"I have known you for half your life, my boy," he said, after a pause,
"and I'll tell you this. There is no man I know, whom I would sooner
Vera married, than yourself. You have your faults, but--but you will be
good to her, always good to her. Ah! I know you will, and that is as
much as any woman should expect. And Gwen is glad, too, that you are
going to marry Vera. But now, Dick, there is this thing I must tell
you. I--I should not rest after death, if I died without your knowing."
Again he paused, and, in silent expectation, I waited for the old
sportsman to speak.
"You have lately come to know," he said at last, "that there is to do
with me, and with my family, a mystery of some kind. Part of my secret,
kept so well for all these years, I believe you have recently
discovered. The rest you don't know. Well--I'll tell it--to--you--
now."
With an effort, he shifted his body into a more comfortable position.
Then, after coughing violently, he went on--
"Dick, prepare yourself for a shock," he said, staring straight at me
with his fevered eyes. "I have--I have been a forger, and--and worse--a
murderer!"
I started. What he said seemed impossible. He must suddenly be raving
again. I refused to believe either statement, and I frankly told him
so.
"I am not surprised at your refusing to believe me," he said, calmly.
"I don't look like a criminal, perhaps--least of all like a forger, or a
murderer. Yet I am both. It all occurred years ago. Ah! it's a
nightmare--a horrible dream, which has lived with me all my life since."
He paused, then continued.
"It happened in the house I had then just bought--my house in Belgrave
Street. The governor had left me money, but I was ambitious--
avaricious, if you like. I wanted more money--much more. And I wanted
it at once. I could not brook delay. I had travelled a good deal, even
then, and I was still a bachelor. During my wanderings, I had become
acquainted with all sorts and conditions of people. In Mexico I had met
Henry Whichelo, and on our way home to England on the same ship, we
became very intimate. Another man on board, with whom I had also grown
intimate, was Dan Paulton--or Dago, as his friends called him. A man of
energy and dash, and of big ideas, he somehow fascinated and appealed to
me. Well--he--he discovered my ambition to grow rich quickly and
without trouble. He was a plausible and most convincing talker--he is
that still, though less than he was--and by degrees he broke it to me
that he was interested in, and in some way associated with, a group of
`continental financiers,' as he called them. Later, I discovered, when
too late, that really they were bank-note forgers! He talked to me in
such a way that gradually, against my will, and quite against my better
nature, I became interested in the operations of these men. And, as he
had thus ensnared me by his insidious talk, so, in the same way, he had
ensnared our companion, Whichelo."
And he paused, because of his difficulty in breathing.
"It was about this time that I married. Within a year after my
marriage, I found that blackguard Paulton was doing his best to steal
Gwen from me," he went on, in a half-whisper. "He was talking her right
round, I found, as he seemed able to talk anybody round. By this time,
I had discovered him to be a far greater scoundrel than I had ever
before suspected. Then came a revulsion in my feelings. I had come
suddenly to hate him. My mind became set upon revenge. Already I had
become actively interested in Paulton's continental schemes for making
money, the forgery of French bank-notes, and by manufacturing coin. My
fortune was already more than doubled. Alas! It was too late to draw
back. Some of the base coin had actually been moulded and finished in
my house in Belgrave Street. The rest was made abroad. The coins,
perfectly made by an ingenious process, were nearly all French louis and
ten-franc pieces, these being the coins most easy to circulate at the
time. Paulton's plan for issuing the coin we made, was ingenious and
most successful. It seemed impossible--of--of--discovery. And--"
Once again he was compelled to pause, drawing a long and difficult
breath. Then he continued--
"It was the year before I met you that the tragedy occurred. Paulton,
Whichelo, Henderson, and also a half-brother of Paulton's named Sutton,
who was nearly always with him, and myself, were gathered in the room on
the second floor, in my house in Belgrave Street, the room that was
found recently with a hole cut in the floor. It was late at night, and
the place was dimly lit. We worked in silence. The work we were
engaged upon I need not trouble to explain to you--I expect you can
guess it. My mind was in a whirl. I was thinking all the time of my
wife, wondering how far her intrigue with Paulton had already gone.
Then and there I would have assaulted Paulton, turned him out of the
house, but I had so far compromised myself that I confess, I dare not.
I could not do anything that might incur his enmity--he had the
whip-hand of me completely--I, who had recently bought a knighthood,
just as easily as I could have bought a new hat.
"Suddenly, some one knocked. Ah! How we all started! I was the first
to spring to my feet. In a few moments all tools and implements we had
been using, had been spirited away. They had disappeared into
receptacles in the floor and in the walls, made specially for their
concealment. Then I unlocked the door. Gwen entered. She had been
dining out with friends, and had returned much earlier than she had
expected. Her bedroom was far removed from the room in which we were at
work, but she had noticed a faint light between a chink in the shutters,
and so, on entering the house, she had come up to that room."
And he was seized by another fit of coughing, and pointed to a glass
half-filled with liquid, which I placed to his lips.
"How surprised and startled she looked, at finding us all there,
apparently reading newspapers and smoking!" he went on. "That was the
first time she began to suspect--something. The glance she exchanged
with Paulton, brought the fire of jealousy to my brain. I believe at
that moment I went mad, for I loved her. I have a furious, a most awful
temper. You have never, in all these years we have known each other, my
boy, discovered that--and yet I say the truth. Yes--it--it got the
better of me that night. Without an instant's forethought, I sprang
across the room, crazed, beside myself with jealousy. I slammed the
door and locked it. Then rushing at my wife--God forgive my having done
it--I seized her by the arms, and flung her to the ground, charging her
with infidelity, vilifying her most horribly, hurling blasphemy upon
Paulton who, pale as death, glared at me. Then--ah, shall I ever forget
that moment!" he cried, in agony of mind. "Then he sprang at me. I
dodged him, and he slipped and fell. Instantly recovering himself, he
made a second rush. This time his half-brother, Sutton, came at me,
too, with a drawn knife. In my frenzy I picked up the nearest thing
handy, with which to defend myself. It was a short iron bar, used for
opening boxes, the only tool we had, in our haste, overlooked when
hiding the implements. With one bound, Paulton was upon me, his
half-brother just behind. As I aimed a terrific blow at him with the
iron rod, he ducked. The blow meant for him struck Sutton just below
the ear. The man collapsed in a heap upon the floor. He never spoke
again. He died without a cry!"
The dying man moaned again in mental agony, and moved feverishly upon
his pillow.
"Don't--don't tell me any more," I urged in distress, seeing how it
upset him to recall what had happened.
"I must. By Heaven, I must!" he exclaimed hoarsely. "You must know
everything before I die. I shall never rest unless you do. _Never_!"