“I am as positive it will as I am of my own life.”
“Well, then, I will assist you. First, then, Jackson was a confederate with Dawkins and myself, and received the plate and jewelry, for which he paid us less than one-third of the value.”
“Rogers and his wife were not, I hope, cognizant of this?”
“Certainly not; but Jackson’s wife, and the woman-servant, Riddet, were. I have been turning the other business over in my mind,” she continued, speaking with increasing emotion and rapidity; “and oh, believe me, Mr. Waters, if you can, that it is not solely a selfish motive which induces me to aid in saving Mary Rogers from destruction. I was once myself—— Ah God!”
Tears welled up to the fierce eyes, but they were quickly brushed away, and she continued somewhat more calmly:—“You have heard, I dare say, that Jackson has a strange habit of talking in his sleep?”
“I have, and that he once consulted Morgan as to whether there was any cure for it. It was that which partly suggested”——
“It is, I believe, a mere fancy of his,” she interrupted; “or at any rate the habit is not so frequent, nor what he says so intelligible, as he thoroughly believes and fears it, from some former circumstances, to be. His deaf wife cannot undeceive him, and he takes care never even to doze except in her presence only.”
“This is not, then, so promising as I hoped.”
“Have patience. It is full of promise, as we will manage. Every evening Jackson frequents a low gambling-house, where he almost invariably wins small sums at cards—by craft, no doubt, as he never drinks there. When he returns home at about ten o’clock, his constant habit is to go into the front-parlor, where his wife is sure to be sitting at that hour. He carefully locks the door, helps himself to brandy and water—plentifully of late—and falls asleep in his arm-chair; and there they both doze away, sometimes till one o’clock—always till past twelve.”
“Well; but I do not see how”——