Thou Art the Man
I WILL now play the Oedipus to the Rattleborough enigma. I will expound toyou -- as I alone can -- the secret of the enginery that effected theRattleborough miracle -- the one, the true, the admitted, the undisputed,the indisputable miracle, which put a definite end to infidelity among theRattleburghers and converted to the orthodoxy of the grandames all thecarnal-minded who had ventured to be sceptical before.This event -- which I should be sorry to discuss in a tone of unsuitablelevity -- occurred in the summer of 18--. Mr. Barnabas Shuttleworthy --one of the wealthiest and most respectable citizens of the borough -- hadbeen missing for several days under circumstances which gave rise tosuspicion of foul play. Mr. Shuttleworthy had set out from Rattleboroughvery early one Saturday morning, on horseback, with the avowed intentionof proceeding to the city of-, about fifteen miles distant, and ofreturning the night of the same day. Two hours after his departure,however, his horse returned without him, and without the saddle-bags whichhad been strapped on his back at starting. The animal was wounded, too,and covered with mud. These circumstances naturally gave rise to muchalarm among the friends of the missing man; and when it was found, onSunday morning, that he had not yet made his appearance, the whole borougharose en masse to go and look for his body.The foremost and most energetic in instituting this search was the bosomfriend of Mr. Shuttleworthy -- a Mr. Charles Goodfellow, or, as he wasuniversally called, "Charley Goodfellow," or "Old Charley Goodfellow."Now, whether it is a marvellous coincidence, or whether it is that thename itself has an imperceptible effect upon the character, I have neveryet been able to ascertain; but the fact is unquestionable, that therenever yet was any person named Charles who was not an open, manly, honest,good-natured, and frank-hearted fellow, with a rich, clear voice, that didyou good to hear it, and an eye that looked you always straight in theface, as much as to say: "I have a clear conscience myself, am afraid ofno man, and am altogether above doing a mean action." And thus all thehearty, careless, "walking gentlemen" of the stage are very certain to becalled Charles.Now, "Old Charley Goodfellow," although he had been in Rattleborough notlonger than six months or thereabouts, and although nobody knew any thingabout him before he came to settle in the neighborhood, had experienced nodifficulty in the world in making the acquaintance of all the respectablepeople in the borough. Not a man of them but would have taken his bareword for a thousand at any moment; and as for the women, there is nosaying what they would not have done to oblige him. And all this came ofhis having been christened Charles, and of his possessing, in consequence,that ingenuous face which is proverbially the very "best letter ofrecommendation."I have already said that Mr. Shuttleworthy was one of the most respectableand, undoubtedly, he was the most wealthy man in Rattleborough, while "OldCharley Goodfellow" was upon as intimate terms with him as if he had beenhis own brother. The two old gentlemen were next-door neighbours, and,although Mr. Shuttleworthy seldom, if ever, visited "Old Charley," andnever was known to take a meal in his house, still this did not preventthe two friends from being exceedingly intimate, as I have just observed;for "Old Charley" never let a day pass without stepping in three or fourtimes to see how his neighbour came on, and very often he would stay tobreakfast or tea, and almost always to dinner, and then the amount of winethat was made way with by the two cronies at a sitting, it would really bea difficult thing to ascertain. "Old Charleys" favorite beverage wasChateau-Margaux, and it appeared to do Mr. Shuttleworthy's heart good tosee the old fellow swallow it, as he did, quart after quart; so that, oneday, when the wine was in and the wit as a natural consequence, somewhatout, he said to his crony, as he slapped him upon the back -- "I tell youwhat it is, 'Old Charley,' you are, by all odds, the heartiest old fellowI ever came across in all my born days; and, since you love to guzzle thewine at that fashion, I'll be darned if I don't have to make thee apresent of a big box of the Chateau-Margaux. Od rot me," -- (Mr.Shuttleworthy had a sad habit of swearing, although he seldom went beyond"Od rot me," or "By gosh," or "By the jolly golly,") -- "Od rot me," sayshe, "if I don't send an order to town this very afternoon for a double boxof the best that can be got, and I'll make ye a present of it, I will! --ye needn't say a word now -- I will, I tell ye, and there's an end of it;so look out for it -- it will come to hand some