 CHAPTER XXV OF THE SACRED ERB BY FERGUS YUME When Lord Priilis recovered his senses, he opened his eyes in a comfortable room on a comfortable bed, and saw as in a dream that Ned was seated beside him. His head felt confused and sore, but he regained sufficient command of his wits to recognize his friend. Where am I, Ned? He asked, in a feeble voice, and put up a weak hand to his head, which was bandaged. At land when Grange replied Shepworth quietly, thinking it best to explain reasonably, and glad to think that Priilis was sane. The knock on his head had been a nasty one. Who pulled me out of the water? One of the bow-watchs that followed us picked you up when you rose for the second time. You have had a narrow escape from death, Dory. Mona asked Priilis, closing his eyes. She is all right, but somewhat shaken after her experiences. With that black guard, Jadby, what of him? Dead, shot through the heart. His body was found, and now lies at Folkstone, awaiting the inquest. And Bryson, the man who shot him? Oh, Bryson did that, did he, said Shepworth. He's got a good eye, and saved us a lot of trouble. Well, Bryson and the Canaro have gone into the wide world. I expect he's on the high seas, making for Polynesia, and won't be caught. I hope not, for after all he only saved Jadby from the hangman. Why? What did Jadby do? He murdered Dolly Rover. Neah, do you mean to say? I mean to say nothing just now. Try and go to sleep. Here, drink this first. You are still weak. Hang it, Dory, you have been unconscious for twenty-four hours, and heaps has happened. One last question, and then I'll sleep, said Prellis, who felt that he was weak from loss of blood. Madame Marie? Dead. She killed herself after confessing. Confessing what? Many things. Go to sleep, Dory, I tell you. Prellis did not answer, but closed his eyes with a groan, feeling very stiff and sore and wonderfully weary. At sleep the great healer soothed his two restless brain and mended his broken body, so that he woke again, after hours of slumber, feeling hungry and refreshed, and eager to learn all that had taken place. It was candlelight when he closed his eyes, but the sun was shining into the room when he opened them again, and beside his bed Ned had been replaced by Mona. She was hanging over him like a mother over her first-born, and uttered a coup of satisfaction when he looked at her and smiled. Mona, darling, said the sick man, thrusting out one weak hand. She kissed it and tucked it again under the clothes. Go to sleep. Prellis, feeling ever so much stronger, objected to being treated like an infant, sweet though it was when Mona was the nurse. I have had enough sleep, he said, yawning. One can overdo laziness, my dear girl. Besides, I am hungry. Ah, Mona laughed. You can't live on love? No, said Prellis ruefully. I am too earthly. Now, breakfast is waiting. Come, let me place this pillow behind you and soothe the clothes so and kiss me so, said the invalid, suiting the action to the word. The future lady Prellis tapped his cheek in pretended displeasure and went to the door. In another minute she returned, followed by Mrs. Blexley bearing a tray, which she placed before the hungry young man. Coffee and cream, two lightly-biled eggs, thin bread and butter, and honey from our own bees, said Mrs. Blexley, arranging the tray. I hope that your lordship is better. My lordship is starving, Mrs. Blexley. And no wonder, sighed the housekeeper, placing one fat hand over her ample breast. You might have had anything for hours and hours, my dear. If you'll excuse my boldness in calling you so. And to think of all the terrible things that had happened, while you were lying there as pretty and neat as though you were in your coffin and— Blexley, you're a ghoul. Go away, said Mona imperilously. I'm a united inhabitant of the celestial regions, said Mrs. Blexley, with dignity. But I see that you want to feed him, my dear lady. May the dear lord bless your marriage, and happy I am that I should have lived to see this day. She waited for a reply, but Mona was too busy assisting Prellis with his breakfast to answer, and the young man was too busy admiring Mona to worry about the stout housekeeper. So she heaved a sigh and retired in a flood of tears, as she thought how happy they would be. It was an odd way of showing her joy, but Mrs. Blexley, after the manner of her class, wept indiscriminately for a wedding or for a funeral. Mona, dearest and best, said Prellis, when halfway through his second egg. I am a selfish beast. You are looking tired, and here I am letting you feed me. I am not tired at all, denied the girl vigorously, but my nerves are a trifle out of order after what I have undergone. Hush, eat your breakfast, you tiresome boy. Will you give me a kiss if I drink another cup of coffee? No, I'll give you a cigarette. Then you can sleep and get up at midday. Mr. Sheporth and Mr. Mardabon want to see you on business. Why