It was certainly a remarkable thing that when Kitty had prepared her trap for Fenton just on the eve of his going away, by having Naball in hiding to arrest him, that Malton, the only man who could effectually accuse the American, should also have come down to Toorak in the nick of time. But, then, coincidences do happen in real life as well as in novels; and had Kitty carefully constructed the whole scene with an eye to dramatic effect, it could hardly have turned out better.
Eugénie sat with the actress in the drawing-room, waiting for the arrival of Fenton, and talking to Naball, who was seated near them. The detective had listened to all with the keenest interest, but, much to Kitty's disgust, seemed doubtful of the American's guilt.
"You were quick enough in accusing other people," she said angrily, "myself among the number, and now, when I show you plain proof, you disbelieve."
"I don't think the proof is strong enough, that's all," replied Naball drily. "We have only the word of a child that she picked up the link in the bedroom."
"Meg never tells falsehoods," interposed Eugénie quickly.
"I daresay not," he replied coolly. "However, Fenton may have lost this link before."
"No, he didn't," said Caprice decisively. "He had the links on when he was at supper. I saw them, and I ought to know, because I gave them to him myself."
"But why should Fenton steal your diamonds? He's got lots of money," argued Naball, who was rather annoyed at Kitty finding out more than he had.
"I don't know why he should," retorted the actress; "it's not my business or yours to discover motives--all I know is, he did it, and I'm going to have him arrested."
"Perhaps he'll be suspicious, and won't come."
"Oh yes, he will. He thinks I believe Stewart to be the thief, and as to coming, I can whistle him back at any moment. Hark!" as a ring came at the door. "There he is; get behind that screen. Miss Rainsford, you go into the next room till I call."
Naball promptly did as he was told, so did Eugénie, and when Fenton entered the room, he only found Kitty, calmly seated beside a little table, reading a book.
Fenton was looking wonderfully well, but with a watchful look on his face, as if he feared discovery. He had a good sum of money with him, his passage to Valparaiso, and never for a moment thought that he was on the edge of an abyss. Of course, Kitty did not know he was about to abscond, and never thought how near her prey had escaped. She received him quietly, with friendly interest, and Fenton, pulling a chair next to hers, began to talk eagerly, never dreaming that an officer of the law was listening to every word.
Not only that, but outside, crouching on the verandah, was a dark figure, with a livid face, listening to what the man inside was saying. Hiram Fenton, utterly unconscious, was surrounded on all sides by his enemies, and went on telling all his plans to Kitty, never thinking how near he was to the felon's dock from which he was flying.
"And what did you want to see me about!" asked Fenton, taking Caprice's hand.
"Nothing in particular," she replied carelessly; "the fact is, I haven't seen you for such a long time."
"Then you do care for me a little?"
Caprice shrugged her shoulders.
"As much as I do for any man; but I didn't ask you to come here to make love. I want to talk seriously about giving up the stage."
She was leading him on so that he should betray himself to the detective, and he walked straight into the trap.
"Oh, you're tired of acting," said Fenton thoughtfully.
"Yes; and of Melbourne. I want to go away."
Fenton started, and wondered if she knew he was going away also. He thought for a moment, and then replied,--
"Then, why not come with me?"
"With you!" cried Kitty derisively. "What about Mrs. Malton?"
"I tell you, I don't care two straws about Mrs. Malton," he rejoined angrily. "I was only amusing myself with her."
Amusing himself! The man outside ground his teeth together in anger, and clutched the packet of letters fiercely.
"And what about your dear friend--her husband?"
"Oh, Malton," said Fenton carelessly. "I don't know, nor do I care; he was a very useful man to me for a time. But, now, I'm off."
"Off!--where?"
"To Valparaiso. Yes, I'm sick of Australia, so I sail to-morrow morning for South America. Will you come with me, Kitty?"
Kitty looked doubtful.
"I don't know. We have no money."
"I have plenty. I've arranged all that, and if there's a row, my dear friend Malton will have to bear it. But now, Kitty, I've told you all, you must come with me. We can live a delightful life in South America. I know it well, and some of the places are Paradises. Come, say you'll come to-night."
He put his arms round her, and pressed a kiss on her lips. She shuddered at the impure caress, then pushing him away, arose to her feet.
"Don't touch me," she said harshly, "you--you thief!"
In a moment Fenton was on his feet, with an apprehensive look on his face.
"Thief! thief!" he cried fiercely; "what do you mean?"
"Mean," she said, turning on him like a tiger, "that I know now who stole my diamonds, Mr. Hiram Fenton."
"Do you accuse me?" he asked, with a pale face, gripping her wrist.
