BACK FROM THE GRAVE.
For the moment I felt but little surprise, as I thought Olivia was but
making the same mistake she had made formerly. Yet when I noted that
she knew the true date of her lover's return, and remarked the strange
expression on the face of Rose, I became instinctively convinced that
she spoke the truth. It was Francis Briarfield who stood before me,
and the dead man was Felix. How the change of personality had taken
place I was unable to guess, but nevertheless felt that it was true.
Rose Gernon, with a look of disappointed rage, was the first to speak.
She stamped her foot, and laughed scornfully.
"This is ridiculous," she said contemptuously; "it was Francis who
died. He----"
"Francis did not die, as you well know," interrupted the young man.
"Felix fell into his own trap, and for safety I assumed his name. I
believe you were aware of this all along."
"How can that be? And if I really did know you were Francis, why did
you not say so?"
"Because I did not wish to betray myself. For aught I know you slew my
brother, and were quite capable of accusing me of his murder."
Rose evaded this question, and, tossing her head with a sneer, moved
toward the door. Before she could reach it I blocked her passage.
"Not yet, Miss Gernon," said I meaningly. "Though we have discovered
Felix to be Francis, we do not know how the former met with his
death."
"I cannot tell you."
"I think you can," said Olivia quickly, "seeing Felix by your own
confession made all arrangements with you."
"And yet Felix is dead," scoffed Rose.
"He fell into his own trap."
"I don't know how he died," she said resolutely. "As regards that, I
am as ignorant as you are, though I believe Francis killed him."
"Ah! You then acknowledge me to be Francis?"
"I acknowledge nothing. Let me pass, Mr. Denham. I have to attend to
my business."
"Not till you tell me where your so-called father, Strent, is to be
found."
"I don't know," she said sullenly.
"Yes, you do," persisted Olivia, "and you shall not leave this room
till you tell all."
"If I do not go to the theater, I shall be ruined."
"That does not matter to us," said Francis mercilessly.
The woman looked at our three faces, and, seeing therein no hope of
mercy, compromised the matter.
"Let me have a night to think over it," she entreated anxiously.
"No," said Francis and Olivia in one breath, "you must tell all now."
"There is no time," she urged; "I am late as it is: I must go."
"Let me speak, Briarfield," I interposed, seeing he was about to
refuse again. "We do not want to make a public scandal of this--as
yet."
Francis consulted Olivia with a look and turned to me.
"You know more about this case than anyone else," he said quietly.
"Miss Bellin and myself are quite prepared to leave the matter in your
hands."
"Very good. Then Miss Gernon can go to her duties. I undertake that
she shall be forthcoming tomorrow. Oh, yes, Miss Gernon," I added
ironically, "I have made all my plans. Knowing you were mixed up in
this case, I engaged a detective to look after you."
"A detective," she said, with a terrified look.
"Yes! One of the smartest detectives of Scotland Yard. Permit me to
escort you to the stage door of the theater and introduce you to this
gentleman. Perform your part tonight, and go home. To-morrow come to
these rooms at noon and tell us all you know. I am not afraid of your
escaping, as my detective will watch you till we see you again."
"Suppose I refuse!" said Rose viciously.
"In that case I'll have you arrested at once as an accessory to the
murder of Felix Briarfield."
"You are too strong for me," she said savagely. "I accept your
conditions. To-morrow I'll come here at twelve o'clock. Can I go now?"
"Certainly! Provided you accept me as your escort."
"As you please," she replied disdainfully. "As for you, Miss Bellin,"
she added, turning toward Olivia, "I wish you joy of your bargain.
That man is Francis Briarfield, sure enough. I knew it all along, and
played on his fears for my own ends. He is a coward, and Felix was
worth a dozen of him. For you, Mr. Briarfield, I have nothing but
contempt."
With this parting shaft she sailed out of the door, closely followed
by me. The detective was waiting on the other side of the street, and
followed us closely. Rose glanced uneasily from side to side, but not
one word would she speak. Nor did I wish her to talk, having quite
enough on my mind for the present. When we arrived at the stage door
of the Frivolity Theater, she halted on the step. In the light shed
from the lamp above I could see her scornful face.
