AN ASTONISHING COMMUNICATION
At Haverton everything shaped well. Picton asked Rita to be his wife
and she consented. They were very happy, Dick rejoiced exceedingly,
Captain Ben was pleased, Brack congratulated them in his quaint way
before he returned to Torquay.
"I'll give you The Rascal for a wedding present," said Dick. "I hope
he'll win the National for you."
"He will have a good chance," said Picton. "It is a very welcome
gift."
"I think you and Rita will be happy," Dick said.
"We shall, and when she is mistress here there will be a delightful
change for the better," said Picton.
"I hope there will be no collision between Rita and Mrs. Yeoman,"
laughed Dick.
"No fear of that. She is very fond of Rita; she told me so, said she
was very pleased I was going to marry her."
"Then that's all right," said Dick.
He and his sister remained a week longer, then returned to Torwood;
Rita and Picton were to be married from there early in the New Year.
Dr. Elroy came from Doncaster for a few days' shooting. Picton
liked him, so did Captain Ben. The doctor was an excellent shot, and
accounted for many brace of grouse; he also showed some knowledge of
horses, which at once ensured Brant's good opinion.
It was during the doctor's stay Picton received a letter from his
brother, containing an enclosure. Both astonished him immensely, and
small wonder.
He read them carefully twice, and decided that Hector's wishes should
be obeyed. These were to the effect that Picton should read them
to Captain Ben, Sir Robert Raines, and any other persons he thought
desirable should know the truth. Picton decided Dr. Elroy should join
them when he read the letter. Sir Robert received a hasty summons to
Haverton.
"Wonder what's in the wind now," he said.
"A trial I expect," said his wife.
"You and Mr. Woodridge think of nothing but horses."
"I have had a communication I wish you to hear," said Picton. "I have
heard from my brother."
"Hector!" exclaimed Sir Robert.
"Yes. He is alive and well. He knows you are to be trusted; he wished
you to hear all he has written. You will be surprised to learn William
Rolfe is Hector."
"Good heavens!" exclaimed Sir Robert. "Do you know, Picton, my boy, I
thought he resembled him, but of course I had no idea he was Hector.
It's wonderful; how did he get away?"
Picton gave him an account of Hector's escape and how he boarded the
_Sea-mew_, and all that followed.
"The strangest part of the story is better told in his own words,"
said Picton. "I wish you, Captain Ben, and Dr. Elroy to hear it."
Sir Robert was lost in wonder at such strange happenings. When they
were all seated in Picton's study he asked them to promise to keep
everything secret, which they readily did, when he explained whom the
communication was from.
Picton began Hector's letter, which, after a few preliminaries, read
as follows: "You know how I escaped, and thanks to the good farmer
on the moor, and with the aid of Brack, boarded the _Sea-mew_ and
got safely away. Then, taking the name of William Rolfe, I came to
Haverton and no one knew me. I wish it to be thought that Hector
Woodridge is dead, that I am William Rolfe, and shall always remain
so, for reasons which I will explain, and which will cause you great
astonishment. Something wonderful has happened since I left Haverton,
something that surprises me even now, and which I can hardly
understand, yet it is an accomplished fact, and I shall never regret
it.
"I met Lenise Elroy at Doncaster station by appointment; we traveled
alone in a reserved compartment. You have some idea of the vengeance
I intended taking upon her, but you have no conception how terrible it
was to be. I purposed carrying it out in the train, declaring to
her who I was--she thought I was William Rolfe. I gradually led the
conversation up to a point when I could relate to her how Hector
Woodridge escaped and boarded the _Sea-mew_, and that he was alive and
well, living under an assumed name. I posed as his best friend. She
was amazed, and frightened, at the minute details I gave her, thought
it uncanny. There was a dramatic moment when she explained what
happened when Elroy was shot, in order to clear herself, offer an
excuse for her conduct. She said Hector Woodridge pointed the revolver
at Elroy and as he advanced, fired. Then I said, 'You pulled the
trigger.' This, as you may imagine, was a knock-down blow for her; she
almost fainted. She denied it, of course; it was a critical moment.
Then I bade her look in my face, asked her if she recognized me.
