THE CONVICT'S DEFENCE
Shaking in the body and white in the face, Ferris looked upon the
jewellery, which seemed positive evidence of his father's guilt, then
flung himself back on the couch with a groan, his hand over his eyes
to shut out the terrible sight--for terrible it was to him, the son of
Marmaduke Dean. Edith also gazed fearfully upon the heap of gold and
glittering stones, not doubting the truth of Gebb's story.
"Yes!" said the detective, raking the jewels together and replacing
them in the bag. "In looking for Miss Gilmar's confession I found
these in the room of Dean. They were hidden on the top of a tall press
in a dark corner, and I felt, rather than saw them. The case against
your father is clear enough, Mr. Ferris, although I was doubtful
of it at first. Mrs. Grix can prove that he spent the night of the
twenty-fourth of July away from the Hall. The ticket I found in Miss
Gilmar's room shows that he must have been there, since no one but he
could have possessed, in this especial instance, a ticket from
Norminster to London. I'll have the evidence of the station-master and
the ticket-clerk to prove his purchase of it shortly, and finally the
possession of this jewellery places the matter beyond all doubt."
"There must be some mistake," said Edith, when she found her tongue,
"for, although the evidence is against Mr. Dean, I can't believe him
guilty. He is an old, broken-down man, timid and cowed. To plan and
carry out so ingenious and remorseless a crime would need more spirit
and determination than he is possessed of. Besides," she added, very
reasonably, "If, as we all think, Mr. Dean is guiltless of Kirkstone's
death, why should he kill Miss Gilmar?"
"That is rather an argument against than in favour of him," said Gebb,
quietly. "If she condemned him unjustly, and bore false witness
against him, as I truly believe she did, that very fact would make him
all the more anxious to punish her for such perjury. What do you
think, Mr. Ferris?"
"What can I think?" groaned the young man. "The evidence seems to
prove my father's guilt. Still, on the face of it, I agree with Miss
Wedderburn; he cannot be guilty. Innocent men have been hanged on
evidence as conclusive; yet afterwards the truth has come to light. A
judge and jury found him guilty of Kirkstone's murder, which we are
now certain he did not commit, so it is possible that, despite the
evidence to the contrary, he may be innocent of this second crime. Mr.
Gebb!" added Ferris, entreatingly, "you know the whole of this matter,
and are more experienced in such cases than Miss Wedderburn and
myself. Tell us truly--Do you believe in my father's guilt?"
The detective hesitated, and, looking from one to the other, rubbed
his chin in a perplexed manner. "I shall answer you honestly, Mr.
Ferris," said he, after a pause. "I am not certain of your father's
guilt. I said that the possession of this jewellery placed the matter
beyond doubt; but against that I must place the fact--established by
strong circumstantial evidence--that Miss Gilmar received her assassin
as a friend. She was afraid of Dean, and even after the lapse of
twenty years she must have recognized him. In place of giving him wine
and cigarettes, her impulse would have been to cry out for help.
Moreover, without knowing all about her visitor--presuming he was
disguised--she would not have let him into her house. On the whole I
am doubtful. The fact of the jewellery being found in his room proves
his guilt; the fact that Miss Gilmar conversed with him as a friend
shows his innocence. Who can decide the matter?"
"I know!" said Edith, suddenly--"Mr. Dean himself. You say that he is
in Norminster gaol, Mr. Gebb. Well, that is only a mile from here, so
let us all three go there and question Mr. Dean. With this evidence
for and against him, he must either declare his innocence or admit his
guilt."
"It is the most straightforward course," said Gebb, with a nod. "What
do you say, Mr. Ferris?"
"I am content to abide by my father's word," replied Arthur, rising.
"Anything is better than this uncertainty. Let us go to Norminster
gaol."
"It's rather late," said Gebb, glancing at his watch. "However, I dare
say we shall have no difficulty in seeing the prisoner. Come along!"