do you speak of Ned so stiffly, Mona? I am engaged to you now, she replied demurely. That doesn't mean poor Ned is to be left out in the cold. He won't. I expect that he'll marry Mrs. Rover after her months of mourning are over. Ah, yes, Ned mentioned that Jadby had murdered Dolly. How did it happen, Mona, my dear? The girl shuddered and took away the tray. I don't think Captain Jadby meant to kill him, she said in a low voice. Madame Marie denies that he did, but Mr. Rover's heart was weak and so. Give me that cigarette and tell me all about it from the beginning, dear, said Prellis coxingly. Mona did as she was asked as he really now looked much better for the food and the night's rest. In fact, Prellis was in such good spirits that he apologized for his untidy appearance. I must look a regular Bill Sykes with this rough chin, he said, passing his hand over his face. Oh, how delicious this cigarette is. Well, I'll tell you all as quickly as I can, said Miss Chint, sitting beside him and allowing him to hold her hand on the principle that sick people must be humored. You know that Captain Jadby carried me off in a motor car. Infernal insolence. Hush, George, the poor wretch is dead, so I forgive him everything. All right, I'll try and be a Christian such as you are, although it is not easy. Fire ahead. I started to walk to Hyde to catch the train to Folkstone in order to see Lady Sophia, explained Mona slowly. I did not know that she had returned to London. Just as I got into the belt of woods between Hyde and the Downs, a motor car met me, coming up. Captain Jadby was driving it. Didn't know he could drive, growled Prellis restlessly. Oh, yes, Uncle Oliver talked of having a motor and asked his son to learn driving, so that he might take him about with him. And in fact, I think that Uncle Oliver presented this motor to Captain Jadby when he learned how to handle the machine. Didn't your uncle tell you that he did? No, and yes. That is, he let slip a word or two. But what does it matter? Captain Jadby had this motor, and a very good one it was. At least Ned says so. Ned, and not Mr. Shepworth. That's right, darling. And Prellis patted her hand. Go on, sweetness. I can't if you keep interrupting me, said Mona severely. Well then Captain Jadby got out and said that he was coming up to see me, and while he was speaking to me he lighted a cigarette. Hang him, confound him. But it wasn't a cigarette, after all, as I found, went on Miss Chint hurriedly. He had twisted up a leaf or two of the herb into the form of a cigarette. And when it was lighted he suddenly seized me and held it smoking under my nose. I screamed, but no one was near to hear me. And then I became rigid and helpless. Owing to the scanniness of the smoke I did not become quite insensible, but fell into a catalytic state, as Mr. Shepworth did. And as you did in the library. No, for then I became quite insensible. Of course had not Captain Jadby tricked me by twisting the leaves into a sham cigarette I should have run away. As it was, the smoke seized me before I could do anything. I became catalytic, as I said, and could move neither hand nor foot, although I was quite conscious all the time. Captain Jadby put me into the car and arranged the rug around me. Then he, Mona hesitated and colored. He, he kissed me. Damn him, hang him, curse him, raged Preilis, banging on his pillow. I wish he was alive that I could horse whip him. The beast, the hush, hush. Mona placed a cool hand over her lover's mouth. He is dead now. Leave his punishment to God. But you can fancy my feelings when, owing to the herb, I had to suffer his kiss. She passed a handkerchief across her mouth. Then while Preilis swore under his breath, she continued quickly, so as to prevent another outbreak of anger. Captain Jadby drove the motor up the hill and over the downs. As I was conscious, though helpless, I carefully noted the way so that I might return if I escaped. Did you see anyone on the road or on the downs? Not a soul, she replied. We went far inland and then turned to one side. Captain Jadby drove the car off the road and across the grass for over a mile. It swayed and bumped, but he is a wonderful driver and managed to prevent the car from overturning. At last we came to a small hut in a hollow, quite concealed from the surrounding country. No one would have noted it, for the side and the chimney were built of turf and the roof was thatched with green rushes. It looked quite like a part of the hollow itself, and great gray stones were lying about on all sides. Captain Jadby drove the car into some bushes and carried me into the hut. He then sat me down and talked. What did he say? Asked Preilis, frightfully pale and grinding his teeth. I am bound to acknowledge, said Mona quietly, that after the one kiss he behaved like a gentleman. He told me that he would keep me here until the next evening, when he intended to take me on