THE CONFESSION OF A JEALOUS WOMAN
George returned to town with the confession of Mrs. Jersey in his
pocket. On arriving at the Liverpool Street Station he wrote a note to
Kowlaski telling him of Lola's plight, and advising him to engage
counsel for her defense. He added that he would come around the next
day to see Kowlaski and discuss what could be done toward extricating
Lola from the mess she had involved herself in. Having thus done what
he could, Brendon took the underground railway to Kensington, and
alighted at the High Street Station. In another half-hour he was in
his rooms.
After making a good meal, for he felt the need of food to sustain him,
he ordered coffee, and sat down to read the manuscript of Mrs. Jersey.
The coffee was brought, George lighted his pipe, and having poked the
fire into a blaze, made himself comfortable.
The confession of the wretched woman who had come to so tragic an end,
was written on several sheets of foolscap loosely pinned together. Her
caligraphy was vile, and George had great difficulty in making out
some of the words. Also the English was not faultless, but good
grammar and fine writing were scarcely to be expected from a woman in
the position of Eliza Stokes.
But she wrote in a most cold-blooded way, and seemingly exulting in
her wickedness. All through her confession ran a venomous strain of
deadly hatred toward George's mother, and indeed against any woman who
paid attention to Vane. Jenny Howard was not spared, and the woman
Velez, "who kept an oil-shop," sneered Mrs. Jersey, was mentioned.
When Brendon discovered that Mrs. Jersey had Italian blood in her
veins he saw perfectly well whence she got her savage nature and
undisciplined affections. She was like a wild beast let loose among
more civilized animals, and the wonder was that with such a nature she
had not committed more crimes than those she confessed to. The woman
was a dangerous creature, and Brendon when he laid down the manuscript
thought it just as well that she had been removed even by the violent
means which Providence permitted.
"My parents were of humble station," began Mrs. Jersey, abruptly. "I
believe my mother was a lady's maid. She married my supposed father,
who was a butler. I say 'my supposed father' as I have reason to
believe that I was the daughter of a certain Italian count who had
loved and betrayed my mother. In her moments of rage my mother would
taunt my supposed father with this, but when calm she always denied
that there was any truth. When I grew old enough to understand she
rebuked me for asking about the matter. 'You are my daughter,' she
said abruptly, 'and the daughter of Samuel Stokes, who is the biggest
fool and the greatest craven I know.'
"It will be seen that there was no love lost between my parents. My
father Stokes--as I may call him, though I believe the count was my
real sire--was always very kind to me, and shielded me from my
mother's rage. She treated me very cruelly, and when fifteen I was
glad to go out as a scullery-maid so as to escape her persecution.
Shortly after I took up life on my own account she died in a fit of
violent rage, during which she broke a blood-vessel. I think Stokes
was glad when she died. She made his life a misery when she lived, and
tormented every one around her. If I have faults, it is not to be
expected that I could inherit a decent nature from such a mother. I
never loved her, and when she died I did not shed a single tear. I
remember singing at my work on the day I received the news. One of my
fellow-servants asked me why I was so gay? I replied that I had heard
of my mother's death. After that they hated me, and I had to leave my
situation. But had any one of them possessed such a mother, any one of
them would have been as gay and relieved as I was. So much for my
mother.
"As for my presumed father Stokes, I saw very little of him. He
retired from business and bought a public-house. Then he married
again, and was not inclined to see much of me. I did not mind, as I
never loved him in spite of his kindness. I dare say I should have
returned his affection, but my mother had beaten all love out of me.
"It is needless to give my early life in detail. I rose from
scullery-maid to housemaid. Then I became parlor-maid in a suburban
villa, where the wages were poor and the food was bad. I took charge
of children when not doing housework, and managed to get on. But I was
ambitious. I wished to get among the servants of the aristocracy. A
friend of mine who was maid to the Duchess of--taught me her duties,
and I procured a situation. I pleased my mistress, and she promised to
do much for me. However, she died, and I was thrown on the world. I
saw an advertisement for a lady's maid, and got the situation. It was
in this way that I became the servant of that woman whom I hated so
deeply.
