We noticed all these points as we drove to the Mansion next morning. We found the care-takers awaiting us, and more than glad to again see Mr. Clark, as they knew Oakes.
The events of the day before had crowded fast upon us, and had left us well known in the town. The name of Clark was on every tongue. Oakes remarked that morning, before we started for the Mansion, that he hoped the people would not identify him. "If they do, we cannot help it, however," he said; "we cannot control events like these." Then he suddenly asked me: "How about that negro? He was handsome, you say?"
"Yes, rather black, with remarkably clear-cut features."
"Indeed! Then he may be traced through his good looks."
"Do you think he is the murderer?"
"That's difficult," said Oakes; "but I should think not. Had the deed been done by a negro boy, the victim would have remembered it; they are uncommon here. He would have said, 'A negro, good-looking,' or something of that sort. His color would have impressed the dying man."
"Well, why was the negro so scared?" I asked.
"Probably recognized the description as that of someone he knew."
"Perhaps not," said Moore. "He may have been just emotional; the race is very superstitious."
"If I make no mistake," continued Oakes, "Mona is going to see queer doings. The people's minds are at a great tension. In any event, this affair is not ours. That is—not as we see it now."