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Indiman looked at me, and we trooped out with the rest que voulez-vous? One must always dine. We found a small table; the napery and glass were exquisite, the cuisine and service perfect. We surrendered ourselves to the allurements of the hour. I was conscious of an unusual lightness and exhilaration of spirit; Indiman's eyes were sparkling with unwonted brilliancy.
The dead man was David Magnus. I went straight from William H. Seward Square to our boarding-house. A bulky package had just come for me through a special-delivery messenger. It contained negotiable securities to the amount of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars; also a half-dozen sheets of letter-paper in Indiman's handwriting.
When I returned to the library I found Grenelli seated at one end of the big centre-table and Indiman opposite him. In Indiman's right hand was a revolver, and the express package, addressed to S. A. Davidge, Exeter, England, lay on the table between them. The arrangement looked studied. It gave me an uncomfortable feeling a well-founded one, as I was immediately to learn.
At the end, knowing himself to be dying, he had caused the original to be returned to the gallery at Petersburg, a contribution to the conscience fund. Indiman's argument was more subtle. "Granted," he said, "that the poor chap was mentally irresponsible, and that he actually did steal the picture. But you must take into account his colossal vanity, his monumental egotism.
You had better leave the club at once; this atmosphere is not the most wholesome for a man in your position." Mr. Sydenham proved most amenable to all of Indiman's suggestions, and we did not lose sight of him until he was finally on his way uptown in a Columbus Avenue car. "A good subject," remarked Indiman, "and it should be comparatively easy to get at the submerged consciousness in his case.
Private business called me to Washington the next day, and I had to take the night train back, arriving in New York at the uncomfortably early hour of seven. But it was some small satisfaction to rap vigorously upon Indiman's door as I passed to my own room. One always experiences a sense of virtue in being up at unseasonable hours, and blessings should be shared with one's friends.
Incapacity, failure, disease, death-they are generated by the violet rays alone; eliminate them, and the problem of existence is solved. All hail to thee, O Magnus, and to thy incomparable genius! Light of lights! All hail!" A score of voices took up the cry, and I know that I shouted with the rest. Then I felt Indiman's hand upon my arm; my sober senses partially returned.
"At five minutes to eight I will tell you," he said, in a loud, overbearing voice. "Very good," answered Indiman, placidly. But the fellow's courage deserted him at the pinch, in accordance with Indiman's prediction. He sat there dry-lipped and wet-browed, a half-burned cigarette in his yellow-stained fingers, and his eyes fixed immovably on Indiman's watch.
I confess that I was mightily excited when the moment came to test the correctness of Indiman's deductions. We were shown into a private room, and, under Mr. Sandford's eye, the treasure-box belonging to him was carried in and opened. Almost at the bottom lay a long, brown Manila envelope fastened with three red rubber bands. It contained fifty one-thousand-dollar bills.
A cry burst from his lips; he reeled and fell, the money still clutched in his hand. Instantly we were at his side. A coach was at hand, and we got him into it and directed the driver to proceed to Indiman's lodgings. The attack had been but a momentary one, and Sydenham revived as we turned out of Park Row. He looked at us, then at the money in his hand.
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