"She was called Rosina Lockwood, and was no better born than myself.
Her father was a low man who taught singing, and she appeared herself
on the stage. I never thought she was beautiful, myself. She had good
hair, and her complexion was passable, but her figure was bad, and she
had no brains. An inane, silly, foolish woman. How Percy Vane could
have eloped with her beats me. But men are such fools. He would not
look at me, yet I was ten times as lovely as this singing-woman, and
quite as well born. Oh, how I hated her!
"At first I rather liked Miss Lockwood. She was kind to me in her
silly way, and the gentlemen who were in love with her gave me plenty
of money to deliver notes and other things. There was one gentleman
who was the best of them all--and the biggest fool over her blue eyes
and fair hair. His name was Ireland, and he had plenty of money. He
came to learn singing from old Lockwood simply to be near her, and
proposed three times, to my knowledge. But she would have nothing to
do with him, which was foolish, as he had money, and she could have
twisted him round her finger. Why he loved her so and what he saw in
her I can't say. She had nothing attractive about her, so far as I
could see.
"I was a handsome girl in those days, though I say it myself. But if a
woman is good-looking, why shouldn't she say so? I had a perfect
figure, and a complexion like cream and roses. My hair was as black as
night, and my eyes were sparkling and large. I taught myself to read
and write, and I learned French. Also I learned to play the piano, and
to conduct myself like a lady, as I always was. I often dreamed that I
would marry a gentleman, and I could have done so but that my foolish
heart was captured by the only man who would have nothing to do with
it, or with me.
"I never loved till I set eyes on him. There was a footman who wanted
to marry me; to join our savings and set up in a public-house. But I
told him I was born for better things. Then a coachman asked me to be
his wife, but I hated a man who had to do with horses. Oh, I had
plenty of offers, as a handsome girl should. But I knew my own value,
and looked about for the gentleman who would give me my rightful
position as a lady. From my Italian father I inherited aristocratic
tastes, and I was not going to remain a low, vulgar common servant all
my life, not me.
"Then he came to the house. Oh, my adored one, my idol, my angel, how
magnificent and beautiful thou wast. Percy was his dear name, and his
blood was very blue. Lord Derrington was his father, a most
aristocratic nobleman, who was an old brute, from my experience of
him. But he was of high rank I don't deny, and Percy had the blood of
heroes in his veins. He came to take lessons in singing. But after a
time I saw that he was in love with my mistress. Afterward I found out
that he had seen her at a concert and had fallen in love with her. I
don't believe it. Who could have loved that bad figure and that silly
brain? Now a woman like myself--but he never cared for me, although I
adored him from the first time I set eyes on his manly form. It was
her arts that captured him, else he would have turned from her to me.
But he never did.
"How handsome and fascinating was my hero Percy Vane. Fair hair and
blue eyes, and the figure of a Life-Guardsman--just the kind of man I
liked. He was kind to me--for her sake, I suppose--and gave me money
and presents. She said she loved him, and used to make me sick with
talking of him. I let her think I was her dear friend, as if she had
known my true feelings she would have sent me away, and then I would
never have seen my hero again. I made the best of my position, for at
least I saw him as often as she did, and that was something. They both
looked on me as their friend. Had they only known how I hated her, and
loved him!
"Lord Derrington was angry with Percy for loving my mistress, and I
don't wonder at it, a low singing-woman. Percy had some money of his
own, inherited from his mother, and he proposed an elopement. He said
that Lord Derrington could not leave the estates away from him, and
that some day he would come in for the title. She never lived to be
Lady Derrington. I was glad of that. I should have killed her had she
reached that pitch of splendor. Her position should have been mine.
But it never was.
