“I have another and very painful duty to perform,” continued Dr. Archer, addressing Captain Everett. “I find that your son, Mr. Frederick Everett, alone administered medicine and aliment to Mrs. Fitzhugh during her illness. Strange, possibly wholly frenzied expressions, but which sounded vastly like cries of remorse, irrepressible by a person unused to crime, escaped him in my hearing just after the close of the final scene; and—But perhaps, Captain Everett, you had better retire: this is scarcely a subject”—
“Go on, sir,” said the captain, over whose countenance a strange expression—to use Dr. Archer’s own words—had flashed; “go on: I am better now.”
“We all know,” resumed Dr. Archer, “how greatly Mr. Frederick Everett gains in wealth by his aunt’s death; and that her decease, moreover, will enable him to conclude the marriage to which she was so determinedly opposed. I think, therefore, that, under all the circumstances, we shall be fully justified in placing the young gentleman under such—I will not say custody, but surveillance as will prevent him either from leaving the house, should he imagine himself suspected, or of destroying any evidence which may possibly exist of his guilt, if indeed he be guilty.”
“I entirely agree with you, Dr. Archer,” exclaimed Mr. Hardyman, who had listened with much excitement to the doctor’s narrative; “and will, upon my own responsibility, take the necessary steps for effecting the object you have in view.”
“Gentlemen,” said Captain Everett, rising from his chair, “you will of course do your duty; but I can take no part, nor offer any counsel, in such a case; I must leave you to your own devices.” He then left the apartment.
He had been gone but a few minutes, when Frederick Everett, still in a state of terrible excitement, entered the room, strode fiercely up to Dr. Archer, and demanded how he dared propose, as the butler had just informed him he had done, a dissection of his aunt’s body.