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When Mr. Boggs went from the house of Werter, it was
in no amiable frame of mind, and with no slight amount of
ire toward his former client, who had so unceremoniously
broken off the interview, with scarcely an acknowledgment
for the important intelligence brought to him by the attorney.
Besides this, there was something, as has been said,
in the old man's sudden transition from the wildest excitement
to a state of calmness and professed resignation—
something in that dreadful though momentary expression
of face which aroused the lawyer's suspicions. He could
not readily believe in the horrible idea which was suggested
to his mind, yet he could not divest himself of it. He was
not incapable of doing something in the cause of humanity,
and, besides this, he knew there was uncertainty where
this great wealth was going to alight, and whether Perth's
party might not prove the most able, and more willing than
Ralph had shown himself to be, to reward him for any services
he might render them. But what could he do? He
did not like to communicate suspicions which might have
no foundation, and the explanation of which might inculpate
himself as a spy, and a meddler in his neighbor's affairs.
While he hesitated and meditated, he had stopped
at a little distance from Werter's house, on the opposite
side of the street, whence he soon saw the rich man's carriage
emerge from the gateway, and pause before the front
door of the house. The hurried and nervous manner in

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which the old man came out and entered the vehicle were
not lost upon one so accustomed to close observation as
Boggs, who became more than ever assured that there was
mischief on foot. Before he had time to reflect, the carriage
dashed past him—he caught sight of the livid face of
Ralph, and with intuitive impulse he rushed forward in pursuit.
He knew that there was a hackney-coach stand a
few blocks distant, and he cared not for the observation he
excited as he fairly leaped rather than ran towards it. A
dozen doors flew open as he approached, and jumping into
the first, he said to the driver, pointing to the flying
coach—

“Follow the gray horses wherever they go—keep near,
but do not pass them, and stop when they stop. Do you
understand?”

“Yes—a runaway match, I guess—we'll catch them.”

Boggs did not reply, and the driver, entering into the
spirit of the chase, jumped upon the box and applied the
lash to his drowsy steeds. There was no difficulty in attaining
and maintaining a sufficient proximity to Werter's
carriage for all the purposes of Boggs, and when the former
alighted at the corner of Grand street, the attorney
followed his example at a safe distance, and, discharging
the hackman, continued the pursuit on foot. Slower or
faster, as the old man went, but always on the opposite
side of the street, and about a dozen yards behind him, always
stopping when Ralph stopped, and looking momentarily
into the shop windows until he passed on. Thus Boggs
followed cautiously, shrewdly, and with a resolute determination
not to be baulked of his design. The farther Werter
went, the more certain was the attorney that he was
upon some evil errand; and when, at length, after his long
and circuitous walk, he turned into a door-way, Boggs immediately
crossed the street to read the adjacent signs.

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There were but two, one of which immediately caught his
eye, and flashed fourfold conviction on his mind—it was
that of Dr. Brail. He knew the name; for, although obscure
then, it had been notorious in the legal records of
the city, and he felt almost as well assured of the nature
of Werter's errand as if he had passed with him into the
office of the professional villain, and had heard the fiendish
conspiracy that was plotting there. Yet it was not easy to
resolve what to do. He wished to attain more certainty,
and he would not have hesitated to avail himself of any
place or position for espionage and eaves-dropping—but
there was none to be found which would not expose him to
detection. He accordingly recrossed the street, and withdrew
into an opposite door-way, where he could at least
watch the return of Ralph, and see if the physician accompanied
him, which circumstance, if it occurred, would afford
additional proof of intended crime. He had long to wait,
so very long, that he began to fear Ralph had gone out
some other way, when at length he made his appearance
alone, with an air of increased agitation, and started with
rapid steps on his return. Boggs took another course
homeward, meditating with much irresolution on his proper
course of conduct. He dreaded the rich man's wrath and
persecution—he feared to strike an ineffectual blow, which
would be sure to recoil heavily upon himself, and so great
was this apprehension that it nearly outweighed his hopes
of gain by befriending the clients of Mr. Perth, which hope
had been his principal motive of action.

The fate of the invalid, whose hours were numbered, and
could be but few in any event, was to him a matter of secondary
consideration, although he would gladly, for the
sufferer's sake, have prevented the impending tragedy.

After much irresolution, and a dangerous loss of time,
he concluded, like most shuffling men, to adopt a middle

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course, which he thought might effect all he desired, or if
it failed, might at least shield him from danger. He would
call at once on Perth, and, without committing himself,
would give him warning by hints and inuendoes, sufficient
to enable him to save Sidney, and to insure the success of
his own plans. But here again time was lost. The young
attorney was not to be found at once, and Boggs had half
an hour to wait for him at his offiee, while a clerk sought
for him elsewhere and brought him home.

“Let me see you alone, Mr. Perth, immediately, on business
of great importance,” he said, when his legal brother
entered his office. The clerks withdrew, and Mr. Perth
waited with surprise for a communication so singularly heralded,
from a man whose professional walk was entirely
different from his own, and with whom he was scarcely acquainted.

“What I have to say must be in the strictest confidence.
Will you receive it as such?” continued the visitor.

