The Gloved Hand

by Burton Egbert Stevenson

  CHAPTER XX

  CHECKMATE!

  I was honestly glad to get back to the office, next morning, for Ifelt the need of work--absorbing work--to take my mind off the problemof Worthington Vaughan's death, and especially to relieve me from thedepression into which his daughter's inexplicable conduct had plungedme. When I thought of her, it was with impatience and aversion, for Ifelt that she had deserted to the enemy and turned her back upon theman who loved her, in the hour of his utmost need.

  As I saw it, her conduct was little short of heartless. She hadsummoned her lover to her side, and he had come; instantly and withouthesitation, without pausing to consider the danger to himself, he hadanswered her call; in consequence of that high devotion, he was now inprison, charged with a dreadful crime; but, instead of hastening tohim, instead of standing by his side and proclaiming to the wholeworld her belief in his innocence, she deliberately stood aloof. Itwas almost as if she herself believed in his guilt! The world, atleast, could draw no other inference.

  But she had done more than that. She had abandoned herself to thefate from which he had tried to save her. Her presence at Silva's sidecould have only one meaning--she had become his disciple, had acceptedhis faith, was ready to follow him. The thought turned me sick atheart, for her as well as for Swain, but for Swain most of all, for hehad done nothing to merit such misfortune, while she, at least, hadchosen her road and was following it with open eyes. Small wonder thatI thought of her with anger and resentment, yes, and with a vaguedistrust, for, at the very back of my mind was the suspicion that shehad been a decoy to lure Swain to his destruction.

  I threw myself feverishly into the work which had accumulated at theoffice, in order to tear my mind away from thoughts like these; butwhen Mr. Royce arrived, I had to go over the case with him, and I haveseldom seen a man more puzzled or astonished.

  "I shall defend Swain, of course," I concluded, "and I'm hoping thatsomething in his favour will turn up before long, but I haven't theremotest idea what it will be. He can't be tried till fall, andmeanwhile I'm afraid he'll have to stay in jail."

  "Yes; I see no way of getting him out," agreed my partner. "But thegirl's danger is much more serious. Can't we do something for her?"

  "It's difficult to do anything against her will," I pointed out."Besides, I've lost interest in her a little."

  "Don't blame her too much--we must do everything we can. Since sheisn't of age, she'll have to have a guardian appointed. He might dosomething."

  "I had thought of that; I'll suggest to her to-night that she let mearrange for a guardian. But if we wait for a court to take action, I'mafraid we'll be too late. Swain seems to think that the danger is verypressing."

  "At least we can make one more effort," said Mr. Royce. "I'll have mywife drive out to see her this afternoon. Perhaps she can dosomething," and he went to the 'phone to make the arrangements.

  I turned back to my work, but found myself unable to take it up, formy conscience told me that I ought to see Swain, make sure that he wascomfortable, and do what I could to relieve his anxiety. It was not apleasant task, for I should have to admit my failure, but at last Iput my work aside, made my way reluctantly to the Tombs, and asked tosee him.

  They had given him a well-lighted cell on the upper tier, and some ofhis own things had been brought in to soften its bareness, but myfirst glance at Swain told me that he was in a bad way.

  "Is she all right?" was his first question, and his eyes seemed toburn into me.

  "Yes," I answered a little testily, "she's all right--that is, if youmean Miss Vaughan. For heaven's sake, Swain, be a little sensible.What's the use of working yourself up into a state like this! Did yousleep any last night?"

  "No," said Swain, after thinking a minute. "No, I believe not."

  "How about breakfast?"

  "I don't seem to remember about breakfast," he answered, after anothermoment's thought.

  I stepped to the door, called the guard, and, putting a bill into hishand, asked him to send up the prison barber and to have a good mealsent in in the course of half an hour. When the barber arrived, I hadhim take Swain in hand, give him a shave and shampoo and generalfreshening up. Then I saw that he got into clean things; and then thebreakfast arrived, and I made him sit down and eat. He obeyedpassively, and I could see the food did him good. When he had finishedhis coffee, I handed him a cigar.

  "Now, Swain," I began, sitting down opposite him, "I'm going to talkto you seriously. In the first place, Miss Vaughan is in no danger.Simmonds had two men in the grounds watching the house all last night,ready to interfere at the least sign of anything wrong. That watchwill be kept up as long as Miss Vaughan remains there."

  "That's good," he said. "I didn't know that. But just the same, shemustn't remain there. Even with the men on guard, you may be too late."

