"But—but—are yousurethere is no mistake?"
"No, Miss Lorne, there is no mistake. It was the General who did the drugging. I found the paper in which the sleeping draught had come from the chemist's in the waste basket in the library; and when I wanted to clench the belief and make it absolutely positive, I tricked the General into confessing that he stood in need of a stimulant after the stress of the night, then invited him to join me in one from the decanters in the dining-room. He knew what was in that liqueur and—he declined. I knew then that there was no mistake about his being the hand that had done the drugging, just as I had known previously that he was the man Lady Clavering had met at the wall door.
"When I rushed past you that time and raced through these grounds, I had no more idea than a child unborn who the man I was pursuing would prove to be. He might have been Harry Raynor; he might have been Lord St. Ulmer. I even said to myself that he might be any male member of this household from the General down; and my one idea was to get to the house and to find which man was missing. I found no one absent! St. Ulmer was in his bedroom; Harry Raynor was sleeping over the table in the dining-room; and as I came clattering down the stairs the General stepped out of the libraryto inquire into the cause of the disturbance. To all intents and purposes he had been in there reading the whole evening long. But it was a significant fact that as he opened the door and came out, I was able to see past him into the room and to discern that the curtains drawn over the swinging window were bellying inward, showing that the opening of the door had started a current of air which could be created only by the window behind them being likewise open.
"That gave me the first suspicion of a clue. I looked at the man himself for further evidence to back it up and, in the first glance, found it. There was black soil on the toes of his house shoes and a smudge of green wall-moss on his shirt cuff! I knew then just what he had done, and how I had failed to overhaul him in that hot race. He had simply ducked down out of sight, lain still in the bushes and allowed me to run past him. For me there was, of course, no other means of entering the house but by the door; for him there was the library window! He waited to give me time to get into the house, then rose, ran across the intervening space and back into the library by means of that window, and had had just about sufficient time to get there when I came rushing down the stairs. You will remember, will you not, that I spoke of those two things: the spot of black and smudge of green? You know now to what I alluded."
"It is wonderful and—yes, it is horrible also!" she said with a faint shudder. "What a day of horrorthis has been! I think the shadow of it will weigh upon me forever."
"Not if I can help it," said Cleek very gently, very tenderly. "And I count very, very much indeed, Miss Lorne, upon the possibility of making you bless it before the whole twenty-four hours of it have been rounded out. Don't you remember what I said to you about my hopes for the clearing of all shadows from the path of Geoff Clavering and Lady Katharine, about the theory of Loisette?"
"Loisette? That is the great French scientist, is it not? The first man who actually did establish a standard rule for the training of the memory and schools for the teaching of his system all over the world?"
"Yes, that is the man. His principle is somewhat akin to that of the principle of homœopathy. 'Like cures like,' says the homœopathist. 'Like produces like,' says Loisette, 'and the similarity of events acting upon the human mind may, by suggestion, produce similar results,' Well, last night Lady Katharine Fordham went through an experience which no living woman is ever likely to forget: the knowledge that hope of happiness is over, and that the man she loves is lost to her beyond all possible recall. This evening, in the ruin over there, she went through an exactly similar experience, and after some few hours of hope, was thrust rudely back into the absolute certainty that a barrier as high as heaven itself had come between Geoff Clavering and her. Istake my hopes upon that, Miss Lorne. I look for Loisette to be vindicated. I look for last night to be repeatedin all particulars, and I am so hopeful of it that I have sent for Geoff Clavering to come here and be a witness to it."
"Sent for Geoff Clavering to come here—here?"
"Yes. At twelve o'clock he will be waiting for me at the lodge gates; and if all goes as I hope and believe that it will go—ah, well, it will be a blessed time for him, for her, for you! As for myself—but that doesn't matter. I shall have but one more thing to accomplish under the roof of this house, and then if the trail leads elsewhere, I'll be off to Malta as fast as steam can take me."
"And that one thing, Mr. Cleek? May I ask what it is?"
"Yes, certainly. It is to discover Lord St. Ulmer's part in this elusive business, and then to be absolutely certain of getting at the man who killed the Count de Louvisan, and at the reason for the crime."
"The reason? The man?" repeated Ailsa in utter bewilderment. "I thought you said just now that you were satisfied regarding that? Why, then, should you speak as if there were a possibility of Lord St. Ulmer being concerned in the murder if you are seemingly so sure that General Raynor did it?"
"General Raynor? Good heavens above, Miss Lorne, get that idea out of your mind! Why, General Raynor is no more guilty of the murder of De Louvisan than you are!"
Ailsa caught her breath with a faint, little, sobbing sigh at this, and even if the moon had not chosen just then to slip out from the screen of the enveloping clouds and throw a dusk of silver over everything, so that he could see her face and the deep look of relief in her uplifted eyes, he still would have known what a load his declaration of the General's innocence had lifted from her mind.
"Oh, I am so glad," she said fervently; "so very, very glad! Do you know, I made sure from the manner in which you spoke that, horrible as it seemed, it must surely be he; that you must certainly have discovered something which left no room for doubt in your own mind; otherwise you would not have told me all these terrible things regarding the forged letter and the drugged drink and his meeting with Lady Clavering at the wall door. And now to know that you do not suspect him, that you are sure it was not he that killed De Louvisan, ah, I can't tell you how glad I am."
"How loyal you are to your friends," he said admiringly. "You needn't assure me of your gladness;I can read it in your voice and face. No, General Raynor is not guilty, although I am very positive that he not only was out last night, but was actually at Gleer Cottage; but I am absolutely certain his was not the hand that killed De Louvisan. I will even go further, and say that it would not surprise me to learn that he was not even present at the time of the killing, though there is, of course, always the possibility, in the light of my theory of the whys and wherefores of the case, that he was."
"You have a theory regarding it, then?"
"Yes. I had a vague one in the beginning that became more pronounced when I heard Lady Clavering speak of 'letters' in her interview with the General at the wall door to-night. She also spoke of Margot, recollect. And I have said from the first that a woman was in it."
"And you think that she—that Margot—did it?"
