 CHAPTER XXV. An Act of Charity. Fenwick looked at the speaker as if he did not exactly comprehend what he had said. The man's mind was apparently dazed, as if the accumulation of his troubles had been too much for him. He passed his hand across his forehead, striving to collect his thoughts, and to find some way of facing this new and unexpected pearl. "'Say that again,' he faltered. "'I don't quite understand. Surely Egan and Greedy are in New York. They are both down in the hall,' the man said vehemently. "'And what's more, they know that you are here. If you don't want to spend the night in jail, get away without further delay.'" Fenwick could only look about him helplessly. It seemed to him, feudal, to make further effort. Turned which way he would, there was no avenue open to him. He looked imploringly in the direction of Charles Evors. "'I think I can manage it,' the latter said. "'Now, you fellow, whatever your name is, leave the room at once, and go downstairs and close the door behind you.' The man slunk away, and at a sign from Lyffin U. Evors closed the door. Evors jumped to his feet and crossed the room to where a picture was let into the paneling. He pushed this aside and disclosed a dark opening beyond to Fenwick's astonished gaze. The latter stared about him. "'Now, get through there,' Evors said. "'It is a good thing for you that I know all the secrets of the old house. There are many panels and passages here, for this used to be a favourite hiding place for the Fugitive Cavaliers in the time of Cromwell.' "'But where does it go?' Fenwick stammered. Evors explained that the passage terminated in a bedroom a little distance away. He went on to say that Fenwick would have only to press his hand upon the wall and that the corresponding panel of the bedroom would yield to his touch. "'It is the blue room,' he said, in which you will find yourself presently. "'Wait there, and I'll see what I can do for you. I fancy that I shall be able to convey you outside the walls of the house without anybody being the wiser.' Fenwick crept into the hall, and Evors pulled the panel across, leaving the room exactly as it had been a few minutes before. He had hardly done so when there was the sound of footsteps outside, and without ceremony the American detectives came in. The occupants of the room had had ample time to recover their self-possession, so that they could look coolly at the intruders and demand to know what this outrage meant. The Americans were clearly puzzled. "'I am sure I beg your pardon,' Egan said, but I understand that Mr. Fenwick is the tenant of the house.' "'That is so,' Evors said. "'Do you generally come into a gentleman's house in this unceremonious fashion?' "'Perhaps I had better explain my errand,' Egan said. "'We are down here with a warrant for the apprehension of Mark Fenwick, and we know that a little time ago he was in the house. He is wanted on a charge of stealing certain valuables in New York, and also for manufacturing counterfeit coins. We quite expected to find him here.' "'In that case, of course, you have perfect liberty to do as you please,' Evors said. "'I may explain that I am the only son of Lord Merton, and that I shall be pleased to do anything to help you that lies in my power. By all means, search the house.' Grady appeared as if about to say something, but Egan checked him. It was no time for the Americans to disclose the fact that they knew all about the murder of Mr. George Le Fenieux and how Evors had been more or less dragged into the business. Their main object now was to get hold of Fenwick without delay and take him back with them to London. "'Very well, sir,' Egan said. "'We need not trouble you any further. If our man is anywhere about the house, we are bound to find him. Come along, Grady.' They bustled out of the room, and presently they could be heard ranging about the house. As the two friends discussed the situation in Whispers, the door was flung open and Vera came in. Her face was aflame with indignation. She was quivering with a strange, unaccustomed passion. "'Charles,' she cried, "'I hardly expected to see you here. Perhaps you are equally surprised to see Evors.' Le Fenieux said. "'We have had an explanation.' "'I have already met, Charles,' Vera said, but he did not tell me you were coming down here. Still, all that is beside the point. There will be plenty of time for full explanation later on. What I have to complain of now is an intolerable outrage on the part of Mark Fenwick. He has actually dared to intrude himself on the privacy of my bedroom, and despite all I can say, by Jove, this is a piece of bad luck,' Evors exclaimed. "'My dear Vera, I had not the slightest idea that you were occupying the Blue Room. In fact, I did not know that it was being used at all. I managed to send Fenwick that way for the simple reason that there are two American detectives downstairs with a warrant for his arrest. It was your brother's idea to get him away.' "'What for?' Vera asked passionately. "'Why should we trouble ourselves for the safety of an abandoned wretch like that? He is the cause of all our troubles and sorrows. For the last three years he has blighted the lies of all of us. And there is worse than that. For as sure as I am speaking to you now, the blood of our dear father is upon his head.' "'Yes, and mine might have been also, but for a mere miracle,' Lefinew said. He tried to do away with me. He would have done away with all of us if he had only dared. But one thing do not forget. He is our mother's only brother. Vera started and bit her lips. It was easy to see that the appeal was not lost upon her, and that she was ready now to fall in with her brother's idea. She waited quite humbly for him to speak. "'I am glad you understand,' he said. "'It would never do for us to hand that man over to justice, richly as he deserves his sentence. And you can help us, if you will. Those men will search every room in the house, including yours. If you are in there when they come and show a certain amount of indignation.' "'Oh, I quite understand,' Vera responded. "'And I will do what I can for that wretched creature.' "'What is he doing now?' Lefinew asked. "'He has huddled himself up in a wardrobe,' Vera explained. "'He seems so paralyzed with fear that I could not get anything like a coherent account of what had happened. "'Anyway, I will go back to my room now. You need not be afraid for me.' As matters turned out, Vera had no time to spare, for she was hardly back in her room before the detectives were at the door. She came out to them, coldly indignant, and demanded to know what this conduct meant. As was only natural, the Americans were profoundly regretful and almost abjectly polite, but they had their duty to perform and they would be glad to know if Vera had seen anything of Mark Fenwick, for whose apprehension they held a warrant. "'Well,' Vera said loftily, "'you don't expect to find him in here, I suppose. "'Of course, if your duty carries you so far as to ransack a lady's room, I will not prevent you.'" The absolute iciness of the whole thing profoundly impressed the listeners. Astute as they were, it never occurred to them that the girl was acting apart. Furthermore, with their intimate knowledge of Fenwick's past, they knew well enough that Vera had no cause to shield the man of whom they were in search. "'We will not trouble you,' Egan stammered. "'It is a mere matter of form and it would be absurd to suppose that our man is concealed in your room. In all probability he received news of our coming and got away without warning his companions. It is just the sort of thing that a man of his type would do. We have the rest of the gang all safe, but we shall certainly have to look elsewhere for their chief. Will you please accept our apologies?' Vera waved the men aside haughtily. She was glad to turn her back upon them, so that they could not see the expression of her face. She was trembling violently now, for her courage had suddenly deserted her. For some long time she stood there in the corridor, until presently she heard the noise of wheels as two vehicles drove away. Then, with a great sigh of relief, she recognized the fact that the detectives had left the house. She opened the door of her room and called aloud to Fenwick. She called again and again without response. "'You can come out now,' she said contemptuously. "'There is no cause to fear, for those men have gone.' A moment later the yellow, fear-distorted face of Mark Fenwick peeped out into the corridor. He came shambling along on tottering limbs, and his coarse mouth twitched horribly. It seemed to Vera, as if she were looking at a mere travesty, of the man who so short a time ago had been so strong and masterful and courageous. "'They gave me quite a fright,' Fenwick said in a senile way. He seemed to have aged twenty years in the last few minutes. "'That was very cool and courageous of you, my dear. I couldn't have done any better myself, you dear kind girl.' He advanced now and would have taken Vera's hands in his, but she turned away from him with loathing. She was wondering which she disliked most, the cold, cruel, determined criminal, or this miserable wreck of a man lad to lean on anyone for support. "'Don't touch me,' she said with a shudder. "'Don't thank me for anything, for I should have handed you over to those men gladly. I was ready and willing to do so, only my brother recalled to me the fact that the same blood runs in the veins of both of us. It was the remembrance of this that made me lie just now that caused me to run the risk of a criminal charge myself. For I understand that anybody who harbors a thief for whose arrest a warrant has been issued runs the risk of going to jail. And to think that living you should do a thing of that kind for such a creature as yourself, it is too amazing.' "'I suppose it is, my dear,' Fenwick said in the same carnying voice. "'I never expected to find myself shielded behind a woman, but I have lost all my nerve lately, and the more I drink to drown my troubles, the worse I get. But you must not think too badly of me, for I am not so black as I am painted.' "'Could you be any blacker?' Vera asked. "'Could any human being have descended lower than you have descended? I think not. You imagine, because I threw in my lot with you three years ago, that I knew nothing of your crimes. As a matter of fact, I knew everything. I knew how you had shifted the responsibility of that dastardly murder