Three millions! or, The way of the world
landing-place on The Great Bell. It contained three persons; and after
Dick Birch had gone up to the house for Julia, Dr. Bilks and Eugene
walked over to the spot where the murder had been committed. The island
had been visited by hundreds of curious persons during the afternoon,
who desired to examine the locality of the terrible affair. The deputy
sheriff was there when they arrived, making another visit to the spot
for the purpose of obtaining further information in regard to the
circumstances. The sheriff was in possession of all the facts imparted
by Ross Kingman, and he was now examining the beach, where the stranger
was last seen by the prisoner.
“It’s a plain case,” said the official to Eugene, after they had shaken
hands, and spoken of the event in general terms. “Ross don’t cover up
anything, but he thinks it is not murder to kill such a man.”
“He was very much exasperated by the conduct of Buckstone. Has any new
discovery been made?”
“We have got a clew to the man who was with Buckstone,” replied the
sheriff.
“Ah! Have you?” said Dr. Bilks, nervously.
“We have found the boat in which Buckstone and the other man came over
to the island.”
“Where did you find it?”
“Over by the Point.”
“How do you know it was the boat in which they came over?”
“It was hauled up on the sand; there,” said he, pointing to the marks
of the boat, “you can see the prints of the lap streaks. That deep
mark was made by a ledge on the boat, nailed on to keep the bottom
from chafing. I brought the boat over here, and measured the distance
between the keel and this ledge, and it exactly corresponded with these
prints.”
“What does this prove in regard to the man with Buckstone?”
“It proves that he landed there by the Point, for one thing. A
handkerchief and a cigar were found in the boat. Here they are,” he
added, producing the articles. “Do you know them?”
The handkerchief had the letters R. B. upon it.
“By Heaven! this is Dick Birch’s handkerchief!” exclaimed Eugene.
“Impossible!” ejaculated Dr. Bilks. “He declared that he was not the
person, you remember.”
“But he was the person,” added the sheriff, decidedly.
“Why do you say he was?” demanded Eugene, who would as readily have
believed Dick Birch guilty of the murder as of the duplicity and
falsehood.
“Ross Kingman thought it was Mr. Birch.”
“Did he say so?”
“He did.”
“Did he say positively it was Mr. Birch?”
“Not positively.”
“Let me see the cigar. Dick smokes a peculiar brand,” continued Eugene,
excitedly.
The sheriff handed him the cigar, and it was carefully examined by
Eugene and the doctor.
“That’s Dick’s brand, without a doubt,” replied Eugene, bewildered by
the conclusion thus forced upon him.
“Here he comes; he will speak for himself,” added the doctor, as Dick
and Julia descended the rocks to the beach.
Julia had expressed a desire to see the spot where the murder was
committed, and Dick had taken her to the cliff for this purpose.
Seeing Eugene and Dr. Bilks on the beach, they joined them there.
“Where did you leave this handkerchief, Dick?” asked Eugene, as his
friend approached the spot.
“I’m sure I don’t know,” he answered, taking the handkerchief. “Where
did you find it?”
“Did you lose it, Dick?”
“I suppose I did, if you found it, though I hadn’t missed it. Did you
find it here?”
“No; it was not found here,” replied the sheriff.
“Is this one of your cigars, Dick?”
“Yes; you can’t find such cigars as that at any shop this side of
Boston; and I don’t think you can find them there now. That’s one of my
brand. Did you find it with the handkerchief?”
“It was found with the handkerchief,” said Eugene, averting his sad
face.
“What does all this mean? What ails you, Hungerford?” demanded Dick,
astonished at the singular conduct of his friend.
“I suppose he doesn’t want to say much about it,” interposed the
sheriff; “and I will do the talking.”
“Will you? You will oblige me by doing it as speedily as possible,”
replied Dick, whose flushed and indignant face sufficiently explained
his feelings.
“You are believed to be the person who was with Mr. Buckstone at the
time he was murdered, or just before the event.”
“Who believes me to be the person?” asked Dick, who seemed to grow an
inch taller, as his head was involuntarily thrown back by the impulse
of his natural pride.
“I do, for one,” answered the deputy sheriff.
“What reason have you for thinking so?”
“Because your handkerchief, and one of your cigars, which can only be
obtained in Boston, were found in the boat that made those marks on
the beach,” answered the official, pointing to the prints.
“They were found in that boat--were they?” said Dick, apparently as
much astonished as Eugene.
“They were; more than this, Ross Kingman, who thinks as much of you as
of any other man in the world,--unless it be Mr. Hungerford,--believes
that you were the man he saw with Mr. Buckstone.”
“I have nothing to say,” replied Dick.
“Speak, Dick! Tell me it is not so, and I will believe you before all
the rest of the world!” exclaimed Eugene.
“Not a word, Hungerford, to-night,” answered Dick, proudly. “I am not
prepared to speak yet.”
“Don’t be angry with me, Dick.”
“Certainly not, Hungerford. There is my hand,” said Dick. “Appearances
are against me. When I have cleared myself of the charge of falsehood,
I will come into your presence again, but not till then.”
“Come, Dick,” added Eugene, taking his hand; “this shall not part us
even for an hour.”
“It must; I told you and Dr. Bilks this morning that I was not the
person. You despise a liar; so do I. Good night, Hungerford;” and
springing up the rocks, he disappeared beyond the bluff, heeding not
the calls of his friend.
Before the party could reach the landing-place, he was seen in a boat
crossing the channel towards the Port.
