CHAPTER XXVI

A Tell-tale Ornament

"No, you don't!" I remarked, cheerfully, and with the force of superior

muscles I pulled him towards me. "Come, sit down here by me," I said. "I

want to talk to you." And somehow it came about that we subsided on the

cushioned seat together.

He had recognised me, of course, as the man he had seen in the

hotel--the man, Noel Stanton, against whom I did not doubt his cablegram

had warned him. He was pale as death, and I could see that this meeting,

added, like the piling of Ossa upon Pelion, on top of all that he had

already gone through, had robbed him of the shattered remnant of his

nerve.

Still, he was ready to "bluff" and brave if out while he could.

"Confound you!" he exclaimed. "What are you about? You must be mad to

attack a stranger without the slightest provocation. Let me alone, sir,

or I'll rouse the car."

"I wouldn't, you know, if I were you," I said coolly, for the more

excited he grew the more did my own calmness come back to me. "You've

been playing a dangerous game ever since you took your passage in the

American liner _St. Paul_ (or, rather, since Carson Wildred took it

for you), but you've never, perhaps, steered so close to the wind as

to-night, when you resorted to incendiarism as a finishing stroke."

The fellow stared at me in simulated nonchalance and defiance, but my

hand was on his shoulder still, and I could feel the shudder that ran

through his body.

"I say you must be mad," he reiterated.

"So you observed before; but I could very easily prove to you that I'm

not, if you were not already sure of it. You can call for assistance if

you like, but if you do the story I've got to tell will go flashing over

the wires back to 'Frisco, and on to Denver, and you will find yourself

in almost as hot a place as if you had stayed at the Santa Anna Hotel,

where you wanted the world to think that poor Harvey Farnham had been

roasted."

Once more the fit of shivering seized him. He glanced wildly about, as

though to find some means of escape, but there was none.

"I am a bigger man and a stronger man than you," I remarked, in a

significant and reflective manner. "Better hear the alternative I've got

to offer. I know everything, you see--that is, everything that concerns

_you_, and the curious game you've been playing.

"I've been just three days behind you everywhere since you left New

York. I've got every link in the evidence now, and what with Bennett, of

Denver, and the proprietor of the Santa Anna Hotel, and a few others, I

can burst your wretched little soap bubble plot in four-and-twenty

hours. There's just one way in which you can stay my hand."

"What's that?" He had spoken out impulsively, before he had stopped to

think. The instant the words were uttered he saw all that they admitted,

and bit his lip. But it was too late; he was completely trapped.

"I'll tell you," I said, keeping my hand on his shoulder, almost

caressingly. "I'd listen attentively, if I were in your place. What you

can do is to make a clean breast of your story from beginning to end.

I'm willing to pay you more for confessing than Wildred did for

plotting. Then you must go back to England with me, and stand by while

the thing is made public."

As I spoke he did not once take his eyes from me. It was remarkable even

yet, now that he was out of his disguise, how strong his likeness was to

Farnham. He might have been a younger brother.

When I had finished he sighed and drooped his head. His own hair, which

was very closely cut, was of a beautiful reddish golden colour, much the

shade of Karine Cunningham's, as the light fell on it from above. I

thought of her with a great wave of passionate love, and more of hope

than I had dared to feel for many a long day.

Perhaps it was the recollection of her lovely face and the wonderful

halo of her hair which caused me for an instant to relax my grasp. I

only became conscious of having done so when the fellow twisted himself

from under my hand, and springing lithely to his feet would have darted

through the swing door had I not leaped after him like a tiger.

We fought together as the car swayed and bounded along its tracks. Once

he dived under my arm and was almost out of my clutches, but I caught

him by the collar with so fierce a grip that the linen of his shirt

tore, and the garment ripped open to the waistcoat.

Something which he wore beneath snapped, as he still struggled to escape

me, and a bright object flashed under my eyes as it fell, and dropped

with a slight metallic noise to the floor.

Evidently it was to him an article of value. Impulsively he stooped,

forgetful for a second of the object which had animated him, and thus

the advantage became all mine again. I had him pinioned fast.

At our feet, I now had time to observe, lay a broken gold chain and a

locket.

Twisting my hand firmly in his collar I bent over and picked up the

ornaments. "Allow me," I said, smiling. And as I was about to put the

locket in his hand I could not avoid seeing the portrait that it framed.

It was an open-faced, old-fashioned thing, set round with a rim of

pearls. The crystal had been cracked across in the fall, but the

delicately painted ivory miniature within was intact, and I gave a

slight exclamation as I saw that it represented Karine Cunningham.

If I had been surprised to see her picture in the "studio" at the House

by the Lock, I was doubly surprised to see it in a locket worn by a

young desperado on the other side of the world. Impulsively I withdrew

my hand which held the ornament, with the feeling that the man had no

right to it--that I could not return it to him again.

