“Some one from up the street to ask me questions,” said I, feeling my way down the stairs, but then I caught the sound of something that I thought was the mewing of a cat. If I had had any sense I would have called to the Judge before I slid the bolt and opened the door.
The thing I saw was a little bundle of white clothing. At first it looked so white it seemed to give off a light and I thought it was hanging in the air. Then I saw two hands were holding it, and that it was a child.
“I want to see the Judge,” said a thick, evil voice. “I’ve got a joke for him—the best joke he ever had played on him.”
“And who are you?” I asked.
“Oh, he’ll see me all well enough,” said the man, with a heave of his shoulders. “I’m John Chalmers!”
I could not speak. I stepped back and he came in. He must have heard the voices in the study. But I can hardly say what happened. I only know that I found myself standing behind him and that I saw him put the baby into a chair and heard him cough.
The two men—the Judge and Mr. Roddy—looked up, and I never saw two such faces.
“Stare!” said the terrible creature. “Well you may! Go ahead and stare, for all the good it will do you. I know you both. Both of you wanted me hung, didn’t you? You’re clever men—you two. But I’m cleverer than you. The joke is on you.”
“You came in?” asked the Judge in a whisper, as if he didn’t believe his eyes.
“Yes, and I’d have come in the front door if the people, with their butterplate eyes, weren’t watching me wherever I go. Oh, don’t think I’m crazy with drink. No! I’m clever.”