"Well, they eloped. After singing at a concert in St. James's Hall, he
met her outside, and took her to Liverpool Street Station. I was
waiting there with the luggage. We went down to a place called
Wargrove, in Essex, and the very next day they were married in the
church of that parish. I was furious, but what could I do? Had I told
Lord Derrington, he might have stopped the marriage, but Percy would
never have forgiven me, and I did not wish to lose sight of him. As
Mrs. Vane's maid, I had chances of seeing him daily, and of basking in
the light of his eyes. It was weak of me, but I loved him so dearly
that I would have done anything simply to be in his presence. But I
wish now that I had prevented the marriage. Since I could not get him,
I didn't see why she should bear off the prize. But I was a girl then,
and sentimental and foolish. And she was a cat, as she always was.
"Afterward we went to Paris, and from that place Percy wrote to tell
his grandfather that he was married. I know he did not mention the
place, for the letter was given to me to post, and I opened it. I
never gave it a thought at the moment, but afterward Percy's mistake
in not telling where the marriage had taken place did me a lot of
good. I should not now be writing in this house, but for that lucky
omission. Lord Derrington would have nothing to do with his son, and
there was trouble with Mr. Lockwood.
"But I don't think they minded much. Percy was wrapped up in the
creature, and she loved him in her silly simpering way. I pretended to
be quite happy, but I inwardly was raging all the time. For his sake I
put up with the unpleasant position, and I never received my reward,
never, never, never. Oh, how some women's hearts are broken by the
cruelty and neglect of men.
"I lived with the two of them during their married life. A son was
born, and she died. I was glad when she died, and I was sorry she left
the boy. Percy was wrapped up in the child, and gave him to me to
nurse. Mrs. Vane was buried in Père la Chaise, and then Percy, with
myself and the baby, went to Monte Carlo. He gambled there in order to
forget his grief--though I don't see what he had to moan over, seeing
what a silly fool his late wife was. Percy lost money, and wrote to
his father, who declined to help him. Then he went to Italy and
wandered about. Now that he was free I hoped to marry him. When not
nursing that horrid child--he was called George after his maternal
grandfather, and was a scrubby little beast. Some said he was a fine
child. I could not see it, myself. He was her child, and that was
enough to make me hate him as I did. But as I say, when not nursing
him, I devoted myself to study so as to be worthy of the time when
Percy would marry me. I knew that the future Lady Derrington would
hold a high rank, and I qualified myself to fill the position
gracefully. I did work. I learned arithmetic, and could write
beautifully. I talked Italian and French like a native. I got an old
artist to teach me to paint in water-colors, and I bought a book which
taught the manners of good society. Also I tried to dress well, and do
my hair becomingly. Percy saw the change in me, and congratulated me
on the improvement which had taken place in me since leaving England.
Had he only known that it was for his sake I had improved!
"As to that child, I should have liked to drown it, or to have given
it to gypsies. As Lady Derrington, I did not wish to be troubled with
her brat. Besides, Percy loved the boy so, that he used to make me
envious the way he nursed him. But had I got rid of the child--and I
thought of a thousand safe ways I could have done so--I should only
have been sent away, and then some woman would have got hold of him. I
thought it best to bear with my aching pain and put up with the child
so that I might be near to watch over Percy.
"The end of it came in Milan. We were stopping at the Hôtel de Ville,
and there was a waiter who fell in love with me. He was an English
boy, called George Rates--a horrid, scrubby, red-haired, nasty,
pale-faced creature, who worried me to death. Besides, he was younger
than I was, and I wished for a husband to protect me. I should have
had to look after George Rates, whereas Percy, in the days to come,
would look after me. Besides, I felt that it was an impertinence for a
low waiter to expect me to marry him--me, who had done so much to
improve myself, and who looked forward to taking proud rank among the
British aristocracy.
"At first I laughed at him, but he became such a nuisance that I told
him plainly that I would have nothing to do with him. He then accused
me of being in love with my master. I acknowledged it proudly. Why
should I not? A woman should glory in her love. I did! I told George
Rates that I worshiped the very ground Percy walked on; I gave my
passionate feelings full vent, and bore him to the ground under the
storm of my indignation. He told the other servants, and they insulted
me, especially the English ones, as there were two or three in the
hotel. I was persecuted, but I bore all for his dear sake. Then it
came to his ears. Percy heard what I had said to George Rates. He
called me in: he accused me of making him ridiculous, of being out of
my mind, of a thousand and one cruel things. I lost my head. I told
him how I loved him. I knelt at his feet. I implored that he would
reward my love--my long, long sufferings. He laughed in my tearful
face. At that moment I hated him, but not for long. My life was bound
up in his. When he dismissed me, I thought that my heart was broken.
