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diff --git a/old/55376-8.txt b/old/55376-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index c809c45..0000000 --- a/old/55376-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6243 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Piccadilly Puzzle, by Fergus Hume - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Piccadilly Puzzle - A Mysterious Story - -Author: Fergus Hume - -Release Date: August 17, 2017 [EBook #55376] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PICCADILLY PUZZLE *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by Google Books - - - - - - - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - 1. Page scan source: Google Books - https://books.google.com/books?id=x1n_HOv17EwC&dq - - - - - - -THE PICCADILLY PUZZLE. -A Mysterious Story. - - - -BY -FERGUS HUME. - -Author of -"THE MYSTERY OF A HANSOM CAB," "MADAME MIDAS," "THE GIRL FROM MALTA." - - - -In One Volume. - - - - -LONDON: -F. V. WHITE & CO., -31, SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND, W.C. -1889. - - - - - - -CONTENTS. -CHAP. -I. A FOGGY NIGHT -II. THE NEWS OF THE DAY -III. DOWKER--DETECTIVE -IV. THE ST. JOHN'S WOOD ESTABLISHMENT -V. THE PICCADILLY ROOMS -VI. A SUCCESSFUL EXPERIMENT -VII. A LITERARY ASPIRANT -VIII. A JUVENILE DETECTIVE -IX. THE LANGUAGE OF LOVE -X. THE MISSING LINK -XI. ANOTHER COMPLICATION -XII. A FAMILY HISTORY -XIII. MYLES DESMOND FINDS FRIENDS -XIV. MY LADY'S HUSBAND -XV. A STARTLING DISCOVERY -XVI. MORE REFLECTIONS -XVII. THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN -XVIII. WHAT MYLES DESMOND THOUGHT -XIX. WHAT DOWKER DISCOVERED -XX. THE END OF IT ALL - EPILOGUE - - - - - - -DEDICATED - -TO - -CHARLES WILLEBY, ESQ. - - - - - -THE PICCADILLY PUZZLE. - - - - -CHAPTER I. -A FOGGY NIGHT. - - -At two o'clock in the morning during the month of August sounds of -music could be heard proceeding from a brilliantly lighted house in -Park Lane, where a ball was being given by the Countess of Kerstoke. -True, the season was long since over, and though the greater part of -London Society had migrated swallow-like to the South of Europe in -search of warm weather, still there were enough people in town to -justify the ball being given, and a number of celebrities were -present. - -Outside it was dull and chill with a thick yellow fog pervading the -atmosphere, but within the great ball-room it was like fairy-land with -the brilliant light of the lamps, the profusion of bright flowers, and -the gay dresses worn by the ladies. The orchestra hidden behind a -gorgeous screen of tropical plants was playing the latest waltz, "A -Friend of Mine," and the sigh and sob of the melody as it stole softly -through the room seemed to inspire the dancers with a voluptuous -languor as they glided over the polished floor. The soft frou-frou of -women's dresses mingled with the light laughter of young girls and the -whispered confidences of their partners, while over all dominated the -haunting melody with its weird modulations and suggestions of sensuous -passion. - -Near the door of the ball-room a young man of about thirty years of -age was leaning against the wall in a lazy attitude, idly watching the -dancers swinging past him; but judging from the preoccupied expression -of his face his thoughts were evidently far away. He was tall, -dark-haired, with a short cut well-trimmed beard, piercing dark eyes, -a firmly compressed mouth, and judging from his swarthy complexion -together with a certain crisp curl in his hair he evidently had some -negro blood in his veins. Suddenly he was roused from his meditations -by a touch on his shoulder, and on glancing up saw before him a stout -elderly gentleman with white hair, a ruddy face, and rather a Silenus -cast of countenance. - -The one was Spenser Ellersby, only son of a wealthy West Indian -planter, and the other Horace Marton a well-known society man -generally called The Town-crier, from the fact that he knew all the -current scandals and retailed them with elaborate embellishments to -his numerous circle of friends. - -"Hey! Ellersby, my boy," said The Town-crier, on the alert to acquire -fresh information "have you come back once more to England, home and -beauty--hey? been all over the world I suppose, hey?--going to -publish a book of travels--hey?" - -"Not me," replied Ellersby in the slow, languid manner habitual to -him, "everyone who goes half-a-dozen miles now-a-days publishes a book -of travels under some fantastic title. I prefer to be renowned for not -having done so." - -"Broke no new ground--hey?" - -"No," indifferently. "I haven't the instincts of Columbus so the old -ground was good enough for me. I've done Africa in a superficial -manner, called on our American cousins, passed the same compliment to -our Australian ditto, in fact done the usual thing with the usual -result." - -"Hey! what's that?" - -"A sense of being bored--I agree with Voltaire to a certain extent, -'this is the best of all possible worlds,' but one does get and little -tired of it--however I have satisfied your curiosity, now return the -compliment. I've been away from England for two years so know nothing -of life in town--come unfold--tell me all--scandals, deaths, -marriages, divorces, in fact all the gossip of the hour." - -This was an occupation after The Town-crier's own heart, so he -launched out into a long description of folly and fashion varied by -sermons and scandal, which being spiced with a little maliciousness -proved quite an amusing discourse. Ellersby listened in silence with a -quiet smile on his lips, every now and then giving vent to an -ejaculation as he heard some special morsel of news. - -"You ought to write your memoirs, Marton," he said drily, "they would -be as gossiping as Pepys, as scandalous De Grammont, and as amusing as -either, but go on--anything more? Who are the new beauties?" - -"Hey! oh! one was here to-night, Lady Balscombe." - -"What! old Balscombe married," said Ellersby in a surprised tone. "I -thought he loved no one but himself--so!--and who is my lady?" - -"That's what everyone wants to know," replied Marton eagerly, "he -picked her up down in the country somewhere, but she's got no -pedigree--no money, no talents--nothing but personal beauty." - -"Which is worth all the rest put together, to a woman," interrupted -Ellersby cynically. "What is she like?" - -The Town-crier reeled off an auctioneer-like description at once. - -"Tall, fair, blue eyes, beautiful complexion, magnificent figure, and -the devil's own temper." - -"Nice set of qualifications, especially the latter," murmured -Ellersby. "Balscombe fond of her?" - -"Hey! oh yes--madly! won't let her out of his sight, but he had to -to-night as he's off down to his place in Berkshire on business, tried -to make her ladyship come to but she wouldn't because of this -dance--good Lord--fancy a dance at this time of the year!--but -Kerstoke's wife was always slightly cracked!" - -"Does Lady Balscombe reciprocate her husband's adoration?" - -Marton raised his eyebrows, rubbed his hands and leered significantly. - -"Not exactly! hey!" he replied chuckling. "Calliston is first -favourite there." - -"Eh!--the deuce--I thought he was in love with old Balscombe's ward, -Miss Penfold." - -"So he is--but he makes love to the wife just to keep his hand in--I -wouldn't be surprised if it ended in the Divorce Court." - -"Well you are generally right in your surmises," retorted Ellersby, -"but what would Miss Penfold say to that?" - -"Hey! oh, she'd be glad," replied Marton, "bless you she cares more -for Myles Desmond's little finger than she does for the whole body of -Calliston." - -"Oh I know Myles," said Ellersby promptly, "a rattling good fellow, -was with him at Cambridge but we somehow never hit it off--trying to -make a fortune by his pen I hear." - -"Yes! and hasn't made a penny yet, so he acts as secretary to his -cousin Lord Calliston--he's next heir to the title you know, hey!" - -"Much chance he'll have of it," replied Ellersby, contemptuously. -"Calliston's sure to marry and have heirs, unless he kills himself -in the meantime with drink--but, to revert to our former -conversation--the Balscombe ménage seems slightly mixed." - -"Hey! rather--it stands this way," explained Marton, eagerly; -"Balscombe's jealous of his wife on account of Calliston--Lady B. is -jealous of Calliston on account of Miss Penfold, and that young lady -does not care two straws for the whole lot of them in comparison to -Myles Desmond." - -"Sounds like the second act of a French play," murmured Ellersby, -yawning. "Well, when I see Lady Balscombe, I'll give you my opinion of -her looks; meantime, you must be dry after all that talking, so come -and have a drink." - -"Where are you stopping?" asked Marton, as they went to the -supper-room. - -"Guelph Hotel, Jermyn Street," said Ellersby, "only for a few days -till I get my rooms fixed up; I've brought such a lot of things home -that my chambers look like an old curiosity shop. What are you -having?" - -"Champagne," replied Marton. "Oh, I say, dear boy," seeing his -companion with a small glass full of brandy, "that looks bad at this -hour! Hey--you haven't---- - -"No, I haven't," interrupted Ellersby impatiently, "I'm only taking -this to-night because I don't feel up to the mark." - -Marton said no more, but after parting with his companion went back to -the ball-room, and meeting a friend, confided to him that poor -Ellersby was going to the dogs through drink. - -"Brandy neat, dear boy, hey!" said the old reprobate. "Bad habits -these young fellows pick up abroad, hey! look used up, by Jove! Gal in -it, dear boy, hey!--oh, shocking!" - -So The Town-crier evidently did not intend to give the returned -wanderer a good character. - -Ellersby was now tired of the ball, so bade good-night to his hostess, -who was a queer, thin little woman, wearing a wig, a low-cut dress, -and many jewels, giving one the general impression that she was mostly -bones and diamonds. - -After taking leave of this _bizarre_ figure Ellersby put on his coat -and went outside into the street, where he stood for a few moments, -undecided whether to take a cab to his hotel or to walk. The fog was -very thick, and the gas-lamps shone through it like dull yellow stars, -while the chill breezes of the night seemed to penetrate the body of -the young man, accustomed as he had been of late to tropical climates. - -In spite of the apparent discomforts offered by a walk at such a time, -Ellersby determined to risk it, thinking it would give him a certain -amount of amusement, akin somewhat to the unravelling of a puzzle, to -find his way through the fog to Jermyn Street. Smiling at the oddity -of the idea of finding pleasure in a cold walk on a foggy night, he -lighted a cigar and, buttoning up his coat, took his way down Park -Lane towards Piccadilly. - -There is a strange feeling in the complete isolation one experiences -in fog-land--the thick yellow mist hiding everything under its jealous -veil until the pedestrian finds himself adrift as it were on a lonely -sea, and though on every side he is environed by millions of human -beings, yet the fog creates for the moment a solitude as in those -enchanted cities of the Arabian Nights. - -Ellersby managed to find his way to Piccadilly, and was soon swinging -along the pavement at a good round pace. Every now and then ragged -figures with sinister faces would loom suddenly out of the fog on the -watch for unwary wanderers, but the nomadic life of Ellersby having -wonderfully sharpened his faculties, he was always on his guard -against the evil advances of these night-birds. Occasionally he could -hear a cab drive slowly past, the driver cautiously steering his horse -down the familiar street, which as if by magic had suddenly assumed an -unreal appearance, transforming Piccadilly into a vague immensity -resembling the Steppes of Russia. - -With his ears alert for every sound, and his eyes peering anxiously -into the veil of grey mist, Ellersby hurried along, managed to cross -the street, and, by some miracle of dexterity which he placed at once -to the credit of instinct, turned down St. James' Street, and it was -here his first mishap occurred, for just as he rounded the corner he -came against a young man hastening in the opposite direction at a -rapid pace. - -"I beg your pardon," said the stranger quickly, "but the fog is so -dense I could not see--excuse me." - -And he was about to hurry away, when Ellersby, recognising the voice, -stopped him. - -"Wait a moment, Desmond," he said, gaily, "and give an old friend a -word." - -Desmond seemed annoyed at being recognised, and looking sharply at the -face of the other gave vent to an ejaculation of surprise, which, -however, had not a very delighted ring in it. - -"Ellersby, by Jove!" he said in a hesitating manner, "I thought you -were in Persia or in Patagonia. Who the deuce would have expected to -see you in Piccadilly on such a devil of a night?" - -"I've been to a ball," explained Ellersby, "and thought I'd walk back -to my hotel just to renew my acquaintance with London fogs. It was a -mad freak, but amusing. Come to my hotel and have a nightcap." - -"Thanks, awfully," said Desmond, hurriedly, "but I can't. I'm--I'm in -a hurry. Where are you stopping?" - -"Guelph Hotel, Jermyn Street." - -"Eh!" said Desmond, with a start. "Jermyn Street--all right, look you -up to-morrow." - -"Wait a moment," observed Ellersby, detaining him. "Tell me, where is -Calliston? I want to see him." - -"Not much chance," replied Desmond, shaking his head, "he's--gone off -to-night down to Shoreham--yachting, you know. Wants to go to the -Azores; well, see you to-morrow; good-night--I'm in a deuce of a -hurry." - -He spoke rapidly, with nervous agitation quite at variance with his -usual demeanour, as Ellersby knew, and as he went off quickly and was -swallowed up by the fog, the latter resumed his walk with a quiet -laugh. - -"A woman, I bet," he said to himself as he made his way cautiously -along. "Fancy Venus on such a discouraging night as this--the rosy -mists enveloping the goddess are charming, but a London fog--ah, bah!" - -He stood on the pavement, wondering how he could strike Jermyn Street, -and was about to attempt to cross on the chance of his luck guiding -him, when suddenly the tall form of a policeman loomed out of the fog -and flashed the bright light of a lantern on him. - -"Ah, just in time, policeman," said Ellersby in a relieved tone. "I've -got slightly astray in this fog, so you must guide me to the Guelph -Hotel." - -"Just across the street, sir," replied the policeman, touching his -helmet, and he stepped off the pavement, followed by Ellersby. - -They soon got into Jermyn Street, and went along the left-hand side -towards the hotel. Though the fog was still thick, Ellersby in the -vanity of his heart thought he could now find the way for himself. He -gave the policeman half-a-crown, and going along a few yards went up -what he supposed were the steps of the hotel. The policeman stood in -the same place, ready to render his services as a guide, should he be -required, when suddenly he was startled by a cry from Ellersby. - -The young man had gone up the wrong steps, and was standing on the top -when the policeman hurried up, while at his feet was a bundle of what -looked like clothes. - -"I say, policeman," said Ellersby in an agitated tone, "here is a -woman--I believe she's dead." - -"Dead drunk, more like, sir," replied the policeman, sceptically, -ascending the steps. - -"No," said Ellersby, "I have shaken her and she will not waken. Her -face is quite cold--just look!" - -The policeman, somewhat startled out of his professional phlegm, -turned the light down on the figure of the woman, which was lying in -the doorway. It was that of a female with a fair face and golden hair, -dressed in a long sealskin jacket, and a silk dress, with a -fashionably shaped hat on her head. Her well-gloved hands were tightly -clenched, and her eyes, wide open, were staring straight up at the -horrified discoverers. There did not seem to be any wound or blood -about, but her face was swollen, and appeared to be of a dark purple -colour, with the tongue slightly protruding between the teeth. It was -not by any means a pleasant sight, and both men felt a sensation of -horror as they looked at the body. - -"She's dead, sure enough, sir," said the policeman at length, and blew -a whistle. To this call there was an answer, and soon another -policeman made his appearance. - -"She looks as if she had been strangled," said Ellersby, who was much -upset by the discovery, "her face is so purple and her tongue -protruding." - -The first policeman bent down and looked at the neck of the corpse, -but could see no marks of violence, so he shook his head. - -"Don't know, sir," he answered. "It looks a queer sort of case. We'll -take the body to the hospital, and see what the doctors say." - -In the meantime the other policeman had gone for aid, and in a few -minutes two more made their appearance with a stretcher, upon which -the body was placed and taken to the nearest hospital. - -In accordance with a request made by the policeman, Ellersby gave his -card, so that he could be called on to appear at the inquest, and then -went to the Guelph Hotel, which was only a short distance up the -street. - -When he arrived he had a glass of brandy neat, for he felt quite sick -with the horrible sight he had witnessed, and all through the night -his sleep was broken by visions of the beautiful face distorted with -agony. - -In truth it was a tragical termination to a night's pleasure. - - - - -CHAPTER II. -THE NEWS OF THE DAY. - - -"Hash" was a weekly paper, owned by one American, edited by another, -and conducted on strictly American principles. It mostly consisted of -sharp, incisive paragraphs, strongly epigrammatic in their -phraseology, and attention was drawn to these by startling sensational -headings. The staff of this journal comprised two men besides the -editor, and there was a good deal of paste and scissors work in -connection with the production of a number. As to the name _Hash_, it -requires some explanation. - -The word "hash" is used in America to designate a certain dish much in -favour with lodging-house keepers in the land of the free, wherein all -the unconsidered trifles left over from the six dinners of the week -are made into a savoury stew to serve for the seventh, and, being -highly spiced and deftly concocted, is apt to deceive an inexperienced -novice in lodging-house cookery, inasmuch as he deems it a dish formed -of new ingredients, a mistaken view, as can be seen from the foregoing -explanation. - -The proprietor of _Hash_, therefore, did in a literary sense that -which is often done in a culinary one, for, by stealing items of news -from other sources and making them into spicy little paragraphs, he -succeeded in producing a very readable paper, much in favour with -Londoners. - -If there was any new scandal, or shocking occurrence, _Hash_ was sure -to have a bright and witty description of it, and consequently sold -capitally. It was in this paper that the following items of interest -were told to the public a week after the discovery of the body in -Jermyn Street: - - "HIGH JINKS IN HIGH LIFE. - -"They're at it again. When will the British aristocracy learn that -they must not covet their neighbour's wife? Another elopement has -taken place, which will, doubtless, end as usual in the Divorce Court. -Same old game. - -"Last Monday Lady B---- left her home and went off with Lord C---- an -intimate friend of the lady's husband. It generally is the intimate -friend who is on the racket. - -"The guilty couple have sailed in a yacht for foreign climes, and the -indignant husband, Sir R---- B---- is inquiring for their whereabouts. -If he calls at our office, we will lend him articles of warfare, and -do our best to put him on the track. There is nothing new or original -about this comedy--they all do it. It's getting a trifle monotonous, -and we should suggest something new in the elopement line--a -mother-in-law, for instance. Good old mother-in-law! - -"When the pursuing husband comes up with the flying lovers, we will -give a report of the inquest." - -In the same number of _Hash_ a longer article appeared, headed: - - THE PICCADILLY PUZZLE. - -Cain was an amateur in the art of murder, but then he had no one to -copy from, so his clumsiness must be excused. The crime of Jermyn -Street, however, is an admirable example how civilization can improve -the difficult art of taking life in a skilful manner. The whole affair -is quite dramatic, so we will divide this tragedy into acts, and place -it before our readers. - -_Act I_.--Scene, Jermyn Street; foggy morning; half-past two. - -Enter Spencer Ellersby on his way to hotel from ball. In dense fog he -mistakes his hotel--goes up wrong steps; there finds dead body of -woman. Utters a cry of horror--cue for policeman, who enters; views -body by lantern light--sealskin jacket, silk dress, fair hair, -beautiful face--sounds whistle; enter other policemen, who exeunt with -body in one direction, while Spencer Ellersby goes off in the other. - -_Act II_.--Scene, hospital. Present, inspector, policeman, and doctor. - -Doctor examines body--finds no evidence of violence, except slight -discoloured mark on one side of neck--opinion of inspector that -something, chain probably, has been wrenched off by assassin--is also -of opinion that death could not have been thus caused. Doctor says -death is caused by blood-poisoning--evidence being, swollen condition -of body, protruding tongue, discolouration of skin--thinks it must be -poison--makes minute examination--finds on neck slight scratch just on -jugular vein, greatly inflamed--is of opinion that assassin has -wounded victim in neck with poisoned dagger or knife. Inspector takes -description of body for purpose of having hand-bills printed to -distribute about city--exeunt omnes with body to Morgue. - -_Act III_. is so long that we will drop the dramatic style and tell it -in our own fashion. Our special reporter was at the inquest, and the -following are the result of his inquiries: - -The body of the deceased was examined by the jury, and the following -articles of clothing were put in evidence: - - 1. Sealskin jacket. - 2. Silk dress. Gloves. - 3. Under linen (not marked). - 4. Hat (brown and blue velvet intertwined, clasped with silver -crescent). - -Evidence of Spencer Ellersby: - -Independent gentleman. Been travelling for some years, and only -returned to England a month ago. Was at Countess of Kerstoke's ball on -Monday last left at a few minutes past two o'clock--walked along -Piccadilly; met a friend in St. James's Street--spoke to him for a few -moments. When he left him, met policeman, who guided him through fog -to Jermyn Street--left policeman and went up steps, thinking it was -Guelph Hotel--found there body of deceased--called policeman, and body -was taken to hospital. Does not know deceased in any way. - -Evidence of Constable Batter: - -Corroboration of evidence of former witness. - -Evidence of Dr. Fanton: - -Examined body of deceased--well nourished. Deceased had evidently been -in good health. Should say she had been dead at time of examination -about three hours. Death appeared to have been caused by paralysis. -The blood was disorganised, therefore he judged deceased had been -poisoned, and disorganisation was caused by action of virus. The veins -were congested--lungs full of blood, congealed and of a dark colour. -The face was swollen, and of a dark purple appearance--tongue also -protruded. Small wound on neck over jugular vein, in itself not -sufficient to cause death. Thought from all appearances that the -assassin had inflicted wound with poisoned dagger or knife, hence -appearance of body. If a powerful poison, it would act in a very short -time, as the blood in jugular vein went straight to the heart. Poison -would act in about ten minutes--if deceased had been excited, in even -a shorter time. - -This closed the evidence. - -Inspector said all inquiries had been made to find name of deceased, -but no clue had as yet been obtained. The case had been placed in the -hands of Detective Dowker who was present. - -Coroner summed up. - -Woman had been found dead--proved by evidence of Policeman Batter and -Mr. Ellersby. - -Death had been caused by poison--proved by evidence of Dr. Fanton. - -Poison administered through wound in neck by means of dagger, knife, -or lancet. No evidence to show who had inflicted wound. - -Jury would please return verdict in accordance with evidence. - -The jury consulted for a few minutes and returned verdict. That -deceased had come to her death by violence by the hand of some person -or persons unknown. - -This is the whole statement of the case which we have entitled The -Piccadilly Puzzle, and we will now make our comments thereon. - -In the first place from all appearances the deceased was evidently a -lady and not a street walker. We know that many street walkers are -ladies who have fallen into that state of degradation, but this -unknown woman was not one of them in our opinion, for as far as we can -learn she bore no marks of dissipation, which such a life would -inevitably cause. Again, if she had been an habitué of the streets she -would have been known to the police, but none of them were able to -identify her. True, her face had been swollen and disfigured by the -action of the poison so that in any case it would have been difficult -to recognize the features, still her dress and figure might lead to -identification, but no result had been arrived at. The deceased, -therefore, to all appearances was a lady. Jermyn Street is not a -particularly busy thoroughfare at any time, and after eleven o'clock -it is comparatively deserted, therefore the assassin must have decoyed -his victim there to accomplish his crime in safety. He might have had -an appointment to meet her, and while talking to her in the doorway, -had he embraced her, might doubtless have wounded her with the -poisonous weapon. She would only feel a pin-prick, and then he could -watch the poison do its work. She would become confused and then -giddy, entertaining no idea that she carried death in her veins. Then -passing into a comatose state she would sink to the ground in a dying -condition. Her companion had then probably left her, satisfied that -she could not call out. There seems to have been a great deal of -devilish ingenuity about the committal of the crime, and this brings -us to the consideration as to the position in life held by the -assassin. - -We hold that he is a gentleman, or at least an educated man, possibly -a medical man, a medical student, or a _dilettante_ in toxicology. A -common assassin would have decoyed his victim into a house and -murdered her in a more brutal manner, by cutting her throat or -battering her head with a poker, but this strange assassin, secure in -the possession of a weapon more deadly, engages his unhappy victim in -confidential talk, and whilst embracing her causes her death in a sure -manner. It is a Judas-like crime, the kiss of friendship and the heart -of treachery, therefore we say the criminal who possesses these -refined and fiendish instincts must be an educated man, and also one -who must have no little knowledge of poisons to employ the subtle drug -he did. The nature of the poison cannot be discovered, as the simple -scratch corrupted the blood and there are no local signs to tell what -kind was employed. As to the motive of the crime, it may have been -love, it may have been jealousy, perhaps robbery; as no money or -jewellery were found on the body, and there was a mark on the neck as -though a chain had been roughly wrenched off. What we have set forth -is mere conjecture, for the assassin may be a woman, but we think this -improbable. No woman would have the nerve to commit such a crime in -the open street--true the assassin, was favoured by the fog which hid -his or her crime behind an impenetrable veil, but still the risk was -enormous. - -But be the assassin man or woman there is no doubt we have in our -midst a human fiend who, possessed of a deadly weapon, namely, a -poisoned dagger, can commit crimes with impunity? A slight scratch -given in a certain portion of the body and the victim is doomed. Who -is to point out the assassin, unless he or she is actually seen -committing the crime. We have not yet heard the end of the Piccadilly -Puzzle, but it will take all the acumen and ingenuity of the London -detective to trace this secret assassin, and our only dread is lest -some other victim may fall before his or her terrible weapon. - -But though the assassin of this unknown woman may escape the -consequences of this crime, sooner or later he will thirst again for -blood, and the second time he may not be so fortunate. Let him -remember - - Tho' the mills of God grind slowly, - They grind exceeding small. - - - - -CHAPTER III. -DOWKER--DETECTIVE. - - -Mr. Dowker was a long lean man of a drab colour. His hair was thin, of -a neutral tint, his eyes a watery blue, and his somewhat large mouth -drawn down at the corners betokened a lachrymose nature. He wore -greyish clothes always a little threadbare, and large thick-soled -boots chosen rather for utility than beauty. His head-gear consisted -of a sad-coloured soft hat pulled well over his eyes, from under which -his scanty hair hung in a depressing manner. In fact he had a somewhat -sketchy appearance, as if he had been outlined and waited to be filled -up with colour, but this stage of development which would have turned -him into a thing of beauty, was never arrived at, and his general -appearance was dismal in the extreme. He wore a beard, that is several -tufts of straggly hair were planted in patches over his face but did -not seem to flourish. He never smiled and frequently sighed, so that -his manners as well as his appearance were not calculated to