Round the Block Part 46

"Why should it surprise you? It is a simple act of justice. I have reason to think that my son knows something about this murder" (here the old gentleman's voice faltered); "and my duty, as a good citizen and an honest man, requires me to surrender him. There are other affairs of a private nature between myself and my son--he knows to what I refer --which I am not prepared to make public at the present time." The old gentleman looked significantly at his son, who smiled calmly at him in return.

A chair was brought for Mr. Van Quintem, sen., and he sank into it. The young man seated himself in another chair which was handed to him by the attentive coroner himself.

"Now, Myndert, my good fellow," said the coroner, "if yer knows anything about this affair, fire away."

"Will the coroner be good enough to swear the witness?" asked Fayette Overtop.

"Oh! I'd quite forgot it." And the coroner mumbled his irreverent jargon.

"Two minutes are enough to tell you all I know, Harry," said the young man, in a sweet, effeminate voice. "I happened to save Miss Minford's life, a few months ago--she will give you the particulars, no doubt, if you desire them--and that is the way I made her acquaintance." (Here another respectful bow to the young lady.) "Since then, I have met her, quite accidentally, a few times, and--I do not pretend to conceal it--have gradually come to feel an interest--a brotherly interest, I may call it--in her." (The coroner smiled.) "Having learned from her that she was receiving her education at the expense of Mr. Wilkeson, and that that gentleman was a constant visitor at her father's house I thought it proper, as a sincere and disinterested friend of the young lady, to make some inquiries into his character. Judging, from the result of these inquiries, that his designs were not honorable toward Miss Minford--Mr. Wilkeson will pardon the expression, but I am under oath, and must tell the truth as to my motives--I took the liberty of writing a note to Mr. Minford, merely cautioning him against Mr. Wilkeson. I did not sign my name to the note, because I was not personally acquainted with Mr. Minford--in fact, never saw him in my life--and did not wish to a.s.sume the responsibility, disagreeable to every sensitive person, of interfering in another man's family affairs. The object of the note was to make Mr. Minford cautious. I presume no one will undertake to say that a father can be too cautious concerning the honor of a young and lovely daughter." (Another respectful glance at Miss Minford.) "I am aware anonymous letters are a little irregular, in the opinions of most people. But, when sent with a good motive, I really don't see the harm in them."

"Nor I neither," said the coroner. "It strikes me they're correct enough when the motive's a good 'un."

"But, your Honor, when an anonymous letter is full of lies and slanders, I respectfully submit that it is a piece of cowardly malice, which the law ought to punish with the utmost severity." Fayette Overtop spoke with tranquillity and firmness, looking young Van Quintem directly in the eye, and making him quail.

The judicious phrase, "Your Honor," alone saved Overtop from an explosion of official wrath. "The Court can't allow these interruptions, Mr. Overtop," said the coroner. "Her dignity must be maintained. As for 'nonymous letters, whether it's right or wrong to send them, people will differ. The coroner and the jury is competent to judge for themselves.

Go ahead, Myndert."

"As the first letter seemed to have no effect, I sent another, suggesting that Mr. Minford should inquire into Mr. Wilkeson's history in the little village of----, Westchester County, where he was born, and lived many years. I learned from Miss Minford that her father visited Westchester County one day, and presume that he made some important discoveries there; for Miss Minford told me, that, on his return, he had forbidden Mr. Wilkeson to come to the house. If there was any harm in putting Mr. Minford on the track to find out the real truth about the man who was a constant attendant at his fireside, I do not see it."

"Nor I neither," said the coroner. "The end, as the sayin' is, justifies the means."

"If your Honor pleases," said the facile Overtop, "we could easily prove that all the reports which Mr. Minford gathered in Westchester County, prejudicial to my client, arose from a confounding of another person with him. But, as this explanation would involve the disclosure of private family affairs, and also the reflection of disgrace on the memory of the dead, my client prohibits me from saying more on the subject. But all this, as none knows better than your Honor, has nothing to do with the case. We ask that my client shall either be proved guilty of the murder, or of some knowledge of it, or released."