In the then tumble-down, deserted condition of Kirkstone Hall there
was no vehicle obtainable, but the evening was pleasant and Norminster
no great distance away, so the three walked briskly along the road in
the cool, grey twilight. Conversing about the case made the way seem
short, and they soon arrived in the little town and halted before the
gates of the gaol. A word from Gebb procured them instant admittance,
and they were shown into the presence of the Governor, a retired
major, with a bluff manner and a twinkling eye, which was not
unobservant of Edith's good looks.
"Well, sir," said Gebb, almost immediately, "and how is your
prisoner?"
"Clothed and in his right mind!" replied the Governor. "He has given
over his sulking and feigned madness, and evidently seems resolved to
make the best of things. Indeed, I shouldn't be surprised, Mr. Gebb,
if he intended to make you his father-confessor, for he has asked
several times after you."
"Good!" said Gebb, rubbing his hands. "This looks like business; he
has thrown up the sponge."
"Will you see him now?" asked the Governor, with a side glance at
Edith.
"At once, if you please; and I wish this lady and gentleman to be
admitted with me."
"Well, it is hardly regular to admit strangers at this hour, Mr.
Gebb," said the Major. "Still, as you captured the man, and it is as
well for you to hear his confession, if he wishes to make it, I am
content to accede to your request. Have you any interest in the
matter?" he asked, looking at Edith inquisitively.
"Yes, The man was hidden in my place under the name of Martin," she
replied with a blush, not deeming it wise to further enlighten the
Governor.
"Indeed. You are Miss Wedderburn, of the Hall? I thought so. Well, go
along, all of you, but don't remain more than half an hour with the
prisoner. I have to lock up for the night shortly; and I may be
tempted to keep so fair a lady in my castle, you know."
Laughing at his own mild joke, the Governor gave his visitors over to
the guidance of a warder; and they were soon ushered into a cell,
where they found Dean sitting on his bed, chatting cheerfully with the
man who watched him. He sprang up to receive them, and after the
warder had exchanged a few words with the watcher, they both withdrew,
leaving the lamp in the cell. Gebb was much gratified by this mark of
the Governor's trust, and spoke to Dean with great complacency.
"I see you have come to your senses, Mr. Dean," he said civilly
enough, but with point. "It is about time, I think."
"As you say, about time," replied Dean, who had been greeting Edith
and his son. "I have given over fighting against the injustice of the
world. I was condemned, an innocent man, some twenty years ago, and I
escaped from my prison in the vain hope of getting Ellen Gilmar to
prove my innocence; but she is dead, and I am again in the hands of--I
won't say justice, but injustice."
"But why did you kill Miss Gilmar?" asked Gebb; for Ferris and Edith
sat by quietly, letting him conduct the conversation, as the most
capable person.
"I did not kill Miss Gilmar," replied Dean, firmly and sadly. "God
knows who sent that wicked woman to her last account, but it was not
I."
"Yet you uttered a threat against her."
"I did, in my first wrath at the injustice of my sentence; but nearly
twenty years of imprisonment removed revenge from my heart I came down
to Kirkstone Hall not to kill her, but to implore her to tell the
truth, and free me from undeserved shame. But she had fled, thinking
in her guilty mind that I intended to harm her. I told Miss Wedderburn
that I did not, also Ar--I mean Mr. Ferris."
"You can call him Arthur," said Gebb, coolly. "I know that he is your
son."
"Is this so?" asked Dean, looking with some surprise at Ferris.
"Yes, father. I told Mr. Gebb the truth, or, rather, I admitted it, as
he had already learned my relationship to you from Prain. He knows
everything, and we have come to ask you to right yourself in his
eyes--to confess."
"Confess, Arthur! Do you believe that I killed Kirkstone?"
"No," said Arthur, with conviction, "I do not."
"And you, Edith," said Dean, looking at the girl, "is it your opinion
that I am guilty of Miss Gilmar's death?"
"No," replied Edith, in her turn. "Appearances are against you, but I
truly believe you to be guiltless."