of these fine days,precisely when ye are looking for it the least!" I mention this little bitof liberality on the part of Mr. Shuttleworthy, just by way of showing youhow very intimate an understanding existed between the two friends.Well, on the Sunday morning in question, when it came to be fairlyunderstood that Mr. Shuttleworthy had met with foul play, I never saw anyone so profoundly affected as "Old Charley Goodfellow." When he firstheard that the horse had come home without his master, and without hismaster's saddle-bags, and all bloody from a pistol-shot, that had goneclean through and through the poor animal's chest without quite killinghim; when he heard all this, he turned as pale as if the missing man hadbeen his own dear brother or father, and shivered and shook all over as ifhe had had a fit of the ague.At first he was too much overpowered with grief to be able to do any thingat all, or to concert upon any plan of action; so that for a long time heendeavored to dissuade Mr. Shuttleworthy's other friends from making astir about the matter, thinking it best to wait awhile -- say for a weekor two, or a month, or two -- to see if something wouldn't turn up, or ifMr. Shuttleworthy wouldn't come in the natural way, and explain hisreasons for sending his horse on before. I dare say you have oftenobserved this disposition to temporize, or to procrastinate, in people whoare labouring under any very poignant sorrow. Their powers of mind seem tobe rendered torpid, so that they have a horror of any thing like action,and like nothing in the world so well as to lie quietly in bed and "nursetheir grief," as the old ladies express it -- that is to say, ruminateover the trouble.The people of Rattleborough had, indeed, so high an opinion of the wisdomand discretion of "Old Charley," that the greater part of them feltdisposed to agree with him, and not make a stir in the business "untilsomething should turn up," as the honest old gentleman worded it; and Ibelieve that, after all this would have been the general determination,but for the very suspicious interference of Mr. Shuttleworthy's nephew, ayoung man of very dissipated habits, and otherwise of rather badcharacter. This nephew, whose name was Pennifeather, would listen tonothing like reason in the matter of "lying quiet," but insisted uponmaking immediate search for the "corpse of the murdered man. -- This wasthe expression he employed; and Mr. Goodfellow acutely remarked at thetime, that it was "a singular expression, to say no more." This remark of'Old Charley's,' too, had great effect upon the crowd; and one of theparty was heard to ask, very impressively, "how it happened that young Mr.Pennifeather was so intimately cognizant of all the circumstancesconnected with his wealthy uncle's disappearance, as to feel authorized toassert, distinctly and unequivocally, that his uncle was 'a murderedman.'" Hereupon some little squibbing and bickering occurred among variousmembers of the crowd, and especially between "Old Charley" and Mr.Pennifeather -- although this latter occurrence was, indeed, by no means anovelty, for no good will had subsisted between the parties for the lastthree or four months; and matters had even gone so far that Mr.Pennifeather had actually knocked down his uncles friend for some allegedexcess of liberty that the latter had taken in the uncle's house, of whichthe nephew was an inmate. Upon this occasion "Old Charley" is said to havebehaved with exemplary moderation and Christian charity. He arose from theblow, adjusted his clothes, and made no attempt at retaliation at all --merely muttering a few words about "taking summary vengeance at the firstconvenient opportunity," -- a natural and very justifiable ebullition ofanger, which meant nothing, however, and, beyond doubt, was no soonergiven vent to than forgotten.However these matters may be (which have no reference to the point now atissue), it is quite certain that the people of Rattleborough, principallythrough the persuasion of Mr. Pennifeather, came at length to thedetermination of dispersion over the adjacent country in search of themissing Mr. Shuttleworthy. I say they came to this determination in thefirst instance. After it had been fully resolved that a search should bemade, it was considered almost a matter of course that the seekers shoulddisperse -- that is to say, distribute themselves in parties -- for themore thorough examination of the region round about. I forget, however, bywhat ingenious train of reasoning it was that "Old Charley" finallyconvinced the assembly that this was the most injudicious plan that couldbe pursued. Convince them, however, he did -- all except Mr. Pennifeather,and, in the end, it was arranged that a search should