 Part 2, Chapter 16, of Matamidus. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Matamidus by Fergus Hume. Part 2, Chapter 16. Be sure those sin will find thee out. Matamidus was a remarkably plucky woman, but it needed all her pluck and philosophy to bear up against the terrible calamities which were befalling her. Her faith in human nature was completely destroyed, and she knew that all the pleasure of doing good had gone out of her life. The discovery of Kitty's baseness had wounded her deeply, and she found it difficult to persuade herself that the girl had not been the victim of circumstances. If Kitty had only trusted her when she came to live with her, all this misery and crime would have been avoided, for she would have known Matamidus would never have married Vandaloup, and thus would have had no motive for committing the crime. Regarding Vandaloup's pretensions to her hand, Mrs. Villiers laughed bitterly to herself. After the misery of her early marriage it was not likely she was going to trust herself and her second fortune again to a man's honour. She sighed as she thought what her future life must be. She was wealthy, it was true, but amid all her riches she would never be able to know the meaning of friendship. For all who came near her now would have some motive in doing so, and though Matamidus was anxious to do good with her wealth, yet she knew she could never expect gratitude in return. The comedy of human life is admirable when one is a spectator, but are the actors know they are acting, and have to mask their faces with smiles, restrain the tears which they would feign let flow, and mouth witty sayings with breaking hearts. Surely the most bitter of all feelings is that cynical disbelief in human nature, which is so characteristic of our latest civilisation. Matamidus, however, now that Melbourne was so hateful to her, determined to leave it, and sent up to Mr. Colton in order to confer with him on the subject. Colton came down to St. Kilda, and was shown into the drawing room where Mrs. Villiers, calm and impenetrable looking as ever, sat writing letters. She arose as the barrister entered, and gave him her hand. It was kind of you to come so quickly, she said, in her usual quiet, self-contained manner. I wish to consult you on some matters of importance. I am at your service, Madam, replied Colton, taking a seat, and looking keenly at the marbled face before him. I am glad to see you looking so well, considering what you have gone through. Mrs. Villiers let a shadowy smile flit across her face. They say the red Indian becomes utterly indifference to the torture of his enemies after a certain time, she answered coldly. I think it is the same with me. I have been deceived and disillusioned so completely that I have grown utterly callous, and nothing now can move me either to sorrow or joy. A curious answer from a curious woman, thought Colton, glancing at her as she sat at the writing table in her black dress, with the knots of violet ribbons upon it. What queer creatures experience makes us. Madam Midas folded her hands loosely on the table, and looked dreamily out of the open French window, and at the trellis covered with creeping plants beyond, through which the sun was entering in pencils of golden light. Life would have been so sweet to her if she had only been content to be deceived like other people, but then she was not of that kind. Faith with her was a religion, and when religion is taken away, what remains? Nothing. I am going to England, she said abruptly, to Colton, rousing herself out of these painful reflections. After the trial I presume, observed Colton slowly. Yes, she answered hesitatingly, do you think they will? They will hang the girl. Colton shrugged his shoulders. I can't tell you, he answered, with a harp smiled. If she is found guilty, well, I think she will be in prison for life. Poor Kitty, said Madam sadly. It was an evil hour when you met Banda Loop. What do you think of him, she asked suddenly. He's a scoundrel, returned Colton decisively. Still a clever one, with a genius for intrigue. He should have lived in the times of Borgie and Rome, where his talents would have been appreciated. Now we have lost the art of polite murder. Do you know, said Mrs Villiers musingly, leaning back in her chair, I cannot help thinking Kitty is innocent of this crime. She may be, returned Colton ambiguously, but the evidence seems very strong against her. Purely circumstantial interrupted Madam Midas quickly. Purely circumstantial, as you say, assented Colton. Still some new facts may be discovered before the trial, which may prove her to be innocent. After the mystery which enveloped the death of Oliver White in the handsome cab murder, I hesitate giving a decided answer, in any case till everything has been thoroughly sifted. But, if not, Kitty Marchhurst, whom do you suspect, Banda Loop? No, he wanted to marry me, not to kill me. Have you any enemy then? Who would do such a thing? Yes, my husband, but he is dead. He disappeared, corrected Madam, but it was never proved that he was dead. He was a revengeable, wicked man, and if he could have killed me, without hurting himself, he would, and rising from her seat, she paced up and down the room slowly. I know your sad story, said the barrister, and also how your