The test of which I speak was as follows:  
I would advertise for a person dressed as I believed Mrs. Van Burnam to have been when she left the scene of crime. If I received news of such a person, I might safely consider my theory established.
 
I accordingly wrote the following advertisement:
 
"Information wanted of a woman who applied¹ for lodgings² on the morning of the eighteenth inst., dressed in a brown silk skirt and a black and white plaid blouse of fashionable cut. She was without a hat, or if a person so dressed wore a hat, then it was bought early in the morning at some store, in which case let shopkeepers take notice. The person answering this description is eagerly sought for by her relatives, and to any one giving positive information of the same, a liberal reward will be paid. Please address, T. W. Alvord, —— Liberty Street."
 
I purposely did not mention her personal appearance, for fear of attracting the attention of the police.
 
This done, I wrote the following letter:
 
"Dear Miss Ferguson:
 
"One clever woman recognizes another. I am clever and am not ashamed to own it. You are clever[Pg 209] and should not be ashamed to be told so. I was a witness at the inquest in which you so notably³ distinguished⁴ yourself, and I said then, 'There is a woman after my own heart!' But a truce⁵ to compliments! What I want and ask of you to procure⁶ for me is a photograph of Mrs. Van Burnam. I am a friend of the family, and consider them to be in more trouble than they deserve. If I had her picture I would show it to the Misses Van Burnam, who feel great remorse⁷ at their treatment of her, and who want to see how she looked. Cannot you find one in their rooms? The one in Mr. Howard's room here has been confiscated⁸ by the police.[C]
 
"Hoping that you will feel disposed to oblige me in this—and I assure you that my motives⁹ in making this request are most excellent—I remain,
 
"Cordially yours,
 
"Amelia Butterworth.
"P. S.—Address me, if you please, at 564 —— Avenue. Care of J. H. Denham."
 
This was my grocer, with whom I left word the next morning to deliver this package in the next bushel of potatoes he sent me.
 
My smart little maid, Lena, carried these two communications to the east side, where she posted the letter herself and entrusted¹¹ the advertisement to a lover of hers who carried it to the Herald¹² office. While she was gone I tried to rest by exercising my mind in other directions. But I could not. I kept going over Howard's testimony¹³ in the light of my own theory, and remarking how the difficulty he experienced in maintaining the position he had taken, forced him into[Pg 210] inconsistencies and far-fetched explanations. With his wife for a companion at the Hotel D——, his conduct both there and on the road to his father's house was that of a much weaker man than his words and appearance led one to believe; but if, on the contrary, he had with him a woman with whom he was about to elope (and what did the packing up of all his effects mean, if not that?), all the precautions they took seemed reasonable.
 
Later, my mind fixed¹⁴ itself on one point. If it was his wife who was with him, as he said, then the bundle they dropped at the old woman's feet contained the much-talked of plaid silk. If it was not, then it was a gown of some different material. Now, could this bundle be found? If it could, then why had not Mr. Gryce produced it? The sight of Mrs. Van Burnam's plaid silk spread out on the Coroner's table would have had a great effect in clinching¹⁵ the suspicion against her husband. But no plaid silk had been found (because it was not dropped in the bundle, but worn away on the murderess's back), and no old woman. I thought I knew the reason of this too. There was no old woman to be found, and the bundle they carried had been got rid of some other way. What way? I would take a walk down that same block and see, and I would take it at the midnight hour too, for only so could I judge of the possibilities there offered for concealing¹⁶ or destroying such an article.
 
Having made this decision, I cast about to see how I could carry it into effect. I am not a coward, but I have a respectability to maintain, and what errand could Miss Butterworth be supposed to have in the streets at twelve o'clock at night! Fortunately, I[Pg 211] remembered that my cook had complained of toothache when I gave her my orders for breakfast, and going down at once into the kitchen, where she sat with her cheek propped¹⁷ up in her hand waiting for Lena, I said with an asperity¹⁸ which admitted of no reply:
 
"You have a dreadful tooth, Sarah, and you must have something done for it at once. When Lena comes home, send her to me. I am going to the drug-store for some drops, and I want Lena to accompany me."
 
She looked astounded¹⁹, of course, but I would not let her answer me. "Don't speak a word," I cried, "it will only make your toothache worse; and don't look as if some hobgoblin had jumped up on the kitchen table. I guess I know my duty, and just what kind of a breakfast I will have in the morning, if you sit up all night groaning²⁰ with the toothache." And I was out of the room before she had more than begun to say that it was not so bad, and that I needn't trouble, and all that, which was true enough, no doubt, but not what I wanted to hear at that moment.
 
When Lena came in, I saw by the brightness of her face that she had accomplished²¹ her double errand. I therefore signified to her that I was satisfied, and asked if she was too tired to go out again, saying quite peremptorily²² that Sarah was ill, and that I was going to the drug-store for some medicine, and did not wish to go alone.
 
Lena's round-eyed wonder was amusing; but she is very discreet²³, as I have said before, and she ventured nothing save a meek²⁴, "It's very late, Miss Butterworth," which was an unnecessary remark, as she soon saw.
 
I do not like to obtrude²⁵ my aristocratic tendencies[Pg 212] too much into this narrative²⁶, but when I found myself in the streets alone with Lena, I could not help feeling some secret qualms²⁷ lest my conduct savored²⁸ of impropriety. But the thought that I was working in the cause of truth and justice came to sustain me, and before I had gone two blocks, I felt as much at home under the midnight skies as if I were walking home from church on a Sunday afternoon.
 
There is a certain drug-store on Third Avenue where I like to deal, and towards this I ostensibly directed my steps. But I took pains to go by the way of Lexington Avenue and Twenty-seventh Street, and upon reaching the block where this mysterious couple were seen, gave all my attention to the possible hiding-places it offered.
 
Lena, wh............