A FINAL EXPLANATION
Sylvia was ill for a long time after that terrible hour. Although Maud
had not succeeded in strangling her, yet the black silk handkerchief
left marks on her neck. Then the struggle, the shock and the remembrance
of the horrors related by the miserable woman, threw her into a nervous
fever, and it was many weeks before she recovered sufficiently to enjoy
life. Deborah never forgave herself for having left Sylvia alone, and
nursed her with a fierce tenderness which was the result of remorse.
"If that wretch 'ad killed my pretty," she said to Paul, "I'd ha' killed
her, if I wos hanged fur it five times over."
"God has punished the woman," said Paul, solemnly. "And a terrible death
she met with, being mutilated by the wheels of the train."
"Serve 'er right," rejoined Deborah, heartlessly. "What kin you expect
fur good folk if wicked ones, as go strangulating people, don't git the
Lord down on 'em. Oh, Mr. Beecot," Deborah broke down into noisy tears,
"the 'orrors that my lovely one 'ave tole me. I tried to stop her, but
she would tork, and was what you might call delirous-like. Sich murders
and gory assassins as wos never 'eard of."
"I gathered something of this from what Sylvia let drop when we came
back from the station," said Beecot, anxiously. "Tell me exactly what
she said, Deborah."
"Why that thing as is dead, an' may she rest in a peace, she don't
deserve, tole 'ow she murdered Lady Rachel Sandal an' my ole master."
"Deborah," cried Beecot, amazed. "You must be mistaken."
"No, I ain't, sir. That thing guv my lily-queen the 'orrors. Jes you
'ear, Mr. Beecot, and creeps will go up your back. Lor' 'ave mercy on us
as don't know the wickedness of the world."
"I think we have learned something of it lately, Mrs. Tawsey," was
Paul's grim reply. "But tell me--"
"Wot my pore angel sunbeam said? I will, and if it gives you nightmares
don't blame me," and Mrs. Tawsey, in her own vigorous, ungrammatical
way, related what she had heard from Sylvia. Paul was struck with horror
and wanted to see Sylvia. But this Deborah would not allow. "She's
sleepin' like a pretty daisy," said Mrs. Tawsey, "so don't you go
a-disturbin' of her nohow, though acrost my corp you may make a try, say
what you like."
But Paul thought better of it, thinking Sylvia had best be left in the
rough, kindly hands of her old nurse. He went off to find Hurd, and
related all that had taken place. The detective was equally horrified
along with Beecot when he heard of Sylvia's danger, and set to work to
prove the truth of what Maud had told the girl. He succeeded so well
that within a comparatively short space of time, the whole matter was
made clear. Mrs. Jessop, _alias_ Mrs. Krill, was examined, Tray was
found and questioned, Matilda was made to speak out, and both Jessop and
Hokar had to make clean breasts of it. The evidence thus procured proved
the truth of the terrible confession made by Maud Jessop to the girl she
thought to strangle. Hurd was amazed at the revelation.
"Never call me a detective again," he said to Paul. "For I am an ass. I
thought Jessop might be guilty, or that Hokar might have done it. I
could have taken my Bible oath that Mrs. Krill strangled the man; but I
never for one moment suspected that smiling young woman."
"Oh," Paul shrugged his shoulders, "she was mad."
"She must have been," ruminated the detective, "else she wouldn't have
given herself away so completely. Whatever made her tell Miss Norman
what she had done?"
"Because she never thought that Sylvia would live to tell anyone else.
That was why she spoke, and thought to torture Sylvia--as she did--in
the same way as she tortured that wretched man Lemuel. If I hadn't come
earlier to Rose Cottage than usual, and if Deborah had not met me
unexpectedly at the station, Sylvia would certainly have been killed.
And then Maud might have escaped. She laid her plans well. It was she
who induced Matilda to get her sister to come to Kensington for a chat."
"But Matilda didn't know what Maud was up to?"
"No. Matilda never guessed that Maud was guilty of two murders or
designed to strangle Sylvia. But Maud made use of her to get Deborah out
of the house, and it was Maud who made Tray send the letter asking Mrs.
Purr to come to him, so that she also might be out of the way. In fact
Maud arranged so that everyone should be away and Sylvia alone. If she
hadn't wasted time in telling her fearful story, she might have killed
my poor love. Sylvia was quite exhausted with the struggle."