"What I have promised I shall do, Mr. Denham," she said spitefully;
"but to-morrow I can tell you nothing. With all your cleverness as a
spy, you have discovered nothing but a mare's nest."
When she entered the theater, I turned round to the detective, whom I
found at my elbow.
"You know what you have to do?" I said imperatively.
"Yes, sir. I saw her face in the light. You can depend upon me; I
shan't lose sight of her."
"She is to come to Mr. Briarfield's rooms to-morrow at noon."
"That's all right, sir. I'll see she is there."
"Good. Be very careful. She is a clever woman, and would baffle the
devil himself."
"She won't baffle me," said the detective confidently, and so departed
on his mission.
Having thus provided for the safe keeping of Rose Gernon, I returned
to Briarfield's rooms, and found him alone. Miss Bellin had taken her
departure during my absence.
"Where is she?" I asked, glancing round.
"Olivia has gone home," explained Francis. "If she is back before
nine, her mother will never hear of this escapade, so I put her in a
cab and sent her off."
"All the better," said I, taking a seat. "Now that we are alone I wish
to hear the story of your transformation from Francis to Felix."
"I told you I was Francis all along," he said reproachfully.
"Yes; in such a way that I thought you were Felix," I answered
ironically. "You might have trusted me, Briarfield. It would have been
better for us all."
"I have no doubt it would," answered Francis gloomily, "but I was
afraid lest you should think I had killed Felix."
"I knew you were incapable of such a thing."
"Thank you," he said gratefully. "Had I known you were so true a
friend, I should have made you my confidant. As it was, when I
remembered my wild threats of killing Felix, I dreaded lest, finding
him dead, you might accuse me of his murder."
"Who killed him?"
"I don't know. When I saw him, he was dead."
"And Strent and Rose?"
"They had left the house."
"What time was this?"
"About six in the morning."
"And I was not up till ten o'clock. You had plenty of time to fly. But
what put it into your head to place the dead body of Felix in your
bed?"
"It's a long story, and I hardly know if you will understand my
motives."
"Yes, I do. You were afraid of being accused of the crime. It was
foolish of you to mistrust me. I would have aided rather than blamed
you."
"I see that now. It was kind of you to try and avenge my death.
Unfortunately, all your industry was dangerous to me, and I had to
baffle it."
"You certainly did so very adroitly. But tell me the story. I am
anxious to know what took place."
Francis was quite unnerved by the late interview, and, before
continuing, poured himself out a glass of brandy. Then, pushing the
bottle toward me, he began his strange narrative without further
preamble.
"When I went to bed that night," he said slowly, "I could not sleep
for ever so long. I kept wondering if your theory could possibly be
true about the treachery of Felix. If it were, I considered how I
should punish my brother. While thus thinking, I fell asleep, and
didn't wake up till close on six o'clock in the morning. All my
troubles came on me with full force, and you know how much worse
things look at that hour than in broad daylight. There was no chance
of further sleep, so I put on my clothes and went downstairs. The
first thing I saw was my brother Felix lying dead on the floor."
"Had you any idea who killed him?"
"Not the slightest. I thought it was either Strent or the girl, so I
went in search of them. They had fled, for I found my horse gone, so
this flight confirmed me in my suspicion. At first I determined to
wake you up and explain all, but, remembering my foolish talk of the
previous night, I thought you might think me guilty of my brother's
death."
"That was a foolish idea."
"Well, put yourself in my place, and you would have thought as I."
"Not a bit of it. I should have had more moral courage."
"I hadn't at that moment. I thought you would denounce me and I would
be hanged, so took steps to secure my own safety. I went outside and
found my brother's horse at the side of the house. Strent and his
daughter had taken mine, and overlooked my brother's in the hurry of
their guilty flight. I saw a means of escape and took it."
"But what about the substitution of yourself for Felix?"
"I did that to throw off the scent. I guessed that your idea was
right, and that Felix was masquerading as I, so thought I might go
back with safety as myself. Felix was far cleverer than I, and it was
certain he had provided some reasons for the absence of his real self
while he passed himself off as me. The whole plot unrolled itself in a
moment before me, and I saw in carrying it through lay my only chance
of safety."
"It would have been far easier to have trusted to my friendship."
