REVEALS A WOMAN'S LOVE
GREAT was the consternation caused in the neighbourhood of the sleepy
old-world village of Asheldham when it became known that the quiet,
mild-mannered tenant of The Yews had been arrested by the Maldon police.
Of what transpired within those grim walls only the two men called to his
assistance by Sergeant Deacon knew, and to them both the inspector from
Maldon, as well as Trendall, expressed a fervent hope that they would
regard the matter as strictly confidential.
"You see, gentlemen," added Trendall, "we are not desirous that the
public should know of our discovery. We wish to avoid creating undue
alarm, and at the same time to conceal the very existence of our system
of surveillance upon those suspected. Therefore, I trust that all of you
present will assist my department by preserving silence as to what has
occurred here this evening."
His hearers agreed willingly, and through the next hour the place was
thoroughly searched, the bundles of spurious notes--the finished ones
representing nearly one hundred thousand pounds ready to put into
circulation--being seized.
One of the machines they found was for printing in the serial numbers in
black, a process which, with genuine notes, is done by hand. Truly, the
gang had brought the art of forgery to perfection.
"Well," said Trendall when they had finished, "this work of yours, Sir
Hugh, certainly deserves the highest commendation. You have accomplished
what we, with all our great organisation, utterly failed to do."
"I have to-day tried to atone for my past offences," was the stern old
man's hoarse reply.
"And you have succeeded, Sir Hugh," declared Trendall. "Indeed you have!"
Shortly afterwards the excitement among the crowd waiting outside in the
light of the head-lamps of the motor-cars was increased by the appearance
of the doctor, escorted by two Maldon police officers in plain clothes.
They mounted a police car, and were driven away down the road, while into
a second car the tenant of The Yews and his Italian manservant were
placed under escort, and also driven away.
The station-fly, in which Bailey had driven from Southminster, conveyed
away Fetherston, Trendall, Sir Hugh, and Enid, while Deacon, with two
men, was left in charge of the house of secrets.
It was past one o'clock in the morning when Walter Fetherston stood alone
with Enid in the pretty drawing-room in Hill Street.
They stood together upon the _vieux rose_ hearthrug, his hand was upon
her shoulder, his deep, earnest gaze fixed upon hers. In her splendid
eyes the love light showed. They had both admired each other intensely
from their first meeting, and had become very good and staunch friends.
Walter Fetherston had only once spoken of the passion that had constantly
consumed his heart--when they were by the blue sea at Biarritz. He loved
her--loved her with the whole strength of his being--and yet, ah! try how
he would, he could never put aside the dark cloud of suspicion which, as
the days went by, became more and more impenetrable.
Sweet-faced, frank, and open, she stood, the ideal of the English outdoor
girl, merry, quick-witted, and athletic. And yet, after the stress of
war, she had sacrificed all that she held most dear in order to become
the friend of Weirmarsh. Why?
"Enid," he said at last, his tender hand still upon her shoulder, "why
did you not tell me your true position? You were working in the same
direction, with the same strong motive of patriotism, as myself!"
She was silent, very pale, and very serious.
"I feared to tell you, Walter," she faltered. "How could I possibly
reveal to you the truth when I knew you were aware how my stepfather had
unconsciously betrayed his friends? You judged us both as undesirables,
therefore any attempt at explanation would, I know, only aggravate our
offence in your eyes. Ah! you do not know how intensely I have suffered!
How bitter it all was! I knew the reason you followed us to France--to
watch and confirm your suspicions."
"I admit, Enid, that I suspected you of being in the hands of a set of
scoundrels," her lover said in a low, hoarse voice. "At first I hesitated
whether to warn you of your peril after Weirmarsh had, with such
dastardly cunning, betrayed you to the French police, but--well," he
added as he looked again into her dear eyes long and earnestly, "I loved
you, Enid," he blurted forth. "I told you so! Remember, dear, what you
said at Biarritz? And I love you--and because of that I resolved to save
you!"
"Which you did," she said in a strained, mechanical tone. "We both have
you to thank for our escape. Weirmarsh, having first implicated Paul,
then made allegations against us, in order to send us to prison, because
he feared lest my stepfather might, in a fit of remorse, act indiscreetly
and make a confession."
"The past will all be forgiven now that Sir Hugh has been able to expose
and unmask Weirmarsh and his band," Walter assured her. "A great
sensation may possibly result, but it will, in any case, show that even
though an Englishman may be bought, he can still remain honest. And," he
added, "it will also show them that there is at least one brave woman in
England who sacrificed her love--for I know well, Enid, that you fully
reciprocate the great affection I feel towards you--in order to bear her
noble part in combating a wily and unscrupulous gang."
"It was surely my duty," replied the girl simply, her eyes downcast in
modesty. "Yet association with that dastardly blackguard, Dr. Weirmarsh,
was horrible! How I refrained from turning upon him through all those
months I cannot really tell. I detested him from the first moment Sir
Hugh invited him to our table; and though I went to assist him under
guise of consultations, I acted with one object all along," she
declared, her eyes raised to his and flashing, "to expose him in his true
guise--that of Josef Blot, the head of the most dangerous association of
forgers, of international thieves and blackmailers known to the police
for the past half a century."
"Which you have surely done! You have revealed the whole plot, and
confounded those who were so cleverly conspiring to effect a sudden and
most gigantic coup. But----" and he paused, still looking into her eyes
through his pince-nez, and sighed.
"But what?" she asked, in some surprise at his sudden change of manner.
"There is one matter, Enid, which"--and he paused--"well, which is still
a mystery to me, and I--I want you to explain it," he said in slow
deliberation.
"What is that?" she asked, looking at him quickly.
"The mystery which you have always refused to assist me in
unravelling--the mystery of the death of Harry Bellairs," was his quiet
reply. "You held him in high esteem; you loved him," he added in a voice
scarce above a whisper.
She drew back, her countenance suddenly blanched as she put her hand
quickly to her brow and reeled slightly as though she had been dealt a
blow.
Walter watched her in blank wonderment.