"Well," said Hurd. "I went with the old woman to the address given in
that letter which Tray got written for him. He wasn't there, however, so
I might have guessed it was a do."
"But you have caught him?"
"Yes, in Hunter Street. He was loafing about there at night waiting for
Maud, and quite ignorant of her death. I made him tell me everything of
his connection with the matter. He's as bad a lot as that girl, but she
had some excuse, seeing her grandmother was a murderess; Tray is nothing
but a wicked little imp."
"Will he be hanged?"
"No, I think not. His youth will be in his favor, though I'd hang him
myself had I the chance, and so put him beyond the reach of hurting
anyone. But I expect he'll get a long sentence."
"And Mrs. Krill?"
"Mrs. Jessop you mean. Hum! I don't know. She apparently was ignorant
that Maud killed Krill, though she might have guessed it, after the way
in which Lady Rachel was murdered. I daresay she'll get off. I'm going
to see her shortly and tell her of the terrible death of her daughter."
Paul did not pursue the conversation. He was sick with the horror of the
business, and, moreover, was too anxious about Sylvia's health to take
much interest in the winding up of the case. That he left in the hands
of Hurd, and assured him that the thousand pounds reward, which Mrs.
Krill had offered, would be paid to him by Miss Norman.
Of course, Pash had known for some time that Maud was too old to have
been born of Mrs. Jessop's second marriage with Krill; but he never knew
that the widow had committed bigamy. He counted on keeping her under his
thumb by threatening to prove that Maud was not legally entitled to the
money. But when the discovery was made at Beechill and Stowley Churches
by Miss Qian, the monkey-faced lawyer could do nothing. Beecot could
have exposed him, and for his malpractices have got him struck off the
rolls; but he simply punished him by taking away Sylvia's business and
giving it to Ford. That enterprising young solicitor speedily placed
the monetary affairs on a proper basis and saw that Sylvia was properly
reinstated in her rights. Seeing that she was the only child and legal
heiress of Krill, this was not difficult. The two women who had
illegally secured possession of the money had spent a great deal in a
very wasteful manner, but the dead man's investments were so excellent
and judicious that Sylvia lost comparatively little, and became
possessed of nearly five thousand a year, with a prospect of her income
increasing. But she was too ill to appreciate this good fortune. The
case got into the papers, and everyone was astonished at the strange
sequel to the Gwynne Street mystery. Beecot senior, reading the papers,
learned that Sylvia was once more an heiress, and forthwith held out an
olive branch to Paul. Moreover, the frantic old gentleman, as Deborah
called him, really began to feel his years, and to feel also that he had
treated his only son rather harshly. So he magnanimously offered to
forgive Paul on no conditions whatsoever. For the sake of his mother,
the young man buried the past and went down to be received in a stately
manner by his father, and with joyful tears by his mother. Also he was
most anxious to hear details of the case which had not been made public.
Paul told him everything, and Beecot senior snorted with rage. The
recital proved too much for Mrs. Beecot, who retired as usual to bed and
fortified herself with sal volatile; but Paul and his respected parent
sat up till late discussing the matter.
"And now, sir," said Beecot senior, grasping the stem of his wine glass,
as though he intended to hurl it at his son, "let us gather up the
threads of this infamous case. This atrocious woman who tried to
strangle your future wife?"
"She has been buried quietly. Her mother was at the funeral and so was
the father."
"A pretty pair," gobbled the turkey-cock, growing red. "I suppose the
Government will hang the pair?"
"No. Captain Jessop can't be touched as he had nothing to do with the
murder, and Sylvia and myself are not going to prosecute him for his
attempt to get the jewels from Pash."
"Then you ought to. It's a duty you owe to society."
Paul shook his head. "I think it best to leave things as they are,
father," he said mildly, "especially as Mrs. Jessop, much broken in
health because of her daughter's terrible end, has gone back with her
husband to live at his house in Stowley."
"What," shouted Beecot senior, "is that she-devil to go free, too?"
"I don't think she was so bad as we thought," said Paul. "I fancied she
was a thoroughly bad woman, but she really was not. She certainly
committed bigamy, but then she thought Jessop was drowned. When he came
to life she preferred to live with Krill, as he had more money than
Jessop."
"And, therefore, Jessop, as you say, had free quarters at 'The Red Pig.'
A most immoral woman, sir--most immoral. She ought to be ducked."