be instituted,carefully and very thoroughly, by the burghers en masse, "Old Charley"himself leading the way.As for the matter of that, there could have been no better pioneer than"Old Charley," whom everybody knew to have the eye of a lynx; but,although he led them into all manner of out-of-the-way holes and corners,by routes that nobody had ever suspected of existing in the neighbourhood,and although the search was incessantly kept up day and night for nearly aweek, still no trace of Mr. Shuttleworthy could be discovered. When I sayno trace, however, I must not be understood to speak literally, for trace,to some extent, there certainly was. The poor gentleman had been tracked,by his horses shoes (which were peculiar), to a spot about three miles tothe east of the borough, on the main road leading to the city. Here thetrack made off into a by-path through a piece of woodland -- the pathcoming out again into the main road, and cutting off about half a mile ofthe regular distance. Following the shoe-marks down this lane, the partycame at length to a pool of stagnant water, half hidden by the brambles,to the right of the lane, and opposite this pool all vestige of the trackwas lost sight of. It appeared, however, that a struggle of some naturehad here taken place, and it seemed as if some large and heavy body, muchlarger and heavier than a man, had been drawn from the by-path to thepool. This latter was carefully dragged twice, but nothing was found; andthe party was upon the point of going away, in despair of coming to anyresult, when Providence suggested to Mr. Goodfellow the expediency ofdraining the water off altogether. This project was received with cheers,and many high compliments to "Old Charley" upon his sagacity andconsideration. As many of the burghers had brought spades with them,supposing that they might possibly be called upon to disinter a corpse,the drain was easily and speedily effected; and no sooner was the bottomvisible, than right in the middle of the mud that remained was discovereda black silk velvet waistcoat, which nearly every one present immediatelyrecognized as the property of Mr. Pennifeather. This waistcoat was muchtorn and stained with blood, and there were several persons among theparty who had a distinct remembrance of its having been worn by its owneron the very morning of Mr. Shuttleworthy's departure for the city; whilethere were others, again, ready to testify upon oath, if required, thatMr. P. did not wear the garment in question at any period during theremainder of that memorable day, nor could any one be found to say that hehad seen it upon Mr. P.'s person at any period at all subsequent to Mr.Shuttleworthy's disappearance.Matters now wore a very serious aspect for Mr. Pennifeather, and it wasobserved, as an indubitable confirmation of the suspicions which wereexcited against him, that he grew exceedingly pale, and when asked what hehad to say for himself, was utterly incapable of saying a word. Hereupon,the few friends his riotous mode of living had left him, deserted him atonce to a man, and were even more clamorous than his ancient and avowedenemies for his instantaneous arrest. But, on the other hand, themagnanimity of Mr. Goodfellow shone forth with only the more brilliantlustre through contrast. He made a warm and intensely eloquent defence ofMr. Pennifeather, in which he alluded more than once to his own sincereforgiveness of that wild young gentleman -- "the heir of the worthy Mr.Shuttleworthy," -- for the insult which he (the young gentleman) had, nodoubt in the heat of passion, thought proper to put upon him (Mr.Goodfellow). "He forgave him for it," he said, "from the very bottom ofhis heart; and for himself (Mr. Goodfellow), so far from pushing thesuspicious circumstances to extremity, which he was sorry to say, reallyhad arisen against Mr. Pennifeather, he (Mr. Goodfellow) would make everyexertion in his power, would employ all the little eloquence in hispossession to -- to -- to -- soften down, as much as he couldconscientiously do so, the worst features of this really exceedinglyperplexing piece of business."Mr. Goodfellow went on for some half hour longer in this strain, very muchto the credit both of his head and of his heart; but your warm-heartedpeople are seldom apposite in their observations -- they run into allsorts of blunders, contre-temps and mal apropos-isms, in thehot-headedness of their zeal to serve a friend -- thus, often with thekindest intentions in the world, doing infinitely more to prejudice hiscause than to advance it.So, in the present instance, it turned out with all the eloquence of "OldCharley"; for, although he laboured earnestly in behalf of the suspected,yet it so happened, somehow or other, that