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Was the pivot on which turned the whole mystery of the poisoning at Gleninch the missing key? I went back for the third time to my desk. The one person who might be trusted to find the answer to those questions was Mr. Playmore.
MY letter from Mr. Playmore, inclosing the agent's extraordinary telegram, was not inspired by the sanguine view of our prospects which he had expressed to me when we met at Benjamin's house.
He wrote very briefly, neither approving nor blaming my decision, but strongly reiterating his opinion that I should do well to choose a competent witness as my companion at my coming interview with Dexter. The most interesting part of the letter was at the end. "You must be prepared," Mr. Playmore wrote, "to see a change for the worse in Dexter.
"Why, to hear you speak, mistress, it would almost seem you had a fondness for the man who killed your father, who went to jail for it, and " "And became a mutineer," intervened the girl flushing. "Why not say all? Why not catalogue his offences? Fondness for the man who killed my father, you say! Yes, I had a deep and sincere fondness for him ever since I met him at Playmore over seven years ago.
Quite incredible, and nevertheless quite true." "Impossible!" I exclaimed. "What is impossible?" he asked, coolly "That Dexter poisoned my husband's first wife." "And why is that impossible, if you please?" I began to be almost enraged with Mr. Playmore. "Can you ask the question?" I replied, indignantly.
Playmore, without keeping you waiting for it!" He shook his head, in grave disapproval of my impetuosity. In my former interview with him we had never once touched on the question of money. I was now, for the first time, to make acquaintance with Mr. Playmore on the purely Scotch side of his character.
Was Dexter the man to forgive that? My own experience answered me, and said, No. "Bear in mind what I have told you," Mr. Playmore proceeded. "And now let us get on to your own position in this matter, and to the interests that you have at stake. Try to adopt my point of view for the moment; and let us inquire what chance we have of making any further advance toward a discovery of the truth.
"I don't believe they can do it, master. Dublin and Ireland think more of you than they did of Erris Boyne. There's nothing behind you except the wildness of youth nothing at all. If anny one had said to me at Playmore that you'd do the things you've done with drink and cards since you come to Dublin, I'd have swore they were liars.
Playmore, telling him plainly what my position was, and withdrawing, at once and forever, from all share in investigating the mystery which lay hidden under the dust-heap at Gleninch. It is not to be disguised or denied that my spirits were depressed on my journey to London. Still, even if the opportunity had been offered to me, I would not have recalled my letter to Mr. Playmore.
This gentleman, it may be remembered, had especially recommended himself to my confidence by his friendly interference when the sheriff's officers were in search of my husband's papers. Referring back to the evidence Of "Isaiah Schoolcraft," I found that Mr. Playmore had been called in to assist and advise Eustace by Miserrimus Dexter.
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