unto the shoulders of the man who is in love with my sister Beth. It was for her sake that I pretended ignorance, for her sake that I came with you to try to get to the bottom of your designs. What I have endured in the time, nobody but myself can know. But it has all come out now, and here I am today, trying to shield you from the very vengeance that I have been plotting for you all this time. Oh, don't say anything. Don't deny it. Don't add any more useless lies to the catalogue of your vices. Go now. Let us see the last of you, and never intrude upon us again.' All this outburst of indignation had apparently been wasted on Fenwick, for he did not appear to be listening at all. He had enough troubles of his own, and despite the fact that his nerve had failed him, it was no feeling of remorse that left him stricken and trembling, and broken down before Vera's scornful eyes. He could only whine and protest that he was absolutely helpless. "'But what can I do?' he murmured, with tears in his eyes. "'I am not so young as I was. Indeed, I am much older than people take me for. I have no money, and no friends. There is not a place I can go to. Don't turn me out. Let me stay here, where I shall be safe.' "'It is impossible,' Vera said coldly. We have done enough, and more than enough for you. Now come this way, and I will hand you over to my brother and Mr. Evors. They are cleverer than I am, and may be able to devise some means for getting you out of the country. Why don't you come?' "'I can't,' Fenwick almost sobbed. There is something in my limbs that renders them powerless. If you will give me your arm. I dare say I shall be able to get as far as the little room.' The touch of the man was pollution, yet Vera bravely endured it. She could hear the excited servants talking in whispers downstairs, and one of them might appear at any moment. It would be far better for the domestic staff to assume that the culprit had vanished. Otherwise their gossip would assuredly bring the detectives back again without delay. Vera was glad enough when her task was finished, and the trembling form of Mark Fenwick was lowered into a seat. The cunning look was still in his eyes. The born criminal would never get rid of that expression, though for the rest he was an object now more for pity than fear. "'It is very good of you,' he said. "'It is far better than I deserve. You will say I can't stay here.' "'That is absolutely certain,' Liffenews said coldly. "'Most assuredly, you can't remain here. You may remain for the night, and Mr. Evors and myself will try and think of a plan between us.' "'And, Zary?' Fenwick whispered. The mention of that dreaded name set him trembling again. "'Keep me away from Zary. I'm afraid of a good many things. But the mere mention of that man's name stops my heart beating and suffocates me.' "'You had better go away,' Liffenews said to Vera, "'and leave the wretched creature to us. There will be no trouble in hiding him here for a bit. There are two rooms here that nobody knows anything about except Evors and his father.' Vera was only too glad to get away into the open air, glad to feel that at last this nerve-destroying mystery was coming to an end. She wanted to see Venor, too, and tell him all that had happened. In all probability he was waiting at the accustomed spot. It was a light heart and a feeling of youthfulness upon her that she had not felt for some time she set out on her journey. CHAPTER 26 THE LAST FINGER In the ordinary course of things, and but for the dramatic events of the evening, it would have been about the time of night when dinner was finished and the house party had gathered in the drawing room. It had been somewhere about seven when the Americans reached Merton Grange, and now it was getting towards nine. It was not exactly the temperature at which one enjoys an evening stroll, but the recent events had been so exciting that Vera felt how impossible it would be to settle down to anything within the limits of the house. There was a moon, too, which made all the difference in the world. As Vera walked along, she almost smiled to herself, to think how strange her conduct might look in the eyes of those formal people whose lives run in conventional channels. She told herself more than once that it would be absurd to hope to see Gerald at this time of night, but all the same she continued her journey across the park. She had not so far to go as she expected, for presently she could see the glow of a cigar in the distance, and Venor came up. A little joyful cry came from Vera. This is very fortunate, she said. How lucky it is that I should run against you in this fashion. Well, I was flattering myself that you came on purpose, Venor said, and after all, it is not so very lucky, seeing that I have been hanging about this house on the chance of seeing you since it became dark. But you look rather more disturbed and anxious than usual. My dear girl, I do hope and trust that there are no new complications. I shall really have to take you by force and carry you out of the country. Why should we have to go on living this miserable kind of existence, when we can take our happiness in both hands and enjoy it? Now don't tell me that something fresh has occurred that will keep us apart, for another year or two. By the way, have you had any visitors tonight? What do you know about them? Vera asked. Have you found out anything about Mr. Fenwick? Well, I should say so, Venor said dryly. I have absolutely got to the bottom of that mysterious coin business. In fact, I accompanied Egan and Grady to London, and I was with them when they arrested that awful creature Blosset. Egan and Grady are old friends of mine, and I told them all about the strange coins and how you literally burnt your fingers over them. They were coming down here to arrest Fenwick, and I offered to accompany them, but they declined my offer, so I returned here alone, and have been hanging about the house. Curious to know what has taken place. Have they bagged our friend Fenwick yet? It is about Mr. Fenwick that I wish to speak to you, Vera replied. Mr. Evors is down here. By the way, I don't know whether you are aware of the fact that he is the son of Lord Merton. Perhaps you had better tell me the story, Venor said. I am coming to that presently. Mr. Evors is down here. He is the man who is engaged to my sister Beth. Venor whistled softly to himself. At any rate, he knew all about that, for his mind went swiftly back to the series of dramatic events which had taken place some time previously in the house in Portsmouth Square. He recollected now the white-faced young man who had broken away from his captors and joined Lyffin Yu, otherwise Bates in the drawing-room. He recollected the joy and delight of the girl, and how she had clung to the stranger as if he had come back to her from the other side of the grave. There will be a great many things to be explained between us presently, he said gravely, but for the present I want to know all about Fenwick. Where is he now? He is hiding up at the house. I believe they have put him into a secret room, the whereabouts of which is only known to Charles Evors. Of course, he will not stay. But why shield such a blackard at all? Venor asked. Surely, after all the trouble he has caused you? You must not forget that he is our own flesh and blood, Vera said quietly. I had almost ignored the fact. I am afraid I should have ignored it altogether, had not my brother taken a strong view of the matter. At any rate, there he is, and we are in a conspiracy to get him safely out of the country. For the present, the man is utterly broken down and absolutely incapable of taking care of himself. I want you to do me a favour, Gerald. I want you to take a hand in this business. While the police are still hot on the track, it would not be prudent for Mr. Evors or my brother to be too much in evidence just now. My dearest girl, I would do anything in the world for you, Venor cried, and if I am to take that sorry old rascal out of the country and get rid of him altogether, I will do so with pleasure and never count the cost, if I could see your brother. Then why not come and see him now, Vera said. You will have to meet sooner or later, and there could be no better opportunity for an explanation. To Lyphineau and Evors smoking in the dining-room came Vera and Venor. Lyphineau looked up with a sort of mild surprise, and perhaps just a suspicion of mistrust in his eyes. Whom have we here, Vera? he said. This is Mr. Gerald Venor, Vera said. You know him perfectly well by name. He was with us, on and off, for a considerable time before our poor father died. Father had a great regard for him, and I hope you will have the same, for a reason which I am just going to mention. I am sure I'm very pleased to meet you, Lyphineau said politely. This is my friend, Mr. Charles Evors, the only son of the owner of the house. When I come to look at you, Mr. Venor, I confess that your appearance pleases me, but I have had to deal with so many suspicious characters lately that really— Don't apologize, Venor laughed. You will have to make the best of me. I came here tonight with Vera to have a thorough explanation of certain matters. Oh, indeed! Lyphineau responded with uplifted brows. My sister and you appear to be on very familiar terms. It is only natural, Vera laughed. A vivid blush flooded her face. Charles, Mr. Venor, is my husband. I am not in the least surprised to hear it, Lyphineau said. In fact, I am not surprised at anything. I have quite outgrown all emotions of that kind, but perhaps you will be good enough to tell me how this came about and why I have not heard of it before. As your brother, I am entitled to know. Of course you are. It was just after our father died that I promised myself to Gerald. I had my own ideas why the marriage should be kept a secret. You see, I had more or less thrown in my lot with my uncle, Mark Fenwick, because I had determined to get to the bottom of the business of our father's death. I felt certain that Charles here had nothing to do with it, though, owing to his folly and weakness, he played directly into the hands of the man who was really responsible for the crime. We all know who is responsible for the crime, Lyphineau said. There is no necessity to mention his name. Oh, I know that, Vera went on. The explanation I am making now is more to my husband than either of you. He has been goodness and kindness itself, and he is entitled to know