by Fergus Hume
CHAPTER XLIV.
THE TRUTH.
HILLISTON came and went in the space of a few minutes. None of thosepresent made any attempt to stay his exit, but as the door closed afterhim they looked at one another in silence. Thinking of Hilliston's lastspeech, Denis was the first to speak.
"What does that mean, sir?" he asked his master, with an air of helplessbewilderment.
"I think it can only mean one thing, Denis," replied Larcher, rousinghimself. "Mr. Hilliston has at length awakened to the fact of hisdastardly treatment of your sister, and is about to make reparation forthe past. He intends to marry her."
"But his wife only died a few days ago, master."
"I know that. But Mrs. Bezel will also die shortly, and if Hillistondesires to atone for the past he has no time to lose. He can marry herat once, but he will again be a widower within the month."
Denis lifted a pair of shaking hands, and slowly left the room, followedby the sympathetic looks of the others. He did not even pause to learnthe contents of the sealed envelope left by Mr. Hilliston. Great as washis curiosity to learn all that had taken place on that fatal night, hislove and grief for his sister were greater still. Bowed and gray andolder-looking than ever, he departed; but in his heart there was onecomfortable thought--Mona would die an honest woman, if Mr. Hillistonwas to be believed.
When the three found themselves alone, Captain Larcher picked up thesealed letter with some reluctance.
"Strange," he said, balancing it in his hand. "For years I have beeneager to know the truth. Now that I have only to open this envelope tolearn it, I feel half afraid."
"Nevertheless, it will be as well to lose no time in making ourselvesacquainted with the contents," said Tait eagerly, for he was in a feverof impatience to know all. "It may be a confession by Hilliston."
"I think not. It is directed to me in the handwriting of Mrs.Hilliston."
"To Ferdinand Paynton?"
"No. To Captain Larcher."
"H'm!" said Tait, with a start. "How did Mrs. Hilliston know you wereCaptain Larcher? Did she see you at Thorston?"
"No. But her husband doubtless informed her of my real name. However, wewill learn all from this," said Larcher, breaking the seal. "I believethis is a confession by Mrs. Hilliston."
"But what can she have to confess?" cried Claude, as his father smoothedout a closely written letter. "She can know nothing of the tragedy."
"You forget," said Tait, with a sudden recollection, "Louisa Sinclair;she was at Horriston, and, according to Mona Bantry, was in the gardenof The Laurels on that night. I would not be surprised if she saw thecommittal of the crime."
"What! Do you think she is about to betray her husband?"
"Oh," said Tait significantly, "we are by no means sure of Hilliston'sguilt!"
Larcher found that the writing was too small for him to readcomfortably, so handed the letter to Claude, with a request that heshould read it out aloud. Excusing himself on the plea of theillegibility of the writing, Claude passed it to Tait, who accepted theoffice with avidity. The letter was without date or direction, and beganin an abrupt manner, highly suggestive of the agitation under which ithad been written. Tait mentally noted these points, and began.
* * * * *
"This confession is to be read after my death by Captain George Larcher,and, if he sees fit, he has my free permission to make it public. StillI trust out of regret for the memory of an unhappy woman that he willnot do so save in the arising of two contingencies. First, should he bestill alive, and accused of murdering Mr. Jeringham. Second, should mydear husband be accused of the crime. In the event of the occurrence ofeither of these contingencies, I authorize him to make these pagespublic.
"To explain myself I must go back twenty-six years, when I was residingat Horriston. You, Captain Larcher, will remember me well as LouisaSinclair, for at that time I saw a great deal of yourself and your wife.I saw too much of her, for my eyes were sharp, and, but for a naturalreluctance to disturb your domestic peace, I could have enlightened youas to her conduct. She was never worthy of a good man like you. She wasas bad as I afterward became, and that is saying a great deal, as youwill see by reading on.
"I loved Francis Hilliston, your intimate friend. Belinda Pike loved himalso, but there was no need for either of us to be jealous of the other,for Mr. Hilliston loved a third person; none other than your wife. Nodoubt you will be angry when you read this, but your anger cannot alterfacts. Yes, your dearest friend loved your wife. Let him deny that if hecan."
At this point there was a marginal note by Hilliston: "I do deny it, andbut that I am not in a position to do so I would not let GeorgeLarcher's eyes rest on this confession. My poor wife was insanelyjealous of Mrs. Larcher, but I swear that she had no grounds to be so. Iadmired Mrs. Larcher as a friend, nothing more, and I loved Mona Bantry.She is the only woman who has ever attracted me, and, notwithstanding mymarriage, now dissolved by death, she attracts me still."
This note was hastily scribbled in pencil, and after Tait had read it,without interruption from Captain Larcher, he continued the confession:
"I admit that I was jealous of his attentions to your wife," continuedMrs. Hilliston, "for though I did all in my power I could not win him tomy side. Regarding the efforts of Belinda Pike, I say nothing. She triedto gain his love, and she failed. I was more successful in the end, butnot till the lapse of many years. Here I may say that I have gypsy bloodin my veins, which at times renders me insanely jealous, and in such astate I am capable of all things. A recollection of this may enlightenyou as to my acting as I did in the garden of The Laurels.
