Initials Only | Page 8

of a small winding staircase connecting
the mezzanine floor with a coat-room adjacent to the front door. This
has already been insisted on, as you will remember, and if you will
glance at the diagram which George hastily scrawled for me, you will
see why.
A. B., as well as C. D., are half circular openings into the office lobby.
E. F. are windows giving upon Broadway, and G. the party wall,
necessarily unbroken by window, door or any other opening.
____________________G.____| ===desk | | | | Where Miss C Fell-x o
| A o | o E o | ___ | | |___|table | | o | o | B o | o | ______ H ______ | |

*** | | | ** ** |elevator | | ** staircase | ** ** X.
|_______|___C_______D__| *** F Musician's Gallery |__
____________ ______________ ____| | Dining Room Level With
Lobby
It follows then that the only possible means of approach to this room
lies through the archway H., or from the elevator door. But the elevator
made no stop at the mezzanine on or near the time of the attack upon
Miss Challoner; nor did any one leave the table or pass by it in either
direction till after the alarm given by her fall.
But a bullet calls for no approach. A man at X. might raise and fire his
pistol without attracting any attention to himself. The music, which all
acknowledge was at its full climax at this moment, would drown the
noise of the explosion, and the staircase, out of view of all but the
victim, afford the same means of immediate escape, which it must have
given of secret and unseen approach. The coat-room into which it
descended communicated with the lobby very near the main entrance,
and if Mr. Brotherson were the man, his sudden appearance there
would thus be accounted for.
To be sure, this gentleman had not been noticed in the coatroom by the
man then in charge, but if the latter had been engaged at that instant,
as he often was, in hanging up or taking down a coat from the rack, a
person might easily pass by him and disappear into the lobby without
attracting his attention. So many people passed that way from the
dining-room beyond, and so many of these were tall, fine-looking and
well-dressed.
It began to look bad for this man, if indeed he were the one we had
seen under the street-lamp; and, as George and I reviewed the situation,
we felt our position to be serious enough for us severally to set down
our impressions of this man before we lost our first vivid idea. I do not
know what George wrote, for he sealed his words up as soon as he had
finished writing, but this is what I put on paper while my memory was
still fresh and my excitement unabated:
He had the look of a man of powerful intellect and determined will,

who shudders while he triumphs; who outwardly washes his hands of a
deed over which he inwardly gloats. This was when he first rose from
the snow. Afterwards he had a moment of fear; plain, human, everyday
fear. But this was evanescent. Before he had turned to go, he showed
the self-possession of one who feels himself so secure, or is so
well-satisfied with himself, that he is no longer conscious of other
emotions.
"Poor fellow," I commented aloud, as I folded up these words; "he
reckoned without you, George. By to-morrow he will be in the hands of
the police."
"Poor fellow?" he repeated. "Better say 'Poor Miss Challoner!' They
tell me she was one of those perfect women who reconcile even the
pessimist to humanity and the age we live in. Why any one should want
to kill her is a mystery; but why this man should --There! no one
professes to explain it. They simply go by the facts. To-morrow surely
must bring strange revelations."
And with this sentence ringing in my mind, I lay down and endeavoured
to sleep. But it was not till very late that rest came. The noise of
passing feet, though muffled beyond their wont, roused me in spite of
myself. These footsteps might be those of some late arrival, or they
might be those of some wary detective intent on business far removed
from the usual routine of life in this great hotel.
I recalled the glimpse I had had of the writing-room in the early
evening, and imagined it as it was with Miss Challoner's body removed
and the incongruous flitting of strange and busy figures across its fatal
floors, measuring distances and peering into corners, while hundreds
slept above and about them in undisturbed repose.
Then I thought of him,