely waiting to be seated, "what have you foundout?"
"I have learned everything," said Mr. Barnes, without any show offeeling.
"You have? Well, go on. Why don't you tell me?" Madame was veryimpatient, but the detective was in no hurry.
"I have known what I have learned for over a week, Madame Medjora,"said he slowly, "and during that time I have hesitated to send foryou. Even now, when you are here, I am not sure that I shall be doingthe right thing to give you any information upon this subject, withoutfirst communicating with your husband."
"Ah! I see," said Madame, with a sneer, "you think he would pay youbetter than I. You are mistaken. I have plenty of money. My own money.What is your price?"
Mr. Barnes arose from his seat, in anger, but perfectly calmoutwardly. As deferentially as though he were addressing a queen, hebowed and said:
"Madame, pardon me, but be kind enough to consider our interview at anend."
"What do you mean? You wish me to go?"
"Precisely, Madame. That is my wish."
"But you have not yet told me--ah! I see! I have made a mistake. Butyou will pardon me, Mr. Barnes. I did not know. How could I? I judgedyou by what I have heard of detectives. But you are different. I seethat now, and I ask your forgiveness. You will forget my stupid words,will you?" She extended her hand cordially, and appeared trulyregretful. Mr. Barnes yielded to her persuasive influence, and satdown again.
"Madame Medjora, I do not fully comprehend your motives in thismatter. That is why I hesitate to speak." Mr. Barnes paused a moment."Suppose you answer one or two questions. Will you?"
"Certainly! Ask me what you please."
"Very well, Madame! You married Dr. Medjora after his trial formurder. At that time he had little money. Am I right, then, inconcluding that you married him because you loved him?"
"I loved him with my whole soul!"
"And now, do you love him as well now?" Mr. Barnes scrutinized herclosely, lest her words should belie her real feeling. But her answerwas sincere.
"I love him more now than I ever did. He is all the world to me!"
"Ah! I see!" Mr. Barnes communed with himself for a brief moment, thensuddenly asked: "You have had no children, I believe?" Madame grewslightly paler, and answered in a low tone:
"None!"
"Just so! Now then, Madame, you of course recall the trial. It wasmore than hinted at that time that the Doctor had a child by his firstwife. Did he ever tell you the truth about that?"
"Never!"
"Suppose that he had done so, and had confided to you the fact thatrumor was right, and that there was a child. Understand I am onlysupposing a case! But if so, what would you have done?"
"I would have taken the little one, my husband's child, and I wouldhave cherished it for its father's sake!"
This was a deliberate lie, but Madame uttered the words in tones ofgreat sincerity. She was a very shrewd woman, and half-suspecting theobject of the detective's questioning, did not hesitate to tell thisfalsehood in order to gain her own end. She succeeded, too, for aftera few moments more, Mr. Barnes said:
"After all, Madame Medjora, I am merely a detective, and it is mybusiness to take commissions such as you have intrusted to me, andwork them out. I will make my report to you. With the letter which yougave me it was easy enough to make a start. I found the writer,Matilda Grath, and a particularly unprepossessing old hag she is. Asis readily seen by her letter, she is ignorant of even common-schoolknowledge. She is simply a rough product of her surroundings, and isas untutored as when she was born. But she had a younger sister,Margaret, who was very different. This Margaret was a very attractivegirl, and having some ambition, attended school until she was fairlywell educated. This her elder sisters called "putting on airs" and"flyin' in the face of the Lord, tryin' to know more 'n her elders."Margaret also had numerous beaux, and this was another source ofirritation to her sisters. Finally there came a young man to theneighborhood, and in the language of the people thereabout, Margaret"set her cap" for him. However, he did not marry her, but after he hadleft the vicinity, Margaret went to Boston, where she remained severalmonths. When she returned she brought a baby back with her. That babywas Leon."
"Then he was her child?"
"The gossips said so, but there is no doubt in my mind that he wasnot. He was the child of the man to whom she had given her heart, butthe mother was his lawful wife."
"Then why was the baby given to Margaret Grath?"
"Because the mother died, and the father was tried for murdering her!"
"My God! You mean that----"
"I mean that Leon's father is your husband, Dr. Medjora!"
"Impossible!" Madame wished to disbelieve exactly what she had alwayssuspected to be the truth.
"What I tell you is fact. I never do anything by halves. In the firstplace I had a hint of the truth from your own suspicions. You ofcourse had little to go on, but you loved your husband, and when ajealous eye watches the relation between the beloved one and another,it will see much. I had no doubt that you had taken your idea fromyour observation of the love which the Doctor bestowed upon his_protege_. Next I noted the coincidence of the dates. Margaret Grathappeared with the child a very few months prior to the death of MabelSloane. But I obtained substantial proofs."
"What are they?"
"Matilda Grath is an avaricious old woman. Her letter was in thenature of blackmail. She did not actually know that the Doctor is theboy's father, but she adopted that idea merely from the fact that heappeared upon the scene as soon as the guardian died. Then at theauction, it appears that there was a squabble over the possession of acollie dog, and the Doctor settled the dispute by purchasing theanimal, and presenting it to Leon."
"Oh! He did that?" Madame was inwardly incensed, but she quicklysuppressed any expression of her emotion.
"Yes! Old Miss Grath thought this was 'queer.' Then when shesubsequently learned, what she did not at first know, that Leon hadbeen taken into the Doctor's home, her doubts vanished. This accountsfor her allusion to the Doctor in the letter, and the reason why shedid not write again, was that she had no proof with which tosubstantiate her suspicions. I instituted a search, however, andunearthed a package of old letters in a worm eaten writing-desk, uponwhich no bid had been offered at the auction, so that it had beenthrown into the waste bin in the barn. Among these I found two, whichwere from the Doctor, alluding to the boy, and also a photograph ofhimself sent at the earnest solicitation of Margaret Grath, as oneletter explains. I suppose he thought that this was the leastrepayment he could make for a lifelong sacrifice."
"You have those letters?" asked Madame, with some anxiety.
"I have them here," answered the detective. "Do you wish them?"
"I do!"
