Did I not know enough of this man who had blighted my wife's happiness
to prove him a murderer and to send him to the gallows? Should I not be
even fulfilling my duty in doing so, as well as avenging my own wrongs
at the same time?
Yes. I resolved, after much commune with myself, to do this on the
morrow. First I would compel Vera to disclose his name, then seek him
out, and hand him over to the police.
With these and other maddening thoughts coursing through my brain I had
cast myself upon the trunk of a fallen tree, and must have sat there for
some time as, when I became conscious of things about me, the grey dawn
had appeared through the fast-falling foliage.
Rising, I slowly retraced my steps to the house, pacing the terrace
several times in deep soliloquy. The stars had disappeared, the chill
breeze stirred the boughs softly, and the air was impregnated with the
perfume of decaying leaves. How well I remember leaning upon the stone
balustrade, gazing away down the misty Dene, and reflecting that ere the
morrow's sun had set Vera and I would be parted forever; for after such
a discovery I could trust her no longer, neither could we be anything
more to each other than strangers.
Need I say how heartily I cursed myself for having been prevailed upon
to visit her at Richmond, to listen to her lame excuses, to be softened
by her endearing words? No. For the thousandth time I told myself I
had been fascinated by her beauty in the way the bird is fascinated by
the snake; her toils were about me, and until the present moment I had
always been too weak to tear them asunder, to lift the veil from my own
eyes, and see her in her true character--that of an adventuress.
But that time had now arrived, and though I confess I was beside myself
with grief to find the woman I had loved so fondly, guilty of such
scheming and such treachery, I was, nevertheless, pleased to be in
possession of the truth. Now I was aware of the worst, and should know
how to act.
Presently I turned and passed through the French window into my study.
It was useless retiring, for I could not sleep with such thoughts
gnawing at my heart, so I flung myself into my writing-chair and
thought.
I sat motionless until the warm sun shone through the open window and
the birds outside had broken forth into song, when it occurred to me
that as I had resolved to leave the place in a few hours it would be
well to place my papers in order. This I commenced to do.
There lay scattered upon the table a deed relating to some property, and
several letters of a private nature, upon which I had been engaged
before taking my stroll on the previous night. With the object of
placing them under lock and key I was thoughtfully collecting them when
there fell from amongst the heap of papers a piece of red sealing-wax,
about the size of a sixpence.
Rarely having occasion to use wax myself I took up the fragment, and
found it had the appearance of being the rough corner of a seal that had
chipped off the paper to which it had been affixed.
"Some one must have been here in my absence," I exclaimed aloud,
glancing at the taper which also lay upon the table, at the same time
noticing a small spot of wax that had apparently been dropped upon the
leather. Then I remembered that if any one had been in the study during
the night they had, without doubt, made themselves acquainted with the
contents of the paper, and with the rough copy of my will which I had
carelessly left about.
I glanced at the scrap of wax again and found upon the margin, close to
where it was broken, there was an impression of something.
This might give me a clue to the identity of the member of my household
who required sealing-wax in the middle of the night.
Going to the window, the stronger light revealed a strange character,
something of the shape of the letter B, but having a long excrescence in
front.
In a moment I recognised it as one of the hieroglyphics of the mystic
seal!
Nervousness is not one of my afflictions, yet I looked round that room
involuntarily viewing the curtains with suspicion, as if half afraid I
should witness something supernatural appear from behind them.
It was obvious that some one with the seal in his or her possession had
come to my study in my absence during the dark hours of the night for
the purpose of obtaining an impression in wax, and that the piece which
had served as a clue had accidentally chipped off, alighting amongst the
papers.
That some one in the house held the seal there could not be the
slightest doubt, and my thoughts at once flew to the man whom Vera had
clandestinely met--he whom I knew to be the murderer of Mrs Inglewood.
Who had he marked out as his next victim?
If he entertained affection for Vera, and she reciprocated it, what was
more natural than that they should wish to rid themselves of me? I
shuddered at the thought. My wife could surely never be an accessory to
a murder--yet such things were not unknown, I told myself.
Yes; my surmise must be correct. My wife's lover was only waiting for a
favourable opportunity to strike the fatal blow.
He was not aware, however, that I had espied his presence, had
recognised him; nor that by mere chance I had learned that an attempt
was to be made upon my life.
