"I--I needn't go into details. It is sufficient to say that she grew
tired of Nicholson, and announced the fact to Egerton, remarking that if
she could free herself from the odious bond she would become his
mistress. This--this had the--desired effect. A few days later
Nicholson was found dead in his room. He had been murdered by
Egerton--"
"Jack Egerton a murderer?"
"Yes. And the safe, which had contained a quantity of valuable uncut
stones, had been ransacked."
"Great heavens! you cannot be speaking the truth! Do you mean to say
that this Nicholson was killed by my friend Egerton?"
"Yes. Stabbed to the heart," he replied faintly, with closed eyes.
"Do you expect me to accept this without proof?" asked Trethowen.
The prostrate man opened his eyes. In them the film of death had
already gathered.
"I--I--can--prove it. He killed Nicholson because--because he loved
Valerie?"
"Was she aware of his intentions?"
"No, no--_mon Dieu_!--no!" he gasped.
"Tell me all the circumstances which led to the tragedy," demanded Hugh,
with fierce impatience.
"It's a long story. The whole facts would astonish you. You remember--
your brother--was murdered? Ah! _Dieu_! My throat! I'm choking! My
head! It's all so strange! Yet now I--I feel quite well again--quite--
well!"
The colour had left his lips, and his eyes, although wide-open, were
dim. The death-rattle was in his throat.
"For God's sake, tell me more before you die?" implored Hugh, bending
over him.
But the convict took no heed.
"Valerie! Valerie!" he moaned in a hoarse, feeble voice.
His jaw suddenly dropped, and the light went out of his face.
Trethowen placed his hand upon his heart, but there was no movement.
The spark of life had fled.
Scrambling along to where the madman lay silent and motionless, he
touched him on the shoulder. A second later, however, he started back,
as he became conscious that to the thwarts was bound a corpse.
Hugh Trethowen was left alone with two bodies to suffer death by slow
torture, the horrors of which he had already witnessed.
Shading his aching eyes with his hand, he struggled back and gazed
around.
No sign of assistance--only a wide stretch of horizon unrelieved by a
single hope-inspiring speck.
The revelations made by the dead man had killed all desire for life
within him. With a heart bursting with grief at finding the woman he
loved so well guilty of such vile dishonour, he cast himself into the
bottom of the boat and lay awaiting his end, praying that his agony
might not be protracted.