 Part 2, Chapter 11, of Madame Midas. This Libra box recording is in the public domain. Madame Midas by Fergus Hume. Part 2, Chapter 11, The Vision of Miss Kitty Marchhurst. Everyone knows the story of Democles, and how uncomfortably felt with the sword suspended by a hair over his head. No one could enjoy their dinner under such circumstances, and it is much to be thankful for that hosts of the present day do not indulge in these practical jokes. But though history does not repeat itself exactly regarding the suspended sword, yet there are cases when a sense of impending misfortune has the same effect on the spirits. This was the case of Madame Midas. She was not by any means of a nervous temperature, yet ever since the disappearance of her husband she was a prey to a secret dread, which reacting on her nerves rendered her miserable. Had Mr. Villiers only appeared she would have known how to deal with him, undone so promptly, but it was his absence that made her afraid. Was he dead? If so, why was his body not found? If he was not dead, why did he not reappear on the scene? Allowing for the sake of argument that he had stolen the nugget and left the colony in order to enjoy the fruits of his villainy, well, the nugget weighed about three hundred ounces, and that if he disposed of it, as he must have done, it would give him a sum of money a little over one thousand pounds. True, his possession of such a large mass of gold would awake suspicions in the mind of anyone he went to, but then there were people who were always ready to do shady things, provided they were well paid. So whomsoever he went to would levy blackmail on him on threat of informing the police and having him arrested. Therefore the most feasible thing would be that he had got about half of the value of the nugget, which would be about six hundred pounds. Say that he did so, a whole year had elapsed, and Madam Midas knew her husband well enough to know that six hundred pounds would soon slip through his fingers, so at the present time he must once more be penniless. If he was, why did he not come back to her and demand more money now she was rich? Even had he gone to a distant place, he would always have kept enough money to pay his way back to Victoria, so that he would bring money out of her. It was this unpleasant feeling of being watched that haunted her and made her uneasy. The constant strain begun to tell on her. She became ill and haggard looking, and her eyes were always glancing around in the anxious manner, common to hunted animals. She felt as though she were advancing on a masked battery, and at any moment a shot might strike her from the most unexpected quarter. She tried to laugh off the feeling and blamed herself severely for the morbid state of mind into which she was falling. But it was no use, for by day and night the sense of impending misfortune hung over her like the sword of the Muckles, ready to fall at any moment. If her husband would only appear she would settle an income on him, on condition he ceased to trouble her. But at present she was fighting in the dark with an unknown enemy. She became afraid of being left alone, and even when seated quietly with Selena would suddenly start a look apprehensively towards the door, as if she heard his footsteps. Imagination, when uncontrolled, can keep the mind on a mental rack, to which that at their inquisition was a bed of roses. Selena was grieved at this state of things, and tried to argue and comfort her mistress with the most amiable proverbs. But she was quite unable to administer to a mind diseased, and Mrs. Villiers' life became a perfect hell upon earth. Are my troubles never going to end, she said to Selena on the night of the metal-chip ball, as she paced recklessly up and down her room. This man has invitted the whole of my life, and now he is stabbing me in the dark. Let the dead past bury its dead, quoted Selena, who was arranging the room for the night. Per sure retorted Madam impatiently, walking to the French window at the end of the room, and opening it. How do you know he is dead? Come here, Selena, she went on, beckoning to the old woman, and pointing outside to the garden, bathed in moonlight. I have always a dread, lest he may be watching the house. Even now he may be concealed yonder, pointing down the garden. Selena looked out, but could see nothing. There was a smooth lawn, burnt and yellow with the heat, which stretched for about fifty feet, and ended in a low, quick-set hedge at the foot of a red brick wall, which ran down that side of the property. The top of this wall was set with broken bottles, and beyond was the street, where they could hear people passing along. The moonlight rendered all this as light as day, and as Selena pointed out to her mistress, there was no place where a man could conceal himself. But this did not satisfy Madam. She left the window half open, so that the cool night wind could blow in, and drew together the red velvet curtains which hung there. You've left the window open, remarked Selena, looking at her mistress, and if you are nervous it will not make you feel safe. Madam Midas glanced at the window. It's so hot, she said plaintively, I will get no sleep. Can't you manage to fix it up, so that I can leave it open? I'll try," answered Selena, and she undressed her mistress and put her to bed, then proceeded to fix up a kind of burglar trap. The bed was a four-poster, with heavy crimson curtains, and the top was pushed against the wall near the window. The curtains of the window and those of the bed prevented any draught blowing in, and directly in front of the window Selena set a small wood table so that anyone who tried to enter would throw it over, and thus put the sleeper on the alert. On this she put a night light, a book, in case Madam should wake up and want to read, a thing she very often did, and a glass of homemade lemonade for a night drink. Then she locked the other window and drew the curtains, and after going into Kitty's room, which opened off the larger one, and fixing up the one window there in the same way, she prepared to retire, but Madam stopped her. You must stay all night with me, Selena," she said irritably. I can't be left alone. But Miss Kitty, objected Selena, she'll expect to be waited for coming home from the ball. Well, she comes in here to go to her own room, said Madam, impatiently. You can leave the door unlocked. Well, observed Miss Frotts grimly, beginning to undress herself. For a nervous woman, you'd leave a great many windows and doors open. I'm not afraid as long as you are with me," said Madam, yawning. It's by myself I get nervous. Miss Frotts sniffed, and observed that prevention is better than cure, then went to bed, and both she and Madam were soon fast to sleep. Selena slept on the outside of the bed, and Madam, having a sense of security from being with someone, slumbered calmly, so that the night wore drowsily on, and nothing could be heard but the steady ticking of the clock and the heavy breathing of the two women. A sleepy servant admitted Kitty when she came home from the ball, and had said goodbye to Mrs. Rilla and Belforp. Then Mrs. Rilla, whose husband had gone home three hours before, drove away with Belforp, and Kitty went into Madam's room, while the sleepy servant, thankful that his vigil for the night was over, went to bed. Kitty found Madam's door ajar, and went in softly, fearful lest she might wake her. She did not know that Selena was in the room, and as she heard the steady breathing of the sleepers, she concluded that Madam was asleep and resolved to go quietly into her own room without disturbing the sleeper. So eerie the room looked, with the faint nightlight burning on the table beside the bed, and all the shadows, not marked and distinct as in a strong glare, were faintly confused. Just near the door was a long chivalral glass, and Kitty caught sight of herself in it, wane and spectral looking, in her white dress, and as she let the heavy blue cloak fall from her shoulders, a perfect shower of apple blossoms were shaken on the floor. Her hair had come undone from its sleek, smooth plaits, and now hung like a veil of gold on her shoulders. She looked closely at herself in the glass, and her face looked worn and haggard in the dim light. A pungent, awkward odor permeated the room, and the heavy velvet curtains moved with subdued rustlings as the wind stole in through the window. On a table near her was a portrait of Vandaloupe, which he had given Madam two days before, and though she could not see the face, she knew it was his. Stretching out her hand, she took the photograph from its stand, and sunk into a low chair which stood at the end of the room some distance from the bed. So noiseless was her movements that the two sleepers never awoke, and the girl sat in the chair with the portrait in her hand, dreaming of the man whom it represented. She knew his handsome face was smiling up at her out of the glimmering gloom, and clenched her hands in anger as she thought how he had treated her. She let the portrait fall on her lap, and leaning back in the chair, with all her golden hair showering down loosely over her shoulders, gave herself up to reflection. He was going to marry Madame Midas, the man who had ruined her life. He would hold another woman in his arms, and tell her all the false tales he had told her. He would look into her eyes with his own, and she would be unable to see the treachery and gill hidden in their depths. She could not stand it. False friend, false lover, he had been, but to see him married to another, no, it was too much. And yet what could she do? A woman in love believes no ill of the man she adores, and if she was to tell Madame Midas all, she would not be believed. Ah, it was useless to fight against fate. It was too strong for her, so she would have to suffer in silence, and see them happy. That story of Hans Andersons, which she had read about the little mermaid who danced, and felt that swords were wounding her feet, while the prince smiled on his bride. Yes, that was her case. She would have to stand by in silence, and see him caressing another woman, while every caress would stab her like a sword. Was there no way of stopping it? Ah, what is that? The poison. No, no. Anything but that. Madame had been kind to her, and she could not repay her trust with treachery. No, she was not weak enough for that. And yet suppose Madame died. No one could tell she had been poisoned, and then she could marry Vandaloupe. Madame was sleeping in yonder bed, and on the table there was a glass with some liquid in it. She would only have to go to her room, fetch the poison, and put it in there, then retire to bed. Madame would surely drink during the night, and then yes, there was only one way, the poison. How still the