_ CHAPTER XIII
Mr. Pinkerton again interviews Le Compte.-- And very much desires to wring his Neck.-- A Bargain and Sale.-- Le Compte's Story.-- "Little by Little, Patience by Patience."-- A Toronto Merchant in Mrs. Winslow's Toils.-- Detective Bristol, "the retired Banker," in Clover.-- Tabitha, Amanda, and Hannah individually and collectively woo him.-- Ancient Maidens full of Soul.-- A Signal.
No jury in the land would render a verdict against a man on the unsupported evidence of a woman whose character was so vile as we had already found Mrs. Winslow's to be; and I would have paid no further attention to the little Frenchman, had I not suspected from his expensive style of living, and from Mrs. Winslow's injunctions to him regarding not swindling her in so small a matter as a bottle of wine, that his necessities and cupidity might cause him to make some tangible disclosure regarding her, that would give us a clue to other information against her further than that which Bangs would probably secure in the West, as I never use detective evidence when it can be avoided, and knew that a perfect mountain of criminal transactions could be eventually heaped up against her which could be secured from reliable parties, who could have no other possible interest in her downfall than a desire to promote the personal good of society.
Le Compte did not desire to see me again, and had made strenuous efforts to prevent it and secure a surreptitious interview with Lyon instead. Failing in this, at the last moment, I had received a very terse note from him to the effect that he did not desire to transmit any statement by mail, but would take it as an honor, etc., if I would call at his place at ten o'clock, Monday morning, which I did, finding the little fellow in a gorgeous dressing-gown, freshly shaved, and in a neat and orderly state generally.
"Well, my young friend," said I, "I suppose you have decided to give me some information this morning."
"Do I get good pay?" he asked in response.
"You will get good pay if you have a good article for sale," I replied.
"Humph!" he responded, with a soft shrug of his delicate shoulders.
"Are you ready to make such a sale?" I asked.
"But where comes my money?" inquired Le Compte, suspiciously.
"It is right here," I answered, slapping my pocket in a hearty way.
"But suppose it shall stay there, then where is Le Compte?" he persisted with a doleful look which was irresistibly funny.
"It
will stay there," I replied, "in case you attempt to play any of your tricks, my little fellow."
"How shall I then know I am to be paid?"
"You will have to take my word for it."
"But I have not pleasure in your acquaintance; how can I be sure?" he continued anxiously.
"Le Compte, swindler as you are, you
know that I am an honest man. This quibbling is utterly foolish and simple. I am acting entirely for Mr. Lyon in this matter, and should you write to him or call upon him a hundred times, you would get nothing from him but a bluff. Here are your two notes," I continued, producing them, "one written Saturday, the other yesterday. The only response you got to them was, silence--and this interview. I thought we understood each other already."
I saw that he was still undecided about saying whatever he might have to say, and tenacious of sustaining his professional reputation as a clairvoyant. I might have easily frightened him into submission by the slightest reference to the occurrences of the previous day, but knew that this would have the effect of putting Mrs. Winslow on her guard, as she was already becoming suspicious and anxious, and preferred getting at his communication in the ordinary way. After he had sat musing for a time he suddenly asked:
"How great will be my pay?"
"What do you think the information is worth?" I said.
He looked at me as if fixing a price in his mind that I would stand, and replied:
"Certain, a thousand dollars."
"That is a good deal of money, Le Compte," I said pleasantly. "I hardly think you can divulge a thousand dollars' worth. But if you can give me reliable information of a satisfactory character, I think I could pay you three hundred dollars.
"Now?" he inquired, suddenly.
"Oh, no, oh, no," I replied as quickly; "no, sir,
not until we find the information you give is reliable."
This dampened the little fellow wonderfully, but he finally said: "Well, the evidence is certain, but I must offer it to you by clairvoyance," and he immediately arose and began darkening the room as on the previous interview, which act I interrupted by stepping to the window he had just darkened, and jerking the curtain as high as it would roll, opening the window, and flinging the blinds open with a slam.
"You little villain!" I shouted, advancing upon him threateningly, "I will wring your neck if you don't stop this contemptible nonsense!" while he slunk into the corner, like the mean coward that he was. I could scarcely keep my hands off the little puppy; but recollecting that I was there for quite another purpose, I said:
"Le Compte, this is the last time I shall come here, and it is the last time you will have an opportunity of making a dollar out of any information you may possess. Now, sir," I said, savagely, starting towards the door, "you will give it to me, trusting entirely to my honor to pay you for it, or you will never get a cent for it on earth."
The little fellow turned towards me imploringly, with "Please don't go. My dear sir, you are so greatly abrupt. We have no men like you in La Belle France."
"Heaven knows, I hope but few
like you," I responded. "Now, which is it, yes, or no? I will give you just thirty seconds in which to answer," and I timed him, thoroughly resolved to do as I had said.
Before the expiration of the time mentioned, Le Compte sat down, and with a despairing shrug of the shoulders, said "Yes."
