Part 21 (2/2)

The girl fairly shuddered at this suggestion. She hesitated, and for a moment was unable to speak. Of course this behavior on her part filled my soul with awful apprehension. Could it be possible that she and Louis were in collusion, and that she dreaded the Frenchman's disclosures? I remembered the strange looks he had cast at her while being questioned by the coroner. I remembered his vehement denial of having pa.s.sed the office that evening,--too vehement, it now seemed to me. However, if I were to learn anything damaging to Florence Lloyd's integrity, I would rather learn it now, in her presence, than elsewhere. So I again asked her to send for the valet.

With a despairing look, as of one forced to meet an impending fate, she rose, crossed the room and rang a bell. Then she returned to her seat and said quietly, ”You may ask the man such questions as you wish, Mr.

Burroughs, but I beg you will not include me in the conversation.”

”Not unless it should be necessary,” I replied coldly, for I did not at all like her making this stipulation. To me it savored of a sort of cowardice, or at least a presumption on my own chivalry.

When the man appeared, I saw at a glance he was quite as much agitated as Miss Lloyd. There was no longer a possibility of a doubt that these two knew something, had some secret in common, which bore directly on the case, and which must be exposed. A sudden hope flashed into my mind that it might be only some trifling secret, which seemed of importance to them, but which was merely a side issue of the great question.

I considered myself justified in taking advantage of the man's perturbation, and without preliminary speech I drew the transfer from my pocket and fairly flashed it in his face.

”Louis,” I said sternly, ”you dropped this transfer when you came home the night of Mr. Crawford's death.”

The suddenness of my remark had the effect I desired, and fairly frightened the truth out of the man.

”Y-yes, sir,” he stammered, and then with a frightened glance at Miss Lloyd, he stood nervously interlacing his fingers.

I glanced at Miss Lloyd myself, but she had regained entire self-possession, and sat looking straight before her with an air that seemed to say, ”Go on, I'm prepared for the worst.”

As I paused myself to contemplate the att.i.tudes of the two, I lost my ground of vantage, for when I again spoke to the man, he too was more composed and ready to reply with caution. Doubtless he was influenced by Miss Lloyd's demeanor, for he imitatively a.s.sumed a receptive air.

”Where did you get the transfer?” I went on.

”On the trolley, sir; the main line.”

”To be used on the Branch Line through West Sedgwick?”

”Yes, sir.”

”Why did you not use it?”

”As I tell you, sir, and as I tell monsieur, the coroner, I have spend that evening with a young lady. We went for a trolley ride, and as we returned I take a transfer for myself, but not for her, as she live near where we alight.”

”Oh, you left the main line and took the young lady home, intending then yourself to come by trolley through West Sedgwick?”

”Yes, sir; it was just that way.”

At this point Louis seemed to forget his embarra.s.sment, his gaze strayed away, and a happy expression came into his eyes. I felt sure I was reading his volatile French nature aright, when I a.s.sumed his mind had turned back to the pleasant evening he had spent with his young lady acquaintance. Somehow this went far to convince me of the fellow's innocence for it was quite evident the murder and its mystery were not uppermost in his thoughts at that moment. But my next question brought him beck to realization of the present situation.

”And why didn't you use your transfer?”

”Only that the night, he was so pleasant, I desired to walk.”

”And so you walked through the village, holding, perhaps, the transfer in your hand?”

”I think, yes; but I do not remember the transfer in my hand, though he may have been there.”

And now the man's unquiet had returned. His lips twitched and his dark eyes rolled about, as he endeavored in vain to look anywhere but at Miss Lloyd. She, too, was controlling herself by a visible effort.

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