house was, not a sound but the ticking of the clock in the hall, and the rushing scamper of a rat or mouse. The dawn reddens faintly in the east, and the chill morning breeze comes up from the south, sulked with the odours of the ocean. Ah, what is that? A scream, a woman's voice, then another, and the bell rings furiously. The frightened servants collect from all parts of the house, in all shapes of dress and undress. The bell sounds from the bedroom of Mrs Villagas, and having asserted this, they all rush in. What a sight meets their eyes. Kitty Marchhurst, still in her bald dress, clinging convulsively to the chair. Madame Midas, pale but calm, ringing the bell, and on the bed, with one arm hanging over, lies Selena Sprotz, dead. The table near the bed was overturned on the floor, and the glass and the nightlamp both lie smashed to pieces on the carpet. Send for a doctor at once, cried Madame, letting go the bellrope and crossing to the window. Selena has had a fit of some sort. Startled servant goes out to stables and wake up the grooms, one of whom is soon on horseback riding for dear life to Dr Chinston. Clatter, clatter, along in the keen morning air, a few workmen on their way to work gaze in surprise at this furious rider. Luckily the doctor lives in St Kilda, and being awoke out of his sleep, dresses himself quickly, and taking the groom's horse rides back to Mrs Villagas' house. He dismounts, enters the house, then the bedroom. Kitty, pale, and wane is seated in the chair. The window curtains are drawn, and the cold glide of day pours into the room, while Madame Midas is kneeling beside the corpse, with all the servants around her. Dr Chinston lifts the arm. It falls limply down. The face is ghastly white, the eyes staring. There is a streak of foam on the tightly clenched mouth. The doctor puts his hand on the heart, not a throb. He closes the staring eyes reverently, and turns to the kneeling woman and the frightened servants. She is dead, he says briefly, and orders them to leave the room. When did this occur, Mrs Villagas? He asked, when the room had been cleared, and only himself, Madame, and Kitty, remained. I can't tell you, replied Madame Weeping. She was all right last night when we went to bed, and she stayed all night with me, because I was nervous. I slept soundly, when I was awakened by a cry, and saw Kitty standing beside the bed, and Selena in convulsions. Then she became quite still, and lay like that till you came. What is the cause? Aperplexi replied the doctor doubtfully, at least judging from the symptoms, but perhaps Miss Marchers can tell us when the attack came on. He turned to Kitty, who was shivering in the chair, and looked so pale that Madame Midas went over to her to see what was the matter. The girl, however, shrunk away with a cry, as the older woman approached, and rising to her feet, moved unsteadily towards the doctor. You say she, pointing to the body, died of apoplexy? Yes, he answered curtly. All the symptoms of apoplexy are there. You are wrong, gasped Kitty, laying a hand on his arm. It is poison. Poison echoed Madame and the doctor in surprise. Listen, said Kitty, quickly, pulling herself together by a great effort. I came home from the ball, between two and three. I entered the room to go to my own, pointing to the other door. I did not know Selena was with Madame. No, said Madame, quietly. That is true. I only asked her to stop at the last moment. I was going quietly to bed, resumed Kitty hurriedly, in order not to wake in Madame. When I saw the portrait of Monsure Vandaloupe on the table, I took it up to look at it. How could you see without a light? Asked Dr. Chinston sharply, looking at her. There was a nightlight burning, replied Kitty, pointing to the fragments on the floor, and I could only guess it was Monsure Vandaloupe's portrait. But at all events, she said quickly, I sat down in the chair over there and fell asleep. You see, doctor, she had been to a ball and was tired, interposed Madame Midas. But go on, Kitty, I want to know why you say Selena was poisoned. I don't know how long I was asleep, said Kitty, wetting her dry lips with her tongue. But I was awoke by a noise at the window there, pointing towards the window, upon which both her listeners turned towards it. And looking, I saw a hand coming out from behind the curtain with a bottle in it. It held the bottle over the glass on the table, and after pouring the contents in, them withdrew. And why did you not cry out for assistance? asked the doctor quickly. I couldn't, she replied. I was so afraid that I fainted. I recovered my senses, Selena had drunk the poison, and when I got up on my feet and went to the bed, she was in convulsions. I woke Madame, and that's all. A strange story, said Chinston musingly, where is the glass? It's broken, doctor, replied Madame Midas. In getting out of bed, I knocked the table down, and both the night lamp and glass smashed. No one could have been concealed behind the curtain of the window, said the doctor to Madame Midas. No, she replied, but the window was open all night. So if it is, as Kitty says, the man who gave the poison must have put his hand through the open window. Dr. Chinston went to the window and looked out. There were no marks of feet on the flower bed, where it was so soft that anyone standing on it would have left the foot mark behind. Strange said the doctor. It's a peculiar story, looking at Kitty Chinley. But a true one, she replied boldly, the colour coming back to her face. I say she was poisoned. By whom? asked Madame Midas, the memory of her husband coming back to her. I can't tell you, answered Kitty, I only saw the hand. At all events, said Chinston slowly, the poisoner did not know that your nurse was with you, so the poison was meant for Mrs. Phileas. For me, she echoed ghastly pale, I knew it, my husband is alive, and this is his work. End of Part 2, Chapter 11. Part 2, Chapter 12 of Madame Midas. This LibraVox recording is in the public domain. Madame Midas by Fergus Hume. Part 2, Chapter 12. A Starling Discovery. Ill News travels fast, and before noon the death of Salinas Frotts was known all over Melbourne. The ubiquitous reporter, of course, appeared on the scene, and the evening papers gave its own version of the affair, and a hint at Phile play. There was no grounds for this statement, as Dr. Chinston told Kitty and Madame Midas to say nothing about the poison, and it was generally understood that the deceased had died from apoplexy. A rumour, however, which originated none knew how, crept about among everyone that poison was the cause of death, and this being added to by some and embellished in all its little details by others. There was soon a complete story made up about the affair. At the bachelor's club it was being warmly spoken about when Vandalute came in about eight o'clock in the evening, and when he appeared he was immediately overwhelmed with inquiries. He looked cool and calm as usual, and stood smiling quietly on the excited group before him. You know Mrs. Villiers said Belfort in an assertive tone, so you must know all about the affair. I don't see that return Gaston pulling at his moustache, knowing anyone does not include a knowledge of all that goes on in the house. I assure you, beyond what there is in the papers, I am as ignorant as you are. They say this woman, sprotts or pots, or something, died from poison, said Barty Jarper, who had been round the place collecting information. Apoplexy, the doctor says, said Belfort, lighting a cigarette. She was in the same room with Mrs. Villiers, and was found dead in the morning. Miss Marchhurst was also in the room, putting Barty eagerly. Oh, indeed, said Vandalute smoothly, turning to him. Do you think she had anything to do with it? Of course not, said Rolston, who had just entered. She had no reason to kill the woman. Vandalute smiled. So logical you are, he murmured. You want a reason for everything. Naturally retorted Felix, fixing in his eyeglass. There is no effect without a cause. It couldn't have been Miss Marchhurst, said Belfort. They said that the poison was poured out of a bottle held by a hand which came through the window. It's quite true, defiantly looking at disbelieving faces round him. One of Mrs. Villiers' servants heard it in the house and told Mrs. Rillers made. From whence, said Vandalute politely, it was transmitted to you precisely. Belfort reddened slightly, and turned away as he saw the other smiling, that his relations with Mrs. Rilla were well known. The hand business is all bosh, observed Felix Rolston, authoritatively. It's in a play called The Hidden Hand. Perhaps the person who poisoned Miss Frost, got the idea from it, suggested Jarpa. Peshaw, my dear fellow, said Vandalute blankly. People don't go to melodrama for ideas. Everyone has got their own version of this story. The best thing to do is to await the result of the inquest. Is there to be an inquest, cried all. So I've heard, replied the Frenchman Cooley. Sounds as if there was something wrong, doesn't it? It's a curious poisoning case, observed Belfort. Aye, but it is improved that there is any poisoning about it, said Vandalute, looking keenly at him. You jump to conclusions. There is no smoke without fire, replied Rolston sagely. I expect we'll all be rather astonished when the inquest is held, and so the discussion closed. The inquest was appointed to take place next day, and Kelton had been asked by Madame Midas to be present on her behalf. Kilsom, a detective officer, was also present, and, cooled up like a cat in the corner, was listening to every word of the evidence. The first witness called was Madame Midas, who deposed that the deceased, Selena-Jane Sprotz, was her servant. She had gone to bed in excellent health, and next morning she had found her dead. The coroner asked a few questions relative to the case. Question. Miss Marchhurst awoke you, I believe. Answer. Yes. Question. And her room is off yours. Answer. Yes. Question. Had she to go through your room to reach her own? Answer. She had. There was no other way of getting there. Question. One of the windows of your room was open. Answer. It was. All night. Miss Kitty Marchhurst was then called, and being spawn gave her story at the hand coming through the window. This caused a great sensation in court, and Kelton looked puzzled, while Kilsip, sending a mystery, rubbed his lean hands together softly. Question. You live with Mrs Villiers, I believe. Miss Marchhurst? Answer. I do. Question. And you knew the deceased intimately? Answer. I had known her all my life. Question. Had she anyone who would wish to injure her? Answer. Not that I know of. She was a favourite with everyone. Question. What time did you come home from the ball you were at? Answer. About half past two, I think. I went