F—, a small town, some sixteen or seventeen miles from R—, had for its Methodist minister, in July of last year, a man who has since died, Samuel Stebbins by name.
Date of decease, Jan. 7 of this year.
“4.
Name of man in employ of S.
S. at that time is Timothy Cook.
He has been absent, but returned to P— two days ago.
Can be seen if required.”
“Ah, ha!” I cried aloud at this point, in my sudden surprise and satisfaction; “now we have something to work upon!” And sitting down I penned the following reply:
“T.
C. wanted by all means.
Also any evidence going to prove that H.
C. and E.
L. were married at the house of Mr. S. on any day of July or August last.”
Next morning came the following telegram:
“T.
C. on the road.
Remembers a marriage.
Will be with you by 2 p.m.”
At three o’clock of that same day, I stood before Mr. Gryce.
“I am here to make my report,” I announced.
The nicker of a smile passed over his face, and he gazed for the first time at his bound-up finger-ends with a softening aspect which must have done them good.
“I’m ready,” said he.
“Mr. Gryce,” I began, “do you remember the conclusion we came to at our first interview in this house?”
“I remember the one you came to.”
“Well, well,” I acknowledged a little peevishly, “the one I came to, then.
It was this: that if we could find to whom Eleanore Leavenworth felt she owed her best duty and love, we should discover the man who murdered her uncle.”
“And do you imagine you have done this?”
“I do.”
His eyes stole a little nearer my face.
“Well! that is good; go on.”
“When I undertook this business of clearing Eleanore Leavenworth from suspicion,” I resumed, “it was with the premonition that this person would prove to be her lover; but I had no idea he would prove to be her husband.”
Mr. Gryce’s gaze flashed like lightning to the ceiling.
“What!” he ejaculated with a frown.
“The lover of Eleanore Leavenworth is likewise her husband,” I repeated. “Mr. Clavering holds no lesser connection to her than that.”
“How have you found that out?” demanded Mr. Gryce, in a harsh tone that argued disappointment or displeasure.
“That I will not take time to state.
The question is not how I became acquainted with a certain thing, but is what I assert in regard to it true.
If you will cast your eye over this summary of events gleaned by me from the lives of these two persons, I think you will agree with me that it is.”
And I held up before his eyes the following:
“During the two weeks commencing July 6, of the year 1875, and ending July 19, of the same year, Henry R.
Clavering, of London, and Eleanore Leavenworth, of New York, were guests of the same hotel. Fact proved by Visitor Book of the Hotel Union at R—, New York.
“They were not only guests of the same hotel, but are known to have held more or less communication with each other. Fact proved by such servants now employed in R— as were in the hotel at that time.
“July 19.
Mr. Clavering left R— abruptly, a circumstance that would not be considered remarkable if Mr. Leavenworth, whose violent antipathy to Englishmen as husbands is publicly known, had not just returned from a journey.
“July 30.
Mr. Clavering was seen in the parlor of Mr. Stebbins, the Methodist minister at F—, a town about sixteen miles from R—, where he was married to a lady of great beauty. Proved by Timothy Cook, a man in the employ of Mr. Stebbins, who was called in from the garden to witness the ceremony and sign a paper supposed to be a certificate.
“July 31.
Mr. Clavering takes steamer for Liverpool. Proved by newspapers of that date.
“September.
Eleanore Leavenworth in her uncle’s house in New York, conducting herself as usual, but pale of face and preoccupied in manner. Proved by servants then in her service. Mr. Clavering in London; watches the United States mails with eagerness, but receives no letters.