"Give it back to me!" he ejaculated, forgetting his evident fear of me

for the first time, and speaking with a certain manly fierceness that

thawed the chill of my contempt for him. "If I've got a right to nothing

else on earth, I've got a right to that. It's a portrait of my sister."

"_Your sister!_ You swear that?"

"Of course I swear it. I don't see why you shouldn't know it--though I

haven't done much credit to the name of Cunningham."

I could not doubt him. Not that I had not every reason to believe that

he would be willing to lie as fast as he could speak if it happened to

suit his purpose, but the ring of sincerity in his voice was

unmistakable.

I let go my hold upon him. Such was his astonishment at the manoeuvre

that he made no attempt to take advantage of his freedom, but simply

stood still and stared at me.

"Here is the locket," I said. "I came from England to California to

serve Miss Cunningham's interests, and I will not lay my hand upon her

brother."

"I don't know what you mean," he said, sullenly.

"I'll tell you," I returned, "if you'll sit down here and listen to me

for a few minutes longer. After that, as far as I am concerned, you are

free to do as you choose. You look surprised--but whatever may have been

your faults and your offences, I would stake my life you love your

sister."

"She is the only being on earth I do love," he replied, still half

dazedly.

Then he sat down, his eyes furtively on me, and I seated myself beside

him.

"She is sacrificing herself for someone," I remarked. "I think I begin

dimly to understand now who that someone may be. I think, too, that

circumstances have given me the right to be inquisitive, as I can still

further explain to you later on. Is Miss Cunningham going to marry

Carson Wildred to save you from any unpleasant consequences of the past,

for instance?"

He started as though he had been struck.

"She is _not_ going to marry Carson Wildred!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, yes, she is, unless it can be prevented. I see I have even more to

tell you than I thought. Is it long, may I ask, since you have seen your

sister?"

"Last November," he said drooping his head, and bringing under my eyes

again the hair that was like hers.

"Ah, that explains your ignorance. The man had not shown his hand at

that time. Now I am going to trust to your affection for Miss

Cunningham, to your presumable wish to save her from unhappiness, and

talk to you as though we had been allies instead of enemies. Perhaps I

may be a fool for my pains; but something seems to say to me----"

"Something says right. Go on!" he ejaculated, gruffly.

No doubt the very most dunder-headed of lawyers or detectives would have

told me that I was mad, thus deliberately to give all my good trumps

away to the treacherous, hired scoundrel whom I had been hunting down

with the dogged ferocity of a bloodhound. On principle, of course, I

_was_ all wrong, and I knew it; but still I went on.

I told him the strange story of the past few weeks from beginning to

end. I commenced with the part which concerned Farnham and Carson

Wildred alone. I did not pass over that which had to do with Karine, my

hopeless and unrequited love for her, my passionate anxiety to serve her

at all costs; and I ended by declaring my certainty that Carson Wildred

and Willis Collins were one and the same man.

"He is doubly a murderer," I said. "And yet, unless you and I together

can keep him from it, he will be your sister's husband."

"I'll kill him first!" exclaimed my companion.

"I think the trick can be done without resorting to such extreme

measures as that," I returned, "especially if you are willing to come

over from his camp to mine."

He looked at me sharply for a moment without answering, then he said:

"You seem pretty quick, I've noticed, in what you've just been telling

me at putting two and two together. Well, you say you were at the Santa

Anna Hotel the night the murder was committed ten years ago. You knew

there were two men mixed up in it. You remembered one of them; would you

remember the other?"

"He was a mere boy," I said, "and it's a long time ago. He must have

changed almost beyond recognition."

"He's just twenty-nine at present; I've good reason to know, as I'm he."

It was my turn to be astonished, but it was not policy to show it.

Therefore I merely said, "Oh, indeed!"

"You see," he went on dully, "that's where Wildred has had his pull over

me since he ran across me, by a piece of devil's own luck, in Canada

five years ago. As you say, I have changed; but his eyes are like

gimlets, they'd pierce a stone wall. It's quite true, as you suspected,

that he and Collins are one. I knew him by a queer scar on his hand,

shaped like a star--perhaps you've observed it? But he didn't mind. He

seemed even to find a sort of pleasure in telling me how he had been to

a clever fellow in Paris, and got himself made over into another man, so

that he might the more easily turn his back upon various little episodes

of the past. I couldn't have proved it if I'd wanted to, he was so

different, and had worked up such a new record for himself to travel on.

He knew that, and he knew, too, that I was in his power."

"I don't exactly see how _that_ came about," I objected.

"Don't you? You're not so quick as usual, then. I'd been accused of the

murder at the Santa Anna Hotel. I hooked it, and got over to Mexico, so

to Spain and France. I'd always been a black sheep, you know, but that

was the first really serious trouble I'd got into. However, as I said,

five years later, when Wildred and I met, I was in Canada; I'd turned

actor (I'd always a little talent that way), and was doing pretty well.

