<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_VIa" id="CHAPTER_VIa"></SPAN>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
<h3>ANSWERED.</h3>
<p>A silence more or less surcharged with emotion followed this final
appeal. Then, while the various auditors of this remarkable history
whispered together and Thomas Adams turned in love and anxiety toward
his wife, the inspector handed back to Mr. Gryce the memorandum he had
received from him.</p>
<p>It presented the following appearance:</p>
<div class="sidenote">Answered</div>
<p>1. Why a woman who was calm enough to stop and arrange her hair during
the beginning of an interview should be wrought up to such a pitch of
frenzy and exasperation before it was over as to kill with her own hand
a man she had evidently had no previous grudge against. (Remember the
comb found on the floor of Mr. Adams's bedroom.)</p>
<div class="sidenote">Answered</div>
<p>2. What was the meaning of the following words, written just previous to
this interview by the man thus killed: "I return you your daughter.
Neither you nor she will ever see me again. Remember Evelyn!"</p>
<div class="sidenote">Answered</div>
<p>3. Why was the pronoun "I" used in this communication? What position did
Mr. Felix Adams hold toward this young girl qualifying him to make use
of such language after her marriage to his brother?</p>
<div class="sidenote">Answered</div>
<p>4. And having used it, why did he, upon being attacked by her, attempt
to swallow the paper upon which he had written these words, actually
dying with it clinched between his teeth?</p>
<div class="sidenote">Answered</div>
<p>5. If he was killed in anger and died as monsters do (her own word), why
did his face show sorrow rather than hate, and a determination as far as
possible removed from the rush of over-whelming emotions likely to
follow the reception of a mortal blow from the hand of an unexpected
antagonist?</p>
<div class="sidenote">Answered</div>
<p>6. Why, if he had strength to seize the above-mentioned paper and convey
it to his lips, did he not use that strength in turning on a light
calculated to bring him assistance, instead of leaving blazing the
crimson glow which, according to the code of signals as now understood
by us, means: "Nothing more required just now. Keep away?"</p>
<div class="sidenote">Answered</div>
<p>7. What was the meaning of the huge steel plate found between the
casings of the doorway, and why did it remain at rest within its socket
at this, the culminating, moment of his life?</p>
<div class="sidenote">Answered</div>
<p>8. An explanation of how old Poindexter came to appear on the scene so
soon after the event. His words as overheard were: "It is Amos' son, not
Amos!" Did he not know whom he was to meet in this house? Was the
condition of the man lying before him with a cross on his bosom and a
dagger in his heart less of a surprise to him than the personality of
the victim?</p>
<div class="sidenote">Not Answered</div>
<p>9. Remember the conclusions we have drawn from Bartow's pantomime. Mr.
Adams was killed by a left-handed thrust. Watch for an acknowledgment
that the young woman is left-handed, and do not forget that an
explanation is due why for so long a time she held her other arm
stretched out behind her.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Answered</div>
<p>10. Why did the bird whose chief cry is "Remember Evelyn!" sometimes
vary it with "Poor Eva! Lovely Eva! Who would strike Eva?" The story of
this tragedy, to be true, must show that Mr. Adams knew his brother's
bride both long and well.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Answered</div>
<p>11. If Bartow is, as we think, innocent of all connection with this
crime save as witness, why does he show such joy at its result? This may
not reasonably be expected to fall within the scope of Thomas Adams's
confession, but it should not be ignored by us. This deaf-and-dumb
servitor was driven mad by the fact which caused him joy. Why?<SPAN name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</SPAN></p>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></SPAN> It must be remembered that the scraps of writing in Felix's
hand had not yet been found by the police. The allusions in them to
Bartow show him to have been possessed by a jealousy which probably
turned to delight when he saw his master smitten down by the object of
that master's love and his own hatred. How he came to recognize in the
bride of another man the owner of the name he so often saw hovering on
the lips of his master, is a question to be answered by more astute
students of the laws of perception than myself. Probably he spent much
of his time at the loophole on the stairway, studying his master till he
understood his every gesture and expression.</p>
</div>
<div class="sidenote">Answered</div>
<p>12. Notice the following schedule. It has been drawn up after repeated
experiments with Bartow and the various slides of the strange lamp which
cause so many different lights to shine out in Mr. Adams's study:</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">White light—Water wanted.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Green light—Overcoat and hat to be brought.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Blue light—Put back books on shelves.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Violet light—Arrange study for the night.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Yellow light—Watch for next light.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Red light—Nothing wanted; stay away.<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>The last was on at the final scene. Note if this fact can be explained
by Mr. Adams's account of the same.</p>
<hr style='width: 45%;' />
<p>Two paragraphs alone lacked complete explanation. The first, No. 9, was
important. The description of the stroke dealt by Mr. Adams's wife did
not account for this peculiar feature in Bartow's pantomime. Consulting
with the inspector, Mr. Gryce finally approached Mr. Adams and inquired
if he had strength to enact before them the blow as he had seen it dealt
by his wife.</p>
<p>The startled young man looked the question he dared not ask. In common
with others, he knew that Bartow had made some characteristic gestures
in endeavoring to describe this crime, but he did not know what they
were, as this especial bit of information had been carefully held back
by the police. He, therefore, did not respond hastily to the suggestion
made him, but thought intently for a moment before he thrust out his
left hand and caught up some article or other from the inspector's table
and made a lunge with it across his body into an imaginary victim at his
right. Then he consulted the faces about him with inexpressible anxiety.