"I will give them to you upon one condition,--that you give them toyour husband. They are perhaps more valuable to Leon, as the onlyevidence which would prove that he is the Doctor's son. But as theDoctor has taken him into his house, it is evident that he means toprovide for him."
"I will accept your terms. My husband shall know what you have toldme, and I will give him the letters to-night."
"With that understanding, I give them into your custody."
He handed a packet to Madame, who quickly placed it in herhand-satchel. Then she arose to depart. Handing him a check alreadysigned she said:
"Please fill in the amount of my indebtedness to you."
Mr. Barnes took the check, wrote "five hundred dollars" on the properline, and handed it
back to Madame Medjora.
"Will that be satisfactory?" he asked.
"Quite!" she answered shortly, and left the office. Havingaccomplished her purpose she had no further need to assume afriendliness which she did not feel.
All the way home this woman's heart grew more and more bitter becauseof the jealous thoughts that rankled in her breast. Her love for herhusband was of that selfish sort, that exacted all for herself. Shewished not only to be first in his affections, but she desired to besecond, third, and last. He must not love any other than herself,unless indeed it might have been a child of hers. Having been deniedthat boon, she could not bear to think that he had been the father ofa child not hers. She hated that dead mother, and lacking opportunityto vent her spite in that direction, she transferred her venom to heroffspring. She had never liked Leon, but now she despised him utterly.She thought of Lossy, the dog which her husband had bought andpresented to Leon. That the Doctor should have been so solicitous forthe lad, galled her. The dog had always been an object upon which shewould vent her spite when it could not be known, but now she wouldgive some open evidence of her displeasure.
As she entered the hallway at home, imagine her delight to see Lossy,poor dog, sitting down idly tearing a fine lace handkerchief with histeeth. It seemed to her that Providence offered her an excuse for whatshe contemplated. She called the dog to her, and the faithful,unsuspecting creature followed her up the stairs to his doom. She wentinto the laboratory, knowing that both the Doctor and Leon were out,and readily found a bottle marked "Aconite."
She sat upon a low bench and called Lossy. The confiding beast went toher, and, raising himself, planted his forepaws in her lap. He wouldhave kissed her face, but she prevented him. Grasping his jaws in herpowerful hands she forced them open, and poured the entire contents ofthe bottle into his mouth, holding his jaws apart until he was forcedto swallow the liquid. Then she released him, and he ran to thatasylum of refuge and safety, his master's room. Alas, that master wasaway, courting! Thus Lossy's fate was sealed!
Madame awaited for Leon's return, anxious to gloat over his grief atthe death of his pet, and it was for this, and to carry out anotherdesign, that she went to his room while he was ministering to his dog.Before she could fulfil her other project her husband, having returnedhome, interrupted them, having been attracted by the noise from Leon'sroom.
When she left them Madame went to her own apartment, and after thedeath of the dog, Dr. Medjora followed her there, determined todiscover the whole truth. As he entered she arose to meet him, facinghim with an undaunted air.
"Cora," demanded the Doctor, "how dared you commit such a hideouscrime? Why did you poison that dog?"
"Because it was my pleasure to do so!"
"Your pleasure to deprive a poor dumb brute of life? You should beashamed to make such a confession!"
"I am not the only one who might make confessions!"
"What do you mean?" The Doctor instantly realized that a covert threatlay hidden in her words.
"You have deceived me," cried his wife, at last giving full play toher anger. "For years you have lied to me. But at last I knoweverything. I know who Leon is!"
"Do you?" The man was exasperatingly calm. He folded his arms and,gazing coldly upon the wrathful woman, added, "What is it that youthink you know?"
"I do not think! I tell you I know! You brought him here, calling hima poor boy whom you wished to befriend. That was a lie! He is your ownchild!"
"How do you know that?"
"I hired a detective. He found out the whole hideous truth. I haveyour letters for proof, so you need not attempt denial."
"So you have found letters? Are they genuine? Let me see them?"
"I am not such a fool as that. I have hidden them where you cannotfind them. I have a better use for them than to give them to you!"
"Indeed, and may I ask what use you intend to make of them?"
"I mean to take them to Judge Dudley, and to his daughter Agnes! Ha!That idea does not please you, does it?"
"With what purpose would you show them the letters?"
"I know what you are aiming at! I am not the fool that you think! Ihave studied you, and watched you all these years, and I understandyou very well. You wish Leon and Agnes to be married?"
"I do! What of it?"
"What of it? It shall never be! That shall be my vengeance for yourlong deception. I will prevent that marriage if it cost me my life!"
"If you dare to interfere with my plans it may cost you your life!"The words were said in threatening tones, which at any other timewould have cowed Madame, but now she had thrown aside her mask, andcould not be stayed from her purpose. She answered haughtily, and witha tantalizing sneer:
"No! No! My fine Doctor! You cannot rid yourself of me, as you did ofMabel Sloane! I will not drink your poison!"
"Woman! Beware!" He grasped her wrists, but with a wrench she freedherself, and stepping back spoke wildly on:
"Yes! You can strangle me perhaps! You are strong, and I am only awoman. But, before I die, I will frustrate your grand scheme to marrythis miserable son of yours to an aristocrat. When I tell Judge Dudleythat the boy is yours, he will hesitate to admit the son of a murdererinto his family. For though he obtained your acquittal, and though hehas been your friend for so many years, mark me, he will decline analliance with one who was so near the gallows!"
She paused to note the effect of her words, a slight fear entering herheart, as she thought that perhaps she had said too much. To heramazement, her husband, without answering a single word, turned andleft the room.
Leon lay beside his dog so long, that at last the twilight closed in,and slowly the light of day faded until darkness surrounded him.
He heard the strokes upon the Japanese bronze which summoned him todinner, but he did not heed. It seemed to him that he would never careto eat again. Through the weary hours of the night Leon was strugglingagainst suggestion. It will be remembered that, in his little story,he likened the killing of a dog to murder. Therefore in his opinionthe killing of Lossy, was a murderous act; and thus the thought ofmurder occupied his mind. He considered Madame a self-confessedcriminal, and, as such, justice demanded that she should be punished.But the justice of man did not include her act within the statutes ofthe criminal code. She had killed Lossy, but, were he to demand herpunishment at the hands of the law, the law's representatives wouldlaugh at him. But punished she should be, of that he was alreadydetermined.