I immediately returned, sat down in front of him, and said, "Well, Le Compte, now go ahead with your story like a man."
"What must it be like?" he asked innocently.
"What must it be like?" I repeated, aghast. "Why, you don't intend to manufacture a story for me against this woman, do you?"
"Oh, no, no, never. But I must know first how bad it must be, when it is worth three hundred dollars, which you call such great money?"
"Well," said I, all out of patience, "if you know of any occasion when this woman has been with any man as his wife, or his mistress, and can give names, dates, and places, and under what circumstances, and this information on examination proves so reliable that we can get other witnesses besides yourself--persons of credibility and reputation--to testify to it, I will pay you three hundred dollars. Isn't that plain enough?"
"Will you put it to paper?"
"No, sir, you have my word for it, that's all."
Le Compte tapped the floor with his delicate foot a moment, and I saw the impostor was in real misery. He had a sort of affection for the woman, which she had more than reciprocated. He could lean on the strong, daring nature she possessed, and go to her with all his troubles and disappointments and get help. She had promised him that, as soon as she had mulcted Lyon of the hundred thousand dollars, he should share it with her in his own beautiful Paris. All his self-interest laid in and with the woman; but need for money was pressing, and there were a million other women as impressible to his charms as she had been. Here was an opportunity to make a few hundred dollars by betraying her; but in doing so he still might not get the money, and she might at once discover from what source the information had come, and he knew enough about Mrs. Winslow to be sure that she dared any mode of revenge that best suited her fancy, and he had a wholesome fear of her. I could see that all these things were flitting through his mind, as plainly as the reader can see them upon this printed page, and to some extent pitied his weakness and indecision.
"Or," said I encouragingly, "as you undoubtedly know Mrs. Winslow intimately, and are very much in her company, if you know of any occasion when she had, while here in Rochester or in the vicinity, say Batavia, Syracuse, or Port Charlotte, for instance, gone with some one of her many favorites, and under an assumed name--Brown, Jones, or anything of the kind--to a hotel where they had been assigned a room, and had occupied it together for several hours, and you could put us on track of persons of reliability who would be willing to come into court and swear to such facts--I presume there are many persons who could and would with whom you are acquainted--I would pay you the amount named at once."
This was cutting pretty close to a tender subject, and before I had half finished my remarks he started, and looked me in the face in a suspicious, apprehensive manner, eyeing me closely until I had finished. But my manner and looks betraying no knowledge on my part of any such facts hinted at, he relapsed into a puzzled, nonplussed look that was really ridiculous.
"No, no," he said slowly and cautiously. "I have no such valuable evidence. That would be much more worth than a thousand dollars--much more worth. But I can do what you first say, and rest me on the honor of your word."
"Go on, then," said I.
"Well, we shall go back almost a year. I met first Mrs. Winslow at Port Charlotte, when she was from Canada returning."
"Did she formerly live in Canada?" I asked.
"No, not for a great time; but has had much travel and friends there. I first see her at Charlotte. I go there to take a boat. She comes from the boat there. Lyon meets her, and I think her his wife, he is so much happy. I like her so much that I do not take the boat. I follow her back to the city here, and find her beautiful rooms, when I discover she is not Lyon's wife, but his mistress; but I still have for her admiration, and one day she comes to me for her future in clairvoyance."
"And then she became your mistress?" I inquired, smiling at his earnestness.
"No, no, no--never!" he replied quickly, growing red as a rose; "I became her
friend!"
Le Compte did not know how near he came to expressing the truth while endeavoring to avoid it, but continued:
"I became her friend, and we came to each other for advice. She has great faith--great faith," repeated Le Compte, with much emphasis on the expression, which seemed to please him, "in my clairvoyance powers. I give her much comfort. She gives me great confidence of her affairs, and shows me how rich Lyon makes her. I see her often--very often, at the Hall and here in my apartments. She gives me much confidence of her affairs still, and I am informed when she makes Canada some visits. She goes much to Canada, and I ask her why? She does not tell me, but laughs in my face, and shows me much money, which she ever brings back. I shake my finger at her so (illustrating), and say to her: 'You cannot hide from Le Compte,' which she answers: 'No, I will not. I go for money. See!'--when she would shake many bills in my face--'I make him come down, too!'"
"Did she give you the man's name?"
"I
got it," continued Le Compte proudly, "with much wine--
and clairvoyance!"
"Oh, confound your eternal clairvoyance!" said I. "I want the facts."
"But I got facts
with clairvoyance," persisted the imperturbable Le Compte. "Little by little, patience by patience, at the end I got confession from her----"
"Which was?"----
"Which was," continued Le Compte, taking his time, "that Mrs. Winslow had got great power over a Toronto merchant with much wealth and great family, by name Devereaux."
"How long had she known him?"
"I know not that--five, four, three years, I will think."
"Did you ever see this Devereaux?"
