The Complete Novels of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Arthur Conan DoyleЧитать онлайн книгу.
into the wings. Don’t worry if you hear a row.”
“But I do worry, dear. You’ll get hurt.”
Mailey laughed.
“I think your furniture may possibly get hurt. You have nothing else to fear, dear. And it’s all for the good of the Cause. That always settles it,” he explained, as his wife reluctantly left the room. “I really think she would go to the stake for the Cause. Her great, loving, womanly heart knows what it would mean for this grey earth if people could get away from the shadow of death, and realize the great happiness that is to come. By Jove! she is an inspiration to me . . . Well,” he went on with a laugh, “I must not get on to that subject. We have something very different to think of — something as hideous and vile as she is beautiful and good. It concerns Tom Linden’s brother.”
“I’ve heard of the fellow,” said Malone. “I used to box a bit and I am still a member of the N.S.C. Silas Linden was very nearly champion in the Welters.”
“That’s the man. He is out of a job and thought he would take up mediumship. Naturally I and other Spiritualists took him seriously, for we all love his brother, and these powers often run in families, so that his claim seemed reasonable. So we gave him a trial last night.”
“Well, what happened?”
“I suspected the fellow from the first. You understand that it is hardly possible for a medium to deceive an experienced Spiritualist. When there is deception it is at the expense of outsiders. I watched him carefully from the first, and I seated myself near the cabinet. Presently he emerged clad in white. I broke the contact by prearrangement with my wife who sat next me, and I felt him as he passed me. He was, of course, in white. I had a pair of scissors in my pocket and snipped off a bit from the edge.”
Mailey drew a triangular piece of linen from his pocket.
“There it is, you see. Very ordinary linen. I have no doubt the fellow was wearing his night-gown.”
“Why did you not have a show-up at once?” asked Lord Roxton.
“There were several ladies there, and I was the only really able-bodied man in the room.”
“Well, what do you propose?”
“I have appointed that he come here at three-thirty. He is due now. Unless he has noticed the small cut in his linen, I don’t think he has any suspicion why I want him.”
“What will you do?”
“Well, that depends on him. We have to stop him at any cost. That is the way our Cause gets bemired. Some villain who knows nothing about it comes into it for money and so the labours of the honest mediums get discounted. The public very naturally brackets them all together. With your help I can talk to this fellow on equal terms which I certainly could not do if I were alone. By Jove, here he is!”
There was a heavy step outside. The door was opened and Silas Linden, fake medium and ex-prize-fighter, walked in. His small, piggy grey eyes under their shaggy brows looked round with suspicion at the three men. Then he forced a smile and nodded to Mailey.
“Good day, Mr. Mailey. We had a good evening last night, had we not?”
“Sit down, Linden,” said Mailey, indicating a chair. “It’s about last night that I want to talk to you. You cheated us.”
Silas Linden’s heavy face flushed red with anger.
“What’s that?” he cried, sharply.
“You cheated us. You dressed up and pretended to be a spirit.”
“You are a damned liar!” cried Linden. “I did nothing of the sort.”
Mailey took the rag of linen from his pocket and spread it on his knee.
“What about that?” he asked.
“Well, what about it?”
“It was cut out of the white gown you wore. I cut it out myself as you stood in front of me. If you examine the gown you will find the place. It’s no use, Linden. The game is up. You can’t deny it.”
For a moment the man was completely taken aback. Then he burst into a stream of horrible profanity.
“What’s the game?” he cried, glaring round him. “Do you think I am easy and that you can play me for a sucker? Is it a frame-up, or what? You’ve chose the wrong man for a try-on of that sort.”
“There is no use being noisy or violent, Linden,” said Mailey quietly, “I could bring you up in the police court tomorrow. I don’t want any public scandal, for your brother’s sake. But you don’t leave this room until you have signed a paper that I have here on my desk.”
“Oh, I don’t, don’t I? Who will stop me?”
“We will.”
The three men were between him and the door.
“You will! Well, try that!” He stood before them with rage in his eyes and his great hands knotted. “Will you get out of the way?”
They did not answer, but they all three gave the fighting snarl which is perhaps the oldest of all human expressions. The next instant Linden was upon them, his fists flashing out with terrific force. Mailey, who had boxed in his youth, stopped one blow, but the next beat in his guard and he fell with a crash against the door. Lord Roxton was hurled to one side, but Malone, with a footballer’s instinct, ducked his head and caught the prize-fighter round the knees. If a man is too good for you on his feet, then put him on his back, for he cannot be scientific there. Over went Linden, crashing through an armchair before he reached the ground. He staggered to one knee and got in a short jolt to the chin, but Malone had him down again and Roxton’s bony hand had closed upon his throat. Silas Linden had a yellow streak in him and he was cowed.
“Let up!” he cried. “That’s enough!”
He lay now spreadeagled upon his back. Malone and Roxton were bending over him. Mailey had gathered himself together, pale and shaken after his fall.
“I’m all right!” he cried, in answer to a feminine voice at the other side of the door. “No, not yet, dear, but we shall soon be ready for you. Now, Linden, there’s no need for you to get up, for you can talk very nicely where you are. You’ve got to sign this paper before you leave the room.”
“What is the paper?” croaked Linden, as Roxton’s grip upon his throat relaxed.
“I’ll read it to you.”
Mailey took it from the desk and read aloud.
“I, Silas Linden, hereby admit that I have acted as a rogue and a scoundrel by simulating to be a spirit, and I swear that I will never again in my life pretend to be a medium. Should I break this oath, then this signed confession may be used for my conviction in the police court.”
“Will you sign that?”
“No, I am damned if I will!”
“Shall I give him another squeeze?” asked Lord Roxton. “Perhaps I could choke some sense into him — what!”
“Not at all,” said Mailey. “I think that his case now would do good in the police court, for it would show the public that we are determined to keep our house clean. I’ll give you one minute for consideration, Linden, and then I ring up the police.”
But it did not take a minute for the impostor to make up his mind.
“All right,” said he in a sulky voice, “I’ll sign.” He was allowed to rise with a warning that if he played any tricks he would not get off so lightly the second time. But there was no kick left in him and he scrawled a big, coarse “Silas Linden” at the bottom of the paper without a word. The three men signed as witnesses.
“Now, get out!” said Mailey, sharply. “Find some honest trade in future and leave sacred things alone!”
“Keep