If it seem to you that Leon over-estimated the wrong which had beendone to him, then one of two things is true. Either you have neverloved and been loved by a dog, or else you forget that the lovelavished upon him by Lossy was all the affection which Leon hadenjoyed for years. To the lad, his collie was his dearest friend. Inthe grief for his death he had even forgotten for the time his humanlove, Agnes. Thus it was that the idea of meting out justice againstMadame himself, having once entered his mind, took a firm hold uponhim.
How should he accomplish it? What should her punishment be? What isthe usual punishment of murder? Death! A chill passed over him at thethought. Yet was not Lossy's life as dear to him, as Madame Medjora'swas to her? Then why should not she lose her life in payment for thecrime which she had committed, her victim being a defenceless andconfiding dog? Leon pictured to himself how she had accomplished thedeed. He saw, in his mind, the poor creature going to her, and thusplacing himself within her power. The thought maddened him, andsetting his teeth together he muttered audibly:
"She shall die!"
Then his brain sought some way to compass such an end with safety tohimself, and before long he had concocted a scheme of devilishingenuity. His knowledge of chemistry warned him that poisons could betraced in the tissues of the body after death, and that such meanswould be suicidal.
"But suppose she were to die a natural death? Then, not even suspicionwould be aroused."
That was the idea. He must convey to her the germs of some deadlydisease from which she would be apt
to die. Then the _post-mortem_would show nothing out of the common. There would be no way to detecthow the disease had been contracted. The attending physician wouldcertify that the death was due to a known disease, and an autopsy, ifheld, would substantiate his statements.
What disease should he choose? Asiatic cholera? He had some purecultures in a tube in the laboratory. But no! That would not serve hispurpose. Cholera is such an uncommon and dangerous malady, that theBoard of Health would strictly investigate a sporadic case. It mightnot be difficult to trace the fact that he had obtained the germs fromthe European laboratory whence they had been sent to Dr. Medjora forexperimental purposes. It would be safer to select some disease offrequent occurrence. He had the germs of diphtheria also, in the formof a pure culture. Should he use them? It would not be sure that thewoman would die, but at any rate she might, and surely she wouldsuffer. Yes! He would cause her to contract diphtheria. But how toproceed? Ah! He would use chloroform upon her in her natural sleep,and thus obtain the opportunity for his inoculation.
And so the idea grew, and his plans were arranged and perfected hourafter hour, until at last midnight had arrived. Stealthily he left hisroom and went towards the Doctor's study. Arrived there, he was aboutto cross and enter the laboratory, when his attention was attracted bya line of light under the door. Some one was evidently in thelaboratory. Leon slipped behind a curtain and waited. The minutespassed tediously, but at last the door opened, and there appeared Dr.Medjora, only partly dressed, his feet slippered. In one hand hecarried a night lamp, and in the other he held a bottle and a testtube. Of this Leon was certain. Closing the door of the laboratory,the Doctor crossed the study and went out into the hall. Leon stoleafter him, and saw him start up the stairs. He watched until, as theDoctor ascended, the light gradually disappeared. Then he heardfootsteps overhead, and knew that the Doctor had gone to his own room.Madame slept at the other end of the dwelling.
"Some experiment which he is studying out," muttered Leon, andproceeded with his own grim purpose. He went into the laboratory, andlighted a lamp which was on the bench. He searched the closet wherethe drugs were kept, but the chloroform bottle was missing. He turnedto the rack where he had left the tube in which the diphtheriabacillus had been cultivated, but that also could not be found.
In a moment, realizing that the means of committing the contemplatedcrime had in some mysterious way been taken from him, he awoke fromthe delirium of his thoughts, which had been brought on by his griefat the death of his dog, and he fervently thanked the fortune whichhad saved him from committing murder. Like a culprit, he returnedstealthily to his room, head down, and there he sat at the window,looking out at the stars, grateful that he could do so, free from thatdread secret which might have been his. He was saved!
On the next morning, however, Leon was horrified to hear that Madamehad been suddenly taken ill, and that the malady was diphtheria, inits most virulent form. He could not understand it, but he was morethan glad that his own conscience was free from stain.
Two days later, Madame Medjora succumbed to the disease, which isoften fatal when it attacks one of her age; and so she went to herlong account, with her sins upon her head.
CHAPTER XIV.
SANATOXINE.
Mr. Barnes was sitting in his office, looking listlessly over hismorning paper, when his eye suddenly met a headline announcing thedeath of Madame Medjora. Instantly his interest was aroused, and heread the account with avidity until he reached the statement that thedisease of which Madame had died was diphtheria. Then he put his paperdown upon his desk, slapped his hand upon it by way of emphasis, andejaculated:
"Foul play, or my name is not Barnes!"
He remained still for a few moments, thinking deeply. Then he resumedhis reading. When he had reached the end, he started up, gave a fewhurried instructions to his assistant, and went out. He visited theAcademy of Medicine and obtained permission to enter the library,where he occupied himself for a full hour, making a few memoranda fromvarious books. Next he proceeded in the direction of Villa Medjora,and arriving there he asked to see Leon Grath.
Leon entered the reception-room in some surprise, and seeing Mr.Barnes he asked:
"Is your errand of importance? We have death in the house."
"It is in connection with the death of Madame Medjora that I havecalled to see you, Mr. Grath. I am a detective!"
The effect of this announcement was electrical. Leon turned deathlypale, and dropped into a seat, staring speechless at his visitor. Mr.Barnes also chose to remain silent, until at last Leon stammeredforth:
"Why do you wish to see me?"
"Because I believe that you can throw some light upon this mysterioussubject."
"Mysterious subject? Where is the mystery? The cause of Madame's deathis clearly known!"
"You mean that she died of diphtheria. Yes, that is a fact. But howdid she contract that disease? Is that clearly known? Can you throwany light upon that phase of the question?"
Leon controlled his agitation with great difficulty. He had thought,when urged on by that terrible temptation which he had resisted, thata death such as this would arouse no suspicion. Yet here, while thecorpse was yet in the house, a detective was asking most horriblysuggestive questions. Questions which had haunted him by day and bynight, ever since that visit to the laboratory.