every syllable he uttered ofwhich the direct but unwitting tendency was not to exalt the speaker inthe good opinion of his audience, had the effect to deepen the suspicionalready attached to the individual whose cause he pleaded, and to arouseagainst him the fury of the mob.One of the most unaccountable errors committed by the orator was hisallusion to the suspected as "the heir of the worthy old gentleman Mr.Shuttleworthy." The people had really never thought of this before. Theyhad only remembered certain threats of disinheritance uttered a year ortwo previously by the uncle (who had no living relative except thenephew), and they had, therefore, always looked upon this disinheritanceas a matter that was settled -- so single-minded a race of beings were theRattleburghers; but the remark of "Old Charley" brought them at once to aconsideration of this point, and thus gave them to see the possibility ofthe threats having been nothing more than a threat. And straightwayhereupon, arose the natural question of cui bono? -- a question thattended even more than the waistcoat to fasten the terrible crime upon theyoung man. And here, lest I may be misunderstood, permit me to digress forone moment merely to observe that the exceedingly brief and simple Latinphrase which I have employed, is invariably mistranslated andmisconceived. "Cui bono?" in all the crack novels and elsewhere, -- inthose of Mrs. Gore, for example, (the author of "Cecil,") a lady whoquotes all tongues from the Chaldaean to Chickasaw, and is helped to herlearning, "as needed," upon a systematic plan, by Mr. Beckford, -- in allthe crack novels, I say, from those of Bulwer and Dickens to those ofBulwer and Dickens to those of Turnapenny and Ainsworth, the two littleLatin words cui bono are rendered "to what purpose?" or, (as if quo bono,)"to what good." Their true meaning, nevertheless, is "for whoseadvantage." Cui, to whom; bono, is it for a benefit. It is a purely legalphrase, and applicable precisely in cases such as we have now underconsideration, where the probability of the doer of a deed hinges upon theprobability of the benefit accruing to this individual or to that from thedeed's accomplishment. Now in the present instance, the question cui bono?very pointedly implicated Mr. Pennifeather. His uncle had threatened him,after making a will in his favour, with disinheritance. But the threat hadnot been actually kept; the original will, it appeared, had not beenaltered. Had it been altered, the only supposable motive for murder on thepart of the suspected would have been the ordinary one of revenge; andeven this would have been counteracted by the hope of reinstation into thegood graces of the uncle. But the will being unaltered, while the threatto alter remained suspended over the nephew's head, there appears at oncethe very strongest possible inducement for the atrocity, and so concluded,very sagaciously, the worthy citizens of the borough of Rattle.Mr. Pennifeather was, accordingly, arrested upon the spot, and the crowd,after some further search, proceeded homeward, having him in custody. Onthe route, however, another circumstance occurred tending to confirm thesuspicion entertained. Mr. Goodfellow, whose zeal led him to be always alittle in advance of the party, was seen suddenly to run forward a fewpaces, stoop, and then apparently to pick up some small object from thegrass. Having quickly examined it he was observed, too, to make a sort ofhalf attempt at concealing it in his coat pocket; but this action wasnoticed, as I say, and consequently prevented, when the object picked upwas found to be a Spanish knife which a dozen persons at once recognizedas belonging to Mr. Pennifeather. Moreover, his initials were engravedupon the handle. The blade of this knife was open and bloody.No doubt now remained of the guilt of the nephew, and immediately uponreaching Rattleborough he was taken before a magistrate for examination.Here matters again took a most unfavourable turn. The prisoner, beingquestioned as to his whereabouts on the morning of Mr. Shuttleworthy'sdisappearance, had absolutely the audacity to acknowledge that on thatvery morning he had been out with his rifle deer-stalking, in theimmediate neighbourhood of the pool where the blood-stained waistcoat hadbeen discovered through the sagacity of Mr. Goodfellow.This latter now came forward, and, with tears in his eyes, askedpermission to be examined. He said that a stern sense of the duty he owedhis Maker, not less than his fellow-men, would permit him no longer toremain silent. Hitherto, the sincerest affection for the young man(notwithstanding the latter's ill-treatment of himself, Mr. Goodfellow)had induced him to make every hypothesis which imagination could