"I was dismissed. He procured a new nurse from England--a Scotch
hussy, as ugly as she was silly. I saw her often in Milan after my
dismissal. Oh, that time--oh, those weary days! I wept. I prayed. I
moaned. I was a wreck. With what money I had I went to a convent near
Milan, and stopped there for a month. But I could not remain away from
him. I came out. He was gone. I went to inquire at the hotel. He had
gone to Rome. Afterward a message came that all letters were to be
sent to San Remo. I determined to go to San Remo, and to be near him.
I would have died else. George Rates, who was still in love with me,
proved a willing tool. I could not get to San Remo without money. He
offered to advance me the railway fare, and he got me a situation in
the Hôtel d'Angleterre as housemaid. He also was going there for the
season as a waiter. I said that if he took me to San Remo I would
marry him. He did so, and I--but that comes later. Sufficient it is to
say that George believed in my promise, and that I found myself again
in the presence--the heavenly presence--of my adored Percy.
"But I had only come to submit myself to fresh anguish. He saw me, but
took no notice of me. I was afraid to follow him too closely lest he
should ask the police to interfere. George Rates was jealous, too, and
I had to consider him, as, failing Percy rewarding my love I could
fall back on George. He was always useful to supply the money for me
to get back to England, where I was certain of a situation. I handled
the situation in a masterly manner, and contrived to see Percy without
his seeing me, and without exciting too openly the jealousy of George
Rates.
"But it was the horrid girl that caused me pain. She was one of the
daughters of General Howard, whom Percy had met at Como. The two girls
both laid themselves out to catch my darling. But their arts did not
succeed at Como. Jenny was the one who tried hardest to get him, but
Violet took her chance also. When they came to San Remo they stopped
at the Hôtel d'Angleterre. I looked after their room, and, knowing
what they were, I made myself their friend. They knew me as the former
nurse of Percy's horrid, little son, and wondered how I came to be a
housemaid. I told some story which satisfied them. I forget what it
was. They believed in me thoroughly, and they found out that I loved
Percy. Then they were amused, and I hated them for it. They told Percy
that I was watching him, and he came to the hotel no more. But I still
pretended to be their friend, for my own ends. There was a masked ball
coming off, and the Miss Howards wished to go unbeknown to their
father. I entered into the spirit of the joke. I procured them two
blue dominoes and each a sprig of yellow holly, so that they might
know one another. They went to the ball thus disguised.
"I went also--in the same dress. I had got a third blue domino and I
also wore a sprig of holly. In my pocket I took a stiletto. Why did I
do that? Because I was determined to kill any one who tried to make
love to my Percy. I knew that Jenny Howard, the little cat, would try
and get him to love her, and I would have killed her with pleasure had
she become Percy's bride. As I was masked, I had no fear of being
discovered should I stab any one, and, moreover, were there trouble,
the Miss Howards, being dressed as I was, even to the sprig of yellow
holly, might be accused of any crime that might happen. Moreover, even
if I killed Jenny I knew that the two sisters quarreled, and that on
the evidence of the holly and the domino Violet might be charged with
the crime. Oh, I made myself quite safe! I am a clever woman.
"About the stiletto. I received that from a low shopkeeper called
Velez, who was in love with Percy. She and her husband kept an oil-shop,
and her husband was very jealous of her. She was madly in love
with Percy, as I found out when buying something at her shop, and I
got to know her intimately, so that I could make use of her if the
occasion arose. I did make use of her, by getting the stiletto, and I
took it to the ball.
"I heard Percy propose to marry Jenny, and I was minded then to kill
her. I drew the stiletto from my breast, and would have rushed
forward, hoping to escape in the confusion when I killed her. But my
heart failed me; even when she was left alone my heart failed me.
