But who would have
thought it was he after I pulled his hair out? Or after he persisted
in his trick, even when I suspected him--which, he told us at
Seldon, was against his first principles?"
A light dawned upon me again. But, warned by previous ebullitions,
I expressed myself this time with becoming timidity. "Charles,"
I suggested, "may we not here again have been the slaves of a
preconception? We thought Forbes-Gaskell was Colonel Clay--for
no better reason than because he wore a wig. We thought Elihu
Quackenboss wasn't Colonel Clay--for no better reason than because
he didn't wear one. But how do we know he _ever_ wears wigs? Isn't it
possible, after all, that those hints he gave us about make-up, when
he was Medhurst the detective, were framed on purpose, so as to
mislead and deceive us? And isn't it possible what he said of his
methods at the Seamew's island that day was similarly designed in
order to hoodwink us?"
"That is so obvious, Sey," my brother-in-law observed, in a most
aggrieved tone, "that I should have thought any secretary worth his
salt would have arrived at it instantly."
I abstained from remarking that Charles himself had not arrived at
it even now, until I told him. I thought that to say so would serve
no good purpose. So I merely went on: "Well, it seems to me likely
that when he came as Medhurst, with his hair cut short, he was
really wearing his own natural crop, in its simplest form and of
its native hue.
Pages:
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223