everything. It was within a few minutes of mine being married that I learned something of the dreadful truth. I learned that Fenwick had conspired to throw the blame of the tragedy upon Charles' evores. I found out what an effect this conspiracy had had on our poor Beth. Then and there I came to a great resolution. I wrote to my husband and told him that in all probability I could never see him again. At any rate, I could not see him for a long space of time. I implored him to trust me, in spite of all appearances, and he did so. Now he knows the reason why I acted so strangely. I can see that he has a thousand questions to ask me, but I hope that he will refrain from doing so at present. The thing that troubles me now is what has become of poor little Beth. Oh, she is all right enough, Lyphineau said. I thought of that before I came down. I have left her in the safe hands of the very clever doctor, who has my case under his charge, and Beth is with his family. We can have her down here tomorrow, if you like. Nothing would please me better, Vera said fervently, and now I want to know if you have done anything or formed any plan for getting rid of Mark Fenwick. I shall not be able to breathe here until he is gone. Lyphineau explained that they had come to no conclusion at present. He was quite alive to the fact that the lay was dangerous, seeing that Lord Merton's agents would have to communicate with him by telegram, and that the owner of the house might be back again at any moment. Therefore, it was absolutely necessary that something should be done in the matter of Mark Fenwick without loss of time. Vera indicated her companion. That is why I brought Gerald here, she said. I thought he might be able to help us. He knows all sorts and conditions of people, and it is probable that he may be able to find an asylum in London where the wretched man upstairs can hide till it is quite safe to get him out of the way. I think I can manage that part of the program. Venner said, There is an old servant of mine living down Poplar Way with his wife, who will do anything I ask him. The man has accompanied me all over the world, and he is exceedingly handy in every way. Those people would take a larger to oblige me. And when you come to think of it, Poplar is not at all a bad place for anybody who wants to get out of the country without being observed. It is close to the river, and all sorts of craft are constantly coming up and down. What do you think of the idea? Excellent! Evors cried. Couldn't be better. Do you think those people would mind if you looked them up very late tonight? Not in the least, Venner said. There is only one drawback, and that is the danger of travelling. Lyffin used suggested that the difficulty could be easily overcome by the use of Fenwick's motor, which, fortunately, the detectives had brought back with them when they came in search of the culprit. It was an easy matter to rig Fenwick up in something suggestive of a feminine garb and smuggle him out into the grounds and thence to the stable where the motor was waiting. Fenwick came downstairs presently, a pitiable object. His mind still seemed wandering, but he braced himself up and became a little more like his old self when the plan of action was explained to him. Vera drew a deep breath of relief when once the man was outside the house. Thank God! We shall never see him again, she said fervently, and now I believe I could eat something. It is the first time that the idea of food has been pleasant to me for days. Meanwhile, Venner and Fenwick were speeding along in the car towards London. Perhaps it was the knowledge that safety lay before him. Perhaps it was the exhilaration caused by the swift motion of the car, but Fenwick became more and more like himself as they began to near the metropolis. This is very kind of you," he said, considering you are a stranger to me, if you only knew my unfortunate story. I know your story perfectly," Venner said coldly. You see, I had the pleasure of the friendship of the late Mr. George Lyfennu, and Mr. Evors and the younger Mr. Lyfennu are also known to me, not to be behindhand in exchanging confidence for confidence. I may also say that your niece, Vera, is my wife. Fenwick said no more, for which Venner was profoundly grateful. They came at length to the little house in Poplar, where Fenwick was smuggled in, and a certain part of the story confided to a seafaring man and his comfortable motherly wife, who professed themselves ready and willing to do anything that Venner asked them. Give him a sitting-room and a bedroom," Venner said, and take this ten-pone note and buy him a rough workman's wardrobe in the morning, as if you were purchasing it for yourself. Let him lie low here for a day or two, and I will write you instructions. As to myself, I must get back to Canterbury without delay. Trembling with a sort of fearful joy, Fenwick found himself presently in a comfortable sitting-room at the back of the house. He noted the cleanliness of the place and his heart lightened within him. Something of his own stern, self-reliant courage was coming back to him. His busy mind began to plan for the future. Presently he was conscious of a healthy desire to eat and drink. In response to his ring, the landlady informed him that she had some cold meat in the house, and that it was not yet too late to send out for some wine if he desired it. Very well, Fenwick said in high good humor, give me the cold meat and ask your husband to get me a bottle of brandy. I shall feel all the better for a thorough wash, and don't be long, my good woman, for I have never been so hungry in my life as I am now. Fenwick returned to the sitting-room a few minutes later to find a decent meal spread out for him. There was cheese and butter and some cold meat under a metal cover. A bottle of brandy stood by the side of Fenwick's plate with a siphon of soda water. He took a hearty pull of the mixture. The generous spirit glowed in his veins. He would cheat the world yet. And now for the food, he said, I trusted his beef. Nothing like beef on occasions like this, also. He raised the cover from a dish. Then he jumped to his feet with a snarling oath. He could only stand there trembling in every limb with a fascinated gaze on the dish before him. God help me! he whispered. There is no getting away from it. The last warning, the fourth finger. End of Chapter 26 Chapter 27 of The Mystery of the Four Fingers This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Mystery of the Four Fingers by Fred M. White Chapter 27 Nemesis For a long space of time Fenwick stood there, his head buried in his hands. All the way through he had never been able to disguise from himself the feeling that, sooner or later, this dread thing must happen. Years ago he had taken his life in his hands in exploring the recesses of the four-finger mine. He had more or less known what he had to expect, for the mine had been a sacred thing, almost a part of the religion of the diminishing tribe which had imparted the secret to Lyphynu, and any intruder was bound to suffer. So far as Fenwick knew, the last survivor of this tribe was Felix Arie. Leaving out of account altogether the latter's religious fanaticism, he had been deeply and sincerely attached to the family of Lyphynu, and now he was playing the part of the avenging genius. All these things came back to Fenwick as he sat there. He knew full well the character of the man he had to deal with. He knew how clever and resourceful Felix Arie was. Hitherto he had scorned the suggestion that there was some mysterious magic behind Arie's movements, but now he did not know what to think. All he knew was that he was doomed, and that all the police in the metropolis could not shield him from the reach of Arie's long arm. And here indeed was proof positive of the fact, two hours before nobody, not even Fenwick himself, knew that he would spend the night at the little house in Poplar, and here was Arie already upon his track, almost before he had started on the long journey which was intended to lead to the path of safety. Fenwick never troubled to think what had become of the meal prepared for him, or how the extraordinary change had been brought about. Gradually as he sat there something like strength and courage came back to him. On woodmite he would not yield. He would not surrender himself into the hands of the foe without a struggle. He replaced the cover on the dish and rang the bell for his landlady. She came in a moment later, comfortable and smiling, the very picture of respectable middle age. As Fenwick glanced at her he had once acquitted her of any connection with his final warning. I am sorry to trouble you, he said, but I should like to know if you have any other lodgers. You see, I am rather a bad sleeper, suffering a great deal from nightmare, and I should not like to alarm your other lodgers in the middle of the night. Lord bless you, sir, the woman said. We haven't any lodgers at all. We don't need to take them, seeing that my man is comfortably fixed. Of course we are pleased to do anything we can for you, but we shouldn't have had you here at all if it hadn't been to please Mr. Venner. We'd do anything for him. No doubt, Fenwick said hastily, I suppose your husband sees a good many of his old friends occasionally. No, he doesn't, the woman replied. I don't suppose we have had anybody in the house, except yourself, for the last two months. I hope you have enjoyed your supper, sir. Oh, yes, Fenwick stammered. I finished all the meat. There is one more thing I should like to ask you. I shall have to go out presently. Late as it is, do you happen to have such a thing as a latchkey? If you haven't, the key of the front door will do. The latchkey was forthcoming, and presently Fenwick heard his landlord and his wife going upstairs to bed. He did not feel comfortable until he had crept all over the house and seen that everything was made secure. Then he sat down to think the matter out. Twice he helped himself liberally to Brandy. A third time his hand went mechanically to the bottle, then he drew back. I mustn't have any more of that, he said. It would be simply playing into the hands of the fiend who is pursuing me. As a resolution that cost him an effort Fenwick locked the Brandy away in a cupboard and threw the key out of the window. In his present state of mind he dared not trust himself too far. Partially divesting himself of his clothing he drew from about his waist a soft leather