The Mark Of Cain

invariable question, "Do you breakfast out, sir?" If a man were in the condemned cell, his scout (if in

s inquiry; "in common room as usual. Pack my b

into bed, where, feeling alternately hot and cold, he covered himself with his ulster, in addition to his blankets. Anywhere but in college, Maitland would, of course, have rung the bell and called his servant; but in our conservativ

sitting-room. Often had Maitland regretted the chronic cold and handkerchiefless condition of his bedmaker; but now her sn

, and his own voice sounded fai

becoming modesty, punctuated by snif

I do anything

itland, falling back on his pi

eared in d

do look a little flushed. Hadn't I

hom Oxford, especially the younge

ast here. I think I'll be able to start for

sir," answ

n Englishman credit, he sent the college messenger in search of Mr. Whal

ly be, as Maitland remembered after his first feeling of disappointment, at his rooms in London. Neither Miss Marlett, if she had aug

success to his breakfast commons; even

entered. He could not remember having sent for him; but he felt that, as an invalid once sa

Mr. Whalley would call again next day, till whi

ere snowballing a little, and, later, by the scraping shovels of the navvies who had been sent

e form than Whalley had anticipated, and the lungs were affected. Bielby was informed of his state, and came to see him; but Maitland talked so wildly about the Hit or Miss, about the man in the bearskin coat, and other unintelligible mat

onscious of what had passed, and doubly anxious about what wa

aware that he was in Oxford, and sick, consequ

ifth day after his illness began, "would you

bedroom (formed, like many Oxford bedrooms, by a partition added to the large single room of old

the post? Awfully sorry to trouble you, but I can't howl yet for myse

age to Barton in town. Maitland wanted to see him at once, on very pressing business.

stood a silver quart pot, full of "strong," a reminiscence of "the old coaching days," when Maitland had read with Barton for Greats. The invalid's toast and water wore an air of modest conviviality, and might have been mistaken for sherry by anyone who relied merely on such information as is furni

he guardianship of Margaret, and the kind of prospective engagement to that young lady, Barton rose and began to walk about the room. But the old beams creaked unde

s' body in the snow-cart, Barton cried, "Why, you don't mean to say that was the man, the girl's fat

and, whose mind had run so much on Margaret's disappearance that he had given littl

inquest Have you not read t

ut his reading, so far, had been limited to the "Agony Column" of the advertisements (where he half hoped to find some message), and to al

bring in? The usual one, I suppose-'Visitation,' and all that kind of thing,

them; for the medical evidence my worthy partner gave left them no

ief record of the inquest and the verdict; matters so common that their chroni

agraph. "And now I had better go on with my story? But what d

ot enough? I don't know that I sh

ease," said Maitland, moving ner

poor friend was murdered! That's what I meant when I said I did not blame the jury;

rs. As a meteoric stone falls on our planet, strange and unexplained, a waif of the universe, from a nameless system, so the horror of

o one's enemy but his own, that man was Shields! And he literally had nothing that anyone could have wanted to steal. I allowed him so much-a sm

e was, all the same, and that by a very cunning and c

of his ways, were more than enough to account for his death. The exposure, the cold, the mere sleeping in the snow-it's well known to be fatal Why," said Maitland, eagerly, "in a long

efute the horrible conclusion

hook his head. His opin

his death was perfectly natural-that he got drunk, lost his way, laid down in the cart, and perished of exposure? Why, you did not even hear the evidence. I can't mak

ict, on whose evidence they relied. But it is my business; for the said officer is my partner, and, but for me, our business wou

o much, why didn't y

ople, at a wedding, when the death occurred, and they

ible opinion if you were not there, and had only this printed evidence," said Maitland,

Barton, "and I found evidence enough for me-never mind where-to put the matter beyond the reach of doubt. The man

e to make your examination," said Maitl

f paupers-and there was no one to

lucky illness of mine," he said, presently. "In my absence, and as nobody knew where I was, there was naturally no one to claim the body. The kind of people who knew ab

o details which you may say I can hardly prove, and I do

ned? Did you detect arsenic or anythin

most skilled analysis. But, my dear fellow, there are venoms that leave no internal trace. If I am

nswered

lso. He must have been among the Macoushi Indians of Guiana, and well

t be more

u must take it on

lusion; that he had good grounds for an opinion which, as he said, he could no longer, prove-which was, indeed, now incapable of any proof. No one had seen th

he dormer windows, where the deed must have been done, if done at all, was c

you done anything in consequence of your

e, the more likely was the murderer to show his hand. Supposing he had a secret motive-and he must have had-he will act on that motive sooner or later. The quieter everything is kept, the more he feels

was from the North, and h

e is his daughter, left under your ca

perplexities, which were now so terribly incre

wful," said Maitland. "His daughter has disappeared! That was what I was coming to: that was the rest of my sto

Barton put his hand encouragingly on hi

it, old boy?" asked

nd no longer felt alone and friendless, as he had done after his consultation of Bielby. Thus encouraged, he told, as clearly and fully

ard nothing sinc

rpose. What do you

gentleman in the fur travelling-coat who sent the telegram in your name and took away Margaret from Miss Marlett's, are in the same employment, or, b

till the woman at the Hit or Miss mentioned him, the night the body was found. And I never

answering to the description is 'wanted' or is on their books, at Scotland Yard. Why are we not in Paris, where a man, whatever his social

th. He was almost certainly tattooed with some marks or other. Indeed, I remember Mrs. Gullick-that's the landlady of

er a fashion; but, after all, many of them that go down to the sea in ships are tattooed, even when they are decent fellows; and

Maitland, who for a moment had been inclined to