"Did what—the murder? No, I do not. As a matter of fact, I am beginning to believe that the presence of that crafty female in England, and in this particular neighbourhood at this particular time, may possibly have led me to leap to a conclusion which is a long way from the truth. That she meant to see De Louvisan, and, with the aid of her band, deal pretty harshly with him—give him the 'traitor's spike,' in fact—I feel very nearly positive; but I am now beginning to realize there is a possibility that the scrap of pink gauze may not have come from Margot's dress, and that she may not have been at Gleer Cottagelast night, after all. In other words, that the woman in the case is not Margot."
"Who then? Lady Clavering?"
"Possibly. There is, however, a chance that it is not even she."
All in a moment Ailsa flamed up.
"You are leaving only Kathie," she said with spirit. "And if you were an angel from heaven you could not make me believe it is she. I know you declare that she was at Gleer Cottage last night; that you say Geoff swears he met her there; but even so——"
"Oh, thank you for reminding me of that dear boy," interjected Cleek, whipping out his watch and glancing at it. "If he keeps his promise, as he doubtless will, he'll be at the lodge gates in exactly twelve minutes, Miss Lorne. And there is another 'dear boy' to consider too, my poor Dollops, who's probably waiting at the wall angle for me to explain my change of tactics with regard to the arrest and release of Sir Philip Clavering. Will you pardon me if I rush off and see him for a few minutes? I'll be back here to join you as quickly as I can, and then, if you will honour me, we'll be off together to the lodge gates to meet Geoff Clavering."
He did not wait for her to reply; did not stop to make any comment upon her remarks regarding Lady Katharine. Moving off as briskly as if he were endeavouring to evade that subject, he slipped soundlessly away through the shrubbery and was gone before she could speak. He was absent forsomething like eight or ten minutes; then, as silently and as abruptly as he had left her side he issued from the bushes and returned to it.
"Shall we go to meet Geoff?" he asked; and again scarcely waiting for her to reply, led the way in silence.
It was on the tip of Ailsa's tongue to ask him if, after so often expressing his conviction of Lady Katharine's innocence and admitting to-night that he had changed his opinion with regard to one woman's part in this elusive riddle, he had suddenly changed it regarding her, too, when, without preface of any sort, he looked round at her.
"Rum how we English stick to precedent, isn't it?" he said. "Ever remark how faithfully old footmen cling to their 'calves' and old valets cleave to their little black side-whiskers? And, I say, Miss Lorne! what's the fashion in evening petticoats these days? Coloured ones, I mean. Do they have to match the dress that's worn with them or not?"
"Certainly they don't," said Ailsa, looking round at him in surprise. "Good gracious, Mr. Cleek, whatever in the world are you thinking about?"
"I? Oh, nothing in particular. There we are at the lodge gates at last; and here's our man. Come in, bonny boy, come in."
Geoff came up out of the shadow of the two big trees at the entrance and moved swiftly toward the gates.
"Wait a bit," went on Cleek. "I've got a skeletonkey handy, and in two shakes of a ram's tail——Told you so! In with you, my lad. Miss Lorne's here with me; and if Loisette wasn't a dreamer and I'm not a fool, you'll be the happiest chap in England to-night. Sh-h-h! don't speak. Walk on your toes, take to the grass, keep in the shadow of the hedge, and get over there to that shrubbery as quickly and as noiselessly as you can. With you in a minute, my boy."
He was. Stopping just long enough to relock the gates and to motion Ailsa to accompany him, he travelled like a fleet-moving shadow across the lawn, and was again with Geoff Clavering.
"Well, here I am as you requested, you see, Mr. Barch," said Geoff. "I don't know what in the world you meant when you told me that thing over the telephone; but whatever it is that's going to make Kathie and me as happy as you promised, I'm ready enough to hear it, God knows."
"Yes, God does know; you're right there, my boy. He knows that Lady Katharine did call you into Gleer Cottage last night, and did send you into the room where that dead man's body hung; and—oh, yes, she did, Miss Lorne. He'll tell you that just as he told me; won't you, Clavering, eh?"
"Yes," said Geoff, and did forthwith, giving all the details just as he had given them to Cleek hours earlier in the General's famous ruin.
"Will you believe now, Miss Lorne?" said Cleek, and then paused and gave a little, shaky, half-suppressedlaugh. For, of a sudden, a cuckoo's note had risen softly over the stillness, sounding thrice in rapid succession, as if the bird had mistaken the moon's glamour for the sheen of day dawn, and had sent forth this untimely call.
Hearing it, Cleek knew that what he had so fervently hoped might come to pass reallyhadcome to pass, and that the theory of Loisette was about to be vindicated.
"Or, if you will not," he said, taking up the sentence just where the bird note had broken off, "come with me and find proof of it for yourself. Come quickly. Hold your breath. Walk on your toes. Don't make a sound on your lives. This way. Quickly. Come."
He took them each by the hand and, leading the way, passed on tiptoe with them out of the shrubbery and down the hedged path to the mimic ruin. The figure of Dollops rose out of the shadow of it as they came upon the place, moved fleetly and quietly to Cleek's side, and then as quietly slipped round behind him into the shade of the trees.
"All right, gov'ner," he whispered softly. "Over to the left there. Give you the signal the minute I spotted her. Lie low, all of you. Here she comes!"
"Here who comes?" Ailsa and Geoff spoke in concert.
"Lord, I dunno, miss," replied Dollops in a whisper. "Gov'ner said, 'Look sharp for a lady in white,and "cuckoo" when she appears.' Dunno no more than that."
Ailsa flashed round and looked at Cleek.
"Yes, Miss Lorne," he said, answering that look. "Lady Katharine Fordham! She did steal out of the house last night, and— Loisette is right. The mirror of to-night, reflecting the counterpart of yesterday, is duplicating events. Her ladyship is stealing out of the house again, and on the selfsame mission: to visit Gleer Cottage. She will certainly wear a cloak, though not an ermine one, to-night. I looked out to see that one was placed in the anteroom, to make sure of that. Quiet, quiet, all of you! Not a sound, not a breath! Look sharp! You'll see her presently!"
