"Arthur Ferris the son of Dean!" repeated Gebb, looking alternately at solicitor and barrister. "Well, I never heard of such a thing. Did you know of it, Mr. Alder?"
Alder shook his head with unqualified amazement. "Not I!" he said. "I suggested that Ferris was shielding Dean, only because I am certain Dean is the assassin; and only the assassin could have given that necklace taken from the dead woman to Ferris, but I had no idea that there was any relationship or even acquaintance between them."
"Nevertheless it is true," replied Prain, with a nod. "I was Dean's lawyer, as you know, and he told me much of his family history. When his wife died, he placed his son Arthur with some of her relatives, and went himself as a bachelor down to the Hall, to court Laura Kirkstone for his second wife and meet with his fate. When he was imprisoned for the murder of Kirkstone, the relatives of Arthur gave him his mother's name of Ferris. I have kept my eye on that young man all my life--or, rather, all his life of twenty-five years, and have even assisted him on occasions with money. He is the son of Dean right enough, although he still keeps to the name of Ferris."
"Oh! he knows who he is, then?" said Gebb, sharply.
"Certainly! He has known it for many years."
"Has he any idea of the whereabouts of his father?" questioned Alder.
"No; he would have told me if he had, as he is well aware that I consider his father innocent, and would not give him up to the law even if I knew of his hiding-place."
"Do you believe that Dean is innocent in this instance, Mr. Prain?"
The little man moved restlessly and evaded a direct reply to the inquiry of Alder. "That is a question I cannot answer," he said dubiously. "I asked Ferris if he obtained the necklace from his father, but he denied that he did, and added that he was ignorant of his father's whereabouts. He declared that he had not seen his father since he was five years of age."
"Oh, of course he would say all that!" cried Alder, with scorn, "in order to shield his father, as I suggested; although until you spoke I did not know who Dean really was. The evidence against Dean seems clear enough to me."
"In what way?" asked Gebb, anxious to hear Alder's ground of accusation, since he appeared so certain of Dean's guilt.
"In every way," retorted the barrister. "Dean hunted Miss Gilmar down and killed her in Paradise Row. Being hard up, as he must be, seeing that he is an outlaw and in hiding, he stole the jewels she wore. He, no doubt, gave the necklace to Ferris, as I know the young man is as poor as a church mouse, and kept the other jewels to himself. I don't say that Ferris knew at the time his father had killed Miss Gilmar, but when Mr. Gebb here stated that the necklace was taken from her dead body, Ferris is quick enough to put two and two together, and guess what his father had done. He therefore holds his tongue and refuses to say from whom he got the necklace. A man with his life in jeopardy would not keep silent without a strong motive, and what stronger motive can Ferris have than one which concerns the safety of his father? To me the affair is as clear as day."
"Your case is very ingeniously constructed, I admit," said Prain, dryly, "and you argue the rope round Dean's neck in fine style. Nevertheless your theory is--theory, and nothing more."
"Well," said Alder, with a shrug, "what does Mr. Gebb say?"
"Mr. Gebb says nothing at present," rejoined that gentleman, after a moment's thought. "Least said, soonest mended. When I gather more evidence I shall speak more freely."
"Where do you intend to look for evidence?"
"At Kirkstone Hall. I shall ask Miss Wedderburn why she fainted on the occasion of my mentioning about Ferris; although I did ask her once, and she lied."
"I can explain that," observed Prain, quickly. "I said I would not do so without the young lady's permission, but as I have been forced to tell you about Dean's relationship to Ferris, I may as well reveal the rest. Miss Wedderburn knows that Arthur is the son of Dean, so when you asked her about him, I dare say the thought struck her that you knew of it through me, and intended to accuse him of killing Miss Gilmar to avenge his father. With a revulsion of feeling she fainted. There--you have the explanation from my point of view."
"That's all very well, Mr. Prain; but I wish to have the explanation from Miss Wedderburn's point of view. Where is she now?"
"Still at the Hall," said Alder, gloomily; "but she intends to leave it, now that I am master there."
"Oh!" said Prain, with a smile. "She refuses to be its mistress?"
"Yes! I don't mind confessing it. She is infatuated with Ferris, and when I went down the other day to ask her for the last time to be my wife, she refused me, and declared that she intended to marry Ferris. But I don't bear him any ill-will," said Alder, generously. "We both love Miss Wedderburn, and she prefers him in his poverty to me with my money. Still, I don't know how she can bear the idea of marrying the son of a murderer."
"Perhaps, like myself, she believes in Dean's innocence," said Prain, dryly.
"If he is guilty of the first crime, he is guilty of the second."
"Well," said Gebb, thoughtfully, "there is something in that. Unless Dean had been guilty of Kirkstone's murder, he would not have been so bent upon punishing the woman who accused him of it, and it is just possible he murdered her out of revenge. However, I believe myself that Dean is innocent of both crimes. As to the second, I shall see Ferris again, and try to learn if he got the necklace from his father; as to the first," added Gebb, emphatically, "I shall search Kirkstone Hall for Miss Gilmar's confession."
"Her confession!" repeated Alder, surprised. "What confession?"
"Ah!" said Prain, taking no notice of the barrister's question, and addressing Gebb, "so you are coming round to my opinion--that Miss Gilmar killed Kirkstone."
"It has been my opinion for some time," rejoined Gebb, coolly, "and I believe that Miss Gilmar left a confession behind her telling the truth. I don't think she would risk its discovery by carrying it about with her, so it is probable she wrote it out and concealed it in some hiding-place at Kirkstone Hall."