board Madame Marie's yacht and steam for the South Seas. I heard all he said, but could not reply until the effects of the drug had worn off. Captain Jadby had evidently prepared the place for my prison. The door was strong, and the one window was barred. And then there was a girl to wait on me. A girl, Preilis stared in great surprise. Yes, I was astonished and thankful to see one of my own sex. After Captain Jadby had explained that he intended to carry me off in the canaro, he went out and brought in the girl. She was a native of the South Seas, very handsome and dark, called Vavi, but could speak very little English. Captain Jadby told me that the girl was Madame Marie's maid, and that he had brought her here to be my companion. Then he went away, and I never saw him again until eight o'clock the next evening. At least, added Mona, correcting herself, I fancy it was eight o'clock, but it might have been six or seven. I lost all count of time. So that was how I was kidnapped. It was cleverly done, said Preilis costically. Go on. In about an hour I came out of the catalytic state and tried to escape, but the girl showed me a knife and intimated in her broken English that she would stab me if I did. I tried to bribe her, but she would not be bribed. I had therefore to make the best of it. As I was alone amidst those lonely hills, with a half savage woman for a companion. All the same, George, I was not afraid. I knew that you would look for me and that God was watching over me. Dear, I thought the same. Preilis kissed her hand. Then I remembered the sacred herb which Dr. Horace had given me. I got it ready, and when Captain Jadby came the next evening with the car to take me on board the Canaro, which he told me was at Folkstone. I waited my opportunity. Vavi had been cooking. There was plenty of good food, said Mona in parenthesis, and the fire had smoltered two red ashes. When Captain Jadby entered he sent Vavi away. Where she went I do not know. But Captain Jadby sat by the fire and made me sit also. We had two stools. Then he talked a lot of rubbish about loving me and the necessity of getting away from Madame Marie. He said that she was an old fool, who loved him, but that he intended to make use of her yacht and run away with me. He finally said that by the time Madame Marie found him again in the South Seas, I would be his wife. After that he called you names and, I can guess the stuff he spouted, said Preilis, contemptuously. What about the herb? Did you make use of it? Yes. When Captain Jadby was not looking at me but bending over the fire stirring it with his cane, I dropped all the leaves onto the ashes. A thick white smoke arose. I got up quickly and sprang on Captain Jadby's shoulders to hold his nose over the smoke. It caught him in a second, and he received the full volume in his face. I felt dizzy myself but managed to pull him back out of the fire and ran to the door. It was not locked since Vavi went out, so I escaped into the open. It was growing dark and I ran up the hill to get out of the hall as quickly as I could. And Vavi, with her knife, asked Preilis excitedly, I never saw her. I don't know where she went. I ran without a hat or cloak up the hills and over the downs. Then I saw the road and struck out for that. It was very late when I reached the Grange and I fainted in Mrs. Blexley's arms. No wonder, muttered Preilis, but thank God you tricked the beast and with the sacred herb too, Preilis chuckled. You paid him out in his own coin. But what happened next? I can't tell you myself. I can only repeat what Ned told me. He gathered a lot from Madame Marie when she confessed. What did she say? Wait, and I'll tell you in an orderly manner, George. After I ran away, Vavi came back to the hut. She found that I was gone and Captain Jadby insensible with the smoke. Instead of hunting for me very luckily, she set to work to revive him. But could she? Seeing that the herb— Vavi, said Mona quickly, came from Easter Island and knew all about the herb. The priests there have a way of reviving those who go into such trances. How Vavi did it, I don't know, but she managed in an hour to bring Captain Jadby to his senses. As soon as he got them, he rushed out, still half-dizzy to search for me. Just as he left the hut, he came upon Madame Marie and Mr. Rover, who had been searching on the downs for me. Yes, yes, I remember they started out. Well? Captain Jadby thought in his dizziness and in the twilight that Mr. Rover was you and seized him by the throat, saying he would kill you rather than let you marry me. Madame Marie tried to pull him off, but Captain Jadby held on tight. Then Vavi helped by Madame's command, and they released Mr. Rover. He was dead. Prelus nodded. I quite understand. The poor devil had a weak heart and should not have mixed himself up in this business. I told him that Jadby was a rough customer. Strange how Jadby has been the means of