"I see that now," said Francis penitently, "but I did not then. I
wanted to leave the house without your waking, so took the body of
Felix softly upstairs, undressed it, and laid it in my bed. Then I
folded up my clothes on the chair beside the bed and dressed myself in
his suit."
"And the pearl ring?"
"I had to part with that so as to carry out the deception, therefore I
slipped it on the finger of the dead man. Then I locked the door of my
bedroom and came downstairs again. In a few minutes I was on my way to
Marshminster."
"How did you get the horse back to Fundy's stables, and what made you
think of going to Bellin Hall?"
"As to the first, I found Fundy's name on the saddle, so knew Felix
had hired the horse. I took it back to the stables, and, owing to my
resemblance to Felix, easily managed to deceive the hostler. Then as
Felix in his letter had told me he was staying at Bellin Hall I went
there."
"Was there any suspicion?"
"None at all! I told a footman I had been out for a morning ride, and
asked him to bring me a brandy and soda to my room; I needed the drink
after all I had gone through, but my principal reason for asking him
was to find out my room."
"How so?"
"Well, I made him carry the tray upstairs in front of me. Of course he
took it to the room of Felix, and thus I gained my point without
exciting suspicion. All the baggage, clothes, etc., of Felix were in
the room. I knew all about them, as I had seen them plenty of times.
Then I dressed in a morning suit and went downstairs to find Olivia."
"Did she guess the truth?"
"Not at first, but she saw there was something wrong, as she kept
referring to events of the previous week about which I knew nothing.
Luckily Mrs. Bellin did not come down to breakfast, so I was able to
tell her all when the servants left the room."
"Had she recognized that Felix was masquerading as you?"
"She had, more or less, but was not quite certain. When I told her all
that had occurred, she believed me at once. In some instinctive way
she knew that I was really her lover. Then we set to work to concert
measures for my safety. Olivia told me Felix was supposed to be in
Paris at the Hôtel des Étrangers and showed me his letters, so it was
decided as wisest to keep up that fiction. She told me all that had
taken place during my absence, and by the time you came I was
thoroughly fitted into the skin of Felix."
"Then I came and insisted you were Felix."
"Yes! You see, I told the truth, and so did Olivia, when I said I was
Francis. But, of course, as I had changed clothes with the dead man,
we saw where you were making your mistake. I never thought you'd take
my death so much to heart."
"Seeing that, Briarfield, you ought to have told me all."
"Olivia suggested as much, but I was afraid. When you asked me to ride
out and see the inn, I asked for a night's grace in order to get rid
of the body. I rode out during the night and threw it into a pool near
the inn."
"I know that pool," said I grimly, "and traced your trail thereto."
"I am afraid I did it badly," said Francis, with a shudder; "it was a
horrible task, yet necessary, as I thought when you saw nobody the
next day you would think it was a dream or a hallucination."
"I did very nearly," I answered gravely. "And what about Paris?"
"Oh, that was very easy. When you said you were going there to look up
Felix, I followed you to London by the same train and crossed over to
Paris at once. At the Hôtel des Étrangers I found Felix had bribed the
manager to send on those letters to Olivia. He, of course, thought I
was Felix and talked quite openly before me. Felix had invented a very
ingenious plot to enlist the manager in his service. What it was I
need not tell you, but I told the manager what I wanted and he did it
well. Of course I paid him lavishly."
"You mean he deceived me by saying you had been six weeks in Paris."
"Yes, and about my going to Italy. Of course when you saw me you
thought I was really Felix, and that you were out of your mind."
"How could I do otherwise when your statements were backed up by the
manager? I did not know what to make of it."
"Well, that's all I have to tell," said Francis, "and a lot of trouble
it has been. I wish I had told you all at first."
"What about Rose Gernon?"
"Oh, she found me out and made believe I was Felix. She wanted to
marry me, as you saw. I had great trouble with her."
"We'll settle her to-morrow," said I grimly. "But now, Francis, who do
you think killed your brother?"
"I can't say! I don't even know how he died."
"He died," said I, "from a wound in the hand inflicted by a poisoned
arrowhead which was taken from Bellin Hall."
"And who wounded him?" demanded Francis, turning pale.
"We'll find that out to-morrow," I answered, "from Rose Strent, alias
Rose Gernon."