Round the Block Part 54

Marcus felt his heart palpitating, and his face growing pale, as they ascended the last flight of stairs, at the head of which were the room and the mystery. The lodgings had not been taken. The rent had been paid by Mr. Minford up to the 1st of May; and no person had been sufficiently charmed with the apartments to hire them since that date.

Upon the door was a placard, announcing that the key could be obtained by application to the floor below. Tiffles went for it, and returned accompanied by an old woman, who looked as if she knew a great deal which she did not care to tell. She had been requested by the landlord to show the apartments to applicants, but not to whisper a word about the murder; and she was almost bursting with her great secret. While the old woman was wondering how much longer she would be able to hold in, Marcus and Tiffles entered the front room, and quietly closed the door in her face. The old woman grumbled at this discourtesy but, as she had a superst.i.tious objection to putting her foot in a room where a murder had been committed, she leaned against the banisters of the stairs, and waited for the visitors' reappearance.

The room looked just as it did on the day of the inquest. The faded and worn furniture was all there; the yellow curtains still covered the windows; the clock still hung against the wall, tickless. Marcus's eyes glanced restlessly about the room for a moment, not daring to look at the spot where the old man had received his death blow. But an inevitable magnetism soon brought his eyes to it, and his heart was lightened as he saw that the blood stains had been carefully wiped out.

The door of the adjoining room--the maiden's bedchamber--was ajar.

Marcus pushed it open with that slow motion which is a token of delicacy and respect. The general appearance of the room was unchanged, as well as Marcus could recollect from the occasional glimpses of it which he had formerly stolen. The little row of dresses which hung on pegs in a corner, and a few simple ornaments, might have been removed, but nothing more. Marcus felt that he was intruding here, and he closed the door.

In the mean time, Wesley Tiffles had been examining the mysterious machine, which stood undisturbed in its corner, with the protecting screen still standing before it. Tiffles had first wiped off the dust, and then looked into it, and through it, and over it, and under it, with an eye that was predetermined to pry out a secret. Then he felt of every wheel, lever, cam, ratchet, drum, and other portion within reach of his fingers. Everything was immovable. Then he stood aloof from the machine, folded his arms, pursed up his lips, and c.o.c.ked an eye at it, as if, by the mere force of intellect, he would compel the dumb thing to give up its mystery.

As Tiffles was applying this species of exorcism in vain, Marcus came to his a.s.sistance.

"What on earth can it be?" exclaimed Tiffles. "Not a new kind of steam engine; or an electrical apparatus; or a clock; or a sewing machine; or anything for spinning, carding, or weaving--nothing that is adapted to any useful labor. These heavy weights, that have fallen on the floor, would give the works a kind of jerky motion for a few seconds, while the weights were descending. Nothing more. But the ultimate purpose of the machine is a puzzler."

"Mr. Minford always said that it was something that would revolutionize the world of industry--that it was a new mechanical principle of universal application."

Tiffles laughed a little. "Excuse my levity," said he, "but inventors--and I am one of them, you know--always claim that they are about to revolutionize the world of industry. I never knew one of them to claim less than that for a patent flytrap or an improved sausage stuffer. Mr. Minford was a man of genius, I dare say, but he probably overestimated the importance of his invention. Have you any objection to my prying the thing apart at this opening? I want to inspect some of the works that are partly concealed. I pledge myself to put it together again as good as new."

CHAPTER II.

A POSTHUMOUS SECRET.

"Go ahead," said Marcus; and Tiffles, inserting his walking stick in a wide gap between two cog wheels, forced the strange machine apart. A large bra.s.s drum upon which a small chain was loosely coiled, fell to the floor. The other portions were not disturbed. Marcus picked up the drum; and Tiffles cast his unerring eye in among the new jumble of wheels and connecting levers that was brought to view.

"Can't make head or tail of it," said he, at length. "Let me see that drum."

Marcus handed it to him. Tiffles took it, like an expert, between a thumb and finger, and tapped it with his stick. It answered back with a m.u.f.fled clink.

"It is hollow, and contains some soft non-metallic substance. Ah! here we have it." And Tiffles, uns.c.r.e.w.i.n.g a nicely fitting cap from the drum, drew out a close roll of paper. He unfolded it with trembling fingers.