"And so I am, for----"
"Before you go on," interrupted Gebb, looking up, "I think it will be
best for you to approach this matter with more particularity. Were you
not at Grangebury on the night of the twenty-fourth of July?"
"Yes," admitted Dean, promptly, "I was. I went to see Mr. Basson, who
had been my counsel."
"About what?"
"About the confession of Miss Gilmar."
"What!" cried Gebb, in surprise. "You found it?"
"I found it on the twentieth of July, concealed in the Yellow Boudoir,
where Ellen Gilmar had hidden it. I know now who killed Kirkstone."
"Miss Laura!" cried the detective, knowing Dean's belief.
"No. Miss Gilmar herself was the murderess."
"Well, I never!" said Gebb; and looked at Edith and her lover, who
were not much astonished. "And where is the confession now?"
"Mr. Alder has it," was the unexpected reply.
"Alder! Why, he believes you to be guilty. He said so several times."
"I asked him to," replied Dean, quickly; "Mr. Alder has been a good
friend to me all through."
"He has been a good friend to us all," said Edith, touching Arthur's
hand. "Does Mr. Alder know who you are?"
"Yes. He had been present at my trial, you know, and, in spite of my
altered appearance, he recognized me on one of his visits to the Hall.
I begged him to keep my secret, and he did. I asked him to talk of me
as guilty, so that I might be the more effectually concealed."
"I don't see how that would help you," interrupted Gebb, sharply.
"Why not? If Alder had gone about insisting that I was innocent, you
might have suspected that he had seen me lately; while by stating what
everybody believed, no questions would be asked."
"True enough," said Gebb, his brow clearing. "But I confess this
disjointed information of yours puzzles me not a little. Suppose you
tell us the whole story from the time you first masqueraded as Mad
Martin."
"Certainly," assented Dean, readily. "I intended to do so, as I wish
you to help me to establish my innocence. Also, I owe it to my son and
Miss Wedderburn to relate things I formerly kept from them."
"We are all attention," said Edith, and leaned forward eagerly.
"When I was feigning madness at the Hall," said Dean, glancing at his
three auditors, "I was wondering all the time how I could prove my
innocence of Kirkstone's murder. One night, Mrs. Grix--who had found
out my true name--told me that Miss Gilmar had written a confession of
the crime; and--as she believed--had hidden it in the house. She
gathered this from some words let fall by Miss Gilmar. Thenceforth it
became the aim of my life to find that confession; but although I
looked everywhere, I could not discover it. Then Mr. Alder came
visiting at the Hall, as you know, Edith, and he guessed who I was.
Feeling that I could not deceive him, I confessed that I was really
Marmaduke Dean, and consulted him as to the possibility of proving my
innocence. Alder scoffed at the idea of a confession being in
existence, as he said if Miss Gilmar were guilty, she would not put
the fact down in black and white. He advised me to consult Basson, who
had been my counsel, and to see if I could not be cleared; but this I
was afraid to do, lest Basson should hand me over to the police."
"Oh, he would never have done that," said Gebb, remembering the
personality of Basson, "he is good nature itself."
"So Alder said," continued Dean. "Still I was too afraid to venture,
and remained in hiding at the Hall, thankful that Alder kept my secret
I must say that in every way he acted like a true friend, for he could
easily have given warning about me to the authorities."
"I wonder he did not do so for Miss Gilmar's sake," said Gebb.
"Had he deemed me guilty he would have done so," cried Dean, quickly;
"but I told him the whole facts of the case, and declared that Laura,
being possessed of the knife, had killed her brother. Alder in the end
said he believed in my innocence, but he declined to look upon Laura
as the assassin. He fancied that Miss Gilmar had committed the crime,
and to shield herself, and punish me for not being in love with her,
she accused me. Still, he declined to believe that she had confessed
her guilt in writing. I was certain, however, from what Mrs. Grix
said, that she had, and----"
"This is all very well," interrupted Gebb, quickly, "but it does not
explain your visit to Grangebury."