"I am not a physician," at length he murmured. "I am merely astudent."
"Exactly! You are a student in the laboratory of Dr. Medjora. You cansupply the information which I seek. Do you know whether, three daysago, there was a culture of the bacillus of diphtheria in the Doctor'slaboratory?"
"Why do you ask? What do you suspect?"
Leon was utterly unnerved, and stammered in his utterance. He made atremendous effort, in his endeavor to prevent his teeth fromchattering, and barely succeeded. Indeed, his manner was so perturbedthat for an instant Mr. Barnes suspected that he was guilty of someconnection with Madame's death. A second later he guessed the truth,that Leon's suspicion's were identical with his own.
"What I think," said Mr. Barnes, "is not to the point. My question isa simple one. Will you reply to it?"
"Well, yes! We did have such a culture tube in the laboratory."
"Did have," said the shrewd detective, quickly. "Then it is not therenow. Where is it?"
"I do not know. I think the Doctor took it away. Of course he used itin some harmless experiment, or--or--or--or for making slides for themicroscope."
"You mean that you surmise this. All you know is that Doctor Medjoratook the tube out of the laboratory. Am I not right? Now when did thatoccur? You saw him take it, did you not?"
Leon stared helplessly at his tormentor for a moment, great beads ofperspiration standing on his brow. Then starting to his feet heexclaimed:
"I will not answer your questions! I have said too much! You shall notmake me talk any more," and with a mad rush he darted from the room,and disappeared upstairs.
Mr. Barnes made no effort to arrest his flight. Indeed he sympathizedwith the lad, well comprehending the mental torture from which hesuffered. He pondered over the situation awhile, and finally appearedto have decided upon a plan of action. He took a card from his case,and wrote upon it these words:
"Mr. Barnes, detective, would like to see Dr. Medjora, concerning the coincidence of the death of his two wives. This matter is pressing, and delay useless."
This he placed in an envelope which he took from a desk that stoodopen, and then he touched a gong, which summoned a servant.
"Hand this to Dr. Medjora, immediately. I will await a reply here."
Ten minutes elapsed, and then the servant returned, and bidding Mr.Barnes follow him, led the way to the laboratory. Here Dr. Medjorareceived the detective, as though he were a most welcome visitor.
"So, Mr. Barnes," said the Doctor, opening the conversation, "you haveattained your ambition, and are now a full-fledged detective. I haveread something of your achievements, and have watched your progr
esswith some interest. I congratulate you upon your success."
"Dr. Medjora," said the detective, with much dignity, "the object ofmy visit is so serious that I cannot accept flattery. We will proceedto business, if you please."
"As you choose! Let me see! From your card, I judge that you fancythat there is some suspicious circumstance about my late wife's death.You speak of a coincidence which connects hers with that of my firstwife. What is it?"
"Both died of diphtheria," said Mr. Barnes, impressively.
"You are entirely mistaken, sir," said the Doctor, with a touch ofanger. "My first wife, Mabel, died of morphine, self-administered, andfatal because of other organic disease from which she suffered. Shedid not die of diphtheria."
"A physician so testified, and signed a death certificate to thateffect."
"He did, but he was mistaken. Physicians are mortal as other men are,and as liable to errors of judgment. I repeat, Mabel died of poison."
"Well, we will pass that for a moment. Your last wife died ofdiphtheria, and she did not contract that disease legitimately."
"No? You interest me. Pray then how did she contract it?"
"By inoculation with the bacillus of diphtheria, Dr. Medjora, and youadministered this new form of poison, which an autopsy does notdisclose."
"Quite an ingenious theory, Mr. Barnes, and I admire your skill inevolving it. It shows what an enterprising detective you are. Youthink that if you make a discovery of this nature, you will coveryourself with glory. Only you are wrong. I did not do what you charge.Why should I wish to kill my wife?"
"Because she had discovered your secret!"
"What secret?"
"That Leon is the child of Mabel Sloane and yourself!"
"Mabel Medjora, you mean," said the Doctor, sternly. "When a womanmarries, she assumes her husband's name."
The Doctor was apparently very jealous of the good name of his firstwife. Mr. Barnes was amazed at this exhibition of feeling. The Doctorcontinued, as though soliloquizing:
"So you are the detective that my wife engaged? Strange fatality! Verystrange!" He walked up and down the room a few times, and thenconfronted the detective.
"Mr. Barnes," said he, "it is evident that you and I must have aserious and uninterrupted conversation. Leon may come in here at anymoment. Will you accompany me to a room below, where we will be safefrom intrusion?"
"Certainly!"
Dr. Medjora raised the trap-door, which revealed the secret stairway,and started down. Mr. Barnes arose to follow him, saying:
"You are taking me to some secret apartment, Doctor. I will go withyou, but this trap must be left open, and I warn you that I am armed."
"You need no weapons, Mr. Barnes. No danger will threaten you. Mypurpose in taking you below is entirely different from what you havein your mind."
At the foot of the stairway he turned aside from the crypt ofAEsculapius, and led the way into the secret chamber in which thehypnotic suggestion of love had been put into operation. At this timeit appeared simply as an ordinary room, the staging and curtainshaving been removed.
"Be seated, Mr. Barnes," said the Doctor, "and listen to me. You arelaboring under a misapprehension, or else you have not told me allthat you know. A most curious suspicion has been aroused in your mind.Upon what facts is it based?"
"Perhaps it will be best for me to explain. I must again refer to thefact that your first wife was supposed to have died of diphtheria.Your second wife falls a victim to the same malady. It is uncommon inadults. This of itself might be but a coincidence. But when I knowthat, on a given day, I revealed to your wife the truth about Leon,which you had carefully hidden from her for so many years, and when Isubsequently discover that Madame was attacked by this disease on thevery night following her visit to my office, suspicion wasinevitable."
"As you insist upon going back to that old case, let me ask you howyou can suppose that I induced the disease at that time?"
"Just as you have done now. By using the diphtheria bacillus."
"You forget, or you do not know, that the bacillus of diphtheria wasnot discovered until Klebs found it in 1883, and the fact was notknown until Loeffler published it in 1884. Now my wife died in 1873."