"I can thwart their vile plot, even now!" I said bitterly, holding the
piece of wax in my hand, and gazing upon it. "I will see Vera and first
give her an opportunity to justify herself. If it is unsatisfactory I
shall then give information to the police, and have the murderer
arrested," and I even smiled at the thought that, after all, I held the
trump card.
Just at that moment the door opened, a head was poked in, and a voice
exclaimed: "Halloa, old fellow, why you look as if you hadn't been to
bed! I heard somebody chattering, and thought there must be visitors,
yet it's rather early. Talking to yourself, it seems."
"What's the time?" I exclaimed rather brusquely, at the same moment
taking out my watch.
"Half-past five," he replied. "Coming out with me for a walk? A
stretch at this hour of the morning will do you good."
"No, thanks; I'm not an athlete," I replied. "Very well. But, by Jove,
what's the matter with you this morning? If you'd had a bad night at
baccarat and were stone broke you couldn't look worse."
"Matter with me? Nothing!" I replied, endeavouring to smile, "except
that I've been very busy writing."
"Take my tip and go to bed, old fellow. A couple of hours there will
freshen you up wonderfully. But, good-bye, if you won't come for a
stroll."
"Good-bye: see you at breakfast," I replied abruptly, as the head
withdrew and the door closed.
The intruder was Demetrius Hertzen, Vera's cousin, a tall,
broad-shouldered fellow about my own age, who had an abundance of
spirits, which made him a most agreeable companion.
In response to my invitation he had arrived from Brussels a fortnight
previously, and had signified his ability to remain my guest for another
month. I had only met him once before, at our marriage, but when he had
been with us a few days, I found he had many tastes in common with
myself,--that he knew London quite as well as Paris or Brussels, and
that although used to rather fast society perhaps, he was nevertheless a
thoroughly good fellow.
Vera and he had been children together, and laughingly admitted they
were sweethearts before they had gained their teens, but that when
Demetrius arrived at the mature age of fifteen he transferred his
affections. Cautiously I had approached my guest with a view to learn
something of his cousin's past, but he seemed remarkably shrewd, and
carefully warded off every indirect question I put to him on the
subject.
Possibly it was at Vera's request that he would not tell me what he
knew, yet upon this matter only was he silent, as he conversed freely of
his own doings and acquaintances, and of his life since leaving the
paternal roof, for though a Russian, he spoke English almost perfectly,
and only in certain words could the accent be detected.
Somehow, though our acquaintance had been but brief, I had become
greatly attached to him, such a mirthful cosmopolitan was he, brimming
over with humour and good-fellowship and as light-hearted as his father
was dark and sullen. He seemed to be untroubled by any thought or care,
the sole object of his existence being to get the greatest amount of
enjoyment out of life, and cause amusement to his companions.
Perplexed and uneasy, I longed for some one in whom to confide, and
after he had gone, as I stood there brooding, I almost regretted I had
not told him of my suspicions, and enlisted his sympathy and aid in
tracking the murderer.
I knew, were I to tell him of my discovery of Vera's faithlessness, he
would readily render any assistance, and even give me advice that I
might follow with advantage. I had no one else near to whom I could
speak, and after considerable deliberation I at last determined to take
him into my confidence, provided I obtained an opportunity of speaking
with him alone after breakfast.
To my pocket-book I transferred the mysterious piece of sealing-wax, and
then sadly and thoughtfully resumed the task of putting my papers in
order.
It took some time, and when finished I set about making preparations for
my journey.
First I drew a cheque in favour of myself for a good round sum, then I
sat down and wrote a long letter to Vera, which I intended she should
read after I had gone.
Full of sorrow and regret, it was a letter in which I told her of my
dejection and my inconsolable grief, yet expressing a bitter hope that
her life might be happier in the future than mine would be, and
explaining the arrangements I proposed whereby she would have a fair
income, and Elveham to reside in as long as she wished.
More than once in the course of writing I was so overcome I could scarce
proceed, and throwing down my pen was tempted to tear the letter up.
But it was a duty; the last communication between myself and she who had
been dearest to me. I felt constrained to write on to the end, and
append my signature.
After carefully reading it through, I placed it in an envelope, and
addressed it to her, "to be opened after my departure."
The hours had crept on unnoticed; the servant had long ago come in for
the purpose of dusting the place, but, seeing me, had retired. Just as
I had written the superscription on the envelope the door again opened,
and I found myself face to face with Vera.