They saw her even then. Of a sudden a footstep sounded, the rustle of moved leaves disturbed the stillness, then the figure of Lady Katharine rounded the angle of the ruin, and advanced toward them with great deliberation. A long dark cloak covered her almost to the feet, the hood of it being drawn up over her head until its loose frill framed her face; but it was easy to see, as she advanced, that under that cloak she wore a gown of white satin and slippers with sparkling buckles on the toes. She came into view so suddenly, and was walking so rapidly, that she was upon them almost as they saw her, walking straight to them, walking straight by them, within touch of them, yet seeming not to care or even to notice, and taking the path which led to the stable gate, to the waste land beyond, and thence to Gleer Cottage.It was then, when she had deliberately walked past them, then, and then only, that Ailsa understood.
"Dear God!" she said in a shaking whisper as she plucked at Cleek's sleeve. "She does not know, she does not understand. She is asleep, Mr. Cleek!"
"Yes," he made answer. "You know now why she looked so haggard and weary this morning, despite her assurance that she had slept well. Poor little woman; poor unhappy little woman! A sleep-walker, Clavering—and going back where her heart leads her: to the cottage where she had often spent those happier days when she was so sure of love and of you!"
Geoff did not reply; he could not. As if the sight of that slow-moving figure, linked with the realization which had now come upon him, had wrought a curious numbing effect upon mind and heart alike, he simply stood there, breathing hard, and looked, and looked, and looked, but said no single word. Even Dollops could see that there was a glint of something wet and shining in the crease beside his eye, and that, in spite of tears, he smiled as a man might smile if he had waked to find that all the world was his. It was Ailsa that made the first sound, spoke the first word.
"Oh, Mr. Cleek, to think that she should be a somnambulist," she said with a little catch in her voice, as if she were laughing and sobbing at the same time and fighting hard to do neither. "And to think that you should have guessed it when even I, her dearest and closest friend, never suspected it for an instant."
"Oh, as for that, Miss Lorne, I really deserve very little credit indeed," he made answer.
For a moment he followed with his eyes the departing figure of Lady Katharine as it moved fleetlyalong the path to the stable quarters, where stood the stile giving access to the paddock and thence, by a far-away wall door, to the waste land of the open country beyond.
"If anybody is to be praised for the discovery of the truth as manifested to-night," he went on presently, "that praise should go to Loisette alone. He has said—that wise Frenchman—that 'the likeness of events acting upon a highly strung and overwrought mind is likely to produce exactly similar results.' There is his vindication before you. Last night all hope of happiness was smitten out of that poor girl's mind by the affair at Clavering Close and the certainty that she had lost the man she loves forever. This morning new hope came; this evening that new hope was dashed to earth again by her interview with this dear boy, and the future looked blacker and more hopeless than ever. The 'likeness of events' had come; there is the 'likeness of result' before you. Back into her ball dress, back into her cloak, back into everything that had to do with that other time; there she goes now back to Gleer Cottage as well!"
"God!" said Geoff, with a queer sort of sob; then leaned his curved arm against a tree trunk and hid his face in the crook of it. "And to think what I said to her, what I thought of her! I ought to be kicked for a brute. And yet I wouldn't have hurt her for all the world—my dear, dear girl!"
"Buck up, my boy, buck up!" said Cleek, patting him on the shoulder, "The world can do with allthe brutes of your kind that can be created; for they make good sons, good husbands, and loyal gentlemen! She said, did she not, that she would 'show you something that would light the way back to the land of happiness'? Well, she's doing it, my boy; and if you were to follow her this minute you'd find history repeating itself down to the smallest detail. Only, youmustn'tfollow her; you mustn't let history repeat itself, Clavering. Gleer Cottage is not in the same lonely and unwatched state to-night that it was in last night. The police are there. They mustn't see what happens, because I've a fancy for keeping some things with regard to this case off the annals of Scotland Yard and out of the courts of England. You must stop her, you and Miss Lorne."
"Stop her? How? Isn't it dangerous to wake a sleep-walker?"
"Yes, if it's done rudely. But people in that condition will answer questions, and—— Who spoke first, when you met last night?"
"Why, I did, of course. I was so bowled over when I looked up and recognized her that I said: 'Kathie! Great Scott, is it you?' before I thought. That's how she came to speak to me."
"Then go and say it again," advised Cleek. "When she answers, suggest to her that you sit down and wait for a moment, as you promised you would do, until Miss Lorne could join you. Once she sits, be sure the desire to walk will pass away; she will gradually sink into the natural position for sleepingand will sleep soundly for a time. As for the rest, you may rely upon the coldness and the hardness of the earth to half arouse her, and it will be but a step from that to complete wakefulness if Miss Lorne begins to sing very, very softly and to rustle the leaves as she comes up and joins you both. Now then, off with you, my boy, and move as softly as you can until you come up with her and speak."
Geoff did not hesitate. He only paused to look back at Cleek and say: "By Jove, you know, you are a ripping chap!" and then was off on tiptoe after Lady Katharine.
Watching, they saw him come up with her at last, and knew when he spoke by the manner in which she stopped and looked round at him; they saw her put a finger to her lips and nod and beckon, and knew when he spoke again and suggested the things that Cleek had advised, by the listless manner in which she let her hands drop, the wavering uncertain way in which she stood swaying and looking straight before her.
Then, after a moment or two—they could have cheered had they dared—they saw her look round in the direction of a little knoll to which Geoff pointed and then placidly turn and walk with him toward it.
"Oh, what a dear, dear friend you are!" said Ailsa, impulsively, as she looked round and up at Cleek, with tears in her eyes and a face all smiling. "I wonder which is your greater side—your shrewdness or your humanity?"
"I can tell you which is my weaker one," he smiled,looking down upon her with eyes that spoke to hers. "And maybe, some day if you will let me do so——But that's another story, as our friend Mr. Kipling puts it. Wait! Don't go yet, Miss Lorne. Before you start to join them and to play your little part in the drama of Lady Katharine's awaking, there's one more favour to be asked. Afterward you will understand why I ask this thing; for the present I want only your promise that you will unquestioningly obey. Will you give me that promise? Thank you, I felt sure that you would.
"You know the old saying: a bird that can sing and won't sing must be made to sing. Equally, then, a door that can be opened and will not open by persuasion or by threats, must be compelled to open by trickery and craft. I am going to commit an act of violence under the roof of Wuthering Grange to-night, Miss Lorne. I'm going to do a thing that men get sent to prison for, and justly, too, if they are found out; only that I am not going to carry my act into full completion: merely make a bluff at it, as it were.
