The Mystery of Lincoln's Inn Part 18

"Yes."

"Most extraordinary thing I ever heard of!" exclaimed the policeman.

"There's something very strange here."

"My father, as you can see for yourself," interposed Gilbert, "is ill; he is in no fit state to stay here a moment longer than is necessary.

But if I can help you, I shall be glad to do so."

"Mr. Eversleigh ought to go home at once," said the doctor.

"That is all right," said the policeman.

"Do you report to Inspector Gale?" asked Gilbert of the policeman; "I know him very well."

"Yes; I shall report to him. And in the mean time these chambers must be closed up and sealed. The inspector will no doubt come and examine everything in them. This is the usual procedure. And of course there will be a coroner's inquest. Nothing more can be done at present, I think. Please sir, do not touch the body," he added, speaking to the doctor, who was scrutinizing it carefully.

"If I went to Scotland Yard, should I find the inspector in?" asked Gilbert.

"You'll find him there at 2.30."

"And there is nothing more that can be done just now?"

"Nothing."

Leaving Silwood's chambers in the charge of the policeman, who had now been reinforced by the arrival of two other constables, the two Eversleighs, the doctor, the locksmith, and the porter filed out of the chamber of mystery and death. As they entered the court of Stone Buildings, they saw that little knots of people had collected, who were discussing something that evidently was unusually interesting. The fact was that the porter, on his way for the doctor and the policeman, had let fall hints of what had been found. The Eversleighs were asked by some gentlemen of the long robe, whom they knew, what was the truth of the matter, and they put before them the bare facts. But the porter and the locksmith were not so reticent. The former gossiped freely, but not without a fitting sense of the greatness of the occasion. The latter went into Chancery Lane by the iron-gated footway leading from the court of Stone Buildings and saw a crowd gathered on the pavement opposite the windows of Cooper Silwood's chambers. Already it had been spread abroad that these chambers had been the scene of some astounding tragedy. The locksmith, on being asked by some one in the crowd if he could throw any light on the subject, forthwith poured forth all he knew, declaring that undoubtedly Morris Thornton, whose dead body had been discovered in Silwood's room, had been foully murdered. And when the rumour ran that it was the body of the Missing Millionaire, of whom everybody had heard, the excitement rose to fever heat in the crowd.

A pa.s.sing reporter, on the staff of one of the evening papers, saw the crowd, and was soon in possession of the pith of the news, but desirous of getting the fullest particulars, he sought out the locksmith, who told him the whole story, again reiterating his conviction that there had been a murder of the blackest kind.

Thus it was the locksmith's idea of what had happened that coloured the tone of the papers that evening, all of whom made the most of "THE MYSTERY OF LINCOLN'S INN" and "THE MURDER OF THE MISSING MILLIONAIRE,"

as they ent.i.tled it on their bills in the largest of capitals.

And the affair quickly created an extraordinary sensation.

CHAPTER XIV

It was nearly two o'clock that Sat.u.r.day afternoon when Francis Eversleigh, supported by Gilbert and the doctor, left Silwood's chambers in Stone Buildings. He stopped on his way to his office, as has been said, to gratify the curiosity of some of his acquaintances; but he was so weak and unsteady that the doctor soon forbade him, and rightly, to exert himself even to talk.

On the arrival of the little party at 176, New Square, they were met by Ernest Eversleigh and Williamson the head-clerk, who were anxiously awaiting them, as a rumour had already reached them of the discovery of the body in Silwood's rooms; the report, however, had been so vague that they could not believe it. Williamson, in particular, was sceptical.

Ernest eagerly pressed his father and brother for information; the doctor, however, would not allow Francis Eversleigh to speak, and Gilbert said that he would presently tell them all, but that he must first attend to his father, who was far from well.

"Just one word, Mr. Gilbert," said Williamson. "Is it true that the body of Mr. Morris Thornton was found in Mr. Silwood's sitting-room?--that is the rumour."

"Yes, it is quite true."

Williamson, on hearing this, fell back, with a look of the profoundest astonishment on his face. Up to this time he had not believed it, because, if it were true, then the suspicions which he had for some time entertained appeared to be more than confirmed, but he had not looked for so startling a confirmation.

"I was right," he told himself. "I wish I could get to the bottom of it."

Francis Eversleigh meanwhile went up to his room on the second floor, and now the doctor insisted that he must remain quiet. Further, the doctor said that he himself would go out to obtain some suitable nourishment for him. As he withdrew from the room, he beckoned to Gilbert.

"Do not leave your father," he said to Gilbert, in the pa.s.sage. "I am afraid he is ill--of what I cannot say, but it is easy to see that his vitality is very low. Has he suffered from some severe illness--some bad attack recently?"

"No. He has been ailing slightly for a few weeks past--that is all."

"He seems to me to be very much run down," the doctor went on. "You must make a point of getting him to see his own physician--the family doctor.

In the mean time, I'll fetch him a strong pick-me-up and some light, nouris.h.i.+ng food of which he stands much in need. After he has had it, he should be taken home at once, and put to bed as soon as possible."

"Very well," agreed Gilbert; and the doctor went on his way down the stairs. Gilbert returned to his father's room.

Father and son, now left alone for the first time since the discovery of Morris Thornton's body, looked at each other strangely. Gilbert's gaze seemed to ask the question, "What is the meaning of all this?" His father understood him but darkly, for he was suffering from a frightful obsession which numbed his brain. He was powerless to think coherently; all that he could fix his mind upon was merely what was nearest him, or what was immediately happening. It was this which explained his next words.

"What was the doctor saying to you, Gilbert?" he asked.

"Well, he said you were run down, and wanted bracing up," replied Gilbert.

"Was that it?"

"Yes; and I must say that it is not surprising you're ill, after two such shocks as you have received to-day."

Then there was silence between them. Strange thoughts, half-formed suspicions crowded upon Gilbert in that pause. He glanced at his father, uncertain whether to speak to him or not.

"Father," he said at last, "I do not like to press the subject on you when you are so far from strong; but how do you account for Morris Thornton's body being found in Mr. Silwood's chambers--have you formed any theory?"

"I know no more about it than you," cried Francis Eversleigh, wildly; "and I do not know what to think.... I cannot think about it at all ...

my brain refuses to act.... I have no idea ... it is all a terrible and horrible mystery to me!"

And then he flung up his hands, as if he were throwing off some weight which oppressed him.

"Oh, it is dreadful, dreadful, dreadful!" he cried; then burst into a pa.s.sion of sobs, the sound and sight of which moved and distressed Gilbert exceedingly.

"Father! Father!" said the son, soothingly, in accents of deepest sympathy.

In a few moments Eversleigh grew calmer, and became a little more like his usual self.

"There is just one thing I'd like to ask you, father," said Gilbert; "that is, if it is not too painful for you."

"What is it, my son?"

"You uttered one word in that room over there," returned Gilbert, nodding in the direction of Stone Buildings.

"What?"

"The one word was 'Murder!' Do you think Mr. Thornton was murdered?"

Francis Eversleigh stared about him with dilated eyes, as might some being who was persecuted and hunted.