husband disappeared, but, to my mind, looking at all the circumstances, you will not be troubled with him again. A sudden exclamation made him turn his head, and he saw Madam Midas, white as death, staring at the open French window, on the threshold of which was standing a man, medium height, black beard, and a hugged, hunted look in his eyes. Who is this? cried Kelton, rising to his feet. Madam Midas tottered, and caught at the mantelpiece for support. My husband, she said, in a whisper. Alive, said Kelton, turning to the man at the window. I should rather think so, said Villiers, instantly, advancing into the room. I don't look like a dead man, do I? Madam Midas sprung forward and caught his wrist. So you have come back, murderer, she hissed in his ear. What do you mean? said her husband, wrenching his hand away. Mean, she cried vehemently. You know what I mean. You cut yourself off entirely from me by your attempt on my life, and the theft of the gold. You dare not have showed yourself in case you received the reward of your crime, and so you worked in the dark against me. I knew you were near, though I did not see you, and knew for a second time attempted my life. I did not, muttered Villiers, shrinking back from the indignant blaze of her eyes. I can prove. You can prove, she burst out contemptuously, drawing herself up to her full height. Yes, you can prove anything with your cowardly nature and lying tongue, but prove that you were not the man who came in the dead of night and poisoned the drink waiting for me, which was taken by my nurse. You can prove, yes, as God is my judge. You shall prove it in the prisoner's dock, ere you go to the gallows. During all this terrible speech, Villiers had crowded on the ground, half terrified, while his wife towered over him, magnificent in her anger. At the end, however, he recovered himself a little and begun to bluster. Every man has a right to a hearing, he said defiantly, looking from his wife to Kelton. I can explain everything. Madame Midas pointed to a chair. I have no doubt you will prove black is white, by your line, she said coldly, returning to her seat. I await this explanation. Thereupon Villiers sat down and told them the whole story of his mysterious disappearance and how he had been made a fool of by Vanderloop. When he had ended, Kelton, who had resumed his seat and listened to the recital with deep interest, stole a glance at Madame Midas, but she looked as cold and impenetrable as ever. I understand now the reason of your disappearance, she said coldly, but that is not the point. I want to know the reason you tried to murder me a second time. I did not return Villiers quietly with the gesture of dissent. Then Selina Sprotz, since you are so particular, retorted his wife with a sneer, but it was you who committed the crime. Who says I did, cried Villiers, standing up. No one, putting Kelton, looking at him sharply, but as you had a grudge against your wife, it is natural for her to suspect you. At the same time, it is not necessary for you to discriminate yourself. I am not going to do so, retorted Villiers. If you think I'd be such a fool as to commit a crime and then trust myself to my wife's tender mercies, you are very much mistaken. I am as innocent of the murder as the poor girl who is in prison. Then she is not guilty, cried Mrs Villiers, rising. No, returned Villiers coldly, she is innocent. Oh, indeed, said Kelton quietly. Then if you both are innocent, who is the guilty person? Villiers was about to speak when another man entered the room window. This was none other than Kilsip, who advanced eagerly to Villiers. He has come in at the gate, he said quickly. Have you the warrant, asked Villiers, as a sharp ring was heard at the front door? Kilsip nodded, and Villiers turned on his wife and Kelton, who was too much astonished to speak. You asked me who committed the crime, he said, in a state of suppressed excitement. Look at that door, pointing to the door which led into the hall, and you will see the real murderer of Selena Sprotsapia. Kelton and Madame Midas turned simultaneously, and the seconds seemed like hours as they waited with bated breath for the opening of the fatal door. The same name was on their lips as they gazed with intense expectation, and the name was Gaston van der Loop. The noise of approaching footsteps, a rattle at the handle of the door, and it was flung wide open as the servant announced. Mr. Japa. Yes, there he stood, meek, apologetic, and smiling, the fast-living bank clerk, the darling of society, and the secret assassin, Mr. Bartholomew Japa. He advanced smilingly into the room, when suddenly the smile died away, and his face blanched as his eyes rested on Villiers. He made a step backward as if to fly, but in a moment Kilsip was on him. I arrest you in the Queen's name for the murder of Selena Sprots, and he slipped the handcuffs on his wrists. The wretched young man fell down on the floor with an agonised shriek. It's a lie, it's a lie, he held, beating his manical hands on the carpet. None can prove I did it. What about van der Loop, said Villiers, looking at the writhing figure at his feet, and this proof, holding out the bottle with the red bands. Japa looked up with an expression of abject fear on his white face. Then with a shriek fell back again