"In that case search the Hall," said Alder, disbelievingly. "You have my full permission to do so."
"I shall certainly avail myself of it, Mr. Alder. So Miss Wedderburn leaves the Hall. What about herprotégé, Martin?"
"That lunatic! I don't know. He had better stay where he is for the present, although I think myself he should be locked up."
"What does Miss Wedderburn think?"
"She says he is mad, but not dangerous, and asked me to let him stay on at the Hall until she is settled--with Ferris, I suppose--when she will take him with her. A nice companion he will be to a young married couple."
"I'm afraid that marriage won't take place for some time," said Prain, gloomily; "even if Arthur does escape, he's too poor to keep a wife."
"In that case," said Alder, rising to take his leave, "there may be a chance for me. While there is life there's hope, you know."
Prain shook his head with a doubtful smile. "While Arthur Ferris lives Miss Wedderburn won't marry you," he said positively.
Alder stopped at the door and looked back. "See here, Mr. Prain," he remarked earnestly, "I'm all fair, square, and above-board. Gebb here will tell you that before you came I defended Ferris, because I consider him innocent. But I believe that his father killed Kirkstone and my cousin, and I am certain that both crimes will be brought home to him. In that case I have my doubts as to whether a proud girl like Edith will marry the son of a murderer. If she does not, she will accept me, of that I am certain; and I shall do everything to bring such a marriage about."
"Well," said Prain, "I've known Edith all her life, and I don't think she will marry you."
"We'll see about that," rejoined Alder, confidently, and swung out of the door with a look of determination in his blue eyes.
Prain shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, for he thought that the barrister was over-confident for a lover. Then he took up his hat to go, and addressed a last question to Gebb.
"Well, sir," said he, grimly, "and what do you intend to do now?"
"Three things, Mr. Prain, and I don't mind telling you what they are. I intend to question both Ferris and Miss Wedderburn, I intend to search Kirkstone Hall for that confession of Miss Gilmar's, which I really believe exists, and I intend to call upon Mr. Clement Basson."
"What about Basson--can he prove anything?"
"He can prove an alibi in favour of Ferris," said Gebb; and forthwith related to Prain all that he had been told by Alder regarding the lecture in the Grangebury Town Hall.
Prain listened attentively, and nodded his head approvingly, for he was pleased to find a loophole for Arthur's escape.
"Very creditable to Alder," he said, when the detective finished. "His conduct in speaking up for Ferris deserves our praise. Few men would be so generous to their rival. But if this is so, why did not Ferris clear himself before the magistrate? He would be free now, had he done so."
"Well," said Gebb, thoughtfully, "so far as that goes, we come back to Mr. Alder's belief. Ferris is shielding his father."
"If he is," said Prain, "Dean must be guilty."
"It looks like it. But I tell you what, Mr. Prain," cried Gebb, emphatically, "as sure as I sit here Dean is innocent! Whosoever killed Miss Gilmar was expected by her; was a friend with whom she was at her ease; that is proved by the smoking and the wine. She would not have been at ease with Dean."
"He might have been disguised as a fortune-teller," suggested Prain.
"No, I don't believe it. No disguise could have hidden him from the eyes of a woman who feared him so. Whosoever killed that woman, it wasn't Dean."
"Then why is Ferris shielding Dean?"
"We don't know if he is; you, yourself, said that he denied it."
"I know I did; I know he does!" cried Prain, in despair. "God bless my soul, what a case this is! The more we talk about it the more confused does it become. I tell you what, Gebb, your only chance of arriving at the truth lies in either forcing Ferris to confess where he got the necklace, or in hunting down Dean."
"I'll try the first of your suggestions at once," said Gebb, putting on his hat. "And if Ferris won't confess to me, I'll write and ask Miss Wedderburn to come to town."
"What good can she do?"
"She can make him confess the truth. What the man won't do for justice he may do for love. However, I'll see him at once. Justice will make the first attempt--Love the second."
"And both will fail!" cried Prain. "You'd better catch Dean, my good man."
"That's easier said than done," retorted Gebb; and the two parted, each more or less exasperated. And very naturally, for the perplexities of the Grangebury murder case were enough to anger the mildest natures, and those of Prain and Gebb were rather the reverse.
Irritated and puzzled by the complexion of affairs, Gebb did not let the grass grow under his feet, but at once visited the prison in which Arthur Ferris was confined. He easily obtained permission to see him and entered to find the young man looking ill and worn, but as firm as ever in his policy of silence, Gebb came to the reason of his visit forthwith.
"Well, Mr. Ferris, you are a nice gentleman to stay here, when a word from you in the Court would clear you of all this."
"What word?" asked Ferris, suspecting a snare, and speaking cautiously.
"Why! word where you were at the time of the murder. I know you did not kill Miss Gilmar."
"How do you know that?" asked the young man, with a start.
"Because you were in the Grangebury Town Hall listening to the lecture on Dickens," replied Gebb. "Mr. Alder told me."
"It is very kind of Alder to defend me," replied Ferris, frankly, "Yes, Mr. Gebb, it is quite true. I was not near Miss Gilmar on that night. I am innocent."
"Then why didn't you say so?"
"I did, several times."
"But why don't you produce your alibi?"
"Because I don't choose to," retorted Ferris, slowly, and turned sulky again.
"So you are shielding your father, after all?"
"Who told you about my father?" he asked tremulously.
"Mr. Prain," said Gebb. "Your father is Dean, who swore to kill that woman for accusing him of Kirkstone's murder. He escaped and killed her and gave you the necklace, and you won't speak because you want to save your father's neck."