"True, these scientists made their discoveries at the time which youname, but I feel certain that you had anticipated them. You arecounted the most skilful man of the day, and I believe that you knowmore than has been learned by others."
"Your compliment is a doubtful one. But I will not dispute with you. Iwill grant, for the sake of argument, that your suspicion is natural.You cannot proceed against me merely upon suspicion. At least youshould not do so."
"My suspicion is shared by another, whose mind it has entered by adifferent channel."
"Who is this other?"
"Your son!"
"What do you say? Leon suspects that I have committed a crime? This isterrible! But why? Why, in the name of heaven, should he harbor such athought against me?" The Doctor was unusually excited.
"He saw you take the culture tube, containing the bacillus, out of thelaboratory."
"You say Leon saw me take a culture tube from the laboratory?" TheDoctor spoke the words separately, with a pause between each, asthough stung by the thought which they conveyed. Mr. Barnes merelynodded assent.
"Then the end is at hand!" muttered the Doctor, softly. "All is readyfor the final experiment!" Mr. Barnes did not comprehend the meaningof what he heard, but, as the Doctor walked about the room, back andforth, like a caged animal, seemingly oblivious of the fact that hewas not alone, the detective thought it wise to observe him closelylest he might attack him unawares.
Presently the Doctor stopped before the detective, and thus addressedhim, in calm tones:
"Mr. Barnes, you are shrewd and you are clever. You have guessed apart of the truth, and I have decided to tell you everything."
"I warn you," said Mr. Barnes, quickly, "that what you say will beused against you."
"I will take that risk!" The Doctor smiled, and an expression akin toweariness passed over his countenance. "You have said that, in yourbelief, as early as 1873, I knew of the bacillus of diphtheria, andthat I inoculated my wife with it. You are right, but, nevertheless,you are mistaken when you say that she died from that malady. I mustgo further back, and tell you that the main source of my knowledge hasbeen some very ancient hieroglyphical writings, which recorded whatwas known upon the subject by the priests of centuries ago. Much thatis novel to-day, was very well understood in those times. The germtheory of disease was thoroughly worked out to a point far in advanceof what has yet been accomplished in this era. The study required totranslate and comprehend the cabalistic and hieroglyphical records hasbeen very great, and it was essential that I should test each stepexperimentally. About the time of Mabel's death I had discovered thegerm of diphtheria, but I found that my experiments with the loweranimals were very unsatisfactory, owing to the fact that it does notaffect them and human beings in a precisely similar manner. Itherefore risked inoculating my wife."
"That was a hideous thing to do," ventured Mr. Barnes.
"From your standpoint, perhaps you are right. But I am a unique man,occupying a unique position in the world. To me alone was it given toresurrect the buried wisdom of the past. Even if I had known that theexperiment might be attended by the death of my wife, whom I loveddearer than myself, I still would not have been deterred. Sciencetranscended everything in my mind. Death must come to us all, and afew years difference in the time of its arrival is surely immaterial,and not to be weighed against the progress of scientific research. ButI was confident that the disease, thus transmitted, would not provefatal. That is, I was sure that I could effect a cure."
"But it seems that you did not do so. The woman died."
"She died from poison. I carefully attended her during her attack ofdiphtheria, until an unlooked-for accident occurred. I became illmyself. It was not an ailment of any consequence, but I felt that itwould be safer to call in as
sistance, and I placed the case in thehands of Dr. Fisher. He afterwards stupidly called in Dr. Meredith.However, despite their old fogy methods, she made a good rally and wason the safe side of the crisis, when that hypodermic case was lefttemptingly within her reach. I think now that she shammed sleep, inorder to distract my attention from her. Morphine _habitues_ are verycunning in obtaining their coveted drug. However that may be, I wassuddenly aroused to the fact that there was a movement in the bed, andturning my head, I saw her pushing the needle of the syringe under herflesh. I sprang up and hastened to her, but she had made theinjection, and dropped back to the pillows, when I reached her. Shehad not withdrawn the needle, and I was in the act of doing that, whenthe nurse entered."
"Then you adhere to the story which you told upon the stand?"
"Certainly! It is the truth!"
"But, Doctor," said Mr. Barnes, "you have not, even yet, proven thatshe did not die of diphtheria."
"She did not! I tell you it was the morphine that deprived her oflife. I know it! She died of poison! There is no question about that!"
Thus the Doctor, though admitting that he had produced the diphtheria,persistently asseverated that Mabel had not succumbed to itsinfluence. Thus is explained his not advancing the theory ofdiphtheria as a cause of death, when arranging his defence, at thetrial. To have escaped the gallows in that manner, would have been toburden his conscience with the murder of the woman whom he loved, forif she died of diphtheria, while he must have escaped conviction bythe jury, he would know within his own heart that it was his hand thatdeprived her of life. Mr. Barnes replied:
"But there is a question in this last case. Madame died of diphtheria,and since you admit that you can produce it by inoculation, what am Ito believe?"
"I care not what you believe," said the Doctor, sharply, "so long asyou can prove nothing."
"Well, then, since you do not care," said the detective, nettled, "letme tell you that I believe you deliberately planned to kill your lastwife. What is more, I do not doubt that a jury would adopt my views."
"In that you are utterly mistaken. Were I considering myself alone, Iwould permit you to accuse me, feeling perfectly confident that Iwould be in no danger."
"You are a bold man!"
"Not at all! Where there is no danger, there can be no specialbravery. Why, my dear Mr. Barnes, you have no case at all against me.In your own mind you think that there is ample proof, but much of whatyou know could not be offered to a jury. You are aware of the factthat the diphtheria bacillus was known to me prior to my first wife'sdeath, and so you trace a connection between the two cases. But mylawyer would merely show that the discovery was made ten years afterMabel died, and any further allusion to my first trial would be ruledout. I know enough about law, to know that previous crimes, oraccusations of crime, cannot be cited unless they form a part of asystem, and as your idea of induced diphtheria could not besubstantiated, all of that part of your evidence would be irrelevant."
"That would be a question for the presiding judge to decide."