"Meanwhile I want you to promise me that as soon as you have awakened Lady Katharine and have made her understand that she did go to Gleer Cottage last night and really has been walking in her sleep, you will find a pretext—you and Geoff Clavering, between you—to get her as far from the neighbourhood as possible for the next two or three hours. Yes, Clavering Close will do. Any place will do so that neither she nor he is within hailing distance ofthis house when my 'act of violence' is committed. Try to do this if possible, Miss Lorne; more than you dream of hinges upon it. In any case, promise me that no matter what excitement is created you will not venture near the house and will prevail upon them not to do so either. Will you?"
"Yes, certainly I will. And if I tell Geoff that it is your wish, I'm sure I may promise for him as well."
"Thank you. That's all. Now I'll be off about my business. You see"—nodding in the direction of the paddock—"Geoff has persuaded her to sit. Good luck to your little 'singing tour,' and God bless you. Good-bye. This way, Dollops! Move sharp!"
Speaking, he swung off into the darkness, with the boy following close upon his heels, and forged on in the direction of the wall angle, there to wait until his instructions were acted upon and it was time for him to play his last great card.
And lo, as they went, a sweet, soft voice rose in murmuring melody behind them and they could just distinguish the words, "Kathleen Mavourneen, the gray dawn is breaking," so softly Ailsa sang them as she passed on in the direction of the paddock stile.
"A good, true woman that, Dollops," said Cleek, pausing to listen. "And there's nothing better in heaven or out of it than a good woman, my lad. Always remember that."
"Yes, sir," said Dollops softly and refraining from further comment.
Cleek laughed to himself as they took the angle path again. "I know the secret of the universe at last, my lad," he said softly. "The way to heaven is through a good woman's eyes!" Then he laughed again, and spoke no more until they were at their journey's end.
"Now, then, my embryo Vidocq," he began, halting in the shadow of the wall angle and laying a gentle hand on Dollops's shoulder, "a word or two with you. I think you told me earlier in the evening that Mr. Narkom had gone back to town, did you not? Did he say if he'd be returning to Wimbledon to-night or not? I fancy he will be likely to, considering his interest in the Claverings, but did he say he would?"
"Yes, sir. Said he'd be back somewheres between nine and ten, sir; that he'd drop in at the police station, and if there was a need for him, he said I'd find him there."
"Right you are! Well, thereisa need for him, Dollops; for him and for the limousine, too. So off with you, my boy, and tell him to be here, at this spot, as quickly as he can; and to be ready when I call for him. Now then," said Cleek, opening the wall door, "off with you as fast as you can travel."
For some minutes Cleek stood in deep thought, then he turned and walked quickly back into the house. He had made up his mind to beard Lord St. Ulmer in his room, and his quick brain was intent on a plan by which he should secure an entry. Threeminutes later he stood outside the door and placed a bunch of extinguished matches at the foot of it, while he called softly but piercingly.
"Lord St. Ulmer! Quick!Quick!Fire!The place is on fire."
His heart pounded as he waited, for if the man were asleep his efforts would be fruitless. Suddenly, however, there came a faint sound to his straining ears, and again he whispered in that sibilant whisper:
"Lord St. Ulmer,fire!"
He did not have time to repeat it, for there came the sound as of an extremely agile man leaping from his bed, and another moment he heard the snick of an unfastened lock, then the door opened.
Cleek waited not a second, his foot was in the narrow aperture, and he was through the door and had switched on the light before the other man had realized what had happened. Then he gave vent to a little low laugh of triumph as with his back against the closed door he surveyed the white-faced man who had retreated to the middle of the room.
"Good evening! Citizen Paul, good brother Apache, so it is you, is it?" he said airily. "Let us have a quiet little understanding,mon ami. You need not be distressed. There is no fire. It is merely a bluff. What! You do not know me. But wait! Look!" The serene face writhed suddenly, and it was as if another man took his place. "Ever see a chap that looked like this, friend Paul, eh?"
"God! The Cracksman!"
"The identical party!" acknowledged Cleek blandly. "Come! I want to have a few minutes' talk with you, my friend, and—— Stop! Don't back away! Stop and face me. By God! you'll hang for last night's business if you don't!"
It was one o'clock when Mr. Maverick Narkom, pacing uneasily up and down the narrow strip of turf just outside the boundary wall of Wuthering Grange, saw the door at the wall angle flash open and shut again, and without so much as a murmur of sound looked up to find Cleek standing within a few paces of him.
"My dear fellow! Gad, I never was so glad to see anybody in all my days," exclaimed the superintendent, swooping down on him in a little whirlwind of excitement. "Cinnamon! You'll never guess what's happened, Cleek, never! After all my instructions, those blundering idiots of local police were too late to catch Margot and her crew at Wimbledon, the house where young Raynor visited, as you wrote me. I went down myself directly Dollops brought me your note, but it was too late, the police had frightened her in some way——"
"It does not matter," said Cleek calmly. "I have come to the end of the riddle."
"The end?" gasped Mr. Narkom. "The end! Man alive, tell me who——"
"Patience, my friend; perhaps I ought not to havesaid that yet, some few things remain to be discovered, but the first thing to do is to carry out the murderer's message before it is too late, or the letters get into the wrong hands."
"Whose letters?" exclaimed Mr. Narkom, naturally bewildered.
"The woman who lured Count de Louvisan, though that is not his name, to his death, Lady Clavering——"
"Lady Clav—— Heavens, man, what possible motive could she have?"
"We shall see, my friend, if my ideas are right. Call up Lennard and the limousine and let us go down to the cottage. With one more thread in my hand, and then to-night will see the knot unravelled."
With this Mr. Narkom was fain to be content, and once in the car, the few minutes that elapsed before they reached Gleer Cottage were passed in silence. At the gate, when the limousine drew up, Cleek aroused himself from his reverie.
"Mr. Narkom, get the constables stationed on duty near that room out of the way. Put them outside somewhere where they won't be able to see or hear what goes on at the back of the house. Then make an excuse of having to examine the body in reference to some new evidence that's just cropped up. I'll join you there in one minute."
Mr. Narkom gave a nod of comprehension and vanished up the path, leaving his great ally to carry out his plans in his own inimitable fashion.