"My father has nothing to do with it, Mr. Gebb. I did not get the necklace from him. I don't know where he is. This is my last word," said Ferris, firmly. And it was.
Gebb begged and implored and threatened, but to no purpose. Whatever Ferris knew he kept to himself.
Having failed with Ferris, owing to the artist's obstinate refusal to speak, Gebb thought that he would hear what Basson had to say. He knew from Prain that the barrister had defended Marmaduke Dean, and although he had not succeeded in obtaining an acquittal, believed that his client was innocent. Dean, of course, must have known that his counsel held this opinion; so, on escaping from prison, with a desire to prove his innocence, it was not unlikely that he might have called secretly on Basson, and implored his assistance. If so, Basson might know a good deal about the man, if he could only be induced to speak out, and it was to gain his confidence in this matter that Gebb paid him a visit.
"Of course he may know nothing," thought Gebb, as he walked the next day towards Blackstone Lane, in which Mr. Basson--according to Alder--had his abode. "On the other hand, if Dean called on him, which is not unlikely, he may know a good deal. I wish to learn where Dean is hiding; how he manages to live; and what his movements were towards the end of July last. Basson may be able to inform me of these matters If he can, so much the better; if he can't, I'll go down to Kirkstone Hall to search for that confession, and see Miss Wedderburn before she leaves the place. If she can't force Ferris to speak, no one else can; the man is as obstinate as a pig."
With this elegant simile Gebb turned out of Fleet Street into Blackstone Lane, and shortly found himself climbing the narrow staircase of No. 40. Mr. Basson being poor and briefless, and evidently careless of his ease, lived at the very top of the high building. After ascending four flights of steep stairs, the detective came upon a door with the name "Clement Basson" painted on it in black letters. Also there was a dingy scrap of paper, on which was written, "Back in five minutes"; so it seemed, much to Gebb's disappointment, as though Basson were not in his office. However, two or three sharp knocks brought forth a grinning boy in a suit several sizes too small for him, and this lad, having put Gebb through a short examination, with the intention of discovering if he had a bill or a writ, or a judgment summons in his pocket, at length relented, and announced that Mr. Basson was within. Evidently the "Back in five minutes" label was used to beguile creditors into thinking that Mr. Basson was absent. That announcement, and the conversation with the juvenile Cerberus, gave Gebb an immediate insight into the state of Mr. Basson's finances, and his Bohemian mode of hand-to-mouth living.
Shortly he was ushered into a dingy chamber, very barely furnished, and very dirty. There was a yellow blind pulled up askew on an unclean window; below this a deal table covered with green baize, ink-stained and worn-out, which was piled up with dirty papers. An ancient bookcase, with a brass screen, was filled with an array of untidy-looking volumes in calf-skin, with red labels; there were two chairs--one for the lawyer and one for any possible client, a rusty grate, filled with torn-up papers, and an empty Japan coal-scuttle. In the midst of these ruins of prosperity, like Marius amid the remains of Carthage, sat Clement Basson, a tall, jovial-looking man, with a fine head of grey hair, a quick eye, and a neatly trimmed beard and moustache. He was carelessly dressed in a kind of sporting fashion, and wore an old cricketing-cap on the back of his head. The man was clever, kindly, and quick-witted; he was also thriftless, weak-willed, and untidy. His worser qualities weighed down his better; and with many qualifications for climbing to the top of the tree, Mr. Basson preferred, out of sheer idleness and lack of concentration, to dance gaily round the trunk in ragged attire. He looked like a survival of Grub Street; one of the feather-headed crew who wrote pamphlets and starved in garrets, and naturally belong to the reigns of the early Georges. He was quite out of place in the late Victorian epoch--an ironical survival of the unfittest.
"Good day!" he said, in a rich baritone voice, advancing to meet his visitor. "What can I do for you, Mr. Gabb?"
"Gebb, sir; not Gabb," answered the detective, seating himself in the one other chair.
"The boy said Gabb," retorted Basson, returning to his chair. "He was thinking of his own gift, maybe;" and he laughed heartily at his rather feeble joke. "Well, Mr. Gebb, have you brought me a brief?"
"No," said Gebb, smiling, for the man's good humour was infectious. "I'm in a different branch of the law to a solicitor. I don't deal in briefs so much as in handcuffs."
"Ah! You are a detective. A Bow Street Runner."
"Yes. In charge of the Grangebury murder case."
"Just so!" said Basson, with a nod, and looking grave. "I read about it in the papers; and now I remember, your name was mentioned. Well, and have you caught the blackguard who murdered the poor woman?"
"Not yet I've come to see if you can help me."
"I?" said Basson, much amused. "You've come to the wrong shop, then. How should I know the assassin?"
"If I can believe Mr. Alder, you knew him once," was Gebb's reply.
"Ah! So Alder has been speaking to you about me. He thinks that Dean is guilty, and I was Dean's counsel in that Kirkstone case. Is it that you are driving at, Mr. Gebb?"
"It just is. Do you believe that Dean is guilty?"
Basson did not reply immediately. He lighted a German pipe of porcelain, and, blowing out the match, placed it in a little pile which lay near the inkstand. Then he puffed out a cloud of smoke, and through it looked at his visitor.
"Why do you ask me?" he demanded abruptly.
"I want your opinion. I know from Mr. Alder that you did not believe Dean guilty of Kirkstone's murder."
"No. That I did not," rejoined Basson, hastily. "No more than I believe Mr. Ferris--poor boy--guilty of this one. I was coming to tell you that he was at my lecture on the night of the murder, but Alder said he would speak to you about it. Did he?"
