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The Classic Mystery Collection - Arthur Conan Doyle [5979]

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replacing the wrappings of the bundle. "Well, I smoked one of Morgan's cigars once--it was good, mighty good; but it wasn't in the same class with these. Light up."

I did. Never before had I drawn between my lips a breath so satisfying--so rich, so smooth, so full of flavour. I exhaled the fragrant smoke slowly.

"Godfrey," I said, "I never knew what tobacco was before. Are these cigars purchasable? I'm only a poor lawyer, but even one a month would be a thing to look forward to and dream about."

But Godfrey shook his head.

"I've felt like that," he said; "but they're not to be had for money. And now about Swain."

"Let's postpone it a little longer," I begged. "I don't want my mind distracted."

Godfrey laughed, but fell silent; and for the next half hour, no sound was heard.

"Now," I said, at last, "I'm ready to listen, so fire ahead whenever you want to."

"I haven't much to tell," he began; "nothing new about the case. But I stopped at the Tombs, before I started back, to make sure that Swain had everything he wanted. They'd given him an upper cell, and sent over to the Marathon and got him his things, and I arranged to have his meals sent in to him from Moquin's."

"I ought to have thought of that," I said, contritely. "I'm much obliged to you, Godfrey. Did you see him?"

"Only for a minute. He seemed fairly cheerful. He'd had them bring some of his law books to him, and remarked that he'd have plenty of time to study. I like the way he's taking it. He gave me a message for you."

"What was it?"

"That you are not to forget your promise."

I smoked on for a few moments in silence.

"I promised him I'd get Miss Vaughan away from that house," I said at last. "I had Mrs. Royce write her a note, inviting her to stay with her. I gave it to her this afternoon."

"What did she say?"

"She didn't say anything, but I could see the idea didn't impress her. And I had thought all along that she would jump at it."

Godfrey gave a little grunt, whether of surprise or satisfaction I could not tell.

"Why didn't you put her on the stand to-day, Lester?" he asked. "Afraid of upsetting her?"

"I wouldn't have stopped for that, if her evidence would have helped Swain. But it would only have put him deeper in the hole."

"In what way?"

"Well, in the first place, she says that as she and her father returned to the house, she heard footsteps behind them and thought it was Swain following them, because that would be a natural thing for him to do; and, in the second place, she saw that blood-stained handkerchief on the floor beside her father's chair when she came into the room and found him dead."

"So," said Godfrey slowly, "it couldn't have been dropped there by Swain when he stooped to pick her up."

"No; besides, we know perfectly well that it wasn't about his wrist when he came back over the wall. Goldberger knows it, too, and we'll be asked about it, next time."

"It might have been pushed up his sleeve--we weren't absolutely certain. But this new evidence settles it."

I assented miserably and Godfrey smoked on thoughtfully. But my cigar had lost some of its flavour.

"How did Miss Vaughan come to find the body?" he asked at last, and I told him the story as she had told it to me. He thought it over for some moments; then he leaned forward and laid his hand on my knee.

"Now, Lester," he said, "let's review this thing. It can't be as dark as it seems--there's light somewhere. Here is the case, bared of all inessentials: Swain crosses the wall about eleven o'clock, cutting his wrist as he does so; Miss Vaughan meets him about eleven-thirty, and after a time, finds that his wrist is bleeding and ties her handkerchief about it; they agree to have her father examined for lunacy, arrange a meeting for the next night, and are about to separate, when her father rushes in upon them, savagely berates Swain and takes his daughter away. That must have been about twelve o'clock.

"Swain, according to his story, sits there for ten or fifteen minutes, finally sees the cobra, or thinks he does, and makes a dash for safety, striking his head

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