That was the last the superintendent saw of him until full twenty minutes later when, with his customary soundlessness, he came up out of the gloom of the neglected garden, entered the rear door of the cottage, and joined him in the room where the body of the dead man still hung, spiked to the wall, with knees bent, head lolling, and the lantern in Narkom's hand splashing a grotesque shadow of him on the side of the chimney breast.
Cleek walked over to that ghastly human crucifix and regarded the dead man bitterly, his lips puckered, and his whole expression one of unspeakable contempt.
"So it has come to this at last, has it, De Morcerf?" he said, half audibly. "Well, was it worth the price, do you think? Peace to you, or, at least, such peace as you deserve. You've paid your scot and passed out eternally. As for the rest—— Mr. Narkom!"
"Yes, old chap?"
"I noticed last night, when I was down on my knees following the trail of theHuile Violette, that there was a section of the flooring which has evidently been raised lately, as it was fastened down with new nails. Locate the place for me—it's over their somewhere—and stand there while I do a little measuring and counting."
Narkom moved over in the direction indicated, searched about for a time with a magnifying glass, and finally announced the discovery of the place he had been set to look for.
"Good heavens above, old chap, how you notice things! Fancy your remarking that when you were looking for something totally different! I say what on earth are you doing?"
"Measuring," replied Cleek, stepping off the distance between the spot where the body hung and that where Narkom knelt. "Three feet, one yard; three yards—— No, that won't do. 'Nine feet from the body' doesn't work out, so it's not that. Nine paces are impossible—room's too short—and nine boards—— Hum-m-m! That's poorer than the rest—doesn't go half the way. Clearly then, if my theory is correct, it'snotthe body that's the starting point. How about the mantelpiece then? Let's have a try. Nine feet? No go! Nine boards, then? Oh, piffle! that's worse than ever. It leads off in a totally different direction. But stop a bit! These boards run up and down the room, not across it; and as it is undoubted that the measurement goes to the left, why, two and four make six. Hum-m-m! Six feet from the corner of the mantelpiece to——Hullo! that brings me exactly opposite to where you stand, doesn't it? And counting the board between us runs to—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine! Exactly nine boards across the room! Got it, by Jupiter! Three paces from the body bring one to the mantelpiece. And paces are usually designated in a diagram by X's. And nine boards across the room does the trick! Letters, she said, letters! That was the first clue. Letters that mightfall into Margot's hands; and as that dead wretch was Margot's ally once upon a time, and might threaten to give the things over to her if his demands were not acceded to—— Victoria! He will have hidden them there, unless I'm the biggest kind of an ass, and can no longer put two and two together!"
Speaking, he moved rapidly across the room to the spot where Narkom stood, knelt, and in five minutes' time had the board up. Under it there lay something tied up in an old white silk handkerchief; and when the knots of that were unfastened three thick packets of yellow, time-discoloured letters, tied up with old neckties and frayed silken shoelaces, tumbled out upon the floor. One and all were addressed to "M. Anatole de Villon," and were written in a woman's hand.
Cleek snapped the binding of the first bundle, looked at the signature appended to the letters, and then passed them over to Narkom.
"There is the answer to the riddle," he said. "Poor soul—poor, poor unhappy soul! Under God, she shall suffer no more from this night on! And he would have sold her—sold her for money had he lived."
Narkom made no reply in words. He simply glanced at the signature attached to the first letter, then sucked in his breath with a sort of shuddering sigh, and grew very, very still.
"Let's get out!" said Cleek in a sharp, biting voice. "I can't breathe in the presence of that dead beastany longer. 'Who breaks pays!' Yes, by God, he does!"
He turned and got out of the room, out of the house, and forged back through the darkness toward the spot where the limousine waited.
Halfway up the lane Narkom overtook him.
"Cleek, dear chap," he said, plucking him by the sleeve, "in the name of heaven, what is to be done now? The man is my friend. He believes in her; he loves her; and on my soul I believe that she loves him. Dear old chap, isn't there something better and nobler than human justice, something higher than the laws of man?"
"Yes," said Cleek, "a great deal higher. There's God and there's humanity. The woman has paid and paid and paid, as erring women must always do; but if I can help it, she shall pay no longer. I tell you I will compound a felony that her secret may be kept."
"And I'll assist you in it, old chap; I'll compound it with you!" said Narkom with quiet impressiveness. "Not because the man is my friend, Cleek, but because—oh, well, because the woman is awoman!"
"And they have a hard road to travel at best," supplemented Cleek. "So let's give a sorely tried one a lift and a bit of sunlight on the long, dark way! You see how it came about, do you not? She made the appointment with him to meet her at Gleer Cottage because it was a lonely as well as a convenientspot. I dare say that when he learned the character of the place it struck him as being a safe one in which to hide the letters in case of any attempt being made to steal them from him. When he set out earlier than the appointed hour for that purpose, the—well,the other partywas on the watch and saw where they were put, yet didn't have an opportunity to remove them at once, so marked the clue down in that particular manner on the dead man's bosom, in order to tell Margot that she had been avenged and the letters hidden. I will tell you the story presently, but first let us get back to General Raynor."
"Raynor!" ejaculated Mr. Narkom, "Surely it was not he who——"
"Committed the murder," finished Cleek. "No, luckily for him, he found it already committed. No, it is these letters that he wanted. Here we are at the limousine at last, thank fortune. The Grange, Lennard, as fast as you can make it, my lad."
Lennard got there in record time, depositing them at the gates in something less than a quarter of an hour later. And here Dollops, who was patiently waiting in the shadow of the wall, rose to meet them as they alighted.
"Gawd's truth, gov'ner, is it you at last? I've been nigh off my biscuit wonderin' wot 'ad become of you, sir," he began as he approached; and would probably have said more but that Cleek interrupted him.
"No time for talking now, Dollops," said he."We are at the end of the trail and even moments count. Into the limousine with you, my lad, and let Lennard drive you over to Clavering Close. Ask for Miss Lorne when you get there, and give her this message. Say that she and Lady Katharine are to stop where they are until I come for them in person. Understand?"
"Yes, sir. And when I've done that, wot next, if you please?"
"Go home and go to bed; that's all. Good-night. Cut along!"