"Yes, I do," said Kitty, wrenching her wrist away, "and I've got a proof--this broken sleeve-link, dropped by you in my room on the night of the robbery."
"It's a lie!"
"It's true! I accuse you of stealing my diamonds. Detective Naball, arrest that man."
Fenton started as Naball stepped out from behind the screen, and then folded his arms, with an evil smile.
"So!" he said coolly, "this is a trap, I see; but I'm not to be caught in it. You say I stole your diamonds?"
"I do," said Kitty boldly.
"And your proof is that you picked up a broken sleeve-link?"
"Yes."
"Then, Mr. Detective," said Fenton, holding out both his wrists to Naball, "if you examine these, you will see neither of the links are broken."
Naball, with an ejaculation of surprise, examined both the links, and found what he said was correct--neither of the sleeve-links were broken.
"Have you not made a mistake?" he said to Caprice.
"No, I have not," she replied coolly. "When he found he had lost a sleeve-link, he got another made, in order to avert suspicion. I say Hiram Fenton stole my diamonds, and I give him in charge."
Naball stepped forward, but the American, who was now uneasy at the turn affairs had taken, waved him back.
"Wait a moment," he said quickly; "I deny the charge, and will prove it false to-morrow."
Kitty laughed derisively.
"By which time you will be on your way to Valparaiso. No, I'm not going to let you go."
"Neither am I," said Naball decisively. "I arrest you on this charge of robbery now," and he laid his hand on the shoulder of the American.
In a moment Fenton twisted himself away, and dexterously throwing Naball on the ground, darted towards one of the French windows.
"Not so fast, my friend," he said sneeringly, while Naball, half-stunned, was picking himself up; "guess I'll beat you this time. I care nothing for you nor that she-devil there. You can prove nothing."
Naball made a bound forward, but with a mocking laugh Fenton was about to step lightly through the window, when he was dashed violently back into Naball's arms, and Malton, pale as death sprang into the room.
"Hold him," he cried, clutching Fenton, who was too much astonished to make any resistance. "Don't let him go. He's guilty--I can prove it."
Eugénie had hurried into the room, attracted by the noise, and Kitty was standing near her, the two women clinging together for protection. Naball held Fenton firmly, while Malton, in a frenzy of rage, spoke rapidly.
"He is guilty of the robbery," he shrieked, menacing Fenton with his fists. "He embezzled money with me, and had it been found out, we would both have been put in prison. He stole the diamonds on the night of the supper, by going upstairs to your room, and then leaving by the window, so as to make people think it was a burglary."
"A cursed lie!" growled Fenton, making an effort to shake Naball off.
"No, it isn't," cried Malton furiously. "Villiers can prove it. You met him as you were coming round the house, and gave him some diamonds to make him hold his tongue."
"Oh, the crescent!" cried Naball.
"Yes, yes; and then he sold the diamonds to old Lazarus, and afterwards murdered him. Yes, he killed Jacob Lazarus!"
Fenton's nostrils dilated, he drew a deep breath, and gave a cry of anger; but Malton went on speaking rapidly.
"I got that note not from Ezra Lazarus, but from Fenton, and lied to shield him; but now, when I find out he makes love to my wife, I'll do anything to hang him. See, these letters--your cursed letters," flinging them on the ground before Fenton. "You liar, thief, murderer, you're done for at last!"
"Not yet!" yelled Fenton, and with a sudden effort he flung Naball off, and dashed for the window, but Malton sprang on him like a wild cat, and they both rolled on the floor. Naball jumped up, and went to Malton's help, when suddenly the American, with a supreme effort, wrenched himself clear of them, and ran once more for the window.
Seeing this, Kitty, who had remained a passive spectator, tried to stop him, but with an oath he hurled her from him, and she, falling against a table, knocked it over, and fell senseless on the ground. Fenton, with a cry of anger, dashed through the window, and disappeared into the darkness. But, quick as he was, Malton was quicker; for seeing his enemy escape him, he also sprang through the window, and gave chase.
Naball, breathless, and covered in blood, was about to go also, when a cry from Eugénie stopped him. The girl was kneeling down beside Kitty, while the frightened servants crowded in at the door.
"Oh, she is dead! dead!" cried Eugénie, looking down at the still face. "No; she can't be. Brandy--bring some brandy!"
A servant entered with the brandy, and Eugénie, filling a glass, forced some of the liquid between Kitty's clenched teeth. Naball also took a glass, as he was worn-out with the struggle, then, hastily putting on his hat, went out, leaving Kitty lying, to all appearances dead, in Eugénie's arms.