belt containing pockets, and from these pockets he produced a large amount of gold coins and a packet of banknotes. Altogether there were some hundreds of pounds, and Fenwick congratulated himself on the foresight which had led him to adopt this plan in case necessity demanded it. He had enough and more than enough to take him to the other side of the world if only he could manage to get rid of Felix Zary. His mind was made up at length. He would creep out of the house in the dead of night and make his way down to the docks. At every hour ships of various size and tonnage put out of the port of London, and no doubt the skipper of one of these, for a consideration, would take him wherever he wanted to go, and Fenwick knew, moreover, that there were scores of public houses along the side of the river which are practically never closed, and which are run entirely for the benefit of seafaring men. It would be easy to make inquiries at some of these and discover what vessels were leaving by the next tide, and a bargain could be struck immediately. So far as Fenwick was concerned he inclined towards a sailing ship bound for the Argentine. His spirits rose slightly at the prospect before him. His step was fairly light and buoyant as he proceeded in the direction of his bedroom. There was no light in the room, so that he had to fumble about in his pockets for a box of matches, which fell from his fingers and dropped onto the floor. Confound it! Fenwick muttered, where are they? Don't trouble, a calm, quiet voice said out of the darkness. I have matches, with which I will proceed to light the gas. Fenwick could have cried aloud, had he been physically able to do so. There was no reason for a light to be struck, or the gas to be lighted so that he might see the face of the speaker. Indeed, he recognized the voice far too well for that. A moment later he was gazing at the impassive face of Felix Harry. You did not expect to see me, the latter said. You were under the impression that you were going to get away from me. Never did man make a greater mistake. It matters little what you do. It will matter nothing to you or anybody else in twelve hours from now. Do you realize the fact that you have but that time to live? Do you understand that? You would murder me? Fenwick said hoarsely. You may calm yourself on that score. You are unarmed and I have not so much as a pocket knife in my possession. I shall not lay a hand upon you. I shall not peril my soul for the sake of a creature like you. There are other ways and other methods of which you know nothing. How did you get here? Fenwick asked hoarsely. How did you put that dreadful thing on my table? Zary smiled in a strange, bland fashion. He could have told Fenwick prosaically what a man with a grasp like his could do, in connection with a water pipe. He could have told also how he had dogged and watched his victim within the last few hours, with the personacity of a bloodhound. But Zary could see how Fenwick was shaken and dazed by some terrible thing which he could not understand. It was no cue of Zary's to enlighten the miserable man opposite. There are things utterly beyond your comprehension, he said calmly. If you look back to the past, you will remember how we laid our mark upon the man who stole the forefinger mine. That man, I need not say, was yourself. To gain your ends you did not scruple to take the life of your greatest friend, the greatest benefactor you ever had. You thought the thing out carefully, you devised a cunning scheme whereby you might become rich and powerful, at the expense of George Lefonieux, and scarcely was the earth dry upon his coffin before your warnings came. You knew the legend of the forefinger mine, and you elected to defy it. A week went by, a week during which you took the gold from the mine, and all seemed well with you. Then you woke one morning to find that in the night you had lost your forefinger, without the slightest pain, and with very little loss of blood. That was the first sign of the vengeance of the genius of the mine. Shaken and frightened as you were, you hardened your heart, like pharaoh of old, and determined to continue. Another week passed, and yet another finger vanished in the same mysterious fashion. Still, you decided to stand the test, and your third warning came. With the fourth warning your nerves utterly gave way, and you fled from the mine with less ill-gotten gain than you had expected. It matters nothing to me what followed afterwards, but you will admit that at the present moment you have not benefited much by your crime. I have nothing more to say to you. I only came here to-night just to prove to you how impossible it is for you to hide from the vengeance of the mine in your last bitter moments I want you to think of my words and realize. As Zary spoke he moved across the room in the direction of the gas bracket. He laid his hand upon the tap. Any moment later the room was in darkness. There was a sound like the sliding of a window, followed by a sudden rush of cold air, and by the time that Fenwick had found his matches and lighted the gas again, there was not so much as a trace of Zary to be seen. I wish I hadn't thrown away the key of that cupboard. Fenwick said hoarsely, I would give half I possess for one drop of brandy now. Still, I won't give in. I won't be beaten by that fellow. At any rate, he can't possibly know what I intend to do. He could not know that I shall be on board a vessel before morning. Half an hour later Fenwick left the house and made his way straight to the docks. At a public house in the vicinity he obtained the brandy that he needed so badly and felt a little stiffened and braced up by the spirit. He found presently the thing he wanted in the shape of a large bark bound for the river plate. The skipper, a burly-looking man with an enormous black beard, was abhoriously drunk, but not quite so intoxicated that he could not see the business side of a bargain. Oh, you want to go out with me, mister, he said. Well, that's easily enough managed. We've got no passengers on board, and you'll have to rough it with the rest of us. I don't mind taking you on for fifty pounds. That's a lot of money, Fenwick protested. The black-bearded skipper winked solemnly at the speaker. There's always a risk in dealing with stolen goods, he said. Besides, fifty pounds isn't much for a man who wants to get out of the country as badly as I see you do. And once I have passed my word to do it, I'll see you safe through, and so will my crew. Or I'll know the reason why. Now, my yellow pal, fork out that money, and in half an hour you'll be as safe as if you're on the other side of the heron pond, and not a policeman in London will know where to find you. Now, is it a bargain or not? Fenwick made no further demur. He accepted the conditions there and then. There was nothing to be gained by affecting to pose as an honest man, and he was a little frightened to find how easily this drunken ruffian had spotted him for a fugitive from justice. I can't give you the money just now, he whispered. I've got it concealed about me, and to produce a lot of cash in a mixed company like this would be too dangerous. The skipper nodded and proposed further refreshment. Fenwick agreed eagerly enough. He was feeling desperate now, and he did not seem to care much what happened to him. He could afford to place himself entirely in the hands of the black-bearded skipper, who would look after him closely for his own sake. After all, said and done, he had no cause to doubt the honesty of the seamen, who appeared to be fairly popular with his companions, and well known in the neighborhood. It was the best part of an hour before the commander of the bark staggered to his feet and announced in an incoherent voice that it was time to get aboard. Presently they were straggling down to the dock, Fenwick propping up his companion and wondering if the latter was sober enough to find his way to his ship. It was very dark, a thin rain had begun to fall, and the waters of the river were ruffled by an easterly breeze. The skipper stumbled down a flight of steps and into a roomy boat, which was prevented from capsizing by something like a miracle. Presently they came alongside the black hull of a vessel, and Fenwick found himself climbing up a greasy ladder onto a dirty deck, where two seamen were passing the time playing a game of cards. Down below, the skipper indicated a stuffy little bunk leading out of his own cabin, which he informed Fenwick would be placed at his disposal for the voyage. If you don't mind, I'll turn in now, the latter said. I'm dead tired and worn out. My nerves are all jumping like red-hot wires. Do you think I shall be safe here? Safe as houses, the skipper said, and besides, we'll be dropping down the river in about an hour. Just as he was, Fenwick rolled into the bunk, and in a moment was fast asleep. When he came to himself again, the vessel was pitching and rolling. He could hear the rattling creak of blocks and rigging. There was a sweeter and fresher atmosphere in the little cabin. A sense of elation possessed the fugitive. It seemed to him that he was absolutely safe at last. The skipper had evidently gone on deck after having finished his breakfast. For the plates lay about the table, and some tepid coffee in a tin had apparently been left for the use of the passenger. I don't think much of this, Fenwick muttered. Still, I daresay I can better it if I pay for it. I'll go on deck presently, and see what the Blackbearded Pirate has to say. At any rate, I'm absolutely safe now, and can afford to laugh at the threats of Felix Zary, if that man thinks. Fenwick paused, and the knife and fork he was holding over the cold bacon fell from his hands. It was too cruel, the irony of fate too bitter. For there, just in front of him, propped up by the sugar-basin, was the cabinet photograph of the very man who was uppermost in his thoughts. It was Felix Zary to the life, the same calm, philosophic features, the same great round eyes like those of a Persian cat. It all came back to Fenwick now, the whole horror of the situation. His head whirled, and spots seemed to dance before his eyes. A string snapped somewhere in his brain. Zary was behind him, he thought, close behind him like an avenging fury. With a horrid scream, Fenwick tumbled up the stairs onto the slippery deck. All around him was a wild waste of white waters. The ship healed over as Fenwick darted to the side. CHAPTER