"You lie!" the Prince cried indignantly. "There is no proof."
"Listen!" Mariette retorted in a firm, harsh tone, gazing at him
steadily. "Listen while I recall to your memory the events of that
fateful night. In my inquiries I traced your progress step by step, and
every movement is entirely plain to me. You went to England with solely
one object in view, namely, to get rid of Nelly Bridson, the woman who
could convict you of murder."
"I deny that I had any hand whatever in the affair," he protested.
"Why, she went with me to the station and saw me off to Reading! It was
given in evidence that the police inquired of the station officials at
Stratfield Mortimer, and also at Reading, and were entirely satisfied
that there was no suspicion upon me. Therefore, whatever you say is
utterly worthless," he added, turning from her contemptuously.
"We shall see," she replied. "If you have so conveniently forgotten
what your movements were, I will describe them. It is quite true that
Nelly saw you off to Reading. But prior to this, while alone in the
dining-room of Captain Brooker's cottage, you found lying about the
letter I had written her making the appointment. Curiosity prompted you
to read its contents, and you therefore knew that at seven o'clock she
would be in Cross Lane. You bade her farewell at eight minutes past
six, and your train arrived at Reading at twenty minutes past. You
immediately took a fly back towards Stratfield, but dismissed the man at
Threemile Cross, and after watching the conveyance out of sight, took a
cut across the fields for about a mile and a half to Cross Lane, thus
completely doubling. It was growing dark when you reached the railway
bridge, but you saw your victim coming from the opposite direction, and
drew back half-way up the steep ascent, where you knew she must pass
slowly. Suspecting no danger, the light-hearted girl allowed her
machine to run swiftly down the incline, then pedalled hard for the
ascent, when suddenly you raised your weapon, took deliberate aim and
fired. With a cry she dropped sideways on her feet, the machine falling
with her. Then she blindly staggered forward two or three paces, and
sank to earth, dying. For an instant you waited, but even while you
looked the poor girl sighed heavily and passed away. Then, fearing
detection, you turned and fled back across the fields to Reading
station, where I saw you an hour later."
"It's an absolute falsehood!" he cried. "I went direct to London after
leaving the girl."
"You did not, for I found the man who drove you to Threemile Cross, and
who will give evidence against you on your trial."
"You have!" he gasped. "You will hand me over to the police?" he added
hoarsely.
"Certainly," she answered, firmly. "The police of Reading and the
police of Nice will alike be anxious to give you free lodgings in a
chamber scarcely as comfortable as any in the Villa Chevrier. For a
good many months the mystery of Charles Holroyde's death has puzzled
them, but it will remain an enigma no longer."
"Then Brooker will suffer also," he cried.
"No, he will not," replied the inventor of "The Agony of Monte Carlo,"
quickly. "My evidence will prevent that. I saw you commit the murder,
and likewise witnessed how Brooker endeavoured to prevent you."
"Again," cried Mariette, "there is yet another fact. From inquiries I
have made it is plain that some months prior to Nelly's death she, by
word or action, had betrayed her knowledge of your crime committed in
Nice."
"I recollect now," cried Liane, suddenly. "She always loathed Zertho, a
fact which often caused me some surprise, he having made her several
handsome presents after his sudden change of fortune. Once, too, I
chanced to remark in jest that I might possibly become Princess d'Auzac,
whereupon she answered, `No, never. I could prevent that.'"
"This exactly proves my contention," exclaimed Mariette, excitedly
turning to the others. "Nelly had betrayed her knowledge of his secret,
and he was in deadly fear of her. He committed the second crime so that
the first should remain concealed. It was not until months afterwards,
when Richards disclosed his identity, and, having had a run of ill-luck
at the tables, offered to preserve silence for a momentary
consideration, that he knew there was a second witness. Nelly had never
told him that she had a companion on that fateful night, and he felt
assured that the man who had so suddenly sprung upon them could not
again identify him. Only when Richards came forward did he realise the
truth that in taking Nelly Bridson's life he had failed to efface his
first crime, and had placed himself in deadlier peril."
A deep silence fell. The man accused stood motionless, his dark, sallow
face livid, his eyes, with a haunting look of abject terror in them,
fixed upon the carpet. His hands were clenched, his head bent, his body
rigid. This sudden and unexpected exposure held him dumb.
At last Liane spoke in a low musical voice, a little strained perhaps,
but her tone showed that at last the crushing weight of Zertho's
accusation of her father had been lifted from her mind, and she already
felt her freedom to love George Stratfield.
"There is yet one thing unexplained," she said. "I have a confession to
make."
"A confession!" gasped her lover. "What?"
"On that fatal evening when poor Nelly was so brutally killed I had an
appointment to meet you at the spot," she answered. "And I kept it."
"You did? Why, I thought you were prevented."
