Whoso Findeth a Wife. Le Queux William
been extinct for fully an hour.”
“What is the cause of death?” inquired Mrs Laing, eagerly.
“I have not yet examined the body, but there are no marks of violence whatever, as far as I can observe. At the post-mortem we may be able to discover something.”
She drew a deep breath. I chanced at that moment to glance at her, and was surprised to observe an unmistakable look of terror flit for a brief instant across her haggard countenance. It seemed as though the doctor’s hope of determining the cause of death had aroused within her a sudden apprehension. Dr Allenby, however, suggested, in polite terms, that she should leave the room, as he desired to examine the body, and she reluctantly consented, exclaiming, as she moved slowly out, —
“I would have given worlds to have avoided all this. One’s name will be bruited about in the papers; and there will be an inquest, I suppose, and all that sort of thing. And dear Ella – what a terrible blow it will be to her!” Then, when the door had closed, while I stood gazing upon my intimate friend who, only an hour before, had been so full of life’s enjoyment, buoyant spirits and bonhomie, surprised at Mrs Laing’s extraordinary manner, and reflecting upon her sudden strange demeanour, the doctor, assisted by Beck, began a minute and careful examination. In a quarter of an hour, they satisfied themselves that no violence had been used, and just as they concluded, the police, who had been sent for, arrived. The local sub-divisional inspector, tall, red-faced, and inclined to obesity, a plain-clothes constable, and a sergeant in uniform, who entered the drawing-room, were at once informed of the mysterious circumstances in which the body had been discovered. The inspector scribbled some brief notes, took the names and addresses of all of us, remarking with politeness that we should be compelled to attend the inquest.
Afterwards, the body was removed to the billiard-room and the plain-clothes constable left in charge of it, while, with Beck and Dr Allenby, I entered the dining-room where Mrs Laing, pale, agitated and nervous, was eagerly awaiting us. The arrival of the police in her house had apparently filled her with dread, for almost the first question she asked me was, —
“Have they gone? Have they gone?”
“They have left one officer on duty to prevent the body being touched,” I answered.
“Then the police are absolutely in possession of my house! Will they search it?” she inquired hoarsely.
“Search it! Certainly not,” I answered. “Of course, if foul play were suspected, they might. Otherwise they have no power without a search-warrant properly signed by a magistrate.”
“But no violence is suspected,” she exclaimed in a half whisper, glancing over to where the doctor and Beck were standing in earnest conversation. “I shall therefore be spared the indignity of having my house searched, sha’n’t I?”
“I trust so, Mrs Laing,” I replied. “But it is not such a dreadful ordeal, after all, to have one’s place rummaged.”
“No, perhaps not,” she answered thoughtfully; then, smiling, she added, “Perhaps I am foolish to regret that this terrible affair has occurred at my very door. Poor Dudley has died suddenly, and it is only right that I, his intimate friend, should do what I can to ensure the last rite being carried out in decency. But the very thought of the police unnerves me! and I fear, too, on Ella’s account. Only yesterday Dr Allenby told her that she must carefully avoid any shock.”
“But she must know the truth to-morrow,” I observed.
“Will you break the dreadful news to her?” she urged. “As her betrothed, you, perhaps, can tell her better than anyone else.”
“Unfortunately I shall be unable,” I said. “This evening I received a very urgent telegram which recalls me to town, and having now lost my last train, I must go by the 6:30 in the morning. I cannot get back before late in the evening, or it may be next day. But as soon as possible I will return straight here, and render you whatever assistance is in my power.”
“Thanks. But is your business so very urgent?” she asked.
“Of greatest importance. Poor Dudley’s tragic end has delayed me, and even this brief delay may be of most serious consequence.”
“Ah! you men in the Foreign Office are always full of deep schemes and clever diplomacy,” she smiled, toying with her mass of rings.
I laughed, but did not reply.
“Is it on Foreign Office business that you are compelled to leave us?” she persisted, glancing at me keenly, I thought, as if intent upon ascertaining the purport of the telegram I had received.
“Yes,” I replied, in wonder that she should thus evince such a strong desire to glean the nature of my business. But next instant it occurred to me that possibly she might suspect me of being implicated in some mysterious manner with my friend’s sudden end, and that, believing I desired to escape, was determined at least to know where I was going, and upon what errand.
At that moment Beck crossed to us, saying, —
“This affair is certainly most distressing, Mrs Laing. Dudley was such an excellent fellow that we must each one of us regret his loss very deeply indeed. I have just been discussing the matter with the doctor; but, of course, he can at present form no conjecture as to the cause of death.”
“Natural causes, no doubt,” chimed in the medical man, in a dry, business-like tone. “I think we may at once dismiss all idea that violence was used.”
“You think so?” inquired Mrs Laing, with eagerness. “You don’t believe, then, he has been a victim of foul play?”
“Not at all. Beyond the slight bruise on the forehead, evidently caused by the fall upon the gravel, there is no mark whatever,” the doctor answered. “Until I have made a thorough examination I cannot, of course, determine the nature of the fatal cause. By noon to-morrow we shall, I hope, know the truth.”
“He must have fallen and expired within ten minutes of leaving the house,” Beck exclaimed. “Yet when he shook hands with us he was in the highest possible spirits. How terribly sudden his end was.”
“Terrible!” I exclaimed, myself dazed by the peculiarly tragic and mysterious affair. “When he wished us adieu he could not have dreamed that his life had so nearly run its course.”
“He complained of no pain during the evening, I suppose?” the doctor inquired.
“Not to my knowledge,” Beck answered, and this statement I was compelled to endorse.
“He dined here?” Dr Allenby exclaimed, turning to Mrs Laing.
“Yes.”
“There are some remains of the food left, I presume?”
“No doubt,” she answered quickly. “But – but what do you suspect! Are the symptoms those of poisoning?” she gasped.
“I suspect nothing,” replied the doctor, with hesitation. “The fact that the hands are tightly clenched suggests a final paroxysm of pain which might possibly accrue from poison. The remains of the dinner may be required for analysis, therefore it would be advisable to keep them.”
“Very well,” she answered, a shadow of annoyance upon her face. “I’ll give orders to that effect. But surely, doctor, you do not think poor Dudley can have been poisoned in my house. If anything we had for dinner had been deleterious, all of us must have suffered.”
“No, pardon me for disagreeing,” he answered politely. “In many cases known to toxicologists, families have eaten of the same meal, and one person only has been seized with sudden illness that has proved fatal. By analysis we may obtain some clue as to the cause of Mr Ogle’s unfortunate end.”
Mrs Laing’s thin lips moved, but no sound escaped them. At last, turning suddenly, she covered her face with her hands, as if to shut out from her gaze the white, haggard countenance she had so recently looked upon.
“Come,” exclaimed the doctor, sympathetically, laying his hand upon her arm. “You are trembling. This unfortunate occurrence has no doubt upset