in a swoon. Kilsip went to the window, and a policeman appeared in answer to his call. Then between them they lifted up the miserable wrench, and took him to a cab which was waiting, and were soon driving off up to the station, whence Japa was taken to the Melbourne Jail. Kelton turned to Madame Midas, and saw that she also had fainted, and was lying on the floor. He summoned the servants to attend her. Then, making Villiers come with him, he went up to his office in town, in order to get the whole story of the discovery of the murderer. The papers were full of it next day, and Villiers' statement, together with Japa's confession, was published side by side. It appeared that Japa had been living very much above his income, and in order to get money, he had forged Mrs Villiers' name for several large amounts. Afraid of being discovered, he was going to throw himself on the mercy and confess all, which he would have done had Madame Midas come to the metal chip's fall. But overhearing the conversation between Kitty and Vanderloop in the conservatory, and seeing the bottle flung out, he thought, if he secured it, he could poison Madame Midas without suspicion, and throw the guilt upon Kitty. He secured the bottle immediately after Vanderloop took Kitty back to the ballroom, and then went down to Sinkilda to commit the crime. He knew the house thoroughly, as he had often been in it, and saw that the window of Madame's room was open. He then put his overcoat on the glass bottles on top of the wall, and left inside, clearing the bushes. He stole across the lawn and stepped over the flower bed, carefully avoiding making any marks. He had the bottle of poison with him, and was apparently quite ignorant how he was to introduce it into the house. But on looking through the parting of the curtains, he saw the glass with the drink on the table. Guessing that Madame Midas was in bed, and would probably drink during the night, he put his hand through the curtains, and poured all the poison into the glass. Then noiselessly withdrew. He jumped over the wall again, put on his overcoat, and thought he was safe. When he found, Monsue Vanderloop was watching him, and had seen him in all his actions. Vanderloop, whose subtle brain immediately saw that if Madame Midas was dead, he could throw the blame on Kitty, and thus get rid of her without endangering himself. Agreeed to keep silent, but made Jarpa give up the bottle to him. When Jarpa had gone, Vanderloop, a few yards further down, met Villiers, but supposed that he had just come on the scene. Villiers, however, had been watching the house all night, and had also been watching metal chips. The reason for this was he thought his wife was at the ball, and went to speak to her. He had followed Kitty and Miss Rilla down to St. Kilda by hanging on to the back of the broam, thinking the latter was his wife. Finding his mistake, he hung round the house for about an hour without any object, and was turning round the corner to go home when he saw Jarpa jump over the wall. And, being unseen in the shadow, overheard the conversation and knew that Jarpa had committed the crime. He did not, however, dare to accuse Jarpa of murder, as he thought it was in Vanderloop's power to denounce him as the assassin of Pierre La Mer. So, for his own safety, kept quiet. When he heard the truth from Kitty in the prison, he would have denounced the Frenchman at once as the real criminal, but was so bewildered by the rapid manner in which Vanderloop made up a case against him, and especially by the bottle being produced out of his pocket, which bottle Vanderloop, of course, had in his hand all the time, that he permitted him to escape. When he left the jail, however, he went straight to the police office and told his story, when a warrant was immediately granted for the arrest of Jarpa. Kilsip took the warrant and went down to St Kilda to Mrs Villiers' house to see her before arresting Jarpa. But, as before described, Jarpa came down to the house on business from the bank and was arrested at once. Of course, there was great excitement over the discovery of the real murderer, especially as Jarpa was well known in Melbourne society, but no one pitied him. In the days of his prosperity he had been obsequious to his superiors and insolent to those beneath him, so that all he gained was the contempt of one and the hate of the other. Luckily he had no relatives whom his crime would have disgraced, and as he had not succeeded in getting rid of Madame Midas, he intended to have run away to South America and had forged a check in her name for a large amount in order to supply himself with funds. Unhappily, however, he had paid that fatal visit and had been arrested, and since then had been in state of object fear, begging and praying that his life might be spared His crime, however, had awakened such indignation that the law was allowed to take its course, so early one, wet cold morning, Barty Jarpa was delivered into the hands of the hangman, and his mean pitiful little soul was launched into eternity. Kitty was, of course, released, but overwhelmed with shame and agony at all her past life, having been laid bare, she did not go to see Madame Midas, but disappeared amid the crowd and tried to hide her infamy from all. Although, poor girl, she was more