CHAPTER XIII.
DICK UNDER A SHADOW.
“What does all this mean, Eugene?” asked Julia, perplexed and troubled
by the singular conduct of Dick Birch, as well as by the facts which
had been developed by the deputy sheriff.
“I don’t know, Julia; it is all as new to me as it is to you,” replied
Eugene.
“With what is he charged?”
“With nothing, Miss Hungerford,” interposed the sheriff, wishing to
remove any wrong impression from her mind. “If Mr. Birch was with Mr.
Buckstone at the time of the murder, or just before, we should like to
use him as a witness.”
“Mr. Birch says he was not with him.”
“I see no reason why he should deny the fact, if it is a fact,” said
Eugene. “If he met Buckstone, he did so with the best of motives.”
“I have no doubt of it,” added Dr. Bilks, who had all this time been
watching the effect upon Julia. “Mr. Birch is one of the truest and
noblest men it was ever my good fortune to meet.”
“But the evidence goes to show that he was with Buckstone; that he was
the person whom Ross Kingman saw with him,” continued the sheriff.
“I shall be obliged to follow up Mr. Birch till he can give me a
satisfactory account of himself at the time of the murder.”
“Ross left me at nine o’clock last evening,” continued Eugene,
recalling the circumstances.
“Did you see Mr. Birch after that time?” asked the sheriff.
“I did.”
“Dick was with mother and me till we heard Ross leave the house,” said
Julia. “Then he went into the library, where you were; and we were so
tired that we went to bed immediately.”
“Mr. Birch joined me in the library just after Ross left me. I told him
what had passed between us, and that I feared, if Ross saw Buckstone,
he would do some rash deed; but he seemed to have no fears.”
“Did he say anything about Mr. Buckstone’s being in town?” asked the
sheriff.
“Not a word.”
“Did you have any conversation with him about Buckstone, after your
return yesterday?”
“I did; he proposed to send for Buckstone, and remove all doubts in
regard to Mary’s marriage, by having it performed over again.”
“Precisely so; then he had business with Buckstone,” said the sheriff.
“What time did you leave Mr. Birch?”
“He went into the office about half past nine; and being exhausted by
my journey, and the want of sleep on my voyage, I retired.”
“You left him in the office?”
“I did.”
“Did any of your servants see him after this time?”
“I don’t know.”
“I should like to question them before I see Mr. Birch again,” added
the officer, who seemed to be satisfied that he was making out a case.
“I will give you all the assistance in my power, but I am perfectly
satisfied that Mr. Birch will conceal nothing,” replied Eugene,
confidently.
“I do not know that he has any reason to conceal anything.”
“It is possible that he intended to settle up this unpleasant affair
of Buckstone’s marriage--in which, for Mary’s sake, I have taken some
interest--without troubling me.”
“But he said distinctly that he was not with Buckstone,” interposed Dr.
Bilks; “and when Mr. Birch says a thing, he means it. In my opinion,
he was not with him. I will take his word for it against all the
circumstances that can combine against him.”
This was confiding, generous, and even magnanimous on the part of Dr.
Bilks, and Julia bestowed a smile of grateful acknowledgment upon him.
“I agree with you entirely, doctor; but it will be doing Dick a favor
to inquire into the matter.”
The sheriff had no further business on the island, and he accepted
Eugene’s invitation to accompany him to Pine Hill. Dr. Bilks was very
attentive to Julia, and while the other two gentlemen talked about the
murder, he made himself as agreeable as possible to her. He assured her
that Dick was incapable of deceit; if the handkerchief and cigar had
been found in the boat, some one else had placed them there. It was not
possible that even the suspicion of duplicity should rest upon him, and
it would all be satisfactorily cleared up within a few days, if not
hours. The carriage was waiting on the wharf when the boat arrived, and
the whole party started for Pine Hill. When they reached the mansion,
the sheriff was conducted to the library, and all the servants were
sent for; but none of them had seen Mr. Birch after Eugene retired for
the night.
The man servant thought he heard him go out at the front door about
half past nine, but was not very sure. It was this man’s business to
see that the front door was locked, the windows fastened, and all
the fires and lights extinguished before he went to bed; and he had
attended to this duty, as usual, about ten o’clock.
“Was the front door locked?” asked the sheriff.
“No, sir.”
“Did you lock it?”
“No, sir.”
“Why not?”
“Because I thought Mr. Birch might be out.”
“Did you know he was out?”
“No; I only thought so, because I had heard the door open, as I said.”
“Are you sure you heard the door opened?”
“I’m not certain. There is a night lock on the door, so that it was
fastened.”
“What time does Mr. Birch usually retire?”
“About ten or eleven.”
“Why didn’t you go to his room, and see whether he was in or not?”
asked the sheriff.
“Because I didn’t want to disturb him, if he had gone to bed.”
“Then you went to bed leaving the door unlocked?”
“It was fastened by the night lock.”
“How did you find it this morning?”
“Just as I left it last night.”
“Did you go to Mr. Birch’s room this morning?”
“I never go to his room; it isn’t my business.”
“Who makes the bed?”
“The chambermaid, of course.”
The chambermaid was called. Mr. Birch’s bed had been occupied. No one
knew that he had gone out, after half past nine; no one knew that
he had not. Parkinson, the man servant in the house, was a sharp,
intelligent mulatto, imported from the city. He was strongly attached
to Dick, and did not understand what the sheriff wished to make out of