"I knew that your wife loved Jeringham, and could have told you of it. Iam sorry I did not now, as she would have been disgraced, and thenFrancis might have turned to me for consolation. But I held my peace,and paid the cost of doing so. I am doing so now; you also; for if youhad been forewarned you would never have had to conceal yourself under afeigned name on account of Jeringham's death.
"At the fancy dress ball held at the Town Hall, matters came to aclimax. My gypsy blood made me mad on that night, owing to the way inwhich I was neglected by Francis Hilliston. With some difficulty Ilearned that your wife was to be dressed as Mary, Queen of Scots, and,with a view to making myself attractive in Hilliston's eyes, I chose thesame dress. With the assistance of the dressmaker who worked for usboth, I obtained a dress similar in all respects to that of Mrs.Larcher, hoping that by doing so he would speak to me under theimpression that I was your wife. My stratagem was successful. I wasmasked and dressed as she was; he spoke to me, thinking I was she, and Ilearned then how he loved her. At that moment I could have killed her. Icould have killed him."
Here there was another note in Hilliston's handwriting: "Again I saythat the poor creature was mistaken. I did speak to her under theimpression that she was Mrs. Larcher, but I said nothing that she couldconstrue into a declaration of love. Her jealousy rendered her mad, andshe distorted the idle words I spoke. She took them up in the wrongsense."
"My suspicions were confirmed later on," continued the confession, "forI overheard them talking together; yes, Francis Hilliston and your wifewere in a corner together, talking of love. I listened. It was mean todo so; but then, I was in love and would have stooped to any degradationto have rescued him from her clutches. They talked about a dagger whichhe had given her to complete her dress. Aha! he did not think tocomplete my costume with such a gift. Mrs. Larcher took the dagger outof its sheath and together they examined it. She blamed him for puttingan inscription on it, saying it would make her husband jealous. Francislaughed, and said that you would never suspect him. Then Mrs. Larcherslipped the dagger back in the sheath, as she thought; but in reality itslipped down among the folds of her dress, and when she arose to go itfell on the ground. They departed, and I picked up the dagger.
"At once I looked at the inscription, and there it was on the goldhandle-
-'To J. L., from F. H.' I was so enraged that I could have brokenthe dagger. I tried to, but it was too strong for me. Therefore I thrustit into my waistband and went in search of Hilliston to return it tohim, and reproach him for giving it to Mrs. Larcher. I saw him, wrappedin his cloak, go out with Mrs. Larcher. He was seeing her home, and in afrenzy of jealous rage I resolved to follow."
Margin note by Hilliston: "It was not I who went home with Mrs. Larcher,but Jeringham. I was dressed that evening as a Venetian senator, andwore a long black cloak. This Jeringham borrowed from me to conceal hisfancy dress when he left the Town Hall. My wife thought it was me, butshe was mistaken. I went home with George Larcher, as he knows."
The confession continues: "They left in Mrs. Larcher's carriage, and I,hastily wrapping a cloak round me, followed in a fly. When I got to TheLaurels they were talking together at the door, and the carriage haddriven round to the stables. I sat back in my fly, for the driver didnot know who I was, and watched. I saw Mrs. Larcher kiss Hilliston andrun inside. Then I went out of my mind--I was possessed by a devil. Hecame down the path and turned midway to look back at the house. I had myhand on the dagger--it tempted me, and I sprang out on him. He turnedsharply round, and had I not been blinded with rage I would have thenrecognized him. But I hardly knew what I was doing, and, before he couldutter a word, I buried the dagger in his heart, when he fell with achoking cry. I knelt down beside him, and withdrew the dagger. Then Iheard a sound, dropped the weapon, and fled.
"Some little distance off I ran into the arms of Francis Hilliston. Ishrieked as though I had seen a ghost, and told him I had killed aman--that I had intended to kill him. He explained the mistake of thecloak, and said I must have murdered Jeringham. Then he saved my life.No one had seen me come to The Laurels, no one had seen me in thegarden; so Francis took me back to Horriston, and I returned to the ballwithout anyone having suspected my absence.
"The next day the news of the disappearance of Jeringham was all overthe town; afterward the body was discovered down the river, and mistakenfor that of Mr. Larcher. Francis advised me for my own sake to hold mytongue. I did so, and shortly afterward I went on a visit to a sister ofmine in America. Francis refused to marry me on account of my crime. InAmerica I married Derrick, the millionaire; he died, and I returned toLondon. I found Francis greatly in want of money, and as I still lovedhim, I married him. No one but us two knew who really killed Jeringham,but for your sake, Captain Larcher, I acknowledge my guilt lest youshould be found out and accused of the crime. I could say much more, butthis is enough. When you read this I will be dead, and my last words Iswear are true. I and none other killed Mark Jeringham in mistake forFrancis Hilliston."
Note by Hilliston: "It will be seen that my wife was actuated allthrough by jealousy, but I swear she had no reason. I loved Mona, notMrs. Larcher, nor her. I saved her life because she committed the crimefor my sake; I married her because I was on the verge of pecuniary ruin.I have nothing more to add. You can blame me if you like, but I considerI have acted all through as I was forced by circumstances."