sinned against than sinning. Vanderloop, for whom a warrant was out for the murder of La Mer, had also disappeared and was supposed to have gone to America. Madame Midas suffered severely from the shocks she had undergone with the discovery of everyone's baseness. She settled a certain income on her husband, on condition she never was to see him again, which offer he readily accepted, and having arranged all her affairs in Australia, she left for England hoping to find in travel some alleviation, if not forgetfulness, of the sorrow of the past. A good woman, a noble woman, yet one who went forth into the world brokenhearted and friendless, with no belief in anyone and no pleasure in life. She, however, was of too finer nature ever to sink into the base cynical indifference of a misanthropic life and the wealth which she possessed was nobly used by her to alleviate the horrors of poverty and to help those who needed help. Life Midas, the Greek king, from whence her quaint name was derived, she had turned everything she touched into gold and though it brought her no happiness, yet it was the cause of happiness to others. But she would give all her wealth could she but once more regain that trust in human nature which had been so cruelly betrayed. End of Part 2, Chapter 16 Part 2, Epilogue of Madame Midas This Libravox recording is in the public domain. Madame Midas by Fergus Hume Part 2, Epilogue, The Wages of Sin Such a hot night as it was, not a breath of wind and the moon full-orbed, dull and yellow hangs like a lamp in the dark blue sky. Blow down on the horizon are great messes of rain clouds, ragged and angry looking and the whole firmament seems to weigh down on the still earth, where everything is burnt and parched, the foliage of the trees hanging limp and heavily and the grass yellow and soar mingling with the hot white dust of the roads. Absolute stillness everywhere down here by the Yarra Yarra not even the river making a noise as it sweeps swiftly down on its winding course between its low mud banks. No bark of a dog or human voice breaks the stillness, not even the sighing of the wind through the trees. And throughout all this unearthly silence and nervous vitality predominates for the air is full of electricity and the subtle force is permitting the whole scene. A long trail of silver light lies on the dark surface of the river rolling along and here and there the current swirls into somber, cruel-looking pools or froths and foams in lines of dirty white around the trunks of spectral-looking gum trees which stretch out their white scarred branches over the waters. Just a little way below the bridge which leads to the botanical gardens on the near side of the river stands an old, dilipidated bathing house with its long row of dressing rooms doorless and damp-looking. Abroad a regular wooden platform is in front of these literally down to the bank from Wentsnaro, crazy-looking steps stretching the whole length of the platform go down beneath the sullen waters and all this covered with black mould and green slime and whole armies of spiders weaving grey dusky webs in odd corners and a broken-down fence on the left half buried in bush-ranked grass an evil-looking place even in the daytime and ten times more evil-looking and uncanny under the light of the moon which fills it with vague shadows. The rough, slimy platform is deserted and nothing is heard but the squeaking and scampering of the water rats and every now and then the gurgling of the river as it races past as if it was laughing quietly in a ghastly manner over the victims it had drowned. Suddenly a black shadow comes gliding along the narrow path by the river bank and pauses a moment at the entrance to the platform then it listens for a few minutes Jane hurries down to the crazy-looking steps the black shadow standing there like the genius of solitude is a woman and she has apparently come to add herself to the list of the cruel-looking river's victims standing there with one hand on the rough rail and staring with fascinated eyes on the dull muddy water she does not hear a step behind her the shadow of a man who has apparently followed her glides from behind the bathing shed and stealing down to the woman on the verge of the stream lays a delicate white hand on her shoulder. She turns with a startled cry and Kitty Marchhurst and Gaston Vanderloop are looking to one another's eyes. Kitty's charming face is worn and pallet and the hand which clutches her shawl is trembling nervously as she gazes at her old lover. There he stands dressed in all black clothes worn and tattered-looking with his fair orb and hair all tangled and matted his chin covered with a short stubbly beard of some weeks' growth and his face called and haggard-looking the very same appearance as he had when he landed in Australia. Then he sought to preserve his liberty now he is seeking to preserve his life they gaze at one another in a fascinated manner for a few moments and then Gaston removes his hand from the girl's shoulder with a sardonic laugh and she buries her face in her hands with a stifled sob. So this is the end, he said, pointing to the river and fixing his skintillating eyes on the girl. This is the end of our lives. For you the river for me the hangman. God help me she moaned piteously this is left to me