Gebb nodded. "I know that Ferris is innocent, but he had the necklace in his possession, and that is a suspicious circumstance."
"I saw about that in the papers," said Basson, nodding. "Well, and how does he say the necklace came into his hands?"
"He declines to tell me."
"Does he? With his neck in the noose, so to speak."
"Precisely, Mr. Basson; he did not even confess his presence at your lecture. He said he was innocent, and for the rest held his tongue."
Basson stared, and pressed the tobacco in the pipe bowl with his little finger. "Now, that's queer," he said. "Why does he act in this way?"
"I think he wishes to shield his father."
"I didn't know he had a father. Thought his father was dead."
"As good as dead, I am afraid. Dean is his father."
"What!" Basson's pipe fell out of his hands, and he looked at Gebb in amazement. "Dean, the man I defended, Ferris's father?"
"Yes, Ferris lived with some relations, who changed his name when his father was condemned. Now, Mr. Basson, I don't believe Dean is guilty of this second murder; but on no other ground than that he did kill the woman, and gave Ferris the necklace to pawn, can I account for the young man's silence."
"Does he say that Dean is guilty?" asked Basson, picking up his pipe.
"No; he denies it, but refuses to confess how he became possessed of the necklace. Mr. Basson, tell me on what grounds you believed that Dean did not kill Kirkstone."
"No motive," rejoined Basson. "People don't commit murders without motives. But a year or two ago I got an anonymous letter, which strengthened my belief in his innocence. Wait a bit, and I'll get it for you."
He opened a small safe standing at the end of the room near the bookcase, and after five minutes' groping in its depths, at length fished out a dingy bit of paper, which he brought back to Gebb. This he spread out on the table, and raised his finger to enforce the attention of the detective.
"Dean declared his innocence to me," said the barrister, with forensic force, "and I believed him. But he thought that Laura Kirkstone was guilty--that in a mad fit she killed her brother. I did not agree with this, for I held then, and I hold still, that Ellen Gilmar stole that knife from Laura, and murdered Kirkstone before she went upstairs to call Dean and inculpate him in the murder. Now, when Dean escaped from prison I received this letter; read it."
Gebb glanced his eye rapidly over the scrap of paper, which contained two lines of writing running thus: "If you see Dean, tell him not to hunt down a wretched woman. When she dies justice shall be done." To this there was no name and no date and no envelope. Gebb inquired after this latter.
"I'm sorry to say I destroyed it by mistake," said Basson, with regret; "but I remember that it had the Norminster postmark on it, therefore I am sure the note came from Miss Gilmar."
"But why should she write to you?" inquired the detective.
"She fancied Dean on escaping might visit me to get my aid to prove his innocence."
"I thought such might be the case myself," said Gebb, thoughtfully, "Did he come near you at any time after his escape?"
"No," said Basson, emphatically, "I never saw him from the time he went into prison. I don't know where he is; I wish I did, as this note shows that Miss Gilmar knows herself to be guilty, and has left some sort of confession behind, to be read after her death and clear Dean."
"Where do you think this confession is to be found?"
"I don't know. She may have hidden it in Kirkstone Hall, or may have had it with her. When I got this note I went at once to the Hall to tax Miss Gilmar with writing it. However, she had fled out of fear of Dean, and I could not learn her whereabouts. The next I heard was her murder at Grangebury under the name of Ligram."
"Do you think Dean' killed her?" asked Gebb, anxiously.
"I don't know. He might have found her and tried to force her into confession, and failing getting her to do so have killed her; but I don't know."
"Well," said Gebb, getting on his legs, "I had an idea myself that there might be a confession concealed in Kirkstone Hall. Now, on the evidence of this note, I am sure of it. I'll go down and search. But tell me frankly, Mr. Basson, do you know where Dean is to be found?"
"No," said Basson, solemnly, "I swear I don't."
"I must rely on myself, then," said Gebb, with a sigh. "I'll see you again, Mr. Basson."
"I shall be glad to help you, sir," replied the barrister, and bowed the detective out of his dingy room.
Gebb retired in an exultant frame of mind, as he had discovered beyond all doubt that a confession by Miss Gilmar was in existence which would probably exonerate Dean from all complicity in Kirkstone's murder. The question was, where to search for it. On his way back to the office Gebb tried vainly to find an answer to this query, but it was banished from his mind when he discovered that no less a person than Miss Wedderburn was waiting to see him. She approached him at once when he entered, and there was a sparkle of rage in her eyes, which intimated that the object of her visit was not a peaceful one.
"Here you are at last, Mr. Gebb!" she said, in a wrathful voice. "And pray, sir, what do you mean by arresting Mr. Ferris?"
"Oh, that's your trouble, is it, miss?" answered Gebb, coolly. "Well, my dear young lady, I arrested Mr. Ferris because he pawned a diamond necklace!"
"And what had that to do with you, may I ask?"
"This much, miss. The necklace was the property of Miss Gilmar, and was removed from her dead body."
"Nothing of the sort!" cried Edith, vehemently. "Ellen was alive when she gave away that necklace."
"Gave away that necklace!" repeated Gebb, starting up. "What do you mean?"
"What I say!" rejoined Miss Wedderburn, tartly, "I gave the necklace to Arthur, and it was Miss Gilmar who presented it to me in Paradise Row, on the night she was murdered."
It took Gebb some time to grasp the meaning of Miss Wedderburn's remarks, for the information it conveyed seemed impossible of belief. He looked so doubtful, that she repeated her speech with some impatience.
"I tell you Miss Gilmar gave me that necklace on the night she was murdered."
