Society generally had plenty to talk about in the way of scandal next morning, when it became known that Spencer Anstruther had been arrested in connection with the burglary of the City and Provincial Bank. The only paper giving anything like the account of the arrest, naturally, was thePlanet,which paper vaguely hinted at further disclosures in the early future. Jack read the account over the breakfast table, and smiled as he recognized the hand of Rigby in all this. He would see Rigby presently, and ascertain exactly what had taken place last night at the Great Metropolitan Hotel. First of all, he had to see Lady Barmouth, who had already heard something of the news. She listened with vivid interest to all that Jack had to say, then announced her intention of going to Panton Square at once.
"I shall bring my sister and Claire here," she said . "They shall stay as long as they please. As to my sister and her boy, I shall be delighted to have them. I presume there will be some sort of proceedings against Anstruther this morning?"
To the great disappointment of the public, when Anstruther came to be charged at Bow Street the evidence was purely formal. The prisoner had elected not to be represented by a lawyer, and, with a view of expediting the proceedings, had formally pleaded guilty to the charge, and asked to be committed to the Central Criminal Court, which took place a week from now. "Clever chap that," Bates said, as he and Rigby, together with Jack, turned into Covent Garden. "Pretty cool, too. He wants to save time, of course, and get the thing over before we can complete our chain of evidence. But I fancy that by the end of a week we shall be able to produce all the witnesses we want."
"I expect so," Rigby said. "By the way, don't forget about that service of plate. Seymour says it ought to be conveyed to Scotland Yard and the photographs taken at once. I have a letter from Seymour in my pocket in which he asks me to go round and see Sir Frederick Ormond, induce that gentleman to take the sealed crystal ball to your headquarters, and to see that the seal is not broken, except in the presence of one of your leading officials. Then you can get both sets of photographs done at once."
Bates had his hands full for the next few hours. Then, towards four o'clock, he made his way to Carrington's flat. Under plea of indisposition, the latter had not been out for a day or so; but, as a matter of fact, Bates had given him a pretty broad hint to keep clear of the bank premises, and to consider himself more or less as a prisoner on parole. Carrington's knees knocked together, and his face turned deadly pale as Bates came into the room.
"So you have come again," he stammered. "I hope, perhaps, that--don't say I am your prisoner."
"I am afraid that's what it comes to," Bates said. "We can't let you off altogether, you know. But you help us, and give us all the information in your power, and I'll do my best to get you let off as lightly as possible. It makes all the difference between two years' imprisonment and seven years' penal servitude."
"Am I to come with you now?" Carrington managed to stammer out. "Is there no such thing as bail?"
Bates shook his head. Carrington would have to pass the night, and doubtless a good many succeeding nights, in the police cells; but, first of all, they were going as far as the bank. Bates explained that there was no reason, for the present, why Carrington should stand confessed as a prisoner. The bank officials need know nothing whatever about it. What Carrington had to do now was to hand over the service of Cellini plate at present locked up in his private safe. The detective gave his promise that the plate in question should be restored to its proper owner in due course, though he refused to gratify Carrington's curiosity as to why he had specially selected this particular art treasure.
An hour later the Cellini plate was safe in Bow Street, together with the crystal globe; and before the week was out both articles had undergone some mysterious process of photography, not altogether unconnected with sheets of glass. Meanwhile, Anstruther was preparing his defense as best he could, and Carrington had been twice remanded on a charge of fraudulently dealing with the property of his clients. The two cases excited the greatest interest, and on the following Monday morning the Central Criminal Court was packed with society people eager to hear the charges against Spencer Anstruther.
Anstruther stood there, quite calm and collected, with just the touch of a cynical smile on his lips. He looked round the court as if in search of acquaintances, but no one responded. Many people whom he knew quite well affected to look over his head. But cool and deliberate as he was, Anstruther had all his work cut out to keep his feelings in control when the barrister who represented the Crown proceeded to call witnesses. The name of Seymour resounded down the corridor, and a tall man with his face muffled up and a slouch hat on his head stepped into the box. He bowed gravely to the judge, and apologized for wearing his hat. A moment later his hat and coat slipped away, and he turned his face half defiantly to the light. There was an instant's breathless pause, then a veritable shout of astonishment, as the Nostalgo of the posters stood face to face with those whose curiosity had been so deeply touched during the past four months.
"My name is Seymour," he said quietly, as if quite unconscious of the tremendous sensation his appearance had excited. "I have known the prisoner for some years. Before I unfortunately made his acquaintance, I was not the human wreck you see now, but a man like my fellows. But I need not go into that. What I propose to do now is to tell the story of the burglary at the City and Provincial Bank.
"Previous to my visit to Mexico, I occupied with Mr. Carrington the rooms which are now his. I have in my pocket a latch-key which opens the front door. It matters little now why I wanted to make a search of Mr. Carrington's rooms, but I did make that search, and I was hidden in the conservatory behind the smoking-room with Mr. John Masefield on the night that the prisoner and Carrington planned the sham burglary at the bank. The whole scheme was revealed to us, and I shall be prepared to tell the jury presently what steps I took to see the so-called burglary carried out. It is sufficient for the present to say that it was carried out, and that I witnessed the whole proceedings in the company of Mr. Masefield and a journalist on the staff of thePlanet,Mr. Rigby by name.
