"Thanks," Kent flung down his hat and spread open the paper."Who have been here to-day?""Colonel McIntyre, sir; he left a card for you." Sylvester hurried into Kent's office, to return a moment later with a visiting card.
"He left this, sir, for you with most particular directions that it be handed to you at once on your arrival."Kent read the curt message on the card without comment and tore the paste-board into tiny bits.
"Any one else been in this morning?" he asked.
"Yes, sir." Sylvester consulted a written memorandum."Mr.Black called, also Colonel Thorne, Senator Harris, and Mrs.Brewster.""Mrs.Brewster!" The newspaper slipped from Kent's fingers in his astonishment."What did she want here?""To see you, sir, so she said, but she first asked for Mr.
Rochester," explained Sylvester, stooping over to pick up the inside sheet of the Times which had separated from the others."Itold her that Mr.Rochester was unavoidably detained in Cleveland;then she said she would consult you and I let her wait in your office for the good part of an hour."Kent thought a moment then walked toward his door; on its threshold he paused, struck by a sudden idea.
"Did Colonel McIntyre come with Mrs.Brewster?" he asked.
"No, Mr.Kent; he came in while she was here.""And they went off together," volunteered Mrs.Sylvester, who had been a silent listener to their conversation.Kent started; he had forgotten the woman."Excuse me, Mr.Kent," she continued, and stepped toward him."I presume, likely, that you are very interested in this charge of murder against your partner, Mr.Rochester.""I am," affirmed Kent, as Mrs.Sylvester paused.
"I am too, sir," she confided to him."Cause you see I was in the court room when Mr.Turnbull died and I'm naturally interested.""Naturally," agreed Kent with a commiserating glance at his clerk;the latter's wife threatened to be loquacious, and he judged from her looks that it was a habit which had grown with the years.As a general rule he abhorred talkative women, but - "And what took you to the police court on Tuesday morning?""Why, me and Mr.Sylvester have our little differences like other married couples," she explained."And sometimes we ask the Court to settle them." She caught Kent's look of impatience and hurried her speech."The burglar case came on just after ours was remanded, and seeing the McIntyre twins, whom I've often read about, I just thought I'd stay.Let me have that paper a minute.""Certainly," Kent gave her the newspaper and she ran her finger down the columns devoted to the Turnbull case with a slowness that set his already excited nerves on edge.
"Here's what I'm looking for," she exclaimed triumphantly, a minute later, and pointed to the paragraph:
"Mrs.Margaret Perry Brewster, the fascinating widow, added nothing material to the case in her testimony, and she was quickly excused, after stating that she was told about the tragedy by the McIntyre twins upon their return from the Police Court.""Well what of it?" asked Kent.
"Only this, Mr.Kent;" Mrs.Sylvester enjoyed nothing so much as talking to a good looking man, especially in the presence of her husband, and she could not refrain from a triumphant look at him as she went on with her remarks."There was a female sitting on the bench next to me in Court; in fact, she and I were the only women on that side, and I kinder noticed her on that account, and then I saw she was all done up in veils - I couldn't see her face.
"I caught her peering this way and that during the burglar's hearing; I don't reckon she could see well through all the veils.
Now, don't get impatient, Mr.Kent; I'm getting to my point - that woman sitting next to me in the police court was the widow Brewster.""What!" Kent laughed unbelievingly."Oh, come, you are mistaken.""I am not, sir." Mrs.Sylvester spoke with conviction."Now, why does Mrs.Brewster declare at the coroner's inquest that she only heard of the Turnbull tragedy from the McIntyre twins on their return home?""You must be mistaken," argued Kent.
"Why, you admit yourself that the woman was so swathed in veils that you could not see her face.""No, but I heard her laugh in court," Mrs.Sylvester spoke in deep earnestness and Kent placed faith in her statement in spite of his outward skepticism."And I heard her laugh in this corridor this morning and I placed her as the same woman.I asked Mr.Sylvester who she was, and he told me.I'd been reading this account of the Turnbull inquest, and I recollected seeing Mrs.Brewster's name, and my husband and I were just reading the account over when you came in."Kent gazed in perplexity at Mrs.Sylvester."Why did Mrs.Brewster laugh in the police court?" he asked.
"When Dr.Stone exclaimed to the deputy marshal - 'Your prisoner appears ill!'" declared Mrs.Sylvester; she enjoyed the dramatic, and that Kent was hanging on her words she was fully aware, in spite of his expressionless face."Dr.Stone lifted the burglar in his arms and then Mrs.Brewster laughed as she laughed in the corridor to-day - a soft gurgling laugh."