"At what hour?" gasped Gebb, not quite master of himself.
"Shortly after nine o'clock."
"Did you see her on that night?"
"Of course I did!" said Edith, sharply. "How else could I have got the necklace?"
"But you told me at Kirkstone Hall that you did not know Miss Gilmar was in Grangebury."
"That is perfectly true," rejoined Edith, colouring; "but I told you many things that were false. I was forced to do so, to protect Arthur and myself."
"So you knew of the murder when I paid my first visit?"
"Yes; and when you inquired after Arthur, I fancied you had discovered his pawning of the necklace, and that you intended to accuse him of the crime. Naturally, I was anxious to save him."
"That was why you fainted," said Gebb, suddenly enlightened.
"It was. In a moment I saw Arthur's danger, as I knew well he would not say that I gave him the necklace; so the thought made me faint. When I learned later that you knew nothing, I held my tongue."
"You did, and to some purpose. I congratulate you on your power of acting, Miss Wedderburn. You deceived me completely."
"What else was I to do?" said Edith, resentfully. "You would not have had me betray myself or Arthur? How did you find out that the necklace was pawned?"
"That I shall explain later," replied Gebb, annoyed by her attitude. "And, in my turn, may I ask why you killed Miss Gilmar?"
Edith stared at him in surprise, and laughed. "You are making a mistake!" she said with haughty coolness. "I did not kill Ellen Gilmar."
"But you were with her on that night?"
"So I was; but I left her at nine o'clock, and then she was alive and well. Why should I kill her?"
"To obtain the necklace."
"What nonsense you talk, Mr. Gebb. She gave me the necklace for Arthur, of her own free will. Even if she had refused to give it to me I should certainly not have murdered her. I love Arthur very much, it is true, but hardly enough to commit so wicked a deed for his sake."
"Do you swear that you are innocent?" asked Gebb, looking at her keenly.
"Yes, I swear I am," she answered, meeting his look with much frankness. "If necessary I can prove my innocence, and that of Arthur."
"Oh, Mr. Alder has proved his innocence already."
"Very kind of him," said Edith, with sarcasm, "for I dare say he was glad enough to hear of Arthur's arrest."
"You do him wrong, Miss Wedderburn. On seeing the case in the paper Mr. Alder came round at once to see me. He stated that Mr. Ferris was present in the Town Hall at Mr. Basson's lecture, and therefore could not have been with Miss Gilmar at ten o'clock, the hour when she was killed. He proved your lover's innocence."
Edith raised her eyebrows and looked surprised. "Why did Mr. Alder do that?" she said, half to herself. "He hates Arthur because----"
"Because he is engaged to you," finished Gebb. "That is a mistake, miss; for Mr. Alder is quite friendly with Mr. Ferris, and bears him no grudge for winning your hand. You may not credit it, but Mr. Alder is a real gentleman."
"The leopard can change his spots, then," said Edith, still puzzled. "I should never have thought that Mr. Alder was so generous. It is very strange," she finished musingly--"very strange indeed."
The detective quite agreed with her. He thought that the whole affair was wonderfully strange, particularly as he was ignorant of how Edith had obtained a valuable necklace from an old miser like Miss Gilmar; and, also, he could not understand her reason for taking it. He quite saw that she had deceived him in order to save herself and Ferris from being accused of the murder, but he was doubtful if she was so innocent of all knowledge concerning the death as she feigned to be. With this idea in his mind he addressed her with some sharpness, and asked her a leading question.
"If you did not kill the woman yourself," said he, "who did?"
"I don't know," answered Edith, candidly. "She was alive when I left her at nine o'clock, and when I saw her death in the paper I was as much surprised as any one."
"You knew, then, that she called herself Miss Ligram at Grangebury?"
"Oh yes, else I would not have known she was the victim. Though, to be sure," added Edith, with a nod, "the description of the Yellow Boudoir would have made me suspect. I spoke falsely for my own ends when I told you that I saw no newspapers at Norminster."
"Well, Miss Wedderburn," said Gebb, after a pause, "I see no reason to doubt your innocence, but I should like to hear your reasons for getting the necklace."
"I'll tell you the whole story, Mr. Gebb. Indeed, I am sorry now that I did not do so when you called to see me; but I was afraid of getting Arthur into trouble, and so held my tongue."
"It was your silence which caused his arrest," said Gebb. "Had you spoken out, he would not have been arrested."
"He could have exculpated himself," protested Edith, earnestly.
"I dare say; but in order to shield you--as I now see--he refused to speak. However, we can talk of these things later, Miss Wedderburn. Tell me your story."
"Certainly; I shall explain fully," said the girl, quickly, "and anything you do not quite understand you can ask me about afterwards. Well, Mr. Gebb, you must know, first of all, that Arthur is the son of Marmaduke Dean, who----"
"I am aware of that fact," interrupted Gebb. "Prain told me."
"Very good," said Edith, composedly. "It makes my task the easier. Yes, he is the son of Dean; and when his father escaped from prison, some years ago, he came down to Kirkstone Hall to see if the poor man had returned there. You know that Dean desired to revenge himself on Miss Gilmar for her share in his condemnation. Well, Arthur thought that his father might have gone to the Hall to punish her; so he came down to warn Miss Gilmar and prevent a second crime, if possible."
"And what did Miss Gilmar do?"
"She was greatly alarmed by the news; and, terrified lest Dean should really come, she went away, as I told you before, and hid herself in London under those several names. It was in this way that I became acquainted with Arthur, and we were very friendly. He used to visit me frequently, and in the end we fell in love with one another."