"I should like, at this point, to call the attention of the jury to what we saw when the bank strong room was forced. So far as valuables are concerned, the safe was practically empty, save for a service of Cellini silver plate. Other witnesses beside myself will tell you that the prisoner claimed that plate as a reward for the ingenious way in which he had plotted to preserve Carrington's reputation. When I heard this, a sudden inspiration came to me. With a piece of greasy rag I hastily smeared the surface of the set of plate. I will come to my reason for doing that presently. When the whole affair had been finished, the prisoner was half minded to take the service of plate back with him at once to his house in Panton Square. But Carrington dissuaded him from this on the grounds of prudence. Therefore the prisoner carried the plate up-stairs and deposited it in Carrington's private safe. There it remained for a day or two, pending some way of conveying it to Panton Square.
"But in the meanwhile something happened which aroused the prisoner's suspicions. He made up his mind that he would himself remove the plate from Carrington's safe by means of another burglary. Carrington refused to have anything to do with this, but the prisoner got his own way by the simple expedient of stealing Carrington's keys. The prisoner is more or less intimately acquainted with some of the cleverest thieves and housebreakers in London. There was no time to call in an honest expert to open Carrington's safe, but the prisoner was equal to the occasion. He called upon a well-known housebreaker who passes by the name of 'Simple Charlie.' I know this, because for some time I have been watching the man in the dock. I have my own reasons for keeping quiet and living in an out-of-the-way place, and I have a set of rooms fitted up in what is more or less a common lodging house.
"By good fortune the man known as 'Simple Charlie' had rooms in the same block of buildings. When the prisoner called upon him the housebreaker was out, so that a note was left for him. This note I managed to get hold of and read. Together with a friend of mine named Ferris, we laid a little plot for 'Simple Charlie.' We compelled him to find a substitute who would operate upon the safe, and that substitute was no other than Inspector Bates, as doubtless he will tell you later on."
It must be clearly understood that Seymour did not stand in the box and reel off his evidence in the glib way of one who is making a speech for the prosecution. On the contrary, the fascinating evidence he gave was in reply to questions asked by the representative of the Crown, occasionally supplemented by a query or two from the judge. All this time Anstruther stood in the dock, his face knitted in an ugly frown. Despite his easy air, his confidence was fast deserting him. Any other man would have been crushed and broken by the deadly weight of a testimony like that of Seymour's. In his heart of hearts Anstruther was sick and frightened. Never for a moment had he dreamed of anything like this. Seymour stood before him without a trace of expression on his scarred, repulsive face. And yet every word he uttered was as another month on the long sentence he was already anticipating.
Anstruther came out of a dream presently, and realized with a start that Seymour's deadly revelations were still going on. A moment later, and the Crown Counsel suggested that Seymour should stand down for a moment, and that Bates should take his place. The detective came into the box alert and smiling. He told how he had impersonated the mythical Maggs, and how he had accompanied Anstruther to the City and Provincial Bank.
"At this point I should like to ask you a few questions," said Counsel for the Crown. "I understand that you have become possessed of the service of silver plate to which the last witness has already alluded. He spoke just now of some device of his whereby the service of plate was smeared with grease as it lay on the floor of the vault, and before it was conveyed to Carrington's safe. Now, has this any important bearing on the case?"
"I think you will find that it has an exceedingly important bearing on the case," Bates said. "You will remember, sir, that Mr. Seymour made a special request that the plate should be carefully photographed. You will remember, also, that the prisoner himself carried the plate to the safe and deposited it inside. We have had the plate carefully photographed, with a view to identification by means of finger marks. That is what we call a part of the Bertillon system. But, perhaps, I had better explain."
Bates's explanation was carefully followed by an almost breathless audience. Bates held up a sheet of glass in his hand.
"I have here," he said, "a photograph taken from a silver cigar case. It is the considerably enlarged impression of finger prints left on the cigar case by a burglar who was scared away before he could secure his booty. By comparison of this impression from the cigar case side by side with one of the other permanent prints at Scotland Yard we were enabled to identify and convict the thief."
"Quite so," the barrister said. "The jury follows you. Is it your intention to prove that on the Cellini plate marks have been found corresponding with the lines on the prisoner's hand?"
"This is preposterous," Anstruther cried. "It is nothing less than a vile conspiracy. I defy the police to be able to prove that the marks of my fingers are on the plate. And even if there was more resemblance discovered it would be out of the question for the police to compare them with any impression of my own."
"You are doing no good to your case," the judge interposed. "You will have plenty of opportunity to ask questions later on."
"With the permission of the jury I shall prove that," Bates said. "Before I proceed any further, may I ask your lordship if you will have Sir Frederick Ormond called? Sir Frederick will recollect the night of Lady Barmouth's dance, when one of the guests, disguised as a magician, gave him a sealed packet to take care of. When that packet came to be unsealed and photographed by our experts, we had no difficulty in discovering----"
A deep groan broke from Anstruther's lips.
"By Heaven!" he cried. "I had forgotten the crystal!"