"Oh, no, no--never; but it is all certain that I speak. Here," continued Le Compte, stepping nimbly to a secretary and producing a photograph, which he handed to me, "here you will find the face of Devereaux. Many, many times I have seen the color of his money."
"And does Mrs. Winslow visit Canada for the purpose of meeting this man still?" I asked.
"Certain," he answered promptly; then, after a little pause, as if doubtful of the propriety of what he was about to say, but finally resolving to earn his money, if possible, "and she shall go there once more in the next week."
I began to think that the little Frenchman had really a good article for sale, and made full memoranda of all the main points. I asked him some further questions, the answers to which showed conclusively that Mrs. Winslow had made a full confidant of him concerning the Canadian affair, at least; that she had secured a vast amount of money from Devereaux at the same time that Lyon was breaking her heart; and that, whether Devereaux was fated to go through the same final experience as Lyon, or not, that he had undergone and was undergoing the same preliminary experience.
At the close of the interview I informed Le Compte that his information was quite satisfactory, and that it only remained for me to prove its correctness in order to permit the payment of the money, which, however, should necessarily be on the additional condition that he at once secured for us information as to the date on which the madam was to make her profitable little pleasure-trip to Toronto.
This he agreed to do, and I left him; not, however, until he had anxiously requested to know more about me, and where and when he was to receive his money. I told him that I was a travelling man; that I had no permanent residence, was here and there all over the country; but that the moment we ascertained the truth of his statements, which would be very soon, he should be compensated.
I communicated to Lyon the facts elicited during this interview, which completely overwhelmed him with the perfidy of human nature in general, and woman in particular; but gave him considerable encouragement concerning the progress of our work; and after directing Bristol, through the post, to continue playing the
rôle of the banker, and to keep himself in preparation for telegraphic instructions, returned to New York.
All this time Bristol was in clover. The three old maids, Tabitha, Amanda, and Hannah, had looked him over and saw that he was a good man to tie to. Here was a man, they agreed, who had come in among them a perfect stranger, and yet so possessed was he of a frank, winsome way, and such a reliable, honorable demeanor had he exhibited towards them, three lone and defenceless women as they were, that they had instinctively felt that they could trust him; nay, even more, they were sure that they could lean upon him, as it were; take him into their confidence; share their joys with him, rely on him to sympathize with them in all their sorrows--in fact, make of him a sort of an affectionate Handy Andy--a good-natured and attractive attaché to their affections, and a profitable sign-post to their business.
Neither had any man ever before received such signs and tokens of a deep-seated and ineradicable affection.
Every morning he was awakened from his virtuous slumbers by the delicious music of a bird training organ, which was wound in turn by the maidens and set inside his door, where, "in linked sweetness long drawn out," it galloped over the harmonies with: "Then you'll remember me," "Don't be angry with me, Darling," "Who will care for Mother Now?" "Bonnie Charlie's Noo Awa'," "Annie Laurie," and like tender airs, until the poor man cursed the Three Graces of Washington Hall restaurant, and the detective service, threadbare.
After this delicious reminder of languishing love he was served with a breakfast fit for a king, at which Tabitha, Amanda, and Hannah in turn presided, and which was always graced by a large bouquet of flowers whose language and fragrance only breathed of love.
On these occasions the conversation never failed to turn upon Bristol's merits, the old maids' loneliness, and the superiority of women without physical beauties, but full of soul, over those more fortunate in flesh but wanting in spirituality. This was an advertisement for their own establishment, and a drive at Mrs. Winslow; and Bristol always acknowledged the force of the argument.
Whenever Mrs. Winslow took a meal at the restaurant, which had now become a frequent occurrence, just so certain was Bristol's corresponding meal served in the little snuggery, where, however busy they might be, one of the ancient ladies kept him good company and quickened his digestion with sparkling humor and witty jest, such only as can course through the flowery avenues of an aged spinster's mind, made fresh and blooming by the wild fancy of the second childhood of love's young dream; and at night, when the busy day was over and the vulgar public shut out by the well-bolted front door, the little snuggery always held the same wise old company, where Bristol, ripe in age and experience, passed an hour with the ladies over tea and sweetmeats, or wine and waffles, surrounded by the thrilled and blushing trio, who, preparatory to retiring, discovered to him as many of their combined charms as modesty would allow, and in their tender hearts built plans for the future when they would bodily possess Bristol--at least one of them, if the laws of society did prevent his making a sort of blessed trinity of himself for their benefit.
This course of procedure angered Mrs. Winslow.
Her heart also yearned for the retired banker, and when she saw how securely he was being kept from her grasp by the wily old maids, she immediately began preparing a plan the execution of which would foil them, and eventually give her the coveted game all to herself. To this end she walked to and fro past the restaurant, and finally attracted the attention of Bristol while the old ladies were busily engaged elsewhere, and motioned to him in so imperative a way and with such earnestness, that he slipped out of the place, and at a careful distance followed her in the direction of the Falls Field Garden, where lovers often met and where there was no danger of interruption. _