straight to Mrs Villiers' room. Question. With the intention of going through it to reach your own? Answer. Yes. Question. You say you fell asleep, looking at a portrait. How long did you sleep? Answer. I don't know. I was awakened by a noise at the window, and saw the hand appear. Question. Was it a man's hand, or a woman's? Answer. I don't know. It was too indistinct for me to see clearly, and I was so afraid I fainted. Question. You saw it pour something from a bottle into the glass on the table. Answer. Yes, but I did not see it withdraw. I fainted right off. Question. When you recovered your senses, the deceased had drunk the contents of the glass. Answer. Yes. She must have felt thirsty and drunk it, not knowing it was poisoned. Question. How do you know it was poisoned? Answer. I only suppose so. I don't think anyone would come to a window and pour anything into a glass without some evil purpose. The coroner then asked why the glass, with what remained of the contents, had not been put in evidence, but was informed that the glass was broken. When Kitty had ended her evidence and was stepping down, she caught the eye of Vandaloop, who was looking at her keenly. She met his gaze defiantly, and he smiled meaningly at her. At this moment, however, Kilsip bent forward and whispered something to the coroner, whereupon Kitty was recalled. Question. You were an actress, Miss Marchurst. Answer. Yes, I was on tour with Mr Theodore Wapples for some time. Question. Do you know a drama called The Hidden Hand? Answer. Yes, I have played in it once or twice. Question. Is there not a strong resemblance between your story of this crime and the drama? Answer. Yes, it is very much the same. Kilsip then gave his evidence and proposed that he had examined the ground between the window where the hand was alleged to have appeared and the garden wall. There were no footmarks on the flower bed under the window, which was the only place where footmarks would show, as the lawn itself was hard and dry. He also examined the wall, but could find no evidence that anyone had climbed over it, as it was defended by broken bottles, and the bushes at its foot were not crushed or disturbed in any way. Dr Chinston was then called and opposed that he had made a post-mortem examination of the body of the deceased. The body was that of a woman of apparently fifty or fifty-five years of age and of medium height. The body was well nourished. There were no ulcers or other signs of disease and no marks of violence on the body. The brain was congested and soft, and there was an abnormal amount of fluid in the spaces known as the ventricles of the brain. The lungs were gorge with dark fluid blood. The heart appeared healthy. Its left side was contracted and empty, but the right was dilated and filled with dark fluid blood. The stomach was somewhat congested and contained a little partially digested food. The intestines here and there were congested, and throughout the body the blood was dark and fluid. Question. What then, in your opinion, was the cause of death? Answer. In my opinion death resulted from serious effusion on the brain, commonly known as serious apoplexy. Question. Then you found no appearances in the stomach, or else, which would lead you to believe poison had been taken. Answer. No, none. Question. From the post-mortem examination, could you say the death of the deceased was not due to some narcotic poison? Answer. No, the post-mortem appearances of the body are quite consistent with those of poisoning by certain poisons, but there is no reason to suppose that any poison had been administered in this case. As I, of course, go by what I see, and the presence of poisons, especially vegetable poisons, can only be detected by chemical analysis. Question. Did you analyze the contents of the stomach chemically? Answer. No, it was not my duty to do so. I handed over the stomach to the police, seeing that there is suspicion of poison, and hence it will go to the government analysis. Question. It is stated that the deceased had convulsions before she died. Is this not a symptom of narcotic poisoning? Answer. In some cases, yes, but not commonly. Aconite, for instance, always produces convulsions in animals, seldom in man. Question. How do you account for the congested condition of the lungs? Answer. I believe the serious effusion caused death by suspended respiration. Question. Was there any odor perceptible? Answer. No, none whatsoever. The inquest was then adjourned till next day, and there was great excitement over the affair. If Kitty Marcher's statement was true, the deceased must have died from the administration of poison. But, on the other hand, Dr. Chinston asserted positively that there was no trace of poison, and that the deceased had clearly died from apoplexy. Public opinion was very much divided, some asserting the Kitty story was true, while others said she had got the idea from the hidden hand, and only told it in order to make herself notorious. There were plenty of letters written to the papers on the subject, each offering a new solution of the difficulty, but the fact remained the same. The Kitty said the deceased had been poisoned, the doctor, that she had died of apoplexy. Colton was considerably puzzled over the matter. Of course, there was no doubt that the man who committed the murder had intended to poison Madame Midas. But the fact that Selena stayed all night with her had resulted in the wrong person being killed. Madame Midas told Colton the whole story of her life, and asserted positively that if the poison was meant for her, Villiers must have administered it. This was all very well, but the question then arose, was Villiers alive? The police were once more set to work, and once more their search resulted in nothing. All together the whole affair was wrapped in mystery, and it could not even be told if a murder had been committed, or if the deceased had died from natural causes. The only chance of finding out the truth would be to have the stomach analysed, and the cause of death ascertained. Once that was done, and the matter could be gone on with, or dropped, according to the report of the analysis. If he said it was apoplexy, Kitty's story would necessarily have to be discredited as an invention, but if on the other hand the traces of poison were found, search would have to be made for the murderer. Matters were at a deadlock, and everyone waited impatiently for the report of the analyst. Suddenly, however, a new interest was given to the case by the assertion that a Ballarat doctor called Golopec, who was a noted toxicologist, had come down to Melbourne to assist at the analysis of the stomach, and knew something which would throw light on the mysterious death. Vandaloup saw the paragraph, which gave disinformation, and had disturbed him very much. Cursed that book of prevolves, he said to himself, as he threw down the paper, it will put them right on the track, and then, well, observed Monsour Vandaloup, sententiously, they say, Danger sharpens a man's wits, it's lucky for me if it does. End of Part 2, Chapter 12, Part 2, Chapter 13, of Meta Midas. This lip-revox recording is in the public domain. Meta Midas by Fergus Hume. Part 2, Chapter 13, Diamond Cut Diamond. Monsour Vandaloup's rooms in Claridan Street East Melbourne were very luxuriously and artistically furnished, in perfect accordance with the taste of their owner. But as the saturated depot is depicted by the moralists as miserable amid all his splendour, so Monsour gassed on Vandaloup, though not exactly miserable, was very ill at ease. The inquest had been adjourned until the government analyst, assisted by Dr Golipek, had examined the stomach, and according to a paragraph in the evening paper, some strange statements implicating various people would be made next day. It was this that made Vandaloup so uneasy, that he knew that Dr Golipek would trace a resemblance between the death of Selena Sprots in Melbourne and Adele Blondet in Paris. And then the question would arise how the poison used in the one case came to be used in the other. If that question arose it would be all over with him, for he would not dare to face any examination, and as discretion is the better part of Valar, Monsour Vandaloup decided to leave the country. With his usual foresight he had guessed that Dr Golipek would be mixed up in near fare, so had drawn his money out of all securities in which it was invested, sent most of it to America to a New York bank, reserving only a certain sum for travelling purposes. He was going to leave Melbourne next morning by the express train for Sydney, and there would catch the steamer to San Francisco via New Zealand and Honolulu. Once in America he would be quite safe, and as he now had plenty of money he could enjoy himself there. He had given up the idea of marrying Madame Midas, as he dare not run the risk of remaining in Australia, but then there were plenty of heiressers in the States he could marry if he chose, so to give her up was a small matter. Another thing he would be rid of Pierre Lemaire, for once letting put the ocean between him and the dumb man, he would take care they never meet again. Altogether Monseil Vandaloup had taken all precautions to secure his own safety with his usual promptitude and coolness, but notwithstanding that another twelve hours would see him on his way to Sydney en route for the States. He felt slightly uneasy, for as he often said there are always possibilities. It was about eight o'clock at night, and Gaston was busy in his rooms packing up to go away next morning. He had disposed of his apartments to Pelfort, as that young gentleman had lately come in for some money, and was dissatisfied with the paternal roof, where he was kept too strictly tied up. Vandaloup seated in his shirt sleeves in the midst of a chaos of articles of clothing. Portmanteau and Boxers was, with the experience of an accomplished traveller, rapidly putting these all away in the most expedious and neatest manner. He wanted to get finished before ten o'clock, so that he could go down to his club and show himself in order to obviate any suspicion as to his going away. He did not intend to send out any PPC cards, as he was a modest young man, and wanted to slip unosentatiously out of the country. Besides, there was nothing like precaution, as the least intimation of his approaching departure would certainly put Dr. Golopec on the alert, and cause trouble. The gas was lighted, there was a bright glare through all the room, and everything was in confusion, with Monsueva Vandaloup seated in the centre, like Mariusse amid the ruins of Carthage. While thus engaged, there came a ring at the outer door, and shortly afterwards Gaston's landlady entered his room with a card. A gentleman wants to see you, sir, she