Anstruther's denunciation of himself rang out loud and clear, so that it was heard to the uttermost parts of the court. Nothing could have condemned him more than that speaking cry; there was wanted no witness more damning than his white face and staring eyes. In sooth, he had quite forgotten the crystal globe. It all came back to him now, and he saw vividly and clearly the semi-comedy which had been enacted at Lady Barmouth's dance by himself and the so-called magician. To a man of Anstruther's capabilities, the idea that he had walked headlong into a trap laid for him was maddening. He had devised so many cunning schemes for the lowering of others into confessions of crime, that it was all the more galling to find himself hoist with his own petard.
It was in vain that he strove to recover the ground he had lost. He could see a grim smile on the face of the judge, and even the suggestion of amusement in the jury box. He seemed as if about to burst into passionate protest, then placed his hands upon his lips, and maintained instead a stolid silence.
"Perhaps I had better make a little explanation here," Counsel for the Prosecution said. "A great deal turns on the matter of this crystal ball. The witness Seymour has already explained to the court the story of the Cellini plate up to a certain point. That story we shall substantiate presently by calling the witnesses Masefield and Rigby. Your lordship will understand that Lady Barmouth's now historic dance took place subsequent to the robbery at the City and Provincial Bank. The witness Seymour has already told you that he overheard the whole conspiracy between the prisoner and Carrington, by means of which the public would have been deluded into believing that a great robbery had taken place. The witness Seymour has also informed you that he had meant to be present when this bogus burglary took place--an event that subsequently happened. It was only when the Cellini plate lay outside the bank strong room that the most ingenious idea occurred to Seymour.
"He has told us how, by means of a greasy rag, he smeared over the service of plate, which was subsequently placed by Anstruther's own hand in Carrington's safe. Beyond all question, the imprints of Anstruther's fingers must have remained on the plate; indeed, we shall prove this beyond question before long. By way of making the thing absolutely certain, it was necessary to get a proper impression of Anstruther's hands. Hence the comedy of the magician--a little comedy which shall be explained later--which character was quite easily carried out at a fancy dance like Lady Barmouth's. I am aware, my lord, that my proceeding is a little irregular, but I want to clear the thing up as I go along. If the prisoner has any objection, I will, of course, conduct my case----"
"The prisoner has no objection whatever," Anstruther growled. "I say the whole thing is a conspiracy, and a rascally one at that."
"The proceedings are somewhat irregular," the judge interposed, "but seeing that the prisoner declines to be legally represented----"
Anstruther shrugged his shoulders, and the Prosecuting Counsel went on. He had little more to say on the present head. He now proposed to call Sir Frederick Ormond.
The popular young statesman stepped into the witness-box with a jaunty air, and a smile which suggested amusement; in fact, he seemed to regard the whole thing in the light of a very good joke.
"I want you, Sir Frederick," the Crown lawyer went on, "to tell us exactly what happened in regard to this magician business at Lady Barmouth's house the other night."
"Really, there is very little to tell you," Ormond smiled. "I regarded it as all part of the fun. I was sitting close to the table occupied by the prisoner and the mysterious magician; in fact, I regarded the whole thing as a pure piece of comedy got up between those gentlemen to amuse the guests."
"You had no notion of the magician's name, then?" the lawyer asked. "You were not taken into the secret?"
"Oh, dear no. It seemed to me to be a very clever piece of acting. I must confess I was just a little impressed when the crystal was placed in the box, after being firmly held by the prisoner for a few moments. The magician asked for the box to be sealed, which was done, and the thing subsequently passed into my possession."
"Stop one moment," Anstruther cried. "That box was sealed up and taken away by you. Nobody else touched it?"
The witness explained that nobody handled the box besides himself until Inspector Bates fetched it away under an authority from Scotland Yard. Sir Frederick went on to explain that he had been present when the seal of the box was broken.
"Nobody could tamper with it during the time you had it, I suppose?" Anstruther asked. "You kept it under lock and key?"
"The whole time," the witness cried. "You must understand that I am quite used to keeping valuable documents and that kind of thing. I took that box straight ho me, and locked it securely away in a drawer in my safe, where it remained until the police fetched it."
Asked if he had any further questions to put, Anstruther sullenly declined. He still harped upon the string that this was a criminal conspiracy got up against him by the police, and insinuated that the mysterious magician was nothing else than a detective smuggled into Lady Barmouth's house for the purpose of trapping him.
"I think it would be as well, my lord, to sweep away this impression at once," the Crown Counsel exclaimed. "I propose to put the magician in the box without delay."
Anstruther stared open-mouthed as Seymour once more came forward. The prisoner's quick intellect saw the whole scheme quite clearly now. Pressed as he was, and in danger as he was, he had just a touch of a grim smile of approval. It was a trap entirely after his own heart. Yet his eyes held a menace as they met those of Seymour. The latter returned the gaze. There was a merciless gleam in his own pupils as he faced the jury box.
"Here we have the mysterious magician," the Crown Counsel explained. "Perhaps you will tell us how you came to think of this thing. A mere outline will do."