Meanwhile, Malton was close on the heels of the American, who had cleared out by the gate, and was making for the railway station. There were few people about; but the spectacle of two men racing bare-headed soon brought a crowd around. Fenton, with deep curses, sped on through the driving rain, and at last flew on to the platform, followed by Malton, who gasped out,--
"Seize him! Murderer! murderer!"
The station-master, a porter, and some passengers who were waiting, all sprang forward at this; so Fenton, seeing himself surrounded, gave one yell of rage, and, jumping on the line, ran along.
"My God!" cried the station-master, "the train is coming down; he will be killed."
He tried to hold Malton, who was mad with anger at seeing his prey escape him, and, foaming with anger, wrenched himself away.
"You'll be killed!" cried the porter; but Malton, with a hoarse cry, sprang on to the line, and sped after Fenton through the driving rain.
It was pitch dark, and the rain swept along in slanting sheets, through which gleamed the red and green of the signals. Malton, only actuated by a mad desire to seize Fenton, staggered blindly over the sleepers, stumbling at every step.
Suddenly he heard the hard breathing of the man he was pursuing, and the foremost figure loomed up dark and misshapen in the thick night. They were now near the railway bridge which crosses the Yarra-Yarra at this point, and the steady sweep of the river could be heard as it flowed against the iron girders.
Fenton, hearing some one close behind him, made a bound forwards, then fell on the line, with a shriek of despair. In a moment Malton was on him, and the two men rolled on the line, fighting like devils.
"Curse you!" hissed Malton, putting his knee on Fenton's chest, "I'll kill you!--I'll kill you!" And he dashed Fenton's head against the iron rails.
The American, in despair, flung up his hands, and caught Malton round the neck. Once more they fought, wrapped in a deadly embrace, when suddenly they felt the bridge vibrate, and, even in their struggle, saw rapidly approaching, through the darkness the light of the down train.
Malton, with a cry of horror, tried to release himself from Fenton's grip, but the American held him tight, and in another moment the train, with a roar, was on the bridge, and over their bodies.
One hoarse yell, and all was over. Evan Malton and Hiram Fenton were torn to pieces under the cruel wheels.
So this was the end of it all. The criminal, guilty of the two crimes which had agitated Melbourne for so many months, turned out to be the respected manager of The Never-say-die Insurance Company. After the discovery of his guilt, the affairs of the company were examined, and found to be in a terrible state of confusion. Fenton, aided by Malton, had embezzled large sums of money, and so carefully manipulated the accounts that their defalcations had never been noticed.
It was true that once they were on the verge of discovery unless some of the money was paid back, and this had been accomplished by the robbery of Kitty Marchurst's diamonds. As the two guilty men were dead, the only man who knew anything about the affair was Mr. Villiers, who soon found things made so warm for him that he confessed all he knew about the crime.
It appeared that, on the night of the supper, Fenton was in great straits for want of money to replace that embezzled by himself and Malton. Hearing Kitty state where she kept her diamonds, he determined to steal them if he could do so with safety. In going to the drawing-room, he saw Stewart descending the stairs, and, as the young man told him he had been in Kitty's room putting the child to bed, he thought he could steal the jewels on that night, and let Stewart bear the blame.
With this idea, he went upstairs, took the diamonds from their place, and, in order to make things doubly secure, should his idea of implicating Stewart fail, he got out of the window, and clambered down, so as to show that the house had been burglariously entered.
In stealing round to the front of the house, he met Villiers, who had seen all, and, in order to make him hold his tongue, had given him the small diamond crescent which Naball secured in Little Bourke Street. Of course, Kitty would not prosecute Keith, as he had saved her child's life; and it was his security in this belief that caused Fenton to urge on the detective.
About the murder, Villiers, as a matter of fact, knew very little; but when Naball said that the man who stole the diamonds also committed the crime, he went to Fenton, and taxed him with it. Fenton, at first, indignantly denied the accusation, but ultimately confessed to Villiers that he had done so. After giving back Keith his knife at the club, he had seen him hang up his coat, and dexterously extracted the weapon therefrom unknown to the owner. Then he went to Russell Street and committed the crime, in reality to gain possession of the diamonds, thinking they were in the safe, as he did not know that Lazarus had sent them to Amsterdam.
Therefore, the whole mystery was cleared up; and after making his confession, Villiers found public opinion so much against him, that he left the colony, and disappeared, no one knew where.
The dead bodies of the American and Malton were found on the railway line, and, after an inquiry had been made, were duly buried. Mrs. Malton went back to live with her father, and shortly afterwards married again.
Stewart was released from prison and became quite the hero of the hour, as every one sympathised with him for the way in which he had been treated. Eugénie told him all about her accession to fortune, and they agreed to get married and go to Europe. Ezra, also, now that he was wealthy, turned Benedict, and was united to Rachel a short time after his father's death.