said, holding out the card. I'm not at home, replied Vandaloup Cooley. Removing the cigarette he was smoking from his mouth. I can't see anyone tonight. He says you'd like to see him, sir, answered the woman, standing at the door. The juice he does muttered Vandaloup uneasily. I wonder what this petitionist gentleman's name is? And he glanced at the card whereon was written Dr. Golopec. Vandaloup fell to chill running through him, as he rose to his feet. The battle was about to begin, and he knew he would need all his wit and skill to get himself out safely. Dr. Golopec had thrown down the gauntlet, and he would have to pick it up. Well, it was best to know the worst at once, so he told the landlady he would see Golopec downstairs. He did not want him to come up there, as he would see all the evidences of his attention to lead the country. I'll see him downstairs, he said sharply, to the landlady, asked the gentleman to wait. The landlady, however, was pushed roughly to one side, and Dr. Golopec, rusty and dingy-looking as ever, entered the room. No need, my dear friend, he said in his grating voice, blinking at the young man through his spectacles. We can talk here. Vandaloup signed to the landlady to leave the room, which she did, closing the door after her, and then, pulling himself together with a great effort, he advanced smilingly on the doctor. Ah, my dear Monsour, he said, in his musical voice, holding out both hands, how pleased I am to see you. Dr. Golopec gurgled pleasantly in his throat, at this, and laughed. That is, something apparently went wrong in his inside, and a rasping noise came out of his mouth. You clever young man, he said affectionately to Gaston, as he unwound along crimson woolen scarf from his throat, and thereby caused a button to fly off his waistcoat with the exertion. Dr. Golopec, however, then used to these little eccentricities of his toilet, pinned the waistcoat together, and then, sitting down, spread his red bandana handkerchief over his knees, and stared steadily at Vandaloup, who had put on a loose velvet smoking coat, and, with a cigarette in his mouth, was leaning against the mantelpiece. It was raining outside, and the pleasant patter of the raindrops was quite audible in the stillness of the room, while every now and then, a gust of wind would make the windows rattle, and shape the heavy, green curtains. The two men eyed one another keenly, for they both knew they had an unpleasant quarter of an hour before them, and were like two clever fences, both watching their opportunity to begin the combat. Golopec, with his greasy coat, all rucked up behind his neck, and his frayed shirt cuffs coming down on his ungainly hands, sat sternly silent, so Vandaloup, after contemplating him for a few moments, had to begin the battle. My room is untidy, is it not, he said, nodding his head carelessly at the chaos of furniture. I'm going away for a few days. A few days, ha-ha, observed Golopec, something again going wrong with his insight. Your destination is, Sidney replied Gaston promptly, and then queried the doctor. Gaston shrugged his shoulders. Depends upon circumstances he answered lazily. That's the mistake, retorted Golopec, leaning forward. It depends upon me. Vandaloup smiled. In that case, circumstances, as represented by you, will permit me to choose my own destinations. Depends entirely upon your being guided by circumstances, as represented by me, retorted the doctor grimly. Pecher, said the Frenchman Cooley, let us have done with allegory, and come to common sense. What do you want? I want Octid Brawlard, said Golopec, rising to his feet. Vandaloup quite expected this, and was too clever to waste time in denying his identity. He stands before you, he answered curtly. What then? You acknowledged, then, that you are Octid Brawlard, transported to New Caledonia for the murder of Adele Blondet, said the doctor, tapping the table with one hand. To you, yes, answered Vandaloup, crossing to the door, and locking it. To others, no. Why do you lock the door? asked Golopec, roughly. I don't want my private affairs all over Melbourne, retorted Gaston smoothly, returning to his position in front of the fireplace. Are you afraid? Something again went wrong with Dr Golopec's inside, and he grated out a hard, ironical laugh. Do I look afraid? he asked, spreading out his hands. Vandaloup stooped down to the portman too, lying open at his feet, and picked up a revolver, which he pointed straight at Golopec. You make an excellent target, he observed quickly, putting his finger on the trigger. Dr Golopec sat down, and arranged his handkerchief once more over his knees. Very likely he answered curtly, but a target you won't practice on. Why not? asked Vandaloup, still keeping his finger on the trigger. Because the pistol shot would alarm the house, said Golopec serenely. And if I was found dead, you would be arrested for my murder. If I was only wounded, I could tell a few facts about Monsour, Octa Braulard, that would have an unpleasant influence on the life of Monsour Gaston Vandaloup. Vandaloup laid the pistol down on the mantelpiece with a laugh, lit a cigarette, and, sitting down in a chair opposite Golopec, began to talk. You are a brave man, he said, coolly blowing out a wreath of smoke. I admire brave men. You are a clever man, retorted the doctor. I admire clever men. Very good, said Vandaloup, crossing one leg over the other. As we now understand one another, I await your explanation of this visit. Dr Golopec, with admirable composure, placed his hands on his knees, and acceded to the request of Monsour Vandaloup. I saw in the ballerette and Melbourne newspapers, he said quietly, that Selena Sprotz, the servant of Mrs Villiers, was dead. The paper said foul play was suspected, and according to the evidence of Kitty Marchhurst, whom, by the way, I remember very well, the deceased had been poisoned. An examination was made of the body, but no traces of poison were found, knowing you were acquainted with Madame Midas, and recognising this case as a peculiar one. Seeing that poison was asserted to have been given, and yet no appearances could be found, I came down to Melbourne, saw the doctor who had analysed the body, and heard what he had to say on the subject. The symptoms were described as apoplexy, similar to those of a woman who died in Paris, called Adèle Blondette, and whose case was reported in a book by Messes Provol and Lébrun. Becoming suspicious, I assisted at a chemical analysis of the body, and found that the woman Sprotz had been poisoned by an extract of hemlock, the same poison used in the case of Adèle Blondette. The man who poisoned Adèle Blondette was sent to New Caledonia, escaped from there, and came to Australia, and prepared this poison at Ballarat. And why I called here tonight, was to know the reason, Montseua Octave Broullard, better known as Gaston van der Loop, poisoned Selena Sprotz, in mistake for Madame Midas. If Dr Gollipeck had thought to upset van der Loop by this recital, he was never more mistaken in his life, for that young gentleman heard him coolly to the end, and taking the cigarette out of his mouth smiled quietly. In the first place, he said smoothly, I acknowledge the truth of all your story, except the latter part, and I must compliment you on the admirable way you have guessed the identity of Broullard with van der Loop, as you have no proof to show that they are the same. But with regard to the death of Mademoiselle Sprotz, she died as you have said, but I, though the maker of the poison, did not administer it. Who did then, asked Gollipeck, who was quite prepared for this denial. Van der Loop smoothed his moustache, and looked at the doctor with a keen glance. Kitty Marchhurst, he said coolly. The rain was beating wildly against the windows, and someone in the room below was playing the eternal waltz. One summer's night in Munich, while van der Loop, leaning back in his chair, stared at Dr. Gollipeck, who looked at him disbelievingly. It's not true, he said harshly. What reason had she to poison the woman Sprotz? None at all, replied van der Loop landling, but she had to poison Mrs. Villiers. Go on, said Gollipeck gruffly. I've no doubt you will make up an admirable story. So kind of you to compliment me, observed van der Loop lightly, but in this instance I happened to tell the truth. Kitty Marchhurst was my mistress. It was you that ruined her, then, cried Gollipeck, pushing back his chair. Van der Loop shrugged his shoulders. If you put it that way, yes, he answered simply, but she fell into my mouth like ripe fruit, surely with a sneer. At your age you don't believe in virtue. Yes, I do, retorted Gollipeck fiercely. More feel you, replied Gaston, with a libertine look on his handsome face. Belzac never said a truer word than that. A woman's virtue is man's greatest invention. Well, we won't discuss morality now. She came with me to Melbourne and lived as my mistress. Then she wanted to marry me, and I refused. She had a bottle of the poison, which I had made, and threatened to take it and kill herself. I prevented her, and then she left me, went on the stage, and afterwards, meeting Madame Midas, went to live with her, and we renewed our acquaintance. On the night of this, well, murder, if you like to call it so, we were at a ball together. Mademoiselle Marchhurst heard that I was going to marry Madame Midas. She asked me if it was true. I did not deny it, and she said she would sooner poison Mrs. Villiers than see her married to me. She went home, and not knowing the dead woman was in bed with Madame Midas poisoned the drink, and the consequences you know. As to this story at the hand, it is a stage play, that is all. Dr. Gollipeck rose and walked to and fro in the little clear space left among the disorder. What a devil you are, he said, looking at Vanderlooth admiringly. What, because I did not poison this woman, he said, in a mocking tone. Bah! you are less moral than I thought you were. The doctor did not take any notice of this snare, but, putting his hands in his pockets, faced round to the young man. I gave my evidence tomorrow, he said quietly, looking keenly at the young man, and I proved conclusively the woman was poisoned. To this I must refer to the case of Adele Blondet, and then that implicates you. Pardon me, observed Vanderlooth Cooley, removing some ash from his velvet coat. It implicates Octave Broulard, who is at present with the sharp look at Gollipeck, in New Caledonia. If that is the case, asked the Dr. Gruffley, who were you? I am the friend of Broulard, said Vanderlooth, in a measured tone. Myself, Broulard, and Provol, one of the writers of the book you refer to, were medical students together, and we all three emphatically knew about the poison extracted from hemlock. He spoke so