During the next few days Elliott called frequently and apologetically. Although he had suffered considerably at the hands of Hallen, he appreciated how much attention he had given me on the plains of Mona where was my Waterloo, and he kept me informed of the doings of our party in the search for the murderer. But it was several days before he brought me the information that both O'Brien and Maloney had been found—O'Brien in a farm-house, nursing his leg; Maloney walking about town, cool and collected, apparently with nothing to conceal. I was told that he was not yet under arrest, but had been coaxed back to the Mansion to give evidence against O'Brien, as he was led to believe.
"But why doesn't he suspect? He must realize that suspicion is against him."
"Well, Dr. Moore told me recently that the criminal, if insane as we surmise, may be oblivious during his lucid intervals of what he has been through during his periods of aberration."
"I see," I answered, remembering that such had been often recorded; "and as his attacks of mania may be unwitnessed, he escapes detection because he carries but little ordinary evidence of these during the interval of quiescence."
Before my companion could frame an answer there was a sudden commotion below—a hurrying of feet, and the quiet, commanding voice of Oakes heard now and then above all. We knew the time had at last arrived for the closing scene; we both felt that the hour had come when the final settlement was to take place.
Next moment Oakes appeared. I had not seen him for many hours. He was changed, haggard, worn. His handsome face showed worry and loss of sleep, but his carriage and voice were as usual—vigorous, independent.
Grasping my hand firmly and turning a pleased glance of recognition at Elliott, he said, "Come, Stone, you're strong enough"; and next moment he had thrown a coat over my shoulders and was helping me down the stairs to the dining-room. He seemed to me to have grown more serious, more quiet than was his wont; but his actions were, as ever, strong, quick, easy of execution, and I knew that it was the steadying of the mind and body for the final strain. Oakes's reputation was at stake, and he was fully cognizant that an error of judgment, a flaw in his reasonings, a mishap in the execution of his well-formulated plans, might readily result disastrously, not only to his reputation but to the cause of justice.
Then I stepped across the threshold of the dining-room, and beheld a scene that will always linger in my mind. At the head of the table sat Hallen, and to his right was Dr. Moore, whose dress contrasted strangely with the Chief's blue uniform and brass buttons. Across the table from Moore was Dowd, and here and there about the room were some of Oakes's men, and some of Hallen's as well, lounging, looking out of the windows carelessly, but comprehensively.
As we entered, a deep guttural of welcome greeted me; and Oakes seated me by Moore's side, and Elliott went over and sat with Dowd. Then the detective took the chair at the foot of the table, near which was an empty one.
It was evident at a glance that Oakes was to be the chief actor, while to Hallen had been given the chief position.