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Updated: June 11, 2025
"In my day I have seen King Charles at Hampton Court my Lady Castlemaine, and Mistress Frances Stewart, who married a Duke and had her eyes put out by smallpox and her face spoiled forever, poor soul; and De Querouaille the one you will call Carwell, which is not her name, but a French one and Mazarin and all could see Nell Gwynne who could pay for a seat in the play-house so I may well be a judge of women and have lived gayly myself about the Court.
As the car drew up in front of the Carwell mansion, from the bell of which fluttered a dismal length of crepe, a man stepped from the shadow of the gate posts and held out a paper to Harry Bartlett. "What is it?" asked Bartlett. "A subpoena," was the rather gruff answer. "A subpoena? What for?" "The coroner's inquest. You'll have to appear and give evidence.
They were in the house of death, and they had to do with more than death, for there was, in the reputed action of Horace Carwell, the hint of disgrace which suicide always engenders. "I suppose," began Captain Poland, rather weakly, "that there can be no chance of error He looked from one medical man to the other. "Not the least in the world!" quickly exclaimed Baird.
"Won't you come in, Colonel Ashley? It may be some one I would want you to see, also." As Viola, followed at a little distance by the colonel, entered the library, a large, blonde woman arose to meet her. "I am so glad to see you, my dear Miss Carwell," began the woman, and then Colonel Ashley had one of his questions answered.
"He did, but it seems that he and his family have a penchant for doing that sort of thing, and, some years ago, in one of the big mergers in which his family took a prominent part, they, or some one connected with them, pinched the Honorable Horace Carwell so that he squealed for mercy like a lamb led to the Wall street slaughter house." "So that's the game, is it?" "Yes.
We understood that his lordship, Mosha de Carwell, was main bad. Ha, sir, we shall all feel his loss, poor, dear, noble gentleman; and I'm sure nobody more polite! They do say, sir, his wealth is enormous, and before the Revolution, quite a prince in his own country! But I beg your pardon, sir; 'ow I do run on, to be sure; and doubtless all beknown to you already!
"It was very good of you to come, Colonel Ashley," said Viola quietly. "I appreciate it more than I can express at this time." "I'm very glad to come," said the colonel as he held her hand in his warm, firm clasp. "I am only sorry that it was necessary to send for me on such an occasion. Believe me, I will do all I can for you, Miss Carwell. Your father was my very good friend." "Thank you.
And as it'll come out, sooner or later, I might as well tell you now," he said, with rather an air of desperation, and as though driven to it. "Have you heard any rumors that Mr. Carwell is in financial difficulties?" "Why, no! The idea! I always thought he had plenty of money. Not a multi-millionaire, of course, but better off financially than any one else in Lakeside."
Then, by an effort, he composed himself, and quietly answered: "I can prove every word I say, and I will take immediate steps to do so. Mr. Carwell paid me the fifteen thousand dollars on the twenty-third, and I " "He paid you the money on the twenty-third? the very day he died?" cried Harry. "Yes." "Then Why, good heavens, man! Don't you see what this means?
But Viola Carwell never heard the last words, for she really fainted this time, and Captain Poland laid her gently down on the soft, green grass. "Better get the doctor for her," he advised Bartlett. "She'll need him, if her father doesn't."
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