removing an obstacle from Ned's path. Well then, what happened? Madame gave Captain Jadby something to revive him entirely. Some drug, some antidote. He became quite himself, and was terrified when he saw what he had done. Madame insisted that he should fly with her from England, lest he should be hanged for the murder of Mr. Rover, and made him get the car. It was ready to take me to the Canaro, if you remember, but instead it took Madame Marie and Vavi and Captain Jadby. When they reached the road they met the car with Mr. Shepworth, who had been searching for me, and were recognized. Perhaps Ned took Vavi for you. Perhaps he did in the twilight, assented Mona. At all events Ned's chauffeur followed, and then there was a race to Folkstone Harbor. Captain Jadby's car was the best, and he gained about ten minutes. In the harbor he and Madame seized a boat, and leaving Vavi on the shore, they offered the boatman twenty pounds to row them to the Canaro. He did, and then, Well, you know. Yes, said Prelis slowly, and with a sigh. Jadby tried to kill that poor woman, who loved him too well, and Bryson shot him. I shot Bryson when he tried to run down the boat in which Ned was following, and into which he had pulled Madame Marie. I wish I had killed Bryson, but unfortunately I only winged him, ended Prelis regretfully. I dare say he's all right now, and sailing for the Southern Cross. Oh, my dear, dear angel! he cried, gathering Mona into his arms. What an escape! Let us thank God, darling, she said reverently, and they both did with full hearts. It was a very excellent beginning to a new life. CHAPTER XXVI. That afternoon Prelis was up and dressed, and seated in the drawing-room, talking earnestly to Mardabon and Ned Shepworth. His head was perfectly clear, although still a trifle soar, and he wore a picturesque bandage, rounded, which added to his pale and interesting looks. But the color was gradually creeping back to his cheeks, and he was well enough to hear further what had taken place since he had been rendered unconscious. Shepworth was lounging in the window-seat under one of the painted windows, and it might have been the rosy light which came through this, which made him look so happy and healthy. On the other hand, it might have been the consciousness that fate had opened the way to his marrying the woman he loved, and who loved him. He could not find it in his heart to regret Rover's timely death. The man had always behaved badly to his wife, and had done his best to make her life a martyrdom. Now, poor victim of a family sacrifice, she would have a chance of being happy for the rest of her life. Mr. Mardabon, seated at the table with a few sheets of full scab before him, also looked happy. And no wonder! His beloved client, Miss Mona Chint, had inherited the lovely old house and ten thousand a year, and shortly was to become Lady Preilis. A great change this from the time, not so long ago, when she had stood in the New Bailey Dock accused of murder. And again the sheets of full scab with which the lawyer fiddled contained a confession by Madame Marie Eppengrave, which entirely cleansed the name of Miss Chint from the stain of crime. This is not the original document. Explain the delighted Mr. Mardabon to the anxious Lord Preilis. Inspector Burge has the original, which was signed by Marie Eppengrave in his presence. How did she come to make the confession? I think it was because Captain Jadby was dead, put in Shepworth from his end of the room. She held up until it was proved beyond all doubt that he had been shot through the heart. Then, I suppose, she saw that life was not worth living without him, and so decided to put an end to herself. How did she manage it? Seeing that she was in custody. Oh, she had some file filled with poison about her. I expect she had everything prepared to make away with herself should Jadby have succeeded in kidnapping Mona to the South Seas. However, we stopped that, think Heaven, and Madame Marie confessed. I wonder she did, said Preilis reflectively. I think it was because she had a sneaking regard for you, Dory, said the Barrister after a pause. To the last she declared that she was your friend, and hoped that you would be happy. However, she did confess, and Yonder is the copy of her confession. What does it say? questioned the other man. I am about to read it to you, said Mortibond, gathering up the sheets skillfully, or else, if you prefer it, I can give you a shorter account in the form of a story. I should prefer that, said Preilis gravely. I haven't patience to wait to the end of that long creed to know the exact truth. Who murdered Sir Oliver? Tell me at once. Steve Agstone, inspired and coerced by Madame Marie. Hmm. So Bryson was right, after all, commented Preilis, and who got rid of Agstone? Captain Jadby. The deuce. Preilis raised himself on his couch. Did he wear that sham frock? He did, said Sheporth quickly, and being, as