"It came to me when I was watching those men in the vaults of the bank," Seymour explained in his deep, ringing voice. "I am very much interested in crime and criminals, and more than interested in the prisoner at the bar. I cannot forget--I shall never forget--the fact that, but for him, I should be as other men. To be revenged on him, and to expose one of the greatest scoundrels the world has ever seen, I came back to England. I found the prisoner a popular figure in society. I discovered that my task would be no easy one. I had, moreover, to be careful--my face is one that it is not easy to disguise. From the very first good fortune was on my side. I made one discovery after another--all tending to the discredit of the prisoner at the bar. I have already explained to the court how I became in a position to overhear the conspiracy that led to the robbery of the bank. Other witnesses will tell you in greater detail what happened that night at the bank. It was only when I heard the prisoner coolly arranging to appropriate that magnificent service of plate that my idea occurred to me. I was going to prove that the plate had been through Anstruther's hands. Of course, I am quite familiar with the Bertillon system, and here was a chance of putting it into practice. I hastily smeared the silver with grease, in order that the marks should be all the more distinct."
"What does all this acting lead to?" Anstruther cried.
"I am just coming to that," Seymour said quietly. "I knew that when the plate came to be photographed by the police, the finger prints would show quite clearly on the glass slide. It is necessary to have a corresponding set of prints, hence my idea of the magician and the crystal ball. As a matter of fact, Lord Barmouth is a great friend of mine; indeed, we have suffered a lot at the hands of the prisoner. It was, therefore, not difficult for me to procure an invitation to Lady Barmouth's dance, which I attended in the dress of a magician. I was the magician. I arranged the plan myself, and I obtained the impression of those finger tips, which will show presently, when they are compared with those taken from the set of Cellini plate. I have nothing more to say for the present."
Anstruther intimated that he had no questions to ask the witness. He had come into court prepared to take advantage of anything in his favor, trusting to his intelligence and audacity to pull him through. But not for a moment had he guessed how strong a case the police had piled up against him. Not that he gave the police any credit for the business at all. He could see quite clearly that they would have done nothing without the aid of Seymour. Had the latter not taken in hand the matter, the police would never have discovered his connection with the bogus burglary; and, however much Carrington might subsequently have suffered, the main rogue in the play would have gone off scot free.
It was a dramatic story that Seymour had told the court, and every word that he had said was followed with the most rapt attention. The sensation of seeing Nostalgo in the flesh would have been enough for most people, but when one of the most mysterious personages that had ever excited the attention of London stood up like this, the central figure of a great crime, the excitement was multiplied a hundredfold.
There was a pause here, and the lawyer of the Crown looked significantly at Bates. The latter rose, and produced a cardboard box and something that looked like an exaggerated camera. There was a breathless pause, for everybody was on the tiptoe of expectation. Even the judge leaned forward eagerly, wondering what was going to happen next.
"We are going to prove the identification of the finger marks," the lawyer explained. "For this purpose we shall have to darken the court, and throw the photographs on a large sheet which has been pinned to the wall at the back of the building. I trust your lordship will have no objection to this course."
The judge was understood to say that he objected to nothing calculated to further the ends of justice. The fashionable audience thrilled. Society settled down to the knowledge that it was going to have a new sensation. Ladies ceased the rustling of their fans, and the whispering and giggling stopped, for here was a drama far more realistic and terrible than anything ever seen upon the stage. A man's future literally hung upon the fair white cloth suspended from the wall at the end of the court.
The lights went out one by one, until there was nothing left but the pallid flame of the lantern lamp, which faintly picked out the eager eyes and parted lips of the excited spectators. Then the lamp vanished, and almost immediately a brilliant disc of light was thrown on the white sheet. In the long lane of flame the little motes of dust and fluff danced and flickered. Here and there, as a hand or an arm went up from those at the back of the lantern, ghostly accusing shadows seemed to flit. Out of the darkness the voice of the Crown Counsel came with a startling suddenness.
"In the first instance," he said, "we propose to throw on the screen the magnified photograph of certain finger impressions taken from the Cellini plate. These photographs were made at Scotland Yard, and developed by the expert who is now assisting us in this matter. Here, my lord, and gentlemen of the jury, is the first of the magnified photographs."
The great white shining disc disappeared as if by magic for a moment, and then upon it there stood out a wonderful reproduction of the right and left palms and finger tips of a human hand. Magnified so largely, every line and scar and little filament could be seen. It was as if some painstaking engraver had worked up the whole thing under a powerful microscope.
"There we have the impression of the prisoner's hands as taken from the Cellini plate," the lawyer went on. "If we are wrong, it is for the prisoner to prove it. But to make matters absolutely certain, the next plate will show the same finger prints as taken from the crystal ball. We know from the highest authority that the crystal ball was last in the hands of the prisoner."
The photograph vanished, the great white disc shone out again, and once more it was obscured by an almost precisely similar photograph. It would have been an expert, indeed, who could have found out any dissimilarity between the two pictures.
"And now, to make matters doubly sure," the lawyer said, "we propose to reproduce the two photographs superimposed one on the top of the other."
Another exciting moment followed, a pause of almost painful interest; and then the two slides were placed in the lantern at once. They stood out on the sheet, just a shade misty and indistinct, like a badly printed picture; but the veriest novice there could see at once for himself that they were the same hands. As suddenly as it had vanished the lights flashed up again, and every eye was turned upon Anstruther's white and rigid face.
"My lord," he said, in a hoarse, strained voice, "with yourermission, I should like it adjourned until to-morrow."