  "Just what is it you're afraid of?" I asked him, curiously. "Do youthink her life's in danger?"

  "Worse than that!" said Swain thickly, his face suddenly livid. "Oh,worse than that!"

  I confess that I caught something of his horror; but I shook myselfimpatiently.

  "I can't believe that," I said. "But, in any case, our men will be athand. At the least outcry they will burst into the house. Andremember, the three servants are there."

  "They cut no figure. If they didn't hear those screams the othernight, do you think they would hear any others? You must get her awayfrom there, Mr. Lester," he went on rapidly. "If she won't come of herown accord, you must use force."

  "But, my dear Swain," I objected, "I can't do that. Do you want me tokidnap her?"

  "Just that--if it's necessary."

  "Then I'd soon be occupying a cell here, too. I don't see what goodthat would do."

  "It would save her," he asserted, doggedly. "It would save her. That'sthe only thing to consider."

  But I rose to my feet in sudden impatience; what consideration was sheshowing for him or for me or for anyone?

  "You're talking foolishly," I said. "You'd much better be thinking ofyour own danger; it's much more real than hers." I had an impulse toadd that, since she had chosen her path, it was folly to waste pityupon her, but I managed to check the words. "Has any new light on thecase occurred to you?"

  "No," he answered, listlessly, "I haven't thought about it. When doyou see her again, Mr. Lester?"

  "I'm to see her to-night."

  "Will you give her a note from me?"

  "Yes," I agreed.

  His face lighted again at that, and he cleared a corner of his tableand sat down to write the note. It was evidently difficult to compose,for he tore up two drafts before he got one to suit him. But at lastit was done, and he folded it, rummaged an envelope out of a pile ofpapers on a chair, slipped the note into it, and handed it to me.

  "There," he said, and his face was bright with hope. "I think thatwill settle it."

  I was far from sharing his certainty, but I put the envelope in mypocket, assured myself that there was nothing more I could do for him,and returned to the office. Just as I was getting ready to leave, Mr.Royce came in, a chagrined look on his face.

  "Mrs. Royce just telephoned me," he said. "She drove out there, as Iasked her to, but Miss Vaughan refused to see her."

  I had expected it, but the certainty that we had failed again did notadd to my cheerfulness.

  "Swain wants us to kidnap her," I said, with a twisted smile.

  "I'm not sure but that he's right," said my partner, and wentthoughtfully away.

  I went to my rooms, changed, had dinner at a quiet restaurant, andthen took the elevated for the long trip to the Bronx. It was aftereight o'clock when I pulled the bell beside the tall gates toElmhurst. The gardener was evidently expecting me, for he appearedalmost at once and admitted me. Without waiting for him, I walked upthe drive toward the house. The lights were on in the library, and Istepped up to the open door.

  Then I stopped, and my heart fell. For there were two white-robedfigures in the room. One was Miss Vaugha
n and the other was FranciscoSilva. The girl was sitting at his feet.

  They had evidently heard my footsteps, for they were looking towardthe door, and Miss Vaughan arose as soon as I came within the circleof light. But if I expected her to show any embarrassment, I wasdisappointed.

  "Come in, Mr. Lester," she said. "I believe you have not met Senor Silva."

  The yogi had risen, and now he bowed to me.

  "Our encounters heretofore have been purely formal," he said, smiling."I am happy to meet you, Mr. Lester."

  His manner was friendly and unaffected, and imperceptibly some of mydistrust of him slipped away.

  "I have told Senor Silva," Miss Vaughan continued, when we wereseated, "that you have consented to act as my man of business."

  "And it is my intention," broke in Silva, "to beseech Mr. Lester toconsent to act as my man of business also. I am sure that I shall needone."

  I was not at all sure of it, for he seemed capable of dealing withany situation.

  "It would not be possible for me to represent divergent interests," Ipointed out.

  "My dear sir," protested the yogi, "there will be no divergentinterests. Suppose we put it in this way: you will represent MissVaughan, and will dispose of my interests from that standpoint. Therecould be no objection to that, I suppose?"

  "No," I answered, slowly; "but before we go into that, let meunderstand exactly what these interests are. Mr. Vaughan's estate Iunderstand, is a large one."

  Silva shrugged his shoulders.

  "I have understood so," he said, "but I know nothing about it, beyondwhat Mr. Vaughan himself told me."

  "What was that?"

  "That it was his intention to give this place as a monastery for thestudy of our religion, and to endow it."

  "Did he mention the amount of the endowment?"

  "He asked me, not long ago, if a million dollars would be sufficient."