Jenny took off her mask, and I left her sitting waiting for Percy's
return. Then I followed Percy and saw Violet join him. I knew it was
Violet, owing to the unmasking of Jenny, and, moreover, I had seen
Violet listening, as I was. She loved him also--the cat! However, I
saw that she wanted to get Percy out of the place by making him think
she was Jenny. She did. I followed. He took her home to the gates of
the hotel and left her there. When he was coming back to the ball I
stopped him at the bottom of the parade. There was no one in sight, it
was late, and a clear moon was shining.
"Percy thought I was Violet, whom he mistook for her sister. He
addressed me in such endearing tones as Jenny, and remonstrated so
gently about what he called the rashness of following him from the
hotel, that I lost my temper. I snatched off the mask and poured
out my wrath. Percy burst out laughing when he recognized me. He
said--never mind what he said--but it was an insult, and my Italian
blood boiled in my veins. I drew the stiletto and rushed on him. At
that moment my hand was caught from behind, and I fell. It was that
man Ireland, who was then at San Remo, and a great friend of Percy's.
He had wrenched the stiletto out of my hand. For a moment no one said
anything, and I arose to my feet. Ireland addressed me as Miss
Howard--Miss Violet Howard. Percy laughed again and corrected his
mistake, saying that I was a love-sick nursemaid whom he had
discharged. Then I lost my temper.
"Stop! I must say exactly how it happened. Percy was leaning against
the parapet of the parade in a careless attitude. He did not even move
when I rushed on him with the stiletto, and had Ireland not caught my
arm, I should have killed him. Ireland said that he had followed
me--thinking I was Violet Howard--to ask me to return to the hotel. He
talked some rubbish about a gentle-born English girl being out at
night; but when he found that I was only a servant there was no more
of that talk. Poor Eliza Stokes could have been out till dawn for all
these gentlemen cared. They laughed at me, Percy leaning against the
parapet, Ireland beside me, holding the stiletto carelessly in his
hand. As I said, I lost my temper, and I told Percy what I thought of
that fool Rosina Lockwood. He lost his temper also, but that only made
me more angry. At last he dashed forward, and I believe he would have
struck me but that Mr. Ireland intervened. I don't know exactly how it
happened, but, in moving, Mr. Ireland evidently forgot how he held the
stiletto, and put out his hand with the weapon pointing outward. In
rushing on me, Percy came against it, and it ran right into his heart.
With a choking cry he fell dead. I was terrified, and began to wring
my hands. Ireland knelt down and found that Percy was dead. He seized
my wrist and told me to hold my tongue lest I should be accused of the
death. I said it was his fault. He replied it was an accident. But I
had got the stiletto, I had tried to kill Percy, and Ireland declared
that if I said anything that he would denounce me as the criminal. I
was terrified as I saw the danger in which I was placed. Ireland
suggested that we should throw the body over the parapet on to the
beach, and that it would be thought robbers had killed Percy. I
agreed, and we threw the body of my darling over. Oh, how my heart
ached when I heard it fall on the cruel, cruel stones.
"With Ireland I arranged to hold my tongue, and on his part he
promised he would say nothing. The next day the news of the discovery
of the body came. I was nearly out of my mind. Señora Velez, from whom
I had borrowed the stiletto, knowing of my love for Percy, and being
in love with him herself, accused me of the crime. I denied it, and
said that if she did not hold her tongue I would tell her husband how
she had loved Percy. She was afraid of her husband, who was a jealous
brute, so she remained quiet. I gave her back the stiletto, which I
had obtained from Ireland. We were both safe, but I was so ill that I
left the hotel and returned to England. George Rates, who never
suspected my share in the death, followed----"
It was at this point that George ceased reading. He now knew the
worst. His father had died by accident, and Ireland had been the
unwitting cause of his death. Brendon wondered how the old man could
have carried the knowledge all these years without speaking. He
determined to have an interview with him. But at last he knew the
truth about the death in San Remo. It inculpated no one, and he could
not see how--according to Bawdsey--it could be connected with the
murder of Mrs. Jersey.