inculcate -cheerful thoughts. - -But notwithstanding this unprepossessing exterior, there was no -cleverer man in London, and the most dexterous criminal would rather -have had any other detective after him than this apparently -unpromising thief-catcher. The outward resemblance of a man is not -invariably the index of his mind, and the Puritan physiognomy of Mr. -Dowker was a very serviceable mask to the acuteness and brilliancy of -his intellect. Consequently, when the Piccadilly Puzzle case promised -to be such a difficult one to unravel, it was placed in the hands of -Mr. Dowker and the whole affair left entirely to him. Dowker was -pleased at this tribute to his cleverness, and sighed in an approving -manner as he rapidly reviewed all the evidence which had come under -the eyes of the police. - -In the first place it would be necessary to discover the name of the -deceased, and then by finding out the manner of her life, the motive -of the crime might be discovered, pointing to the criminal. The -clothing was not marked in any way, but on examining the hat, Dowker -found from a ticket on the inside that it had been purchased at the -shop of Madame Rêne in Regent Street; so, wrapping up the hat in -paper, he betook himself to the establishment of that lady, as the -first step in the chain of evidence which he hoped to complete by the -discovery of the assassin. - -Madame Rêne's establishment was one of the smartest in London, and was -well-known to the feminine world, who were accustomed to pay the -exorbitant sums demanded there for goods which could have been bought -much cheaper elsewhere, but then they would not have been stamped with -Madame Rêne's approval, and that omission was to declare that the -article was unfashionable. Madame Rêne's trade-mark being thus -indispensable, ladies never ventured to go anywhere else if they could -possibly manage it, and Madame Rêne flourished greatly. - -Dowker entered the shop and asked to see Madame Rêne, to whose -presence he was conducted at once, for the detective was well-known -there, haying been frequently employed by Madame in missions of a -delicate nature, principally concerning ladies of high rank and -diamonds. - -Madame herself was short and stout, with a thoroughly English face, -and indeed, she had been born within the sound of Bow Bells, but took -her French name for trade purposes. Her voice was sharp and shrill, -and her black eyes bold and piercing--a thorough woman of business, -who knew the value of money and time, so wasted neither. - -"Well, Mr. Dowker," said Madame when the detective had taken his seat -in her private office and closed the door, "what is the matter now? I -was just going to send for you." - -"What about?" asked Dowker with a sigh, "more trouble?" - -"Yes--Lady Balscombe's run away with Lord Calliston, and she owes me a -lot of money, so I want to know the chances of getting paid." - -"Any security?" inquired the detective. - -"Oh, yes--I'm not such a fool as to lend ladies money without -security," said Madame with a shrill laugh. "I've got a diamond -necklace, but I think it belongs to Sir Rupert Balscombe--part of the -family jewels--I suppose I'd better go and see him." - -"I think that would be the wisest plan." - -"Humph!" sniffed the lady, frowning, "I don't know. On the one hand he -may pay me my money and redeem the necklace, on the other he may kick -up a row, and I don't want my dealings in this way made public. I'd -have a whole army of husbands down on me--just like men--they go to -the Jews themselves to get ready money, and when their wives do a bit -of borrowing with their milliners, they make a fuss." - -"Why not sell the necklace?" - -"That's what I'm going to do as soon as I hear from Lady Balscombe. I -suppose she'll be divorced, and marry Calliston--more fool she, for -he's a scamp--then she'll want to redeem the necklace quietly, but I -don't know where to write to her. Where have they gone to?" - -"I hear in a yacht to the Azores," said Dowker, who knew everything; -"they'll turn up again I've no doubt--then you can see her." - -"What an idiot she was to give up such a fair position!" said Madame, -who looked at the whole affair from a purely worldly point of view. -"She was nobody when Sir Rupert picked her up, and he gave her -everything--she made ducks and drakes of his money--they fought, and -the result is she's gone off with Calliston--a man who is the biggest -scamp in town." - -"Yes, I know, got a little crib in St. John's Wood, said Dowker, who -had no hesitation in talking plainly to this woman, who knew as much -about fast life as he did. - -"So I hear--never saw his mistress, but hear she's a beautiful -woman--there will be a row when she hears his latest escapade; but -he'll get tired of Lady Balscombe and go back to the St. John's Wood -establishment--they always do." - -"Well, the whole affair will end as usual," said the detective with a -sigh, "in a public scandal and divorce; but I want to see you about -this," and taking the hat out of the parcel, he laid it before Madame. -It was rather striking-looking--black straw, with brown and blue -velvets twisted together and caught on one side with a slender silver -crescent. - -"Yes, that's mine," said Madame, glancing at it. "Rather good style, I -think. What do you want to know?" - -"The name of the person you sold it to." - -"Humph!--rather a difficult question to answer--some one might have -bought it and taken it away with them, but if they left an address -I'll soon find out." - -She touched a bell, and a girl appeared. - -"Send Miss Brail to me--she's invaluable," explained Madame to Dowker -when the girl had vanished. "Such a wonderful memory, forgets nothing. -I find her useful in my deals with ladies--a milliner's business is -not all bonnets and hats, as we know." - -"It's more than the world does," responded Dowker with as near an -approach to a smile as he allowed himself. - -Miss Brail made her appearance, and decided the question at once. - -"It was sold to a lady about two months ago--somewhere in St. John's -Wood." - -"Was it a real lady?" asked Dowker. - -"Well, she was more like a servant," responded Miss Brail doubtfully, -"I should say a lady's maid." - -"Was it sent?" asked Madame impatiently. - -"Yes--the address is in the book," answered Miss Brail, and went out -to get the book. In a few moments she returned, and announced: - -"Lydia Fenny, Cleopatra Villa, St. John's Wood." - -In spite of his habitual phlegm, Dowker started, on perceiving which, -Madame dismissed Miss Brail at once. - -"Why do you start?" she asked curiously, when the door had closed. - -Dowker sighed in his usual manner, and taking out his handkerchief, -twisted it up into a hard ball, a sure sign that he was impressed in -some way. - -"Cleopatra Villa is Lord Calliston's place." - -"Oh!" said Madame in rather an amazed tone, "what a curious thing we -should have been speaking about him! I suppose this Lydia Fenny is the -lady's maid there." - -"Was the lady's maid," corrected Dowker. - -"What do you mean?" - -"If this hat," touching it, "was sold by you to Lydia Fenny--she is -dead." - -"Dead!" - -"Yes, the victim of the Jermyn Street murder." - -"What?" Madame Rêne sprang to her feet, greatly agitated. - -"I wanted to find out the name of the dead woman in order to get a -clue to the perpetrator of the crime," explained Dowker rapidly, "this -hat was on the head when the body was discovered. It had a mark inside -showing it was bought here, so I came here to find out to whom it was -sold--you tell me Lydia Fenny, so the logical conclusion is that Lydia -Fenny is the victim." - -"It's all very strange," said Madame, rapidly looking at him with keen -eyes, "but it may not be Lydia Fenny at all. Other hats might have -been made similar to this one, or Lydia Fenny might have lent or given -the hat to another person." - -"There is only one way of finding that out," said Dowker, wrapping up -the hat and rising to his feet. - -"And that is?" - -"To make inquiries at Cleopatra Villa. Good-day," and the detective -went out, leaving Madame transfixed with astonishment. - -"Humph," she said at length. "I wonder if Lord Calliston's got -anything to do with this murder." - - - - -CHAPTER IV. -THE ST. JOHN'S WOOD ESTABLISHMENT. - - -Cleopatra Villa was a pleasant house and a very expensive one, as Lord -Calliston found to his cost. But then the presiding deity, by name -Lena Sarschine, was very beautiful, and insisted upon having her -dwelling fitted up in a corresponding manner, so Calliston gave way, -and spent a small fortune on this bijou residence. - -Dowker knew a good many of these little paradises with their -worldly-wise Eves, the existence of whom was not supposed to be known -to the polite world, so he felt quite at ease when upon ringing the -bell he was admitted to the garden by a solemn-looking man servant. -He was well acquainted with Calliston's life both public and -private--neither side being very reputable--but then, with such -advantages of wrong doing as the world now offers, 'tis hard to be -virtuous. - -Calliston had come into the title whilst in his childhood, and, the -estate having been well looked after during his minority, he found -plenty of money to spend when he came of age, and he certainly did -spend it. Horse-racing and yachting were his two principal pleasures, -but curiously enough his name was never mixed up with any well-known -woman, and few of his friends knew except by hearsay of the divinity -who dwelt in Cleopatra Villa. Calliston had fallen in love with her -down in the country some years before, and bringing her up to town -installed her in the bijou residence, which she rarely left. -Occasionally she went to the theatre, and sometimes drove in the Park, -but at such rare intervals that few people knew who she was. Calliston -was very jealous of her and seldom asked his friends to supper, but -she was reported by the few who had been thus honoured to be a very -beautiful woman with charming manners. The general opinion was that he -would end up by marrying her, when his entanglement with Lady -Balscombe became known, and henceforward he was seen more by that -lady's side than in the neighbourhood of St. John's Wood. - -Dowker, from some mysterious source only known to himself, was -cognisant of all this, and had now come down to discover what -connection the establishment of St. John's Wood had with the murder in -Jermyn Street. - -He knew that Calliston had gone off with Lady Balscombe, so said he -had a message from him and would like to see Miss Sarschine. The -servant showed him into a magnificently-furnished drawing-room, where -he awaited the appearance of the lady, intending when she entered to -ask her all particulars about her maid Lydia Fenny, with a view to -discovering the perpetrator of the crime. Being of an inquiring turn -of mind Dowker arose from his seat when the door was closed, and -folding his hands behind his back strolled about the room, his lank -grey-clad figure seeming sadly out of place. - -It was not a very large apartment, but luxuriously furnished, the -walls being hung with pale-green silk draped in graceful folds and -caught up here and there with thick silver cords. The carpet, also of -a pale-green, was embroidered with bunches of white flowers, and the -window curtains were of soft white Liberty silk. There were two -windows on one side in deep recesses filled with brilliantly-tinted -flowers, white blossoms predominating, and at the end of the room were -folding doors opening into a conservatory filled with ferns, in the -middle of which a small fountain splashed musically into a wide marble -basin. There were low velvet-covered lounging chairs all about, tables -crowded with _bric-â-brac_ and photographs in oxydised silver frames, -whilst here and there on the carpet were skins of bears and tigers. -Contrary to the usual custom in drawing-rooms there was only one -mirror, a small oval glass over the mantel-piece framed in pale-green -plush. In the corners were high palms and other tropical vegetation, -with white marble statues peering from out of their green leaves, and -in one corner a handsome grand piano on the top of which lay a lot of -sheet music. The room was illuminated by two or three tall brass lamps -with bright green shades smothered in creamy lace, and just over the -piano were a number of quaint-looking weapons arranged in a fantastic -fashion. Highland broadswords, Indian daggers, and Malay krisses were -all grouped round a small silver shield handsomely embossed, and -though at first they seemed somewhat out of place against the rich -silk hangings, yet when the eyes became accustomed to them the effect -was not unpleasant. - -Dowker took a leisurely survey of the apartment and then returned to -his seat to await the appearance of Miss Sarschine and to think over -the curious aspect the Piccadilly case now presented. - -His cogitations ran somewhat after this fashion. - -The time of the discovery of the body by Mr. Ellersby was about -half-past two--the medical evidence at the inquest was to the effect -that the deceased had been dead about two hours, so allowing a margin -for possible inaccuracies the crime must have been committed about -midnight, at which time there would be a certain amount of traffic -through Jermyn Street. But then the spectacle of a man talking to a -woman in the doorway of a house would hardly attract much attention, -and if the murderer had accomplished his purpose by means of poison -there was no doubt the fanciful description given by _Hash_ would be -tolerably correct. Supposing the assassin to have wounded his victim -by means of a poisoned weapon, she would have become confused and -giddy, finally passing into a comatose state, in which she would -quietly expire. Therefore, there would be no screaming to attract the -attention of passers-by, and albeit in any case lying down would have -aroused curiosity, yet the fog was so thick on that night that no one -would see the position of the criminal and his victim. - -Now, the next question was why did Miss Sarschine not make inquiries -after her maid--a week had elapsed since the murder, and the girl's -absence for that time would certainly seem unaccountable. On her -non-appearance her mistress would watch the papers to see if anything -had happened to her. She would then notice the Jermyn Street murder, -and from the description given would have no difficulty in recognizing -her servant. Since though she had without doubt become cognisant of -the fact that Lydia Fenny was dead she had not come forward to -identify the body, and Dowker pondered over the reason she had for -this reticence. - -"She can't have committed the crime herself," said Dowker in a puzzled -tone, "as she would hardly do so in such a public place, but why has -she been so quiet?--again she couldn't know anything about poisoned -weapons--no, she must have some other reason for holding her tongue." - -At this moment his attention was caught by the display of weapons on -the wall, and with a short exclamation he walked across the room and -looked sharply at them. They were arranged in a fantastic pattern, -each side being the same, but here Dowker noticed with much curiosity -that one side was incomplete, a Malay kriss having been removed. He -looked at the other side and there were certainly two arranged -crossways, but on the other there was only one. Dowker was startled by -this discovery as it seemed to point to the fact that the crime had -been committed by the missing kriss. He knew the Malays were a savage -nation, and without doubt poisoned their daggers, so the absence of -one of these would argue that this had been the weapon used. He -gingerly touched the point of a kriss with the tip of his finger, and -then drew it hastily away. - -"It might be poisoned," he muttered, looking at his finger to assure -himself he had not broken the skin. "I wonder if it is--I'd like to -find out." - -Glancing hastily round the room to make sure he was alone, he took a -kriss from the wall on the other side so that the pattern was now -equalised, and trusted to this fact to hide his abstraction of the -weapon. Then he took some old letters out of his pocket, and tearing -them up into strips carefully swathed the blade of the kriss to -prevent possible accidents, and slipped the parcel into his breast -pocket. - -"I'll go and see a doctor," he muttered to himself as he buttoned his -coat, "and try the effect of this on a dog; if the symptoms of death -are the same, that will be proof conclusive that the missing dagger -was used to commit the crime. Once I establish that, I'll soon find -out the guilty party, as it must have been some one in this -house--especially as Lydia Fenny was a servant here." - -He walked back again to his chair and had just sat down when the door -opened and a woman entered. Not at all pretty, medium height, dark -hair and eyes, and a sharp, active-looking face, which, however, -was disfigured by marks of the small pox. She was dressed in a -well-made dark costume and wore a knot of crimson ribbon round her -throat. Dowker surveyed this lady carefully and instantly came to the -conclusion that this was a fellow-servant of Lydia Fenny--certainly -not Miss Sarschine. - -"Hang it," muttered Dowker, "he wouldn't make love to that!" - -The newcomer advanced as Dowker arose to his feet. - -"You want to see Miss Sarschine?" she asked, looking at the detective. - -"Yes; have I the pleasure----?" - -"No; I am not Miss Sarschine, but I can let her have any message you -wish delivered." - -"Cannot I see the lady herself?" - -"You cannot; she is out of town." - -"Oh!" Dowker looked rather blank. This then was the reason Miss -Sarschine did not come forward to identify the body. - -"From whom is your message?" asked the woman. - -"From--from--Lord Calliston," said Dowker, in a hesitating manner. - -"That's impossible," replied the woman curtly. - -"Why?" - -"Because Lord Calliston is away yachting, and Miss Sarschine is with -him." - -"Oh, indeed!" - -Dowker was beginning to feel rather nonplussed as he was now at a loss -for an excuse for his presence, so he tried another plan. - -"Do you read the papers?" he asked sharply. - -"Sometimes; not often," said the woman, somewhat taken aback. "Why do -you ask?" - -"I have particular reasons for the question." - -"I am not bound to answer your question. May I ask your name?" - -"Dowker--detective." - -The woman started at this and looked a little curiously at him. - -"What do you want to know?" - -"Are any of the servants of this house missing?" - -"No." -"Dear me! have any been lately dismissed?" - -"No; do you allude to any particular servant?" - -"Yes; Lydia Fenny." - -The woman started again. - -"What about her?" - -"She is dead. If you had read the papers you would have noticed the -Jermyn Street tragedy. She is the victim." - -"There is some mistake," said the woman, quietly. - -"I don't think so," replied Dowker, coolly taking out the hat from the -newspaper. "Do you know this?" - -At the sight of the hat the woman became violently agitated. - -"Yes; where did you get this?" - -"It was on the head of the woman who was murdered." - -The other gave a cry and staggered back. - -"Oh, my God!" she said, under her breath, "what does it all mean?" - -"Mean? It means that Lydia Fenny is dead." - -"No!" she cried vehemently, "not dead." - -"How do you know?" - -"Because I am Lydia Fenny." - -Dowker stared at her aghast. - -"Yes," she went on rapidly, "the hat is mine; how did you find out I -was the owner?" - -"I went to Madame Rêne and she told me you bought it from her; but who -was the dead woman?" - -Lydia Fenny again gave a cry. - -"I'm afraid to say--I'm afraid to say; how was she dressed?" - -"In a sealskin jacket, a silk dress and that hat." - -Lydia wrung her hands in despair. - -"It must be true," she moaned; "it is the dress she wore." - -"Who wore?" asked Dowker in an excited tone. - -"My mistress--Miss Sarschine." - -The case seemed to be more mysterious than ever; instead of the maid -it was the mistress. Dowker took a photograph of the deceased and gave -it to Lydia. - -"Who is that?" he asked eagerly. - -"Miss Sarchine," she replied quickly; "but what is the matter with her -face?" - -"Swollen by poison." - -"Poison?" - -"Yes. On Monday last she was found lying dead in Jermyn Street, killed -by a poisoned dagger." - -"Last Monday night!" said Lydia with a gasp, "that was the last time I -saw her." - -"Look here," said Dowker quietly, "you'd better tell me all about it. -I am employed in the case and I want to discover who murdered your -mistress; so tell me all you know." - -Lydia Fenny, who seemed to possess strong nerves, sat down and began -to speak deliberately. - -"I will tell you everything and help you to bring the murderer of my -poor mistress to justice but I don't know anyone who would have killed -her. She lived a very quiet life and had few friends. Lord Calliston -came here very frequently, and she was very much in love with him. -Where she came from I don't know, as I have only been with her about a -year, but he often told her he would make her his wife, and she was -always imploring him to do so. About three months ago he met some -great lady----" - -"Lady Balscombe?" - -"Yes, that was the name--and fell in love with her. He neglected Miss -Sarschine and she reproached him. There was a lot of trouble and -quarrelling between them and Lord Calliston stayed away a good bit. -Three weeks ago I went away for a holiday, and when I came back I -found my mistress in a terrible state. She had discovered in some way -that Lord Calliston had determined to elope with Lady Balscombe and go -off to the Azores in his yacht. Miss Sarschine was mad with rage; she -said she would kill them both; and then thought she'd play a trick -upon Lord Calliston and go off with him instead. This was on Monday -last." - -"The time of the murder," murmured Dowker. - -"She went to Lord Calliston's rooms in Piccadilly and found out from -his valet that he intended to leave town that evening for Shoreham, -where his yacht was lying, and that Lady Balscombe was to follow him -early next morning. So she came back here and, waiting till the -evening, dressed herself and put on my hat as less conspicuous than -her own. She intended to catch the ten minutes past nine train from -London Bridge Station and go right on board Lord Calliston's yacht and -insist upon his sailing and leaving Lady Balscombe in the lurch. She -went out about seven with that intention and since then I have heard -nothing of her. I thought she had carried out her scheme and gone off -with Lord Calliston to the Azores." - -"Did you not hear of the Jermyn Street murder?" - -"Yes, casually, but I never thought of connecting it with my mistress, -and all the servants here live very quietly, so they would never think -Miss Sarschine was the victim." - -"What was she doing in Jermyn Street?" - -"I can't tell you. Lord Calliston has rooms in Piccadilly, so perhaps -she went there first and then through Jermyn Street on her way to the -station." - -"You do not know anyone who had a grudge against her?" - -"No--no one." - -Dowker arose to his feet. - -"I will call and see you again," he said, "but meanwhile give me Lord -Calliston's address in Piccadilly and I will find out if Miss -Sarschine was at his rooms on that night." - -Lydia Fenny, who was now crying, gave the necessary address and -followed him to the door. - -"One moment," said Dowker, stopping. "Where is the dagger that used to -be on the wall?" - -Lydia looked round for the weapons and gave a cry of astonishment. - -"Two are gone." - -"I have the one, but the other--where is it?" - -"Miss Sarschine took it down on Monday, and said if Calliston did not -take her with him she'd kill him." - -"Kill him--not herself?" - -"No, she had no idea of committing suicide. What are you going to do -with the other?" - -"Try it on a dog, and find out if the symptoms of death are the same, -then I will know the companion dagger to this was the cause of your -mistress's death." - -"But who would take it from her and use it?" - -"That's what I've got to find out. She must have met some one in -Jermyn Street who killed her with it." - -"It can't be suicide?" - -"Hardly. The wound is in the jugular vein in the neck, so it could -hardly have been self-inflicted. Besides, she would not choose a -public street to die in." - -"When shall I see you again?" - -"After I have found out what took place in the Piccadilly chambers on -Monday last." - -And Dowker departed, very well satisfied with the result of his -inquiries. - - - - -CHAPTER V -THE PICCADILLY ROOMS. - - -Calliston occupied a suite of rooms in a side street leading off -Piccadilly; and very comfortable apartments they were, being -luxuriously furnished in the prevailing fashion of the day. His -sitting-room was hung with dark red curtains and carpet to match, and -the furniture being of a kind designed to promote ease and comfort, it -looked very snug, particularly at night. There was a desk in one -corner of the room piled up with a disorderly heap of papers. Over -this were fencing foils and boxing gloves, arranged against the wall, -and the pictures mostly consisted of photographs of pretty women and -paintings of celebrated horses. There was a small table near the -fireplace on which lay pipes, cigar-boxes and tobacco jars, and on the -sideboard a spirit stand, which was much in favour with Calliston's -friends A small book-case contained an assortment of French novels, -principally of the Zola and Mendes school, and, judging from the -shabby appearance of the books, must have been pretty well read. The -whole apartment had a dissipated air, and the atmosphere was still -impregnated with a faint odour of stale tobacco smoke. Opening off -this apartment were a dressing-room and bed-room, and though the whole -ménage was somewhat limited, yet it made up in quality what it lacked -in quantity. - -When Calliston was away, his Lares and Penates were looked after by a -worthy lady, who rejoiced in the name of Mrs. Povy, an appellation -which has in its sound a certain aroma of Pepys' Diary, but Lord -Calliston and his friends not being acquainted with the ingenuous -pages of the quaint Samuel, were unaware of this, so Mrs. Povy was -generally known by the name of Totty. She was elderly, very stout, -with a round red face the tint of which was due to health and not -drink, as she seldom imbibed anything stronger than tea. Totty was -addicted to a kind of regulation uniform, consisting of a black dress, -a huge white apron, and a muslin cap, set coquettishly on the side of -her elderly head. She was one of those quaint old motherly creatures, -who never offend, no matter what they say, and she frequently lectured -Calliston on the irregularity of his life, which that noble lord -accepted with an amused laugh. - -The late Mr. Povy had long since departed this life, and having been -what is vulgarly known as a warm man, had left Totty comfortably off, -so that lady occupied her present position more from choice than -necessity. She had a gruff voice, and her casual remarks had the sound -of positive commands, which she found of great use with refractory -servants. - -Totty learned from the papers that Lord Calliston had gone off to the -Azores with Lady Balscombe, and expressed her disapproval of his -action in the most emphatic manner to Mrs. Swizzle (a friend of her -youth) as they sat over their four-o'clock tea. - -"Ah," said Totty, fixing her eyes pensively on the little black -tea-pot, "it ain't no good being a reformatory. The way I've talked to -him about his goings on and now look at his goings off." - -"Perhaps he couldn't help himself," said Mrs. Swizzle, who was tall -and thin, and spoke in a kind of subdued whistle. - -"He never tried to, I'll be bound," retorted Mrs. Povy, wrathfully. -"Not as he's always bin after married pussons, for I know there is a -gal as he pays for her board and lodging." - -"Lor'," whistled Mrs. Swizzle, curiously. "Where?" - -"Never you mind," returned Totty, screwing up her mouth. "She's a gal -as no decent woman 'ud speak to her--silks and satings and wasting of -money--oh, I've no patience with 'em! Kettles is snow in whiteness -with gals' morals now." - -At this moment there came a ring at the door, and Totty hurrying away -to attend to it, Mrs. Swizzle made the best use of her time by eating -up the buttered toast as rapidly as she could. - -When Mrs. Povy opened the door she was confronted by a lank figure in -grey, which was none other than Dowker, come to prosecute his -inquiries concerning Miss Sarschine. - -"Well?" enquired Totty gruffly, annoyed at being disturbed, "and what -do you want?" - -Dowker gazed on the substantial figure before him and sighed. - -"A few words with you about Lord Calliston," he said softly. - -Mrs. Povy shook with wrath. - -"I ain't no spy or gossip," she said. "And if that is what you want to -find out, this ain't the shop--so walk out," and she prepared to shut -the door. But Dowker was too sharp for her, and placed his foot -inside. - -"Wait a moment, my good lady," he said, quietly. "I don't mean any -harm to Lord Calliston, and what I want to speak to you about is -important." - -Curiosity got the better of Totty's wrath, so after a time she -consented to speak to Dowker privately, and to this end led him -upstairs to Calliston's rooms. - -"We're quiet here," she said, closing the door. "I can't ask you into -my own room, as a perticler friend of mine is drinking tea with me." - -"This will do capitally," replied Dowker, glancing round the room. "And -now, as my curiosity may appear rude and you may refuse to answer some -of my questions, I may as well tell you who I am." - -"And who are you?" asked Mrs. Povy uneasily, "a noospaper or a -politics?" - -"Dowker--detective." - -Mrs. Povy's naturally red face became white. - -"What's up?" she gasped. "Has Lord Calliston bin doing anything -wrong?" - -"No, no," replied Dowker