  "Had he drawn up a deed of gift?"

  "I do not know."

  "Or made a will?"

  Again Silva shrugged indifferently to indicate that he was alsoignorant on that point, and I turned to Miss Vaughan.

  "If there is a will," I asked, "where would it probably be?"

  "There is a safe here," she said, "in which my father kept his papersof value," and she went to the wall and swung out a hinged section ofshelving. The door of a safe appeared behind it.

  I approached and looked at it, then tried the door, but it was locked.

  "To open this, we must know the combination," I said; "or else weshall have to get an expert."

  "I know the combination," she broke in; "it is ..."

  But I stopped her.

  "My dear Miss Vaughan," I laughed, "one doesn't go around proclaimingthe combination of a safe. How do you happen to know it?"

  "My father often had me open the safe for him."

  "Does anyone else know it?"

  "I do not think so."

  "Well, suppose we see what is in the safe," I suggested, and, as sheknelt before it, turned away. I, at least, did not wish to know thecombination. That Silva already knew it I accepted as certain.

  I heard the twirling of the knob, and a sharp click as the bolts werethrown back. Then I walked to Miss Vaughan's side and knelt besideher. The interior of the safe was divided into the usual compartments,one of them equipped with a Yale lock. The key was in the lock, and Iturned it, swung the little door open, and drew out the drawer whichlay behind it.

  "If there is a will, it is probably here," I said; "let us see," and Icarried the drawer over to the light.

  Miss Vaughan followed me, but Silva had sunk back into his chair, andwas staring abstractedly through the open door out into the darkness,as though our proceedings interested him not at all. Then, as I lookedinto the drawer, I gave a little gasp of astonishment, for it wasalmost filled with packets of bills. There were five of them, neatlysealed in wrappers of the National City Bank, and each endorsed tocontain ten thousand dollars.

  "Why did your father require all this money?" I asked, but MissVaughan shook her head.

  "He always kept money there," she said, "though I never knew theamount."

  "Oh, Master, receive me!"]

  I glanced at the yogi, but his revery remained unbroken. Then I laidthe packets on the table and dipped deeper into the drawer. There weretwo bank-books, some memoranda of securities, a small cash-book,and, at the very bottom, an unsealed envelope endorsed, "Last will andtestament of Worthington Vaughan."

  "Here we are," I said, took it out, and replaced the rest of thecontents. "Shall we read it now?"

  "Yes, I should like to read it," she answered quietly.

  The document was a short one. It had evidently been drawn by Vaughanhimself, for it was written simply and without legal phrases. It hadbeen witnessed by Henry and Katherine Schneider, and was dated only aweek previously--but three days before the murder.

  "Who are these witnesses?" I asked.

  "They are the cook and the gardener."

  "Do you recognise your father's writing?"

  "Oh, yes; there can be no question as to that."

  It was a peculiar writing, and a very characteristic one; not easy toread until one grew accustomed to it. But at the end of a few minutesI had mastered it. The provisions of the will were simple: Elmhurstand the sum of one million dollars in negotiable securities were leftabsolutely to "my dear and revered Master, Francisco Silva, Priest ofthe Third Circle of Siva, and Yogi of the Ninth Degree, to whom I owemy soul's salvation," the bequest to be used for the purpose offounding a monastery for the study of the doctrines of Saivaism, andas an asylum for all true believers. The remainder of his estate wasleft absolutely to his daughter, to dispose of as she saw fit. "It is,however, my earnest wish", the will concluded, "that my daughterMarjorie should enter upon the Way, and accept the high destiny whichthe Master offers her as a Priestess of our Great Lord. May theAll-Seeing One guide her steps aright!"

  There was a moment's silence as I finished; then I glanced at MissVaughan. Her eyes were fixed; her face was rapt and shining.

  She felt my gaze upon her, and turned to face me.

  "As your attorney, Miss Vaughan," I said, "it is my duty to advise youthat this will would probably not hold in law. I think it would becomparatively easy to convince any court that your father was not ofsound mind when he drew it. You see, Senor Silva," I added, "thatthere is at once a conflict of interests."

  But Silva shook his head with a little smile.

  "There is no conflict," he said. "If Miss Vaughan does not approve herfather's wishes, they are as though they were not!"

  "I do approve them" the girl cried passionately, her hands againsther heart. "I do approve them!"

  "All of them?" I asked.

  She swung full upon me, her eyes aflame.

  "Yes, all of them!" she cried. "Oh, Master, receive me!" and she flungherself on her knees by Silva's chair.