you know, slimly built, I quite mistook him for a woman, seeing how clever was the disguise. Mortibond waved his hand impatiently, as Sheporth due breath to continue his speech. Let me speak, he said, leaning back in his chair. Lord Preilis, you know, of course, that Madame Marie Epengrave was deeply in love with this man, Jadby. Yes, Bryson told me so, and so did Madame herself. To make a long story short, said Mortibond, gathering up the papers and speaking with much deliberation, this woman wished to marry Jadby, and as she was rich he was willing to do so. Then he decided to go to England and see if Sir Oliver, his father, remember, was keeping to his promise of leaving the money to his natural son. Madame Marie supplied the cash for Jadby to live in London, and brought him there in her yacht, the Canaro, commanded by Captain Bryson. And the yacht was anchored in the Thames until Madame sent it round at Jadby's request to folkstone for the kidnapping, said Preilis. I know all that, Mr. Mortibond, continue. The lawyer did so very willingly. For some reason, I know not why, seeing that she was wealthy, Madame Marie took to telling fortunes in the Bond Street establishment. Jadby, on the other hand, came down to see his father in this house, and here fell in love with Miss Chint. He kept this secret from Madame Marie, naturally fearing what she would say, but she suspected something, and insisted upon coming down to see Sir Oliver, whom she had known in the South Seas. Madame learned that Landwin was in favor of the match, and therefore set herself to work to thwart it by every means in her power. She implored Sir Oliver to allow Miss Chint to marry Sheporth here. Thinking that we loved one another because of the sham engagement, said the barrister quickly. Quite so, quite so, said Mr. Mortibond, annoyed by the interruption. I hinted at that before. However, Sir Oliver was bent upon his natural son inheriting the property and marrying his cousin, as Miss Chint truly was. Miss Chint refused, and Sir Oliver drew out a new will, of which Madame Marie knew. It confirmed the will made in Jadby's favor. But what was the need of that, asked Preilis, surprised. Wasn't the first will good enough? Oh yes, but as it had been made in the South Seas, Sir Oliver thought, very wrongly, in a point of fact, that there might be some flaw. Now Lord Preilis, you can see that if Jadby married Miss Chint, the elder woman would lose him. Madame Marie, you mean? Yes, yes, I speak plainly. Do I not? Well, then, if Jadby inherited the property, Madame Marie lost him all the same, as while he had money he would never marry her. She therefore decided to destroy the third will, which had not been signed, and to have Sir Oliver murdered. Why didn't she stick him herself? asked Preilis. A strange woman, said the solicitor meditatively. She would do much to gain her ends, even employing a third person to commit a crime, but for some feminine reason she would not stain her own hands with blood. Rather a quibble. It is, my lord, it is, however, to continue. As Mr. Haken wished to borrow money from Sir Oliver and consulted Madame Marie about the same, she used his confidence as a lever by which to obtain the leaves of the sacred herb from Dr. Horace. Before that time he had refused her, but he gave the herb to Mr. Haken. I don't know why. I do, said Preilis, below his breath, and thinking of the openly expressed hatred which Horace had proclaimed towards the dead man. One took no notice of the interruption. Mr. Haken got the herb and gave it to Madame Marie, who handed it to Sir Oliver on the day of the murder. As you know, Jadby and Shepworth quarreled on that day. Yes, said Shepworth vigorously, Jadby learned about my love for a certain lady through Madame Marie, I believe, and threatened to make himself disagreeable. I gave him a black eye and myself a sprained ankle. Then the murder took place. Yes, said Mordewan, and Mr. Haken was in the library when, I know, interrupted Preilis sharply, my uncle told me, but how did Madame Marie induce Steve to murder his master? It seems that she knew how Agstone was wanted for certain other murders in the South Seas, said Mordewan, glancing at the papers. So she threatened to have him extradited unless he did her bidding. He was, I regret to say, quite willing to do so, as he hated Sir Oliver, who treated him like a slave. That, said Preilis emphatically, I also know from Bryson. And then? Then when Mr. Haken retired, Sir Oliver burned the herb in a shallow bronze cup, the same as Mr. Shepworth saw in his flat, and went into a trance. Madame Marie had arranged with Agstone that he should watch at the window until Sir Oliver was insensible and then kill him. The man did so with the jade-handle paper knife. Why wasn't Agstone stifled with the smoke fumes? Because the smoke had died away. When Sir Oliver was dead, Agstone hurt a step, and after setting fire to some