Free The Clue by Carolyn Wells

her gown, while her face wore a decided “I told you so” expression, though she hadn’t told them anything of the sort.
    But as Fessenden watched her—the rows of seats were slightly horseshoed, and he could see her side face well—he noticed that she was really trembling all over, and that her placidity of face was without doubt assumed for effect. He could not see her eyes, but he was positive that only a strong fear or terror of something could explain her admirably suppressed agitation.
    The behavior of Cicely Dupuy was perhaps the most extraordinary. She flew into a fit of violent hysterics, and had to be taken from the room. Marie followed her, as it had always been part of the French maid’s duty to attend Miss Dupuy upon occasion as well as Miss Van Norman.
    â€œIn view of this state of affairs,” went on the coroner, when quiet had been restored after Cicely’s departure, “it becomes necessary to make an investigation of the case. We have absolutely no evidence, and no real reason to suspect foul play, yet since there is the merest possibility that the death was not a suicide, it becomes my duty to look further into the matter. I have been told that Miss Van Norman had expressed a sort of general fear that she might some day be impelled to turn this dagger upon herself. But that is a peculiar mental obsession that affects many people at sight of a sharp-pointed or cutting instrument, and is by no means a proof that she did do this thing. But quite aside from the temptation of the glittering steel, we have Miss Van Norman’s written confession that she at least contemplated taking her own life, and ascribing a reason therefor. In further consideration, then, of this written paper, of which you all know the contents, can any of you tell me of any fact or quote any words spoken by Miss Van Norman that would corroborate or amplify the statement of this despairing message?”
    As Mr. Benson spoke, he held in his hand the written paper that had been found on the library table. It was indeed unnecessary to read it aloud, for every one present knew its contents by heart.
    But nobody responded to the coroner’s question. Mr. Carleton looked mutely helpless, Tom Willard looked honestly perplexed, and yet many of those present believed that both these men knew the sad secret of Madeleine’s life, and understood definitely the written message.
    Again Mr. Benson earnestly requested that any one knowing the least fact, however trivial, regarding the matter, would mention it.
    Then Mrs. Markham spoke.
    â€œI can tell you nothing but my own surmise,” she said; “I know nothing for certain, but I have reason to believe that Madeleine Van Norman had a deep sorrow,—such a one as would impel her to write that statement, and to act in accordance with it.”
    â€œThat is what I wished to know,” said Coroner Benson; “it is not necessary for you to detail the nature of her sorrow, or even to hint at it further, but the assurance that the message is in accordance with Miss Van Norman’s mental attitude goes far toward convincing me that her death is the outcome of that written declaration.”
    â€œI know, too,” volunteered Kitty French, “that Madeleine meant every word she wrote there. She was miserable, and for the very reason that she herself stated!”
    Mr. Benson pinched his glasses more firmly on his nose, and turned his gaze slowly toward Miss French.
    Kitty had spoken impulsively, and perhaps too directly, but, though embarrassed at the sensation she had caused, she showed no desire to retract her statements.
    â€œI am told,” said the coroner, his voice ringing out clearly in the strange silence that had fallen on the room, “that the initial on this paper designates Mr. Schuyler Carleton. I must therefore ask Mr. Carleton if he can explain the reference to himself.”
    â€œI cannot,” said Schuyler Carleton,