"I was, but I arrived there late. Unconscious of the fearful tragedy, I
walked there, and in the twilight waited in the gateway leading to the
meadow, the very spot where Mariette and Nelly had been standing an hour
before. While there the high wind blew my hair about and several of the
pins fell out. I picked them up, all save one--the one you discovered."
"It was yours!" he cried dismayed.
"Yes, mine," she replied. "I waited there alone about ten minutes, then
passed beneath the railway bridge and there saw straight before me, a
little way beyond, Nelly lying beside her machine. We had quarrelled
earlier in the day over a trifling matter and she had uttered some
rather insulting words: therefore, believing that she had merely had a
fall and would recover in a few minutes, I left her lying where she was.
I saw no blood, and never dreamt that she was dead. At her throat was
the brooch Charles Holroyde had given her, an ornament upon which she
set great store. Suddenly the temptation to annoy her came over me, and
I bent and snatched it off. At that moment you had already discovered
the crime, and gone for assistance. It was my intention to keep the
brooch, so that she might believe it had been stolen. Judge my horror
when a few hours later I knew the ghastly truth, while in my possession
there remained the missing brooch about which the papers afterwards made
so many comments. Again, the hairpin you discovered being one of mine
was still another fact which caused me the greatest terror, lest the
police should ascertain from whose hair the pin had fallen. In order to
make it appear that I had not been to Cross Lane I that night wrote a
letter to you regretting that I was prevented from meeting you, and
early next morning tore it into fragments and cast it at the roadside,
where it was subsequently discovered by the detectives. Yet the fear
that the brooch might be discovered in my possession was ever upon me,
so one night I took all my remaining pins, together with the brooch, and
buried them in the garden, where, I suppose, they still remain. Ever
since that day until now I have feared lest my theft should be
discovered and my presence at the scene of the tragedy proved, for I saw
how suspicious were the circumstances, especially as we had had a slight
difference earlier that day and someone might have overheard our high
words. For months my life has been overshadowed by a terrible dread,
but now that I know the truth I hesitate no longer to speak."
"And the miniature we discovered by Nelly's side was the one you gave
her to return to my family?" George exclaimed, turning quickly to
Mariette, astounded at the remarkable explanation.
"Yes. She said she knew you, and that you loved Liane. Therefore she
would return it to your father without stating whence it had come."
"But you say that Charles Holroyde was my brother," he exclaimed,
puzzled. "I do not understand."
"Think for a moment, and you will see that all I have spoken is the
truth," she answered. "Before his death he told me the whole of the
circumstances; how your mother, Lady Stratfield, died a few months after
your birth, and how your father, a year afterwards, married another
lady, whom he subsequently divorced. The latter, a lady of means, came
and lived in France, where Charles was educated, but when he knew how
unjustly your father had treated his mother he declined to take the name
of Stratfield, and preferred his mother's maiden name. He--"
"Ah, yes, I remember?" cried George, amazed. "It was my father's
unhappy second marriage that had caused him to become gloomy,
misanthropic, and a hater of womankind. The subject was scarcely ever
mentioned between us, but now I distinctly remember that the lady's name
was Holroyde. I knew that she had a son, but have always been led to
suppose that he died when only a few months old."
"No," Mariette replied. "He was foully murdered for the money he had
won at roulette by that man standing there," and she pointed towards
Zertho, who stood trembling, crushed by her terrible denunciation.
"Fancy poor Charlie Holroyde actually being your brother!" Liane
exclaimed, looking up tenderly into the face of the man she so fondly
loved. "Yet it is not surprising, for, strangely enough, I have many
times thought that your face strongly resembled his. But my father is
cleared of the terrible stigma, and no suspicion can now be cast upon
me, therefore we have nothing to fear."
"True, darling," he answered. "We have nothing to fear, save one
thing."
"What is that?" she inquired eagerly.
He hesitated. His words were overheard by all in the room, and every
eye was upon him. The man accused moved across to the table and stood
leaning against it, swaying unsteadily. His passage was still barred
resolutely.
"You forget the offer of marriage which, under my father's will, I am
compelled to make to Mariette, if I am not to remain a pauper all my
days."
As he spoke there was a quick movement behind him, a flood of golden
sunlight suddenly lit up the room as the jalousies of one of the windows
were dashed open, and as he turned he saw the figure of Zertho
disappearing through the window.
With a cry, the fugitive leaped down upon the flower-bed outside, hat in
hand, and an instant later had gained the road and was flying down
through the fortifications towards La Condamine.
For scarcely a second Max Richards hesitated, then rushed after him to
give him into the hands of the police. Zertho had long been watching
his opportunity, and, being strong and athletic, had reached the window
at a single bound, and had escaped almost before they could realise what
had occurred.
For a few moments all were dismayed, but were quickly reassured by
Mariette, who declared that the police must sooner or later arrest him.