"Faust Upset" ran for some time, but was ultimately withdrawn, as the part of Miss Mephistopheles was taken by another woman, and she failed to draw the public.
But Caprice?
Ah! poor woman, she was dying. In the struggle with Fenton, she had fallen in a perilous position, and had so injured her spine, that there was no hope of recovery.
It was on a Tuesday evening, and poor, wicked Kitty was lying in bed, with her weary eyes fixed on Meg, who was seated on Eugénie's lap, rather puzzled by the whole affair. Keith and Ezra were also present, in deference to Kitty's desire, as she wanted to formally give Meg over to Eugénie to bring her up. All the legal formalities had been gone through, and now they were waiting for the end--alas! it was not very far off.
"Do you feel easier, dear?" asked Eugénie, gently bending over the bed.
"Yes," replied Kitty in a slow, tired voice. "Better now; it will soon be over. You--you will look after my child?"
"I promise you, I will," said Eugénie fervently. "Would you like to see a minister?"
Kitty smiled with a touch of her old cynicism, and then her eyes filled with tears.
"A minister, yes," she said in a faltering voice. "God help me! and I was a minister's daughter. Look at me now, fallen and degraded, dying, with my life before me, and glad--yes, glad to die."
In obedience to a sign from Eugénie, Keith had slipped out of the room in order to bring the clergyman, and Kitty lay quiet, with the clear light of the evening shining on her pale face.
"Give me my child," she said at length, and then, as she took Meg to her breast and kissed her, she wept bitterly.
"God bless you, my darling," she sobbed; "think of me with pity. Eugénie, never--never let her know what I was. Let her believe me to have been a good woman. If I have sinned, see how I was tempted--see how I have suffered--let my child think her mother was a good woman."
Eugénie, crying bitterly, promised this, and then tried to take Meg away.
"Mumsey," said Meg, clinging to her mother, "why do you cry? Where are you going?"
"I'm dying, Meg, darling."
"Dying!" said Meg, to whom the word conveyed no idea, "dying!"
"Yes, dear; going away."
"I'll go, too."
"No, dear, no. You must stay here, and be a good girl. Mumsey is going far away--to the sky," finished poor Kitty, in a faltering voice.
"To the sky--then you'll see God," said Meg.
At this Kitty could bear no more, but burst into tears, and Meg was taken out of the room, being pacified with difficulty. Then Keith entered with the clergyman, who was left alone with the dying woman for some time.
When they all returned, they saw she was sinking rapidly, but she smiled faintly as Eugénie approached.
"I've told him all," she said in a low voice, "and he says God will forgive me."
"I'm sure He will, dear," said Eugénie in a faltering voice.
"Strange," said the dying woman, in a dreamy voice, "I, who never cared for religion, should want it now. I'm glad to die, for there was nothing to live for; but this terrible Death--I fear it. I don't know where I'm going--where am I going?" she asked piteously.
"To Heaven, dear," said Eugénie.
"Heaven!" repeated Kitty, her memory going back to her childhood; "that is where there is neither sun nor moon--the glory of God is there. Oh, I'll never go there--never--never!"
The room w T as now filled with floating shadows, and all present were kneeling by the bed. Meg, who had been brought back, and held by Eugénie, was beside her mother, awed by the solemnity of the scene. A pale shaft of clear light came through the window, and shone on the disordered white clothes of the bed and the still face of the dying woman.
No sound save the sighing of the wind outside, the sobs of Eugénie, and the grave tones of the clergyman's voice, reading the Sermon on the Mount, which in former days had been a great favourite with Kitty.
"Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God."
Poor soul, she that had not been pure was now dying, and dreaded lest her impurity should be brought up against her.
"Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy."
Ah, Kitty Marchurst, what mercy did you ever show? The inward voice came to her like an accusing spirit, and she shrank back in the bed. Then she opened her eyes.
"I would have been a good woman," she said pathetically; "but I--I was so young when I met Gaston."
Her voice became inarticulate, and with an effort she kissed her child, while the clergyman said the Lord's Prayer.
"Our Father which art in Heaven."
"Meg, Meg," she murmured, "Meg--God bless my little child!" And those were the last words of Kitty Marchurst, for when the prayer was ended she was lying back, with her pure, childlike face stilled in death.
So she went into the outer darkness laden with sins, but surely God in His mercy pardoned this woman, whose impurity was more the result of circumstances than anything else.
Let us not deny to others the mercy which we ourselves will need some day. Kitty was dead, with all her frailties and passions; and as the clergyman arose from his knees, he repeated reverently the words of his Master,--
"He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her."