somysteriously. Yet you say you have known him all these years."
"Whichelo joined his brother in Mexico City, and remained there for manyyears," he replied. "Paulton and Henderson continued their clever workof money-making, though mostly in Rome, and in Barcelona, where they hada number of accomplices. And I was bled--blackmailed by Paulton to theextent of nearly all my fortune--month after month, year after year. Mywife, as you know, has her own fortune, and there were reasons why hecould not touch that without incriminating himself, so for years I havehad to live almost entirely on her means. Some years ago, Paulton andHenderson were both arrested in Paris on a charge of forgery of Russianbank-notes. They were tried, and sentenced to ten years' penalservitude. At the end of seven years, they were released. Paultonreturned to England, and began once more to blackmail me. Worse, he hadseen Vera, and at once told me he should marry her. If I refused myconsent he would, he declared--"
The poor fellow who had once bought a knighthood, stopped, gasping forbreath. I laid my hand upon his arm, as I thought to soothe him, but hepushed it off quite roughly.
"Some months ago he sent me an ultimatum. If I still refused to let mygirl marry him, he--would call before the last day of--March--and--"
"Yes? Yes?" I exclaimed, unable now to restrain my curiosity.
"He declared he would disclose all he knew, take Vera from me by a planthat he explained, and that I saw I could not frustrate, and encompassthe death of any persons to whom he thought I might have revealed thesecret concerning him. Also he would tell the police the truth aboutthe murder of his half-brother. He believed that you and I being suchintimate friends, I had told you about him. Also he believed, for somereason, that my butler, James, knew something. He said he would killyou both. One of his accomplices was Judith, whom, a year ago, Gwenunsuspectingly engaged as maid. She, it seems, had kept Paulton postedin all that was happening in Houghton. I was driven to my wits' ends--entirely desperate--though--you--you never suspected it."
"But the photograph," I exclaimed, as I noticed a curious changesuddenly come over him, "that photograph of Paulton--why was it atHoughton?"
"We always kept it there, that Vera might never fail to identifyPaulton, should she ever meet him. When we told Vera, in herseventeenth year, all that had happened years ago, we showed her thatportrait for the first time. It was my idea to set it in themorning-room recently, so that my poor girl might never forget what theman looked like who had sworn to take her from me."
"Could you not have removed the--that hidden body?" I exclaimed,anxious to get from him as many facts as possible, in the short time hehad still to live. "What proof could he then have had--?"
"Don't--ah! don't!" he interrupted. "There were reasons--of--of course,had it been possible, I--a water-pipe had burst in my house--it hadcaused the body to stain the ceiling--and--also there were--" and histhin, bony fingers clutched at the air in frantic gesture.
His sentences were now disjointed, their meaning could not be followed.Now he was straining terribly his mouth gaped, his dry throat emitted astrange, rasping sound. I seized his wasted wrist. His pulse wasalmost still. Now his face was growing ashen, his eyes were staringinto space--their intelligence was fading.
The nurse entered, and glanced at me significantly.
I sprang to my feet, and ran to the door.
"Vera! Vera! Lady Thorold!" I called. "Come--ah! come quickly, he isdying... _dying_!"
They rushed in from the corridor, where they had been awaiting me. Inan access of despair, Lady Thorold threw herself upon her knees besidethe bed, moaning aloud in a grief terrible to witness. My love stoodbeside her, gazing down upon her father--dazed--motionless. Grief hadparalysed her senses.
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Suddenly, his thin, white lips moved, but no words were audible.Quickly Vera bent over him. The shrunken lips moved again. He wasmurmuring. For an instant, his filmy eyes showed a gleam ofintelligence once again.
"Dick--be good--to her--you--you will be good--_to her_!"
The voice was now, so faint, that I could barely catch his words. Hisdull gaze rested upon my eyes. I stooped down. My hand was upon his.Ah! How cold he was!
"Always," I said aloud, with an effort, a great lump rising in mythroat. "I promise that--I promise I will do all possible to make Verahappy--always--_always_!"