He pointed out to me--and I wasn't very long in seeing his point--that I

was not so much changed but what I should easily be recognised by those

who had known me during those wild days when I'd been under his thumb in

San Francisco, and the authorities there would still be very glad to

hear of me. He didn't happen to want anything of me just then, but he

allowed me to understand that it was to my interest to keep sweet with

him. And from that day to this he's had his eye on me."

"But it was _he_ who was accused of that murder, not you," I said.

"_What!_"

The man seemed either not to believe or understand me.

I repeated the statement, and then, when he stammered his astonishment,

his ignorance of all that had taken place in San Francisco after his

escape (at which we had all tacitly connived at the time), I went on to

explain the true circumstances of the case. Carson Wildred had deceived

him into the belief that he alone had been suspected--that if he were

caught he would be promptly hanged.

"He has told the same story to your sister, I would swear!" I exclaimed,

hotly. "It is for this reason that she has been persuaded into promising

to marry him. Believing that he knows your whereabouts, and holds it in

his power at any moment to have you punished as a murderer--believing,

too, no doubt, that you did commit the murder, she has been ready to

save your life by the sacrifice of all that has made hers dear."

"Curse him! I'd take my oath you're right!" he asseverated. "He's sly

enough and vile enough for anything."

"Did you ever see Harvey Farnham?" I questioned.

"Yes, years ago I knew him well, and liked him immensely--as he did me,

I think. It was in Tuolumne County, California, where he had a gold

mine--the Miss Cunningham. It was I who named that, oddly enough it may

seem to you, after my sister, of course. He wasn't aware of that, but

thought it was just a whim of mine, that probably I'd admired some girl

called 'Miss Cunningham,' and wanted to pay her a compliment. You see,

no one knew me by my right name even then.

"It was before that hateful time when I got in with Collins, or Wildred,

whichever you like to call him, and not long after I'd run away from

home and England under the assumed name of Hartley--it was my mother's

maiden name. I was only seventeen or eighteen, but I was pretty sharp

for my years, I'm afraid, for I'd been among a queer lot already, and

one night I would have got into a row with some older man over cards, a

row that might have ended badly if it hadn't been for Mr. Farnham, who

had dropped into the place to look on, and who stood by me for all he

was worth.

"It seemed he noticed me the moment he entered the room, thinking that I

looked enough like him to be his own son. Afterward he took me up,

making a lot of me, wanting to find out where I'd come from, and all

that. He thought my resemblance to him (which everyone who saw us

together invariably remarked) a wonderful joke, and used to call me his

'boy,' and 'sonny,' getting it into his head that I was a sort of

'Mascot,' who brought luck to him in whatever he undertook. That was the

principal reason, of course, that he was so keen on having me name his

mine for him. I think if I had sowed all my wild oats, and been willing

to settle down a bit into a respectable member of society, there was a

time when he wouldn't have minded adopting me, for some old, unhappy

love affair or other had kept him out of the marriage-market, eligible

as he was, and he swore that he never meant to marry, even for the hope

of having an heir to all his money. Yes, I might have been that heir if

I hadn't been a fool, for Farnham certainly thought the world and all of

me in those days. As it was, he did me many a kindness."

"And now, by way of repaying that affection and those kindnesses," I

could not help exclaiming, with a returning touch of the old bitter

contempt, "you've undertaken to help his murderer to get off scot free.

You've been masquerading in the very clothes the poor fellow wore,

you've been using his luggage, trading on the likeness to him which once

won for you his regard, heightening it in every way by artificial means,

so that not only shall Carson Wildred, or Willis Collins, escape

suspicion, but that he may enrich himself on the dead man's millions.

You even set an hotel on fire to finish the whole fiendish plot with a

fine dramatic effect!"

The poor wretch, who had made such a wreck of his young life, was white

as death, and shaking like an aspen. I could see the beads of sweat

oozing out on his pale forehead. "For God's sake," he implored, "don't

say that to me; I can't bear it! Until you told me just now I swear to

you by all I hold sacred--by my sister's love, which I so little

deserve--that I never dreamed of Harvey Farnham's being dead. You may

believe me or not, as you like, but you're _her_ friend, so I

should be glad that you should believe. And, at least, you owe it to me

in common justice to hear what I've got to say.

"Collins always managed to keep his eye on me, and knew my whereabouts

and my doings, making me feel that at any moment he could come down on

me if he chose. I daresay he had other men in his power like that, men

whom he thought he might wish to make his tools at one time or other. I

didn't often hear from him, though I knew myself shadowed, and knew

also, only too well, whom I had to thank for it. You can't guess the

horror of the feeling, or how it got on my nerves. I fancied it would

drive me to madness or suicide one day, always knowing I was watched,

that I could never, try as I would, escape that Eye, which was really

Willis Collins's, spying me out across the ocean.