suggest,by way of endeavoring to account for what appeared suspicious in thecircumstances that told so seriously against Mr. Pennifeather, but thesecircumstances were now altogether too convincing -- too damning, he wouldhesitate no longer -- he would tell all he knew, although his heart (Mr.Goodfellow's) should absolutely burst asunder in the effort. He then wenton to state that, on the afternoon of the day previous to Mr.Shuttleworthy's departure for the city, that worthy old gentleman hadmentioned to his nephew, in his hearing (Mr. Goodfellow's), that hisobject in going to town on the morrow was to make a deposit of anunusually large sum of money in the "Farmers and Mechanics' Bank," andthat, then and there, the said Mr. Shuttleworthy had distinctly avowed tothe said nephew his irrevocable determination of rescinding the willoriginally made, and of cutting him off with a shilling. He (the witness)now solemnly called upon the accused to state whether what he (thewitness) had just stated was or was not the truth in every substantialparticular. Much to the astonishment of every one present, Mr.Pennifeather frankly admitted that it was.The magistrate now considered it his duty to send a couple of constablesto search the chamber of the accused in the house of his uncle. From thissearch they almost immediately returned with the well-known steel-bound,russet leather pocket-book which the old gentleman had been in the habitof carrying for years. Its valuable contents, however, had beenabstracted, and the magistrate in vain endeavored to extort from theprisoner the use which had been made of them, or the place of theirconcealment. Indeed, he obstinately denied all knowledge of the matter.The constables, also, discovered, between the bed and sacking of theunhappy man, a shirt and neck-handkerchief both marked with the initialsof his name, and both hideously besmeared with the blood of the victim.At this juncture, it was announced that the horse of the murdered man hadjust expired in the stable from the effects of the wound he had received,and it was proposed by Mr. Goodfellow that a post mortem examination ofthe beast should be immediately made, with the view, if possible, ofdiscovering the ball. This was accordingly done; and, as if to demonstratebeyond a question the guilt of the accused, Mr. Goodfellow, afterconsiderable searching in the cavity of the chest was enabled to detectand to pull forth a bullet of very extraordinary size, which, upon trial,was found to be exactly adapted to the bore of Mr. Pennifeather's rifle,while it was far too large for that of any other person in the borough orits vicinity. To render the matter even surer yet, however, this bulletwas discovered to have a flaw or seam at right angles to the usual suture,and upon examination, this seam corresponded precisely with an accidentalridge or elevation in a pair of moulds acknowledged by the accused himselfto be his own property. Upon finding of this bullet, the examiningmagistrate refused to listen to any farther testimony, and immediatelycommitted the prisoner for trial-declining resolutely to take any bail inthe case, although against this severity Mr. Goodfellow very warmlyremonstrated, and offered to become surety in whatever amount might berequired. This generosity on the part of "Old Charley" was only inaccordance with the whole tenour of his amiable and chivalrous conductduring the entire period of his sojourn in the borough of Rattle. In thepresent instance the worthy man was so entirely carried away by theexcessive warmth of his sympathy, that he seemed to have quite forgotten,when he offered to go bail for his young friend, that he himself (Mr.Goodfellow) did not possess a single dollar's worth of property upon theface of the earth.The result of the committal may be readily foreseen. Mr. Pennifeather,amid the loud execrations of all Rattleborough, was brought to trial atthe next criminal sessions, when the chain of circumstantial evidence(strengthened as it was by some additional damning facts, which Mr.Goodfellow's sensitive conscientiousness forbade him to withhold from thecourt) was considered so unbroken and so thoroughly conclusive, that thejury, without leaving their seats, returned an immediate verdict of"Guilty of murder in the first degree." Soon afterward the unhappy wretchreceived sentence of death, and was remanded to the county jail to awaitthe inexorable vengeance of the law.In the meantime, the noble behavior of "Old Charley Goodfellow, had doublyendeared him to the honest citizens of the borough. He became ten times agreater favorite than ever, and, as a natural result of the hospitalitywith which he was treated, he relaxed, as it were, perforce, the extremelyparsimonious habits which his poverty had hitherto impelled him toobserve, and very frequently had little reunions at his own house, whenwit and jollity reigned supreme-dampened a little, of course, by theoccasional remembrance of the untoward and melancholy fate which impendedover the nephew of the late lamented bosom friend of the generous host.One fine day, this magnanimous old gentleman was agreeably surprised atthe receipt of the following letter:-Charles Goodfellow, Esq., RattleboroughFrom H.F.B. & Co.Chat. Mar. A -- No. 1.