"If he decide other than as I have stated, we would get a new trial onappeal. The law is specific, and the point is covered by endlessprecedents. Now then, obliged to confine yourself to positive evidencein the present case, what could you do? You think you could show amotive, but a motive may exist and not be followed by a crime, andyour motive is weak besides. Next, you declare that I had theknowledge and the opportunity. I might have both, and still refrainfrom a murder. But you say that the tube containing the bacillus wasmissing from my laboratory on that very night, and that my son, Leon,saw me take it. I think that you have formed a rash conclusion on thispoint, because I doubt that Leon has told you any such thing. However,granting that it is true, and even that the boy would so testify, I amsure that he would admit under cross-examination that it is a commonhabit for me to take such tubes to my room to make slides for themicroscope." The detective recalled that Leon had made this sameexplanation, and he realized that the Doctor had made a valuable pointin his own defence. Dr. Medjora continued: "We would produce theslides which I did actually make, and, being warned by you so early,it would be easy for me to remain in your company until I could sendfor an expert to examine the slides, so that at the trial he would beable to testify, that from the condition of the balsam he could swearthat they had been very recently made. Thus, by admitting all of thedamaging parts of your evidence, and then explaining them so that theybecome consistent with the hypothesis of innocence, we would feelsafe. You would still be at the very beginning of your case. It woulddevolve upon you to show that I not only made the slides, but that Ilikewise used a part of the contents of that tube to inoculate mywife. You would need to show how such an act were possible. You haveno witness who saw me commit the deed which you charge, have you?"
"No," said Mr. Barnes, reluctantly. "But I still think that thecircumstantial evidence is sufficient." Mr. Barnes felt sure that thisman was guilty, and however skilfully his defence was planned he wasreluctant to yield.
"It is sufficient!" said Dr. Medjora, "Not to convict me at a trial byjury, but to raise a doubt of my innocence in the minds of those,whose good will I am determined not to forfeit. Therefore I will notsubmit to a trial."
"How will you escape? I intend to arrest you!"
"You intend to arrest me, but your intention will not be carried intoeffect. I mean to place myself beyond the reach of the law."
"You do not contemplate suicide?" asked Mr. Barnes, alarmed.
"Not at all! There is no object in such an act, and good reason why Ishould not resort to it. You do not comprehend my position, and I mustexplain it to you, because I must depend upon you for assistance."
"You expect assistance from me?" Mr. Barnes was puzzled.
"Certainly, and you will grant it. I must tell you that for many yearsI have planned a scheme which is now on the verge of accomplishment. Iwish my son Leon to marry Agnes Dudley. I had some difficulty toobtain my friend's consent, but since he has discovered that the youngpeople love one another, he has acquiesced. Only to-day he told methis. But if he was reluctant, when Leon's parentage was unknown, hewould be more so, were he to learn that I am his father."
"But I thought that Judge Dudley was your warm friend?"
"He is! But even strong friendships have a limitation, beyond whichthey must not be tried. Judge Dudley would strenuously argue that I aminnocent of the old charge. His friendship for me, and his pride atwinning his first great case, would prompt him thus. But were he tohear your suspicions, like you, he would believe that both women diedsimilarly, and he would not only be apt to accept your theory ofMadame's death, but he might also come to think that I had murderedMabel also."
"So! You admit there is some potency in my charge, after all."
"You would fail with a jury, but you would convince Judge Dudley, andthat would forever prevent him from consenting to this marriage. Hewould move heaven and earth to stop his daughter from marrying the sonof one whom he believed to be a murderer. Thus you see the disasterthat threatens, if you pursue your course. You would blast the livesof two people, who love one another."
"Duty cannot consider sentiment!" said Mr. Barnes, though in his hearthe was already sorry that he suspected, and that he had followed uphis suspicion.
"Leon now troubles himself because he does not known who his fatheris," continued the Doctor, without noticing what Mr. Barnes had said."It would be far worse for him to know his father, and then believehim to be a murderer, and even that he had himself supplied a clueagainst him. It would be too horrible! Agnes too would suffer. Shemight abandon her love, from a sense of duty to her father, but herheart would be broken, and all the bright promises of her youthcrushed. No! No! It must not, it shall not be!" The Doctor becameexcited towards the end, and Mr. Barnes was startled at his manner.
"What will you do?" he asked, feeling constrained to say something.
"Place myself beyond the reach of the law, as I said before. But notby suicide, as you s
uggested. Do you not see that my only reason foravoiding the trial which would follow your accusation is, that I donot wish the knowledge to reach those three persons, in whose welfaremy whole heart is centred? Suicide would be a confession of guilt. Itis the hackneyed refuge of the detected criminal who lacks brains, andof the story writer, who, having made his villain an interestingcharacter, spares the feelings of his readers by not sending him toprison, or to the gallows. Nor do I contemplate flight, because theeffect would be the same."
"Then how do you purpose evading the law?" Mr. Barnes was intenselyinterested, and curious to know the plans of this singularlyresourceful man.
"The law cannot reach the insane, I believe," said the Doctor, calmly.
"You surely do not suppose that you can deceive the experts byshamming madness?" asked Mr. Barnes, contemptuously. "We are tooadvanced in science, in these days, to be baffled long bymalingerers."
"Observe me, and you will learn my purpose!"
Dr. Medjora went to a closet and returned with a hammer, a largestaple, and a long chain. Mr. Barnes watched him closely, with nosuspicion of what was to follow. The Doctor stopped at a pointimmediately opposite to the door, and stooping, firmly fastened thechain to the floor by nailing it down with the large staple, which waslong enough to reach the beam under the boarding. He then stood upagain. Taking a hypodermic syringe from his pocket, and also a smallphial, he carefully filled the barrel, and was about to inject thefluid into his arm, when Mr. Barnes ejaculated:
"I thought that you said you would not commit suicide?"
"I have no such intention. In one moment I will explain my purpose toyou. Meanwhile watch me!"
With dexterous skill he plunged the point into one of the largerveins, and discharged the fluid carefully, holding a finger over thewound as he withdrew the needle to prevent any escape. If Mr. Barneswas astonished by this, he was more surprised at what followed. TheDoctor stooped and picked up the ends of the chain, which thedetective now observed terminated in handcuffs. These the Doctorslipped over his wrists, and snapping together the spring locks, thusvirtually imprisoned himself.