"Poor wretch," said Paul, "her mind has nearly given way under the shock
of her daughter's death. She loved that child and shielded her from the
consequences of killing Lady Rachel. The Sandal family don't want the
case revived, especially as Maud is dead, so Mrs. Jessop--as she is
now--can end her days in peace. The Government decided to let her go
under the circumstances."
"Tush," said Beecot senior, "sugar-coated pills and idiocy. Nothing will
ever be done properly until this Government goes out. And it will,"
striking the table with his fist, "if I have anything to do with the
matter. So Mrs. Krill or Jessop is free to murder, and--"
"She murdered no one," interposed Paul, quickly; "she knew that her
daughter had killed Lady Rachel, and shielded her. But she was never
sure if Maud had strangled Krill, as she feared to ask her. But as the
girl was out all night at the time of the murder, Mrs. Jessop, I think,
knows more than she choses to admit. However, the Treasury won't
prosecute her, and her mind is now weak. Let the poor creature end her
days with Jessop, father. Is there anything else you wish to know?"
"That boy Tray?"
"He was tried for being an accessory before the crime, but his counsel
put forward the plea of his age, and that he had been under the
influence of Maud. He has been sent to a reformatory for a good number
of years. He may improve."
"Huh!" grunted the old gentleman, "and silk purses may be made out of
sow's ears; but not in our time, my boy. We'll hear more of that
juvenile scoundrel yet. Now that, that blackguard, Hay?"
"He has gone abroad, and is likely to remain abroad. Sandal and Tempest
kept their word, but I think Hurd put it about that Hay was a cheat and
a scoundrel. Poor Hay," sighed Paul, "he has ruined his career."
"Bah! he never had one. If you pity scoundrels, Paul, what are you to
think of good people?"
"Such as Deborah who is nursing my darling? I think she's the best woman
in the world."
"Except your mother?"
Paul nearly fell from his seat on hearing this remark. Beecot senior
certainly might have been in earnest, but his good opinion did not
prevent him still continuing to worry Mrs. Beecot, which he did to the
end of her life.
"I suppose that Matilda Junk creature had nothing to do with the
murder?" asked Beecot, after an embarrassing pause--on his son's part.
"No. She knew absolutely nothing, and only attacked Deborah because she
fancied Deborah was attacking Maud. However, the two sisters have made
it up, and Matilda has gone back to 'The Red Pig.' She's as decent a
creature as Deborah, in another way, and was absolutely ignorant of
Maud's wickedness. Hurd guessed that when she spoke to him so freely at
Christchurch."
"And the Thug?"
"Hokar? Oh, he is not really a Thug, but the descendant of one. However,
they can't prove that he strangled anything beyond a few cats and dogs
when he showed Maud how to use the roomal--that's the handkerchief with
which the Thugs strangled their victims."
"I'm not absolutely ignorant," growled his father. "I know that. So this
Hokar goes free?"
"Yes. He would not strangle Aaron Norman because he had but one eye, and
Bhowanee won't accept maimed persons. Failing him, Maud had to attend to
the job herself, with the assistance of Tray."
"And this detective?"
"Oh, Ford, with Sylvia's sanction, has paid him the thousand pounds,
which he shares with his sister, Aurora Qian. But for her searching at
Stowley and Beechill, we should never have known about the marriage, you
know."
"No, I don't know. They're far too highly paid. The marriage would have
come to light in another way. However, waste your own money if you like;
it isn't mine."
"Nor mine either, father," said Paul, sharply. "Sylvia will keep her own
fortune. I am not a man to live on my wife. I intend to take a house in
town when we are married, and then I'll still continue to write."
"Without the spur of poverty you'll never make a hit," grinned the old
gentleman. "However, you can live where you please. It's no business of
mine but I demand, as your indulgent father, that you'll bring Sylvia
down here at least three times a year. Whenever she is well I want to
see her."
"I'll bring her next week," said Paul, thinking of his mother. "But
Deborah must come too. She won't leave Sylvia."
"The house is big enough. Bring Mrs. Tawsey also--I'm rather anxious to
see her. And Sylvia will be a good companion for your mother."
So matters were arranged in this way, and when Paul returned to town he
went at once to tell Sylvia of the reconciliation. He found her, propped
up with pillows, seated by the fire, looking much better, although she
was still thin and rather haggard. Deborah hovered round her and spoke
in a cautious whisper, which was more annoying than a loud voice would
have been. Sylvia flushed with joy when she saw Paul, and flushed still
more when she heard the good news.
