possession, and its consequent commercial respect and credit.
He was a short, small-sized man, dressed in plain but rich garments, and wore no jewelry save a massive solitaire diamond ring. His head, which seemed to contain an average brain, was solidly set on a great, heavy neck, that actually continued to the top of the back of his head without a curve or depression. His hair, and beard – which was shaven away from his lower lip to the curve of his chin – had a shaggy sort of look, though generally well kept, and were considerably tinged with gray; while his eyebrows were remarkably long, irregular, and forbidding. His eyes were medium-sized, of a grayish-brown color, and under the heavy shade of the brows somewhat keen and restless. His cheek-bones were quite prominent, and below them his cheeks sank away noticeably, which served to more strikingly show the upward turn of his nose and his full lips and broad, sensual mouth, which, with its half-shown, irregular teeth and ever-present tobacco-stains (for he smoked or chewed incessantly), gave him a face quite unlike those ordinarily supposed to be captivating to women. With his broad, bony hands, large, ill-shaped feet, and retiring, hesitating way, as if never exactly certain of anything, he was truly a great contrast to the pompous, elegant gentleman who seemed to have taken him under his fatherly protection.
Lyon slid into his seat in a nervous, diffident way; while Harcout, who had just drawn his chair between us, as if he desired it understood that he did not propose to yield his office of general manager of this vitally important affair under any circumstances, beamed on his friend reassuringly.
After a few remarks on the current topics of the day, and before they were themselves aware of it, we were getting along swimmingly towards an understanding of the subject-matter – Lyon, who had removed his cigar, fairly eating an immense amount of fine-cut as the voluble Harcout rattled away about the bold, bad woman who had entrapped him.
"Why, my dear Mr. Pinkerton, it's a terrible matter – an infamous affair! My friend here, Mr. Lyon, is quite nettled about it – I might say, quite cut up. You can see for yourself, sir, that it's wearing on him." This with a deprecating wave of his hand towards Lyon, who nervously gazed out of the window from under his shaggy brows.
I merely said that these things were sometimes a little wearing.
"But you see, Mr. Pinkerton, this is a peculiarly cruel case – a peculiarly cruel case. Hem! I know what is cruel in this respect, as I was once victimized by very much the same sort of a female, though she was much younger. Why, do you know, sir," and here the sympathetic Harcout's voice fell into a solemn murmur, "that my friend's beloved wife was scarcely at rest beneath the daisies when this Mrs. Winslow began worming herself into the confidence of my somewhat impressible friend here?"
I made no answer, and only took a memorandum of the facts developed, not forgetting Harcout's statement that he had once been victimized by very much the same sort of a female.
"She came to Rochester as a shining light among the exponents of our blessed faith – "
"And what may your religion be?" I asked.
"We believe in the constant communication between mortals and the occupants of the beautiful spirit home beyond the river."
"Exactly," said I, noticing the remarkable development at the back of their heads and about their mouths.
"And our friend here, Mr. Lyon," continued Harcout, with his eyes devoutly raised to the ceiling, "met her at one of our pleasant seances."
I made another note at this point.
"To be frank – 'hem! it's my nature to be frank – " then turning his face to me and raising his eyebrows inquiringly – "I suppose, Mr. Pinkerton, it is quite desirable that I should be so?" To which I responded, "Necessarily so," when he resumed: "To be frank, then, Mr. Lyon was wonderfully interested in her. In fact, the woman has a strange power of compelling admiration and even fear – shall I say fear, Mr. Lyon?"
"Guess that's about right," said Mr. Lyon tersely.
"Admiration and fear," repeated Mr. Harcout, as if thinking of something long gone by, while Lyon chewed more fiercely than ever. "Indeed, Mr. Pinkerton, she's a superb woman – a superb woman; but a she-devil for all that!"
I noticed that Harcout's fervor seemed to have come from some similar experience, and I noted both it and his heated estimate of Mrs. Winslow, although he remarked that he had never met her.
"Well, my friend here was irresistibly drawn to her, and he has told me that for a time it seemed that he had found his real affinity. You felt that way, didn't you, Lyon?"
Lyon nodded and chewed rapidly.
"But for a long time the more my friend endeavored to secure her favor, the more she seemed to draw away from and avoid him, though constantly making opportunities to more deeply impress him with her most splendid physical and mental qualities. My friend recollects now, though he gave it no attention at the time, that she shrewdly drew from him much information regarding his family affairs, habits, business relations, and wealth; and as she was, or pretended to be, a medium of great power, at those times when he sought her professional services she worked upon his feelings in such a peculiar manner as to completely upset him."
Here Mr. Lyon offered an extended remark for the first time, and said: "The truth is, Mr. Pinkerton, this is a subject that I am particularly tender upon. I think under certain circumstances I could really have made the woman my wife;" then turning to his agent, he said, "Harcout, cut it short."
"But," Harcout protested, "we can't cut it short. Mr. Pinkerton wants facts – he must have facts. Well, at one time Mr. Lyon felt a real affection for the woman, which does him honor – is no disgrace to him; but after a time began to suspect, and eventually to feel sure, that Mrs. Winslow was playing a deep game; indeed, had originally come to Rochester for that purpose; and while he still regarded her highly on account of her fine qualities, refrained from seeking her society, which at once seemed to awaken a violent and uncontrollable passion for him in her heart. She sought him everywhere and compelled him to visit her frequently, lavishing the wildest affection upon him, which he delicately repelled – delicately repelled; and, as she represented herself in straitened circumstances, charitably assisted her just as he would have done any other person in want – any other person in want; but, you see, Mrs. Winslow presumed upon this, accused him of having broken her heart, and was now cruelly deserting her after he had taught her to worship him."
Mr. Lyon's nervous face presented a singular combination of pride at his own powers, chagrin at his predicament, and a general protest that the tender privacies of a millionaire should be thus disclosed.
"In this way," continued Harcout, "she so worked upon his kindly feelings that he really gave her large sums of money – large sums of money."
"A good deal of money," interrupted Mr. Lyon.
"But finally," pursued Harcout, "my friend saw that he must discontinue his charity altogether, and through my advice – hem! through my advice, he did. Mrs. Winslow then became very impudent indeed, and annoyed my friend beyond endurance, until he was forced to refuse to recognize her, and gave orders that she should be denied admission to his office. But, being a very talented woman – "
"She is talented," said Lyon, with a start.
"She has found means to continue her operations against him incessantly, demanding still larger sums of money, and has engaged counsel to act for her. Hem! – under my advice, quite recently Mr. Lyon, by paying her five thousand dollars, secured from her a relinquishment of all claims against him, rather than oblige a public scandal. But now Mrs. Winslow claims that this was secured by fraud, and after making another fruitless demand for ten thousand dollars,