quietly that Gollipeck looked at him in a puzzled manner, not understanding his meaning. You mean Broulard and Provol were medical students, he said doubtfully. Exactly, assented Montshewer Vanderlooth, with an eerie wave of his hand. Gaston Vanderlooth is a fictitious third person I have called into existence for my own safety. You understand? As Gaston Vanderlooth, a friend of Broulard, I knew all about this poison, and manufactured it in Valarat, for a mere experiment. And as Gaston Vanderlooth, I gave evidence against the woman who was my mistress on the ground of poisoning Selina's trots with hemlock. You are not shielding yourself behind this girl, asked the doctor, coming close to him. How could I? replied Vanderlooth, slipping his hand into his pocket. I could not have gone down to St Kilda, climbed over a wall with glass bottles on top, and committed the crime. As Kitty Marchhurst says, it was done. If I had done this, there would be some trace. No, I assure you, Madame Iselle Marchhurst, and none other, is the guilty woman. She was in the room, Madame Midas asleep in bed. What was easier for her than to pour the poison into the glass, which stood ready to receive it? Mind you, I don't say she did it deliberately. Impulse, hallucination, madness, what you like, but she did it. By God! cried Golly Peck-Vormley. You'd argue a rope round the girl's neck, even before she has had a trial. I believe you did it yourself. If I did, retorted Vanderlooth Cooley. When I am in the witness box, I run the risk of being found out. But it is so, I take my chance at that, but I ask you to keep silent, as to Gaston Vanderlooth being after Brawlad. Why should I, said the Doctor Harsley? For many admirable reasons, replied Vanderlooth smoothly. In the first place, as Brawlad's friend, I can prove the case against Madame Iselle Marchhurst quite as well, as if I appeared as Brawlad himself. In the next place, you have no evidence to prove I am identical with the murderer of Adele Blondet. And lastly, suppose you did prove it. What satisfaction would it be to you to send me back to a French prison? I have suffered enough for my crime, and now I am rich and respectable. Why should you drag me back to the depths again? Read, Lay Miserable, of our great Hugo, before you answer, my friend. Read the book long ago, retorted Golly Peck roughly. More moved by the argument than he cared to show. I will keep silent about this, if you leave the colony at once. I agree, said Vanderlooth, pointing to the floor. You see, I had already decided to travel before you entered. Any other stipulation? None, retorted the doctor, putting on his scarf again. With Octa Brawlad, I have nothing to do. I want to find out who killed Selena's frats, and if you did, I won't spare you. First, catch your hair, replied Vanderlooth smoothly, going to the door and unlocking it. I am ready to stand the test of a trial, and surely they ought to content you. As it is, I'll stay in Melbourne long enough to give you the satisfaction of hanging this woman for the murder, and then I will go to America. Dr Golly Peck was disgusted at the smooth brutality of this man, and moved hastily to the door. We do not have a glass of wine, asked Vanderlooth, stopping him. Wine with you, said the doctor harshly, looking him up and down. No, it would choke me, and he hurried away. I wish it would, observed Monsour Vanderlooth pleasantly, as he re-entered the room. Huuh! This devil of a doctor! What a dangerous fool! But I have got the better of him, and at all events, he said, lighting another cigarette. I have saved Vanderlooth from suffering for the crime of Brawlad. End of Part 2, Chapter 13. Part 2, Chapter 14, of Madame Modus. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Madame Modus by Fergus Hume. Part 2, Chapter 14. Circumstantial Evidence. There was no doubt the Sprott's poisoning case was the sensation of the day in Melbourne. The papers were full of it, and some even went so far as to give a plan of the house, with dotted lines thereon, to show how the crime was committed. All this was extremely amusing, for, as a matter of fact, the evidence as yet had not shown any reasonable ground for supposing foul play had taken place. One paper, indeed, said that far too much was assumed in the case, and that the report of the government analyst should be waited for before such emphatic opinions were given by the press, regarding the mode of death. But it was no use trying to reason with the public. They had got it into their sage heads that a crime had been committed and demanded evidence. So, as the press had no real evidence to give, they made it up, and the public, in private conversations, amplified the evidence until they constructed a complete criminal case. Pishaw said Rolston, when he read these sensational reports, in spite of the quinnocks, the mountain will only produce a mouse after all. But he was wrong, for now rumours were started that the government analyst and Dr. Gollipeck had found poison in the stomach, and that, moreover, the real criminal would be soon discovered. Public opinion was much divided as to who the criminal was. Some, having heard the story of madam's marriage, said it was her husband. Others insisted Kitty Marchhurst was the culprit, and was trying to shield herself behind this wild story at the hand coming from behind the curtains, while others were in favour of suicide. At all events, on the morning when the inquest was resumed, and the evidence was to be given of the analysis of the stomach, the court was crowded, and a dead silence pervaded the place when the government analyst stood up to give his evidence. Madam Modus was present, with Kitty seated beside her, the latter looking pale and ill, and Kilsip, with a gratified smile on his face, which seemed as though he had got a clue to the whole mystery, was seated next to Kelton. Vanderloop, faultlessly dressed, and as cool and calm as possible, was also in court, and Dr. Gollipeck, as he waited his turn to give evidence, could not help admiring the marvellous nerve and courage of the young man. The government analyst, being called, was sworn in the usual way, and deposed that the stomach of the deceased had been sent to him to be analysed. He had used the usual tests, and found the presence of the alkaloid of Hemlock, known under the name of Conea. In his opinion, the death of the deceased was caused by the administration of an extract of Hemlock. Sensation in the court. Question. Then, in your opinion, the deceased has been poisoned. Answer. Yes, I have not the least doubt on the subject. I detected the Conea very soon after the tests were applied. There was great excitement when this evidence was concluded, as it gave quite a new interest to the case. The question as to the cause of death was now set at rest. The deceased had been murdered, so the burning anxiety of everyone was to know who had committed the crime. All sorts of opinions were given, but the murmur of voices ceased when Dr Golipek stood up to give his evidence. He deposed that he was a medical practitioner practising at Ballarat. He had seen the report of the case in the papers, and had come down to Melbourne, as he thought he could throw a certain light on the affair. For instance, where the poison was procured. Sensation. About three years ago, a crime had been committed in Paris, which caused a great sensation at the time. The case being a peculiar one was reported in a medical work by Messier's Preval and Lebrun, which he had obtained from France some two years back. The facts of the case were shortly eased. An actress called Adele Blondette died from the effects of poison. Administered to her by Octav Braulard, who was her lover. The deceased had also another lover called Kerstreich, who was supposed to be implicated in the crime, but he had escaped. The woman in this case had been poisoned by an extract of hemlock, the same poison used as in the case of Selena Sprotz, and it was the similarity of the symptoms that made him suspicious of the sudden death. Braulard was sent out to New Caledonia for the murder, while in Paris he had been a medical student with two other gentlemen, one of whom was Monsour Preval, who had reported the case, and the other was at present in court, and was called Monsour Gaston Vandaloup. Sensation in the court, everyone's eye being fixed on Vandaloup, who was calm and unmoved. Monsour Vandaloup had manufactured the poison used in this case, but with regard to how it was administered to the deceased, he would leave that evidence to Monsour Vandaloup himself. When Golly Peck left the witness box, there was a dead silence, as everyone was too much excited at his strange story to make any comment thereon. Madame Midas looked with some astonishment on Vandaloup, as his name was called out, and he moved gracefully to the witness box, while Kitty's face grew paler even than it was before. She did not know what Vandaloup was going to say, but a great dread seized her, and with dry lips and clenched hands, she sat staring at him as if paralysed. Kilsip stole a look at her, then rubbed his hands together, while Kelton sat absolutely still, scribbling figures on his note paper. Monsour Gaston Vandaloup, being spawned, deposed. He was a native of France, a Flemish descent, as could be seen from his name. He had known Brawlad intimately. He also knew Preval. He had been 18 months in Australia, and for some time had been clerk to Mrs Villiers at Bellarat. He was fond of chemistry, yes, and had made several experiments with poisons, while up at Bellarat, with Dr Gollipeck, who was a great toxicologist. He had seen the hemlock in the garden of a hotel keeper at Bellarat, called Twixby, and had made an extract therefrom. He only did it by way of experiment, and had put the bottle containing the poison in his desk, forgetting all about it. The next time he saw that bottle was in the possession of Miss Kitty Marchhurst, sensation in court. She had threatened to poison herself. He again saw the bottle in her possession on the night of the murder. This was at the house of Monsour Medelchip. A report had been circulated that he, the witness, was going to marry Mrs Villiers, and Miss Marchhurst asked him if it was true. He had denied it, and Miss Marchhurst had said that sooner than he, the witness, should marry Mrs Villiers, she would poison her. The next morning he heard that Selena Sprotz were dead. Kitty Marchhurst heard all this evidence in dumb horror. She now knew that after ruining her life, this man wanted her to die. At the end of the day, she had to die at Fallon's death. She arose to her feet and stretched out her hands in protest against him. But before she could speak a word, the place seemed to whirl round her, and she fell down in a dead faint. This event caused great