soothingly. "I only want to obtain some -information about Miss Sarschine." - -"I don't know that kind of pusson," said Totty angrily. "Never mind if -you know her or not," retorted Dowker sternly, "but answer my -questions." - -Mrs. Povy sniffed and would have refused, but there was something in -the detective's eye which quelled her, so she yielded an ungracious -assent. - -"When did Lord Calliston leave town for his yacht?" - -"About a week ago--on Monday last." - -"Where was his yacht lying?" - -"At Shoreham. He went to London Bridge Station to catch the ten -minutes past nine train. His yotsh was to leave next morning." - -"Did he go alone?" - -"As far as I know," retorted Totty. "If Lady Balscombe went with him -you can see it in the papers. I know no more than that." - -"How often did Miss Sarschine call on Monday?" - -"Once, in the afternoon, to see Lord Calliston." - -"Did she see him?" - -"No, he was out, so she said she'd call again in the evening." - -"And did she?" - -"Yes; but Lord Calliston had gone about eight o'clock to catch his -train. I suppose she thought he wouldn't go till next morning." - -"Did she know he was going to elope with Lady Balscombe?" - -"Not that I know of." - -"Did she see anyone when she came the second time?" - -"Yes, Mr. Desmond, my lord's cousin." - -"What time was that?" - -"About twelve, between eleven and twelve." - -Dowker pondered a little. So she called here to see Calliston just -before she was murdered, and saw Desmond. Now the question was, what -had Desmond to do with the affair. - -"Was Mr. Desmond here on that evening by accident?" - -"No. He told me he had come to give Miss Sarschine a message from Lord -Calliston." - -"You did not overhear their conversation?" - -"Me," growled Tottie, indignantly, "I never listen--out when she was -leaving they were 'having a row." - -"About what time?" - -"I think at ten minutes after twelve." - -"Did she go out alone?" - -"Yes. Mr. Desmond followed shortly afterwards." - -"Did he say anything?" - -"No, not a word." - -Dowker felt puzzled. It was evident Desmond had given her a message -from Calliston that made her angry, and she left the house in a rage, -but then this did not connect anyone with a design to murder her. -Suddenly he remembered that Ellersby had mentioned that he had met -Desmond coming up St. James' Street a short time before the body was -found. Was it possible that he had killed Miss Sarschine and was then -coming away from the scene of his crime? Impossible, because the -doctor said the woman must have been dead some hours. And yet he might -have killed her and gone down St. James' Street to avert suspicion, -and then come up again when he thought the coast would be clear. -Unfortunately, he had met Ellersby and then--well, Dowker made up his -mind he would go and see Ellersby, find out what he could about the -meeting, and afterwards call on Myles Desmond. He, perhaps, might give -some satisfactory explanation of his interview with Miss Sarschine, -and account for his presence after the interview. If he did not, well, -it would appear suspicious. - -While these thoughts were rapidly passing through his mind, Totty had -her eyes fastened eagerly on him. - -"Well, now I've answered all your questions," she said, "perhaps -you'll tell me what it all means." - -"Murder!" - -Mrs. Povy became quite excited, for she had a keen relish for horrors. - -"Lor'! Who's dead--not Lord Calliston?" - -"No. Miss Sarschine." - -"Miss Sarschine!" - -"Yes. She was murdered shortly after she left these rooms and after -her interview with Mr. Desmond." - -"Oh, he is innocent, I'm sure," said Mrs. Povy eagerly. "What on earth -should he want to kill her for? Besides, he's in love with Miss -Penfold." - -"Oh, and she, I understand, was going to marry Lord Calliston." - -"I don't believe she'd ever have married him," said Tottie -disbelievingly; "she's that fond of Mr. Desmond, as never was. Where -are you going?" - -"To attend to business," replied Dowker, "and by the way, where does -Mr. Desmond live?" - -"You ain't going to arrest him for this murder?" shrieked Totty. - -"No--no--there's no evidence," retorted Dowker lightly. "Where does he -live?" - -"Primrose Crescent, in Bloomsbury," replied Mrs. Povy. The detective -took the address and went down stairs, followed by Mrs. Povy. - -"You don't think Mr. Desmond did it, sir?" began Totty, "for -a more----" - -"I don't think anything," said Dowker, putting on his hat. "You'll -hear soon enough what is done." - -As he hurried away Mrs. Povy shut the door and returned to her room, -where she implored Mrs. Swizzle to mix her a glass of brandy. - -"I've 'ad such a turn," she wailed, "as never was. Oh, it's a blessing -Povy died afore he saw his wife mixed up with them nasty police." - - - - -CHAPTER VI. -A SUCCESSFUL EXPERIMENT. - - -Dowker walked along Piccadilly thinking deeply about the curious -aspect the case was now assuming. As far as he could make out, Myles -Desmond was the last person who saw Miss Sarschine alive, and he -having gone out a few minutes after the interview, it seemed as though -he had followed her. The only thing to be done was to see Ellersby, -and as he was stopping at the Guelph Hotel Dowker went along in that -direction. He followed the same path as he surmised the dead woman -must have taken, but what puzzled him was the reason she had for going -into Jermyn Street. - -"After she found out Calliston had gone off with Lady Balscombe," he -muttered, "the most obvious course would be for her to go home, but -she evidently did not intend to do so. I wonder if she walked or took -a cab? Walked, I suppose. Let me see, it was a foggy night and she got -lost, that is the explanation. But then this man or woman she met; it -must have been a friend as she would hardly have stopped talking to a -stranger, unless indeed she asked the way. Lord," ejaculated Mr. -Dowker, suddenly stopping short, "fancy if this murder turns out to be -the work of some tramp, but no, that's bosh, tramps wouldn't use a -poisoned dagger--unless they took the one she carried. Hang it! it's -the most perplexing case I was ever in." - -He had by this time arrived at the Guelph Hotel and sent up his card -to Mr. Ellersby. The waiter soon returned with the information that -Mr. Ellersby was in and would see him, so he went upstairs and was -shown into a sitting-room. At one end near the window sat Spencer -Ellersby in a comfortable armchair smoking a pipe and reading a French -novel. A remarkably unpromising-looking bulldog lay at his feet and -arose with an ominous growl as Dowker entered the room. - -"Lie down Pickles," said Ellersby to this amiable animal, who obeyed -the command in a sulky manner. "Well, Mr. Dowker, what do you want to -see me about?" - -"That case, sir," said Dowker, taking a seat. - -"Oh, of course," replied Ellersby, shrugging his shoulders, "I guessed -as much. I thought I'd done with the whole affair at the inquest." - -"As far as it then went, sir," said the detective, quickly; "but I've -found out a lot since that time." - -"Ah, indeed! The name of the assassin?" - -"Not yet, sir--I'll do that later on--but the name of the victim." - -"Yes?--and it is----?" - -"Lena Sarschine." - -"Never heard of her. Who is she, what is she, and where does she -live?" - -"She was Lord Calliston's mistress," replied Dowker. "I think that -answers all the other questions." - -"Hum! A cottage in St. John's Wood--gilded vice, and all the rest of -it. And what was she doing in Jermyn Street that night?" - -"I don't know, sir. That's one of the things I've got to discover." - -"Well, what else have you found out, and how did you manage to acquire -your information?" - -"That was easy enough," said? Dowker confidentially. "I'll just tell -you all, sir, for I want you to give me some information." - -"Delighted--if I can." - -"As to the finding out, sir. The hat worn by the dead 'un had a ticket -inside, showing it was made by Madame Rêne, of Regent Street. I went -there, and found out it had been sold to a woman called Lydia Fenny, -of Cleopatra Villa, St. John's Wood. I, thinking Lydia Fenny was the -victim, went there and found that she was alive, and had lent the hat -to her mistress last Monday night." - -"Curious thing for a maid to lend her mistress clothes," said -Ellersby, smiling. "It's generally the reverse." - -"I think she did it for a disguise, sir," explained Dowker, "because -Miss Sarschine went to Lord Calliston's chambers in Piccadilly." - -"What for?" - -"To get information concerning his elopement with Lady Balscombe." - -"The deuce!" said Ellersby in astonishment. "This is becoming -interesting." - -"It will be still more so before it's done. I found out from Lydia -Fenny that Miss Sarschine discovered her lover was about to elope with -Lady Balscombe, so went to his chambers to prevent it She arrived too -late, as Lord Calliston had gone down to Shoreham by the ten minutes -past nine train from London Bridge Station. Instead of Lord Calliston -she found Mr. Desmond, his cousin, and I suppose he told her she was -too late, for there was a row royal, and she left the chambers at -twelve o'clock or thereabouts. Desmond followed shortly afterwards, -and that was the last seen of her alive, as far as I know." - -"Why? Didn't Miss Sarschine return home when she discovered Calliston -had gone off with Lady Balscombe?" - -"I can't tell you, sir; nor what took her to Jermyn Street, unless she -got lost in the fog, or there was another man in the case." - -"Eh? Nonsense! what other man could there have been?" - -"Well," said Dowker slowly, "there was Mr. Desmond." - -"Pshaw!" said Ellersby, springing to his feet. "What rubbish! I've -known Myles Desmond all my life, and he's not the fellow to commit -such a crime!" - -"Yet I understand before you found the body you met Mr. Desmond coming -up St. James's Street?" - -Spencer Ellersby swung round in a rage. - -"Confound you!" he said in an angry tone, "do you want me to give -evidence implicating my friend?" - -Dowker did not lose his temper. - -"No; but I want to know what took place between you on that night." - -"Simply nothing. He was in a hurry, and seemed annoyed at my stopping -him, but that was only natural on such a beastly night. I asked him to -call on me here, and also asked where Calliston was; he told me -yachting and then he went off. Nothing more took place." - -"Humph!" said Dowker thoughtfully. "It was curious he should have been -there at the time." - -"I don't see it at all. If you ask him, I've no doubt he'll give you a -good account of himself. Besides, he had no motive in murdering Miss -Sarschine--he is in love with Miss Penfold." - -"I don't say he deliberately murdered her," said Dowker quietly, "but -there might have been an accident. You see this?" taking the Malay -kriss out of his pocket and unwraping the papers. - -"Yes--a dagger. Is that the----" said Ellersby, recoiling. - -"No; but I shrewdly suspect it's the neighbour to it. Down at -Cleopatra Villa there were a lot of these sort of things hanging -against the wall, arranged in a kind of pattern. One side of the -pattern was incomplete, and I found out from Miss Fenny that Miss -Sarschine had taken one of the daggers, with a view to trying it on -Calliston if he did not give up his design of eloping. She was mad -with rage or she would never have thought of such an idea. -Well--cannot you guess what follows?--she has the dagger with -her--doubtless shows it to Myles Desmond during her stormy interview -with him, and leaves the house in a rage. He follows her to try -and take such a dangerous weapon from her--meets her in Jermyn -Street--struggles to get it, and in the scuffle wounds herself; -consequently she dies, and Myles Desmond keeps quiet lest he should be -accused of murder." - -"Seems possible enough," said Ellersby, resuming his seat, "but I -doubt its truth. However, the only thing to be done is to see Desmond, -and find out what took place at Calliston's rooms. But tell me, what -are you going to do with that other dagger?" - -"I want to find out if it's poisoned," said Dowker, handling it -gingerly. "If it is, it will show that the other weapon was the one -with which the crime was committed." - -"Will you allow me to look at it?" said Ellersby, stretching out his -hand. - -"Certainly," replied the detective, and rising to his feet, he walked -across to Ellersby to give him the dagger. Unluckily, however, just as -he was handing it to him he stepped on Pickles, who with a growl of -rage made a bite at his leg. In the sudden start Dowker let go the -dagger, which fell upon Pickles' back, inflicting a slight wound. - -The detective gave a yell as the bulldog gripped him, but Ellersby -pulled Pickles off, and Dowker, hobbling to a chair, sat down to nurse -his wounded leg. It was not much hurt, however, as Pickles had got a -mouthful of trousers instead of flesh. - -Alarmed as Dowker had been by the accident, he was not more alarmed -than Ellersby, who sprang to his feet with an oath and rang the bell -sharply. - -"Damn it!" he said furiously, "if that dagger is poisoned the dog will -die! How could you be such a fool?" - -"You'd be the same, sir, if a devil of a dog bit you," said Dowker -sulkily, not at all displeased at having the question of the dagger -tested at once. "I'm very sorry." - -"Sorry be hanged!" said Ellersby savagely. "I wouldn't lose that dog -for a hundred pounds. Here," to the waiter that entered, "send for a -doctor at once--don't lose time, confound you!" at which the -astonished waiter vanished promptly. - -Meanwhile all this time Pickles was lying down trying to lick his -wound, and evidently wondering what all the fuss was about. Dowker -watched him intently, and in a short time saw the dog was becoming -drowsy. Ellersby picked up the dagger and was about to hurl it -furiously back to Dowker, when the detective jumped up in alarm. - -"For God's sake, don't!" he cried; "I believe it is poisoned--look!" - -Ellersby looked, and saw Pickles trying to rise to his feet. He -evidently knew something was wrong with him, for he commenced to -whine, and a glaze came over his eyes. His master knelt down beside -him and dried the blood off the wound with his handkerchief, but it -was too late. The dog opened his jaws once or twice, tried to rise to -his feet, staggered, and fell over on his side, to all appearances -dead. On seeing this, Ellersby jumped to his feet and began to rage. - -"The devil take you and your case!" he said furiously, "you've killed -my dog." - -"I'm very sorry, sir," said Dowker, crossing and picking up the -dagger, "it was an accident." - -"An expensive accident for me," said Ellersby, bitterly; "at all -events it proves the dagger was poisoned." - -"Yes," said Dowker in a delighted tone, "so the crime must have been -committed with the other weapon, for if one was poisoned, it's only -common sense to assume the other was." - -He had apparently quite forgotten the loss sustained by Ellersby, for -there was no doubt the bulldog was quite dead. - -That gentleman looked at him in disgust. - -"Oh, go to the devil," he said, irritably, "and thank your stars I -don't make you pay for this." - -Dowker murmured something about an accident, then, slipping the fatal -dagger, once more covered in paper, into his pocket, he took his -departure. On his way down he met the doctor coming up, and once -outside, he was beside himself with joy at having proved the kriss to -be poisonous. - -"And now," he said, "I'll call and see Mr. Desmond." - - - - -CHAPTER VII. -A LITERARY ASPIRANT. - - -Primrose Crescent lies just off Tottenham Court Road, and though a -short distance away the great thoroughfare is full of noise and -bustle, everything is comparatively silent in this crescent. -Milk-carts are the most frequent vehicles, and occasionally a -rakish-looking hansom makes its appearance, while ragged mendicants -sometimes pay the neighbourhood a visit, and troll out lively ditties -in gin-cracked voices. The organ-grinder is not an unknown personage -either, and his infernal machine may frequently be heard playing the -latest music-hall melodies as he glances round in search of the humble -brown. - -The houses are somewhat dismal; tall--very tall, built of dull-hued -red brick, with staring windows and little iron balconies, meant for -show, not use. No Bloomsbury Juliet can lean over the ornamental -ironwork and whisper sweet nothings to Romeo; if she did, Juliet would -forthwith be precipitated into the basement, where dwells the servant -of the house in company with the domestic cat, and the love-scene -would end within the prosaic walls of a hospital. - -There are a good many boarding-houses to be found in Primrose -Crescent, where City clerks, literary aspirants and coming actors are -to be found. A touch of Bohemianism pervades the whole street, and -perhaps in the future, neat tablets let into the walls of the houses -will inform posterity that Horatio Muggins, the celebrated poet, and -Simon Memphison, the famous actor, resided there. But fame is as yet -far from the quiet street, and the dwellers therein are still -struggling upward or downward as their inclinations may lead them. - -Mrs. Mulgy was the landlady of one of these boarding-houses, and by -dint of hard work and incessant watchfulness managed to keep the wolf -from the door; but, alas, the wolf was never far off, and it took all -Mrs. Mulgy's time to keep him at his distance. The basement of her -mansion was devoted to the kitchen, the presiding deity of which was a -pale, thin-looking servant, with a hungry eye and a deprecating -manner, who answered to the name of Rondalina, which sounded well and -cost nothing. She used to ascend from the kitchen like a ghost from -the tomb, wander about the house to minister to the wants of the -boarders, and then return to the grave, or rather the kitchen, once -more. A rising musician occupied the ground-floor, who went to bed -very early in the morning, and got up very late in the afternoon. He -was writing an opera which was to make his name, but meantime devoted -his spare moments to instructing small children in the art of music, -which tried his temper greatly, and rendered him morose. On the first -floor dwelt Mr. Myles Desmond, whose occupation was that of a -journalist, and, being good-looking, smartly dressed and well -connected, was Mrs. Mulgy's trump-card in the way of lodgers. Above -was the habitation of a maiden lady, by name Miss Jostler, who called -herself an artist, and painted fire-screens, Xmas cards and such like -things, with conventional landscapes and flowers. In the attics lived -several young men who, having no money and plenty of spirits, formed -quite a little colony of Bohemians, being principally concerned with -theatricals and literary life. - -It was a queer place altogether, and the individuals were a kind of -happy family except that they did not mix much with one another, but -they all paid their bills comparatively regular, and so Mrs. Mulgy was -content. - -It was to this place that Mr. Dowker took his way the day after his -interview with Ellersby. As he had seen Madame Rêne, Lydia Fenny, Mrs. -Povy, and Mr. Ellersby all in one day, and obtained valuable -information from each, he thought he would defer his call on Mr. -Desmond, and spent the night in arranging all the evidence he had -acquired during the day. The result was very satisfactory to himself, -and he wended his steps towards Mr. Desmond's abode in a very happy -frame of mind. - -It was about eleven o'clock, and Myles Desmond sat in his sitting-room -scribbling an article for a society journal, called _Asmodeus_, -published for the express purpose of unroofing people's houses, and -exposing to the world their private life. Not that Desmond did such a -thing, he would have scorned to violate the sanctity of private life, -but he wrote for all kinds of magazines and papers, and as _Asmodeus_ -paid well, he now and then wrote them a smart essay on existing evils, -or a cynical social story. - -He was a tall young man, with reddish hair and moustache, a clever, -intellectual face, perhaps not actually good-looking, but a face that -attracted attention, and when he chose to exert himself, he could talk -excellently on the current topics of the day. His breakfast lay on the -table, untouched, he having only swallowed a cup of coffee, and then -pushed the table-cloth aside to make room for his papers. Dressed in -an old smoking-suit, he leaned one elbow on the table occasionally, -ran his fingers through his hair and wrote rapidly, only stopping -every now and then to relight his pipe. He was engaged in writing an -essay on "Cakes and Ale," and satirising the vices of a new school of -novelists, who, in their desire to become pure and wholesome, had gone -to the other extreme and taken all the masculine vigour out of their -productions. - -Myles looked worn and haggard, as if he had been up all night, and -every now and then his swift pen would stop as he pondered over some -thought. There was a ring at the bell below, but he took no notice. -This was followed shortly afterwards by a knock at the door, and -Rondalina glided in, saying a gentleman wished to see him. - -"Show him in," said Myles, not looking up. "Wonder who it can be," he -muttered, as Rondalina went out; "hang those fellows, they won't even -let me have the morning to myself." - -When the door opened he glanced up and saw that the new corner was not -a friend, but a tall, grey man whom he did not know. Myles paused with -his pen in his hand, and waited for his visitor to speak, looking at -him interrogatively meanwhile. - -Mr. Dowker--tor of course it was he--closed the door carefully, and -advancing to the table, introduced himself in two words: - -"Dowker--detective!" - -If Myles looked haggard before, he looked still more so now. His face -grew pale, and he shot an enquiring glance at his visitor, who stood -looking mournfully at him. Then, throwing down his pen in an irritable -manner, he arose to his feet. - -"Well, Mr. Dowker?" he said a little nervously. "You want to see me." - -"I do--very particularly," replied Dowker, coolly taking a seat, "and -believe you can guess what it's about." - -Myles drew his brows together, and shook his head. "No. I'm afraid I -can't," he said coldly. - -"The Jermyn Street murder." - -Myles gave a kind of gasp, and turned away towards the mantel-piece, -ostensibly to fill his pipe, but in reality to conceal his agitation. - -"Well," he said in an unsteady voice, "and what have I to do with it?" - -"That's what I want to know," said Dowker imperturbably. - -Myles Desmond glanced keenly at him, lighted his pipe, resumed his -seat at the table, and leaning his elbows thereon, stared coolly at -the detective. - -"You speak in riddles," he said quietly. - -"Humph!" answered Dowker meaningly, "perhaps you can guess them." - -"Not till you explain them more fully," retorted Desmond. - -It was evidently a duel between the two men, and they both felt it to -be so. Dowker wanted to find out something, which Desmond knew, and -Desmond on his side was equally determined to hold his tongue. The -cleverest man would win in the end, so Dowker began the battle at -once. - -"The woman who was murdered was your cousin's mistress, Lena -Sarschine." - -"Indeed!" said Desmond, with a start of surprise. "May I ask how you -know?" - -"That is not the point," retorted Dowker quickly. "I have satisfied -myself as to the identity of the murdered woman--you were the last -person who saw her alive." - -"Is that so?" - -"Yes, at Lord Calliston's chambers, between eleven and twelve o'clock -on Monday night." - -"Who says I saw her?" - -"Mrs. Povy." - -Myles Desmond's lip curled. - -"You seem to have obtained all your information beforehand," he said -with a sneer; "perhaps you'll tell me what you want to know from me?" - -"First--did you see Miss Sarschine on Monday?" - -"Yes! I did, but in the afternoon, not at night." - -"But Mrs. Povy said she called on you there, on Monday night." - -"Mrs. Povy is mistaken, I did not see her." - -"Did you see anyone at that time?" - -"That's my business." - -"Pardon me," said Dowker ironically, "but it's mine also. -You had better answer my questions or you may find yourself in an -uncommonly awkward fix." - -"Oh! so you mean to accuse me of Lena Sarschine's murder." - -"That depends," replied Dowker ambiguously; "tell me what you did on -Monday night." - -Myles thought a moment, and seeing his perilous position resolved to -answer. - -"I went to the Frivolity Theatre, then to the office of the newspaper, -_Hash_, and afterwards----" - -"Well?" - -"I went along to Lord Calliston's rooms, about half-past ten." - -"I thought so, and why did you go there?" - -"Not to commit a crime," retorted Desmond coolly, "but only to arrange -some papers for my cousin--he had gone down to Shoreham by the ten -minutes past nine train." - -"Did you see him off?" - -"No." - -"Then how did you know he went?" - -"Because he said he was going." - -"With Lady Balscombe?" - -"I know nothing about that," said Desmond coldly, "he went--as far as -I know--by himself. I was at his chambers to arrange his papers, and -after I had done so, I left." - -"Did no one call while you were there?" - -"Yes," reluctantly. - -"A lady?" - -"Well, a woman," evasively. - -"Miss Sarschine?" - -"No, it was not Miss Sarschine, that I can swear to." - -"Then who was it?" - -"No one having anything to do with this case--a friend of my own." - -"I must know the name." - -"I refuse to tell you." - -Both men looked steadily at one another, and then Dowker changed the -subject. - -"Why did you quarrel with your friend?" - -"That is my business." - -"Oh! and what time did your friend leave?" - -"Shortly after twelve." - -"And you?" - -"Went a few minutes afterwards." - -"You came home?" - -"After a time--yes." - -"Where did you go in the meantime?" - -"I refuse to answer." - -"Then I can tell you--down St. James' Street." - -Myles Desmond uttered an oath, and asked sharply: - -"Who told you that?" - -"No one; but Mr. Ellersby met you coming up shortly after two -o'clock." - -"Yes, I did meet him there." - -"Why did you not go straight home?" - -Desmond seemed to be trying to think of something--at last with an -effort he said: - -"I was afraid my friend might get lost in the fog, and followed her -down St. James' Street, then I lost sight of her, and after a time -came up St. James' Street, where I met Ellersby. I did not see my -friend again, so I came home." - -"You did not see your friend after she left Lord Calliston's -chambers?" - -"No, I did not!" said Desmond, with a sudden flush. - -"That's a lie," thought Dowker, eyeing him sharply, then he said out -aloud: - -"You have answered all my questions except the most important ones." - -"I have answered all I intend to answer." - -"Then you refuse to give me the name of the woman whom you saw on -Monday night?" - -"Yes!" - -"Mrs. Povy is certain it was Miss Sarschine." - -"As I said before, Mrs. Povy is mistaken." - -"Do you know I can arrest you on suspicion?" - -"You have no grounds to go upon." - -"You were the person who last saw the deceased alive." - -"Pardon me. I deny that I saw the deceased at all on that night." - -"Mrs. Povy can prove it." - -"Then let Mrs. Povy do so." - -Dowker grew angry--the self-possession and coolness of this young man -annoyed him--so he resolved for the present to temporise. - -"Well, well, Mr. Desmond, I suppose you can give a good account of -yourself on that night?" - -"Certainly, to the proper authorities." - -"Good morning," said Dowker, and walked out of the room. When he got -into the street he strolled along a little way, thinking deeply. - -"Confound him! He knows something," he said to himself, "and refuses -to tell. I won't lose sight of him, so I must get that little devil, -Flip, to look after him. I'll look him up now, and start him at once." - -Just as he was about to put this resolve into execution he saw the -door of the house he had just left open, and the servant came out with -a piece of paper in her hand, which the keen-eyed detective saw was a -telegraph form. - -"Hullo!" said Dowker to himself. "I wonder if Mr. Desmond's sending -that. I'll just find out." - -Rondalina went along to the little post-office at the end of the -street, and turned in. Shortly afterwards, Dowker followed, and, going -to the counter, took a telegraph form as if to send a telegram. The -girl was attending to someone else, and Rondalina, with the telegram -opened out before her, was waiting her turn. Dowker dexterously leaned -across her to get a pen, and glanced rapidly at the telegram, which he -read in a moment: - - "PENFOLD, - - "c/o Balscombe, Park Lane, - "Meet me Marble Arch three o'clock, - "MYLES." - -Dowker sent a fictitious telegram, and then strolled leisurely out. - -"Hum!" he said, thoughtfully. "That's the girl he wants to marry. I -wonder what are his reasons for seeing her to-day. I'd like to -overhear their conversation. Can't go myself, as he knows me, so Flip -will be the very person." - -And Dowker departed to find Flip. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. -A JUVENILE DETECTIVE. - - -Flip was a small dried-up looking boy, born and brought up in a London -slum. He had no parents--at least, none that he could remember, and -had he been asked how he came into existence, he would probably have -answered Topsy-like that he "growed." His mother and father had both -deserted him at an early age, giving him nothing to remember them by, -not even a name, so he was thrown on the world a squalling brat. -Nevertheless, he managed to get along somehow to the age of fifteen, -at which period of his life Dowker chanced on him, and his prospects -began to improve. - -Dowker, underneath his drab exterior, concealed a kind heart, and, -having met Flip one night in the rain, had taken compassion on the -miserable morsel of humanity, and given him a cup of coffee to warm -him and a roll of bread to satisfy his hunger. Flip was so touched at -this disinterested kindness that he attached himself with dog-like -fidelity to the detective, and tried to serve him to the best of his -small ability. - -Having had to fight his way in the world, Flip had developed a -wonderful sharpness of intellect at a very early age, and Dowker -turned this hunger-educated instinct to good account, for he often set -the little urchin to follow cabs, run messages, and do other small -matters which he required. Flip performed all these duties so well and -promptly that Dowker began to take an interest in him, and set to work -to cultivate this stunted flower which had sprung up amid the evil -weeds of the slums. He had a meeting place appointed with Flip in -Drury Lane, and, whenever he wanted him, went there to seek him out. -Flip listened to his patron's instructions carefully, and, having a -wonderfully tenacious memory of an uncivilized kind, he never forgot -what he was told. In return for services rendered, Dowker gave him a -shilling a week, and on this small sum Flip managed to exist, with -occasional help from casual passers-by. - -Dowker did not give him an education or dress him in decent clothes, -as he thought this would spoil his instinct and appearance, both of -which were essentially useful in their own particular way, so Flip -remained ragged and ignorant; but it was his patron's intention to -give him a chance of rising in the world when he grew older. - -He had no name except Flip, and the origin of that was a mystery--no -clothes except a pair of baggy trousers and a tattered shirt--and his -home was a noisome den in the purlieus of Drury Lane. His language was -bad, so was his conduct; yet this small scrap of neglected humanity -had in him the makings of a useful member of society. There are many -such in London, but the Christians of England prefer to help the -savages who don't want them to the savages who do. The Chickaboo -Indians have existed for centuries without morals, religion, or -clothes, and can very well exist for a longer period while the ragged -denizens of the most civilized city in the world are being relieved. - -Everyone in London knows Drury Lane, that quaint, dirty narrow street -leading to the Strand. The very name conjures up the shades of Siddons -and Garrick, and the neighbourhood is sacred to the Dramatic Muse. Who -has not seen that weather-stained picturesque house from the window of -which gossipy old Pepys saw Mistress Nell Gwynne leaning out and -watching the milkmaids go down to the Strand Maypole for the pleasant -old English dance. But, alas! Nell and the milkmaids with their quaint -chronicler have long since passed into the outer darkness--even the -Maypole has become but a memory, yet the grim tumble down house still -remains in the dirty lane. - -'Tis a far cry from Charles to Victoria, and the merry milkmaids -with their clinking pails have given place to frowsy old women, -battered-looking young ones, and a ragged mixture of men and boys. Not -an unpicturesque scene, this dilapidated-looking crowd, slouching over -the rugged stones, and an artist would have stopped and admired them, -but Dowker was not an artist, so looked not for scenic effect, but for -Flip. - -Flip was sitting considering at the edge of the pavement with his -feet, for the sake of coolness, in the gutter, and his eyes fixed on -three dirty pennies lying in his own dirty brown palm. - -"'Am," said Flip, deliberating over the expenditure of his fortune. -"'Am an' bread, an' a swig o' beer--my h'eye, wot a tuck h'out I'll -'ave. 'Ere," suddenly, as Dowker touched him with his foot, "what the -blazes are you kicking? Why I'm blest if 'taint the guv'nor." - -He jumped to his feet, and slipped the pennies into the waistband of -his trousers, which did duty with him for a pocket. - -"Wot's h'up, guv'nor," he asked with a leer. Flip's leer was not -pleasant--it had such an unholy appearance, "more larks--my h'eye, I -thort I'd never twig you agin. 'Ave you bin h'over the gardin-wall -arter a prig?" - -"Hold your tongue," said Dowker sharply. "I want you to do something -for me--are you hungry?" - -"Not much," said Flip coolly, "but I don't mind a 'am san'wich." - -Dowker cast a sharp glance at the ragged little figure walking beside -him. - -"Where have you been getting money?" he asked. - -"My h'eye, it's a rigler game," said Flip, rubbing his grimy hands -together, as they turned into a ham and beef shop, "I'll tell yer -all--'am I'll 'ave, an' bread." - -Being supplied with these luxuries at the expense of Dowker, Flip -stuffed his mouth with a liberal portion and then began to talk. - -"Larst Monday," he began. - -"Ha," said Dowker, suddenly recollecting the date of the murder, -"yesterday?" - -"No, the Monday afore," said Flip, "it were at nite, h'awful foggy, my -h'eye, a rigler corker it were. I was as 'ungry as a bloomin' tyke an' -couldn't find you nohow, so h'up I goes to Soho to see h'old Jem Mux, -you know's 'im, guv'nor, the cove as keeps the 'Pink 'Un.'" - -"Yes, the sporting pub," replied Dowker. - -"Same game," said Flip, "'e gives me sumat to eat when I arsks it, so -I goes h'up to cadge some wictuals, I gits cold meat, my h'eye, prime, -an' bread an' beer, so when I 'ad copped the grub, I was a-gittin' -away h'out of the bar when a swell cove comes in--lor' what a -swell--fur coat an' a shiny 'at. Ses 'e to the gal, ses 'e, 'Is that -'ere sparrin' comin' ort this evenin'?' 'Yes, says she, 'in the -drorin'-room.' 'Right you h'are,' ses 'e, 'I want to see it afore I -leave Hengland. I was a-goin' down to my yotsh,' ses 'e, but I'll put -it orf till to-morrow as I wants to see this set to,' then 'e twigs me -an' ses 'e, 'Are you cold?' 'Yes,' ses I. ''Ungry?' 'Not much,' ses I. -''Ere's some tin for you, you pore little devil,' an' I'm blessed if -'e didn't tip me a sov, so I've bin livin' like a dook on it since I -sawr you--nice game, ain't it, guv'nor?" - -During this recital Dowker had not paid much attention till Flip spoke -of the yacht, then he suddenly pricked up his ears, for it dawned on -him that this unknown benefactor of Flip's might possibly be Lord -Calliston. - -"Monday night he was going out of town," murmured Dowker, "but he was -always a sporting blade, so perhaps he stopped for this fight and then -went down next morning. I wonder where he met Lady Balscombe. Ah, -well, it's nothing to do with the murder at all events; but I'd like -to know if he really did leave town on the night." - -Then he turned to Flip. - -"Did the swell see Jem Mux?" he asked sharply. - -"Rather," said Flip, "an' Jem 'e called 'im my lord, so 'e must 'ave -been a bloomin' blindin' toff." - -"My lord," repeated Dowker thoughtfully. "Oh! no doubt it was Lord -Calliston. I wonder if he's had anything to do with the death of his -mistress, it's curious if he stopped in town all night that he didn't -go back to his chambers. About what time was this?" he asked aloud. - -"About nine," said Flip promptly, "or harf-parst." - -"Nine," echoed Dowker; "then in that case he must have stayed in town -all night, as the last train to Shoreham is about half-past. I'll look -into this business, but meantime I want to find out Desmond's little -game." - -Flip had now finished, his meal and was waiting impatiently for -instructions from his chief. - -"Wot's h'up, guv'nor?" he asked, his black beady eyes fixed on the -detective. - -Dowker glanced at his watch. - -"It's about two," he said, replacing it, "and I want you to meet me at -the Marble Arch about a quarter to three." - -"Wot for?" - -"To follow a lady and gentleman and overhear what they say," said -Dowker; "I'll show you whom I mean. Don't lose a word of their -conversation and then repeat it all to me." - -"I'm fly," said Flip with a wink, and then this curiously assorted -pair departed, Dowker to his office for a few minutes, and Flip to -wend his way to the rendezvous at the Marble Arch. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. -THE LANGUAGE OF LOVE. - - -May Penfold was a very pretty girl, tall and fair-haired, with a pair -of merry blue eyes, and a charming complexion. Her parents died when -she was young and left her to the guardianship of Sir Rupert -Balscombe, who certainly fulfilled his trust admirably. He had her -well educated both intellectually and physically, so when she made her -_début_ in London Society she was much admired. An accomplished -musician and linguist, a daring horse-woman and a kindly disposition, -it was no wonder that she was much sought after; but when added to -these gifts it was also discovered that she possessed twenty thousand -a year in her own right, she became the catch of the season, and many -were the attempts made by hard-up scions of noble houses to secure her -hand in marriage. - -But alas, for the contrary disposition of womankind, she would have -none of the gilded youth but fixed her affections on Myles Desmond, a -poor Irish gentleman, with nothing to recommend him but a handsome -face, a clever brain and a witty tongue. In vain Lord Calliston asked -her to be his wife, she coolly refused him, telling the astonished -nobleman that neither his morals nor his manners were to her liking, -and informed Sir Rupert that she intended to marry Myles Desmond. - -The baronet was furious at this declaration, and as May was under age -and could not marry without her guardian's consent, he forbad Myles -the house and ordered his ward not to speak to him. But see how the -duplicity of love can circumvent the watchfulness of guardians. May -and Myles met secretly in the Park, at garden parties, and at balls, -whenever they chose, and so cleverly did they manage their meetings -that Sir Rupert never for a moment suspected the truth. He wanted his -ward to marry Calliston, but when that fickle young man ran off with -Lady Balscombe he changed his tune altogether, and had May been clever -enough to have taken advantage of his dismay, he would doubtless have -consented to her union with Myles despite the disadvantages of the -match. Sir Rupert was paralysed at the scandal caused by his wife's -elopement. He was deeply in love with her, and having known Calliston -from his boyhood it had never entered his head that such a thing could -happen. He was a very proud man, and when he discovered the elopement -he shut himself up in his library, refusing to see anyone. The guilty -pair had gone to the Azores, and knowing that sooner or later they -would return to England, he awaited their coming with the intention of -divorcing his treacherous wife and punishing her seducer. - -Sir Rupert having taken up this position, May was left a good deal to -herself, and as the whole affair caused such a scandal she, as a ward -of Balscombe's, refused to go out into society until some definite -settlement of the matter had been arrived at. She had written several -times to Myles asking him to see her, but on some plea or another he -had always refused to come, much to her bewilderment. When she -received his telegram asking her to meet him at the Marble Arch, she -was delighted; and slipping out of the house in Park Lane, went to -keep her appointment. - -At this time of the year there were comparatively few people in town -who knew her nevertheless, for the sake of safety, she dressed herself -plainly in a dark dress and wore a thick veil which concealed her -face. Thus disguised she had no fear of being recognised, and arrived -at the rendezvous about five minutes past three o'clock. There she -found Myles waiting for her and they walked together into the Park, -feeling perfectly secure from interruption or detection. But they did -not know that they were being shadowed by a small ragged boy who was -apparently playing idly about them. - -Dowker recognising Myles pointed him out to Flip and departed at once, -lest he should by seen by Desmond, so when Flip saw May join the young -Irishman he knew it was the couple whose conversation he was there to -overhear and followed them promptly. - -Myles and Miss Penfold walked a short distance into the Park and then -seated themselves for a while--two ordinary looking figures not -calculated to attract much notice, for, the day being cold, Myles was -muffled up in a large ulster and May's dress, as previously noticed, -was not conspicuous. - -Flip sat down on the grass at the back of them, apparently engaged in -spelling out a dirty bit of newspaper, but in reality drinking in -every word the lovers uttered. - -They were continuing a conversation begun when they first met. - -"Does this man suspect you?" said May, evidently referring to Dowker. - -"I'm afraid so," he replied gloomily, "and I cannot open my mouth to -defend myself." - -"Why?" - -"Because my only defence would be an explanation of the events of that -night, and I cannot explain." - -"Why not?" - -He remained silent, at which the girl turned pale. - -"Is there any reason--strong reason?" - -"Yes." - -"Is that reason--a woman?" - -Myles bowed his head. - -Miss Penfold grew a shade paler and laughed bitterly. - -"A pleasant reason to give me," she said, with a sneer. "I have -given up all else for your sake, because I thought you loved me, and -you--you--talk of another woman to me." - -"This is nonsense," he answered impatiently. "There is no love in the -case; it simply involves the breaking of a promise given to a woman, -and you would be the last to ask me to do that. Can you not believe in -my honour?" - -May looked at him doubtfully. - -"Can I believe in any man's honour?" she replied sadly. - -"That depends who the man is," answered Myles quietly. "It is simply a -case of Lovelace over again: - - "'I would not love thee dear so much, - Loved I not honour more.' - -"It is absurd--quixotic--ridiculous--to talk about honour in these -days, I grant you, but unfortunately I inherit loyal blood, and--well, -I must ask you to trust me till I can speak." - -"And you will speak?" - -"Yes; if it comes to the worst," he replied with a slight shiver. - -The girl gave him her hand, which he took and pressed slightly. So -thus, mutely, they made up their quarrel. - -All the foregoing conversation about honour was Greek to Flip, who, -after some cogitation, came to the conclusion it was a scene out of a -play. But now they began to talk on a subject more suited to his -comprehension. - -"May," said Myles, "I want you to tell me all that Lady Balscombe did -on--on that night." - -"The night when she eloped?" - -"Yes." - -"Let me see," said May, knitting her pretty brows, "we went to a -ball--to Lady Kerstoke's." - -"At what time?" - -"Between nine and ten." - -"And what time did you leave?" - -"Very early--about half past ten; in fact, we were there only a few -minutes. Lady Balscombe said she had a headache and went home. You -know our house is only a few doors away. I expect she only went there -to avert suspicion as to her elopement." - -"What happened when she came home?" - -"There was a woman waiting to see her in her boudoir." - -"A woman?" repeated Desmond; "who was she?" - -"I don't know; I didn't even see her. She saw Lady Balscombe and then -left the house, between eleven and twelve." - -"How do you know?" - -"My maid told me." - -"And what time did Lady Balscombe leave?" - -"I don't know. I did not see her again that night. She went to bed -because of her headache, and, I suppose, departed early in the morning -to catch the train to Shoreham." - -"Where was Sir Rupert all this time?" - -"He had been down in Berkshire, but arrived some time before -twelve--he and Lady Balscombe had quarrelled lately and occupied -different rooms. Besides, he went off to his club on arriving in town, -so he would not know of her flight till the morning." - -"Did she leave a letter for him?" - -"I suppose so; but why do you ask all these questions?" - -"Because I want to save my neck, if possible. The woman who was -murdered is said to be Lena Sarschine, whom I saw during the day. I -saw a woman in Calliston's rooms on the same night, whom the detective -thinks was the same person. Now, between the time I left the chambers -and the time I met Spencer Ellersby I was wandering about the streets -and, as I spoke to no one, I cannot prove an alibi. Ellersby met me -coming up St. James' Street, and the scene of the crime was not far -off, so, if I am arrested, circumstances will tell very hard against -me. Nobody will believe my assertion that I did not see the dead woman -that night, and I cannot prove it without breaking my promise." - -"I see what you mean, but what has Lady Balscombe to do with it?" - -"Simply this. I am anxious to find out if Calliston really left town -on that night, because I want to know if he had anything to do with -the death of his mistress. He left his chambers to catch the ten -minutes past nine train from London Bridge; but did he catch it? -I think not, because he would not have left town without Lady -Balscombe, and from your own showing, she did not leave her house till -early on Tuesday morning. So I think Calliston must have remained in -town at some hotel, where she joined him, and they went down to -Shoreham by the first train in the morning." - -"But you don't think Calliston killed this woman?" - -"No, I don't think so," he answered thoughtfully. "I really don't -think so, but I would like to have all his movements on that night -accounted for. As for myself, I am in a very awkward position, for, if -arrested, I cannot extricate myself from it till Calliston returns." - -"Why?" - -"Because till his yacht comes back I cannot prove my innocence." - -"But you are innocent?" - -"Yes; can you doubt me?" - -"I was certain of it." - -"I hope the jury of twelve good and lawful men will be as certain," he -replied grimly, as they walked away. - -Flip followed them at a distance, but only caught scraps of -conversation which seemed to him to be about trivial matters. So, with -all the conversation he had heard in the Park indelibly inscribed on -his brain, Flip darted away, to give his patron an accurate report and -thus add another link to the chain which was gradually encircling the -murderer of Lena Sarschine. - - - - -CHAPTER X. -THE MISSING LINK. - - -Flip, having a wonderfully tenacious memory, did not forget the -conversation he had overheard between Myles and Miss Penfold; so going -to his patron's office, he repeated it in due course to Dowker. The -result was that the detective became much exercised in his mind over -the whole affair. He could not understand Desmond's refusal to tell -the name of the woman he saw on the night of the murder. True, Desmond -denied it was Lena Sarschine, but then his denial went for nothing, as -he would do so to save himself from suspicion. Mrs. Povy said Lena -Sarschine had been there between eleven and twelve, and it was -unlikely she would be wrong, seeing how well acquainted she was with -the appearance of the dead woman. But then, judging from the drift of -Desmond's remarks, his refusal to speak was dictated by a desire to -screen the honour of a woman. If so, it could not have been Lena -Sarschine, for she had no honour to lose, and his refusal to speak -would be a piece of Quixotism, which he, as a man of the world, would -be one of the first to recognize. At this moment, a sudden thought -flashed across Dowker's mind--could it have been Lady Balscombe -herself who had the interview with Desmond? Here, indeed, would be a -strong motive for Desmond to keep silence, as the visit of a lady to a -bachelor's rooms at night would endanger her reputation. Lady -Balscombe had, it is true, flung reputation to the winds, but on -Monday night it would not have been too late to save her, so if she -had seen Desmond, he might have tried to persuade her to give up the -elopement, and failed. - -"I think I see it all," said Dowker, musingly. "She was to have met -Lord Calliston on that night to go down by the nine train, but went to -the ball first to avoid suspicion. He got tired of waiting for her, -and went off to The Pink 'Un.' She would have let him know her plans -by telegram, and called at his rooms after the ball to explain. He was -away and did not get the telegram, so when she arrived at the rooms -she found Desmond. He tried to persuade her to go back; she refuses, -and after some angry words goes out in a rage, stays all night -somewhere, and goes down to Shoreham in the morning, but all this does -not explain Lena Sarschine's death. It can't be possible that Lady -Balscombe killed her--no, it can't be that--there is no connection -between the two." - -He ran over in his mind the principal items of the conversation as -reported by Flip, and his thoughts took a new turn. - -"Lady Balscombe did not leave her house in Park Lane till after -midnight, so that would not have given her time to be at Lord -Calliston's chambers and have an interview with Desmond, therefore it -cannot have been her. I wish I could find out the name of the Woman -who saw Desmond, and I'd also like to know the name of the woman who -saw Lady Balscombe on that night, and discover what was the exact time -Lady Balscombe left the house--let me see." - -He took out his note-book, and wrote the following memoranda: - -1. To find out name of woman who called at Calliston's chambers on -Monday (night of murder) between eleven and twelve. - -This could only be proved by Myles Desmond himself, as Mrs. Povy -asserted it was Lena Sarschine, and Desmond denied it; therefore there -was a dead-lock--affirmation and denial. - -Memo.--To see Desmond and find out name of visitor. - -2. To ascertain appearance and, if possible, name of woman who visited -Lady Balscombe on night of murder, as it might possibly have some -bearing on case. - -A servant in Lady Balscombe's house could probably furnish this -information. - -Memo--To try and find out said servant. - -3. To discover exact time Lady Balscombe left her house on Tuesday -morning, also ascertain subsequent movements. This would also have to -be discovered through a servant--as to finding out subsequent -movements, discover, if possible, train she left London by, and what -she did between time of leaving her house and leaving by train. - -Memo.--These discoveries must be left to future developments of case. - -4. To find out what has become of missing dagger. - -Possibly this might be discovered in Desmond's possession. - -Mem.--Search his room--secretly--employ agent--say Flip. - -5. To search out early life of Lena Sarschine! - -Might be discovered in a small measure from Lydia Fenny, who, being -confidential maid, might possibly have gathered information from -casual remarks. - -Mem.--To see Lydia Fenny. - -Having thus arranged his plan of action satisfactorily, Dowker turned -his attention to Number four of his memoranda, and proceeded to tell -Flip what he wanted him to do. - -"You see this?" asked Dowker, showing Flip the dagger he had -abstracted from Cleopatra Villa. - -Flip intimated by a vigorous nod of his head that he did. - -"I've got an idea," explained Dowker smoothly, "that a dagger very -similar to this is to be found in the possession of Mr. Myles Desmond, -the gentleman you saw to-day, so I want you by some means to get into -his rooms and find out if it's there." - -Flip screwed his face into a look of profound thought, and then smiled -in a satisfied manner. - -"I'll do it, Guv'nor," he said, sagaciously. - -"How?" asked Dowker, curious to learn how this juvenile detective -proposed to deal with the problem. - -"I'll doss on his doorstep to-night," said Flip, "and when he comes -'ome do a 'perish'--you knows"--in an explanatory tone--"say I'm dyin' -for victuals--'e'll take me inside, and when I gits there you leave me -alone, guv'nor, I'm fly!" - -"Well, you can manage it as you please," said Dowker. "But don't you -prick yourself with it, as it's poisoned, and Flip, if you bring me -this dagger without him knowing about it, I'll give you half a sov." - -"Done, Guv'nor!" said Flip, joyfully, and bidding adieu to his patron, -went off to get something to eat and prepare his plan of action. - -It was now about six o'clock and very dark, the sky being overcast -with clouds. Soon it began to rain steadily, and the streets became -sloppy and dismal. Flip drew his rags round him, shivered a little in -a professional manner, and then, going off to a cook-shop he -patronised in Drury Lane, had a hunch of bread and a steaming cup of -coffee for a small sum. - -Being thus prepared for his work, Flip wiped his mouth, and, sallying -forth into the dirty Lane, took his way up to Bloomsbury, combining -business with pleasure by begging on the road. - -Turning into Primrose Crescent, he soon found the house he wanted, and -curling himself up on the doorstep, waited patiently for chance to -deliver Myles into his designing hands. - -The rain continued to pour down steadily, and as it was now dark Flip -could see the windows all along the street being lighted up. The -gas-lamps also shone brightly through the rain, and were reflected in -dull, blurred splashes on the pavements. Occasionally a gentleman -would hurry past with his umbrella up, and a ragged tramp would slouch -along singing a dismal ditty. It was dreary waiting, but Flip was used -to such times, and sat quite contented, thinking how he could lay out -his promised half-sovereign to the best advantage, till his quick ear -caught the sound of footsteps inside. - -This was his cue, so he immediately lay down on the wet stones, and -commenced to moan dismally: Myles opened the door, and would have -stumbled over him, for he was right in front of the entrance after the -fashion of the clown in the pantomime, only he caught sight of him in -time. - -"Hullo," said Myles crossly, "what the deuce is the matter?" - -Flip made no reply to this, but groaned with renewed vigour, upon -which Desmond, who was a kind-hearted man, bent down and touched the -ragged little figure. - -"Are you ill?" he asked gently. - -"Oh, lor'--awful--my insides," groaned Flip pressing his dirty hands -on his stomach. "Ain't 'ad a bit for days." - -Myles was doubtful as to the genuineness of this case as he knew how -deceptive tramps are, but as the poor lad did seem in pain, and it was -raining heavily, he determined to give him the benefit of the doubt. - -"Can you rise?" he asked sharply, "if so get up and come inside. I'll -give you something to do you good." - -With many groans and asseverations of extreme pain Flip struggled to -his feet, and aided by Myles went inside, up the stairs, and was at -last safely deposited on the hearthrug in front of the fire, where he -lay and groaned with great dramatic effect. - -"I'll give you some hot port wine," said Myles, going to the sideboard -and taking out a glass and a bottle, "so I'll have to go downstairs -and get some hot water--you wait here." - -Flip groaned again and gyrated on the floor like a young eel; but when -the door had closed behind his benefactor, he sprang to his feet and -took a survey of the room. - -It was a large and lofty apartment, with a pair of folding doors on -one side, which being half open showed Flip that the other room was a -bed-room. - -There was a sideboard in the sitting-room and near this a -writing-table, towards which Flip darted and commenced to turn over -the papers rapidly with the idea of finding the dagger hidden -underneath. - -Nothing however rewarded his efforts, and though he looked into the -sideboard, examined the book-case and lifted up the covers of the -chairs, he found no sign of the weapon. - -"Must be in the bed-room," thought Flip, scratching his head in -perplexity and wondering how he could get in, when suddenly it -occurred to him that he had not examined the mantel-piece. - -There was not a moment to be lost, as Myles might return at any -moment, so in a second Flip scrambled up on a chair, and was eagerly -looking among the ornaments on the mantel-piece. - -There was a mirror framed in tarnished gold, and in front of this a -tawdry French clock under a glass shade, two Dresden china figures -simpering at one another, and two tall green vases at each end. Flip -saw nothing of what he wanted till he peered into one of these vases, -when he saw something looking like steel, and drew forth a slender -shining blade with no handle. - -"Wonder if this is what the guy'nor wants," he said to himself, -turning it over gingerly, "tain't got no 'andle." - -He thought for a moment, and then, as he had been so lucky with one -vase looked into the other, and found a cross handle--he joined the -two and they fitted perfectly. Being certain this was what Dowker -wanted, he was thinking how he could take it, when he heard Myles -ascending the stairs. Jumping down he hid the broken blade and the -handle securely among his rags, being very careful not to prick -himself as he remembered Dowker's warning about the poison, then he -lay down on the hearthrug again, and was groaning loudly when Myles -entered with the hot water. - -"Feeling bad?" asked Myles sympathetically, pouring out some port -wine. - -"Awful," groaned Flip feeling not a bit of compunction at the -treacherous part he was playing. "It's cold I think--cold and 'unger." - -"Here drink this," said Desmond, kneeling down beside him, and giving -him the steaming tumbler. "It will do you good." - -"Thanks, guv'nor," said Flip gratefully, feeling if the broken blade -was all safe, "it 'ull warm me up." - -Desmond lighted his pipe and sat watching the ragged little Arab -drinking the hot wine, never thinking for a moment that he was -nourishing a viper--a viper that would turn and sting him. Honest -himself, he never suspected wrong-doing in others, and while -succouring this outcast he did not know he was doing an evil thing for -himself. - -After Flip had finished the wine he declared he felt better, and with -many asseverations of gratitude took leave of his benefactor. - -"Poor little devil!" said Desmond as he closed the door and saw the -ragged little urchin scudding away into the darkness, "he seemed very -bad--well I've done one good action, so perhaps it will bring me a -reward." - -It did, and the reward was that next morning Myles Desmond of -Bloomsbury, journalist, was arrested for the murder of Lena Sarschine. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. -ANOTHER COMPLICATION. - - -Though he had arrested Myles Desmond, Dowker was by no means certain -that he had got a hold of the right man. Judging from the conversation -reported by Flip, Desmond himself appeared to have strong suspicions -about Calliston, and Dowker in his own mind became convinced that -there was some connection between the elopement of Lady Balscombe and -the murder of Lena Sarschine. - -He wanted to find out the name of the woman who visited Lady Balscombe -on the night of the murder, for a sudden thought had presented itself, -that this unknown visitor might have been Lena Sarschine. But the idea -seemed absurd, for a woman of such a character as Lord Calliston's -mistress could hardly have the audacity to visit Lady Balscombe. - -"And yet," pondered Dowker, "I don't know--these two woman both -loved the same man, and a free-lance like Lena Sarschine would not -hesitate for a moment in slanging any woman who took her man away--but -why did not Lady Balscombe kick up a row and order her to leave the -house?--I'm hanged if I can get to the bottom of this!" - -At length Dowker decided that the best thing to be done would be to -find out from some servant of the Balscombe household all that took -place subsequent to Lady Balscombe's departure. First, however, he -decided on seeing Lydia Fenny and finding out if Lena Sarschine had -let fall any hint of calling on her rival. - -Lydia Fenny received the detective eagerly, as she evidently loved her -mistress and wanted to do all in her power to further the ends of -justice. As there was no time to be lost, Dowker plunged at once into -the subject matter of his visit. - -"Did Miss Sarschine state on the night of her murder where she was -going?" he asked. - -"Yes," replied Lydia, "as I told you before she said she was going to -Lord Calliston's rooms." - -"Nowhere else?" - -"Not to my knowledge." - -"Humph! she did not make any remark that would lead you to believe she -was going to Lady Balscombe's?" - -"Lady Balscombe's!" echoed Lydia in astonishment, "why what would she -want to do there?" - -"I don't know, but I think she was there on that night," and Dowker -detailed to Lydia the conversation overheard by Flip, at the -conclusion of which she said: - -"I suppose you want to find out from the servants if Miss Sarschine -was there?" - -"Yes; do you know any of the servants?" - -"One--Lady Balscombe's maid--Anne Lifford." - -"Oh!" said Dowker in a satisfied tone. "Can you ask her to come along -here and see you? I can find out all I want to know from her." - -"I daresay I can get her to come here to-day, as her mistress being -away she cannot be busy." - -"Good!" replied the detective, "send for her at once. I will wait -here." - -"Very well," said Lydia, and was leaving the room when Dowker called -her back. - -"Could you let me see your mistress's private desk?" he asked. - -"What for?" demanded Lydia, rather taken aback. - -"Because I want to look over her papers; from them I can gather her -past life, and find out if anyone had a motive in killing her." - -"Oh!" said Lydia after a pause, "you don't think then that Mr. Desmond -is guilty?" - -Dowker shrugged his shoulders. - -"How can I tell?" he replied; "as far as I can see he had no motive, -and one does not commit a murder for sport--but come, show me her -desk." - -Lydia looked at him doubtfully. - -"I don't know if I ought to let you see her private papers." - -Dowker laughed in a subdued manner. - -"Why not?" he said lightly, "she is dead, and we want to find out who -killed her--looking at her papers cannot do any harm and may save the -life of an innocent man." - -Lydia Fenny hesitated no longer, but leading the detective to the end -of the drawing-room showed him a recess wherein was placed a very -handsome desk of the ordinary office character. Dowker tried some of -the drawers. - -"Locked," he said quietly. "Have you the keys?" - -"No, she had them with her." - -Dowker made up his mind to commit a burglary. - -"Bring me a chisel." - -"At once," replied Lydia Fenny, going, "and I'll also send for Anne -Lifford." - -She left the room, and Dowker sitting down in front of the desk -examined it carefully. It was one of those table desks with a -knee-hole in the centre and a row of drawers on each side. At the back -were a number of pigeon holes containing papers, and these Dowker -examined, but found nothing more than bills and blank sheets of paper. - -"Whatever private papers she's had," said Dowker, on discovering this, -"are in these drawers." - -Lydia Fenny arrived with the chisel and a small hammer, both of which -she handed to Dowker, telling him at the same time she had sent for -Anne Lifford. Dowker nodded carelessly and began to force open the -drawers. - -After half-an-hour's hard work this was the result of his labours. - -First, a bundle of old letters addressed to "Miss Helena Dicksfall, -Post Office, Folkestone," signed F. Carrill. - -Second, a photograph of a handsome white-haired old man, on the back -of which photograph was written, "Your loving father, Michael -Dicksfall." - -Third, a photograph of Lena Sarschine, taken in a white dress with a -tennis racket in her hand. - -Dowker examined the photographs carefully, and then coolly read all -the letters, of which there were about ten. After doing this, he -turned to Lydia Fenny who had been watching him all the time, and -said: - -"I can read a whole story in this; the name of your mistress was not -Lena Sarschine, but Helena Dicksfall--she lived at Folkestone with her -father, Captain Michael Dicksfall, and a lady she calls Amelia, whom I -take to be her sister. Lord Calliston went down to Folkestone, saw her -and fell in love--all these letters show how he conducted his -intrigue, which he did under the name of Frank Carrill. He loved Miss -Dicksfall but did not wish to marry her; at last he persuaded her to -run away with him, and at last she did so. Ashamed of her position, -she changed her name to Lena Sarschine so as to conceal her identity. -The portrait of the old gentleman is that of her father, Captain -Michael Dicksfall, and this one is herself." - -Lydia Fenny listened in silent amazement to the way in which he had -pieced the story together, and then taking the portraits in her hand -she looked at them long and earnestly. - -"Yes," she said at length, laying down the photographs with a sigh. -"It is Miss Sarschine, but it must have been taken some time ago, for -I never saw her in that dress, and I have been with her for about a -year." - -Dowker was about to make a reply when the door opened and a woman -entered. Tall, thin, with a pale face, dark hair, and an aggressive -manner, dressed in a green dress, and bonnet to match. - -"Oh!" observed Lydia on seeing her, "is this you, Anne?" - -Dowker looked sharply at the new comer, whom he now knew to be Lady -Balscombe's maid, and she returned his gaze with a look of suspicion. - -"Well, sit," she said at length, in a rather harsh voice, "I hope -you'll know me again." - -Dowker laughed, and Lydia hastened to introduce him to Miss Lifford, -who being an extremely self-possessed young person took the -introduction very calmly, though she manifested some surprise when she -heard Mr. Dowker's calling. - -"This gentleman," said Lydia when they were all seated, "wants to ask -you a few questions." - -"And for what?" asked Miss Lifford, indignantly, "my character I hope -being above policemen's prying." - -"I'm not a policeman," explained Dowker, smoothly, "but a detective, -and I want to know all that took place on the night your mistress -eloped." - -"Are you employed by Sir Rupert?" asked Anne, grandly, "because though -I knows they fought bitter, yet wild bulls won't drag anything out of -me against my mistress, she being a good one to me." - -"I don't want you to say anything against your mistress," replied -Dowker, mildly, "but I am investigating this case of murder." - -"Murder!" echoed Miss Lifford in a scared tone, "who is murdered--not -Lady Balscombe?" - -"No," said Lydia, bursting into tears, "but my poor mistress, Miss -Sarschine." - -"A person of no repute," sniffed Anne, coldly. - -"Leave her alone," said Lydia passionately. "She's dead, poor soul, -and even if she was not married, she was better than Lady Balscombe, -carrying on with Lord Calliston." - -"Oh, indeed, miss," said Ann, rising indignantly. "This is a plot, is -it, to mix up Lady Balscombe with your mistress? I won't have anything -to do with it." - -Dowker caught her wrist as she arose, and forced her back into her -chair. - -"You'll answer what I want to know," he said sternly, "or it will be -the worse for yourself." - -Upon this Miss Lifford began to weep, and demanded if she was a slave -or a British female, to be thus badgered and assaulted by a policeman. -At last, after some difficulty, Dowker succeeded in making her -understand that what he wanted to know was not detrimental to her -mistress, upon which she said she would tell him what he required. So -Dowker produced his note-book and prepared to take down Miss Lifford's -evidence. - -"First," asked Dowker, "do you remember the night when Lady Balscombe -eloped?" - -"Not being a born fool, I do," retorted Miss Lifford sharply. "Such -goings on I never saw." - -"Can you tell me all that took place on that night?" - -Miss Lifford sniffed thoughtfully. - -"There was a ball they was going to." - -"Who were going to?" - -"Lady Balscombe and Miss Penfold. They did go, and left shortly before -ten, but before I had time to turn round, they were back again, as -Lady Balscombe said she had a headache." - -"Oh, so I suppose she went to bed?" - -"Then you suppose wrong," retorted Anne triumphantly, "for there was a -pusson waiting to see her." - -"A lady?" asked Dowker, eagerly. - -"I don't know," retorted Miss Lifford sharply. "She had a veil on." - -"Can you describe her dress?" - -Miss Lifford thought a moment, while Lydia bent forward anxiously to -hear her answer. - -"A hat trimmed with blue and brown velvet, and a sealskin jacket." - -Lydia Fenny sank back in her seat with a groan. - -"Oh, my poor mistress!" - -"Your mistress!" echoed Miss Lifford, turning sharply. "It could not -have been Miss Sarschine who called on that night." - -"But I'm certain it was," said Dowker. - -"What impertinence!" muttered the virtuous Anne. - -"Never mind," said Dowker sharply, "go on with your story," - -Miss Lifford sniffed indignantly and resumed: - -"Lady Balscombe returned at half-past ten and went up to her -dressing-room, where this--this lady was waiting for her. Miss Penfold -went to bed. I don't know how long the lady was with my mistress, as I -was told that my mistress would not require me again that night; but I -waited about in case I should be wanted, and saw the lady leave the -house shortly after eleven." - -"Miss Sarschine?" - -"Yes--at least, the lady in the sealskin jacket, and you say it was -Miss Sarschine, so I suppose it was. I then went to Lady Balscombe's -room, but found the door locked, so as I thought she had gone to bed I -went downstairs to get my supper. When I came upstairs again, about -twelve, the door was still locked, so I went to bed." - -"Lady Balscombe could not have gone out in the meantime?" - -"No, because I asked the footman if anyone had gone out or come in, -and he said no one." - -"She could not have gone out without attracting the notice of the -servants, I suppose?" - -"No, they would have recognised her at once. I think she waited till -everyone was in bed and then went off to meet Lord Calliston." - -"But you are sure she did not leave till after twelve?" - -"I'd swear it anywhere," returned Miss Lifford impatiently. - -"In that case," muttered Dowker, "it could not have been Lady -Balscombe who saw Mr. Desmond at Lord Calliston's chambers, so it must -have been Lena Sarschine." - -"Do you want to know anything more?" asked Miss Lifford icily. - -"Yes. Tell me, what was Lady Balscombe like?" - -Miss Lifford laughed contemptuously. - -"Why, don't you know?" she replied. "You ought to, as she was one of -the beauties of the season. Her portrait was all over the place. -Why," catching sight of the photograph on the study-table, "you have -one." - -Dowker handed her the photograph. - -"Do you say that is Lady Balscombe?" - -"Yes, certainly." - -"What nonsense!" said Lydia, "why, that is Miss Sarschine." - -"I never saw Miss Sarschine," retorted Miss Lifford, "but I know -that's Lady Balscombe." - -"I never saw Lady Balscombe," replied Lydia, angrily, "but I know -that's Miss Sarschine." - -Dowker looked from one to the other, and then slipped the photograph -into his pocket along with the letters and the other photograph. - -"There's only one way of settling this," he said quietly, "I'll call -on the photographer and ask him who it is." - -He gave Anne Lifford some money, and then left the house wrapped in -thought. - -"This is a new complication," he said to himself, "this -resemblance--they must be very like one another if their maids mix -them up like this--and then Lena Sarschine calling on Lady Balscombe, -I wonder if there can be any relationship between them--not likely--a -lady of title, and a woman of light character--well," finished up -Dowker, philosophically, "I think the best thing for me to do is to -discover as much about Lena Sarschine's previous life as possible, and -to do this, I'll run down to Folkestone, and look up Captain Michael -Dicksfall." - - - - -CHAPTER XII. -A FAMILY HISTORY. - - -Mr. Dowker was not a man to let grass grow under his feet, so he went -straight to the photographer whose name was on the back of the -portrait found in Lena Sarschine's possession, and ascertained without -much difficulty that it was that of Lady Balscombe. - -"Now, what the deuce was that portrait doing in her desk?" he -muttered, as he left the gallery, "and why should Lydia Fenny mistake -it for her mistress? I wish I could get a picture of Miss Sarschine." - -But he could not manage this, for, according to Lydia Fenny, Miss -Sarschine would never consent to have her portrait taken, so that he -had no means of learning if there was such a wonderful resemblance -between the two women, except by personal description, which was not -by any means satisfactory. - -Under these circumstances there was only one thing to be done--see -Captain Dicksfall, the father of Lena--so putting a few things -together Dowker caught the afternoon train to Folkestone from Charing -Cross. - -Dowker duly arrived at Folkestone and took up his abode in an hotel in -the Sandigate Road, where he ordered himself a pleasant little dinner -and made the acquaintance of a fatherly old waiter who knew everyone -and everything. - -Barbers have the credit of being most notorious gossips, videlicet -Figaro, and the Barber in "The Arabian Nights," but, as a matter of -fact, they are not worse than waiters, who generally hear everything -that's going on in their locality, and, being of a garrulous nature, -do not keep their knowledge to themselves. - -This waiter at the Prince's Hotel rejoiced in the name of Martin, and, -hovering about Dowker, armed with a napkin and a pint bottle of -Heidsieck, managed to satisfy that gentleman's curiosity concerning -the existence of Captain Michael Dicksfall. - -"Yes, sir--know him well, sir--by sight, sir," he said, brimming the -empty glass with champagne. "H'old gentleman, sir--bin in the -army--'ad two daughters." - -"Two daughters?" repeated Dowker eagerly. - -"Yes, sir--Miss Amelia and Miss Helena, sir--twins--as fine-looking -gals as you ever saw, sir--tall, 'andsome, and golden 'air." - -"Oh, indeed!" replied Dowker indifferently. "And are they living with -Captain Dicksfall?" - -"No, sir," said Martin gravely. "You see, sir, Miss Helena fell in -love with a gent who was stopping at the Pavilion, sir, and went off -with him." - -"What was his name?" - -"Don't know, sir. He called himself Carrill, but they do say it was -not his right name." - -"Humph!" - -Dowker pondered a little over this. It was as he had thought after -reading the letters. Lord Calliston had masqueraded at Folkestone -under the name of Carrill, and had inveigled Helena Dicksfall away -from home, and kept her in St. John's Wood as "Lena Sarschine." - -"And the other young lady," he asked, "Miss Amelia?" - -"Oh, she made a good match, sir," replied Martin. "Married Sir Rupert -Balscombe, sir, about a year ago. But I did 'ear, sir, as 'ow she 'ad -bolted last week, sir, with Lord Calliston--same blood, sir; it will -come out," and Martin departed to attend upon an important customer. - -"Same blood," repeated Dowker musingly. "I wonder if he knows it's the -same man? Calliston evidently had a _penchant_ for the family, for -there seems to be no doubt that Miss Sarschine and Lady Balscombe were -sisters. So he kept one and made love to the other! Queer--deuced -queer! Well, I think I had better look up Captain Dicksfall." - -He finished his wine, and putting on his hat, went out into the cool -evening and strolled leisurely along the Leas, first having taken the -precaution of putting Dicksfall's address in his pocket. - -There were a great number of people on the Leas, and that pleasant -promenade was crowded with youth, beauty, and fashion. Charming girls -in charming dresses, well-dressed men, happy-looking boys, and here -and there a shaky-looking invalid, formed the greater part of the -assembly, so that Dowker found a good deal of amusement in watching -the passers-by. The lift was hard at work lowering people to the beach -below or taking them up to the higher level, and the pier was full of -gaily-dressed idlers, who looked like pigmies from the heights above. -Very pleasant and amusing to an unoccupied man, but Dowker being down -on business, and not pleasure, turned away from the pleasant scene and -went up past Harvey's statue towards the heart of the new town. - -He had no difficulty in finding Captain Dicksfall's cottage, which was -a comfortable-looking place with a small garden in front. A neat -maid-servant admitted him into a dusky passage, and from thence showed -him into a small drawing-room, at the end of which, near the window, -Captain Dicksfall lay on a sofa, looking out on to the quiet street. A -haggard, pale face, worn by suffering, but which had once been -handsome. He lay supinely on the sofa in an attitude of utter -lassitude, covered by a heavy rug, and his slender white hands were -toying with a book which was lying on his lap. - -He turned fretfully when Dowker entered, and spoke in the querulous -voice of an invalid. - -"What is it, my good man?" he said peevishly. "Why do you come and -disturb me at this hour? My doctor has ordered complete rest, and how -can I get it if you trouble me?" - -"Selfish old chap," thought Dowker, but without saying a word he took -his seat near the invalid and commenced to talk. - -"I am sorry to trouble you, sir," he said respectfully, "but I wanted -to see you about your daughters." - -"My daughters!" echoed Captain Dicksfall, angrily. "You are making a -mistake, I have only one--Lady Balscombe!" - -Dowker felt disappointed. Only one daughter! If so, Lena Sarschine -could be no relation of Lady Balscombe, and his theory about the -possible motive for the committal of the Piccadilly crime would fall -to the ground. But then the name, Helena Dicksfall--the portrait of -the old gentleman before him. It must be true. - -"I understood you had two daughters, sir, Lady Balscombe and Miss -Helena Dicksfall?" - -The invalid turned sharply on him. - -"Who the devil are you to intrude yourself into my private affairs?" - -Dowker came at once promptly to the point. - -"My name is Dowker. I am a detective." - -Captain Dicksfall struck his hand angrily down on the pillow. - -"Sent by Sir Rupert, I presume?" he said with a sneer. "He -wants to get a divorce, and you have come to me for evidence. I know -nothing--my daughter was always a good daughter to me, and if Sir -Rupert had treated her well, this elopement with Lord Calliston would -never have taken place. He is to blame--not she." - -"I do not come from Sir Rupert," said Dowker coldly, "but from -Scotland Yard." - -"About what?" - -"The death of your other daughter." - -Captain Dicksfall started up with a groan, and stared wildly at -Dowker. - -"Good God! Is Helena dead?" - -"Who is Helena?" asked Dowker, stolidly. - -"My daughter--my daughter." - -"I thought you said you'd only one, sir." - -The sick man turned away his face. - -"I had two," he said in a low tone, "but one, the eldest, ran away -with some scamp, called Carrill. Since then I have heard nothing of -her, so I always say I have only one." - -Dowker thought for a few moments. It was a very delicate position to -occupy, and, feeling it to be so, for a moment he was doubtful as to -how to proceed. - -"Captain Dicksfall," he said at length, "I know I am only a common man -and you are a gentleman; it is not for such as me to speak to you -about your private affairs, but this is a matter of life or death to a -human being, and, if you hear my story, I am sure you will not refuse -to help me by telling me what I want to know." - -Dicksfall was looking at the detective with a sombre fire burning in -his unusually bright eyes, then with a sigh he lay down and prepared -to listen. - -"Tell me what you wish," he said languidly, "and, if possible, I will -do what you require." - -Whereupon, Dowker told him the story of the Jermyn Street murder, the -elopement of Lady Balscombe, and the reasons he had for believing that -the two incidents were connected in some mysterious way. He also -informed him of the arrest of Myles Desmond, and of the doubts he -entertained concerning his criminality. - -At the conclusion, Dicksfall was silent for a minute, then turned -towards the detective, and clasped his thin fingers nervously -together. - -"I am a proud man," he said with a touch of pathos, "and do not care -about telling the world my private affairs; but in a case like this I -think it is only right I should put myself aside for the sake of -clearing the character of an innocent man. What do you wish to know?" - -"Was Lena Sarschine your daughter?" - -For answer Dicksfall pointed to a small table near at hand, upon which -was a morocco frame containing two portraits. Dowker took them to the -window and looked at them. - -"Both of the same lady?" he asked. - -Dicksfall smiled faintly. - -"You are not the first who has been deceived," he said with a sigh. -"No! One is my daughter Helena, who, from your story, I believe to be -Lena Sarschine, and the other is Amelia, Lady Balscombe--twins." - -Dowker examined the photographs closely, and was astonished at the -likeness, which was further aided by both of them being dressed -exactly alike. - -"It is wonderful," he said, and no longer marvelled at the way in -which Lydia Fenny and Anne Lifford had confused the identity of the -portrait found in Lena Sarschine's desk. - -"I have been living here for many years," said Dicksfall in a low -voice, "and my two daughters lived with me. Their mother has been dead -a long time. About three years ago, a young man, who called himself -Carrill, came here and stopped at the Pavilion Hotel. He obtained an -introduction to me by some means, and appeared to be struck with the -beauty of Helena. I thought he was going to marry her, when I heard -rumours as to the fastness of his life, and also that he was not what -he represented himself to be. I taxed him with it, but he denied the -accusation, yet so transparent was his denial that I forbade him the -house, The result was that Helena ran away with him, and, until the -time you spoke to me of her and told me his real name, I did not know -it, and never entertained any suspicion as to his real rank in life. I -was so angry that I forbade Helena's name to be mentioned in my -hearing, and always said, as I did to-night, that I had only one -daughter--my daughter Amelia, married to Sir Rupert Balscombe last -year, and I thought that she would, at least, not follow the example -of her sister. Now, however, I know all, but, to tell you the truth, I -blame Sir Rupert for her elopement, as I know she was a kind daughter, -and I am sure she'd have made a good wife. He was very jealous of her, -and had a fearful temper, so I daresay he drove her to it. From what -you say, I suppose my poor Helena went to see her sister on the night -of the elopement to dissuade her from going with Lord Calliston, and -surely she had the best right to speak of one who had ruined her own -life, but evidently her arguments were of no avail, and she called at -Calliston's chambers to remonstrate with him. He was not there, and -she went out to her death, and then Amelia eloped with him, as you -have told me. I was a fast man in my youth, and the sins of the father -are being visited on the children." - -"But this does not clear up the mystery of Lena Sarschine's death." - -"Don't call her by that name," said Dicksfall angrily. "It is the name -that shames her. No; you are right, it does not explain her death, but -I do not know, from what you say, what motive Myles Desmond could have -had in murdering her." - -"I don't believe he did," said Dowker bluntly, "but I want to find out -your daughter's past life. Had she any lovers?" - -Dicksfall flushed a deep red. - -"She was always a good daughter to me," he said quietly, "but I -believe she was very much admired." - -"Do you know the name of anyone who admired her?" - -"No." - -"Not one? - -"Not one." - -There was clearly nothing more to be gained from Dicksfall, so Dowker -respectfully said good-bye and took his leave. - -"At all events," he said to himself, as he wended his way back to his -hotel, "I've found out one thing--Lena Sarschine and Lady Balscombe -were sisters, and both loved the same man. What I'd like to know is, -whether Lady Balscombe killed her sister out of jealousy. D--n it, I'm -getting more perplexed than ever. This visit instead of clearing up -the mystery deepens it. I think I'll see Sir Rupert Balscombe and ask -him about things; as his wife is mixed up in it, I've a right, and I'd -give anything to save that young fellow's life, because I'm sure he's -innocent." - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. -MYLES DESMOND FINDS FRIENDS. - - -Myles Desmond was not a particularly good young man, but good enough -as young men of the present generation go. He was a healthy, cheery, -enough-for-the-day-is-the-evil-thereof sort of fellow, and, considered -himself decidedly hardly treated at being arrested on such a serious -charge as that of the murder of Lena Sarschine. - -According to the cynical creed prevailing now-a-days all his friends -should have turned their backs on him now he was in trouble, but there -is a wonderful lot of undiscovered good even in friends, and none of -them did. Instead of calling him names and laughing at his misfortune -Desmond's friends took up his cause warmly, and both in clubs and -drawing-rooms he was heartily commiserated. Many people, both in his -own set and in the literary circle of which he had become a member, -had taken a liking to the bright, kindly young man, and emphatically -declared that the whole thing was a terrible mistake. - -"Myles Desmond a murderer!" they said, "why as soon say the Archbishop -of Canterbury is an Atheist." So as certain grasses only give out -perfume when crushed, Myles' misfortune brought all his friends around -to help him if need be. - -And he sadly needed help, poor fellow, for his position was a very -critical one, the evidence against him being as follows: - -1. He had last seen Lena Sarschine alive on the night of the murder. - -2. He had been met in St. James's Street by Ellersby not far from the -scene of the crime. - -3. He had in his possession the dagger with which the crime was, to -all appearances, committed. - -Myles answered these accusations as follows: - -1. He had not seen Lena Sarschine on that night, but another lady -whose name he refused to divulge. - -2. His presence in St. James's Street on the night in question was -purely accidental. - -3. And the dagger found in the vase was one he had taken from Lena -Sarschine on the afternoon of the day she had called to see Calliston -about the elopement. - -"I'll tell you all about that dagger," explained Myles to Norwood, his -solicitor. "I was at Calliston's rooms on the Monday afternoon looking -over his papers, when Lena Sarschine came in like a mad woman to see -Calliston. I tried to quiet her, but she refused to be pacified, and -pulling out the dagger said she would kill Calliston first and Lady -Balscombe afterwards. I tried to take it from her and she flung it -away--neither of us knew it was poisoned, or I don't think we would -have been so reckless over it. In falling, the dagger rested slantwise -from the floor to the fender, and in springing to get it I put my foot -on it and broke the handle off. In case she should get it again, I put -the pieces in my pocket and took them home--I left them on a side -table, so if they were found in the ornaments someone must have placed -them there--and Lena Sarschine went away on that day, and since then I -have seen nothing of her." - -"Then who was the lady you saw on that night?" asked his solicitor. - -"I cannot tell you," replied the young man doggedly. "I gave my word -to the lady I would not say she had been there till I had her -permission, and till I get it I cannot." - -"When will you get it?" - -"When Calliston returns in his yacht." - -"Why, in that case," said Norwood, "you must mean Lady Balscombe?" - -"I have not said so." - -"No," replied Norwood quickly, "but you say your permission to speak -must come from a lady, and the only lady on board the yacht is Lady -Balscombe, as she ran away with Lord Calliston. Come, tell me, was it -Lady Balscombe you saw on that night?" - -"I won't answer you." - -All that Norwood could do could not get any other answer from the -obstinate young man, so in despair the lawyer left him. - -"It's impossible to perform miracles," he muttered to himself as he -went back to his office, "and if this young fool won't tell me the -whole truth I cannot see what I can do." - -On arriving at his office he found a lady waiting to see him, and on -glancing carelessly at the card handed to him by his clerk started -violently. - -"Miss Penfold," he said, "by Jove! she was engaged to Lord Calliston. -Now I wonder what she wants?" - -The young lady made her appearance, and the door being closed, soon -enlightened him on that point. - -"You are Mr. Desmond's lawyer?" she asked. - -"Yes, I have that honour," replied Norwood, rather puzzled to know -what she had come about. - -"I--I take a great interest in Mr. Desmond," said the girl, -hesitating, "in fact, I'm engaged to him." - -"But I thought Lord Calliston----" - -"Lord Calliston is nothing to me," she broke in impatiently. "I never -did like him, though my guardian wished me to marry him, and I love -Myles Desmond, if I did not I would not be here." - -"Well, of course I feel sure he is innocent." - -"Innocent! I never had any doubt on the subject, but I want to know -what chances there are of proving his innocence." - -"It will be a difficult matter," said Norwood thoughtfully, "as I can -get him to tell me nothing." - -"What is it he refuses to tell you?" asked Miss Penfold. - -"The name of the lady whom he saw at Lord Calliston's chambers on the -night of the murder. I believe myself it was Lady Balscombe." - -"Lady Balscombe!" echoed May in astonishment, "why what would take her -there?" - -"Perhaps she went to meet Lord Calliston. The reason why I think it's -she is that Mr. Desmond says he promised the lady he saw that he would -not speak without her permission, and then he tells me he cannot speak -till Lord Calliston's yacht comes back, and as Lady Balscombe is the -only lady on board it must be her." - -"But why should he refuse to tell you it was her?" - -Norwood shrugged his shoulders. - -"Well, it's hardly the thing for a lady to visit a chambers at that -hour of the night--her reputation----" - -"Her reputation!" repeated May Penfold contemptuously, "he need not -try to save it now, considering she's thrown it away by eloping with -Lord Calliston; but what else is there in his favour?" - -"The principal thing is the dagger," said Norwood; "he told me he took -it from Lena Sarschine and brought it home--so if his landlady or -anyone else put it away, they must have seen it--and so it will show -the truth of his story." - -"Then in order to find out it will be best to see his landlady." - -"Certainly--but I don't know where he lives." - -"I do--Primrose Crescent, Bloomsbury. You go there and find out what -you can." - -"I may as well try," said Norwood thoughtfully, "but I'm afraid it's a -forlorn hope." - -"Forlorn hopes generally succeed," replied May with a confident smile. -"So you go to his lodgings, and then let me know the result of your -inquiries." - -Norwood agreed to this, and after Miss Penfold had departed called a -cab and drove to the address of Myles Desmond. Rondalina, more wan and -ghost-like than ever, opened the door and informed the lawyer that -Mrs. Mulgy had gone out. - -"That's a pity," said Norwood, in a disappointed tone. "Are you the -servant?" - -"Yes sir," replied Rondalina, dropping a curtsey. - -"And you attend to all the lodgers?