XXVIII. EXPLANATIONS. Night was beginning to fight with mourning by the time that Venner returned to Merton Grange. There was no one to be seen. The house was in total darkness, so that Venner placed the motor in the stable and returned to his own rooms. On the whole he was disposed to congratulate himself upon the result of his night's work. It mattered very little to himself or anybody else what became of Fenwick, now that he was once out of the way. He was never likely to trouble them again, and as far as Venner could see he was now in a position openly to claim his wife before all the world. Despite his feeling of happiness Venner slept but badly, and a little after ten o'clock the next morning found him back at Merton Grange. Evors greeted him cordially, with the information that he alone was up as yet, and that the others had doubtless taken advantage of the opportunity to get a good night's rest. And you will see, my dear fellow, he said, how necessary such a thing is. Goodness knows how long it is since I went to bed with my mind absolutely at rest. The same remark applies with equal force, to mislefin you, uh, I mean your wife. I can quite understand that, Venner said. It has been much the same with me, though I must confess that I was so happy last night that I could not sleep at all. By the way, have you any information as to your father's movements? He probably knows by this time that his house has been given over to a gang of swindlers. He does, Evors said. I have had a telegram from him this morning to say that he will be home sometime in the course of the day, and to tell the truth I am looking forward with some dread to meeting my father. But I think I shall be able to convince him now that I am an earnest and that I am anxious to settle down in the old place and take my share in the working of the estate. When my father sees Beth and knows her story, I am sanguine that he will give us a welcome and that my adventures will be over. I want him to meet Beth down here, and last night after you had gone, and we were talking matters over, Vera promised to go up to town to-day, and fetch her sister. By the way, what has become of your friend? Gerdon, I think his name is? I mean the fellow who very nearly lost his life. The night he fell down the cellar trap, and found himself landed in the house in Portsmouth Square. Oh, Gerdon's all right! Venner laughed. I hope you will have the chance of making his acquaintance in the course of the day. You seem to have been in Charles Liffenew's confidence for some time. Tell me, why all that mystery about the house in Portsmouth Square? Of course, I don't mean Liffenew's reason for calling himself Bates, and all that kind of thing, because that was perfectly obvious. Under the name of Bates, he was lying low and maturing his plans for crushing Fenwick. As a matter of fact, Fenwick was almost too much for him. Indeed, he would have been if Gerdon and myself had not interfered, and given both of you a chance to escape. It was a very neat idea of Fenwick's to kidnap a man and keep him a prisoner in his own house. Yes, Evor said, and he used his own house for illegal purposes. But before I answer your question, let me ask you one. Why was Gerdon prowling about Portsmouth Square that night? That is quite easily explained, Venner replied. I sent him. To go back to the beginning of things, I have to revert to the night when I first saw Mark Fenwick at the Great Empire Hotel, posing as a millionaire and having for company a girl who passed as his daughter. Seeing that this pseudo-Miss Fenwick was my own wife, you can imagine how interested I was. She has already told in your hearing the reason why she left me on our wedding day, and if I am satisfied with those reasons, it is nothing to do with anybody. As a matter of fact, I am satisfied with them, and there is no more to be said. But when I ran against Vera again at the hotel, I knew nothing of past events, and I made an effort to find out the cause of her apparently strange conduct. In a way, she was fighting against me. She would tell me nothing, and I had to find out everything for myself. On the night in question, I sent Gerdin to Portsmouth Square, and he had the misfortune to portray himself. It nearly ended in his death, Eivor said soberly. Charles Le Fenu was very bitter just about that time. You can quite understand how it was that he mistook Gerdin for one of Fenwick's spies, but why did he go there? He followed my wife, and there you have the simple explanation of the whole thing. But you have not yet told me why those two or three rooms were furnished in the empty house. Who told you about that? Eivor's asked. What a chap you are to ask questions! We got into the empty house after the so-called bates was supposed to have been kidnapped, and to our surprise, we found that all that fine furniture had vanished. There was no litter of straw or sign of removal outside, so we came to the conclusion that it had been conveyed from one house to the other. After a good deal of trouble, we lit upon a movable panel, and by means of it entered the house where you and Le Fenu were practically prisoners. We were on the premises when you managed to get the better of that man in the carpet slippers and his companion. We heard all that took place in the drawing room between Fenwick and Beth and Le Fenu. In fact, we aided and abetted in getting the police into the house. You will recollect how cleverly Le Fenu managed the rest, and how he and you got away from the house without causing any scandal. That was very smartly done. But come, are you going to tell me the story of the empty house, and why it was partly furnished? I think I can come to that now, Evor said. The whole thing was born in the ingenious brain of Felix Zary. He was going to lay some sort of trap for Fenwick, but we shall never know what it was now, because fate has disposed of Fenwick in some other way. Now, won't you sit down and have some breakfast with me? At the same moment Vera came in. Familiar as her features were, and well as Venor knew her, there was a brightness and sweetness about her now that he had never noticed before. The clouds seemed to have lifted from her face. Her eyes were no longer sad and somber. They were beaming with happiness. I am so glad you have come, she said. We want you to know all that happened last night after you had gone. Venor explained that he knew pretty well all that had taken place, as he had been having it all out with Evors. What he wanted now was to get Vera to himself, and presently he had his way. We are going for a long walk, he said, where I have something serious to say to you. Now that you have no longer any troubles on your shoulders, I can be very firm with you. Not just yet, Vera laughed. Later on you can be as firm as you like, and we are not going for a long walk, either. We shall just have time to get to the station and catch the eleven-fifteen to Victoria. I am going up to London today to bring Beth down here. I think the change will do her good. Of course we can't remain in the house, so I have taken rooms for the three of us at a farm close by. When Beth has had everything explained to her and knows that the man she loves is free, you will see a change for the better in the poor child. There is nothing really the matter with her mind, and when she realizes her happiness, she will soon be as well as any of us. You will come with me to London, Gerald? My dearest girl, of course I will, Venor said. I will do anything you like. Let us get these things pushed through as speedily as possible, so that we can start on our honeymoon, which has been delayed for a trifling matter of three years, and you cannot say that I have been unduly impatient. Vera raised herself on her toes and threw her arms around her husband's neck. She kissed him twice. There were tears in her eyes, but there was nothing but happiness behind the tears, as Venor did not fail to notice. You have been more than good, she whispered. Ah, if you only knew how I have missed you, how terrified I was, lest you should take me at my word and abandon me to my fate, as you had every right to do. And yet, all the time, I had a curious feeling that you trusted me, though I dared not communicate with you and tell you where you could send me so much as a single line. I was fearful lest a passionate appeal from you should turn me from my purpose. You see, I had pledged myself to fight the battle for Beth and her lover, and for the best part of three years I did so. And the strangest part of it all is that you, my husband, from whom I concealed everything, should be the very one who eventually struck straight to the heart of the mystery. Yes, that is all right enough, Venor smiled, but why could you not have confided in me in the first instance? Do you think that I should have refused to throw myself, heart and soul, into the affair, and do my best to help those who were dear to you? I suppose I lost my head, Vera murmured, but do not let us waste too much time regretting the last three years, and do not let us waste too much time at all, or we shall lose our train. That is bringing one back to earth with a vengeance! Venor laughed, but come along and let us get all the business over, and we can look eagerly forward to the pleasure of afterwards. It was all done at length. The long explanation was made in the West End Doctor's drawing-room, and at length Beth seemed to understand the complicated story that was told her. She listened very carefully, her questions were well chosen, then she flung herself face downwards on the couch where she was seated, and burst into a passion of weeping. Vera held her head tenderly, and made a sign to Venor that he should leave them together. This is the best thing that could happen, she whispered. If you will come back in an hour's time, you will see an entirely different girl. Don't speak to her now. It was exactly as Vera had predicted, for when Venor returned presently to the drawing-room he found a bright, alert little figure, clad in furs and eager for her journey. She danced across the room to Venor, and held up her lips for him to kiss them. I understand everything now, she cried. Vera has told me absolutely everything how good and noble it was of her to sacrifice her happiness for the sake of Charles and myself, and how wicked I must have been ever to think that Charles could have been guilty of that dreadful crime. Ever since then there has been a kind of cloud over my