The Filigree Ball | Page 9

robbed? There were no signs of violence visible nor even such
disturbances as usually follow despoliation by a criminal's hand. The
boa of delicate black net which encircled her neck rose fresh and intact
to her chin; nor did the heavy folds of her rich broadcloth gown betray
that any disturbance had taken place in her figure after its fall. If a
jewel had flashed at her throat, or earrings adorned her ears, they had
been removed by a careful, if not a loving, hand. But I was rather
inclined to think that she had entered upon the scene of her death
without ornaments, - such severe simplicity marked her whole attire.
Her hat, which was as plain and also as elegant as the rest of her
clothing, lay near her on the floor. It had been taken off and thrown
down, manifestly by an impatient hand. That this hand was her own
was evident from a small but very significant fact. The pin which had
held it to her hair had been thrust again into the hat. No hand but hers

would have taken this precaution. A man would have flung it aside just
as he would have flung the hat.
Question:
Did this argue a natural expectation on her part of resuming her hat? Or
was the action the result of an unconscious habit?
Having thus noted all that was possible concerning her without
infringing on the rights of the coroner, I next proceeded to cast about
for clues to the identity of the person whom I considered responsible
for the extinguished candle. But here a great disappointment awaited
me. I could find nothing expressive of a second person's presence save
a pile of cigar ashes scattered near the legs of a common kitchen chair
which stood face to face with the book shelves in that part of the room
where the candelabrum rested on a small table. But these ashes looked
old, nor could I detect any evidence of tobacco smoke in the general
mustiness pervading the place. Was the man who died here a fortnight
since accountable for these ashes? If so, his unfinished cigar must be
within sight. Should I search for it? No, for this would take me to the
hearth and that was quite too deadly a place to be heedlessly
approached.
Besides, I was not yet finished with the spot where I then stood. If I
could gather nothing satisfactory from the ashes, perhaps I could from
the chair or the shelves before which it had been placed. Some one with
an interest in books had sat there; some one who expected to spend
sufficient time over these old tomes to feel the need of a chair. Had this
interest been a general one or had it centered in a particular volume? I
ran my eye over the shelves within reach, possibly with an idea of
settling this question, and though my knowledge of books is limited I
could see that these were what one might call rarities. Some of them
contained specimens of black letter, all moldy and smothered in dust; in
others I saw dates of publication which placed them among volumes
dear to a collector's heart. But none of them, so far as I could see, gave
any evidence of having been lately handled; and anxious to waste no
time on puerile details, I hastily quitted my chair, and was proceeding
to turn my attention elsewhere, when I noticed on an upper shelf, a

book projecting slightly beyond the others. Instantly my foot was on
the chair and the book in my hand. Did I find it of interest? Yes, but not
on account of its contents, for they were pure Greek to me; but because
it lacked the dust on its upper edge which had marked every other
volume I had handled. This, then, was what had attracted the unknown
to these shelves, this - let me see if I can remember its title -
Disquisition upon Old Coastlines. Pshaw! I was wasting my time. What
had such a dry compendium as this to do with the body lying in its
blood a few steps behind me, or with the hand which had put out the
candle upon this dreadful deed? Nothing. I replaced the book, but not
so hastily as to push it one inch beyond the position in which I found it.
For, if it had a tale to tell, then was it my business to leave that tale to
be read by those who understood books better than I did.
My next move was toward the little table holding the candelabrum with
the glittering pendants. This table was one of a nest standing against a
near-by wall. Investigation proved that it had been lifted from the
others