The Jewel of Seven Stars by Bram Stoker (ebook and pdf reader .txt) đ
- Author: Bram Stoker
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follow my own conclusions. I know well that just as unlikely persons
have been proved guilty, when a whole courtâall except the prosecution
who knew the facts, and the judge who had taught his mind to waitâwould
have sworn to innocence. I wouldnât, for all the world, wrong such a
young lady; more especial when she has such a cruel weight to bear. And
you will be sure that I wonât say a word thatâll prompt anyone else to
make such a charge. Thatâs why I speak to you in confidence, man to
man. You are skilled in proofs; that is your profession. Mine only
gets so far as suspicions, and what we call our own proofsâwhich are
nothing but ex parte evidence after all. You know Miss Trelawny better
than I do; and though I watch round the sick-room, and go where I like
about the house and in and out of it, I havenât the same opportunities
as you have of knowing the lady and what her life is, or her means are;
or of anything else which might give me a clue to her actions. If I
were to try to find out from her, it would at once arouse her
suspicions. Then, if she were guilty, all possibility of ultimate proof
would go; for she would easily find a way to baffle discovery. But if
she be innocent, as I hope she is, it would be doing a cruel wrong to
accuse her. I have thought the matter over according to my lights
before I spoke to you; and if I have taken a liberty, sir, I am truly
sorry.â
âNo liberty in the world, Daw,â I said warmly, for the manâs courage and
honesty and consideration compelled respect. âI am glad you have spoken
to me so frankly. We both want to find out the truth; and there is so
much about this case that is strangeâso strange as to go beyond all
experiencesâthat to aim at truth is our only chance of making anything
clear in the long-runâno matter what our views are, or what object we
wish to achieve ultimately!â The Sergeant looked pleased as he went on:
âI thought, therefore, that if you had it once in your mind that
somebody else held to such a possibility, you would by degrees get
proof; or at any rate such ideas as would convince yourself, either for
or against it. Then we would come to some conclusion; or at any rate we
should so exhaust all other possibilities that the most likely one would
remain as the nearest thing to proof, or strong suspicion, that we could
get. After that we should have toââ
Just at this moment the door opened and Miss Trelawny entered the room.
The moment she saw us she drew back quickly, saying:
âOh, I beg pardon! I did not know you were here, and engaged.â By the
time I had stood up, she was about to go back.
âDo come in,â I said; âSergeant Daw and I were only talking matters
over.â
Whilst she was hesitating, Mrs. Grant appeared, saying as she entered
the room: âDoctor Winchester is come, miss, and is asking for you.â
I obeyed Miss Trelawnyâs look; together we left the room.
When the Doctor had made his examination, he told us that there was
seemingly no change. He added that nevertheless he would like to stay
in the house that night is he might. Miss Trelawny looked glad, and
sent word to Mrs. Grant to get a room ready for him. Later in the day,
when he and I happened to be alone together, he said suddenly:
âI have arranged to stay here tonight because I want to have a talk
with you. And as I wish it to be quite private, I thought the least
suspicious way would be to have a cigar together late in the evening
when Miss Trelawny is watching her father.â We still kept to our
arrangement that either the sick manâs daughter or I should be on watch
all night. We were to share the duty at the early hours of the morning.
I was anxious about this, for I knew from our conversation that the
Detective would watch in secret himself, and would be particularly alert
about that time.
The day passed uneventfully. Miss Trelawny slept in the afternoon; and
after dinner went to relieve the Nurse. Mrs. Grant remained with her,
Sergeant Daw being on duty in the corridor. Doctor Winchester and I
took our coffee in the library. When we had lit our cigars he said
quietly:
âNow that we are alone I want to have a confidential talk. We are
âtiled,â of course; for the present at all events?â
âQuite so!â I said, my heart sinking as I thought of my conversation
with Sergeant Daw in the morning, and of the disturbing and harrowing
fears which it had left in my mind. He went on:
âThis case is enough to try the sanity of all of us concerned in it.
The more I think of it, the madder I seem to get; and the two lines,
each continually strengthened, seem to pull harder in opposite
directions.â
âWhat two lines?â He looked at me keenly for a moment before replying.
Doctor Winchesterâs look at such moments was apt to be disconcerting.