The upper portion of the paper was covered with neatly drawn diagrams, which bore some semblance to the machine. Beneath, in the fine copperplate hand of the inventor, were these memorable words:

"_Eliphalet Minford's original plan of_ PERPETUAL MOTION, _to which he has devoted his fortune, and twenty years of labor. Perseverantia vincit omnia_."

"_Christmas Day_, 185-."

Then followed a careful technical description of the plan, and a mention of the fact that on two occasions the machine had moved. One occasion was the night of April 10, 184-, when the ma.s.s of wheels started with a sudden click, but stopped in three seconds by the clock. The other occasion was daybreak, December 30, 185-, when the works began to move of their own accord, and did not stop for six seconds. This record had evidently been made by the inventor for his private reference, and concealed in the bra.s.s drum for safe keeping.

Tiffles read with bated breath; and Marcus listened in astonishment.

"What do you think of it?" asked Marcus.

"I think," replied Tiffles, "with every respect for the memory of the inventor, that he was insane. Perpetual motion, without an exhaustive power--or, in other words, the eternal motion of a thing by its own inherent properties--is a simple impossibility. To cite familiar ill.u.s.trations of its absurdity, you might as well try to lift yourself by the straps of your boots, or pour a quart into a pint pot. I wasted six months on perpetual motion when I was a boy, and gave it up. Every inventive genius bothers his head with this nonsensical problem, till he learns that he is a fool. Of course, I say this with every possible regard for your deceased friend. He was insane on this point--_quoad hoc_, as the lawyers have it--without question, or he would not have thrown away twenty years on it;--or twenty-three years, I should say, since the paper is dated, you observe, three years ago."

"But Mr. Minford says, in that doc.u.ment, that the machine moved twice.

He could have no object in deceiving himself."

"You are wrong there, my friend. Inventors are continually deceiving themselves. Their judgment, their very eyesight becomes worthless in respect to subjects upon which they have labored long and hoped ardently. This machine has evidently been greatly altered from the original plan in the progress of its construction. You observe that these weights do not appear on the diagrams. They were an afterthought--recently put on, I should judge, from the appearance of the cords which hold them. Anybody can see, as I said before, that the weights would move the works spasmodically, so to speak. But this motion cannot be what he alludes to as having taken place on two occasions. Of course, I can't explain what caused the motion on those occasions--if it were a real motion, and not a fantasy of the inventor's brain--but I'll bet my life that any intelligent mechanic could have fully explained it to Mr. Minford at the time. But, mark you, Mr. Minford would never have accepted the explanation. Inventors never take advice."

"So then you are satisfied that this machine is of no value--to Miss Minford--except for old bra.s.s?"

"Oh! I don't say that. Mr. Minford, aside from this absurd crotchet, may have possessed real mechanical genius. Let me see if some part of it may not be good for something besides perpetual motion."

Wesley Tiffles peered down among the brazen and steel complexities again. "Sure enough, here it is," said he; "a splendid window fastener."

"I don't see any window fastener," exclaimed Marcus, looking in the direction of his friend's forefinger.

"There--that cam with a small spring and lever attached. Strength and simplicity combined. I have studied the subject of window fasteners--in fact, have invented three or four, which possessed the extraordinary property of never letting the window up or down when you wanted to move it. I recognize, in this window fastener, my ideal. Marcus, you must patent it for Miss Minford. It will be a sure fortune to her. I'll make the drawings and specifications."

Marcus, sadly happy in the thought of rendering any service to that young lady, readily chimed in with Tiffles's views, and said that the patent should be obtained as soon as might be.

It was then agreed that Tiffles should call on Mrs. Crull, on the following day, and inform Miss Minford of the important discoveries which had been made by him--not mentioning the name of Marcus Wilkeson--and should also offer to remove and dispose of the neglected furniture, as the young lady might think best.

As this conclusion was arrived at, the door opened suddenly. The old lady, being apprehensive, from the long stay of the two visitors, that they were ransacking the rooms and hiding portable articles about their persons, had overcome her superst.i.tious antipathy, and opened the door quickly, so that she might catch them in the act. But they were only standing in the middle of the room, earnestly talking to each other.

The old lady muttered an inaudible apology; and the two friends hastened to take their departure.

CHAPTER III.

OVERTOP FINDS A SENSIBLE WOMAN.

Next morning, Mr. Wesley Tiffles, after an inexpensive breakfast at a cheap restaurant in Chatham street, set out on his mission of goodness.