mind, a certain sense of oppression that made everything dim before my eyes. I could not feel, I could not even shed a tear. I seem to be all numb and frozen, and when the tears came just now, all the ice melted away, and I became myself again. Don't you think I look quite different? I think you look as if you would be all the better, for a lot of care and fussing. Venor said, you want to go to some warm spot and be petted like a child. Now let us go and say goodbye to these good friends of yours, and get down to Canterbury. There is somebody waiting for you there, who will bring back the roses to your pale cheeks a great deal better than I can. Isn't Mr. Gerdin coming with us? Vera asked. He can't, Venor explained. I've just been telephoning to him, and he says that he can't come down till the last train. He will just look in presently after dinner. He is sharing my rooms with me, but hadn't we better get along? Canterbury was reached at length, and then Merton Grange, where Lyphynu and Ivor's were waiting in the portico. Lord Merton had not yet arrived. Indeed, Ivor's explained that it was very uncertain whether he would get there that night or not. Not that it makes any difference, he said eagerly. Of course, you will all dine with me. For my part I can't see why you shouldn't stay here altogether. What, Vera cried, without a chaperone? I like that, Lyphynu explained. What do you call yourself? Have you so soon forgotten the fact that you are a staid married woman? What do you think of that, Venor? Vera laughed and blushed softly. She was not thinking so much now of her own happiness, as of the expression of joy and delight on the face of her sister. Beth had hung back a little shyly from Ivor's as they crossed the hall, and he, in his turn, was constrained and awkward. Very cleverly, Vera managed to detach her husband and her brother from the others. Let them go into the dining-room, she whispered. It doesn't matter what becomes of us. But is she really equal to the excitement of it? Lyphynu asked anxiously. She must have had an exceedingly trying day. I am quite sure that she is perfectly safe, Vera said. Of course she was terribly excited and upset at first, but she was quite calm and rational all the way down, as Gerald will tell you. All Beth wants now is quiet and change, and to feel that her troubles are over. Let's go and have tea in that grand old hall. If the others don't care to come into tea, we will try not to be offended. The others did not come into tea. Neither were they seen till it was nearly time to dress for dinner. Assuredly, Vera had proved a true prophet, for Beth's shy, quiet air of happiness indicated that she had suffered nothing through the events of the day. It was a very quiet meal they had later on, but nonetheless pleasant for that. Dinner had come to an end and the cigarettes were on the table before Gerdon appeared. He carried a copy of an evening paper in his hand, and despite his usual air of calmness and indifference, there was just the suspicion of excitement about him that caused Venor to stand up and reach for the paper. You have news there for us, I am sure, he said. I think we are all in a position to stand anything you like to tell us. You have guessed it correctly, Gerdon said. It is all here in the Evening Herald. What is all there, Le Fenu demanded? Can't you guess? Gerdon asked. I see you can't. It is the dramatic conclusion, the only conclusion of the story. Our late antagonist Fenwick has committed suicide. End of Chapter 28 Chapter 29 of The Mystery of the Four Fingers This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Mystery of the Four Fingers by Fred M. White Chapter 29 The Mortal Coil It cannot be said that Gerdon's announcement caused any particular sensation. To all those who knew anything about the inner history of the Four Finger Mine, the conclusion appeared to be perfectly logical. It was Venor who mentioned the secret of the mine before anybody had even the curiosity to ask to see the paper. Do you think that this has been the outcome of anything that Zary did? He asked Le Fenu. You see, as far as I am concerned, I was only in the mine once or twice, and before your father's death my knowledge of its romantic history was limited. I can't altogether bring myself to believe that the mine was haunted by avenging spirits and all that kind of thing. In this twentieth century of ours, one is naturally very cynical about such matters. I really cannot tell you, Le Fenu replied. Of course, there must be human agency afoot. Zary always declared that he was the last of his tribe, and when he died the secret of the mine would belong to our family alone. As a matter of fact, my father died first, so that Zary alone is in possession of the strange secret of that dread place. One thing is very certain. It was none of us who took vengeance on a Dutchman who murdered my father. Who was responsible for that, I do not know. Still, there was something very terrible and awe-striking about the way in which the Dutchman's fingers returned to his wife, one by one. I should like to have known also how Fenwick lost his fingers. But Zary would never tell me. I think he professed that it had been done through the agency of the spirits of his departed ancestors who guarded the mine. Mind you, I don't say that it is impossible, for we are beginning to understand that there are hidden forces in nature which till quite recently were a sealed book to us. It is no use speculating about the matter, because we shall never know. Zary has always been fond of us, but I have a feeling now that we shall never see him again. I believe he came to England on purpose to accomplish the death of Mark Fenwick, and you may rely upon it that he will vanish now without making any further sign. That is more than possible, Gerdon said thoughtfully. But so far as I can judge from what this paper says, Fenwick's death seems to have been prosaic enough. Perhaps I had better redo the account in the newspaper. Without waiting for any further permission, Gerdon began to read aloud. Strange Suicide in the Channel. Death of Mr. Mark Fenwick. Late this afternoon, the bark British Queen put back into the port of London with the schooner Red Cross in tow. It appears that the barking question was bound for the river plate, and had dropped down the river with the morning tide. Outside the mouth of the Thames, she had encountered exceedingly squally weather, so much so that she had lost a considerable amount of running gear owing to the gusty and uncertain condition of the wind. About eleven o'clock in the morning, an extra-violent squall struck the vessel, and the skipper, Luther Jones, decided to put back again and wait till the next tide. It was at this point that the Red Cross was sighted, making signals of distress. At considerable hazard to himself and his crew, the skipper of the British Queen managed to get the schooner in tow, and worked her up the river on a short sail. This in itself is simply an incident illustrating the perils of the sea, and merely leads up to the dramatic events which follow. It appears, according to Captain Jones' statement, that very early this morning, a man called upon him in a public house, and demanded to know what he would require for a passage to the river plate. Satisfactory terms having been arranged, the stranger came aboard the British Queen, and immediately repaired to his bunk. So far as the captain could see, his passenger was exceedingly reticent, and desirous of avoiding publicity. In fact, the skipper of the British Queen put him down as a fugitive from justice. All the same he asked no questions, presumably he had been well content to hold his tongue, and return for a liberal fee in the way of passage money. So far as Captain Jones knows, his passenger slept comfortably enough, and it is quite evident that he partook of breakfast in the morning. What happened subsequently, it is somewhat difficult to say, for Captain Jones was busy on his own deck looking after the safety of his ship. These events took place shortly before the Red Cross was sighted. It was at this time that Captain Jones believed that he heard a shrill scream coming from the cabin, as if his passenger had met with an accident, or had been frightened by something out of the common. He came on deck a moment later, looking like a man who had developed a dangerous mania. He seemed to be flying from some unseen terror, and indeed gave every indication suggestive of the conclusion that he was suffering from a severe attack of delirium tremens. Captain Jones does not share this view, though it is generally accepted by his crew. Before anybody could interfere or stretch out a hand to detain the unfortunate man, he had reached the side of the vessel and thrown himself into the tremendous sea that was running at the time. It was absolutely out of the question to make any attempt to save him, though naturally Captain Jones did what he could. Then occurred one of the strange things which so frequently happened at sea. Five minutes later a great wave breaking over the foredeck cast some black object at the feet of Captain Jones, which object turned out to be the body of the unhappy suicide. The man was quite dead. Indeed he had sustained enough bodily injuries to cause death without taking drowning into consideration. As before stated, Captain Jones came in contact with the Red Cross a little later and on reaching the safety of the pool he immediately communicated with the police, who took possession of the body of the suicide. On Scotland Yard being communicated with, a detective was sent down and immediately recognized the body as that of Mr. Mark Fenwick, the American millionaire. No doubt is entertained that the police officer is right, as Mr. Fenwick is well known to thousands of people in London, not only an account of his wealth, but owing also to his remarkable personal appearance. At the present moment the body lies in a public house by the side of the Thames and an inquest will be held in the morning. Later, since going to press, we hear that startling developments are expected in the matter of the suicide of Mr. Mark Fenwick. On excellent authority we are informed that the police halt a warrant for the arrest of Fenwick and others on a series of criminal charges, among which that of uttering counterfeit coin is not the least prominent. If these facts prove to be correct, it will be easy to see why Mr. Fenwick was attempting to leave the country in fugitive