He found little encouragement in their aspect.</p>
<p>"You would make your wife out left-handed," suggested Mr. Gryce. "Now I
have been watching her ever since she came into this place, and I have
seen no evidence of this."</p>
<p>"She is not left-handed, but she thrust with her left hand, because her
right was fast held in mine. I had seized her instinctively as she
bounded forward for the weapon, and the convulsive clutch of our two
hands was not loosed till the horror of her act made her faint, and she
fell away from me to the floor crying: 'Tear down the cross and lay it
on your brother's breast. I would at least see him die the death of a
Christian.'"</p>
<p>Mr. Gryce glanced at the inspector with an air of great relief. The
mystery of the constrained attitude of the right hand which made
Bartow's pantomime so remarkable was now naturally explained, and taking
up the blue pencil which the inspector had laid down, he wrote, with a
smile, a very decided "answered" across paragraph No. 9.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_VIIa" id="CHAPTER_VIIa"></SPAN>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
<h3>LAST WORDS.</h3>
<p>A few minutes later Mr. Gryce was to be seen in the outer room, gazing
curiously at the various persons there collected. He was seeking an
answer to a question that was still disturbing his mind, and hoped to
find it there. He was not disappointed. For in a quiet corner he
encountered the amiable form of Miss Butterworth, calmly awaiting the
result of an interference which she in all probability had been an
active agent in bringing about.</p>
<p>He approached and smilingly accused her of this. But she disclaimed the
fact with some heat.</p>
<p>"I was simply there," she explained. "When the crisis came, when this
young creature learned that her husband had left suddenly for New York
in the company of two men, then—why then, it became apparent to every
one that a woman should be at her side who understood her case and the
extremity in which she found herself. And I was that woman."</p>
<p>"You are always that woman," he gallantly replied, "if by the phrase you
mean being in the right place at the right time. So you are already
acquainted with Mrs. Adams's story?"</p>
<p>"Yes; the ravings of a moment told me she was the one who had handled
the dagger that slew Mr. Adams. Afterward, she was able to explain the
cause of what has seemed to us such a horrible crime. When I heard her
story, Mr. Gryce, I no longer hesitated either as to her duty or mine.
Do you think she will be called upon to answer for this blow? Will she
be tried, convicted?"</p>
<p>"Madam, there are not twelve men in the city so devoid of intelligence
as to apply the name of crime to an act which was so evidently one of
self-defence. No true bill will be found against young Mrs. Adams. Rest
easy."</p>
<p>The look of gloom disappeared from Miss Butterworth's eyes.</p>
<p>"Then I may return home in peace," she cried. "It has been a desperate
five hours for me, and I feel well shaken up. Will you escort me to my
carriage?"</p>
<p>Miss Butterworth did not look shaken up. Indeed, in Mr. Gryce's
judgment, she had never appeared more serene or more comfortable. But
she was certainly the best judge of her own condition; and after
satisfying herself that the object of her care was reviving under the
solicitous ministrations of her husband, she took the arm which Mr.
Gryce held out to her and proceeded to her carriage.</p>
<p>As he assisted her in, he asked a few questions about Mr. Poindexter.</p>
<p>"Why is not Mrs. Adams's father here? Did he allow his daughter to leave
him on such an errand as this without offering to accompany her?"</p>
<p>The answer was curtness itself:</p>
<p>"Mr. Poindexter is a man without heart. He came with us to New York, but
refused to follow us to Police Headquarters. Sir, you will find that the
united passions of three burning souls, and a revenge the most deeply
cherished of any I ever knew or heard of, have been thrown away on a man
who is positively unable to suffer. Do not mention old John Poindexter
to me. And now, if you will be so good, tell the coachman to drive me to
my home in Gramercy Park. I have put my finger in the police pie for the
last time, Mr. Gryce—positively for the last time." And she sank back
on the carriage cushions with an inexorable look, which, nevertheless,
did not quite conceal a quiet complacency which argued that she was not
altogether dissatisfied with herself or the result of her interference
in matters usually considered at variance with a refined woman's natural
instincts.</p>
<p>Mr. Gryce, in repressing a smile, bowed lower even than his wont, and,
under the shadow of this bow, the carriage drove off. As he walked
slowly back, he sighed. Was he wondering if a case of similar interest
would ever bring them together again in consultation?</p>
<p>THE END.</p>
<SPAN name="endofbook"></SPAN>
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