The careless manner in which Kirk seemed to treat the grave issue of my
life enraged me. This man, who in Chiswick posed as shabby and
broken-down, was certainly no ordinary person. He was a shrewd, clever
adventurer, possessed of resources that had even astonished Sir Mark
Edwards. He had entrapped me, for some hidden reason of his own, and
now he held me in a hateful bondage.
But with the vivid recollection of Mabel upon me, I resolved to defy
this enemy of mine at all costs. I was only awaiting the return of the
false Professor to unmask the pair, to call a constable, and to give
them both in charge.
What the result would be, I cared not. I should, however, at least be
afforded an opportunity to make revelations in the police-court which
they would find it somewhat awkward to refute. Surely by doing this I
should be performing a work of public benefit? The pair were clever
swindlers, reaping the harvest from that secret discovered by the
unfortunate man who had been purposely killed.
"You appear, Mr. Kirk, to consider me an absolute fool!" I said,
interrupting his song.
"I do, my dear Holford, I do. You have acted against your own
interests, and even now you are spitting against the wind."
"You desire my silence, yet you offer me nothing in return!" I said.
"Oh, you want payment!" he cried. "My dear sir, you have only to name
your own price. We shall not quarrel over it, I can assure you."
"No," I said angrily, "I desire no blood-money, even though it is to
save Ethelwynn Greer. I have all along suspected her of some complicity
in the affair, although on the night you removed her to that house in
Foley Street she accused you of the crime!"
He started quickly and turned to me, his countenance slightly paler.
"Repeat that," he said quietly.
I did so. I told him how I had followed him to Foley Street, of the
screams and words I had heard while standing in the fog outside the
house.
"H'm. So you think I'm guilty of the crime, eh?" he said simply.
"I repeat the girl's allegation against you," I said. "And yet this
same girl now declares that the Professor is not dead!" Then I added:
"He was dead when we were together in the laboratory, was he not? Come,
speak plainly!"
"Certainly he was!"
"And men do not come to life again when once dead, do they?"
"But this is an unusual case, I tell you. He--"
"However unusual, you cannot alter the laws of life and death," I
declared.
"Well, my dear Holford, how I wish I could reveal to you one simple
truth. It would astound you, no doubt, but it would at the same time
alter your opinion of me."
"Oh, of course," I laughed bitterly. "You're not so black as you're
painted--you who have conspired to hold my wife aloof from me--you who
for aught I know have told her some infamous tale which has caused her
to look upon me with doubt and horror! I have recently learnt that she
was acquainted with this man who calls himself Ernest Greer, and that,
before she left my roof, she received word in secret from him."
"Your wife's affairs are surely of no interest to me, Holford," said the
grey-faced old scoundrel. "I am merely putting forward to you a simple
matter of business--in a word, making a proposal for your
consideration."
"A proposal which I will never accept--_never_, you understand!" I
added with emphasis.
"Not if I appeal to you on behalf of Ethelwynn, on behalf of a girl
whose very life is dependent upon your silence?" he asked earnestly.
"The punishment for murder is death," was my hard response.
He regarded me steadily, without speaking. I saw that he realised my
steadfastness of purpose, and that I meant to reveal the truth to all
the world.
"But," he cried at last, "you surely will not act as a fool, Holford! I
told you on the night we first sat together of the great issues that
depended upon your silence, and I repeat it now."
"Why did you entice me into this complicated tangle of crime and
mystery?" I demanded quickly. "Tell me that."
"Because--well--" And he hesitated. "Because I--I was a fool--I admit
it frankly. I ought never to have approached you. Three days later I
regretted it deeply."
"Regretted it because you found, to your surprise, that you had no fool
to deal with!" I cried.
"No; because I had made a mistake in another direction. But--but,
hark?"