It was quite evident that the strong man was breaking down under the strain of these damning proofs. He would, apparently, have said more if he could, but his lips were dry, and the back of his throat appeared to have turned to ashes. With a shaking hand he lifted the glass of water which had been placed on a little ledge before him, and drank it down eagerly.
"What object do you expect to gain by this course?" the judge asked. "If you have any witnesses to call----"
Anstruther intimated that he had. The eager audience appeared to be disappointed. It was as if they had just witnessed the first act of a powerful drama which had ended abruptly owing to some unforeseen circumstance. Still, the prisoner was likely to have his own way over this, seeing that he was undefended by counsel; indeed, it was only fair that no obstacle should be put in his way.
"Very well, then," the judge said briefly. "The case is adjourned till ten o'clock to-morrow morning."
Five minutes later the court was deserted, and another judge was listening to some prosaic case of no importance whatever. Seymour had made his way rapidly out of court, followed by a curious crowd. He was quite calm and collected, though he had taken the precaution to hide his features as much as possible. Jack and Rigby caught him just at the moment that he was entering his cab.
"Where are you going to?" the latter said. "I have got a thousand questions to ask you. Don't run away like this."
"I wasn't going anywhere in particular," Seymour explained. "I have nothing to do but to kill time. It seems to me that I have very little more to do in the way of ridding the world of Mr. Spencer Anstruther. Call it unchristian if you like, but there is a feeling deep in my heart that I shall be able to rest in future without the wild desire of always being at that fellow's throat. I don't think they will want me to-morrow morning."
"What do you suppose Anstruther is up to?" Jack asked.
"Suicide," said Seymour curtly. "I know that man far better than either of you. And if this verdict goes against him to-morrow--as assuredly it will--he will find some way of putting an end to his life."
Jack look significantly at Rigby, who nodded.
"Come round to my rooms," he suggested, "and let us talk this matter over. And now that you have once appeared in public, and now that you have once told part of your story in the witness-box, you might, at least, disclose the rest of it to two sympathetic friends like ourselves."
Just for a moment Seymour seemed to hesitate.
"Very well," he said. "If you don't get it from me you will from Lord Barmouth. If it had not been for Ferris and your discovery of him at the Great Metropolitan Hotel, nothing would have induced me to say a word. But I have more than a hope now that before long I shall stand before the world a changed man, and be able to take my place amongst my fellow creatures without being the subject of vulgar and idle curiosity. I will tell you everything when we get as far as your rooms."
It was over a whiskey and soda and a cigar that Seymour proceeded to tell his story. Both Jack and Rigby had heard the best part of it before. They knew all about the Mexican tribe and the dangers of the gold belt, but the cream of the mystery to them was the way in which a man of ordinary appearance could be transformed into so repulsive an object.
"The whole thing," said Seymour, as he approached the most fascinating part of his narrative, "was the way in which those people revenged themselves upon outsiders who had the temerity to invade the region of the gold belt. Mind you, they were a powerful tribe, and in some remote age or other had evidently been highly civilized. At the time Ferris and Barmouth and myself had the misfortune to find ourselves prisoners in their hands, they were absolutely eaten up with priestcraft. As I think I told you before, the most powerful man in the tribe was not a native at all, but an Englishman. You will not be surprised to hear that the Englishman's name was Anstruther. I did not know then as I know now what that man had gone through to learn the secret of where the great masses of gold were hidden. Interrupting my narrative for a moment--have either of you ever noticed a faint resemblance between Anstruther and any other Nostalgo like myself?"
"I have," Jack cried. "Especially in moments of passion."
"That I can quite easily understand," Seymour went on. "When Anstruther first fell into the hands of those people he was served in exactly the same way as I was served myself; in other words, one of those diabolically clever surgeons in the tribe turned him into a Nostalgo. Don't ask me how it is done; don't ask me to explain how the muscles are cut and knotted and twisted so as to give one the hideous deformity of face which is my curse at present. But Anstruther carried the same intolerable burden in his day. Why he was retained amongst the tribe; why he was not sent out into the world as an example to others, is not for me to say. Perhaps he made himself useful, for he is a clever man. Perhaps they had need of his services. At any rate, the devilish surgeon who could make a man look like a hideous demon fully understood the art of restoring a face to its normal aspect."
"But Ferris has discovered a surgeon who can do that," Jack explained. "He has already told us so."
"It is on Ferris's little Frenchman that I mainly rely," Seymour said. "Otherwise, I should fade out of this business, and you would see me no more."
"There is one thing I cannot understand," Rigby put in. "Why did Anstruther cause all those posters to be placed on the principal hoardings of London?"
"Because Ferris had escaped him," Seymour explained. "You see, he wanted Ferris very badly. He could blackmail him, and hoped to go on doing so with impunity. But Ferris gave his tormentor the slip, and placed himself in the hands of that clever French surgeon. Once the cure was complete, Ferris could have passed Anstruther in the street without the least fear of being recognized. He had only to change his name, and the thing was done."
"But I don't quite understand yet," Jack said.