Fayette Overtop here looked volumes of confidence at the jury; and five of the jury looked back volumes of agreement with him.

"n.o.body can be in a bigger hurry than me, Mr. Overtop," said the coroner, with tolerable good nature. "These 'ere inquests, commencin' in the mornin' and holdin' on a good part of the day, are rather hard on a chap 'customed to his 'leven-o'clock drink. I have to make up for the loss by adjournin' early in the arternoon. Ha! ha! Now, Myndert, my boy, rush her through. You don't know anythin' about the murder, I s'pose.

You were somewhere else on the fatal night, of course--and I can guess where. At Brown's, eh?"

Brown's was a notorious gambling house on Broadway.

"Exactly, Harry. I was at Brown's from nine P.M. to four o'clock the following morning. And, if I mistake not, there is a gentleman in this room who can swear to having seen me there, say from ten to eleven."

Saying this, young Van Quintem winked hard at the coroner.

"You needn't mince matters," said the coroner. "I was at Brown's that night, and between the hours you name. Being a public officer, I sometimes look into Brown's, and a good many other places, too, to see that nothin' a'n't a-goin' on wrong. Ha! I partickly 'member it, because I accidentally lost about fifty dollars there that night. Ha! ha!"

"I think I recollect the little circ.u.mstance," said the witness, with a smile.

"Very likely. Ha! Now, Myndert, of course we all understand that you are innocent; but, to satisfy the public, I guess I'd better summon a few witnesses from Brown's, to prove you were there all night."

"I thought of that, Harry, and requested a number of my friends at Brown's to drop around here, and prove an _alibi_ for me. They were very much engaged at the time, or they would have come with me."

"They were playing faro," said the old gentleman, "and my son was gambling with them. Wretched young man, how often have I cautioned you against that vice!"

"The cautioning I don't object to," said the son; "but I consider it unfair to drag a fellow away from a streak of good luck. I was raking in the piles just as you and the policeman, and that mop-headed youth behind you" (he alluded to the boy Bog) "came down on me. Ah! I see the game is finished, and here they are."

Four men, of a highly correct appearance, dressed in quiet good taste, who would have pa.s.sed in the Broadway muster for merchants of the severest practical variety, entered the room.

They nodded in the most gentlemanly manner to the coroner, and gave a friendly recognition to young Myndert.

"You may be willing to believe these polished scoundrels under oath; but hang me if I would!" said the old gentleman, with emphasis.

The four gamblers showed their even rows of white teeth pleasantly, and one of them replied:

"You are an elderly gentleman, Mr. Van Quintem, and the father of our young friend; and, of course, you are permitted to abuse us as much as you like."

"It seems to me, Mr. Van Quintem," said the coroner, "that you are rather hard on these gen'lemen, who, so fur as I know 'em, is of the highest respectability. Don't yer want to have yer son prove an _alibi?_"

"I want to have him prove the truth, and that's all. And for that reason I wouldn't credit such evidence as these men will give."

"You would like to have me hanged, my dear father," said the son, mildly; "but I don't think you will be gratified in that amiable little desire. Eh, Harry?"

The coroner grinned, s.h.i.+fted his quid, put on his most serious official look, and said:

"No more of this 'ere jokin', if you please, gen'lemen. A inquest isn't zactly the place for fun."