"Well, a cablegram came from him commanding rather than asking me to go

to England, saying that it would be much to my advantage to do so, and

that my fare and all expenses would at once be sent me in advance. There

was just a hint that I had better not refuse, which I understood as well

as if it had been a definite threat; and, anyhow, there was a certain

attractiveness in the idea of going home--I hadn't seen Karine or

England for so long.

"I didn't mean to let my sister know of my presence--I would have spared

her that--but I fancied myself standing among the crowd in the Park,

watching her drive by, or something of that sort. Even a glimpse of her

face would have been sweet.

"But when I arrived one of the first things Wildred did was to tell me

that he knew the Tressidys, with whom Karine was living, that he had

heard my sister often speak of me, and that he would secretly arrange a

meeting between us. I couldn't resist the temptation of having a few

words with her when it was offered for the asking, and I saw her at the

House by the Lock. An excuse was made to bring her and Lady Tressidy

there--something about a portrait of Karine that was in a queer room

called the 'studio'--and while Wildred was showing Lady Tressidy over

the house I saw my sister, and had a talk with her. She felt grateful to

Wildred for bringing it about, and fool that I was, I didn't suspect the

deep game he meant to play with her, using me as the decoy. I thought he

had merely been willing to take the trouble that he might get the more

work out of me when he wanted it, though what the work was for which he

had brought me to England I didn't yet know.

"After that first meeting with Karine I had given Wildred my word never

to try and see her again; now I understand why. He wished to revive all

the old love she had felt by the sight of me, awaken her sympathy for my

troubles, when she should learn his version of them from his lips, and

then keep me from her, lest I should hear that he had asked her to be

his wife, threatening to betray me if she did not accept, and so, in

spite of my cowardice (for I am a moral coward), setting me against him,

to be his slave and tool no more.

"When I had been in England about three or four weeks, keeping out of

the way of anyone who might possibly remember me, Wildred suggested the

scheme of my travelling back to America, impersonating Farnham, and

finally finishing the plot, as I did finish it to-night. He admitted

that it was for this he had sent for me, but swore Farnham himself was

in the thing as deep as he; that it meant a fortune to them both, which

they were to share, and which could be had in no other way. He explained

that Farnham had had bad luck in speculations, was bankrupt, hadn't the

pluck to begin over again on the lowest rounds of the ladder, nor to

undertake carrying out this plan himself. He would funk the fire

business, Wildred said, and might, instead of escaping, actually be

burned to death. The object to be gained, of course, I was made to

believe, was getting the life assurance. Farnham was supposed to have

several policies, each one for an enormous sum; he had left everything

of which he should die possessed, life assurance and all the rest, to

Wildred, who would actually go halves with Farnham when the money should

be secured.

"I have nothing of my own, you know, except what I can make by my wits,

for my father disinherited me, and I've had just a little too much pride

ever to take anything from Karine. Wildred offered me ten thousand

pounds to work this business for him; half to be paid down, half when

the thing had been successfully carried through to the close.

"Of course, I had sense enough to know it was a villainous fraud, but

I've never been very scrupulous, and it was easy to persuade myself that

I owed Harvey Farnham a good turn for what he did for me in the past.

Besides, I wanted the money, and there was five thousand in notes

(Wildred was too sly to give a cheque) on the table for me to take or

leave. I didn't see that I was going to do much harm to anybody except

the insurance companies, who are rich enough to lose, as Farnham hadn't

a relative in the world; but before heaven, if I'd dreamed of the truth,

I'd have let Wildred do his worst before I'd have gone in with him.

"As for the Santa Anna, I knew that every board of the hotel was

assured--the landlord would lose nothing, and after I'd kindled the fire

I knocked like mad on your door. I fancy, though you didn't know it, it

must have been that which first began to rouse you. I didn't give myself

much time to get out, after taking off the disguise (which I flatter

myself I did pretty well), but I just managed it. I can tell you I was

desperate when I walked in here and found you; but now I was never so

thankful for anything in the course of my life."

"The present question is, then," I said, "whether you will go straight

to England with me and tell all you know about Carson Wildred? If we

stopped on this side, to prove things step by step as we went, we should

labour under two disadvantages. It would mean indefinite delay, and you

would get into trouble about that business at the hotel to-night. To

sail at once for England, and let matters here take care of themselves

for the present, is our only plan, I think. What do you say?"

"You are sure that Wildred can't swear my life away?"

"As sure as I am that we are both alive at this moment."

"Then I'm in your hands. I'll save my sister, and I'll get even with

Wildred for making a tool and a dupe of me."

"By the time we have landed on the other side," I answered, "there'll

still be a clear fortnight to do the first, and I think we may

accomplish the latter transaction simultaneously."

The House by the Lock · 第 26 / 30 章