*CHAPTER XXIX.*
*THE TIGHTENED CORD.*
London had seldom had a more thrilling hour over the morning paper. Thesensational section of the press had lost nothing in the making of whatwas called the orchid mystery; some of them had even obtained more thanan inkling of the true history of the Cardinal Moth, and many were theingenious theories propounded as to the mysterious deaths at Streathamand in Frobisher's conservatory.
And here was another victim in the person of Sir Clement himself. Asthe thousands of business men poured into London by trains, 'buses andtrams, nothing else was talked about. It became known presently thatthere would be an inquest at ten o'clock, and some time before the hourtraffic opposite Frobisher's house was practically stopped. But peoplewho had gathered there hoping to get in were disappointed. Doubtlessthe inquest would be adjourned to some more suitable place, but thepublic were rigidly excluded from a private house.
Nevertheless the conservatory was pretty well full at the time theinquest commenced. The pressmen were quite a large body in themselves,to say nothing of the jury and the police and a sprinkling of doctors.Both Sir James Brownsmith and Harold Denvers had arrived early.
Angela came down to meet Denvers, looking white and subdued by contrastwith her black dress.
"Lady Frobisher is well, I hope?" he asked.
"My aunt is satisfactory," Angela replied. "She slept fairly well, andshe is getting over the shock. Of course it is absurd to say that she isoverwhelmed with sorrow; it would be mere hypocrisy to say so. Nobodyknows what a life she has had."
"Why did she marry him?" Harold asked.
"Why, indeed? She was not happy at home, and Sir Clement had anextraordinary fascination when he cared to exercise it. It was amiserable business altogether. Harold, is there ever going to be asolution of this terrible mystery? It gets on my nerves."
"The whole thing is going to be solved within the next hour," Haroldreplied. "There is nothing very terrible to hear, so that you can bepresent if you choose. We shan't want Lady Frobisher."
In the big conservatory the proceedings had already commenced. TheCoroner had addressed the rather frightened-looking jury, and then hadwaited for Inspector Townsend to call the witnesses. Hafid draggedhimself into the box and was sworn on a Koran. He had very little tosay except that he had heard a cry and found the body of his unfortunatemaster as he had found the body of Mr. Manfred. Beyond that he knewnothing. For the way he looked around him he might have been thecriminal himself.
"Take it and burn it, and destroy it," he said. "Take it and burn it,and destroy it."
"And what do you mean by that remark?" the Coroner asked sharply.
"We can explain that presently, sir," Sir James Brownsmith said,suddenly breaking off the whispered conversation with Townsend. "Thepoor fellow is half beside himself with terror. I know I am quiteirregular, sir, but this is an extraordinary case. If I may make asuggestion----"
"Would it not be better to call the next witness?" the Coroner asked."Inspector Townsend tells me he has a full solution of this strangeaffair."
There was a visible flutter among the pressmen present. Without furtherado Harold Denvers was called. From his place he could see Angela'sblack figure in the doorway. The same barrister who had represented theCrown at the inquiry into the Streatham affair faced Harold with asmile. It was quite evident that he knew the whole history.
"You were present here last night when Sir Clement's body was found?" heasked.
"Yes, sir. I had called to see Sir Clement on important business. Icalled here to desire the return of the Crimson Moth you see close aboveyou."
All eyes were turned upwards to where the scarlet crowd of blossomshovered. The stranded ropes sagged and bagged now so that some of theblooms were almost in reach. A little later there was a hiss of steam,and the cords tightened to the moisture as if some human hand had raisedthe beautiful garlands. As to the loveliness of the Cardinal Moth therewas only one opinion.
"So that is the strange bloom," Counsel said. "Do orchids of that classrequire constant moisture?"
"Some of them do," Harold explained. "You see the Cardinal Moth cameoriginally from a hot swamp, probably in Borneo or on the West Coast ofAfrica. You see that is on a very coarsely-woven Manilla rope."
"Are we not wandering from the point?" the Coroner suggested.
"On the contrary, sir, we are sticking very closely to it," thebarrister retorted. "Now tell me, is not this same Cardinal Mothsupposed to be endowed with magic powers?"
"That is the idea. Perhaps I had better say once more what I havealready stated elsewhere. For generations the Cardinal Moth guarded orwas supposed to guard the inner temple of Ghan in Koordstan. The formand beauty of the Moth travelled until it was known to most collectors.Two or three people made up their minds to steal it; it matters littlewho they were. They did steal it and divided it into three portions.Two of these portions were lost, and the third came into my hands. Theplant above your head is the one that was stolen from the greenhouse atStreatham, where I put it for safe custody."
"Have you any idea who stole it?"
"Yes, it was taken away by Paul Lopez after the death of Count Lefroy'srepresentative, who had nearly stolen a march on Lopez."
"But Lopez never murdered that man."
"You think somebody else did?"
"Indeed, I don't. That man was not murdered at all, neither wasManfred, or Sir Clement Frobisher."
A murmur of astonishment followed this speech. It seemed hard tobelieve, but Harold spoke quietly, though in tones absolutely emphatic.