"What does this mean?" said Mr. Barnes. "I do not understand."
"Of course not," said the Doctor. "You are accustomed to deal withbrainless criminals. Despite your boast, science is beyond you. I willexplain: My object in thus chaining myself to the floor, is to insureyour safety."
"My safety?"
"Yes! In less than half an hour I will be a raving maniac. If notrestrained, I might do you an injury."
"Impossible!" cried the detective, incredulous.
"You will see! I ask in exchange for my thoughtfulness in preventingmyself from harming you, that when I shall have become irresponsible,you will suggest the idea that I felt this attack of insanity comingon, and took these precautions for the sake of others. Will you dothis?"
"Certainly! If----" Mr. Barnes stopped, confused by his thoughts.
"There is no if about this. I do not deal in chances. I have never yetmade an error, and you will see that my prediction will be fulfilled.But time, precious time, is passing, and I have much to say before Ilose my reason. You have heard of hydrophobia, have you not? And ofPasteur's experiments?"
"Yes! I have read what the newspapers have said."
"The investigators in this field have discovered that the virus ofthis disease is located in the brain, spinal marrow, and nerves ofinfected animals. They have also extracted the virus, and byinoculation produced hydrophobia in other animals. Along similar linesI have extensively experimented in connection with insanity. In thefirst place, I argued that insanity is due to a specific poison, atoxalbumen, and that this poison is a result of parasitical action. IfI could isolate that poison, and the germ which causes it, I wouldunderstand the etiology of insanity. The discovery of an antidotewould then be an almost assured consequence. To be able to cureinsanity, would be a proud distinction for the discoverer of themethod. I am convinced that I have the secret almost within my grasp.The preparation which I have injected into my veins is a formula of myown. I have named it 'Sanatoxine'!"
"Sanatoxine?"
"Yes! The word means 'poison to sanity,' and my Sanatoxine willproduce insanity, unless I have made some mistake, which is unlikely.Hereafter, when the proper antitoxine shall have been discovered, itwill be a simple matter to cure insanity. The patient will be given aproper dose of Sanatoxine, to convert his malady into a curable formof the disease, and then the antitoxine will counteract the poisonwhich has deprived him of the use of his reasoning faculties."
"If you have made such a wonderful discovery," said the detective,"then you should not destroy your own reason, thereby depriving theworld of the benefits of your knowledge. In this you commit a greatercrime than that with which you stand charged!"
"Do I? Suicide is a crime within the definitions of the Penal Code,but there has been no enactment against self-inflicted insanity. But Imust tell you how Sanatoxine is produced, and then explain howposterity may yet benefit by my discovery. One of the curable forms ofinsanity is delirium tremens. The worst of these cases are trulymaniacal neuroses. I have seen a man die of such an attack, and a fewminutes later I removed his brain and spinal marrow. These Imacerated, and from them I extracted the virus which is the cause ofthe malady. I have inoculated the lower animals with it, and I haveseen results which satisfy me that my deductions are correct. Thiscannot be absolutely known, however, until my Sanatoxine is tried onhuman beings. That important step in the advancement of science hasjust been made. If I become insane, my theory will have ample proof.For the future, Leon must complete my work. Among my papers he willfind my views and formulas. It is inevitable that he will solve theriddle."
"But you sacrifice yourself, merely to test an experiment? Youintroduce into your own system a preparation abstracted from such ahorrible source! It is fearful to think about!"
"Let me see," said the Doctor, consulting his watch. "Ten minutes havepassed, and there is scarcely a rise of temperature. Singular!" Hemused over the problem for a moment, and a shade of anxiety passedacross his features, as he murmured, "What if I have made a mistake?No! No! It is impossible! Utterly impossible!" Reassured he turnedagain to Mr. Barnes:
"I mentioned awhile ago that I should need your assistance. You havesaid that I make a sacrifice. From the ordinary standpoint that istrue, though not from my own. Suicide would have brought me death, anexperience for which I yearn, with a longing based upon scientificcuriosity, which perhaps you cannot comprehend. But I am equallydesirous of knowing by personal experience what it means to be insane.Death will come to me in time, therefore I need not interfere, butinsanity might never have been my lot, had I not pursued the coursewhich I have followed. To-morrow you will be obliged to explain whatyou have witnessed, and the favor I ask is this. Do not render myself-sacrifice useless, by relating to others those horriblesuspicions, the consequences of which I am so desirous of escaping. Beas merciful as the law, and keep silent that the innocent may notsuffer. May I count upon you to do this?"
"Dr. Medjora, I cannot yet believe that you will succeed in thishorrible experiment; but if you do, of course I would not harm othersby arousing useless suspicions. If you escape from the law, you needhave no fear of what I should do."
"I thank you from the bottom of my heart." Again he consulted hiswatch. "Twenty minutes gone, and still no alteration. What if I shouldfail? No! No! Failure is impossible! Mr. Barnes, another matter. Myson is my natural heir, but I do not wish him to know it. Even withoutyour story, Judge Dudley might hesitate to let Leon marry hisdaughter, if he knows him to be son of mine. There may be a doubtagainst me lurking in some corner of his brain, which would bevivified if he learned my secret. You will not reveal it?"
"No!"
"I thank you. The boy will not suffer. I have left a will in hisfavor, and there is another paper making him the guardian of myestates should I lose my reason. You see I have contemplated myexperiment for a long time, and all my preparations are comp
lete. TheJudge has arranged to give Leon my name legally. So all will be well!All will be well! All my plans successful! I lose my reason withoutcomplaint! But, time is passing, and my reason remains! A horriblethought comes over me! I have made a mistake! By all the eternaltorments, I have made a mistake, and here I am chained up so that itis impossible for me to rectify the error! They say I am an egotist,yet I have so little remembered my own mental superiority, that Iactually have thought that a dose of Sanatoxine which would unseat thereason of an ordinary man, would effect me. Fool! Fool! Fool! Howcould I forget that I, Emanuel Medjora, the Wizard, am not as othermen? How can my reason be destroyed by so small a dose as that which Ihave taken? But stop! There may be yet one chance! There may be morein the phial! Where is it?" His excitement increased as he gave ventto his thoughts aloud, as though Mr. Barnes were not present. Now helooked eagerly about, and at last saw the bottle at some distance fromhim on the floor. Mr. Barnes also saw it, and stepped forward to pickit up. Instantly the Doctor sprang towards him, grasping the hammerwhich had lain within his reach.