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Oh! then perhaps you can tell me what I want to know," said Norwood -cheerfully. "Take me up to Mr. Desmond's room." - -Rondalina, being a London girl, was very sharp, and looked keenly at -Mr. Norwood to see if he had any design of burglary. The scrutiny -proving satisfactory, she led him upstairs, and showed him Desmond's -sitting-room. - -"Now then," said Norwood, taking a seat, "I want you to answer me a -few questions." - -Rondalina looked frightened, and said, "Yes, sir," in a mechanical -manner. - -"First," asked Norwood, "do you dust this room and put things -straight?" - -"I do, sir." - -"Do you remember seeing a broken dagger about the place--a blade and a -handle?" - -Rondalina twisted her apron up into a knot and thought hard, then -intimated she had seen it. - -"Oh!--and when did you see it?" - -"About a week or so ago, sir," replied Rondalina. "Mr. Desmond, sir, -he comes in at five o'clock when I was a'layin' of the cloth for -dinner, and ses he 'I ain't a-goin' to stay in for dinner 'cause I'm -a-goin' h'out,' then he takes the knife from his pocket, being broken -in two, and throws the bits on the table and goes out to put his -clothes on. I takes the dinner things down stairs, and when I comes up -he were gone, so I sets to work an' tidies up the room." - -"Was the dagger still on the table?" - -"The knife, sir," corrected Rondalina, "yes, sir, it were, and I puts -the bits in the h'ornaments so as to keep 'em out of the way of the -children, an' I 'ope it weren't wrong, sir." - -"No, not at all," replied Norwood, "but tell me, did Mr. Desmond come -back on that night?" - -"Yes, sir--but not till late, sir--three o'clock in the morning. He -'adn't his latch-key, so I 'ad to git h'up and let him in." - -"Was he sober?" - -"Quite, sir, only he seemed upset like, and goes up to his room -without saying a word." - -This was all the information obtainable from Rondalina, so Norwood -departed from the house very much satisfied with what he had -discovered. He drove straight to Park Lane and told May Penfold all -Rondalina had said. - -"You see," he said in conclusion, "this evidence will prove one thing, -that Desmond could not have committed the crime with that dagger." - -"Then I suppose they'll say he did it with another," said May -bitterly. - -"If they do so they will damage their own case," replied Norwood -coolly, "for Dowker swears the crime was committed by this special -dagger, and if Desmond did not use it--as can be proved by the -evidence of the servant--no one else could have done so; by-the-way, -you say Sir Rupert was down at Berkshire on that night." - -"He was," replied May, "but he came up by a late train and then went -to his club shortly before twelve." - -"Is he in?" asked the lawyer. - -"No, but you will be able to see him about five o'clock," said Miss -Penfold, "he has been shut up in his library since the elopement of -his wife, but had to go out to-day on business." - -"I'll call then." - -"What do you want to see him about?" - -"I am anxious to ascertain if he knew his wife's movements on that -night, and whether she left the house." - -"I don't think he can tell you that, as his wife and he were on bad -terms and occupied different rooms; besides, even if you find out that -Lady Balscombe visited Lord Calliston's chambers on that night, it -won't save Myles." - -"I don't know so much about that," replied Norwood, cheerfully, "it -will help to unravel this mystery, and when everything is made plain -I'm certain Myles Desmond won't be the man to suffer for this crime." - - - - -CHAPTER XIV -MY LADY'S HUSBAND. - - -In the brilliant comedies of Wycherley, Moliere, Goldini, and Lope de -Vega the betrayed husband is always made the scapegoat for the sins of -the lovers, and all the sympathies of the dramatists are with the -pretty wife and the gay deceiver. This was the case with poor Sir -Rupert, for though his friends pitied him heartily for the manner in -which his wife had behaved, yet they also laughed at him for the way -in which he had allowed Calliston to carry on the intrigue under his -very nose. Sir Rupert thought Calliston's visits were to his ward, but -in reality she was merely used as a stalking-horse to conceal the -designs of the young man on Lady Balscombe. When the blow came and the -lady eloped, no one was surprised except the unsuspecting husband, -who, having raised his wife from an obscure position to a brilliant -one, and given her all she could wish for, never dreamt for a moment -she would reward him in so base a manner. - -Sir Rupert, however, had no idea of playing the complacent husband in -this case, and at once proceeded to take steps for a divorce. The -difficulty was to serve the guilty pair with citations, for as the -yacht had gone to the Azores there was no chance of doing so until she -returned to England, or until she touched at some civilized port easy -to be reached by the long arm of the law. - -The baronet sat in his library reading a letter from his lawyers, -which informed him that Calliston's yacht, the _Seamew_, had put into -a French port for repairs as she had been disabled in a storm, and -that they had sent over a clerk to serve the citations at once. The -intelligence seemed to afford Sir Rupert the greatest pleasure, and he -threw down the paper with a grim smile. He was a tall, fine-looking -man of forty-nine, with a soldierly carriage and iron-grey hair. - -"She won't find life with Calliston so happy as she did with me," he -muttered, walking up and down the room. "He'll not marry her after she -is free, and then she'll go from bad to worse. I was a fool to make -her my wife; with the instincts she's got she would have been just as -satisfied with being my mistress--come in," he said aloud, as a knock -came to the door. - -It opened and Miss Penfold entered, followed by Norwood, at the sight -of whom Sir Rupert seemed surprised, but said nothing. - -"This gentleman wishes to speak with you, Sir Rupert," said May, -advancing towards the baronet. "He is----" - -"A lawyer, I know," replied Sir Rupert, coldly pushing a chair towards -his ward, "I've seen him in court--and what is the object of your -visit, sir?" he said, turning to Norwood. - -"I've called to see you about this arrest of Myles Desmond for the -murder of Lena Sarschine," says Norwood, placing his hat on the table. - -"I know nothing about him," replied the baronet, looking angrily at -May. "Why do you come to me for information?" - -"Because we want to save Mr. Desmond's life," said May boldly. - -"His life--a murderer?" - -"He is no murderer," said the young girl quickly. "Appearances are -against him, but he is innocent." - -"I believe you love the fellow still," said Balscombe, contemptuously. - -"So much that I'm going to marry him," she replied. - -"You may do so, if he escapes the gallows, which I doubt," retorted -the baronet. - -"I do not doubt," interposed Norwood quietly; "I am certain Mr. -Desmond is innocent and could clear himself but for some absurd idea -of honour." - -"And what's all this got to do with me?" asked Balscombe haughtily. - -"Simply this, that I have reason to believe Lady Balscombe had -something to do with the case." - -"Lady Balscombe!" echoed Sir Rupert, turning pale with fury. "Take -care, sir, take care. My affairs have nothing to do with you, and Lady -Balscombe's folly is quite apart from this--this murder." - -"I think not," answered Norwood quietly, "for in my opinion Lady -Balscombe left this house and went to Lord Calliston's chambers on the -night of the murder and saw Mr. Desmond." - -"Did Mr. Desmond tell you this?" said Balscombe in a nervous voice. - -"No, Mr. Desmond refuses to tell anything," rejoined Norwood, "but I -am certain it was Lady Balscombe, and as you came up from Berkshire on -that night I thought you might tell me at what hour Lady Balscombe -went out?" - -"I am no spy on my wife's movements," retorted the baronet haughtily. -"I came up from Berkshire, it is true, and understood from my servants -that my wife was in her room. As we were not on good terms I did not -see her, but went straight to my club. From there I did not return -till about three in the morning. I then went to bed and did not know -of Lady Balscombe's flight till next morning when it was too late to -stop her. So, you see, I can tell you nothing." - -Norwood was about to reply when a knock came to the door and the -servant, entering, gave a card to Sir Rupert, which he glanced at and -then handed to Norwood. - -"Here is the detective who has the case in hand," he said quietly. -"Perhaps, if you question him you may find out what you want to know. -Show the gentleman in." - -"Dowker's a clever man," said Norwood, when the servant had retired; -"he arrested Desmond, so I presume he has come here to get evidence -against him. Now, Miss Penfold, we must put our wits against his." - -"Yes, and between the two stools poor Desmond will fall to the -ground," replied the baronet, with a cold smile. "Here is your -detective." - -Mr. Dowker, being announced by the servant, entered the room quietly, -and bowed first to Miss Penfold and then to Sir Rupert. - -"How do you do Mr. Norwood?" he said calmly. "I did not think to meet -you here, but I suppose we're on the same errand." - -"Not quite," replied Norwood. "You want to destroy Myles Desmond. I -wish to save him." - -"There you are wrong," said Dowker, placing his hat beside a chair and -taking his seat. "I want to save him also." - -"Save him?" cried May, starting up. - -"Yes; because I believe him to be innocent." - -"Then why arrest him?" asked Norwood. - -Dowker shrugged his shoulders. - -"The evidence against him was too strong to permit him being at large, -but from what I have learnt lately I have reason to believe he is not -the guilty man." - -This remark, coming from such a source, produced the profoundest -impression in the mind of May Penfold, and Norwood himself seemed -relieved, while the baronet stood on the hearthrug and looked stolidly -on. - -"Then we can work together?" said the lawyer. - -"Yes; to prove the innocence of Mr. Desmond," replied Dowker. "And in -doing so we will discover the real criminal." - -"And now," observed Balscombe in a cold voice, "having settled this -little matter about helping Mr. Desmond, whom I sincerely trust will -be proved innocent of this charge, perhaps, Mr. Dowker, you will -inform me the reason of your visit?" - -"Certainly, sir," replied Dowker deliberately. "I want to ask you some -questions about Lady Balscombe." - -Two of his listeners looked at him in surprise struck by the -singularity of the coincidence that he should have called on exactly -the same errand as they did. - -"I wish to know," said Dowker, "if you are aware that your wife called -at Lord Calliston's chambers on the night of the murder?" - -"Who says so?" asked Balscombe, harshly. - -"No one," replied the detective; "but did she?" - -"I cannot tell you," said Sir Rupert; and he gave the same account of -his movements on the night in question as he had done to Norwood. - -"Oh," said Dowker, stroking his chin; "so you were in town after all -on that night?" - -Sir Rupert looked uncomfortable under the steady gaze of the -detective, and blurted out, somewhat confusedly, that he was. - -"And you," questioned Dowker, turning to Norwood, "think it was Lady -Balscombe that Desmond saw?" - -"Yes; because he said he could not get permission to speak except from -the lady on board _The Seamew_, and the lady we know is Sir Rupert's -wife." - -"But Lady Balscombe did not leave this house till after twelve -o'clock, and as the woman saw Mr. Desmond before that time it could -not have possibly been Lady Balscombe." - -"How do you know my wife did not leave till after twelve?" demanded -Balscombe. - -"From the evidence of her maid, Anne Lifford." - -"Yes, she told me the same thing," interposed May, "and if that is so, -well--" she looked at the other three in helpless confusion. - -"As Mr. Desmond refuses to give us any information," said Dowker, "the -only thing to be done is to wait and find out the truth from Lady -Balscombe herself." - -"What could she know about this woman's death?" asked Sir Rupert. - -"She might not know much," replied Dowker, significantly, "but enough -to show in what way her sister met her death." - -"Her sister!" echoed the others in surprise. - -"Yes I have ascertained Lena Sarschine to have been the sister of Lady -Balscombe." - -"Are you mad?" said the baronet angrily. "Do you know who my wife -was?" - -"I do. The daughter of Captain Michael Dicksfall of Folkestone--he had -two daughters, twins, one, Miss Helena Dicksfall, ran away with Lord -Calliston three years ago and became his mistress under the name of -Lena Sarschine, the other, Miss Amelia Dicksfall, married Sir Rupert -Balscombe." - -The baronet sank into his seat looking pale and haggard. - -"My God," he muttered, "this is worse and worse. I knew Amelia had a -twin sister, but understood she was dead." - -"Dead as Helena Dicksfall, not as Lena Sarschine." - -"Could Lady Balscombe have had any interest in her sister's death?" -asked Norwood, in a puzzled tone. - -"For heaven's sake don't make her out to be a murderess," said Sir -Rupert vehemently, "she's bad enough as it is, but surely she would -not go so far as--as---murder." - -"I don't know," said Dowker brutally, "they both loved the same man, -and when women are jealous, well there's the devil to pay." - -At this moment a servant entered with a telegram which he handed to -Sir Rupert. Tearing it open the baronet glanced hastily over it and -then sprung to his feet. - -"Now we will know the truth," he said triumphantly. - -"What do you mean?" asked May, trembling in every limb. - -"Simply this," said her guardian, crushing up the telegram in his -hand, "the _Seamew_ is on her way to England." - - - - -CHAPTER XV. -A STARTLING DISCOVERY. - - -Perhaps among all his friends Myles had no warmer supporter than -Spencer Ellersby. The young man appeared to be genuinely sorry that -his evidence about meeting Desmond in St. James' Street should be used -against him. - -"Hang it!" he said to Marton, as they were seated at their club, "if I -had only known how it would have been twisted, I'd not have said a -word, but that detective fellow got it out of me somehow--brute of a -fellow--killed my dog, you know, Pickles." - -"Well, I hear they'll not be able to prove the dagger in Desmond's -possession was the one used," said Marton, "good for poor old -Myles--hey!" - -"I think it's d--d rubbish, the whole thing," retorted Ellersby, -hotly; "what the deuce should Myles kill this woman for, she was -nothing to him; more likely Calliston knows more about it." - -"Well, he'll soon be asked at all events," said Marton, with a -chuckle. "The _Seamew's_ back at Brighton." - -"What!" cried Ellersby astonished. "And Lady Balscombe?" - -"Oh, she's on board also," said Marton. "Sir Rupert has gone down, I -hear, to see his wife--what a deuce of a row there'll be, hey!" and -the old reprobate rubbed his hands. - -"Well, there is one thing to be said," observed Ellersby ringing for a -brandy and soda, "Calliston can't marry Miss Penfold now." - -"All the better for Desmond, dear boy, hey?" - -"I don't see that," retorted Ellersby coolly, "even if Desmond's -acquitted, he'll have a stain on his name--she won't marry him." - -"Hey!" said The Town-crier, all on the alert for news. "What do you -mean?" - -"Simply this, that I'm going to have a look in at the heiress myself." - -"Bosh!" - -"Fact, the matrimonial stakes are open to any one, and I don't see why -Miss Penfold shouldn't marry me." - -"She might if Desmond was out of the way, but as it is--pish!" - -"Well, we'll see," retorted Ellersby, lighting a cigarette. "I've -fallen in love with her, and I'm going to ask her to be my wife. - -"Bet you a hundred to one she don't have you," said Marton, producing -his pocket-book. - -"Done," and the bet was booked immediately. - -"Why hang it," said Marton, when this little transaction was -concluded, "you're not fit to marry--drink, dear boy--bad thing, hey?" - -"Oh, I'll give all that sort of thing up when I'm married," replied -Ellersby, carelessly. - -"You'll have to give up half your life then," retorted his friend -rudely, "for you always seem to be at the brandy bottle." - -Ellersby laughed, in nowise offended. - -"If you had had as many agues and fevers as I have, you'd be at it -too; but you needn't be afraid, when I become Benedict I'll take the -pledge. By the way, come and see my new rooms, I've got 'em all done -up." - -"Right, dear boy, right," said Marton, and the two gentlemen left the -club chatting about the Piccadilly murder and the possible result -thereof. - -While this interesting conversation was going on, Sir Rupert, Dowker, -and Norwood were all in a first-class carriage on their way to -Brighton. As Marton had informed Ellersby, the _Seamew_ had returned -to England the previous day, and now the trio were going down to see -if Lady Balscombe could give them any information likely to solve the -mystery of the murder of Lena Sarschine. Of course Sir Rupert fully -recognised the truth of the proverb "Every man for himself," but now -the guilty passion of his wife appeared a secondary consideration to -the desire of saving an innocent man from a shameful death. - -On the way down, Norwood told Dowker the discovery he had made about -the dagger, at which the detective was much astonished. - -"If; as you say," he remarked, "the lodging-house servant can prove -the broken dagger was in the house all the time, it certainly cannot -have been the weapon used, and yet it corresponds in every particular -with the other weapon I took from Cleopatra Villa. I can quite -understand Miss Sarschine taking it and the manner in which it came -into Desmond's possession, but if this was not the weapon used, where -is the weapon that was." - -"There are plenty of these daggers," suggested Norwood. - -"Certainly--but the coincidence in this case is that the dagger found -in Mr. Desmond's rooms, which came from the house of the murdered -woman, was poisoned, and Lena Sarschine was killed by a poisoned -instrument." - -"There were no other daggers taken from the house I suppose?" asked -Norwood. - -"Not that I know of," replied the detective, "but I am convinced that -the whole secret of this crime lies in the conversation between Mr. -Desmond and Lady Balscombe." - -"You do not say my wife is guilty of this murder?" said Sir Rupert -angrily. - -"I say nothing," replied Dowker evasively, "till I see Lady -Balscombe." - -When the trio arrived at Brighton it was growing late, so they went to -the "Ship" Hotel and had something to eat. Finding out from the waiter -that the _Seamew_ was lying a short distance from the pier they went -down, and hiring a boat rowed to the yacht. When they climbed up on to -the deck they were accosted by one of the officers, who wanted to know -their business. - -"We want to see Lord Calliston," said Balscombe quietly. - -"I'm afraid that's impossible," replied the officer, "as he went up to -town to-day on business." - -"Is there not a lady on board?" asked Norwood. - -"Yes--you mean----" - -"Never mind telling us her name," said Balscombe shortly, feeling a -horror at hearing his wife's name mentioned. "Can we see her?" - -"I will ask," answered the officer, and he went downstairs to the -cabin, from which he soon reascended with the news that they could go -down. - -Dowker went first, followed by Norwood and Sir Rupert, all feeling in -a strange state of excitement at the prospect of the coming interview. - -The cabin was small, but luxuriously fitted up in pale blue silk, and -the walls panelled in oak, with small medallions of seascapes around. -A lamp hanging from the ceiling shed a soft mellow light over all, and -on the table below was a work-basket and some embroidery. - -"She has been working, I see," whispered Balscombe with a sneer as -they entered into the cabin. No one was present, but suddenly they -heard the rustle of a dress, and a curtain at the end of the cabin -parted admitting a woman--a tall fair faced woman, with shining golden -hair. - -At this sight Norwood and Dowker turned to look on Sir Rupert, to -watch the effect of the sight of his wife on him, when they saw he was -pale as death and had made a step forward. - -"You wish to see me?" asked the lady, advancing towards the group. - -"You--you----" cried Sir Rupert in a choked voice. "You are not Lady -Balscombe." - -"I!" in surprise. "No!--I am not Lady Balscombe." - -Dowker and Norwood turned suddenly. - -"Who are you?" - -"Lena Sarschine!" - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. -MORE REVELATIONS. - - -If there ever were three men taken aback, those three were certainly -in the cabin of the _Seamew_--as for Miss Sarschine, she stood looking -calmly at them with an expression of surprise. - -"Will you kindly tell me what you want?" she asked quietly--"Is it to -see Lord Calliston?" - -"No," replied Dowker, who had somewhat recovered himself, "we wanted -to see you." - -"To see me?" she said with surprise. - -"Or at least, Lady Balscombe." - -Miss Sarschine smiled contemptuously. - -"I understand what you mean," she said coolly. "You thought that Lord -Calliston had eloped with Lady Balscombe--so he intended to have done, -but I changed his plans and eloped instead." - -"And where did you leave Lady Balscombe on the night you visited her?" -asked Norwood. - -"I do not answer that question till I know who you are," she said -boldly, frowning at him. - -"I will tell you," said Sir Rupert, who had hitherto kept silent. -"This, gentleman is Mr. Norwood, a solicitor--this Mr. Dowker of -Scotland Yard--and I am Sir Rupert Balscombe." - -"You--you Sir Rupert Balscombe," she said quickly. - -"Your sister's husband." - -"How do you know Lady Balscombe was my sister?" - -"I found it out," interposed Dowker, "from your father, Captain -Dicksfall." - -"My father," she murmured, turning pale, "you have seen him? - -"Yes." - -"Well," she said coldly, "now you have found out my relationship with -Lady Balscombe, what do you want to see me about?" - -"Her murder," said Dowker in a deep voice. - -She sprang forward with a sudden cry. - -"Her murder--her--what do you mean?" - -"I mean that the victim of the Jermyn Street murder, whom we thought -to be you, turns out to be Lady Balscombe." - -"My wife!" said Sir Rupert with a groan, burying his face in his -hands. - -"God!