"As was natural," said Gebb, smiling. "But before you proceed, tell me if Dean ever came to the Hall, as he was expected."
"No," replied Edith, vehemently, "he never did. I don't know where he is."
"Does Ferris know?" asked the detective, eagerly.
"Not he! Neither of us have set eyes on his father. The poor man may be dead for all we know."
"I'm not so sure of that," said Gebb, thinking of the murder. "Go on, please."
"I would not tell you about my engagement," said Edith, who did not relish the smiles of the detective, and therefore spoke with some resentment, "but that it is necessary for the safety of Arthur and myself that I should speak freely. Mr. Ferris"--she adopted this more formal style of mention to keep Gebb in order--"Mr. Ferris came to see me frequently, and confided to me all his troubles. He was greatly in want of money, as his pictures did not sell, and he had no one to help him. I could not, as I had no money, and I was simply earning my living as my cousin's housekeeper at Kirkstone Hall. In July Ar----, that is, Mr. Ferris, was in such distress that I resolved to aid him by obtaining from Miss Gilmar the diamond necklace which had belonged to his father."
"I know," said Gebb, who was listening attentively, "the necklace which Dean gave Laura Kirkstone."
"Yes; it was a family jewel, and Dean gave it to Laura only because she was to be his wife. When she died, it should have been returned to Dean--or, as he was a convict--to his son. Miss Gilmar, however, seized it, and all the rest of Laura's jewels. With the other jewels I had nothing to do, but I was resolved to obtain the necklace for Arthur. Was it not right to do so?"
"Yes," rejoined Gebb, promptly, "the necklace certainly belonged to Mr. Ferris, as his father could not benefit by it. But my wonder is how you got it. From what I have heard of Miss Gilmar, I should have thought the task an impossible one."
"It was difficult to obtain it, but I did so in the end. I told you," said Edith, with some colour, "that I did not know Miss Gilmar was at Grangebury. Well, that was not true; for she wrote to me stating that she was living in Paradise Row under the name of Ligram, and in her letter she asked me about some business. I resolved to visit Grangebury, but as I did not know where it was, I asked Arthur to escort me."
"Did he know of your intention?"
"No; but curiously enough the week I wrote to him he was going down to Grangebury to hear a friend lecture. That was on the twenty-fourth of July; so I came up to town, and went with him on that night."
"To the lecture?"
"Well, not at first. The lecture did not begin until close on nine o'clock, and I wished to see Miss Gilmar; so I sent Arthur in to the Town Hall, and intended to join him when I got the necklace. I then visited Miss Gilmar. She was alone in the house, and admitted me herself. She was much alarmed at seeing me, and still more so when I demanded the necklace."
"I don't wonder at it. Did she refuse to give it up?"
"Yes; although she was wearing it at the time. I told her then that if she did not give it up to me for Arthur, I should search for Dean and tell him where she was. Indeed," added Edith, reflectively, "I am not sure but what I did not say that I knew where Dean was."
"But you did not?" said Gebb, looking at her keenly.
"No, certainly not," she rejoined hastily; "but I said so to frighten Miss Gilmar. She was terrified, and implored me not to take the necklace or tell Dean; but I knew that I was acting rightly, so in the end she gave me the necklace, which I put into my pocket, and left at once."
"About what time?"
"About half-past nine, I think. Miss Gilmar seemed anxious to get me away from the house, and almost pushed me out of the front door, which she locked after me. I then went to the Town Hall; but as Arthur was in one of the front seats, and the lecturer was speaking, I did not wish to create a disturbance by joining him, so I sat down near the door. I had some conversation with the doorkeeper as to where Mr. Ferris was seated; so if you ask him, he'll tell you that I sat near him until the lecture concluded, at half-past ten o'clock. Then Arthur joined me in much alarm, as he thought I had got into trouble. We returned to London, where I gave him the necklace, and told him to pawn it and pay his debts. I slept at the Grosvenor Hotel, near the Victoria Station, and Arthur went back to his rooms in Chelsea. So you see, Mr. Gebb, both he and I are quite innocent."
"It seems so," said the cautious Gebb, not committing himself.
"It is so," insisted Edith, haughtily. "The doorkeeper can tell you that both Mr. Ferris and myself were in the Town Hall before and after ten, and it was about that time Miss Gilmar was murdered."
"Was any one with her when you called?"
"No. I told you she was alone; but there was wine on a small table, and with that, and the way she pushed me out, I was sure she expected some one."
"Did you meet any one in the street going there?"
"Not a soul. I saw no one. Everybody in Grangebury seemed to be at the lecture."
"Did you write and tell Mr. Ferris about my visit to you?"
"Yes, I did; and warned him not to pawn the necklace, as he might be suspected. But it was too late, for he pawned it the day after I gave it to him. But he is innocent, as you see, Mr. Gebb. Surely he will be released."
"When his trial takes place he will," said Gebb. "He would have been let off before if he had told this story to the magistrate."
"Ah!" said Edith, in a low voice, "he held his peace for my sake. Good, brave Arthur! No wonder I love him."
Gebb continued to question and cross-question Edith until he became thoroughly acquainted with the details of her visit to Miss Gilmar at Grangebury. When in full possession of the facts he permitted her to depart, but took the precaution to ask for her London address in case he should require her further evidence. Edith informed him that since leaving Kirkstone Hall she had been staying with an old schoolfellow in Bloomsbury Square, and was likely to remain there for some time, or at all events until she could find a situation.
"I must work, you know, Mr. Gebb," she confessed frankly. "I am very poor."