The boy and the limousine were gone like a flash.
"Come along, Mr. Narkom. Let us go and pay our respects to the General," said Cleek; then he pushed open the gates and passed into the grounds, with the agitated superintendent trotting along by his side.
In the closed and curtained library General Raynor paced up and down, silent, anxious, alone, his nerves raw, his face haggard, his eyes brightening with expectancy every time a breeze shook or bellied the draperies hanging over the open window, but dimming again when they sagged back into position without anything coming of their disturbance.
"Waiting, you see," said Cleek in a whisper as he and Narkom emerged from the screen of the trees, and saw the chink of light made by the wind-blown curtains, and the shadow which moved back and forth and momentarily blotted it. "Poor old chap! He must be suffering torments. Come on! Step lightly! Make no noise until we are at the window's ledge. This is the end of his waiting at last!"
Evidently the General was of that opinion, also, when, a few moments later, he heard a footstep on the gravel, and, halting to listen and to make sure, heard that footstep come on and up the terrace steps. With a quick intaking of the breath and a whispered, "Is it you? Is it you at last?" he moved fleetly to the window, twitched aside the curtains, and let the guarded light streak outward into the night.
It fell full upon two men—Cleek and Narkom—standing within an arm's reach of the indrawn sashes and the divided drapery.
A flash of sudden pallor, followed quickly by an angry flush, passed over the General's face as he saw and recognized Cleek.
"Really, Mr. Barch, this is carrying your little pleasantries too far," he rapped out in a voice that had a little tremble in it. "Will you allow me to say that we are not accustomed to guests who get up and prowl about the place at all hours of the night, and turn up suddenly at half-past one in the morning with uninvited acquaintances."
"Quite so," said Cleek, "but the law is no respecter of any man's convenience, General."
"The law? The law?" The General's sudden fright was pitiful. He dropped back a step under the shock of the thing, and all the colour drained out of his lips and cheeks. "What utter absurdity! What have I to do with the law? What have you, Mr. Barch?"
"Cleek, if you want the truth of it, General—Cleek of the Forty Faces, Cleek of Scotland Yard. It's time to lay aside the mask of 'Philip Barch' forever."
"Cleek? Cleek?" The General's cry was scarcely more than a shrill whisper. "God! You that man? You? And all the time you have been here in my house. Oh, my God! is this the end?"
"Yes, I fear it is, General," said Cleek in reply, ashe stepped past him and moved into the room. "If you dance to the devil's music in your youth, my friend, be sure he will come round with the hat in the days of your age! Last night one of the follies of your youth came to its inevitable end: last night a man was murdered who—— Stop! Doors won't lead a man out of his retribution. Come away from that one. The gentleman who is with me, General, is Mr. Maverick Narkom, superintendent of Scotland Yard. Isn't that enough to show you how impossible it is to evade what is to be? Besides, why should you want to get out of the room? It's not your life that's in danger, it's your honour; and there's no need to make any attempt to prevent either your wife or your son learning that when both are deep in the drugged sleep to which you sent them."
"My God!" The General collapsed into a chair.
"That's right," said Cleek. "Sit down to it, General, for it is likely to be a strength-sapping time. I've something to say to you; and Mr. Narkom has still something to hear. But first, for the sake of emergencies, and to have things handy if required, allow me to take a certain precaution."
As he spoke he moved over to the window, and switched the curtains over them.
"General," he said, facing about again, "the laws of society, the laws which prevail in civilized communities, are pretty rotten things. If a woman errs in her youth she pays for it all her whole life long—insorrow, in tears, in never-ceasing disgrace. If the same law prevailed for both sexes, and men had to pay for the sins of their youth as women must for theirs, how many of them think you would be out of sackcloth to-day? Atonement is for the man, never for the woman. For Eve, youth must stand always as a time of purity, unspotted by a single sin. For Adam, it stands only as a time of folly that may be brushed aside and of sin that may be outlived. Probably you were no worse in the days of your youth, General, than ninety-nine men out of every hundred, but——" He gave his shoulders a shrug, and broke off.
But of a sudden he reached round and took a packet of letters from the tail pockets of his evening coat, and threw them to the stricken man.
"Carry those things to Lady Clavering and let her burn them with her own hands," he said. "They are letters which caused last night's crime—the letters of Mademoiselle Marise de Morcerf, a pretty school-girl, who wrote them in all innocence to Lieutenant Raynor out there in Malta, all those years ago. They were stolen by the man who was christened under the name of Anatole de Vellon, and died under that of Count Franz de Louvisan."
The General plucked up the letters with a wild sort of eagerness and sat forward in his chair, breathing hard.
"You know then, you know?" he said, in a shaking voice, the pallor on his face deepening until hewas absolutely ghastly. "Is there, then, no keeping anything from you, that you are able to unearth secrets such as this—things that no one but our two wretched selves knew in all the world? And you know how that man, that De Louvisan, had blackmailed her?"
"Yes, General, I know. But the source of my knowledge is by no means so miraculous as you seem to fancy. It came in part from those letters and in part from your guest, Lord St. Ulmer."
"St. Ulmer? St. Ulmer? What can he know of this? He is in no way concerned. He is little better than a stranger to me, despite his relationship to my wife."
"Nevertheless, he knows more than you fancy, General. He, too, was a visitor to Gleer Cottage last night. And he went, as you went, my friend, determined to be rid of the danger of Count Franz de Louvisan's tongue, even if he had to descend to crime to do it."
"St. Ulmer! St. Ulmer!" repeated the General with an air of bewilderment. "Why should he? What reason could he have for dreading the man?"
"A very good one, as you will see when I explain to you that St. Ulmer, as you call him, has no more right to the title than I myself!"
"An impostor!" gasped both the General and Mr. Narkom with one voice.