He was reduced to his last dollar, but felt opulent in the possession of his diamond breastpin--that tower of moral strength to the borrower. He whistled as he walked, and thought what would be the best name for the new patent window fastener of the future. "Union," "American,"

"Columbian," "Peoples'," "Was.h.i.+ngton," "Ne Plus Ultra," and a score more, were turned over and rejected. Finally he settled upon the "Cosmopolitan Window Fastener," meaning that its destined field of usefulness was the whole civilized globe. Patents for it could be and should be obtained in England, France, Germany, Russia, and Spain.

While Wesley Tiffles was taking this rosy view of the "Cosmopolitan Window Fastener," he stumbled upon Fayette Overtop, Esq., who was walking briskly toward his office, and thinking over a hard case in which his services had been secured the day before.

The firm of Overtop & Maltboy had recently come into a small but paying business, in this way: The release of Marcus Wilkeson was generally supposed to have been effected, not by his innocence, but by the skilful and professional, but unprincipled efforts of his legal advisers. Their name was not unfavorably known among the thieves and murderers of the city; and several individuals belonging to those cla.s.ses of society resolved to employ them when they got into their next little difficulty.

And, since the inquest, another thing had greatly contributed to the prosperity of the firm. We allude to the case of Slapman _vs_. Slapman.

This was an action for divorce, with alimony, brought by Mrs. Grazella Jigbee Slapman against her husband, Ferdinand P. Slapman. The ground upon which the separation was sought, was the continual brutality of Mr.

Slapman toward his wife.

It was the law and the custom, in cases where both parties to the action were agreed to that arrangement, to turn over this species of litigation to a referee, who took the testimony in private, heard arguments of counsel, and rendered a decision subject to the confirmation of the Supreme Court. The Court had issued a standing order prohibiting all persons from publis.h.i.+ng (except with the consent of the parties to the action) any further reports of the cases than a simple announcement of the decree, as confirmed by the Court, for or against a divorce. This order was put forth to protect the public from the contaminating example of matrimonial infelicities; though we are not aware that the number of divorce cases has materially decreased, or the standard of public morality been greatly elevated in consequence thereof.

The case of Slapman _vs_. Slapman was on trial before a referee, by mutual agreement of the parties. The newspapers did not report it; but some of them kept hinting at it in an appetizing way. The gentleman whose "gallantry, &c.," was the "remote cause of the action," was described as "a rising young lawyer, who distinguished himself in a recent inquest before Coroner ----, the thrilling particulars of which are still fresh in the minds of our readers;" or as a "young ornament of the legal profession, whose office was not a hundred miles from the corner of Broadway and ---- street" (the precise location of his office). One paper went so far as to say, that the "triumph which this disciple of c.o.ke had achieved in the late _cause celebre_, was only to be equalled by his invariable success in affairs of the heart, &c., &c."

All this caused Fayette Overtop's name to be known by thousands of people. Persons who were seeking divorces, reasoned, strangely enough, that a man whose "gallantry, &c.," was the cause of a divorce, could materially a.s.sist them in severing the matrimonial bonds. Therefore they began to flock to him. He already had five female and two male clients of this description.

When Tiffles stumbled against Fayette Overtop, he at once invited his friend to go with him to Mrs. Crull's. His legal knowledge (of which Tiffles, in common with the public, was beginning to have a high opinion) might be of some service. Overtop had been told by Marcus Wilkeson of the previous day's transactions, and of Wesley Tiffles's intended visit to Miss Minford; and he at once consented to accompany him.

On their way to Mrs. Crull's--whose residence had been ascertained from the Directory--they pa.s.sed Miss Pillbody's select school. Tiffles suggested that it would be well to call on that young lady, and pick up some intelligence of Miss Minford. She might still be receiving lessons from Miss Pillbody; and might, possibly, be in the house at that moment.

Overtop also thought it would not be a bad idea to call there. He had heard much from Marcus Wilkeson in praise of Miss Pillbody, especially of her sensible qualities. Being still in the active pursuit of a sensible woman, he was moved with a real curiosity to see her.

The servant showed the two callers to the speckless little front parlor; and, a minute afterward, Miss Pillbody, looking fresh and neat, her narrow collar white and smooth, and every hair of her heavy brown tresses in its place, made her appearance.