By the expression, that for an instant came into his dull, filmy eyes, Isaw that he had heard and understood. Slowly the eyelids closed. Hewas turning paler still. The light died from his face.
A few seconds later his countenance was ashen, and I knew that he hadbreathed his last.
Speechless, motionless, I still stood there.
My hand was still upon his, as it lay upon the coverlet, slowlystiffening. The only sound audible was the bitter wailing of hiswidow--and of Vera. I made no attempt to comfort them. Better, I knew,let the passion of their sorrow read! its flood-tide, and allow the furyof their misery to exhaust itself. Words of sympathy, at such a time,would only be a mockery.
Later, I would do all possible to help them to recover from the awfulblow which had so suddenly fallen upon them.
CHAPTER THIRTY.
CONTAINS THE END.
For a quarter of an hour we remained there in the presence of the dead.
The grey light in the side-ward faded into darkness. The electric lighthad not been switched on. The sobs and lamentations of Lady Thorold andher daughter, locked in each other's arms, began slowly to subside.
Gradually my thoughts drifted to the past, and all that had happened inthose years I had known Thorold so intimately, and had loved him almostas a father. One thought afforded me most intense happiness. At lastthe time had come when I should be able to prove to Vera the intenselove I bore her.
"Be good to her--you will be good to her--Dick--always," had been herfather's dying request. Ah, how well I would obey my dear friend's lastrequest! Never again should unhappiness of any kind cross his child'spath, if I could prevent it. I would show her how, in my opinion, ahusband should treat a wife.
My thoughts drifted to Houghton. What had happened there, I wondered.What was happening now?
Ah! What was happening! Had I known what was happening in thosemoments I should not, perhaps, have felt as restful as I did.
Next day the newspapers were full of it.
The "Siege," as they had termed it, had in truth become a real anddesperate siege. All attempts to dislodge Paulton, Henderson, and thewoman with them, had proved of no avail. Several policemen had sincebeen severely wounded. This was due to the fact that the police, underthe impression that the besieged men were armed only with shot-guns, hadapproached, as they believed with impunity, rather close to the house.All at once, a murderous fusillade had been opened upon them from ashuttered window--only by chance, indeed, had the result not provedagain fatal. The wounds the police had received had been dreadful, farworse than bullet wounds, for the assailants had, by cutting the papercases of the shot-cartridges round the middle with a knife, caused thecharge of shot to travel like a bullet, which burst open when it struck.
"It was late in the afternoon," ran one newspaper account of theconclusion of the siege, "when a big body of police arrived from Oakham,armed with revolvers and rifles, to fire upon the besieged men, and in afew minutes the rattle of musketry rang out, the reports echoing andreverberating in the woods around Houghton Park, and among the distanthills. In return, came shots in quick succession, fired now from onewindow, then from another. The men hidden in the house seemed to haveplenty of ammunition."
The reporter then indulged in half a column of descriptive writing.After that, he came again to the point--
"Finally, finding that all efforts to dislodge the besieged provedfutile, and fearing they might, in their mad fury of revenge, set thehouse alight, the order was given to renew the attack. This was at oncedone. The combined fire played havoc upon th
e house for doors, windows,and shutters were quickly riddled, and even some of the chimney-potswere shattered. At last the return fire ceased entirely, and the orderwas given to rush the house. This was done, and only just in time. Inone of the lower rooms straw, paper, wood shavings and other inflammablematerial had been piled up, and two paraffin-cans lay upon the floor,both being empty. Evidently it had been the intention of the besiegedmen to pour paraffin over the inflammable material, but they had foundonly empty cans. The material had been set on fire, but, not being wellalight, was soon extinguished. At once a search was made for thebesieged men--a risky undertaking, seeing that they might still beprovided with ammunition and lying in concealment to open fire on thebesieging party.
"It was in a shuttered room on the first floor that the bodies were atlast found. The shutters had been riddled with rifle bullets. The
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