excitement in the court, and many began to assert positively that she must be guilty. Else why did she faint? Kitty was taken out of court, and the examination was proceeded with, while Madame Midas sat pale and horror struck at the revelations which were now being made. The coroner now proceeded to cross-examine Vanderloop. Question. You say you put the bottle containing this poison into your desk. How did Miss Marchhurst obtain it? Answer. Because she lived with me for some time and had access to my private papers. Question. Was she your wife? Answer. No, my mistress. Sensation in the court. Question. Why did she leave you? Answer. We had a difference of opinion about the question of marriage, so she left me. Question. She wanted you to make reparation, in other words, to marry her. Answer. Yes. Question. And you refused? Answer. Yes. Question. It was on this occasion she produced the poison first. Answer. Yes. She told me she had taken it from my desk and would poison herself if I did not marry her. She changed her mind, however, and went away. Question. Did you know what became of her? Answer. Yes. I heard she went on the stage with Monsieur Wapples. Question. Did she take the poison with her? Answer. Yes. Question. How do you know she took the poison with her? Answer. Because next time I saw her it was still in her possession. Question. That was at Mr. Metal Chip's ball. Answer. Yes. Question. On the night of the commission of the crime. Answer. Yes. Question. What made her take it to the ball? Answer. Rather a difficult question to answer. She heard rumours that I was to marry Mrs. Villiers, and even though I denied it, declined to believe me. She then produced the poison and said she would take it. Question. Where did this conversation take place? Answer. In the conservatory. Question. What did you do when she threatened to take the poison? Answer. I tried to take it from her. Question. Did you succeed? Answer. No. She threw it out at the door. Question. Then when she left Mr. Metal Chip's house to come home, she had no poison with her. Answer. I don't think so. Question. Did she pick the bottle up again after she threw it out? Answer. No. Because I went back to the ballroom with her. Then I came out myself to look for the bottle. But it was gone. Question. You have never seen it since. Answer. No. It must have been picked up by someone who was ignorant of its contents. Question. By your own showing, once you were a bandaloo, Ms. Marchhurst had no poison with her when she left Mr. Metal Chip's house. How then could she commit this crime? Answer. She told me she still had some poison left, that she divided the contents of the bottle she had taken from my door. And that she still had enough left at home to poison Mrs. Villiers. Question. Did she say she would poison Mrs. Villiers? Answer. Yes. Sooner than see her married to me. Sensation. Question. Do you believe she went away from you with the deliberate intention of committing the crime? Answer. I do. Montseua Vandaloup then left the box amid great excitement, and Kilsip was again examined. He deposed that he had searched Ms. Marchhurst's room and found half a bottle of extract of hemlock. The contents of the bottle had been analysed and were found identical with the conure discovered in the stomach of the deceased. Question. Do you say the bottle was half empty? Answer. Rather more than that. Three quarters empty. Question. Ms. Marchhurst told Montseua Vandaloup she had poured half the contents of one bottle into the other. Would not this account for the bottle being three quarters empty? Answer. Possibly. But if the first bottle was full, it is probable she would have the poison exactly. So if it had been untouched, it ought to be half full. Question. Then you think some of the contents of this bottle were used? Answer. That is my opinion. Vandaloup was recalled and deposed that the bottle kitty took from his desk was quite full. And moreover, when the other bottle which had been found in her room was shown to him, he declared that it was as nearly as possible the same size as the missing bottle. So the inference drawn from this was that the bottle produced being three quarters empty, some of the poison had been used. The question now arose that as the guilt of Ms. Marchhurst seemed so certain, how was it that Selena's fruts was poisoned instead of her mistress? But this was settled by Madame Midas, who being recalled deposed that Kitty did not know Selena slept with her on that night, and the curtains being drawn could not possibly tell two people were in the bed. This was all the evidence obtainable, and the coroner now proceeded to sum up. The case, he said, was the most remarkable one, and it would be necessary for the jury to consider very gravely all the evidence laid before them in order to arrive at a proper conclusion before giving their verdict. In the first place it had been clearly proved by the government analyst that the deceased had died from effects of conure, which was, as they had been told, the alkaloid of Hemlock, a well-known hedge plant which grows abundantly in most parts of Great Britain. According to the evidence of Dr. Chinston, the deceased had died from serious apoplexy, and from all the post-mortem appearances, this was the case. But they must remember that it was almost impossible to detect certain vegetable poisons, such as aconite and atropia, without minute chemical analysis. They would remember a case which started London some years ago, in which the poisoner had poisoned the brother-in-law by means of aconite, and it taxed all the ingenuity and cleverness of experts to find the traces of poison in the stomach of the deceased. In this case, however, thanks to Dr. Golipek, who had seen the similarity of the symptoms between the post-mortem appearance of the stomach of Adele Bondet and the present case, the usual tests for conure were applied, and as they had been told by the government analyst, the result with conure was found. So they could be quite certain that the deceased had died of poison, that poison being conure. The next thing for them to consider was how the poison was administered. According to the evidence of Miss Marchhurst, some unknown person had been standing outside the window and poured the poison into the glass on the table. Mrs. Villiers had stated that the window was open all night, and from the position of the table near it, nothing would be easier than for anyone to introduce the poison into the glass as asserted by Miss Marchhurst. On the other hand, the evidence of the detective kill-sip went to show that no marks were visible as to anyone having been at the window, and another thing which rendered Miss Marchhurst's story doubtful was the resemblance it had to a drama in which she had frequently acted, called the hidden hand. In the last act of the drama, poison was administered to one of the characters in precisely the same manner, and though of course such a thing might happen in real life, still in this case it was highly suspicious circumstance that a woman like Miss Marchhurst, who had frequently acted in the drama, should see the same thing actually occur off the stage. Rejecting then, as improbable, the story of the hidden hand, seeing that the evidence was strongly against it, the next thing was to look into Miss Marchhurst's past life and see if she had any motive for committing the crime. Before doing so, however, he would point out to them that Miss Marchhurst was the only person in the room when the crime was committed. The window in her own room and one of the windows in Mrs Villiers room were both locked, and the open window had a table in front of it, so that anyone entering would very probably knock it over, and thus awaken the sleepers. On the other hand no one could have entered in at the door, because they would not have had time to escape before the crime was discovered, so it was clearly shown that Miss Marchhurst must have been alone in the room when the crime was committed. Now to look into her past life, it was certainly not a very credible one. Montseua Vandaloupe had sworn that she had been his mistress for over a year and had taken the poison manufactured by himself out of his private desk. Regarding Montseua Vandaloupe's motives in preparing such a poison, he could say nothing. Of course he probably did it by way of experiment to find out if this colonial-grown hemlock possessed the same poisonous qualities as it did in the old world. It was the careless thing of him, however, to leave it in his desk where it could be obtained for all such dangerous matters should be kept under lock and key. To go back, however, to Miss Marchhurst, it had been proved by Montseua Vandaloupe that she was his mistress, and that they quarreled. She produced this poison, and said she would kill herself. Montseua Vandaloupe persuaded her to abandon the idea, and she subsequently left him, taking the poison with her. She then went on the stage, and subsequently left it in order to live with Mrs. Villiers as her companion. All this time she still had the poison, and in order to prevent her losing it, she put half of it into another bottle. Now this looked very suspicious, as if she had not intended to use it, she certainly would never have taken such trouble over preserving it. She meets Montseua Vandaloupe at a ball, and hearing that he is going to marry Mrs. Villiers, she loses her head completely, and threatens to poison herself. Montseua Vandaloupe tries to wrench the poison from her, whereupon she flings it into the garden. This bottle has disappeared, and the presumption is that it was picked up. But if the jury had any idea that the poison was administered from the lost bottle, they might as well dismiss it from their minds, as it was observed to suppose such an improbable thing could happen. In the first place, no one but Montseua Vandaloupe and Miss Marchers knew what the contents were, and in the second place, what motive could anyone who picked it up have in poisoning Mrs. Villiers? And why should they adopt such an extraordinary way of doing it, as Miss Marchers asserted they did? On the other hand, Miss Marchers tells Montseua Vandaloupe that she still has some poison left, and that she will kill Mrs. Villiers sooner than see her married to him. She declares to Montseua Vandaloupe that she will kill her, and leaves the house to go home with, apparently, all the intention of doing so. She comes home filled with all the furious rage of a jealous woman, and enters Mrs. Villiers' room, and here the jury will recall the evidence of Mrs. Villiers, who said Miss Marchers did not know that the deceased was sleeping with her. So when Miss Marchers entered the room, she naturally thought that Mrs. Villiers was by herself, and would, as a matter of course, refrain from