-- 6 doz. bottles (1/2 Gross){The above inscription lies vertically to the left of the following letterin the print version --Ed.}_"Charles Goodfellow, Esquire.__"Dear Sir -- In conformity with an order transmitted to our firm abouttwo months since, by our esteemed correspondent, Mr. BarnabusShuttleworthy, we have the honor of forwarding this morning, to youraddress, a double box of Chateau-Margaux of the antelope brand, violetseal. Box numbered and marked as per margin.__"We remain, sir_, __ _"Your most ob'nt ser'ts,_ _ _"HOGGS, FROGS, BOGS, & CO."City of --, June 21, 18--._"P.S. -- The box will reach you by wagon, on the day after your receiptof this letter. Our respects to Mr. Shuttleworthy._"H., F., B., & CO."The fact is, that Mr. Goodfellow had, since the death of Mr.Shuttleworthy, given over all expectation of ever receiving the promisedChateau-Margaux; and he, therefore, looked upon it now as a sort ofespecial dispensation of Providence in his behalf. He was highlydelighted, of course, and in the exuberance of his joy invited a largeparty of friends to a petit souper on the morrow, for the purpose ofbroaching the good old Mr. Shuttleworthy's present. Not that he said anything about "the good old Mr. Shuttleworthy" when he issued theinvitations. The fact is, he thought much and concluded to say nothing atall. He did not mention to any one -- if I remember aright -- that he hadreceived a present of Chateau-Margaux. He merely asked his friends to comeand help him drink some, of a remarkable fine quality and rich flavour,that he had ordered up from the city a couple of months ago, and of whichhe would be in the receipt upon the morrow. I have often puzzled myself toimagine why it was that "Old Charley" came to the conclusion to saynothing about having received the wine from his old friend, but I couldnever precisely understand his reason for the silence, although he hadsome excellent and very magnanimous reason, no doubt.The morrow at length arrived, and with it a very large and highlyrespectable company at Mr. Goodfellow's house. Indeed, half the boroughwas there, -- I myself among the number, -- but, much to the vexation ofthe host, the Chateau-Margaux did not arrive until a late hour, and whenthe sumptuous supper supplied by "Old Charley" had been done very amplejustice by the guests. It came at length, however, -- a monstrously bigbox of it there was, too -- and as the whole party were in excessivelygood humor, it was decided, nem. con., that it should be lifted upon thetable and its contents disembowelled forthwith.No sooner said than done. I lent a helping hand; and, in a trice we hadthe box upon the table, in the midst of all the bottles and glasses, not afew of which were demolished in the scuffle. "Old Charley," who was prettymuch intoxicated, and excessively red in the face, now took a seat, withan air of mock dignity, at the head of the board, and thumped furiouslyupon it with a decanter, calling upon the company to keep order "duringthe ceremony of disinterring the treasure."After some vociferation, quiet was at length fully restored, and, as veryoften happens in similar cases, a profound and remarkable silence ensued.Being then requested to force open the lid, I complied, of course, "withan infinite deal of pleasure." I inserted a chisel, and giving it a fewslight taps with a hammer, the top of the box flew suddenly off, and atthe same instant, there sprang up into a sitting position, directly facingthe host, the bruised, bloody, and nearly putrid corpse of the murderedMr. Shuttleworthy himself. It gazed for a few seconds, fixedly andsorrowfully, with its decaying and lack-lustre eyes, full into thecountenance of Mr. Goodfellow; uttered slowly, but clearly andimpressively, the words -- "Thou art the man!" and then, falling over theside of the chest as if thoroughly satisfied, stretched out its limbsquiveringly upon the table.The scene that ensued is altogether beyond description. The rush for thedoors and windows was terrific, and many of the most robust men in theroom fainted outright through sheer horror. But after the first wild,shrieking burst of affright, all eyes were directed to Mr. Goodfellow. IfI live a thousand years, I can never forget the more than