"Yes, an impostor," said Cleek quietly. "I recognized him directly I was able to get face to facewith him. He was known as Paul the Panther, though Paul Berton is his name, an Apache, a boon companion of Margot, the queen of the Apaches, and of Anatole de Villon, a cousin of the greatest scoundrel in Paris. This man Paul had been valet to the real Lord St. Ulmer, probably engaged in Paris, and went with him to the Argentine. With him also Paul took the effects and credentials of another Apache, Ferdinand Lovetski, the maker of that special blacking, 'Jetanola.' He had been killed for refusing to give up to the Apaches his little fortune, and accordingly, Anatole annexed it without the permission of Margot, and hence brought down on him her wrath. He managed to slip away with his master, and whether he had any hand in killing him in the Argentine, heaven alone knows. What is certain is that he decided to return to Europe and finally to England as Lord St. Ulmer, and in this he succeeded. The old solicitor had died. Both you and your wife had seen but little of St. Ulmer in later years, so that, armed with all the papers and his own quick wits, it was not so difficult as you would have imagined. Had it not been for the stray meeting with Anatole de Villon, who was himself masquerading here as the Count de Louvisan, all would have gone well. As it was, one rogue threatened the other, and De Louvisan held the trump cards. It was his plan to marry Lady Katharine, and St. Ulmer had to submit, for fear not only that he should be betrayed to the police as an impostor, but in caseAnatole should give him up to Margot. He played on Lady Katharine's feelings, therefore, so as to make her give up young Clavering and marry the count. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, at the last minute De Louvisan quarrelled with him; he had some other plans, he said, connected with letters——"
"Good heavens! I see now," gasped the General. "De Louvisan played a double game. Those letters were mine. He had contrived to steal them from me in Malta. There is really no harm in them, but Marise—Lady Clavering—and I, had fancied ourselves in love many years ago, and she was afraid, needlessly perhaps, that Sir Philip Clavering, who is the very soul of honour himself, would disown her and cut the friendship between him and myself. We had each found our true mates, and it was an unutterable shock to both to find that this wretch had threatened to inform Sir Philip, or else hand over the letters to Margot to publish at her will. I nearly went mad when Marise told me that she was going to meet him. I think I went off my head for a few minutes; at any rate, I did one of those unaccountable things for which people who have mental lapses are noted. It was after bedtime, long after, when the message arrived, and struck all my thoughts into a bewildering sort of chaos. I remember hanging up the receiver and turning to the door, but from that moment there is a blank until I found myself standing before the dressing mirror in my own room,not in the act of disrobing, as I ought properly to have been doing at that hour and in that place, but dressing myself as if for dinner! I think you are aware of the fact that I use black cosmetic on my moustache, Mr. Cleek? When that mental lapse passed and I came to myself, there I was with my hair freshly combed and in the very act of applying the cosmetic to my moustache. I don't know how I got into the room or when—everything is a blank to me.
"A not unusual thing under the circumstances, General. These sudden shocks produce effects of that sort frequently. You were not really accountable, not really aware of what you did, or why—that, I suppose, is the explanation of how, when you came to think of going to the cottage and facing the man, you ran out of the house with the stick of cosmetic still in your hand. You did, did you not?"
"Yes, although I was not aware of it until I arrived at the place."
"Hum-m-m! So I imagined. And the A-string? How did you come to take that?"
"The A-string, Mr. Cleek?"
"Yes, the bit of catgut. Shall I be out in my reckoning, General, if I say that as you crept out of the house something fell either on your head or your hands, something which proved to be a long thick piece of catgut, and that, without realizing what you were doing, or why, you carried that, too, with you?"
"Good heavens, how do you know these things?Nobody, nobody on God's earth could have told you that, Mr. Cleek, for no living soul was there. But that is exactly what did happen. When I got into the cottage and found Lady Clavering——"
"With a pink gauze petticoat under a pale green satin dress?"
"Yes. When I got there and found her in conversation with that wretch, why, those two things—the cosmetic and the catgut—were still in my hand. I had no use for them, of course, and as soon as I realized that I was holding them I threw them aside."
"So I supposed," said Cleek. "And the assassin found them there, although hemighthave had one of the articles upon his person; not likely, but hemight, for he, too, uses it."
"The assassin?" The General looked at him sharply. "You know that, too? Who is he? What was his motive? Why did he spike that body to the wall?"
"We will come to that in good time, General," replied Cleek. "For the present let us stick toyourconnection with the case, please. After you had given your promise to Lady Clavering not to return to Gleer Cottage, why, may I ask, did you break it and go back?"
"I have told you in a measure, Mr. Cleek. I went back to make one last effort to move the man to pity. He must have been making use of the time for some purpose of his own, not counting upon my coming back, for as I returned to the house I caughtthe distant sound of a hammer being used, and he was savagely out of temper when he saw me. Springing at me like a wild animal, he cried out: 'Spying, were you? Damn you, I'll brain you before you can give away what you saw. She shan't get shut of me that way; nor shall you!' I ducked down under the sweep of the blow he aimed at me, so that it whizzed past my head and the impetus of it carried him half round; then, as he wheeled and gathered himself for a second stroke, I half straightened and came at him with an upper cut that landed squarely on the peak of his jaw and carried him off his feet. He went up and over, and the back of his head landed against the edge of the mantelpiece and stunned him. He dropped like a log. I thought for the instant I had killed him, but a moment's examination convinced me that he was only stunned; indeed, was already showing signs of reviving; and I should certainly have stopped to see the matter out but that I was sure I heard somebody moving in the garden, so as quickly as I could, I got out and flew for dear life. I saw nobody and I heard nobody all the way back to this house, and you can guess my surprise when this morning brought news of the tragedy. I should have said to myself that I had killed the man had he been found as I left him; but when I not only heard, but went and saw for myself, that he had been found nailed to the wall and marked with mysterious figures, I knew that some one else had slain him; and life has been a nightmare of terror and suspense ever since."
"I can well believe it," said Cleek. "You have paid dearly for all your follies, General. But that is to be expected, for it is written, my friend, that he who breaksmustpay. The laws of God are no more fixed in that respect than are the laws of man; and I, as the instrument of those man-made laws——" He shrugged his shoulders, and threw out both hands with a sweeping and expressive movement. "Murder has been done," he went on. "The law demands a life for a life, and my duty to the law is to hang the murderer of that man, even though the victim may have merited death twenty times over and the world be well rid of him. General"—he swung suddenly away from the chair against which he had all the time been leaning with his back to it and his face toward the room—"General, the law demands of the man-hunter that he shall be a thing of iron, cold, passionless, inflexible, a mere machine for the carrying out of its mandates, the probing of its riddles, the fulfilment of its retribution. It allows him to possess no private sentiments, to make no hero of a murderer, even though his crime be in the interest of others, and of itself brings good out of evil."