drawing the curtains and looking into the bed, in case she should awaken her proposed victim. There was a glass with drink on the table. She was alone with Mrs. Villiers. Her heart filled with jealous rage against a woman she thinks is her rival. Her own room is a few steps away. What then was easier for her than to go to her own room, obtain the poison, and put it into the glass? The jury will remember in the evidence of Mr. Kilsip the bottle was three quarters empty, which argued some of it had been used. All the evidence against Miss Marchers was purely circumstantial, for if she committed the crime, no human eye beheld her doing so. But the presumption over having done so, in order to get rid of a successful rival, was very strong, and the weight of evidence was dead against her. The jury would therefore deliver their verdict in accordance with the facts laid before them. The jury retired, and the court was very much excited. Everyone was quite certain that Kitty was guilty. But there was a strong feeling against Monture-Vanderloop, as having been in some measure the cause, though indirectly at the crime. But that young gentleman, in accordance with his usual foresight, had left the court and gone straight home, as he had no wish to face the crowd of sullen faces, and perhaps worse. Madame Midas sat still in the court, awaiting the return of the jury, with the calm face of a marble sphinx. But though she suffered, no appearances of suffering were seen on her serene face. She never had believed in human nature, and now the girl whom she had rescued from comparative poverty, and placed in opulence, had wanted to kill her. Monture-Vanderloop, whom she admired and trusted, was black infamy, he was guilty of, he had sworn most solemnly, he never harmed Kitty, and yet he was the man who had ruined her. Madame Midas felt that the worst had come. Vanderloop, false, Kitty a murderous, her husband vanished, and Selena dead. All the will was falling into ruins around her, and she remained alone amid the ruins, with her enormous fortune, like a golden statue in a deserted temple. With clasped hands, aching heart, but impassive face, she sat waiting for the end. The jury returned in about half an hour, and there was a dead silence as the foreman stood up to deliver the verdict. The jury found as follows. That the deceased, Selena Jones-Sprotz, died on the 21st day of November, from the effects of poison, namely conure, fallonously administered by one Catherine Marchhurst. And the jury, on their oaths, said that the said Catherine Marchhurst, fallonously, willfully, and maliciously, did murder the said deceased. That evening Kitty was arrested and lodged in the Melbourne Jail to await her trial on a charge of willful murder. End of Part 2, Chapter 14. Part 2, Chapter 15 of Madame Midas. This Libra Vox recording is in the public domain. Madame Midas by Fergus Hume. Part 2, Chapter 15. Kismet. Of two evils, it is always best to choose the least. And as Monsour Vandaloup had to choose between the loss of his popularity or his liberty, he chose to lose the former instead of the latter. After all, as he argued to himself, Australia at large is the small portion of the world. And in America, no one would know anything about his little escapade in connection with Kitty. He knew that he was in Golo Peck's power, and that unless he acceded to that gentleman's demand, as to giving evidence, he would be denounced to the authorities as an escaped convict from New Caledonia, and would be sent back there. Of course, his evidence could not but prove detrimental to himself, seeing how badly he had behaved to Kitty, but still is going through the ordeal meant liberty. He did so, and the result was as he had foreseen. Men, as a real, are not very squeamish, and view each other's failings, especially towards women, with a lenient eye, but Vandaloup had gone too far, and the bachelor's club unanimously characterised his conduct as damn shady. So a letter was sent requesting Monsour Vandaloup to take his name off the books of the club. He immediately resigned, and wrote a polite letter to the secretary, which brought uneasy blushes to the cheek of that gentleman, by its stinging remarks about his and his fellow club member's morality. He showed it to several of the members, but as they all had their little redeeming vices, they determined to take no notice, and so Monsour Vandaloup was left alone. Another thing which happened was that he was socially ostracised from society, and his table, which used to be piled up with invitations, soon became quite bare. Of course, he knew he could force metalchip to recognise him, but he did not choose to do so, as all his thoughts were fixed on America. He had plenty of money, and with a new name and a brand new character, Vandaloup thought he would prosper exceedingly well in the States. So he stayed at home, not caring to face the stony faces of friends who cut him, and waited for the trial of Kitty Marchhurst, after which he intended to leave for Sydney at once, and take the next demon to San Francisco. He did not mind waiting, but amused himself reading, smoking and playing, and was quite independent of Melbourne's society. Only two things worried him, and the first of these was the annoyance of Pierre Lemaire, who seemed to have divined his intention of going away, and haunted him day and night like an unquiet spirit. When Vandaloup looked out, he saw the dumb man watching the house, and if he went for a walk, Pierre would slouch sullenly along behind him, as he had done in the early days. Vandaloup could have called in the aid of a policeman to rid himself of this annoyance, but the fact was he was afraid of offending Pierre, as he might be tempted to reveal what he knew, and the result would not be pleasant. So Gaston bore patiently with the disagreeable system of espionage the dumb man kept over him, and consoled himself with the idea that once he was on his way to America, it would not matter two straws whether Pierre told all he knew, or kept silent. The other thing which troubled the young man, were the words Kitty had made use of, in Mrs Villiers' drawing room, regarding the secret she said she knew. It made him uneasy, that he half guessed what it was, and thought she might tell it to someone out of revenge, and then there would be more troubles for him to get out of. Then again he argued that she was too fond of him ever to tell anything likely to injure him, even though he had put a rope round her neck. If he could have settled the whole affair by running away he would have done so, but Golly Peck was still in Melbourne, and Gaston knew he could not leave the town without the terrible old man finding out, and bringing him back. At last the torture of wondering how much Kitty knew was too much for him, and he determined to go to the Melbourne jail and interview her. So he obtained an order from the authorities to see her, and prepared to start next morning. He sent the servant out for a handsome, and by the time it was at the door, Monsueva Vandaloupe, cool, calm, and well dressed, came downstairs pulling on his gloves. The first thing he saw when he got outside was Pierre waiting for him, with his old hat pulled down over his eyes, and his look of sullen resignation. Gaston nodded Cooley to him, and told the cabbie he wanted to go to the Melbourne jail, whereupon Pierre slouched forward as the young man was preparing to enter the cab, and laid his hand on his arm. Well, said Vandaloupe, in a quiet voice, in French, shaking off the dumb man's arm, what do you want? Pierre pointed to the cab, whereupon Monsueva Vandaloupe shrugged his shoulders. Surely you don't want to come to the jail with me, he said mockingly, you'll get there soon enough. The other nodded, and made a step towards the cab, but Vandaloupe pushed him back. Cursed the fool, he muttered to himself, I'll have to humour him, or he'll be making a scene. You can't come, he added aloud, but Pierre still refused to go away. This conversation, or rather monologue, seeing Monsueva Vandaloupe was the only speaker, was carried on in French, so the cabman and the servant at the door were quite ignorant of its purpose, but looked rather astonished at the conduct of the dirty tram towards such an elegant looking man. Vandaloupe saw this, and therefore determined to end the scene. Well, well, he said to Pierre in French, get in at once, and then, when the dumb man entered the cab, he explained to the cabman in English. This poor devil is a pensioner of mine, and as he wants to see a friend of his in jail, I'll take him with me. He stepped into the cab, which drove off. The cabman, rather astonished at the whole affair, but nonetheless contented himself with merely winking at the pretty servant girl, who stood on the steps, whereupon she tossed her head and went inside. As they drove along, Vandaloupe said nothing to Pierre, not that he did not want to, but he mistrusted the trapdoor in the roof of the cab, which would permit the cabman to overhear everything. So they went along in silence, and when they arrived at the jail, Vandaloupe told the cabman to wait for him, and walked towards the jail. You are coming inside, I suppose, he said sharply to Pierre, who still slouched alongside. The dumb man nodded sullenly. Vandaloupe cursed Pierre in his innermost heart, but smiled blamely and agreed to let him enter with him. There was some difficulty with the water at the door, as the permission to see the prisoner was only made out in the name of Montseua Vandaloupe, but after some considerable trouble they succeeded in getting in. My faith observed Gaster lightly, as they went along to the cell, conducted by a water. It's almost as hard to get into jail as to get out of it. The water admitted them both to Kitty's cell, and left them alone with her. She was seated on the bed in the corner of the cell, in an attitude of deepest dejection. When they entered, she looked up in a mechanical sort of manner, and Vandaloupe could see how worn and pinched looking her face was. Pierre went to one end of the cell and leaned against the wall in an indifferent manner, while Vandaloupe stood right in front of the unhappy woman. Kitty arose when she saw him, and an expression of loathing passed over her haggard-looking face. I, as she said bitterly, rejecting Vandaloupe's preferred hand, so you have come to see your work. Well, look around at these bare walls. See how thin and ugly I have grown. Think of the crime with which I am charged, and surely even Gaster and Vandaloupe will be satisfied. The young man sneered. Still, as good as acting as ever, I see, he said mockingly, cannot you even see a friend without going into these heroics? Why have you come here? She asked, drawing herself up to her full height. Because I am your friend, he