The Jewel of Seven Stars by Bram Stoker (books to read in your 20s TXT) 📕
There was a long pause, and I ventured to take her hand for an instant. Without a word more we opened the door, and joined the Superintendent in the hall. He hurried up to us, saying as he came:
"I have been examining everything myself, and have sent off a message to Scotland Yard. You see, Mr. Ross, there seemed so much that was odd about the case that I thought we had better have the best man of the Criminal Investigation Department that we could get. So I sent a note asking to have Sergeant Daw sent at once. You remember him, sir, in that American poisoning case at Hoxton."
"Oh yes," I said, "I remember him well; in that and other cases, for I have benefited several times by his skill and acumen. He has a mind that works as truly as any that I know. When I have been for the defence, and believed my man was innocent, I was glad to have him against us!"
"That is high praise, si
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over to the door, threw it open, and strode into the passage, calling
loudly:
“Help! Help!”
In an instant the two Detectives, Mrs. Grant, and the Nurse appeared on
the scene. Close on their heels came several of the servants, both men
and women. Immediately Mrs. Grant came near enough, I placed Miss
Trelawny in her arms, and rushed back into the room, turning up the
electric light as soon as I could lay my hand on it. Sergeant Daw and
the Nurse followed me.
We were just in time. Close under the great safe, where on the two
succesive nights he had been found, lay Mr. Trelawny with his left arm,
bare save for the bandages, stretched out. Close by his side was a
leaf-shaped Egyptian knife which had lain amongst the curios on the
shelf of the broken cabinet. Its point was stuck in the parquet floor,
whence had been removed the bloodstained rug.
But there was no sign of disturbance anywhere; nor any sign of any one
or anything unusual. The Policemen and I searched the room accurately,
whilst the Nurse and two of the servants lifted the wounded man back to
bed; but no sign or clue could we get. Very soon Miss Trelawny returned
to the room. She was pale but collected. When she came close to me she
said in a low voice:
“I felt myself fainting. I did not know why; but I was afraid!”
The only other shock I had was when Miss Trelawny cried out to me, as I
placed my hand on the bed to lean over and look carefully at her father:
“You are wounded. Look! look! your hand is bloody. There is blood on
the sheets!” I had, in the excitement, quite forgotten Silvio’s scratch.
As I looked at it, the recollection came back to me; but before I could
say a word Miss Trelawny had caught hold of my hand and lifted it up.
When she saw the parallel lines of the cuts she cried out again:
“It is the same wound as Father’s!” Then she laid my hand down gently
but quickly, and said to me and to Sergeant Daw:
“Come to my room! Silvio is there in his basket.” We followed her, and
found Silvio sitting in his basket awake. He was licking his paws. The
Detective said:
“He is there sure enough; but why licking his paws?”
Margaret—Miss Trelawny—gave a moan as she bent over and took one of
the forepaws in her hand; but the cat seemed to resent it and snarled.
At that Mrs. Grant came into the room. When she saw that we were
looking at the cat she said:
“The Nurse tells me that Silvio was asleep on Nurse Kennedy’s bed ever
since you went to your Father’s room until a while ago. He came there
just after you had gone to master’s room. Nurse says that Nurse Kennedy
is moaning and muttering in her sleep as though she had a nightmare. I
think we should send for Dr. Winchester.”
“Do so at once, please!” said Miss Trelawny; and we went back to the
room.
For a while Miss Trelawny stood looking at her father, with her brows
wrinkled. Then, turning to me, as though her mind were made up, she
said:
“Don’t you think we should have a consultation on Father? Of course I
have every confidence in Doctor Winchester; he seems an immensely clever
young man. But he is a young man; and there must be men who have
devoted themselves to this branch of science. Such a man would have
more knowledge and more experience; and his knowledge and experience
might help to throw light on poor Father’s case. As it is, Doctor
Winchester seems to be quite in the dark. Oh! I don’t know what to do.
It is all so terrible!” Here she broke down a little and cried; and I
tried to comfort her.
Doctor Winchester arrived quickly. His first thought was for his
patient; but when he found him without further harm, he visited Nurse
Kennedy. When he saw her, a hopeful look came into his eyes. Taking a
towel, he dipped a corner of it in cold water and flicked on the face.
The skin coloured, and she stirred slightly. He said to the new nurse—
Sister Doris he called her:
“She is all right. She will wake in a few hours at latest. She may be
dizzy and distraught at first, or perhaps hysterical. If so, you know
how to treat her.”
“Yes, sir!” answered Sister Doris demurely; and we went back to Mr.
Trelawny’s room. As soon as we had entered, Mrs. Grant and the Nurse
went out so that only Doctor Winchester, Miss Trelawny, and myself
remained in the room. When the door had been closed Doctor Winchester
asked me as to what had occurred. I told him fully, giving exactly
every detail so far as I could remember. Throughout my narrative, which
did not take long, however, he kept asking me questions as to who had
been present and the order in which each one had come into the room. He
asked other things, but nothing of any importance; these were all that
took my attention, or remained in my memory. When our conversation was
finished, he said in a very decided way indeed, to Miss Trelawny:
“I think, Miss Trelawny, that we had better have a consultation on this
case.” She answered at once, seemingly a little to his surprise:
“I am glad you have mentioned it. I quite agree. Who would you
suggest?”