more leaves, he ran out of the window, not the one opened by Miss Chint, but another one. He watched and saw Miss Chint enter, saw also how she feigned with the acrid smoke. He entered and placed her in the armchair where she was found. It was then that Madame Marie came downstairs and into the room. She snatched up the third wheel at which Sir Oliver had been looking, before manipulating the herb and tearing it up, flung it into the fire. Then she gave the wheel, leaving everything to Miss Chint, which Lannwyn had also been looking at to destroy, I presume, to Agstone, and told him to take it up to his brother, Dr. Horace. What for? asked Prelis, surprised. Madame Marie said she had no grudge against Miss Chint, explained Mortibond, and wanted the wheel placed safely out of Jadby's way, so that Miss Chint might inherit, and that Jadby might be kept poor. One for Mona and two for herself, said Prelis grimly, but who placed the knife in Mona's hand? Agstone, who hated her, did. A step was heard that was Shepworth coming down, so Madame Marie ran out of the window and got back to her room by another door, which Agstone had left open. The man waited to smear Miss Chint's dressing gown with blood, and to place the knife in her hand. Then Mr. Shepworth, so he says, secured the knife, and I know all that, said Prelis, and understand the why and the wherefore of the first crime, but the second. That arose out of Jadby's hatred for Shepworth and his love for Miss Chint. Jadby learned the truth about the crime from Agstone, whom he found hiding in London, under the protection of Madame Marie. He threatened to denounce him to the police to save Miss Chint and then resolve to make use of him to incriminate Shepworth and, at the same time, to kill him, so that he might not come forward to give evidence against Miss Chint, which Agstone wanted to do. But surely he would not have accused Mona of a crime which he had committed himself, said Prelis, indignantly. Yes, he would, said Ned quickly. He hated Mona, and Sir Oliver, and Madame Marie, and Jadby, and everyone. The man was a caliban. And to tell you the truth, added Shepworth candidly, I don't think that his brother is much better. Ah, said Prelis suddenly, did Agstone confess the truth to Horace? No, he did not. He simply came and handed over the wheel, as Madame Marie had instructed him, and then cleared out. He had to do what he was told, or else he would have been hanged. Well I see. Now the Alexander mentions crime. Martabon went on again, glancing at the sheets. Madame Marie learned about Mrs. Rover's dress and told Captain Jadby so that he could get a double maid, which he did. Was she in favor of the second crime? Oh no, for then Miss Chint would be set free to marry Jadby. She liked Miss Chint in a way, but did not intend her to be an obstacle. I don't believe that she liked Mona at all, snapped Prelis irritably. She saved the second wheel so that Jadby might be made penniless, and would have stopped the second crime from being committed so that Mona might be condemned on Agstone's evidence. A wicked woman. She was all that, assented Martabon, but allow me to proceed. Madame Marie merely thought that Jadby wished to be disguised to meet Haken, and told him about the dress, knowing that Haken intended to remonstrate with Shepworth about his conduct. Which was perfectly correct, cried Ned, indignantly. But why in a dress like Mrs. Rover's? asked Prelis, puzzled. Martabon scratched his head. I am not quite clear on that point, he declared. All I know is that Madame Marie wished to mix up things. I believe that she had some clearly defined scheme in her head. But what it was she did not explain. Nevertheless you can see how Jadby came to the ball disguised. Yes, but how did Agstone enter? I can tell you that, said Shepworth, rising with a yawn. Jadby, as you know, called to see me early in the evening. I opened the door to him, as the servants were out. He entered and I proceeded him into the drawing-room. He went back for his handkerchief, which he said he had dropped in the hall, and then must have set the door ajar. While I talked to him, Agstone entered and concealed himself under the dining-table. Then Jadby went to the ball in his disguise. Agstone set the herb burning and stifled me, and afterwards admitted Jadby in his disguise. I was incriminated, you see, and Jadby, to make me quite insensible, just I should see too much, waved the bronze cup under my nose. When I was completely insensible, he stabbed Agstone with a knife, which Agstone, having taken it from my desk, had intended to use on me. Finally Jadby returned to the ball and concealed his dress in the cupboard in Rover's dressing-room, which was used on that night as a cloakroom. Once he came down in a plain blue domino to clinch the fact that I had murdered Agstone. But you had bowled him out by then, Dory. There was a silence. A strange story, said Preilis