"I am so glad, darling," she said, holding Paul's hand in her thin ones.
"I should not have liked our marriage to have kept you from your
father."
Mrs. Tawsey snorted. "His frantic par," she said, "ah, well, when I meet
'im, if he dares to say a word agin my pretty--"
"My father is quite ready to welcome her as a daughter," said Paul,
quickly.
"An' no poor one either," cried Deborah, triumphantly. "Five thousand a
year, as that nice young man Mr. Ford have told us is right. Lor'! my
lovely queen, you'll drive in your chariot and forget Debby."
"You foolish old thing," said the girl, fondly, "you held to me in my
troubles and you shall share in my joy."
"Allays purvidin' I don't 'ave to leave the laundry in charge of Bart
an' Mrs. Purr, both bein' infants of silliness, one with gin and t'other
with weakness of brain. It's well I made Bart promise to love, honor and
obey me, Mr. Beecot, the same as you must do to my own lily flower
there."
"No, _I_ am to love, honor and obey Paul," cried Sylvia.
"When?" he asked, taking her in his arms.
"As soon as I can stand at the altar," she replied, blushing, whereat
Deborah clapped her hands.
"Weddin's an' weddin's an' weddin's agin," cried Mrs. Tawsey, "which my
sister Matilder being weary of 'er spinstering 'ome 'ave made up 'er
mind to marry the fust as offers. An' won't she lead 'im a dance
neither--oh, no, not at all."
"Well, Deborah," said Beecot, "we have much to be thankful for, all of
us. Let us try and show our gratitude in our lives."
"Ah, well, you may say that," sighed Mrs. Tawsey, in a devout manner.
"Who'd ha' thought things would have turned out so 'appy-like indeed.
But you go on with your billin', my lovely ones, and I'll git th'
mutting broth to put color int' my pretty's cheeks," and she bustled
out.
Sylvia's heart was too full to say anything. She lay in Paul's strong
arms, her cheek against his. There she would remain for the rest of her
life, protected from storm and tempest. And as they sat in silence, the
chimes of an ancient grandfather's clock, Deborah's chief treasure, rang
out twice, thrice and again. Paul laughed softly.
"It's like wedding-bells," he whispered, and his future wife sighed a
sigh of heart-felt joy.
THE END
THE BEST NOVELS BY FERGUS HUME
The Mystery of a Hansom Cab $1.25
The Sealed Message 1.25
The Sacred Herb 1.25
Claude Duval of Ninety-five 1.25
The Rainbow Feather 1.25
The Pagan's Cup 1.25
A Coin of Edward VII 1.25
The Yellow Holly 1.25
The Red Window 1.25
The Mandarin's Fan 1.25
The Secret Passage 1.25
The Opal Serpent 1.25
Lady Jim of Curzon Street 1.50
Transcriber's Note
In this the ASCII version, accents have been dropped.
The advert ("The Best Novels by Fergus Hume") was originally at the
front of the book, but has been moved to the end.
The following typographical corrections have been made:
(page 8) "furthur" changed to "further"
(page 11) "Notebook" changed to "Note-book"
(page 33) "lookout" changed to "look-out"
(page 49) "eyeglass" changed to "eye-glass"
(page 59) "hand-bag" changed to "handbag"
(pages 71, 85) "agoin'" changed to "a-goin'"
(page 71) "It" changed to "If" in "If we come to"
(page 84) quotation mark added after "look--look--"
(page 109) "Deborrah" changed to "Deborah"
(page 111) quotation mark added before "How dare you"
(page 113) "pou" changed to "you" ("before you became an heiress")
(page 132) "is" changed to "it" ("that is was picked up")
(page 140) "mid-night" changed to "midnight"
(page 163) "schoolfellow" changed to "school-fellow"
(page 173) "non-plussed" changed to "nonplussed"
(page 180) "handbills" changed to "hand-bills"
(page 188) "beliving" changed to "believing"
(pages 203, 204) "bed-post" changed to "bedpost"
(page 214) "sipte" changed to "spite"
(page 211) used single quotation marks for the inscription
(page 225) quotation mark added before "On no condition"
(page 243) quotation mark added after "seem to win,"
(page 264) quotation mark added before "for I"
(page 269) quotation mark added after "certificate."
(page 276) question mark added after "lawyer you are"
(page 303) "pining" changed to "pinning"
(page 315) "slience" changed to "silence"