“Have you any choice yourself?” he asked. “Any one to whom your Father
is known? Has he ever consulted any one?”
“Not to my knowledge. But I hope you will choose whoever you think
would be best. My dear Father should have all the help that can be had;
and I shall be deeply obliged by your choosing. Who is the best man in
London—anywhere else—in such a case?”
“There are several good men; but they are scattered all over the world.
Somehow, the brain specialist is born, not made; though a lot of hard
work goes to the completing of him and fitting him for his work. He
comes from no country. The most daring investigator up to the present
is Chiuni, the Japanese; but he is rather a surgical experimentalist
than a practitioner. Then there is Zammerfest of Uppsala, and Fenelon
of the University of Paris, and Morfessi of Naples. These, of course,
are in addition to our own men, Morrison of Aberdeen and Richardson of
Birmingham. But before them all I would put Frere of King’s College. Of
all that I have named he best unites theory and practice. He has no
hobbies—that have been discovered at all events; and his experience is
immense. It is the regret of all of us who admire him that the nerve so
firm and the hand so dexterous must yield to time. For my own part I
would rather have Frere than any one living.”
“Then,” said Miss Trelawny decisively, “let us have Doctor Frere—by the
way, is he ‘Doctor’ or ‘Mister’?—as early as we can get him in the
morning!”
A weight seemed removed from him, and he spoke with greater ease and
geniality than he had yet shown:
“He is Sir James Frere. I shall go to him myself as early as it is
possibly to see him, and shall ask him to come here at once.” Then
turning to me he said:
“You had better let me dress your hand.”
“It is nothing,” I said.
“Nevertheless it should be seen to. A scratch from any animal might
turn out dangerous; there is nothing like being safe.” I submitted;
forthwith he began to dress my hand. He examined with a
magnifying-glass the several parallel wounds, and compared them with the
slip of blotting-paper, marked with Silvio’s claws, which he took from
his pocket-book. He put back the paper, simply remarking:
“It’s a pity that Silvio slips in—and out—just when he shouldn’t.”
The morning wore slowly on. By ten o’clock Nurse Kennedy had so far
recovered that she was able to sit up and talk intelligibly. But she
was still hazy in her thoughts; and could not remember anything that had
happened on the previous night, after her taking her place by the
sick-bed. As yet she seemed neither to know nor care what had happened.
It was nearly eleven o’clock when Doctor Winchester returned with Sir
James Frere. Somehow I felt my heart sink when from the landing I saw
them in the hall below; I knew that Miss Trelawny was to have the pain
of telling yet another stranger of her ignorance of her father’s life.
Sir James Frere was a man who commanded attention followed by respect.
He knew so thoroughly what he wanted himself, that he placed at once on
one side all wishes and ideas of less definite persons. The mere flash
of his piercing eyes, or the set of his resolute mouth, or the lowering
of his great eyebrows, seemed to compel immediate and willing obedience
to his wishes. Somehow, when we had all been introduced and he was well
amongst us, all sense of mystery seemed to melt away. It was with a
hopeful spirit that I saw him pass into the sick-room with Doctor
Winchester.
They remained in the room a long time; once they sent for the Nurse, the
new one, Sister Doris, but she did not remain long. Again they both
went into Nurse Kennedy’s room. He sent out the nurse attendant on her.
Doctor Winchester told me afterward that Nurse Kennedy, though she was
ignorant of later matters, gave full and satisfactory answers to all
Doctor Frere’s questions relating to her patient up to the time she
became unconscious. Then they went to the study, where they remained so
long, and their voices raised in heated discussion seemed in such
determined opposition, that I began to feel uneasy. As for Miss
Trelawny, she was almost in a state of collapse from nervousness before
they joined us. Poor girl! she had had a sadly anxious time of it, and
her nervous strength had almost broken down.
They came out at last, Sir James first, his grave face looking as
unenlightening as that of the sphinx. Doctor Winchester followed him
closely; his face was pale, but with that kind of pallor which looked
like a reaction. It gave me the idea that it had been red not long
before. Sir James asked that Miss Trelawny would come into the study.
He suggested that I should come also. When we had enterd, Sir James
turned to me and said:
“I understand from Doctor Winchester that you are a friend of Miss
Trelawny, and that you have already considerable knowledge of this case.
Perhaps it will be well that you should be with us. I know you already
as a keen lawyer, Mr. Ross, though I never had the pleasure of meeting
you. As Doctor Winchester tells me that there are some strange matters
outside this case which seem to puzzle him—and others—and in which he
thinks you may yet be specially interested, it might be as well that you
should know every phase of the case. For myself I do not take much
account of mysteries—except those of science; and as there seems to be
some idea of an attempt at assassination or robbery, all I can say is
that if assassins were at work they ought to take some elementary
lessons in anatomy before their next job, for they seem thoroughly
ignorant. If robbery were their purpose, they seem to
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