"Well, you see, Ferris is a very sensitive man, and cursed with a lively imagination. That was where Anstruther's wonderful intellect came in. He had lost his man, and was determined to find him once more. Hence those accusing posters, that were destined to meet Ferris's eye at every turn, and so play upon his nerves that he would be glad to give himself up, and make the best terms he could. It was just the sort of scheme to appeal to Anstruther, and I am quite sure that if Ferris had not met his friend the surgeon, the plan would have been brilliantly successful. And now, if you don't mind, I should like to go as far as the Great Metropolitan Hotel and talk this matter over with Ferris. I am not in the least likely to be called to-morrow; indeed, it seems to me that I have finished my task so far as Anstruther is concerned. This being so, the sooner I place myself in the hands of the French surgeon the better. My word! If you men could only understand the life I have led the past three years!"
Seymour turned away, and hid his face for a moment. The other two could respect and understand his feelings, for a long pause followed. When Seymour paused again, he was more calm and collected. He pitched his cigar into the fireplace, and suggested calling a cab and going off to the Great Metropolitan Hotel at once. Ferris appeared only too glad to see them; indeed, he was much better and more cheerful than he had been a night or two ago, when Fate had so strangely brought Jack and himself together. Most of the plaster had been removed from his face by this time, and, so far as his visitors could see, there were only the faintest traces that the knife had been used to remove the terrible brand of the Nostalgo scourge.
"I expect to be out in two or three days," Ferris explained. "I shall walk the streets with all the more pleasure now that I know there is no chance of meeting Anstruther. I have just been reading an account of the trial in one of the evening papers."
Seymour grasped his old comrade's hand, and drew him eagerly to the light. It was brilliant sunshine outside, so that the face of Ferris was picked out clearly. Despite his assumed calmness, there was a trembling anxiety in Seymour's eyes. Long and earnestly did he gaze at the pale features of his friend.
"Yes," he muttered. "Yes, I can hope at last. What a wonderful operator your surgeon must be. So far as I can see, you have no marks whatever, except here and there some star-shaped scars, which will vanish in the course of a few days."
"They will be gone altogether at the end of a week," Ferris said. "At least, so my doctor says."
"Amazing!" Seymour cried. "Why, I myself have tried specialists in nearly every capital in Europe. Every one of them was utterly ignorant of how the thing had been brought about, and not a single operator of the lot could give me the faintest hope of my ever being any better; and yet here you find a comparatively unknown man, who places his finger on the right spot at once. How did he manage it?"
"That is quite easily explained," Ferris said. "You will not be surprised to hear that this Doctor Benin has led a life of adventure. He was out in Mexico four years ago with an exploring party, and accidentally came in contact with the same tribe that has cost us both so dear."
"Ah," exclaimed Seymour. "Now I begin to understand. Like the rest of us, Doctor Benin was after the gold. I presume he came under the ban of the tribe, who made a Nostalgo out of him, and turned him out as hideous as the rest of us."
"You have guessed it exactly," Ferris said gravely. "For over a year Benin was experimenting on the muscles of the face. He discovered, at length, that certain of these muscles had been drawn up by some ingenious process, and partially paralyzed. This it was that gave the face of every Nostalgo its peculiar hideous appearance. Benin discovered, at length, a means by which the temporary paralysis of the muscles could be removed, and a man's normal expression restored to him. You know what I was at one time--look at me now! I tell you that in a month from now you can be absolutely restored to the world, without people shuddering and turning away as they pass you in the street. The same remark applies to Lord Barmouth. Once Anstruther is out of the way, we shall come back to our own again, and know the meaning of happiness once more."
"I think that Barmouth ought to know this," Jack said. "I have already told him about Mr. Ferris, and he is anxious for a meeting to be arranged. But I must go off now, and inform him how successful the operation has been."
Jack found Barmouth pacing up and down the study in no enviable frame of mind. On inquiry, it turned out that Anstruther had sent Barmouth a summons to appear at the trial the following morning and give evidence on his behalf.
"Of course, this is a mere act of simple spite," he said. "He merely wants to expose me to the gaze of the world, and thus spoil the rest of my miserable life for me; but I shall go, I have quite made up my mind to that. At the same time, Anstruther will not realize his purpose. I shall take the precaution to practically hide my face with strips of sticking plaster, and let it be understood that I am suffering from the result of an accident."
Jack proceeded to turn the conversation in the direction of Doctor Benin. He could not complain that he lacked an interested listener. Barmouth would see Benin without delay; indeed, he would call upon him after he had given evidence at the trial to-morrow. There would be no difficulty about this, Jack said, for Benin was pretty sure to attend the hearing in person. Jack's prophecy was borne out next morning by the appearance of Benin in the well of the court. The first witness called was Barmouth; who, true to his promise, had disguised himself almost beyond recognition. As he stepped into the witness-box, Anstruther turned upon him savagely from the dock, and then the face of the latter, with the light upon it, was plainly visible to the little French doctor. Heedless of his surroundings, heedless of the solemnity of the occasion, the Frenchman jumped to his feet, and pointed a shaking finger in Anstruther's direction.
"Murderer, murderer!" he cried. "Dog, is it you?"
Anstruther paused, and threw up his hands like a man who is shot. He fell back, a collapsed heap, on the floor of the dock. A warder rushed forward and raised the prostrate figure.
"I think he is dead, my lord," he said simply.