It would have been so to me had I had a personal part, other than my
interest in Miss Trelawny, in the matter. As it was, however, I stood
it unruffled. I was now an attorney in the case; an amicus curiae in
one sense, in another retained for the defence. The mere thought that
in this clever manâs mind were two lines, equally strong and opposite,
was in itself so consoling as to neutralise my anxiety as to a new
attack. As he began to speak, the Doctorâs face wore an inscrutable
smile; this, however, gave place to a stern gravity as he proceeded:
âTwo lines: Fact andâFancy! In the first there is this whole thing;
attacks, attempts at robbery and murder; stupefyings; organised
catalepsy which points to either criminal hypnotism and thought
suggestion, or some simple form of poisoning unclassified yet in our
toxicology. In the other there is some influence at work which is not
classified in any book that I knowâoutside the pages of romance. I
never felt in my life so strongly the truth of Hamletâs words:
âThere are more things in Heaven and earth⊠Than are dreamt of in
your philosophy.â
âLet us take the âFactâ side first. Here we have a man in his home;
amidst his own household; plenty of servants of different classes in the
house, which forbids the possibility of an organised attempt made from
the servantsâ hall. He is wealthy, learned, clever. From his
physiognomy there is no doubting that he is a man of iron will and
determined purpose. His daughterâhis only child, I take it, a young
girl bright and cleverâis sleeping in the very next room to his. There
is seemingly no possible reason for expecting any attack or disturbance
of any kind; and no reasonable opportunity for any outsider to effect
it. And yet we have an attack made; a brutal and remorseless attack,
made in the middle of the night. Discovery is made quickly; made with
that rapidity which in criminal cases generally is found to be not
accidental, but of premeditated intent. The attacker, or attackers, are
manifestly disturbed before the completion of their work, whatever their
ultimate intent may have been. And yet there is no possible sign of
their escape; no clue, no disturbance of anything; no open door or
window; no sound. Nothing whatever to show who had done the deed, or
even that a deed has been done; except the victim, and his surroundings
incidental to the deed!
âThe next night a similar attempt is made, though the house is full of
wakeful people; and though there are on watch in the room and around it
a detective officer, a trained nurse, an earnest friend, and the manâs
own daughter. The nurse is thrown into a catalepsy, and the watching
friendâthough protected by a respiratorâinto a deep sleep. Even the
detective is so far overcome with some phase of stupor that he fires off
his pistol in the sick-room, and canât even tell what he thought he was
firing at. That respirator of yours is the only thing that seems to
have a bearing on the âfactâ side of the affair. That you did not lose
your head as the others didâthe effect in such case being in proportion
to the amount of time each remained in the roomâpoints to the
probability that the stupefying medium was not hypnotic, whatever else
it may have been. But again, there is a fact which is contradictory.
Miss Trelawny, who was in the room more than any of youâfor she was in
and out all the time and did her share of permanent watching alsoâdid
not seem to be affected at all. This would show that the influence,
whatever it is, does not affect generallyâunless, of course, it was that
she was in some way inured to it. If it should turn out that it be some
strange exhalation from some of those Egyptian curios, that might
account for it; only, we are then face to face with the fact that Mr.
Trelawny, who was most of all in the roomâwho, in fact, lived more than
half his life in itâwas affected worst of all. What kind of influence
could it be which would account for all these different and
contradictory effects? No! the more I think of this form of the
dilemma, the more I am bewildered! Why, even if it were that the
attack, the physical attack, on Mr. Trelawny had been made by some one
residing in the house and not within the sphere of suspicion, the
oddness of the stupefyings would still remain a mystery. It is not easy
to put anyone into a catalepsy. Indeed, so far as is known yet in
science, there is no way to achieve such an object at will. The crux of
the whole matter is Miss Trelawny, who seems to be subject to none of
the influences, or possibly of the variants of the same influence at
work. Through all she goes unscathed, except for that one slight
semi-faint. It is most strange!â
I listened with a sinking heart; for, though his manner was not
illuminative of distrust, his argument was disturbing. Although it was
not so direct as the suspicion of the Detective, it seemed to single out
Miss Trelawny as different from all others concerned; and in a mystery
to be alone is to be suspected, ultimately if not immediately. I
thought it better not to say anything. In such a case silence is indeed
golden; and if I said nothing now I might have less to defend, or
explain, or take back later. I was, therefore, secretly glad that his
form of putting his argument did not require any answer from meâfor the
present, at all events. Doctor Winchester did not seem to expect any
answerâa fact which, when I recognised it, gave my pleasure, I hardly
knew why. He paused for a while, sitting with his chin in his hand, his
eyes staring at vacancy, whilst his brows were fixed. His cigar was
held limp between his fingers; he had apparently forgotten it. In an
even voice, as though commencing exactly where he had left off, he
resumed his argument:
âThe other horn of the dilemma is a different affair altogether; and if
we once enter on it we must leave everything in the shape of science and
experience behind us. I confess that it has its
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