"Yet had you accepted Mr. Alder you would----"
"Accept Mr. Alder!" interrupted Edith, colouring. "I would sooner sweep the streets than marry any one but Arthur. Mr. Gebb," she added imploringly, "now that you are convinced of his innocence, do get him out of prison."
"I'll do my best," promised the detective. "He will come up for trial in a week or two, but in the mean time if I place the actual facts of the case before the magistrate who committed him, I have no doubt he will be admitted on bail."
"Anything--anything, dear Mr. Gebb, so long as he is set free!"
The detective proved to be as good as his word, and worked zealously in the interest of Ferris. As the forthcoming trial would probably be a mere matter of form, seeing that the later evidence acquitted him, the magistrate readily accepted bail for a small amount, and, to Edith's astonishment, the person who guaranteed it was Mr. Alder. He came forward in the most friendly way to stand security for his rival, and would not even hear of Edith thanking him when Arthur was released through his generosity.
"I knew he was not guilty," said this benefactor to Edith, "and I told Gebb it was a shame keeping an innocent man in prison."
"How can we ever thank you?" said Edith, tearfully.
"There is no need to thank me, Miss Wedderburn. Of course I should like you to marry me; but as Ferris proves to be the lucky man, I can only make the best of my misfortune."
In her own heart Edith could not understand the kindness of Mr. Alder, for up to the present she had always thought him hard-hearted and selfish. Perhaps the succession to the Kirkstone estates had wrought this change, for previous to the death of his cousin the barrister had been in deep water, as Basson frankly told Gebb.
"It's an ill wind that blows nobody any good," said the Bohemian lawyer, "and the wretch who killed that old woman put a power of money into Alder's pocket. He isn't the man to live on nothing; and has rather expensive tastes; so, if he hadn't come in for that property, he'd have been in Queer Street. It's truth I'm telling you." To which latter remark Gebb quite assented, as Alder had rather the worn look of a man who lived hard, and made the most of his life.
"It's a pity Miss Wedderburn doesn't marry him," he observed. "She might keep him in order. He's a ship that needs an anchor, in my opinion."
"Well, well, Mr. Gebb, Ferris is the better man of the two."
"But not the richer. Mr. Alder has offered two hundred pounds reward for the capture of Miss Gilmar's assassin."
"And you intend to earn it, I suppose?" said Basson, smiling.
"If I can; but at present I see no chance of finding the criminal. Upon my word," cried Gebb, in disgust, "against my better judgment I'm beginning to believe that Dean is guilty after all."
"I don't think so; but if that is your idea, why don't you find Dean and tax him with the crime? An interview with him would put the matter beyond all doubt."
"I don't know where to look for him," said Gebb, grumbling. "I think I shall look up Parge about the matter. If any one knows where Dean is to be found, Parge is the man. Yes, I'll see Parge."
"You may see Parge," said Basson, in a tone of contempt, "but it's doubtful if you'll ever see Dean. He has vanished so completely, that I should not be at all surprised to learn that he is dead. If he was alive and in hiding, surely the police would have found him out before now."
"The police only perform miracles in novels," replied Gebb, dryly, and went off to see Parge.
The fat ex-detective received him almost as wrathfully as he had done on the occasion of the previous visit. Gebb had been so busily employed in searching for Miss Gilmar's assassin, that he had foolishly omitted to pay Mr. Parge the attention which that gentleman considered his due; therefore he was greeted by his chief in anything but a friendly way.
"And I don't want to hear any more excuses," said Parge, scowling; "too much time is lost in telling unnecessary lies. Let me know how much further you have got on with the case."
Glad to escape further blame, the detective related all he had discovered in relation to Ferris and Miss Wedderburn. Parge listened attentively, and was gracious enough to signify his approval of Gebb's conduct.
"You have not done badly," he said, with a nod. "Although your discoveries have been due more to good luck than to your own intelligence. If the girl had not confessed about her visit, and her giving of the necklace to Ferris, you would still be in doubt about his innocence."
"No, I wouldn't," protested Gebb. "Before Miss Wedderburn spoke I was quite sure that Ferris was guiltless. Alder's evidence proved that he was at the lecture, at the time the crime was committed."
"It didn't prove how Ferris became possessed of the necklace, however," snapped Parge. "But I don't see that you are much further on than before. Have you examined that doorkeeper as to Miss Wedderburn's presence in the lecture hall on the night and at the hour of the murder?"
"I have not had time, Simon. To-morrow morning I am going down to see him."
"At Grangebury, I suppose?" said Parge. "Will you find the man there?"
"Yes; the doorkeeper is also the caretaker of the hall."
"Then at the same time you had better call on Mrs. Presk. I suppose the goods of Miss Gilmar have been moved by Alder as her heir?"
"Yes! The body was exhumed and has been identified, and now Alder has taken possession of the estates. Prain is attending to all legal matters concerning the will, and, by Alder's direction, he dismantled the Yellow Boudoir. I don't see what I shall gain by seeing Mrs. Presk."
"You can find out if she has discovered anything touching on the first or second murder!"
"I don't quite understand."
"Bah!" cried Parge, angrily. "Can't you understand that a woman would not be left in possession of a dead woman's goods without satisfying her curiosity in some way? I'll bet you, Absalom, that Mrs. Presk has searched in all Miss Gilmar's boxes, and clothes, and papers, to find out what she can about her. Now, it is just possible that Mrs. Presk may have come across that confession you talk about."
"Do you think it exists?" asked Gebb, with some scepticism.
"Yes, I do; that hint in the anonymous letter written to Basson shows that Miss Gilmar had it in her mind to do justice to the man she wronged."