fashion. Further details will appear in a later edition. That is the whole of the story, Gordon said when he had concluded. On the whole, I should say that Mark Fenwick is very well out of it. He has had a pretty fair innings, but fate has been too strong for him in the long run. It is just as well, too, that he has escaped his punishment. I mean, for your sakes, more than anything else. If that man had been put upon his trial, a charge of murder would have been added sooner or later, and you would all have been dragged from police court to criminal court to give evidence over and over again. In fact, you would have been the centre of an unpleasant amount of vulgar curiosity. As it is, the inquest will be more or less of a formal affair, and the public will never know that Fenwick has been anything more than a common swindler. Vanner was emphatically of the same view. Personally, he was exceedingly glad to think that the knot had been cut in this fashion and that the unpleasant business was ended. He discussed the matter thoughtfully with Gordon, as he in the latter walked in the direction of his rooms, for he had refused to spend the night at Merton Grange, though Vera of necessity had arranged to stay there. I suppose one ought to be thankful, he said, that matters are no worse. Still, at the same time, I must confess that I should like to have a few words with Zari. I wonder if we could get him to take us back to Mexico with a view to exploring the Four Finger Mine. After all said and done, it seems a pity that that rich treasure-house should be lost to the world. Better leave it alone, Gordon said. It makes me creep when I think of it. All the same, I am with you in one thing. I should certainly like to see Zari again. Gordon and his companion were destined to have their wish gratified, sooner than they had expected. They let themselves into the farmhouse where they were staying, and Venor turned up the lamp in the big rambling sitting-room. There, half asleep in a chair before the fire, sat the very man whom they had been discussing. He appeared to be heavy with sleep, his melancholy eyes open slowly as he turned to the newcomers. You have been thinking about me, he said. You have been wondering what had become of me. We are strangers, and yet we are not strangers. Mr. Venor is known to me, and Mr. Venor's wife also. I was aware that my dear young mistress was his wife, when it was still a secret to everybody else. You are puzzled and mystified over the death of Mark Fenwick. Mr. Gordon has been reading an account to you, from a newspaper. You are certainly a very remarkable man, Gordon said. As a matter of fact, that is exactly what I have been doing. But tell me, Zari, how did you know? You have a great poet, Zari said, calmly and deliberately. He was one of the noblest philosophers of his time. I have read him. I hope to read him again many times. His name is Shakespeare, and he says, There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy." Gentlemen, that is so. As you would know if you possess the powers I do. But I could not explain. You would not understand, for your minds are different from mine. I am going away. I shall never see my dear friends again. For the last time we have met. And because I could not endure a formal parting, I have come to you, to give them all a message from me. It is only this. That I shall never cease to think of them wherever I may be. But I need not dwell upon that. As to Fenwick, I did not design that he should die so peaceful a death. I had gauged his mind incorrectly. I had goaded him into a pitch of terror which drove him over the borderland and destroyed his reason. Therefore he committed suicide, and so he has finished with. There was a pause for some time until it became evident that Zari had no more to say. He rose to his feet and was advancing in the direction of the door when Girdon stopped him. Pardon me, the latter said, but like most ordinary men, I am by no means devoid of my fair share of curiosity. What is going to be done in the matter of the forefinger mind? Zari's large round eyes seem to emit flashes of light. His face had grown hard and white like that of a statue. Well, he demanded, what about the mind? Why, you see, it practically belongs to Mr. Liffin's children, Girdon said, in which case it should prove an exceedingly valuable property. The mind belongs to us, it belongs to me. Zari cried, I am the last of my tribe, and the secret shall die with me. Man, do you suppose that happiness lies in the mere accumulation of money? I tell you, that the thing is a curse, one of the greatest curses that ever God laid on humanity. To hundreds and thousands of us, this life of ours on earth is a veritable hell, through the greed for gold. Of all the wars that have brought pain and suffering to humanity, none has done a tithe of the harm wrought by the incessant battle for the yellow metal which you call gold. If there had been no such thing on earth, the tribe to which I belong would today walk as gods amongst ordinary men. No, I shall do nothing to pander to this disease, when I die the secret of the mind perishes with me. Nevermore will man work there, as long as I have the health and strength to prevent it. The latter part of Zari's speech had sunk almost to a whisper. He made a profound bow to Venor and Girdon, then left the room softly. He seemed to vanish, almost like the spirit of one of his departed ancestors, and his place knew him no more. Curious man, Girdon said thoughtfully, very quiet and gentle as a rule, but not the kind of person you would care to have as a foe. I have a very strong feeling that none of us will ever see Felix Zari again. Now, don't you think we can begin to forget all about this kind of thing? Surely we have had enough horrors and mysteries, and I can only wonder at the way in which those girls have borne up against all their troubles. Tell me, what are you going to do? I mean, as to your future. Upon my word, I really haven't given it a thought, Venor said. It is not very often that a man has the unique experience of being married three years without a honeymoon, and without more than half an hour in his wife's company. You can but feebly guess, my dear fellow, how terribly I have suffered during the time to which I refer. Still, I trusted my wife implicitly, though all the dictates of common sense were against me, and I am sincerely and heartily glad now that I took the line I did. As soon as possible, I intend to take Vera away for a long tour on the continent. When I come back, I shall have the old house done up again, and I suppose settle down to the life of a country gentleman. But, of course, I can't do anything till Beth's future is settled. I suppose, for the present, she will go back again to live and use doctor friends, pending her marriage with Charles Evors. The program is all right, Gerdon said, but suppose Lord Merton objects to the arrangement. I don't fancy he will do that from what I hear, Venor said. All the Evors have been wild in their youth, and the present Lord is no exception to the rule. Depend upon it, he will be very glad to have his son back again, happily married, and eager to become domesticated. Besides, from what I understand from Vera, her father worked the forefinger mind to considerable advantage during his lifetime, and Beth is something quite considerable in the way of an heiress. On the whole, I am not disposed to worry. Now let us have one quiet cigar, and then go to bed like a pair of average, respectable citizens. End of Chapter 29 Upon my word, Evors was saying to Beth, I feel as nervous as an eaten boy set up to the head for a vlogging. It is just the same sensation as I used to enjoy in my school days, but I don't care what he says. I'm going to marry you whether he likes it or not, though of course he is bound to like it. No one could look at that dear, sweet little face of yours without falling in love with you on the spot. Beth demurely hoped so. She pretended an easy unconcern, though on the whole she was perhaps more anxious than Evors, for the latter had written to his father at some length explaining how matters stood, and Lord Merton had telegraphed to say that he would be at home the following afternoon. The afternoon had arrived in due course, and now the wheels of his carriage might be heard at any moment. Vera and her husband were not far off. They had promised to come in and give their moral support if it became necessary. I don't see how he can possibly help liking you, Evors went on. Thank goodness, we shall be spared the trouble of making a long explanation. If my father had been against the arrangement he probably would have done something else, besides telegraphing that he was coming. But I don't care, it doesn't matter what he says. I have quite made up my mind what to do. But you couldn't go against your father, Beth said timidly. Oh, couldn't I? My dear girl, I have been doing nothing else all my lifetime. I have been a most undutiful son, and I have no doubt that I have come near to breaking my father's heart many a time, as he nearly broke the heart of his father before him. In common fairness he will have to admit that we Evors are all alike as young men. And in any case, I couldn't give you up, Beth. Just think how faithful you have been to me all these years, when all the time it has seemed as if I had a terrible crime on my conscience. Your father's death, Beth laid her little hand upon the speaker's mouth. Oh, hush, hush! she whispered. I implore you never to speak of that again. They told me, or at least that dreadful man told me, that you had committed that awful deed. He gave me the most overwhelming proofs. And when I demanded a chance to speak to you and hear from your own lips that it was all a cruel lie, you were nowhere to be found. This, Fenwick told me, was proof positive of your guilt. It was such a shock to me that, for the time being, I lost my reason. At least, I did not exactly lose my reason, but my brain just seemed to go to sleep in some strange way. And yet, from first to last, I never believed a word that Mark Fenwick said. There was always present the knowledge that your name would be cleared at last. And the most gratifying part of it all is the knowledge that there can be no scandal, no slanderous tongues to say that there is no smoke without fire, and those wicked things that sound so small and yet imply so much. Don't let us think of it. Let our minds dwell only on the happy future that is