He then proceeded to swear and interrogate the four new witnesses. They took the oath decorously, kissing the book in the politest, most gentlemanly manner. Their testimony was to the effect that young Van Quintem pa.s.sed the night of the murder, from ten P.M. till four A.M., at Brown's, and was not absent one minute. They were able to corroborate the fact, by a reference to pocket memorandum books, in which entries such as "Van Q., debit $50," or "Van Q., credit $100," appeared at intervals. As to the general character of the house, upon which several members of the jury asked questions, they testified that it was a species of club house, where a few gentlemen of excellent reputation occasionally met for the purposes of innocent social intercourse. Games of chance were sometimes played at Brown's, to while away an hour; and betting was now and then done, in a strictly honorable and legitimate way. Several of the jurymen would have improved the occasion, to learn all about the internal management of Brown's; but the coroner decided that such questions were entirely "relevant" (meaning irrelevant), and suggested that, as there were no more witnesses, the case might as well go to the jury. The coroner had just consulted his watch, and found that it was four o'clock. He was aware, from the turn things had taken, that he had lost the verdict which he hoped to obtain; but that was no reason why he should lose his dinner. The coroner was not a man of energy; and, being foiled in his efforts to convict Marcus Wilkeson, he had no disposition to pursue the matter further. Besides, he had already achieved a large measure of profitable notoriety from the case; for he had been ridiculed and abused in most of the city papers; and _that_ insured him, beyond all doubt, the nomination for and election to the State Senate, for which he was an aspirant at the next fall campaign.

Under all these circ.u.mstances, the coroner was satisfied.

The jurors, receiving but a s.h.i.+lling a day, and being hungry and tired, were quite willing to wind up the case. After putting their heads together, whispering and nodding about five minutes, the foreman declared the following as their verdict:

"That the deceased, Eliphalet Minford, came to his death, on the night of the ---- day of April, 185-, from a wound inflicted on the head by a club in the hands of some person unknown to the jurors."

Overtop and Maltboy took the verdict as a matter of course, having antic.i.p.ated it for some time. Marcus Wilkeson, who had been in a gloomy stupor for the past hour, and had expected the worst, looked up in surprise at this lucky dispensation of Fate. Tears sprang to his eyes, and he extended a hand to each of his faithful friends, by whom he was warmly congratulated on the happy issue of the affair. The jurors also came forward with their congratulations. Even the coroner said, "Well, Mr. Wilkeson, I did my pootiest to hold you, because I thought you was the murderer; but the jury doesn't indorse my 'pinion, and I gives in."

Mrs. Crull, who had been watching Marcus narrowly, and was firmly impressed with the conviction of his innocence, came forward with a warm hand, and tried to think of a proverb suitable to the occasion, but could not. Patty Minford removed the veil from her face, and looked at her benefactor. She made a motion as if to rise and go toward him. Then an expression of doubt stole over her features; and Marcus, who observed her at that moment, knew that the vision of the night was still before her, and that she could not hold him guiltless though a dozen juries had released him. This thought touched Marcus with sadness, which all the congratulations of his friends could not disperse.

A faint cry was heard. Old Mr. Van Quintem had fallen from his chair, and would have dropped upon the floor, but for the strong arm of the boy Bog. He was in the act of rising from his seat for the purpose of offering his hand to Marcus, when the vertigo, from which he was an occasional sufferer, seized him.

"Poor old gentleman!" said Marcus, forgetful of all else, and rus.h.i.+ng to the side of his venerable friend. Directing that the windows be opened, Marcus, aided by the boy Bog, bore the senseless form to the fresh, cool air. The grateful breeze, and a cup of cold water applied to his brow, soon restored the wretched father to a beginning of consciousness.

As he lay there, more dead than alive, in the arms of his two friends, the ingrate son, having lighted a cigar, looked coldly over the shoulders of the bystanders at the senseless figure of his father, and said, in the sweetest voice:

"Poor old fellow! He has only himself to blame for kicking up all this row. I told him it would be too much for his nerves; but he would insist on dragging me up here. I forgive him from the bottom of my heart."

The bystanders looked on in amazement at this speech.

The son continued: "I'm glad to see that he is in good hands. Upon my word, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to help a little; but I fear that, when the old man came out of it, and saw me over him, he would go off again. So I guess I had better leave."

And young Van Quintem sauntered cheerfully out of the room, in company with his four friends from Brown's. The coroner had been waiting at the foot of the stairs for them; and the party adjourned to the nearest drinking saloon, when the coroner, overjoyed at having got rid of a tedious and embarra.s.sing case, stood treat for one round.

But who killed the inventor?

The papers and the police, after groping for weeks in search of the answer, turned it over to the solution of Time, with the comforting a.s.surance that MURDER WILL OUT.

BOOK TENTH.