Anstruther lay there to all appearances quite dead. So swift and dramatic had the whole thing been, that nobody moved for a moment; indeed, a greater portion of the excited audience did not seem to grasp what had happened. Rigby turned and looked at Benin, who was frowning in the direction of the dock, and breathing hard as if he had run fast and far. Then one of the warders in the court moved to the assistance of his colleague, and between them they raised the prisoner so that his haggard face appeared over the edge of the rail. With an assumption of indifference, the Frenchman dropped back into his seat again.
"Surely he is not afraid of you," Jack whispered. "And yet I feel quite certain that your appearance frightened him terribly."
"He has good need to be afraid of me," Benin growled. "I could hang that man--I could prove him guilty of murder. For, look: that man and myself have met in Paris. You have little notion of the extent of his crime. But he is not dead--men of that type do not die so easily. See, he is opening his eyes again."
Anstruther had struggled into an upright position, and was feebly gasping for water. He gave one half-frightened glance in the direction of the Frenchman, who shrugged his shoulders, as if to say the whole affair was no business of his.
"I shall not betray him," he whispered to Rigby. "It is a painful case, which will be no better for being dragged into the light of day. Besides, that man will be punished enough; a long term of imprisonment will be worse to him than hanging. He understands, now, that I am not going to betray him."
Anstruther was himself again at last. He stood rigid and erect; there was the faint suggestion of a smile upon his face.
"Merely a passing weakness," he murmured. "I have to apologize to the court for the trouble I am giving. May I be allowed to make a statement?"
"It would have been far better if the statement had come through your counsel," the judge said. "I warned you from the first that you were imperiling your position by refusing to accept legal aid. If the jury find you guilty----"
"The jury may find me guilty or not," Anstruther said. "I am sufficiently strong a man to know when I am beaten. Therefore I do not propose to waste the time of the court by carrying my defense any further. I have assisted the police on many occasions; indeed, I have been a great help in bringing a number of notorious criminals to justice. But I pay the prosecution this compliment--never once in the whole course of my career have I worked out anything neater than the scheme which has placed me in my present position. I desire to plead guilty to the whole thing. I did conspire with Mr. Carrington over that bank business, and with my own hands I removed the Cellini plate to the custody of Carrington's private safe. I am not in the least penitent. I am not in the least sorry for myself. In the circumstances, I would act precisely the same again. You may do what you like with me, and pass any sentence you think fit. I don't think there is any need for me to say more."
The speaker bowed gravely to the judge and resumed his seat, which he had asked for as a favor. Failing any reply on the part of the Crown Attorney, the judge began to sum up the case. He made no comment, but curtly and drily sentenced the prisoner to fourteen years' penal servitude. The latter rose to his feet, and intimated that he was ready. With a firm step and the faint shadow of a cynical smile on his lips, he walked down the steps and thus disappeared forever from the society of his fellow men. The whole thing was over now, and the dramatic trial was finished. It was, perhaps, a fitting ending to a sensational case, which had been full of surprises from beginning to end. In spite of it all, Jack looked grave and somewhat anxious. Now that the affair was over, he could find it in his heart to have a little pity for Anstruther.
"Why so grave and silent?" Rigby asked.
"I think you understand," Jack said quietly. "It always seems to me a sad thing to see a man of such brilliant talents in so degraded a situation. Anstruther might have done anything. With an intellect like his he might have climbed to the highest places. And yet he prefers deliberately to remain a criminal."
"The criminal instinct must have been always there," Benin said. "There are some men who cannot go straight, and your brilliant Anstruther is one of them."
The audience was pouring out of the court now, talking eagerly and excitedly of the events of the morning. Only a few people remained now, and, glancing indifferently over them, Jack noted the pale, anxious features of Carrington. The man lingered behind, as if afraid to face the open air. He shrank back shaking and despairing as Bates walked over in his direction.
"Very sorry, Mr. Carrington," said the latter, "but my duty is quite clear before me. We had our own reasons for not placing you in the dock along with your friend, because we might have had to call you as a witness. As I promised you, I will do all I can to let you down as easily as possible, but I hold a warrant for your arrest on the grounds of theft and conspiracy, and I am bound to execute it. You will be good enough to come this way, please."
The wretched man whined and whimpered. But there was nothing for it now but to follow the detective, and, so far as Carrington was concerned, the story is finished. By this time Jack and his companions were in the street. They lingered there chatting together, uncertain as to what to do next, when Benin proceeded to solve the problem. He suggested the advisability of his having an interview with Lord Barmouth without delay.
"You tell me his lordship has already heard of me," he said. "After my own experiences, I can imagine what his feelings have been the last few years. I want to see him at once, and convince him that within a month he will be free to stand before his fellow men, as Ferris will be within the next few days."
Barmouth had lost no time in leaving the court directly he discovered that there would be no occasion for him to enter the witness-box.
When Jack and the others reached Belgrave Square, Barmouth had already removed the strips of plaster from his face, and was walking up and down his study with the restless air of one whose mind is ill at ease. All the same, he seemed to divine the cause of Benin's presence, for he held out his hand and smiled gratefully.
"I know you come to me in the guise of a friend, Doctor Benin," he said. "Is it too much to hope that you can cure me as you cured my friend Ferris?"
"There is no doubt about it whatever," the Frenchman said. "It is all a matter of an operation on the muscles of the face. You will be yourself again; even that horrible yellow tinge will disappear from your skin. I should like, if possible, to operate upon Seymour and yourself at the same time. I dare say you have some quiet country place that we could go to?"