before us. We shall be able to marry at once, then we can go and live in the old manor house by the park gates. The place is already furnished and needs very little doing up. Sooner or later you will be mistress of this grand old home. Though I hope that time may not come for many years. It seems to me. But Beth was not attending. She seemed to be listening with more or less fear to the sound of wheels crunching on the gravel outside. Evors had hardly time to reassure her when the door opened and Lord Merton came in. He was a tall man of commanding presence, a little cold and haughty looking, though his lips indicated a genial nature, and he could not altogether suppress the amusement in his eyes. This is an unconventional meeting, he said. I received your letter, Charles, and I am bound to say the contents would have astonished me exceedingly had they been written by anybody but in Evors. But our race has always been a law unto itself with more or less disastrous consequences. We have been a wild and reckless lot, but this is the first time, so far as I know, that one of the tribe has been accused of murder. It is a wicked lie! Beth burst out passionately. She had forgotten all her fears in her indignation. My father was killed by the man Fenwick and his colleagues. This has all been proved beyond a doubt. Lord Merton smiled down upon the flushed, indignant face. It was quite evident that Beth had made a favorable impression upon him. I admire your loyalty and your pluck, he said. My dear child, many a woman has risked her happiness by marrying in Evors. Not one of them did so except in absolute defiance of the advice of their friends. In every case it has been a desperate experiment, and yet I believe, in every case it has turned out perfectly happily. It was the same with Charles' mother. It was the same with my mother. No Evors ever asked permission of his sire to take unto himself a wife. No Evors ever cared about social position. Still, at the same time, I am glad to know that my boy has chosen a lady. When he was quite a young man, I should not have been in the least surprised if he had come home with a flaunting barmaid, or something exquisitely vulgar in the way of a musical artist. Beth laughed aloud. She had quite forgotten her fears now. She was beginning rather to like this caustic old gentleman, whose cynical words were belied by the smile in his eyes. I am very glad to know that you are satisfied with me, she said timidly. It is good to know that. I suppose it would have been all the same in any case, Lord Merton replied with a smile. You would have married Charles, and he would have had to have earned his own living, which would have been an excellent thing for him. Indeed, he wouldn't, Beth laughed. Do you know, Lord Merton, that I am quite a large heiress in my way? I am sure you won't mind my speaking like this, but I feel so happy today that I hardly know what I am saying, if you only knew the dread with which I have been looking forward to meeting you. Oh, they are all like that, Lord Merton laughed. To strangers I am supposed to be a most terrible creature, but everybody on my estate knows how lamentably weak I am. They all take advantage of me and bully me, even down to the lads and the stable, and I wouldn't disguise from you the satisfaction I feel in the knowledge that you have money of your own. For some considerable time past I have been severely economizing, with a view to paying off some alarming mortgages on the estate, so that I should not have been in a position to allow Charles much in the way of an income. It will be my ambition when my time comes to hand you over the property without a penny owing to anybody. May that day be a long way off, sir, Charles said with feeling. I hope to assure you how I appreciate the noble manner in which you have forgiven. Say no more about it, say no more, Lord Merton said. He seemed to have some little difficulty in the articulation of his words. Let us shake hands on the bargain and forget the past. I was profoundly interested in your long letter, and I must confess to some little curiosity to see your other friends, especially Mrs. Venner, who seems to have played so noble a part in the story. I understand that she and her husband are down here. I suppose you made them more or less comfortable, which must have been a rather difficult undertaking in the circumstances. However, I have arranged to have all the old servants back to-morrow, and it will be some considerable time before I let the old house again, now run away and enjoy yourselves, and let us meet at dinner as if nothing had happened. I don't want it to appear that there has been anything like a quarrel between us. So saying, Lord Merton turned and proceeded to his own room, leaving Beth in a state of almost speechless admiration. It was so different from anything she had expected that she felt as if she could have cried for pure happiness. The sun was shining outside. Through the window she could see the deer wandering in the park. It was good to know that the old dark past was gone, and that the primrose path of happiness lay shining before them. Presently, as they wandered out in the sunshine, Vera came on the terrace and watched them. There was no need to tell her that the interview with the master of the house had been a smooth one. She could judge by the way in which the lovers were walking side by side. Venner came and stood by his wife's side. So it's all right, he said. As far as one can judge, they have managed to propitiate the ogre. What do you mean by calling a man an ogre in his own house? The voice of Lord Merton asked at the same moment. For some few minutes I have been keeping an eye on you two, but I suppose I must introduce myself, though you will guess who I am. Mr. Venner, will you be good enough to do me the honor of introducing me to your wife? I have heard a great deal of her from my son. Mrs. Venner, if you will shake hands with me, I shall esteem it a great favor. Then you are not annoyed with us? Vera asked. You are not displeased at the way we have taken possession of your house? I am afraid that indirectly we have been the cause of a great scandal. Oh, do not worry yourself about that, Lord Merton said breezily. There have been far worse scandals than this in great houses before now, and at any rate it does not touch us. I am afraid you have been rather inconvenienced here, and that the Grange has not upheld his reputation for hospitality. Still, I hope it will be all right to-morrow, and I sincerely trust that you can see your way to stay here for some little time to come. I am going to ask my sister, Lady Glyn, to come down and act the part of hostess. Somebody will have to introduce Beth to the county as my future daughter-in-law. You are pleased with the arrangement? Vera asked merely. Indeed I am, Lord Merton cried. You do not know what an eccentric lot we are. I should not have been at all surprised if Charles had come home with some curiosity in the way of a bride, and I am all too profoundly grateful to find that he has made so sweet a choice. But tell me, you will stay here some little time? I am afraid not, Venor said regretfully. If you allow us to come back a little later on, I am sure my wife and myself will be very pleased. I have no doubt that Evors will be impatient to claim his bride, but I hope he will wait for a month or two at least. You see, I have a bride of my own, though in a way we are old married people. I don't know whether Charles told you anything of our story, but if you would like to hear it. Lord Merton intimated that he had already done so. He expressed a hope that Venor and his wife would return again a little later on. Then, making some excuse, he returned to the house, leaving Venor and Vera together. For some little time they wandered across the park very silently, for the hearts of both were full, and this was one of those moments when words are not necessary to convey thought from one mind to another. Presently Evors and Beth appeared in the distance and joined the others. Well, Venor said with a smile, it is sometimes as I saw two people look more ridiculously happy than you two, but I am sincerely glad to find that the ogre is only one in name. My dear Charles, your father is quite a delightful person. I quite understood, from what you told me, that we had a lot of trouble in store for us. On the contrary, he seems to be as pleased with the course of events as we are. He seems to have altered so much lately, Evors said. At any rate, he has been particularly good to me, and I am not likely to forget it. Behold in me a reformed character, ready to settle down to country life with Beth by my side. Not quite yet, Venor said hastily. You will have to curb your impatience for a bit. You must not forget how Vera has suffered for the sake of you both, and how patiently I waited for my happiness. You must promise us that the marriage will not take place under two months, or I give you a solemn warning that we shall not be there, our own honeymoon. Of course, Charles will promise, Beth said indignantly. Oh! I could never dream of being married, unless Vera were present. And after all, what are two months when you have a whole lifetime before you? I am sure that Charles agrees with me. I don't indeed, Evors said candidly. Still, I am not going to be disagreeable, and Beth knows that she is only to look at me with those imploring eyes of hers to get absolutely her own way. They left it at that, and gradually drifted apart again. When Vera and her husband returned to the Grange, the setting sun shone fully in their faces, flinging their shadows far behind. Venor paused just for a moment under the somber shadow of a clump of beaches, and drew his wife to his side. One moment, he said, we have not yet decided where we are going. I have everything in readiness in London, and I suppose that you are not lacking in the matter of wardrobe. Don't tell me, while having everything that woman can want in the way of dress, that you have nothing to wear. I won't, Vera said softly. My dear boy, can you not see how glad I shall be to be alone with you at last? Everything is going well here, and Beth is entirely happy. You have been very good and patient, and I will keep you waiting no longer. If you so will it, and I think you do, let it be to-morrow. Venor stooped and kissed the trembling lips, held up to his. Then, very silently, their hearts too full for further speech, they turned towards the house.