The General looked up at him, awed and silent. A strange and terrible impressiveness was in Cleek's voice.
"General," he went on after a brief pause, "the bringing to justice of the Count de Louvisan's murderer must inevitably entail the exposure of Lady Clavering's secret and yours. That I wouldspare both you and her, if I could. The anguish you two have suffered I would let be the only thing that comes out of this crime if it were mine to say; but I am the instrument of the law, and I must obey its dictates. I cannot shield the assassin, and I cannot shield you or her ladyship if this case has to be brought up before the courts. General, I know the murderer and I know the motive. It was a great one, that I grant you; and the carrying of it out was one of craft and cunning.
"As you have guessed, it was Paul Berton, alias St. Ulmer, who committed both crimes; the killing of the keeper and De Louvisan. As you said just now, Anatole had been playing a double game, and he had threatened to throw over Lady Katharine and reveal the truth of the impostorship to Margot, thus earning his forgiveness from her for the stealing of that other property, and if possible marrying her and sharing her rule. St. Ulmer came to the cottage in those few minutes before you and Lady Clavering put in an appearance. He saw afterward what you did not see—namely, what De Louvisan did in those few minutes you were absent. He saw, too, that length of catgut which you dropped, and when you rushed out, leaving the man unconscious, Paul Berton, or St. Ulmer, flashed into the room, caught that up and strangled the fellow where he lay. He spiked him to the wall with the very hammer the hound had assailed you with, and he would have accomplished all he had set out to do but for an accident. DeLouvisan, or Anatole, had taken up a board and hidden the letters beneath the floor. Paul had seen him do it and meant to get them. But the noise he had made, he fancied, had attracted the attention of either a constable or a Common keeper, for he heard the sound of some one stealing through the garden. That was Lady Katharine Fordham walking in her sleep, poor girl. He had no time to lose, so caught up the stick of cosmetic you had dropped, and scrawled those figures on the dead man's shirt——"
"Their meaning, Cleek?" cried Narkom. "What was it?"
"A very simple one. Part of the Apache cipher. I remembered it afterward, and translated it thus:
"2 X 4 X 1 X 2. Hiding X letters X Paul X Hiding
"You see he meant that if Margot should arrive on the scene, she should know that it was he, Paul, who had avenged the gang and hidden the letters. By this he meant to win his own pardon from Margot. As it happened, she had already taken fright and left the country. The numbers counted to nine, and I reckoned that Paul, noting this fact, must have trusted to luck to Margot being sharp enough to take it as a measurement of some kind. I took it to be nine boards, and was right, as you know.
"He would probably have gone back for the letters afterward, but he had no time; he fled across the Common, headlong into the arms of the Commonkeeper, whom he shot at and knocked senseless, making use of the man's clothing, as we know. These he buried later in the old ruin, and there you will find them, General."
An exclamation burst from the lips of General Raynor, followed by the sound of something more startling, that of a pistol shot.
"God! What was that!" the General breathed in a frightened whisper at the sound of the explosion.
"The end of De Louvisan's murderer, General, I hope, and the everlasting shutting of the door on Lady Clavering's secret and yours," said Cleek. "Come quickly, before the servants arrive on the scene."
He led the way out of the room, and up the stairs to where was Lord St. Ulmer's room. Cleek opened the door with the key which had evidently reposed in his own pocket. A strange sight met their eyes. It was evident that St. Ulmer, or Paul Berton, had been left handcuffed and bound by ropes to the bedpost, but he had managed to evade his bondage sufficiently to get to a drawer in which must have been a loaded revolver, and he had thus set himself free.
"Let the dead past bury its dead," said Cleek quietly. "The world need only know that one impostor killed another, and finally shot himself when the law discovered the truth."
He bent down and swiftly removed the handcuffs from the still figure, and the General gave vent to a deep sigh of relief just as the startled servants came flocking up the staircase.
The riddle of the night had been solved, and their secret lay buried in the grave.
It was an hour afterward. In the seclusion of the General's study, he and Narkom and Cleek sat talking over the events of the night.
"You must not accord me too much honour, General," said Cleek. "For after all I did not ferret out the entire truth until I came face to face with Paul Berton, who told me the facts, under force, it is true. It was, as I have already explained, he who killed the poor Common keeper when that unfortunate man interrupted his headlong dash for freedom. Then, General, borrowing a leaf from the book of a certain person known as the 'Vanishing Cracksman,' with whom he had had some dealings in other days, he leaped upon the unfortunate man, beat him to the ground, and hastily robbed him of his uniform. You know the rest: the assassin's blows were perhaps harder than he had intended, and so another life was added to the list. I confess I was puzzled at first by Lady Katharine's part in the affair and the ermine cloak, as I knew there were at least two women on the Common that night. But I managed to look into Mrs. Raynor's room in one of my rambles, and there I saw an ermine cloak soiled at the edges. The maid told me, unconscious of doing either harm or good, that she had just fetched it from Lady Katharine's room, as she had borrowed it a couple of days ago. I had already made up my mind afteroverhearing a certain interview between the lovers, that Lady Katharine must have acquired the habit of walking in her sleep, and so that part of the mystery was made clear. But I am afraid I have given you an unpleasant time, General, and I have had to spy about a good deal. However, I think we may agree with the immortal Shakespeare that after all, 'All's well that ends well.'"
He turned and put out his hand suddenly, and the General, with a little choking sound, put his own into it and breathed hard. There was a curious misty something lurking in his eyes.
Cleek smiled.
"Good-night!" he said softly, "and good-bye. Mr. Narkom and I will motor back to town, and perhaps on our way will make a point of calling at Clavering Close and break the news to Lady Katharine of her erstwhile father's death. She cannot grieve deeply, poor girl, for that which she has never known—a father's devotion, or a father's love; but it will end her suspense. Good-night, General, once more."
He waited a brief moment, and their eyes met in a look of perfect understanding; then with a nod to Narkom, who was standing in the background watching them, he spun on his heel and went out into the night whose riddle he had solved, leaving behind him that which is above all earthly things: a perfect peace and a still greater gratitude.