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."