A Modern Wizard. Ottolengui Rodrigues
thoughts, for sums varying in proportion to the credulity of the applicant, and when all was told, it could not be truthfully said that either, or all, had discovered about Dr. Medjora aught save that which he may have permitted them to learn. Probably no one thoroughly understood Dr. Medjora, except Dr. Medjora himself. That he did comprehend himself, appreciating exactly his abilities and his limitations, there cannot be a shadow of a doubt. And it was this that made him such a master of men, being as he was so completely the master of himself. Those who felt bound to admit that in his presence they dwindled even in their own estimation, attributed it to various causes, all erroneous, the true secret being what I have stated. Some said that it was a certain magnetic power which he exerted through his eyes. The Doctor's eyes certainly were remarkable. Deep set in the head, and thus hidden by the beautifully arched brows, they seemed to lurk in the shadow, and from their point of vantage to look out at, and I may say into, the individual confronting him. I remember the almost weird attraction of those eyes when I first met him. Being at the time interested in an investigation of the phenomena which have been attributed to mesmerism, hypnotism, and other "isms" which are but different terms for the same thing, I could not resist the impulse to ask him whether he had ever attempted any such experiments. Evading my question, without apparently meaning to shirk a reply, he merely smiled and said, "Do you believe in that sort of thing?" Then he passed on and spoke to some one else. I relate the incident merely to show the manner of the man. But on the point, raised by some, that he controlled men by supernatural means, I think that we must dismiss that hypothesis as untenable in the main. Of course those who believed that he possessed some uncanny or mysterious power of the eyes, might be influenced by his keen scrutiny, and would probably reveal whatever he were endeavoring to extort from them. But a true analysis would show that this was but an exhibition of their weakness, rather than of his strength. Yet, after all, the man was excessively intellectual, and as the eyes have been aptly called the "windows of the soul," what more natural than that so self-centred and wilful a man should find his lustrous orbs a great advantage to him through life?
At the moment of his entrance into the private office of Messrs. Dudley & Bliss, those two young men had partly decided that he was a murderer. At sight of him, they both abandoned the conclusion. Thus it will be seen that, if brought to the bar of justice, his presence might equally affect the jury in his behalf. He held his polished silk hat in his gloved hand, and looked keenly at each of the lawyers in turn. Then turning towards Mr. Dudley he said:
"You are Mr. Dudley, I believe? The senior member of your firm?"
Mr. Bliss was insensibly annoyed, although very fond of his partner. Being only two years his junior, he did not relish being so easily relegated to the secondary status.
"My name is Dudley," replied the elder lawyer, "but unless you have met me before, I cannot understand how you guessed my identity, as my partner is scarcely at all younger than I am." Mr. Dudley understood his partner's character very well, and wished to soothe any irritation that may have been aroused. Dr. Medjora grasped the situation instantly. Turning to Mr. Bliss he said with his most fascinating manner:
"I am sure you are not offended at my ready discrimination as to your respective ages. It is a habit of mine to observe closely. But youth is nothing to be ashamed of surely, or if so, then I am the lesser light here, for I am perhaps even younger than yourself, Mr. Bliss, being but twenty-seven."
"Oh, not at all!" exclaimed Mr. Bliss, much mollified, and telling the conventional lie with the easy grace which we all have acquired in this nineteenth century. "You were quite right to choose between us. Mr. Dudley is my superior – "
"In the firm name only, I am sure," interjected the Doctor. "Will you shake hands, as a sign that you forgive my unintentional rudeness? But stop. I am forgetting. I see that you have just been reading the announcement" – he pointed to the newspaper lying where Mr. Bliss had dropped it on a chair, folded so that the glaring head-lines were easily read – "that I am a murderer!" He paused a moment and both lawyers colored deeply. Before they could speak, the Doctor again addressed them. "You have read the particulars, and you have decided that I am guilty. Am I not right?"
"Really, Dr. Medjora, I should hardly say that. You see – " Mr.
Dudley hesitated, and Dr. Medjora interrupted him, speaking sharply:
"Come! Tell me the truth! I want no polite lying. Stop!" Mr. Dudley had started up, angry at the word "lying." "I do not intend any insult; but understand me thoroughly. I have come here to consult you in your professional capacity. I am prepared to pay you a handsome retainer. But before I do so, I must be satisfied that you are the sort of men in whose hands I may place my life. It is no light thing for a man in my position to intrust such an important case to young men who have their reputations to earn."
"If you do not think we are capable, why have you come to us?" asked
Mr. Bliss, hotly.
"You are mistaken. I do think you capable. But think is a very indefinite word. I must know before I go further. That is why I asked, and why I ask again, have you decided, from what you have read of my case, that I am guilty? Upon your answer I will begin to estimate your capability to manage my case."
The two young lawyers looked at each other a moment, embarrassed, and remained silent. Dr. Medjora scrutinized them keenly. Finally, Mr. Dudley decided upon his course, and spoke.
"Dr. Medjora, I will confess to you that before you came in, and, as you have guessed, from reading what the newspaper says, I had decided that you are guilty. But that was not a juridical deduction. That is, it was not an opinion adopted after careful weighing of the evidence, for, as it is here, it is all on one side. I regret now that I should have formed an opinion so rashly, even though you were one in whom, at the time, I supposed I would have no interest."
"Very good, Mr. Dudley," said the Doctor. "I like your candor. Of course, it was not the decision of the lawyer, but simply that of the citizen affected by his morning newspaper. As such, I do not object to your having entertained it. But now, speaking as a lawyer, and without hearing anything of my defence, tell me what value is to be put upon the evidence against me, always supposing that the prosecution can bring good evidence to sustain their position."
"Well," replied Mr. Dudley, "the evidence is purely circumstantial, though circumstantial evidence often convinces a jury, and convicts a man. It is claimed against you that you have disappeared. From this it is argued that you are hiding from the police. The next deduction is, that if you fear the police, you are guilty. Per contra, whilst these deductions may be true and logical, they are not necessarily so; consequently, they are good only until refuted. For example, were you to go now to the District Attorney and surrender yourself, making the claim that you have been avoiding the police only to prevent arrest, preferring to present yourself to the law officers voluntarily, the whole theory of the police, from this one standpoint, falls to the ground utterly worthless."
"Very well argued. Do you then advise me to surrender myself? But wait! We will take that up later. Let me hear your views on the next fact against me. I refer to the statement that poison was found in the body."
"Several interesting points occur to me," replied Mr. Dudley, speaking slowly. "Let me read the newspaper account again." He took up the paper, and after a minute read aloud: "'The result of the autopsy, etc., etc., shows conclusively that the girl was poisoned. The doctors claim to have discovered morphine enough to kill three men.' That is upon the face of it a premature statement. The woman died on Sunday morning. The autopsy was held yesterday. I believe it will require a chemical analysis before it can be asserted that morphine is present. Am I not correct?" The Doctor made one of his non-committal replies.
"Let us suppose that at the trial, expert chemists swear that they found morphine in poisonous quantities."
"Even then, the burden of proof would be upon the prosecution. They must prove not merely that morphine was present in quantities sufficient to cause death, but that in this case it did actually kill. That is, they must show that Mabel Sloane died from poison, and not from diphtheria. That will be their great difficulty. We can have celebrated experts, as many as you can afford, and even though poison did produce the death, we can create such a doubt from the contradictions of the experts, that the jury would give you the verdict."
"Very satisfactorily