“Undoubtedly. But please to be brief and explicit,
for time is unusually precious with me to-day.”

“It is more precious with your dying client—”

Perth started, and looked alarmed.

“Do not fear me—there are others to be feared and
watched.”

“Speak quicker—plainer—for the love of Heaven.”

“Everything is known or suspected in relation to young
Werter's will, and it is to be defeated at every hazard.
Fly to your client, remain at his bedside—see that he
drinks nothing—tastes nothing—that comes through suspected
hands.”

“What do you say, Boggs? What warrant have you
for these dreadful hints, and to whom do they point?” exclaimed
the young man, with great amazement.

“I cannot answer these questions, nor is there time for

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you to listen. I tell you that this very moment your client's
life is in jeopardy—perhaps it is already too late to
save him.”

“I will go this instant,” exclaimed Perth, unlocking,
with trembling hand, a private drawer, and taking from it
a roll of papers, which he deposited in his pocket.

“I do not know what cause you may have for these horrid
suspicions, but our design is known, and the worst is to
be feared. Will you go with me?”

“By no means, nor must my name be mentioned.” T

“I forgot. I will keep your secret. Keep mine.” T

So saying, Perth hastened into the street, called a hack,
and drove rapidly towards Werter's house. Reflection
brought increased alarm to his mind. It is difficult for a
virtuous man, unaccustomed to scenes of violence and
wrong, to realize the existence of great crime in his own
neighborhood, and among the peaceful walks of his own
daily life. He thinks of such scenes only as occurring far
away in some obscure place, and of the actors in them, not
as men bearing the common semblance of humanity, but as
half-deformed monsters, hideous and foul.

Thus Perth had never been awake to the real danger
which impended over Sidney, and even when the alarm was
first sounded in his ear, the thought that Addison was perpetually
at his friend's bedside, seemed a sufficient safeguard
for the dying boy. But now he feared the worst,
and he remembered that, like himself, young Jay would be
entirely unsuspicious of danger in the shape which now
threatened. Impatiently, almost insanely, he urged his
driver forward, for everything seemed to depend on gaining
a few moments of time. As he drew near the house,
he leaned from the carriage window and gazed earnestly
towards it. Ah! how his heart failed him, as he saw that
there was an unusual bustle about the premises.

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Neighbors were passing in—the family physician was going out—
domestics were conversing solemnly together in the court—
everything told him that he was too late. He leaped
from the carriage ere it stopped, but he stood paralyzed
where he alighted, for he saw Addison approach the door
with red eyes and with despairing countenance.

“Is he worse?” faltered Perth, as his friend came near.

“He is well,” answered Addison, solemnly.

“What do you mean?”

“He died half an hour ago.”

Long and constantly as Sidney's death had been expected,
the shock which it gave Addison, the violent grief
it occasioned him, were too great to admit of his at once
realizing any secondary misfortune. Mr. Perth did not
disturb his emotions by allusions either to his lost estates,
or to the still more agitating subject of his suspicions. He
passed into the house and gathered from others the particulars
of the solemn event, which all were discussing, and
which were not of an unusual character. The patient had
awakened from a long sleep, and seemed greatly refreshed
and unusually strong. He had conversed freely and distinctly,
asked to be allowed to sit up, and said that he even
felt as though he could walk. This unusual strength failed
as suddenly as it had come on—he went into a syncope,
and in a quarter of an hour ceased to breathe.

“Dr. Lee says it is quite common for people who have
been long ill to die in this way,” said Ralph, with an anxious
look at the attorney.

“Doubtless it is,” answered Perth, making the reply an
excuse for gazing into the eyes of Werter, and steadily perusing
their expression, until the guilty man turned suddenly
away, and went out of the room.

“Did he take anything after waking?” asked the lawyer
of old Sukey, who stood weeping by.

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“Nothing, unless it was a spoonful out of that tumbler,
which he took every hour,” she said, pointing to the stand.

They turned towards the table, but the tumbler was
gone. Perth reflected a moment, and resolved to pursue
the inquiry no further at that moment.

His own ends were irretrievably defeated, and even if he
had it in his power to convict Werter of the crime of which
he suspected him, it could in no wise benefit Addison or
his friends. By an inexorable fiat, the law had transferred
Sidney's estates to his uncle, and even if that uncle were
to perish on the scaffold, the property would remain in his
family. Besides, by all appearances, Sidney had died a
natural death, and if there had been guilt, the evidence of
it had been carefully removed. Perth even doubted whether
Werter had consummated his crime, whether he had
not been anticipated by natural causes. It was, at all
events, no light matter to set on foot inquiries and investigations
involving so grave a charge, and he resolved to do
nothing until he had conferred with his informant, Mr.
Boggs, and had learned on what facts his suspicions were
founded. But when that wary attorney ascertained what
had occurred, his views underwent a sudden change. He
told Mr. Perth he believed he had been too rash, indeed he
said circumstances had since come to light which convinced
him he was entirely in error, and reminding the young
lawyer of his promise of secrecy, he begged him to think
no more of such an unfortunate mistake. Perth did not
believe him, but without his assistance, he had no pretext
for a complaint against Werter, and he at once abandoned
all thought of making one.

p657-135

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