--it's too horrible," cried Lena, and sank down into a chair. -"Amelia dead--murdered--by whom?" - -"That's what we want to find out," said Norwood coldly. - -"What enemies had she?" muttered Miss Sarschine half to herself--"none -that would desire her death--I cannot understand. I cannot,"--then -suddenly struck by a thought she asked, "Why did you think the dead -woman was me?" - -"Because she was dressed in your clothes." - -"Yes! yes!" she said feverishly. "I can understand now--I can -understand." - -"Where did you see her last?" asked Norwood. - -"At her own house in Park Lane." - -"Did you leave her there?" - -"No! she left me." - -"Oh!" cried Dowker, a light breaking in on him, "now I understand--you -changed clothes there, and she left the house first." - -"She did--to go to Calliston's rooms." - -"I thought so," said Norwood with a cry of triumph, "it was Lady -Balscombe Desmond saw." - -"Desmond! Desmond!" she echoed. "What has he to do with this?" - -"Simply this--he is now in prison on a charge of murdering Lena -Sarschine." - -"I see you mistook my sister for me--but murder--I can't understand--I -can't understand," and she pressed her hand across her forehead. - -Sir Rupert looked up. - -"Listen to me," he said sternly, "a man's life hangs on your evidence, -so tell us all that happened between you and my wife on that night." - -There was a _carafe_ of water on the table, and filling a glass from -it Lena drank it up quickly, and then turned with ashen face to the -three men, who sat cold and silent before her. - -"I will tell you all," she said in a shaky voice, "and you can form -your own conclusions." - -The three settled themselves to listen, and she began to speak, in a -trembling voice, which gradually became steadier, the following story: - -"I need not tell you my early history, as you already know it. When I -left Folkestone I went abroad with Lord Calliston, and when we -returned he took the house for me in St. John's Wood. I stayed with -him, because I loved him, and he promised to marry me--a promise he -has since fulfilled. When my sister became known in London as Lady -Balscombe I soon found it out from Calliston, and then implored him to -make me his wife--he laughed, and said he would--then my sister fell -in love with him--not he with her, I swear, for he loves no one but -me, and in the end she persuaded him to elope with her. I discovered -the fact from my maid, who learned it from Lady Balscombe's maid, Anne -Lifford, and in despair I went to see Calliston, and implore him to -give up the mad idea. Blinded with rage and despair, I took a dagger -from the wall of my drawing-room intending to kill Calliston if he did -not agree to give up my sister--sounds melodramatic, I know, but look -what I had at stake! Calliston was not in, and I only saw Mr. Desmond, -who tried to persuade me to go home again. He tried to get the dagger -from me, and I flung it across the room. By accident, he put his foot -on it, and broke it. So seeing it was useless, I made no further -attempt to get it, and he put the pieces in his pocket. Then I went -home in despair, but could not rest. I went out with the intention of -catching an early train to Shoreham, concealing myself on board the -yacht, and then confront my sister when she arrived. - -"Then I thought I would call and implore her to give up my lover. She -had gone to a ball, but I waited for her, and when she came into the -room revealed myself. We had a stormy scene--she refused to give -Calliston up, and, at length, the only thing I could obtain from her -was this, that she would go to Calliston's chambers, ask him if his -love was for her or me, and when she got his answer return to me at -Park Lane. I agreed to this, but proposed, as she would compromise -herself in going to a bachelor's rooms at that hour of the night, that -she should put on my clothes, and, as we were very like one another, -she could pass herself off for me in the event of discovery. We -changed clothes, and she went away while I remained and locked myself -in her room. I waited nearly all night for her return, but as she did -not come I left the house about four o'clock in the morning, and went -to London Bridge Station, where I caught the 5.45 train to Shoreham. I -was dressed in Lady Balscombe's clothes, and went straight on board -the yacht without awaking suspicion, as they were expecting my sister. -I went into my cabin, and fell asleep, worn out with the events of the -night. When I woke, about ten o'clock, I found we were on our way, and -that Lord Calliston was on board. Being told that Lady Balscombe was -on board asleep, he did not trouble himself to see me, or else he -would have discovered the truth, but said I was not to be disturbed, -and gave orders for the yacht to start. When he did see me I need -hardly tell you his surprise. I told him all, and we had a terrible -battle over things. He wanted to go back again to England, but I swore -I'd throw myself overboard if he did, so he yielded, and in the end we -made it up. We started for the Azores, but the yacht became disabled -in a storm, and put in to a French port, where we were married by the -English Consul. Then we started back for England and arrived -yesterday. Lord Calliston went up to town on business, and I remained -here, so that is all I know of the affair." - -"Then you are now Lady Calliston?" said Sir Rupert. - -"Yes, he has done me that justice at last." - -"Then I hope you'll have a happier life and end than your sister," -said the baronet, bitterly; "but even what you have told us does not -solve the mystery of her death." - -"It solves a good many things, however," said Dowker, cheerfully, "it -proves the truth of Mr. Desmond's statement about the dagger, and -shows us how it was Lady Balscombe went to Lord Calliston's chambers -instead of Miss Sarschine--I beg pardon, Lady Calliston--but tell me, -madame, did your husband know of the murder before he left England?" - -"No; how could he?" she said, in surprise. "He came down to Shoreham -by an early train and the yacht left at once." - -"But he would be sure to see about it in the morning papers?" -suggested Norwood. - -"He would only see the announcement, but no details," said Dowker, -"and thinking Lady Balscombe was on board the yacht, and Miss -Sarschine at home, he would never think either of them was the -victim." - -"Well, gentlemen," said Sir Rupert, turning his haggard face towards -them, "now we have discovered the dead woman to have been my wife, -what is the next thing to be done?" - -"See Lord Calliston," answered Dowker, promptly. "I want to know all -his movements on that night." - -"You don't suspect him," said Lena, turning on him like a tiger. - -"I never said I did," he replied quietly. "I merely want to find out -his movements, and I daresay he'll have no hesitation in giving an -account of them." - -"Of course he won't," she replied wearily, "and now, as I've told you -all, you'll permit me to retire. I'm quite worn out." - -She bowed to the three men, then left the cabin slowly. When she -disappeared, Dowker shook himself briskly. - -"Well, gentlemen, we must go back to town at once, and see Lord -Calliston. I want an account of all his movements on that night, and I -already know where he was at nine o'clock." - -"Where?" asked Norwood, curiously. - -"At the 'Pink 'Un,' Soho, to see a boxing-match--afterwards I don't -know where he went, but I must have a satisfactory explanation." - -"But you don't think he murdered Lady Balscombe?" said the baronet. - -Dowker looked wise. - -"No," he replied, significantly, "I don't think he murdered Lady -Balscombe, but he might have murdered Lena Sarschine." - -"You mean he might have mistook my wife for his mistress." - -"Exactly!" - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. -THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN. - - -Mrs. Povy was delighted to see Calliston back again but she was not -going to betray any exultation, as she did not think him worthy of it, -so received him with great dignity and formality. Lord Calliston, a -tall, slender, dissipated young man, noticed the restraint of her -manners and commented thereon at once. - -"What's the matter with you, Totty," he asked, jocularly. "You are as -cross as two sticks--anyone been proposing to you?" - -"I wouldn't have them if they had," snapped Totty. "No, my lord, there -ain't nothing the matter with me as far as I'm aware." - -"Now, Mrs. Povy, that's nonsense," returned Calliston, disbelievingly. -"You're cross about something." - -"Which ain't to be wondered at," burst out Totty, wrathfully. "Not -'avin' bin brought up to being badgered and worrited by policemen." - -Calliston turned round in his chair, and looked at her keenly. - -"What do you mean?" he asked, sharply. - -"What I say, my lord," replied Totty. "After you 'ad gone some -policeman, called Dowker, or Bowker, came here and wanted to know all -about you." - -"Oh, Dowker!" said Calliston, thoughtfully, "that's the detective that -arrested poor old Myles." - -"You know all about it then, my lord?" said Totty, quickly. - -"I couldn't be in London twenty-four hours without knowing something -of the Jermyn Street affair," replied Calliston, coolly. "I know that -a woman was found dead, and they arrested my cousin as the murderer, -thinking the woman was Lena Sarschine." - -"And 'aint she?" gasped Mrs. Povy. - -"No, it was Lady Balscombe that was murdered." - -"But I thought she went off with you?" - -"Well, she didn't--shows I'm not as black as I'm painted," replied the -young man, "but the worst of it is they seem to think I'm mixed up in -the affair, and the detective was down at Brighton yesterday to see -me. I quite expect a call from him this morning to find out what I -know about the row." - -"You don't think Mr. Desmond guilty, do you, my Lord?" asked Mrs. -Povy, anxiously. - -"Pish! what a question to ask," said Calliston, contemptuously, -"you've been with our family for a long time, Mrs. Povy, and you ought -to know our character by this time--Hullo!" as a knock came to the -door, "who's that?" - -The door opened and his valet entered, soft-footed and deferential. - -"A gentleman to see you, my lord," he said, handing Calliston a card. - -"Humph! I thought so," said Calliston, glancing at the card; "show Mr. -Dowker up, Locker." - -Locker retired, and Mrs. Povy was about to follow his example when -Calliston stopped her. - -"Don't go, Mrs. Povy," he said, authoritatively, "you saw this man -before, so you can hear our interview--I may have to ask you -something." - -Totty acquiesced obediently, and went over to the window while Locker, -showing Mr. Dowker into the room, retired, closing the door after him. -Calliston opened the conversation at once. - -"Your name is Dowker--you are a detective--you want to see me about -the Jermyn Street murder?" - -"Quite correct, my lord," replied Dowker, quietly, though rather -astonished at the business like tone assumed by Calliston. "I want to -ask your lordship a few questions." - -"Indeed!" said Calliston, abruptly. "Oh, so you didn't find out -everything from the lady you saw on board the yacht?" - -"How do you know I was down at Brighton?" asked Dowker. - -"Simply enough," answered Calliston. "I received a telegram from my -sailing-master informing me of your visit. You saw Miss--Miss----" -here he glanced at Totty as if doubtful to announce his marriage, -"Miss Sarschine?" - -"Yes, I saw Miss Sarschine," replied Dowker, with an emphasis on the -last word. - -"And she doubtless told you of her visit to Lady Balscombe's house?" - -"She did." - -"And of Lady Balscombe's visit to these rooms?" - -"Correct." - -"Then what do you want to know from me?" demanded Calliston. - -Mr. Dowker ran his hand round the brim of his hat. - -"I want an account of your lordship's movements on that night," he -said smoothly. - -Lord Calliston sprang to his feet with a burst of laughter. - -"Good Heavens!" he cried. "Surely you don't think I killed Lady -Balscombe?" - -Dowker said nothing, but looked discreetly on the ground, upon which -Calliston frowned. - -"Don't carry the joke too far," he said, harshly. "I am a very -good-natured man, but there are limits to one's good-temper--in some -cases I would decline to answer your very impertinent questions, but -as I want to save my cousin's life, if possible, I will tell you what -I know--be seated." - -The detective bowed and took a seat, while Calliston turned to Mrs. -Povy. - -"You can go now," he said quietly, "and don't let me be disturbed -until I ring the bell." - -"Wait a minute," observed Dowker, as Mrs. Povy passed him. "You told -me it was Miss Sarschine visited Mr. Desmond on that night?" - -"And so it was," retorted Totty, defiantly, pausing at the door. "If I -was massacred this minute I'd swear it." - -"How are you so certain?" - -"Because I saw her face--as if I didn't know it, and another thing, -she wore the same dress and jacket as she did when she were here in -the afternoon--get along with you," said Totty, viciously, "telling me -I'm telling lies, an' am old enough to be your mother, only my sons -'ud be men and not skeletons," and with this sarcastic allusion to -Dowker's leanness, the indignant Mrs. Povy departed. - -"Ah!" said Dowker, thoughtfully, not paying any attention to her last -remark, "it was the resemblance and the change of clothes made her -make the mistake--humph----" - -"Now, then, Mr. Dowker," said Calliston, tapping the table -impatiently, "where do you want me to begin from?" - -"From the time your lordship arrived at 'The Pink 'Un.'" Calliston -stared at him in astonishment. - -"How the deuce did you know I was there?" he asked. - -"Easily enough," replied the detective, coolly; "the little urchin you -gave money to told me." - -"The devil!" said Calliston, in a vexed tone. "One seems to be -surrounded with spies--perhaps you can tell me how I spent the rest of -the night?" - -"No, I leave that to your lordship." - -"Then it's easily done," retorted the young lord, coolly. "I left -these rooms intending to go to Shoreham by the ten minutes past nine -train from London Bridge." - -"Was Lady Balscombe to meet you there?" - -"No--she intended to go first to the Countess of Kerstoke's ball in -order to avert suspicion, and then was to come down to Shoreham by the -first train in the morning--about five forty-five. At all events, I -left here about eight o'clock in order to go down, when I looked in at -my club for a few minutes, and heard of a sparring match coming off at -'The Pink 'Un,' and was induced by some friends to go. I thought I'd -not bother about going down by the nine-ten train, as I could catch -the early train in the morning, and go down with Lady Balscombe, so I -went to 'The Pink 'Un,' and saw the match--then I thought I'd go home -to my rooms. Just as I got to them a woman came out of the doorway, -and rushed away like a mad thing. If you remember, it was a foggy -night, but I was close enough to recognize the dress, and thought it -was Lena Sarschine. Just as I was puzzling over her sudden appearance, -a man passed me quickly, and went after the woman--they both -disappeared in the fog, and I thought I'd better follow and find out -what was up. I lost myself in the fog, and after wandering about for -about a couple of hours I managed to get a cab and go to my club; -there I met some fellows, and as I had to catch an early train, did -not think it worth while to go to bed. I fell asleep, however, on the -sofa, and the end of it was I went down to Shoreham by a late train, -and came on board the yacht. They told me Lady Balscombe was on board, -so I ordered the yacht to start at once, and it was only when we were -right out that I found out my mistake--until I came back to England, I -had no more idea than you that Lady Balscombe had been murdered." - -Dowker listened to all this with the deepest interest, and then asked -Lord Calliston a question. - -"Who was the man who passed you in pursuit of the woman?" - -"How should I know?" replied Calliston, fidgeting in his seat. - -"You did not know him?" - -"How could I recognise any one on such a foggy night?" - -"Had you any idea who it was?" persisted Dowker. - -"Well, I had," said Calliston reluctantly. "It is only fancy mind, -because I did not see the man's face, but I thought his figure and -bearing resembled some one I know." - -"And the name of that some one?" - -"Sir Rupert Balscombe." - -Dowker uttered an ejaculation of astonishment and summed up the whole -thing in his own mind. - -"Cock-and-bull story," he muttered to himself. "He has learned since -it was Lady Balscombe whom he saw and wants to put the blame on to the -husband--pish!" - -"Well," said Calliston anxiously. - -"It's a grave accusation to make," said Dowker. - -"I'm not making any accusation," retorted Calliston, violently. "I -only think it was Sir Rupert. I'm not accusing him of anything. Is -that all you want to know? If so, you'll oblige me by leaving my -rooms." - -Both men arose to their feet and looked at one another, and so -absorbed were they that they did not hear the door softly open behind -them. - -"Not yet, Lord Calliston," said Dowker calmly. "I want to know what -you did those two hours you were in the fog." - -"Do! nothing, except walk about looking for the woman I thought Lena -Sarschine." - -"And you found her?" - -"No." - -"Bah! what jury would believe that?" - -"Do you mean to accuse me of this murder?" asked Calliston furiously, -clenching his fists. - -"I accuse you of nothing," retorted Dowker coolly. "I merely put a -case to you--here is a man, yourself, going to run off with another -woman, when his mistress, as he thinks, comes to stop him--he sees her -leave his chambers in a furious rage, follows her--what is more -natural than that he should meet her, and she heaps reproaches on -him----" - -"Wait a minute," interrupted Calliston with a sneer, "your picture is -very tragic but quite wrong. Suppose I did meet the woman who left my -chambers, I would find not Lena Sarschine but Lady Balscombe, the very -woman I wanted to meet." - -Dowker rubbed his head, being for once in his life nonplussed by a man -as clever as himself. - -"It does sound wrong I confess," he said ruefully, "still you are in -an awkward situation. If you did not kill Lady Balscombe, what is the -name of the person who did?" - -"Lena Sarschine!" - -It was a third voice that uttered the name, and both men turned round -to see Lena Sarschine looking at them with blazing eyes. - -"Yes!" she said, advancing towards Dowker. "I knew you suspected -Calliston when you came to the yacht yesterday, and I came up to -prevent him meeting you. I am too late for that, but not too late to -prevent you arresting an innocent man. You want to know who murdered -my sister--I did--I was mad with rage and jealousy, I followed her -from her own house and saw her leave these rooms, we met and she told -me she was going down to Shoreham and defied me, so I killed her with -this dagger," and throwing a small silver mounted stiletto at the -detective's feet, her unnatural strength gave way and she sank on the -floor in a dead, faint, while the two men stood looking blankly at one -another. - -"My God!" said Calliston, "this is terrible!" - -"Yes," replied Dowker, "if it is true." - -"Don't you believe it?" - -"Not one word!" - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. -WHAT MYLES DESMOND THOUGHT. - - -Imprisonment is not calculated to raise a man's spirits, consequently -poor Myles, having now been shut up for some weeks, was in rather a -dismal frame of mind. Norwood informed him from time to time of the -discoveries that were being made, so, in spite of his quixotic ideas -concerning the promise he had made to Lady Balscombe, there seemed -every chance that he would soon be released from his perilous -position. - -After the discovery that Lady Balscombe was dead and not Lena -Sarschine, Norwood, accompanied by May Penfold, went to tell Myles -about it in the hope that this being the case he would now tell all -about his interview with the deceased, and thus possibly throw some -light on the mystery. Myles was delighted to see May and clasped her -fondly to his breast, while Norwood, finding the meeting of two lovers -somewhat trying, busied himself with his notes at the other end of the -cell. - -"I knew you would not forsake me, May," said Myles, tenderly, "you at -least do not believe me guilty." - -"Of course not," replied May, "nor does anyone else--Mr. Dowker, my -guardian and Mr. Ellersby all swear you are innocent." - -"Ellersby!" said Myles in surprise, "I thought after meeting me on -that night he would think I had committed the crime." - -"Well, he does not!" - -"I did not think Ellersby would prove such a friend," said Desmond -heartily. - -"I don't know if you'll consider him so much of a friend when I tell -you he wants to marry me." - -"What! marry you!" - -"Yes! he came yesterday morning to see me and asked me if I would -marry him." - -"And you? what did you answer?" - -"Can you ask?" she said, looking at him reproachfully. "I told him I -was engaged to you--he said he had heard so but was not certain if it -was true, and then----" - -"Go on," said Myles, seeing she hesitated. - -"Then he said you were in a dangerous position, but that if I promised -to marry him he would do his best to prove your innocence." - -"How can he do that?" asked Myles quietly. - -"I don't know," answered May, "that is what he said, then I refused -him again and said your innocence would be proved without any -assistance from him. After that I left the library, and shortly -afterwards he went away. Since then I have not seen him and I don't -want to." - -"It's very kind of Ellersby wanting to help me," said Myles, kissing -May, "but I don't think it was honourable of him to make your hand the -price of his help, knowing you were engaged to me." - -"He was not certain of that. You know everyone thought Lord Calliston -was my future husband." - -"They can hardly think so now," said Myles in a rather husky voice, -kissing her on the cheek. - -"As soon as you are ready to attend to business, Mr. Desmond," said -Norwood, coming forward, "I have some serious things to say." - -"Go on!" replied Desmond listlessly. - -"You said that on the return of Calliston's yacht you would be -released from the promise you made to the lady whom you saw on that -night." - -"Yes," answered Myles uneasily, "I did, but I don't think the yacht -will return for a long time." - -"You are wrong--the _Seamew_ is at Brighton now." - -"And Calliston?" gasped Desmond, a greyish pallor overspreading his -face. - -"Calliston is in London--and Lena Sarschine." - -"Lena Sarschine?" mutters Myles, with a quick indrawn breath. - -"Yes. We know now that Lady Balscombe was the woman who left the rooms -in anger, and was murdered in Jermyn Street." - -"True! True!" murmured Desmond. "It's quite true!" - -"You knew Lady Balscombe was murdered, and not Lena Sarschine?" asked -May with a cry. - -He bowed his head. - -"Yes. I saw Lady Balscombe on that night. She was dressed in Lena -Sarschine's clothes, and came to see Calliston. He was not there--I -was. She told me of the visit of her sister to her house, and how she -had come to learn the truth from Calliston's own lips. I told her it -was true that Lena Sarschine--or rather, Helena Dicksfall--was -Calliston's mistress. She was mad with anger, and wanted to go -straight back to her sister. Knowing if she did the two women would -have a row, and things might become serious, I tried to quiet her, but -was unsuccessful. In spite of all I could do, she rushed away outside, -and though I followed her in a few minutes, I was unable to find her, -as she had disappeared in the thick fog. I went along Piccadilly as -quickly as I could, thinking she had gone home, but after getting to -Park Lane and not finding her, I thought I had lost her on the way, as -she could not have walked as quickly as I did. I did not ask for her -at Park Lane, as that would have let the servants know she was out, -and I wanted to save her good name. I went back again along Piccadilly -down St. James's Street, in a vain hope of finding her. I was -unsuccessful, as you may guess, so was coming up St. James's Street on -my way back to Park Lane, when I met Ellersby, as you know. After that -I gave up the chase in despair and went home. Next morning I heard of -the murder in Jermyn Street, and saw by the description of the dress -it was Lady Balscombe, but as the idea got about it was Lena -Sarschine, I did not seek to contradict it." - -"Why?" asked Norwood. - -"For very strong reasons," replied Desmond coldly. - -"Were your very strong reasons connected with the murder?" - -"They were." - -"Cannot you tell them to me now?" - -"If you give me a few minutes to think I will let you know." - -"Very good," said Norwood cheerfully. - -"Why did you not tell us all this before?" asked May. - -"Because Lady Balscombe made me promise I would not tell of her -visit," said Myles. "When she found out Calliston had been playing her -false she left in a rage, saying she would go hark to her house, and -not jeopardise her position in society for his sake. If I had told you -of her visit I would have had to tell you all the rest." - -"Why place your neck in a noose for the sake of any woman?" said -Norwood. - -"I would not have done so," replied Myles. "If it came to the worst I -would have told all, but I wanted to remain true to my promise as long -as I could." - -"Whom did you think Calliston had gone off with?" - -"At first I thought no one," replied Myles slowly, "but when you came -and questioned me about Lena Sarschine, I remembered the change of -clothes, and, of course, knowing they were twins--for Lady Balscombe -told me all on that night--I guessed that Lena Sarschine had taken her -sister's place." - -"So far so good," said Norwood. "But now for your strong reasons not -to tell the real name of the dead woman?" - -Myles grew pale again, and bit his nether lip fiercely. Then he turned -towards May and took both her hands. - -"Can you bear a shock?" he asked, looking searchingly at her. - -"Yes," she replied faintly. - -"Good heavens!" thought Norwood. "Surely he isn't going to confess he -murdered the woman himself?" - -Myles paused a moment, and was then about to speak, when the door of -the cell was opened and Dowker entered in a state of suppressed -excitement. - -"Good morning, Miss Penfold and gentlemen," he said rapidly. "I have -some news--good news--for you!" - -"About what?" asked Norwood curiously. - -"This Jermyn Street case," replied Dowker. "I have been to see Lord -Calliston, and found out his movements on that night." - -"Do they incriminate him?" asked Norwood. - -"If they did it would not much matter," replied the detective, "for I -have discovered the real criminal." - -"What?" cried Norwood and Miss Penfold, while Myles said nothing, but -fixed his eyes eagerly on Dowker's face. - -"Yes--she has confessed." - -"She!" cried May. "Is it a woman?" - -"It is--Lena Sarschine!" - -"Lena Sarschine!" echoed the three in astonishment. - -"The same. She has confessed that she followed her sister on that -night and killed her through jealousy." - -"What weapon did she use?" asked Desmond, disbelievingly. - -"This," replied Dowker, and produced the dagger Lena had thrown at his -feet. - -"Do you believe this story?" asked Desmond, looking at Dowker. - -"At first I did not believe one word," answered the detective slowly, -"but I am now doubtful, as I don't see what she would gain by -confessing herself guilty of a crime she had not committed." - -"I can tell you what she would gain," said Desmond vehemently. -"Yes--she loves Calliston devotedly, and thought you were trying to -bring home the crime to him. Did she overhear your conversation?" - -"Some of it," admitted Dowker reluctantly. - -"Then that explains all," said Myles triumphantly. "She thought -Calliston was in danger of being arrested for the murder, and swore -she did it order to save him. Remember she has an excitable nature, -and her nerves are overstrung with the horror of her sister's death. -Ten to one she did not know what she was saying." - -"But this dagger?" began Norwood. - -"Pish!" retorted Myles. "I don't believe that toy had anything to do -with it. Find out if it's poisoned, for I'll stake my existence it is -not. No; Lena Sarschine did not commit the crime!" - -"You seem to be very certain," said Dowker. "Perhaps you can tell me -who did?" - -"I can't tell you for certain," retorted Desmond, "but I have my -suspicions. You wanted to know my reasons for not divulging the -identity of the deceased," he went on turning to Norwood, "I can now -give them, as this self-accusation of Lena Sarschine's is too absurd -to be allowed to stand. I told you I did not see Lady Balscombe again -on that night. I told a lie--I did. When I left the house to follow -her and see that she got home safely, I went along Piccadilly, as I -told you. Under a gas lamp I saw Lady Balscombe standing talking to a -man. They were quarrelling, and the man's voice was raised in anger. -Suddenly saw the man put his hand to her throat and wrench something -away. Lady Balscombe gave a cry and fled across the street in the -direction of St. James's Street, followed by the man. They were -swallowed up in the fog, and I saw no more of them. It was the -direction they took that led me into St. James's Street on that night. -If you remember, there was a mark on Lady Balscombe's neck, as if -something had been wrenched off, so you can now understand the reason. -I believe the man inflicted the fatal wound at the same time. She fled -from him, went blindly down St. James's Street, into Jermyn Street, -and sank in a dying condition on the steps where she was found." - -"Did you recognise the man?" asked Dowker, who had been listening -intently to this story. - -"I did." - -"And who was it?" cried the trio. - -"Sir Rupert Balscombe," said Myles. - -May fell into Norwood's arms with a stifled cry, but Dowker began to -speak rapidly: - -"Why, Lord Calliston also said he saw him going after Lady Balscombe. -By Jove! so he is the criminal after all. What a fool I've been--I'm -off!" - -"Where to?" asked Norwood. - -"I want to find out where the locket and chain is that Sir Rupert -wrenched off his wife's neck." - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. -WHAT DOWKER DISCOVERED. - - -After hearing the revelations made by Lord Calliston and Myles -Desmond, concerning the movements of Sir Rupert Balscombe on the night -of the murder, Dowker had no doubt in his own mind that the baronet -was guilty of the crime. Rumour speaking truly for once said they -lived unhappily together owing to Lady Balscombe's numerous -infidelities, and it was only the honour of his name that prevented -Sir Rupert applying for a divorce. Now, however, he had done so, as -his wife's apparent flight with Lard Calliston was of too glaring a -character to be overlooked even by the most complacent husband. - -Dowker, however, did not believe in the genuineness of the -application, merely looking upon it as a clever piece of acting on the -part of a wily scoundrel to cloak his crime. In the detective's -opinion Sir Rupert had simulated rage on hearing of his wife's -apparent iniquity--had applied for a divorce knowing she was dead--and -had gone down to the yacht with a full knowledge that he would not see -Lady Balscombe. In fact, all through he had acted a very clever part, -in order to ward off suspicion that he was guilty of the crime of -murder. - -What Dowker now wanted to find was the locket which Sir Rupert had -wrenched off his wife's neck, and also the weapon used in the -committal of the crime. It had been clearly shown that the Malay kriss -taken from Cleopatra Villa could not have been used by anyone, so the -baronet must have had some dagger of his own, which was now doubtless -in his possession. If these two things could be found, their discovery -coupled with the evidence of Calliston and Desmond would be quite -sufficient to prove Sir Rupert guilty, unless, indeed, he could prove -himself innocent, of which there did not seem to be much chance. - -Dowker did not go at once to Park Lane as he was anxious to know how -Lena Sarschine, or rather Lady Calliston, was after her hysterical -confession of guilt, so he drove down to Cleopatra Villa, and on -being shown in to the drawing-room was confronted by Lord Calliston. -That young nobleman looked haggard and worn out, so that in spite of -his conduct, which had led to the murder of one woman and the -self-accusation of another, the detective felt sorry for him. - -"What do you want now?" he asked irritably. "Have you come to arrest -my wife?" - -"Your wife," said Dowker, pretending to have heard this for the first -time. - -"Yes," replied Calliston, boldly; "we were married in France and she -is now my wife. I don't believe her guilty of this crime--do you?" - -"I told you this morning I did not," said the detective, quietly. "It -was only a statement made by her to save you, because she thought you -were guilty." - -"What do you say?" asked Calliston abruptly. - -"If you had asked me this morning, I should have said the -circumstances were suspicious," said Dowker smoothly, "but now I can -say heartily that you are innocent." - -"How do you know I am?" demanded Calliston ironically. - -"Because I have found out the real criminal, at least, one I believe -to be the real criminal." - -"Sir Rupert Balscombe?" - -"Yes, Sir Rupert Balscombe." - -"I thought so," said Calliston bitterly. "I know he hated his wife." - -"And had he not reason?" asked Dowker, significantly. - -Calliston flushed and turned his face away. - -"I'm not a saint," he said in a low voice, "and though my conduct may -appear to you to have been wrong I could hardly help myself, it would -have taken a stronger man than myself to withstand the temptation." - -"And now?" - -"Now," replied Calliston, turning towards the detective, "I