answered Cooley. My friend, she echoed scornfully, looking at him with contempt. You ruined my life a year ago. Now you have endeavoured to fasten the guilt of murder on me, and yet you call yourself, my friend, a good story, truly, with a bitter laugh. I could not help giving the evidence I did, replied Gaster and Cooley, shrugging his shoulders. If you are innocent, what I say will not matter. If I am innocent, she said, looking at him steadily. You villain, you know I am innocent. I know nothing of the sort. Then you believe I committed the crime. I do. Kitty sat helplessly down on the bed, and passed her hand across her eyes. My God, she muttered, I am going mad. Not at all unlikely, he replied carelessly. She looked vacantly round the cell, and caught sight of Pierre, shrinking back into the shadow. Why did you bring your accomplice with you, she said, looking at Gaston. Montseua Vandaloupe shrugged his shoulders. Really, my dear baby, he said lazily, I don't know why you should call him my accomplice, as I have committed no crime. Have you not, she said, rising to her feet, and bending towards him. Think again. Vandaloupe shook his head with a smile. No, I do not think I have, he answered, glancing keenly at her. I suppose you want me to be as black as yourself. You coward, she said, in a rage, turning on him. How dare you taunt me in this manner. It is not enough that you have ruined me, and imperiled my life, without doing it me thus. You coward! Bah! retorted Vandaloupe cynically, brushing some dust off his coat. This is not the point. You insinuate that I committed a crime. Perhaps you will tell me what kind of a crime. Murder! she replied in a whisper. Oh, indeed! sneered Gaston coolly, though his lips twitched a little. The same style of crime is your own, and whose murder am I guilty of? Pray. Randolph Villiers, Vandaloupe shrugged his shoulders. Who can prove it? he asked contemptuously. I can. You, with a sneer, a murderous. Who can prove I am a murderous? she cried wildly. I can, he answered, with an ugly look. And I will, if you don't keep quiet tongue. I will keep quiet no longer, boldly rising and facing Vandaloupe, with her hands clenched at her sides. I have tried to shield you faithfully, through all your wickedness. But now that you accuse me of committing a crime, which accusation you know is false, I accuse you, Gaston Vandaloupe, and your accomplice Yonder, wheeling round and pointing to Pierre, who shrunk away, of murdering Randolph Villiers at the Black Hill Bellarat, for the sake of a nugget of gold he carried. Vandaloupe looked at her disdainfully. You are mad, he said, in a cold voice. This is the raving of a lunatic. There is no proof of what you say. It was proved conclusively that myself and Pierre were asleep at our hotel, while Montseua Villiers was with Japa at two o'clock in the morning. I know that was proved, she retorted, and by some jugglery on your part. But, nevertheless, I saw you and him, pointing again to Pierre, murder Villiers. You saw it, echoed Vandaloupe, with a disbelieving smile. Tell me how. I, she cried, making a step forward. You do not believe me, but I tell you, it is true. Yes, I know now who the two men were following Matamaris as she drove away. One was her husband, who wished to rob her, and the other was Pierre, who, acting upon your instructions, was to get the gold from Villiers should he succeed in getting it from Matamaris. You left me a few minutes afterwards, but I, with my heart full of love, wretched woman that I was, followed you at a short distance, unwilling to lose sight of you even for a little time. I climbed down among the rocks and saw you see to yourself in a narrow part of the path. Curiosity then took the place of love, and I wanted to see what you were going to do. Pierre, that wretch who cowards in the corner, came down the path, and you spoke to him in French. What was said I did not know, but I guessed enough to know you meditated some crime. Then Villiers came down the path with the nugget in its box under his arm. I recognised the box, as the one which Matamaris had brought to our house. When Villiers came opposite you, you spoke to him. He tried to pass on, and then Pierre sprung out from behind the rock, and the two men struggled together, while you seized the box containing the gold, which Villiers had let fall and watched the struggle. You saw that Villiers, animated by despair, was gradually gaining the victory over Pierre, and then you stepped in. Yes, I saw you snatch Pierre's knife from the back of his waist and stabbed Villiers in the back. Then you put the knife into Pierre's hand, all bloody, as Villiers fell dead, and I fled away. She stopped, breathless with her recital, and Vanderloop, pale but composed, would have answered her when a cry from Pierre startled them. He had come close to them, and was looking straight at Kitty. My God, he cried, then I am innocent. You shrieked Kitty, falling back on her bed. Who are you? The man pulled his hat off, and came a step nearer. I am Randolph Villiers. Kitty shrieked again, and covered her face with her hands, while Vanderloop laughed in a mocking manner, though his pale face and quivering look told that his mirth was assumed. Yes, said Villiers, throwing his hat on the floor of the cell, it was Pierre Lemaire and not I who died. The struggle took place, as you have described, but he, pointing to Vanderloop, wishing to get rid of Pierre for reasons of his own, stabbed him and not me in the back. He thrust the knife into my hand, and I, in my blind fury, thought that I had murdered the dumb man. I was afraid of being arrested for the murder, so, as suggested by Vanderloop, I changed clothes with the dead man and wrapped my own up in a bundle. We hid the body and the nugget in one of the old mining sharps, and then came down to Balorath. I was similar to Pierre in appearance, except that my chin was shaven. I went down to the Wattle Tree Hotel as Pierre, after leaving my clothes outside the window at the bedroom, which Vanderloop pointed out to me. Then he went to the theatre, and told me to rejoin him there as Villiers. I got my own clothes into the room, dressed again as myself, then locking the door so that the people of the hotel might suppose that Pierre slept. I dumped out of the window of the bedroom, and went to the theatre. There I played my part, as you know, and while we were behind the scenes, Mr Waffles asked me to put out the gas in his room. I did so, and took from his dressing table a black beard, in order to disguise myself as Pierre, till my beard had grown. We went to supper, and then I parted with Japa at two o'clock in the morning, and went back to the hotel, where I climbed into the bedroom through the window, and re-assumed Pierre's dress forever. It was by Vanderloop's advice I pretended to be drunk, as I could not go to the pactulus, where my wife would have recognised me. Then I, as the supposed Pierre, was discharged, as you know. Vanderloop, aching friendship, drew the dead man's soulry, and bought clothes and a box for me. In the middle of one night, I still disguised as Pierre, slipped out of the window, and went up to Blackhill, where I found the nugget, and brought it down to my room at the Wattle Tree Hotel. Then Vanderloop brought in the box with my clothes, and we packed the nugget in it, together with the suit I had worn at the time of the murder. Following his instructions, I came down to Melbourne, and they're disposed of the nugget, no need to ask how, as there are always people ready to do things of that sort for payment. When I was paid for the nugget, and I only got eight hundred pounds, the man who melted it down, taking the rest, I had to give six hundred to Vanderloop, as I was in his power as I thought. And dare not refuse, in case he should denounce me for the murder of Pierre Lemaire. And now I find that I have been innocent all the time, and he has been frightening me with a shadow. He, not I, was the murderer of Pierre Lemaire, and you can prove it. During all this recital, which Kitty listened to with staring eyes, Vanderloop had stood quite still, revolving in his own mind how he could escape from the position in which he found himself. When Villiers finished his recital, he raised his head and looked defiantly at both his victims. Fate has placed the game in your hands, he said coolly, while they stood and looked at him, but I'm not beaten yet, my friend. May I ask what you intend to do? Prove my innocence, said Villiers boldly. Indeed, Snead Gaston, at my expense, I presume. Yes, I will denounce you as the murderer of Pierre Lemaire. And I, said Kitty quickly, will prove Villiers innocence. Vanderloop turned on her with all the leth, cruel grace of a tiger. First you must prove your own innocence, he said in a low, fierce voice. Yes, if you can hang me for the murderer of Pierre Lemaire, I can hang you for the murder of Celina Sprotz. Yes, though I know you did not do it. I, said Kitty, quickly springing forward. You know who committed the crime. Yes, replied Vanderloop slowly. The man who committed the crime intended to murder Madame Midas, and he was the man who hated her and wished her dead, her husband. I, cried Villiers, starting forward, you lie. Vanderloop wheeled round quickly on him, and getting close to him spoke rapidly. No, I do not lie, he said, in a concentrated voice of anger. You followed me up to the house of Montseua metalchip, and hid among the trees on the lawn to watch the house. You saw Baby throw the bottle out, and picked it up. Then you went to St. Kilda, and, climbing over the wall, committed the crime. As she, pointing to Kitty, saw you do. I met you in the street near the house after you had committed it, and, see, plunging his hand into Villiers' pocket, here is the bottle which contained the poison, and he held up to Kitty the bottle with the two red bands round it, which she had thrown away. It is false, cried Villiers, in despair, seeing that all the evidence was against him. Prove it then, retorted Vanderloop, knocking at the door to summon the warder. Save your own neck before you put mine in danger. The door opened, and the warder appeared. Kitty and Villiers gazed horror-struck at one another, while Vanderloop, without another word, rapidly left the cell. The warder beckoned to Villiers to come, and with a deep sigh he obeyed. Where are you going? asked Kitty, as he moved towards the door. Going he repeated mechanically, I am going to see my wife. He left the cell, and when he got outside the jail, he saw the handsome with Vanderloop in it, driving rapidly away. Villiers looked at the retreating vehicle in despair. My God! he murmured, raising his face to the blue sky, with a frightful expression of despair. How am I to escape the clutches of this devil?