"Perhaps I had better explain," he went on. "I told you that the Mothused to guard the inner temple at Ghan. It was the punishment of highpolitical criminals that they should go into the inner temple and pluckfrom the trail a single blossom. They went in, but they never came outalive. When the gates were thrown back they lay dead with strange marksabout their throats or their breast bones broken. It was a terrible andawesome punishment, and one that gave the priests immense power. Nobodyknew how death came, nobody was meant to know, but we shall all in theroom know in a few minutes. It was the work of the Moth."
Again the murmur of astonishment arose. Harold signed to the policemento open the window; As a dry air came in the long strands of the Manillarope stretched as the moisture warmed out of it, a climber of the Mothdangled over the head of an inspector who pushed it aside, as if it hadbeen poison. Harold produced something that looked like an oblong sackfilled with firewood. He proceeded to tangle it in the loops and foldsof the rope.
"We will suppose that is a man," he said, "a man who has climbed up tothe roof to steal the Moth which is all tangled up. He puts his armthrough one loop and his head through another, thinking no evil, whensuddenly the steam-hose is turned on. Now watch."
Harold crossed the room and touched the steam-tap. As the moisturestruck the very coarse Manilla rope it suddenly tightened with themoisture till it hummed again. The same effect was to be seen with aclothes-line after a shower of rain. But the almost diaphanouscharacter of the rope and the heavy discharge of moisture brought thestrands up so tight that they seemed to hum in the air.
"There!" Harold cried, "there is the mystery--there is the secret of thepriests. The man climbs until he is in a maze of loose rope; the steamis discharged and he is strangled--the life pressed out of him by thosecruel cords; one cry and all is over. Listen."
As the rope drew up the wood within the sack was heard to crack as if avice had a grip on it. Gradually at the same time the whole mass liftedhigher and higher. Presently as the air dried the loops again slackenedand the sack came to the ground. Nobody said anything for a long time.But practically the proceedings were over; there was very little to sayor do.
The gentlemen of the pencil began to file out. After all, theextraordinary tragedy that had thrilled London as it had not beenthrilled since the days of Jack the Ri
pper had resolved itself into amere accident. One or two of the more fanciful element stayed, for theycould see the making of a fine story here. After all, there was never amurder or a set of murders planned like this before.
"The explanation is quite satisfactory," the Coroner said. "If youpropose to go any further--"
Inspector Townsend shook his head. There was no occasion to rake up anymud. Sir Clement was dead, and the other two men had lost their livesin attempted robbery. But that the trap had been deliberately laid forManfred, and that Sir Clement was morally guilty of murder, theInspector did not doubt. Then the proceedings collapsed almost beforethey had begun, and the usual prosaic verdict was returned.
"I'm glad it was so simple," Angela said when everybody had gone. "Buthow Sir Clement----"
"He was going to take the Moth away," Harold hastened to explain, "sothat I should not recover possession of it. He thought the steam-cockwas out of order, and it wasn't. That is the bald truth. That plantbelongs to me, and I have no doubt that Lady Frobisher will let me takeit away. Ask her on the first favourable opportunity. It's no time totalk of business, but the sooner I can hand that accursed thing over tothe Shan, the sooner I shall have those concessions. And now, is thereanything I can do for you, sweetheart?"
It was late before Harold saw the Shan. He had been reading themorning's proceedings in the early edition of some evening paper. Hewelcomed Harold effusively.
"Glad to see you," he said. "Upon my word, you are the only honest andstraightforward one of the lot. By the way, if you don't want theMoth----"
"I came here to offer it you," Harold said, "but after the way the trickhas been exposed----"
"Bless you, that will not make any difference in Koordstan. Nobodyreads papers there, and the priests will be pretty sure to keep theirmouths shut. Besides, I shall have them on my side now that I know thewhole game. Now sit down and we'll settle the business of thoseconcessions."
* * * * *
It was a month later, and the season was drawing to an end. LadyFrobisher was back in town for a few days, to make arrangements for hertrip abroad, and Angela had come along. Harold had been dining there.He was prosperous now, and pretty certain to become a rich man.
"When is Lady Frobisher going?" he asked.
"Not till August," Angela replied. "That is nearly two months. And inthe meantime----"
"In the meantime we are going to be married and have a long honeymoon,"Harold said. "Then I have to go out to Koordstan for a spell, and LadyFrobisher can come along. It is a lovely country, and it will be acomplete change for her. What do you say to that, Angela?"
Angela smiled and did not draw herself away as Harold kissed her. Sheappreciated his kindness and thought for others.
"Always unselfish," she murmured. "Harold, it shall be as you say."
Harold stooped and kissed Angela again, and then there was silencebetween them, the blissful silence of a perfect understanding.
* * * * * * * *
*SUCCESSFUL NOVELS*
BY
*FRED M. WHITE*
PUBLISHED BY
WARD, LOCK & CO., LTD.
"Mr. White is a master of the breathless pace which whirls a readeralong whether he will or not."--_Yorkshire Observer_.
THE FIVE KNOTSTHE BRAND OF SILENCETHE GOLDEN ROSETHE FOUR FINGERSTHE TURN OF THE TIDETHE WINGS OF VICTORYTHE SLAVE OF SILENCEA CRIME ON CANVASNETTAA QUEEN OF THE STAGETHE RIDDLE OF THE RAILMYSTERY OF THE RAVENSPURSTHE CARDINAL MOTHTHE KING DIAMOND
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