mortal agonywhich was depicted in that ghastly face of his, so lately rubicund withtriumph and wine. For several minutes he sat rigidly as a statue ofmarble; his eyes seeming, in the intense vacancy of their gaze, to beturned inward and absorbed in the contemplation of his own miserable,murderous soul. At length their expression appeared to flash suddenly outinto the external world, when, with a quick leap, he sprang from hischair, and falling heavily with his head and shoulders upon the table, andin contact with the corpse, poured out rapidly and vehemently a detailedconfession of the hideous crime for which Mr. Pennifeather was thenimprisoned and doomed to die.What he recounted was in substance this: -- He followed his victim to thevicinity of the pool; there shot his horse with a pistol; despatched itsrider with the butt end; possessed himself of the pocket-book, and,supposing the horse dead, dragged it with great labour to the brambles bythe pond. Upon his own beast he slung the corpse of Mr. Shuttleworthy, andthus bore it to a secure place of concealment a long distance off throughthe woods.The waistcoat, the knife, the pocket-book, and bullet, had been placed byhimself where found, with the view of avenging himself upon Mr.Pennifeather. He had also contrived the discovery of the stainedhandkerchief and shirt.Towards the end of the blood-churning recital the words of the guiltywretch faltered and grew hollow. When the record was finally exhausted, hearose, staggered backward from the table, and fell-dead.------------The means by which this happily-timed confession was extorted, althoughefficient, were simple indeed. Mr. Goodfellow's excess of frankness haddisgusted me, and excited my suspicions from the first. I was present whenMr. Pennifeather had struck him, and the fiendish expression which thenarose upon his countenance, although momentary, assured me that his threatof vengeance would, if possible, be rigidly fulfilled. I was thus preparedto view the manoeuvering of "Old Charley" in a very different light fromthat in which it was regarded by the good citizens of Rattleborough. I sawat once that all the criminating discoveries arose, either directly orindirectly, from himself. But the fact which clearly opened my eyes to thetrue state of the case, was the affair of the bullet, found by Mr. G. inthe carcass of the horse. I had not forgotten, although the Rattleburghershad, that there was a hole where the ball had entered the horse, andanother where it went out. If it were found in the animal then, afterhaving made its exit, I saw clearly that it must have been deposited bythe person who found it. The bloody shirt and handkerchief confirmed theidea suggested by the bullet; for the blood on examination proved to becapital claret, and no more. When I came to think of these things, andalso of the late increase of liberality and expenditure on the part of Mr.Goodfellow, I entertained a suspicion which was none the less strongbecause I kept it altogether to myself.In the meantime, I instituted a rigorous private search for the corpse ofMr. Shuttleworthy, and, for good reasons, searched in quarters asdivergent as possible from those to which Mr. Goodfellow conducted hisparty. The result was that, after some days, I came across an old drywell, the mouth of which was nearly hidden by brambles; and here, at thebottom, I discovered what I sought.Now it so happened that I had overheard the colloquy between the twocronies, when Mr. Goodfellow had contrived to cajole his host into thepromise of a box of Chateaux-Margaux. Upon this hint I acted. I procured astiff piece of whalebone, thrust it down the throat of the corpse, anddeposited the latter in an old wine box-taking care so to double the bodyup as to double the whalebone with it. In this manner I had to pressforcibly upon the lid to keep it down while I secured it with nails; and Ianticipated, of course, that as soon as these latter were removed, the topwould fly off and the body up.Having thus arranged the box, I marked, numbered, and addressed it asalready told; and then writing a letter in the name of the wine merchantswith whom Mr. Shuttleworthy dealt, I gave instructions to my servant towheel the box to Mr. Goodfellow's door, in a barrow, at a given signalfrom myself. For the words which I intended the corpse to speak, Iconfidently depended upon my ventriloquial abilities; for their effect, Icounted upon the conscience of the murderous wretch.I believe there is nothing more to be explained. Mr. Pennifeather wasreleased upon the spot, inherited the fortune of his uncle, profited bythe lessons of experience, turned over a new leaf, and led happily everafterward a new life.
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