have -married the only woman I ever really cared about, and we are going a -tour round the world as soon as she is well--that is, if she ever does -get well." - -"Is she then so ill?" - -"Brain fever," replied Calliston curtly. - -"I'm very sorry to hear it," said Dowker quietly, "for she is a noble -woman." - -Calliston made no reply, but flung himself down on a couch and buried -his face in his hands, so, without saying another word, Dowker left -the room and made his final exit from Cleopatra Villa. - -It was now about four o'clock in the afternoon, so Dowker drove to the -Park Lane mansion and asked for Sir Rupert Balscombe. The footman told -him the baronet was out, but added, on hearing his name, that Miss -Penfold had given orders if he called that he was to be shown into the -library, as she wished to see him. Dowker was pleased at this as he -wanted to ask May some questions, and followed the servant in a very -pleased frame of mind. - -May Penfold was seated by a small table talking eagerly to Mr. -Norwood, who sat near her with a pocket-book open on his knee. When -Dowker entered May arose and went forward in a curiously eager manner. -Her face was very pale, and there were dark circles under her eyes, -but her features wore a very hopeful expression, for she was now -certain of saving her lover, though on the other hand she might lose -her guardian. - -"I'm so glad you've come, Mr. Dowker," she said quickly. "Mr. Norwood -and myself have been talking over the position of the case and we want -your assistance." - -"I will be delighted to give it," answered Dowker gravely, taking a -seat. "I am anxious to make Mr. Desmond all the reparation in my -power, as I was the unconscious cause of all his trouble." - -"You only acted according to your duty," said Norwood in a -business-like tone, "the evidence against my client was very strong, -but the evidence against Sir Rupert----" - -"Is stronger still," finished the detective. "Exactly; but we have to -find out that evidence. Lord Calliston and Mr. Desmond can swear they -saw him in Piccadilly following his wife, and the latter saw him -wrench the locket off his wife's neck; now I want to find that locket, -and also--if possible--the dagger with which the crime was committed." - -Norwood shrugged his shoulders. - -"You may be certain he would not keep dangerous evidence like that -about." - -"Pardon me; I think he would, because, taking the case as a whole it -would have been impossible to bring his guilt home to him but for the -circumstance of his being recognised by Lord Calliston and Mr. -Desmond; even if he did not keep the dagger he would certainly retain -the locket." - -"Why?" asked May. - -"Because he would never dream that there would be any question of the -locket being brought in evidence--had it not been for the mark on the -neck of the wrenching off, no one would have ever known that Lady -Balscombe wore a locket." - -"Oh! but I knew," said May eagerly; "she had a large gold locket with -a thin gold chain--she always wore it." - -"Why did she attach such value to it?" asked Norwood. - -"I don't know; but she wore it morn, noon and night." - -"Can you describe it?" demanded Dowker, knitting his brows. - -May Penfold thought a moment. - -"It was an old-fashioned piece of jewellery," she said at length; "I -never saw it very closely, as Lady Balscombe kept it to herself, but -it had two curls of hair--light and dark--twined together on one side, -and on the other I think there was a portrait." - -"Of whom?" - -"I don't know--I never saw it." - -"Might it not have been Sir Rupert?" - -May Penfold laughed. - -"I don't think Sir Rupert and Lady Balscombe were so fondly attached -as all that--it's more probable it was Lord Calliston." - -"Have you any idea where Sir Rupert could have put it?" asked Dowker, -glancing round the room. - -"Not the least in the world," replied May. "He might have it in his -bed-room or dressing-room--or it might be here." - -"Here!" echoed both the men, rising. - -"Well, Sir Rupert was always in this room," said May. "He mostly sat -at this desk, so perhaps he placed it in one of the drawers thinking -no one would ransack his private papers." - -The desk she alluded to was a massive piece of furniture, beautifully -carved. There were innumerable drawers down each side--a morocco -covered writing-board, and at the back of this, more drawers--while -the centre was a fantastic piece of carving, representing the head of -Shakespeare with characters from his dramas all round him. Owing to -the elaborate carving the wood was wonderfully massive and thick, so -that the whole desk looked a remarkably handsome piece of furniture. - -"It belonged to Lady Balscombe's father, Captain Dicksfall," said May -as they looked at it, "and he gave it to Sir Rupert as a wedding -present." - -Dowker bent down and pulled at the drawers, but they were all locked, -whereupon he straightened himself and looked somewhat disconsolate. - -"Not much chance of getting in there," he said in an annoyed tone, -"and we cannot break open the drawers as we have no authority to do -so." - -May Penfold laughed a little maliciously. - -"In spite of your being a detective," she said lightly, "I am able to -help you--the mouse will gnaw the net and release the lion--if Sir -Rupert has hidden the locket anywhere, it will be in the secret -hiding-place of this desk." - -"Is there one?" asked Norwood, looking at it. - -"Yes! I was examining the desk one day, and Lady Balscombe told me -there was a secret drawer which nobody knew but herself--not even Sir -Rupert, as her father had not told him about it on presenting the -desk. I asked her where it was, but she refused to tell me, and said I -could find out." - -"Did you try?" asked Dowker. - -"Of course I did--I am a woman, and therefore curious," replied May -with a smile, "I discovered it one day by accident, so I will now show -it to you." - -"Wait a moment," said Norwood. "If Sir Rupert did not know of the -existence of this secret place, he can hardly have hidden anything in -it." - -May Penfold's face fell. - -"No--that's true," she replied dismally, "however, I will show it to -you, and then we will find some means to open these other drawers.' - -"The end of this will be a search-warrant," said Dowker decisively. - -May did not reply; but leaning on the desk, pressed her fingers on the -ears of the Shakespeare head--a sharp click was heard--and she lifted -out the whole face of the carving, disclosing a wide place, but with -no depth, so that any articles placed therein would have to stand on -end. As she removed the carving Dowker gave an exclamation and bent -forward, for there before them was an old-fashioned locket, a slender -gold chain, and an arrow-head. The three looked at one another in -silence, which was broken by Dowker. - -"This," he said, taking up the locket, "is without doubt what you -allude to, Miss Penfold--see, there is a fair curl and a dark curl of -hair on this side, and on the other the face of a man--or rather a -boy." - -And indeed the face looked like that of a boy--smooth face--black -hair--clearly-cut features and dark eyes. - -"Who can it be?" said May, gazing at it. "I've seen that face before." - -"So have I," answered Dowker with decision, "there is something in it -familiar; but is this the locket you have seen Lady Balscombe wear?" - -"Yes--and this is the chain." - -"So far, so good," said Norwood, taking up the arrow-head, "but what is -this?" - -Dowker looked at it for a moment, and then smiled. - -"I would advise you to take care of that," he said quietly, "it's -poisoned." - -"Poisoned!" echoed Norwood, and quickly replaced it in the drawer, -"how do you know?" - -"Because I am certain that it is the weapon with which the crime was -committed--we were misled by the Malay kriss, but this is a -certainty." - -"Then you think Sir Rupert guilty?" asked May in dismay. - -"Sir Rupert is jealous of his wife--he follows her on that night, -knowing she is going to elope--meets her in Piccadilly, and is seen -following her by one witness--is overheard having angry words with her -by a second, who also sees him wrench a locket off her neck--his wife -is found dead--and in a secret drawer, known only to Sir Rupert, -yourself, and the dead woman, is found the locket and the weapon with -which the crime was committed. I think the case is clear enough." - -"What will you do now?" asked Norwood. - -"Put them back for the present," said Dowker, replacing the locket and -chain, "and wait here for Sir Rupert. I will question him. He will -deny it. Then I will confound him by showing him the evidence of his -guilt. Will you kindly replace the carving, Miss Penfold." - -May did as she was told in silence, for though this discovery would -save her lover, yet she was deeply grieved at the thought of what it -meant to her guardian. - -"If his wife had been a good woman this would not have happened," she -said bitterly. - -"Were all people good I'd have no occupation," said Dowker drily. - -At this moment they heard footsteps outside and a man talking, whose -voice May immediately recognised. - -"It's Mr. Ellersby," she said quickly. "He has come to see Sir Rupert -about my marriage. I cannot meet him." - -"Neither can I," said Dowker, "as I want to see Sir Rupert alone. Is -there no place where we can wait?" - -"Yes, here," said May, and walked to the end of the room, where there -was a door leading to a smaller apartment, before which hung a -curtain. "Let us all go in here till he is gone." - -Dowker and Norwood took up their hats and went after her into the -room, leaving the library quiet and deserted. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. -THE END OF IT ALL. - - -Spencer Ellersby, well-dressed, nonchalant and languid, entered the -room with a smile on his face, which faded quickly when he found there -was no one present to receive him. - -"I thought you said Miss Penfold was here," he observed sharply, -turning to the footman who was showing him in. - -"So she was, sir," stammered the servant in some confusion, "and two -gentlemen." - -"Gentlemen!" muttered Ellersby to himself, taking a chair, "some of -those empty-headed men about town, I suppose." - -"I think Miss Penfold must have gone up to the drawing-room, sir," -said the servant, turning towards the door. "Will I take your name up, -sir?" - -"No," replied Ellersby, with a yawn. "I want to see Sir Rupert just -now, so I'll wait here till he comes in, and go upstairs afterwards." - -"Very good, sir," said the footman, and was just retiring when Sir -Rupert, looking jaded and worried, entered the room, upon which -Ellersby rose to his feet, and the footman going out, closed the door -behind him. - -"Ah, Sir Rupert," he said carelessly, "I am so glad to see you, as I -thought I'd have to wait for some time. I must apologise for coming -into this room, but your servant said Miss Penfold was here." - -"Have you seen her?" said Sir Rupert, moodily, taking his seat in -front of the desk and swinging round the seat so as to face his -visitor. - -"No, he made a mistake. She is up in the drawing-room, so I am going -to see her later on." - -"Meanwhile?" demanded the baronet. - -"I am going to see you," finished Ellersby, smoothly, resuming his -seat. - -Balscombe raised his eyebrows. - -"What about?" - -"A very important subject--marriage." - -"Whose marriage?" - -"My own." - -"What have I to do with your marriage?" - -"A great deal," replied Ellersby calmly, "because I want to marry Miss -Penfold." - -"Impossible," said Balscombe pointedly, "quite impossible." - -"How so?" asked the other coolly. "I have a good position, plenty of -money, and my character is good." - -"Your moral character?" sneering. - -"Oh, that," with a laugh, "is no better nor worse than other young -men, so I would like your answer. Will you favour my suit?" - -"No." - -"Why not?" - -"Because, in the first place, my ward is going to marry Myles -Desmond." - -"Marry Myles Desmond!" replied Ellersby, with a sneer. "A man lying in -prison under a charge of murder." - -"He will be proved innocent of that charge." - -"By whom?" - -"'That's my business," retorted Balscombe, with a scowl Ellersby -laughed in a most irritating manner. - -"So that is your first objection," he said lightly. "Pray what is your -second?" - -For answer Balscombe turned to his desk, and unlocking a drawer, took -therefrom a bundle of old letters tied with a blue ribbon. - -"This is my second objection," he said, holding them up. "Perhaps you -recognise these letters?" - -Spencer Ellersby turned pale and half rose from his seat. - -"Where did you find them?" - -"In the secret drawer of this desk," replied the baronet. "My wife, -thinking I did not know the hiding-place, put them there for safety; -but her father told me about the secret drawer when he gave me the -desk, and one day I opened it idly, not expecting to find anything, -when I found these." - -Ellersby laughed discordantly. - -"And what are those wonderful letters?" - -"You need not pretend ignorance," said the baronet coldly. "These are -letters written by you to my wife at Folkestone under her maiden name -of Amelia Dicksfall, and which prove that you were her lover long -before she met me." - -"I acknowledge it," said Ellersby insolently. "And what have you to -say about it?" - -"Simply this," replied Balscombe, rising, "that you may thank God that -I do not kill you where you sit. But my wife proved to be such a -worthless woman she is not fit to be defended, and knowing this, you -have the daring to ask me for my ward's hand. Do you think I would -give her to you, a scoundrel, a profligate?--never!" - -"I think you will," said Ellersby coldly, "for the very good and -sufficient reason that I can force you to." - -"How so?" - -"You know well enough," sneered the other. "If the police ask me who -committed the Jermyn Street murder, I can tell them who did it--Rupert -Balscombe." - -"You scoundrel!--do you mean to say I killed my wife?" - -"I can swear it--and I will, too, if you don't give me your ward!" - -"It's a cursed lie!" cried the baronet, white with fury; "where are -your proofs?" - -"Open that hiding place, and you'll find them." - -Sir Rupert gave a stifled cry, and staggered back against the desk, -while Ellersby looked at him with a smile of triumph. The three -listeners in the other room were standing close to the door, with -greedy ears drinking in every word of this strange conversation. - -The baronet with an effort recovered himself and, turning to the desk, -touched the secret spring and took down the carving. There lay the -locket, the chain, and the fatal arrow. - -"There is the locket you wrenched off your wife's neck on that night," -said Ellersby, pitilessly, "and there is the poisoned arrow-head with -which you committed the crime!" - -Balscombe took out the objects and looked at them vacantly. - -"What devilry is this?" he said, fiercely. "This is the locket I -know--the locket that contains your hair and your picture, curse you! -But the arrow-head--I know nothing of that." - -"Bah!--who would believe you?" replied the other, mockingly; "it is in -your secret drawer!" - -"How did you know this hiding-place?" demanded Balscombe. - -"I never said I knew it." - -"No--but you said your evidence was in there, so you must have seen -these things before. I believe you put the arrow-head there yourself." - -"Did I, indeed?" said Ellersby with a sneer. "Where would I get the -arrow-head?--don't blame me for a crime you committed yourself." - -"I did not commit it!" shouted Balscombe in a frenzy. "I acknowledge I -knew of my wife's intended elopement, and came up from Berkshire to -prevent it. I was too late, and went to Calliston's rooms to see him. -I missed the door in the fog, and when I found it, the first thing I -saw was my guilty wife leaving the house. I followed her, and caught -up to her--she shrieked, and I gave way to my just anger. I knew she -had this locket, and thought it contained Calliston's portrait, not -yours, so wrenched it off her neck to make sure. She ran away across -the street and I lost her in the fog. I swear I saw no more of her on -that night till I read of her death." - -"You knew it was your wife that was dead?" - -"I was not certain. I heard the _Seamew_ had sailed with Lady -Balscombe on board, and thought that the dead woman was some wretched -street-walker with whom my wife had changed clothes--but I was not -certain she was dead till I saw Lena Sarschine on board the -_Seamew_--then I knew my wife was the victim of the Jermyn Street -tragedy, but I swear I did not kill her." - -Ellersby laughed scoffingly. - -"Of course it is to your interest to say that--but who will believe -you with such strong evidence against you?" - -"Then I suppose you mean to denounce me?" said the baronet coldly. - -"Not if you agree to give me the hand of May Penfold." - -"I cannot force her inclinations." - -"No--but you are her guardian and can influence her." - -"If I refuse?" - -"You do so at your own risk." - -"And that risk?" - -"Means hanging to you!" said Ellersby, brutally. - -The two men stood looking fixedly at one another, and for a few -moments there was a dead silence, while the three listeners waited -with beating hearts for the end of the conversation which seemed to -promise the solution of this extraordinary mystery. - -Balscombe remained for a time in deep thought, and then looked up with -a look of determination in his eyes. - -"I decline to accede to your demand," he said, firmly. - -"Then you must take the consequence." - -"I am prepared to do so." - -Ellersby paused for a minute. - -"Will you tell me the reason for your decision?" - -"First, because I am innocent of the crime you accuse me of and -second, I believe you placed this poisoned arrow-head here in order to -implicate me in the murder." - -"I can speak openly to you," said Ellersby, coolly, "because you are in -my power. I did place the poisoned arrow-head there, in order to -secure evidence against you!" - -"Then it was you killed my wife!" cried Balscombe, stepping towards -him with the arrow-head in his hand. - -"I never said I did!" retorted Ellersby, audaciously, "but I can tell -you this--I met your wife on that night after you left her, and I -asked her for those letters as they compromised both her and myself. -She told me where they were and described the hiding-place to me. Last -time I was here I searched and discovered the secret, but the letters -were not there." - -"No. They were removed by me." - -"So I see--but if I did not find the letters, I found something -better--the locket with my portrait which you took from your wife's -neck on that night, so as I wanted to marry Miss Penfold and wanted -you to help me, I placed there the arrow-head so as to force you for -your own safety to help me. I have succeeded, and you must do what I -order, or swing for it." - -"You devil!" cried Balscombe, madly. "It was you who murdered my -unhappy wife--do not deny it!--I can see it in your cowardly face--I -will accuse you before the world, and hang you for your crime!" - -"Bah!--who will believe your word against mine? There is no evidence -against me!" - -"Your own confession!" - -"Does not include a confession of murder--what I have said to you in -private I will deny in public--you have no witnesses." - -"You lie--here are three!" - -The two men turned round with a cry, and there, on the threshold of -the room stood May Penfold with a look of triumph in her eyes--and -behind, Dowker and Norwood. Ellersby saw he was lost, and with a harsh -shriek made a bound for the door of the library; but before he could -reach it Balscombe threw himself on him and bore him to the ground. -The two men rolled on the floor fighting desperately, and then Dowker -joined in to assist in securing Ellersby, when suddenly his struggles -ceased and he became quite passive. - -"It's all over," he said quietly, with a livid face, as Balscombe -arose to his feet. "I will escape you yet." - -"You will not escape the gallows," cried Balscombe, panting. - -"Yes, I will," sneered Ellersby, with a ghastly smile; "and by your -own act. You forgot you had the poisoned arrow-head in your hand, and -you have wounded me--see." - -He held up his right hand and there they saw a long red ragged wound -where the weapon had torn him. - -"In ten minutes I will be a dead man," he said quietly. "Not all the -science in the world can save me now." - -"Curse it!" cried Dowker in a rage, while the other three remained -silent with horror. - -"Ah! you are angry at my escaping from you," said Ellersby, with his -usual cynicism. "Console yourself, my astute thief-catcher, my capture -would not have redounded to your credit as you were quite on the -wrong scent. You suspected Desmand, Calliston, Lena Sarschine and -Balscombe; everyone but the right one. I have fooled you to the end, -and, now I am caught, will yet escape your clutches." - -May Penfold stepped towards him. - -"As you have sinned so deeply," she said, in a low tone, "you had -better make reparation while you may and confess all, so as to release -Myles from prison. Meanwhile, I will go for a doctor." - -He signed her feebly to remain. - -"No doctor can do me any good," he said faintly, "but I will tell all. -Mr. Dowker will, perhaps, write it down, and if I'm not too far gone -I'll--sign it." - -"I will write your confession," said Norwood, and, sitting down at the -desk, he took up a pen and waited. - -It was a strange scene. Ellersby lying on the floor with his eyes half -closed, Balscombe leaning against the desk, with his clothes all torn -and a white haggard face, and May Penfold standing beside Dowker, -looking with pitying eyes on the dying man at her feet. - -As he knew he had not long to live, Ellersby commenced at once: - -"I am, as you know, the son of a West Indian, and came to England to -be educated. I was brought up, in early childhood, by a negro nurse, -and before I left Barbadoes she gave me an arrow-head, which, she told -me, was steeped in deadly poison, and that one scratch would kill. -Something to do with their Obi business, I suppose. She told me to use -it on my enemies, but I was not so savage as she was, though I have -got negro blood in my veins, and I did not bother much about it. I -finished my education and went into society. One time, while down at -Folkestone, I met Amelia Dicksfall, and loved her--you do not know how -I loved her--with all the mad passion of a Creole. She led me on -till I was her slave and then refused to marry me, for at least two -years--for what reason I was then ignorant, but now I know it was -because she wanted to marry a title, and kept me in hand so as to -become my wife if she failed to realise her ambition. I went abroad -and when I returned a short time ago, I found she had married -Balscombe. I saw her and reproached her with her treachery, but she -only laughed at me. Then I heard how she carried on with Calliston and -swore I would kill her if she preferred him to me. She denied that she -cared for him, and then I heard about her projected elopement and -determined to make one more appeal to her. If that failed I took an -oath I would kill her with the poisoned arrow-head. I thought I would -see her on that night, so, dressing myself in evening dress, I put the -arrow head in my pocket and went along to Park Lane. I was told she -had gone to the Countess of Kerstoke's ball and, thinking this was a -mere subterfuge on her part, I thought I would go to Calliston's -chambers and see him. I went along to his rooms in Piccadilly, but as -I did not know where they were it was some time before I found them. I -was going in when I saw Balscombe waiting about, and wondered what he -was doing there. While thus waiting a woman came out, and I recognised -Lady Balscombe at once. I saw Sir Rupert go after her and witnessed -their dispute under the lamp. I saw him wrench off the locket and then -Lady Balscombe fled. I followed, and found her wandering vaguely about -in the fog. She recognised me and we had a stormy interview. I -insisted on her coming to my hotel and going away with me in the -morning, pointing out that now her husband had seen her coming out of -Calliston's chambers he would apply for a divorce. I then asked her -about the letters and she told me where they were. I said I would get -them, and then Sir Rupert would never know with whom she had gone -away. She agreed to go with me, and went as far as Jermyn Street; then -she refused to go further, saying she loved Calliston and hated me. -She insisted on going down to Shoreham in the morning, and taunted me -so that I got mad with anger and determined to kill her. So I -apparently agreed to what she said and asked her to kiss me for the -last time. She did so, and when I was embracing her I wounded her in -the neck with the poisoned arrow-head. She thought it was only a pin -pricking her, but when she was dying I told her what I had done and -said that now she could never be any other man's mistress or wife. She -died shortly afterwards, and then I thought about saving myself, so -went along to the Countess of Kerstoke's ball, in order to prove an -_alibi_ should it be necessary. In coming back I went up the steps -where I had left her to see if she was still there, thinking the body -might have been discovered. It was still lying there, however, so I -called the policeman. The rest you know. As to the arrow-head, I -placed it in there in looking for the letters, in order to throw the -blame on Balscombe, because I knew all his movements on that night -were in favour of the presumption of his having committed the crime." - -He paused at this point, for his eyes were becoming glazed and his -voice was faint and weak. Norwood had written out the words that had -fallen from his lips, and now brought the paper and a pen, in order -for him to sign it. The dying man raised himself on his elbow with an -effort and signed his name with difficulty in the place indicated by -the lawyer. When this was done, Balscombe and Norwood affixed their -signatures as witnesses; then the latter placed the confession in an -envelope. - -The action of the poison being very rapid, Ellersby was now in a -half-comatose condition; his eyes being closed and his breathing -stertorous. He began to speak again in a drowsy voice, which sounded -as if he was far away: - -"It's the irony of Fate . . . brought me here . . . to my death. I came -to conquer and remain to die . . . . . . . . . The old Greeks were -right . . . . . . . Man . . . sport of Fate . . . . . . Nemesis -. . . . wins hands down . . . . . . . if there is . . . . . . world -. . . . . . . . beyond . . . . I . . . I . . . . find . . . . ." - -His slow monotonous voice stopped here and his head fell back; to all -appearances he was asleep, but the onlookers knew it was his last -earthly sleep, and when he awoke it would be in another world. - -The calm placid light of the evening stole softly through the windows -and shone on the still face of the dead man, and on the awe-struck -spectators. - - - - -EPILOGUE. - - -The Piccadilly puzzle being now solved, nothing remained but to settle -all matters in connection therewith, which was speedily done. The -publication of the whole story caused a great deal of excitement, and -of course all the newspapers quoted the well-known proverb that "Truth -is stranger than fiction." - -Myles Desmond was released from prison, and became a kind of hero -owing to the fortitude with which he had sustained his unpleasant -position. Sir Rupert gave his consent to May Penfold's marriage with -him, and it took place at St. George's, Hanover Square, with great -splendour, and the happy pair departed to the Continent for their -honeymoon. On their return Myles published a novel he had written, -which was a great success, and being in an independent position owing -to his wife's fortune he had the peculiar satisfaction of writing to -please himself and not the public. - -Lord Calliston did not remain in London long, as the part he had -played in the terrible drama was not by any means an enviable one; so -as soon as Lena Sarschine, now Lady Calliston, recovered from her -illness they went away to the South Seas in the _Seamew_, where among -the gorgeous scenery of the islands, they soon forgot the one tragic -episode of their lives. - -Sir Rupert did not marry again but left London for his place in the -country, where he shut himself up like a hermit and steadily refused -to see anyone. His faith in womankind was gone, and not having any -heirs, a distant cousin is now eagerly waiting for his demise, as he -is anxious to enjoy the Balscombe estates and the large income -appertaining thereto. - -Flip was taken off the streets by Dowker and put to school, where his -natural sharpness was wonderfully developed, and he is now looking -forward to the time when Dowker intends to instruct him in the -mysteries of the detective craft and make him his successor. - -As to Dowker, he was a good deal disappointed at the unlooked-for -termination to the case, for had it not been for the accident of -overhearing the conversation in the library, he would most certainly -have done his best to hang Sir Rupert Balscombe. As it turned out that -the baronet was innocent, he felt only too glad that he had been saved -from the committal of such a terrible crime as condemning a guiltless -man to an ignominious death, but to this day, he always refers to the -Piccadilly Puzzle as the most extraordinary case that ever came under -his experience. - - - - -THE END. - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Piccadilly Puzzle, by Fergus Hume - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PICCADILLY PUZZLE *** - -***** This file should be named 55376-8.txt or 55376-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/3/7/55376/ - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by Google Books - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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