"Touch that phial at your peril!" he screamed. "I will brain you asmercilessly as I would a rat! That phial is mine! Its contents aremine! Valuable only to me and to science! My experiment must succeed!It must! It must! It shall!"
Glaring at Mr. Barnes, who stood back awed by his threateningattitude, the Doctor moved towards the bottle, but, as he stooped toreach for it, the chains tightened and impeded his progress.
"The chains! I had forgotten the chains! Ha! I have never forgottenbefore! Perhaps my reason is yielding already! No! No! I feel that Ihave full sway over all my faculties! I must have that phial!"
He stooped to his knees, and stretched and writhed and twisted, in hisefforts to reach the bottle. But ever it was just beyond his grasp.
"I will have it! I will! I will!" he muttered, gritting his teeth withsuch force that one of them was broken. But he took no heed of theaccident. Down on his back he turned, and, by a wriggling motion, soonlay extended at full length, his feet reaching as far as the chainsabout the wrists permitted, his arms being stretched backward beyondhis shoulders. He could now reach the bottle with his feet, but it wasimpossible for him to see it, the position of his arms rendering itvery difficult for him to hold his head and shoulders high enough fromthe floor, so that his own body would not impede his vision. However,he did accomplish his purpose, and Mr. Barnes was amazed to see him atlast clutch the phial with his two feet. Then began a series ofcontortions which were painful to see. With the utmost care the Doctordrew his feet slowly up, dragging the phial nearer and nearer,meanwhile crying out in a sort of hysteria:
"It is mine! I will have it! I will succeed! The Wizard never failed!Never! Never! No! No! Never! Never!"
Once, as he moved his feet, the phial slipped from them and rolledaway again.
"Come back!" he shrieked. "Come back! Stop! Stop!" he cried, as thoughaddressing a living thing. It ceased to roll, and with a cry of joy hefound that he could still reach it. Again he slowly worked it towardshim. Inch by inch he managed the coveted phial, until at last heassumed another position. Springing up from the floor he reachedbackward with one foot and touched it.
"Now it is mine! Mine! Mine!" His voice was shrill, and there was apassionate tone of exultation that smote Mr. Barnes to the heart. Itwas terrible to stand by and see the desperate effort which this manmade to accomplish that from which all men shrink in horror. Slowlythe Doctor proceeded with his task, until at last he was able to reachthe phial with his hands. Swiftly stooping, as a hawk descends uponits prey, he grasped the little bottle.
"Ha! Ha! Ha! I have it! It is mine! The Wizard never fails!"
His laugh of joy had scarcely died away, before he uttered a mostterrific shriek, and threw the phial from him, crying:
"Empty! Great God! It is empty!"
He stood silent and motionless for a moment. Then his eyes turned inthe direction of Mr. Barnes, and he glared at him in such a way thatthe detective felt uncomfortable. Suddenly he burst forth with atirade of abusive language.
"You! You are the cause of all this! You are the prying miscreant thathas made all my trouble! I will have your life! I will drag you intothe crypt of my great ancestor, and tear out your heart on the stoneof sacrifice that still exists in there!"
He dashed forward with such force that the chains, reaching theirlimit suddenly, jerked him back so violently that he fell. As he didso his hand chanced to touch the hammer, which he had laid aside whiletrying to secure the bottle. With a shriek of joy that made Mr. Barnesshiver, he sprang up, holding the hammer aloft.
"I am chained! Chained! But you shall not escape! Take that!"
Swiftly he hurled the hammer, but Mr. Barnes, suspecting his purpose,dropped to his knees, and the missile went harmlessly over his head.
"Balked! Balked! I have failed! But I am the Wizard and I willsucceed! Ha! Ha! Ha!" His laugh now filled the room. "You wonder how!I am chained and you think that you are safe! Ha! Ha! Ha! You are afool! You do not know me! I am Emanuel Medjora! I am powerful. I willrend these chains, and then your life shall pay!"
He turned, and wrapping the chains around his two arms, he braced hisfeet against the floor, and tugged with all his might.
He pulled, and swayed from side to side. He savagely jerked thechains, and then again he grasped one with both hands, but his effortsappeared to be in vain. But so much power did he display, that, as hisback was turned, Mr. Barnes decided that it would be safer to preparefor flight. He therefore cautiously advanced towards the door, andthere paused, ready, however, to dart out on the instant should it benecessary.
Still the Doctor tugged and jerked and rattled the chains, shriekingand laughing demoniacally at intervals. Presently, with a shout oftriumph, he did burst one of the chains. Turning towards Mr. Barnes,he shouted:
"You see! I am the Wizard! I do what I please! You did not think thatI could break it! Ha! Ha! Ha! You do not know Emanuel Medjora! Heaccomplishes what he wills! The will controls the muscles, and themind controls the will! But now through my brain a liquid fire coursesthat makes my mind doubly powerful! I feel that I am getting strongerevery moment! In another second I will snap this last chain as easilyas you would break a cord! Then, then,--Ha! Ha! Ha! I'll have yourheart out! Ha! Ha! Ha! I have an idea! I'll kill you now!"
He rushed forward as far as the remaining chain would permit, andextending the other arm, to which dangled the end of the chain whichhe had broken, he drew it back and then switched the dangling linksviciously towards Mr. Barnes, narrowly missing him. As he saw thateven now he could not reach the detective, he uttered a cry of rage,and again and again endeavored to strike him with the dangling chain.But it was useless. Mr. Barnes was beyond his reach. Finally, with acry of despair, the Doctor threw himself in a heap upon the floor, nowweeping, now laughing, and shrieking madly:
"They say I am a Wizard! Ha! Ha! Ha! A Wizard! I a Wizard, and Icannot kill a man! Such a simple thing, and yet I cannot do it! AWizard! I a Wizard! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"
His Sanatoxine experiment had proven successful. Dr. Emanuel Medjorawas a maniac!
THE END.
WORKS BY R. OTTOLENGUI.
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