Gradually she did so; she fell on her knees, clasped my legs, sobbed
as though her heart would break. She confessed all. She said I held
the revolver pointed at Elroy, but she pulled my hand back, and it
went off, killing him. I enclose a confession she has signed to this
effect. It proves my innocence. I did not actually fire the shot,
although I leveled the revolver at him, to frighten and keep him back.
I had no intention of shooting him; as God is my judge, I did not wish
to take his life. She acted on a sudden impulse; perhaps she wished to
pull my hand down, thinking I intended shooting him, and, as my finger
was on the trigger, it went off. It was all a terrible blunder, which
she and I have suffered terribly for. You little know how she has
suffered; she has told me and I believe her. What I suffered no one
can imagine, but I believe I can learn to forget it under the new
conditions of life I have mapped out.
"As she knelt at my feet sobbing, a strange revulsion of feeling swept
over me. Before all this happened she acknowledged she loved me as
William Rolfe, that she had done so from the first time we met.
"I looked down at her and spoke gently. She noticed the changed
tone in my voice and raised her head. 'Hector!' she cried in strange
surprise.
"Stooping down I raised her gently. I felt no desire for revenge; all
my savage feelings were swept away. I loved her, loved Lenise Elroy,
who had so deeply wronged me, with an undying love. I knew I had
always loved her, even when in prison, and my feelings were bitterest
against her. She saw something of this in my face. I kissed her and
held her close to me. From that moment, Picton, I forgave all, she was
very dear to me. No matter how she had sinned I knew she had
always been mine. I remembered how she surrendered herself to me; I
recognized that I had tempted her, as she had tempted me; that we were
both guilty, that had I behaved as a man, and kept away from her, the
tragedy which blighted so many lives would not have happened.
"We sat side by side and did not speak. The wonder of it all swept
over us and held us silent. We looked into each other's eyes and read
our thoughts. She was transfigured, a different woman, a new soul had
entered her body, she was not the Lenise Elroy of old days. I felt all
this; I was certain I could rely upon her. She spoke at last, and said
she would write a confession which I could place in your hands to do
as you wished with; she would abide the consequences. I have sent this
to you, Picton, knowing you will never make it public, but hide it
in some place until our deaths take place. You can read it to our old
friend Sir Robert, and Captain Ben, and any one else you think ought
to know, and that you can depend upon to keep silent. It is short, but
true, and she has signed it.
"Perhaps the strangest news of all for you is that we are married, and
are now Mr. and Mrs. Rolfe. I wished it to take place at once, and she
was willing to do anything I asked.
"As Mr. and Mrs. William Rolfe, we sail for Melbourne in a fortnight,
where I shall go up country and buy a small station somewhere. We
intend to keep out of the world, to live for ourselves. Lenise wishes
it, she says a lifelong devotion to me will only help to blot out the
past. Of her love I am certain; she is not demonstrative, but I catch
her sometimes unawares, and her face expresses her thoughts. Forgive
her as I have, Picton, write her a kindly letter, tell her she has
done right, wish her happiness in her new life. We shall not come to
Haverton; it is better not.
"I won a large sum over Tearaway; I had a thousand pounds on her at
a hundred to three. I do not want any more money. Keep the dear old
place up; some day we may see it, but not for years--it may be never.
I should like to see you, Sir Robert, and Captain Ben, if you will
meet me in town, just to say farewell. I hope you will be happy with
Rita; I am sure you will. At some future time you may tell her the
tramp she treated so kindly on his way to Torquay was your brother
Hector. I have Dick's coat she gave me; I shall always keep it as
a treasured remembrance of a good woman's kindness and sympathy.
Remember always that Hector Woodridge is dead, that William Rolfe
lives, and is a settler in Australia. In that great country we shall
be surrounded by new scenes, faces, and places; no one will know us;
we shall live our lives peacefully until the end.
"The storm is over, Picton, and calm come at last. This is how I took
my revenge. How strange are the workings of Providence, how sure is
His eternal justice, how wonderful and mysterious His ordering of all
things!"
Picton then read Lenise's confession, which exonerated Hector from
blame. It was brief and to the point; she did not spare herself.
"I'll tell you what, Picton, Hector's a great man, an extraordinary
man, he deserves the highest praise we can give him," said Sir Robert,
and with this they all agreed.
"Remember, Hector is dead, William Rolfe lives," said Picton, and
again they agreed to abide by this decision.