but the river hope he said in a low voice you are young you are beautiful you can yet enjoy life but in a deliberate cruel manner you will not for the river claims you as its victim something in his voice fills her with fear and looking up she reads death in his face looking on her knees she holds out her helpless hands with a pitting cry for life strange observed Monsue Vandaloup with a touch of his old eerie manner you come to commit suicide and are not afraid I wish to save you the trouble and you are my dear you are illogical no no she mutters twisting her hands together I do not want to die why do you wish to kill me lifting her wane face to his he bent down and called her wrist fiercely you ask me that he said in a voice of concentrated passion you who with your long tongue have put the hangman's rope round my throat but for you I would by this time on my way to America where freedom and wealth awaits me I have worked hard and committed crimes for money and now when I should enjoy it you with your feminine devilry have dragged me back to the depths I did not make you commit the crimes she said piteously with a scoffing laugh who said you did no sins on my own shoulders but you did worse you betrayed me yes there is a warrant out for my arrest for the murder of that accursed Pierre I have eluded the club of Melbourne police so far but I have lived the life of a dog I dare not even ask for food lest I betray myself I am starving I tell you starving you harlot and it is your work he flung her violently to the ground and she lay there a huddled heap of clothing while with wild gesticulations he went on but I will not hang he said fiercely Octav Brawlad who escaped the guillotine will not perish by a rope no I have found a boat going to South America and tomorrow I go on board of her to sail to Valparaiso but before I go I settle with you she sprung suddenly to her feet with a look of hate in her eyes you villain she said through her clenched teeth you ruined my life but you shall not murder me he caught her wrist again she was weak for want of food and she easily wrenched it away stand back she cried retreating a little you think to escape me he almost shrieked all his smooth cynical mask falling off no you will not I will throw you into the river I will see you sink to your death you will cry for help for God and myself both of us are merciless you will die like a rat in a hole and that face you are so proud of will be buried in the mud of the river you devil your time has come to die he hissed out the last word in a low, sibilant manner then sprung towards her to execute his purpose of the steps and indistinctively Kitty put out her hands to keep him off she struck him on the chest and then his foot slipped on the green slime which covered the steps and with a cry of baffled rage he fell backward into the dull waters with a heavy splash the swift current gripped him and before Kitty could utter a sound I see him rising out in midstream and being carried rapidly away he threw up his hands with a hoarse cry for help but weakened by famine he could do nothing for himself and sunk for the second time again he rose and the current swept him near shore almost within reach of a fallen tree he made a desperate effort to grasp it but the current mocking his puny efforts bore him away once again in its giant embrace and with a wild shriek on God he sunk to rise no more the woman on the bank with white face and staring eyes saw the fate which she had meant for her method out to him and when she saw him sink for the last time she covered her face with her hand and fled rapidly away into the shadowy night the sun is setting in a sea of blood and all the west is lurid with crimson and barred by long black clouds a heavy cloud of smoke shot with fiery red hangs over the city and the din of many workings sound through the air down on the river the ships are floating on the bloodstained waters and all their masts stand up like a forest of bare trees against the clear sky and the river sweeps on red and angry looking under the sunset with the rank grass and vegetation on its shelving banks rats are scampering along among the wet stones and then a vagrant dog poking about amid some garbage howls dismally what is that black speck on the crimson waters the trunk of a tree perhaps no it's a body with white face and tangled urban hair it is floating down with the current people are passing to and fro on the bridge the clock strikes in the town hall and the dead body drifts slowly down the red stream far into the shadows of the coming night under the bridge a cross which the crowd is hurrying bent on pleasure and business past the tall warehouses where rich merchants are counting their gains under the shadow of the big steamers with their tall masts and smoky funnels now it is caught in the reeds at the side of the stream no the current carries it out again and so down the foul river with the hum of the city on each side and the red sky above drifts the dead body on its way to sea the red dyes out of the sky the veil of night descends and under the cold starlight cold and cruel as its own nature that which was once in Vanderloop floats away into the still shadows end of Madame Midas by Fergus Hume read for Libra Box by Lucy Burgoyne this recording is in the public domain