"But you declared that Dean was guilty," said Gebb, recalling his first conversation.
"So I did; it seemed so at the time," rejoined Parge, promptly. "But I have altered my mind; especially since you told me about that letter written by Miss Gilmar to Basson. Either she or Laura Kirkstone killed the man. I don't know which, neither do you; so, for the gratification of our mutual curiosity and the clearance of Dean, you had better find that confession."
"Well, Simon, if that confession is anywhere, it is hidden at Kirkstone Hall."
"It might be," replied Parge, cautiously. "On the other hand, Miss Gilmar might have written it after she fled from the Hall, and have carried it about with her from place to place. If Mrs. Presk has found it, she is just the kind of woman, from your description, to make money over it, by refusing to give it up until she gets her own terms. Call on Mrs. Presk, Absalom, and find out the truth."
"I'll do so," said Gebb, making a mental note of this. "But what about Dean?"
"Well, I believe that Dean is guilty of murdering Miss Gilmar," said Parge, "even if he is innocent of the first crime. He committed the second in order to punish the woman who unjustly condemned him. I am sure he had every cause to wish her ill. She treated him most vindictively."
"It is no use our discussing that matter," said Gebb, tartly. "I believe--on arguments I furnished you with before--that Dean is innocent. You think he is guilty; time and discovery may prove which of us is right. The question now is, where is he to be found?"
"I can't say, Absalom. He escaped from prison in 1893, and we hunted for him high and low, but without success. He vanished as completely as though the earth had swallowed him up. I thought myself he might have gone to Kirkstone Hall to kill Miss Gilmar; and I searched the neighbourhood, but he was nowhere to be found. From that day to this not a word has been heard of him."
"I suppose there is no use hunting for him?"
"It is waste of time, to my mind," retorted Parge, crossly. "You see what Mrs. Presk is doing. Question her; question the servant who---- By the way, what is the servant's name?"
"Matilda Crane; but she knows nothing."
"It's as well to ask her, however," warned Parge. "The people who seem to know least usually know most. Now go away, Absalom, and don't be so long in looking me up again. I'm anxious to get to the bottom of this case."
"You can't be more anxious than I am," replied Gebb, disconsolately.
"At all events, I am more hopeful," rejoined Parge, and dismissed his pupil, who went away with the conviction that the old man was worn out--that he was past work--and that no aid or useful advice could be expected from him. But Gebb still had sufficient reverence for his elder not to hint at these things. Besides, Parge might have turned the tables on him had he been too frank.
The next day he went down to Grangebury, and called at the Town Hall to interview the caretaker. He proved to be a smart ex-soldier, with an observant eye and a good memory, which gifts he made use of on the present occasion for the benefit of Gebb, and also of his own pocket.
"I remember the lady quite well," he said, after some thought. "The young gentleman called himself Mr. Ferris, and told me he was going in, but that a lady, by name Miss Wedderburn, would come afterwards; and he asked me to bring her up to where he was sitting in the front seats. She came in about half-past nine o'clock, but refused to let me take her up to the front, as she did not wish to disturb the lecturer. She sat down near the door, and when the lecture ended the young gentleman joined her, and they went out together."
"Were they in the hall before ten o'clock?" asked Gebb.
"Yes, sir. Before ten and after ten. I saw them both."
This unprejudiced testimony put the matter beyond all doubt So Gebb gave the man a florin, and went away quite convinced that Ferris and Edith were innocent. He next called upon Mrs. Presk, and had an interview with that lady, and with her servant. What the landlady told him may be gathered from a conversation later in the day which Gebb had with Edith.
It was in the afternoon when Miss Wedderburn saw him. She was sitting with Arthur in the drawing-room of Mrs. Barrington at Bloomsbury, and they were anxiously discussing the case of Miss Gilmar's death when Gebb was announced. Neither Edith nor her lover was particularly glad to see the detective, as their associations with him had been anything but pleasant. However, Gebb took black looks and short answers as a portion of the ills incidental to his profession, and conversed with the pair in his most amiable and persuasive fashion.
"I have been down to Grangebury to-day," he said, addressing Edith, "and I saw Mrs. Presk, the landlady of your late cousin. From her I obtained a railway ticket, and it is a piece of evidence of such importance that I have come to you and Mr. Ferris about it."
"A railway ticket!" repeated Edith, looking puzzled. "From what station?"
"The ticket," said Gebb, producing it from his pocket-book, "Is dated the twenty-fourth of July, and is a return portion from London to Norminster!"
"It is not mine, then!" cried Miss Wedderburn. "I did not take a return ticket."
"But you came up on the twenty-fourth of July from Norminster, did you not?"
"Certainly; to see Ellen. But I bought a single ticket, second class."
"Second class," said the detective, looking at the ticket; "this is a third class return. Are you sure it isn't yours?"
"Quite sure" said Edith, decisively. "Why should I deceive you about it?"
"Why, indeed!" said Gebb, ironically, with a hint at her former deception. "Is it yours, Mr. Ferris?"
Arthur shook his head. "No. If I travelled at all it would be third class, I admit. But I did not go to Norminster in the month of July."
"I thought so," said Gebb, with an air of relief. "Then as this ticket belongs to neither of you, some third person must have travelled from Norminster to Grangebury on the twenty-fourth of July. And I believe that person," added Gebb, emphatically, "to be the murderer of Miss Gilmar."
"On what grounds?" cried Edith and Arthur together.
"Because Mrs. Presk found this ticket in the Yellow Boudoir. It must have been dropped there by the assassin."