There was more than one such retreat, as Barmouth proceeded to explain. They talked over the matter eagerly and earnestly for some time, until a message arrived that Mr. Anstruther earnestly desired an interview with Lord Barmouth. The latter started and shook his head. He had no disposition whatever to see Anstruther again. But as he thought the matter over, kindlier thoughts prevailed. After all, the man was past all power of mischief, and despite the way in which he had carried himself off, must have felt his position most keenly. On the whole, Barmouth decided to go.
He found Anstruther pacing up and down his roomy cell. The man looked haggard and drawn. Well as he had himself in hand, Anstruther's twitching lips betrayed his emotion.
"I dare say you wonder why I sent for you," he said. "You need not be afraid of me; they have rendered me quite harmless. They have even taken away my watch and chain and money. Why they left me this little pearl-headed scarf pin I don't know--probably they overlooked it. It is these little careless things which prevent the Force from being quite as efficient as it might be."
Anstruther smiled in a peculiar way as he spoke. But Barmouth did not appear to notice. Anstruther walked up and down the cell, talking freely as he went.
"It was exceedingly good of you to come," he said, "especially as I have done you so grievous a wrong. You will be perhaps pleased to hear that all the sufferings I underwent in Mexico were wasted. I never so much as laid my hand upon an ounce of the gold for which I risked my life; indeed, at the end I just contrived to save my mere existence. When I sent for you to-day it was most sincerely to ask you to pardon me for all the harm that I have done to you and others. I was going to tell you in any case the means by which you could be restored to your normal appearance. If the case went against me to-day I had determined to write to you and give you the address of Doctor Benin. But when I saw him in court to-day I knew perfectly well that you and he had already met, and, therefore, there was no reason for me to say anything. You and I have always been antagonistic; I do not bear you any ill will for that."
"And I can assure you that there is no ill will on my side," Barmouth replied. "Mind you, I cannot forget all the sufferings that I have undergone at your hands. It is strange what men will do when the greed for gold is upon them, and how little good does it tend to when the gold comes. Only a few hours ago I was longing to meet you face to face under such conditions as would render your death a secret. I would have killed you like a dog, I always meant to kill you. When I was paying blackmail to you under a name other than my own I was ever plotting the opportunity which would have betrayed you into my hands. I should have deemed it no crime to have rid the world of a scoundrel like yourself. And yet, as God is my witness, when I see you here like this, an outcast and a felon, when I think of the terrible way in which your great talents have been wasted, I have nothing but pity for your lamentable condition."
Anstruther took a step forward, the veins on his forehead knotted, his hands were clenched in a paroxysm of passion.
"Don't talk like that," he said hoarsely. "Don't begin to pity me, or I shall fly out and strangle you. If there was no chance of you ever being anything but what you are--I mean so far as your personal appearance is concerned--I would willingly change places with you at this moment. And I was a Nostalgo myself, and know what the punishment means. But I did not bring you here to talk entirely about myself. I have felt for a long time that Jack Masefield has viewed me with suspicion. Perhaps he thinks I am unaware of his engagement to Claire. Why, I knew every movement of his. He will be surprised to hear that I knew he was in the cupboard near Padini's room the time I was spying about there. What was I after? Well, Padini had certain papers of mine, and it was not policy to accuse him of the theftthen. Just as if open-minded people like those could deceive me. I can quite forgive Masefield for his caution, but you can tell him that Claire's fortune has suffered nothing at my hands. Not that I wish to take any credit for that; it is merely that the other trustee, being a shrewd lawyer, was too clever for me. However, Claire has her two thousand a year intact, and she is free to marry Masefield when she likes.
"There is another matter of which I wish to speak to you--that is, as regards Serena. I understand that she is Lady Barmouth's sister. Well, I am glad of that, because the poor woman and her boy will have a happy home in future. I behaved abominably to Serena: I lied to her, I tricked and tormented her, so that I might get her in my power, and make use of her wonderful talents as an actress. She believed that I held her life in the hollow of my hand, and therefore she was the veriest slave to my will. But nothing wrong, Barmouth; Serena is as good and pure as your own wife. I understand that Padini has been arrested owing to his having taken a hand in that musical jugglery of mine.
"For Serena's sake he must be got rid of. All you have to do is to drop a line to the Director of Public Prosecutions in Paris, and say that Monsieur Lemarque is masquerading in London as Padini, the violinist. After that I don't think Serena will be troubled with her precious husband any more. And now I will not detain you any longer. If you will accept this pin as a souvenir I shall be glad. You see it is a small pearl on a gold wire. There is one peculiarity about it. The pearl is hollow, and it often occurred to me how useful it would be to conceal a drop or two of some virulent poison inside in case one fell into the hands of the authorities."
Filled with a sudden suspicion, Barmouth darted forward. The faint mocking smile of Anstruther's face told him as plainly as words could tell exactly what was going to happen. He reached forward and clutched Anstruther. It was too late.
"For Heaven's sake, Anstruther," Barmouth cried. "Think; pause before you do anything so rash, so blasphemous."
"It is very good of you," Anstruther said quite coolly. "I know you mean well, but this is the way I prefer myself."
He placed the pearl within his lips, and crushed it with his teeth.