thoughtfully. Does Inspector Burge know it? Yes, and a carefully prepared account suppressing certain facts has been sent to the newspapers, said Mortibond, folding up the sheets. You can be certain now, Lord Preilis, that in two days all London will learn the truth, and that Miss Chint will be looked on as a martyr. Quite so, but I trust in a month or so she will be looked upon as my very dear and loving wife. Loud cheers! cried Ned, adopting Preilis's favorite expression. End of Chapter 26 Chapter 27 of The Sacred Herb by Fergus Hume This lever-box recording is in the public domain. All's well that ends well. The title of Shakespeare's comedy quite suited the present state of affairs at the Grange, seeing that the worst was over. Within a week everything was put straight. The inquests on Madame Marie, on Dolly Rover, and on Felix Jadby led to the disclosure of the whole strange story in the newspapers. Luckily, owing to the strong influence being brought to bear, the painful love story of Sheporth and Mrs. Rover was suppressed. And it was supposed that merely the desire to save Miss Chint had led Dolly to that lonely hut, where he met with his death. Indeed, the little man became somewhat of a hero, and, as the saying goes, nothing in life became him better than his manner of leaving it. The public followed his body to the grave with eulogistic comments, and Dolly's spirit must have smiled at the irony of the semi-public funeral. Jadby and the miserable woman, who had loved him so dearly, were buried quietly in the Folkstone Cemetery. As to Bryson, he disappeared into the unknown, and nothing was ever heard of him again. Which was just as well, as Prelis had punished him in a measure by shooting him in the shoulder. But the whole affair was a nine-day's wonder, and those connected with it were glad when the excitement began to simmer down. It was annoying to have photographs of the Grange appearing in numberless illustrated papers, and still more annoying when the said pictures sent trippers across the Downs to the lonely Hollow. They came in shoals, in charabangs, in motor-cars, in traps and carts, and riding on bicycles. But Mardabon, who was taking charge of everything until his dear client became Lady Prelis, instructed the police to keep the sightseers out of the grounds. Therefore these could only stare from the smooth heights of the Downs into the woody Hollow. And that was unpleasant enough to a couple of ardent lovers who found their wanderings in the enchanted gardens overlooked by Kodak fiends, though heaven knows what kind of a picture these creatures hoped to obtain at such a distance. However, unless Mona and Prelis took refuge in the woods or in the house, they had nowhere to go, for the lawns, girdled by trees, were quite open to the gazers from above. I feel like a Christian martyr in the Coliseum, said Prelis, when the sight of three bicycles with three dismounting riders sent them hastily into the drawing-room. What an infernal nuisance it is to be Kodak'd to make a British holiday. Never mind, darling, said Mona, taking his arm to lead him to a most comfortable window seat. Let us sit here and talk. I have something to show you. Mrs. Rover sent it down. Look! Prelis glanced at the near table and saw a shallow bronze cup of a somewhat graceful shape. Is that THE cup? He asked, examining it. Yes. Mrs. Rover found it in the cupboard. I expect Captain Jadby left it there along with the dress. It is rudely made, but pretty. It was indeed quaint, being of rough bronze, carved with hideous heads twined round with wreaths of some strange plant. Prelis examined it closely. Why, Jove, Mona, he said, I believe these faces are wreathed with imitations of the sacred herb. See, the same spear-shaped leaves with the serrated edges. I wish we had some of the herb to compare. I have, said Mona, going to a cabinet and pulling out a drawer. I have just one leaf left. And she brought forward the purple withered leaf, which, as Prelis had pointed out, exactly resembled the chasings of the cup. It must have come from Easter Island, said Mona, while the two bent their heads over it. I never wish to hear of Easter Island again, said Prelis, putting down the cup. It has brought such misery. Do you call me misery? Said Mona reproachfully. Hasn't it brought me to you? Yes, in a way. But Lady Sophia is really responsible. Jerusalem! Just fancy, Mona, dearest. She sent me to the New Bailey to find an interest in life, and— And you have, said Mona, blushing and smiling. Prelis said nothing but kissed her twice, with a look which spoke volumes. But I wish Aunt Sophia would be agreeable to the match. By the young man, I am fond of Aunt Sophia, although she is such a worry. Besides I want her to present you at court after our marriage. Do you, indeed! said a complacent voice at the door, and the two looked up in great amazement to behold Lady Sophia, standing there in the best of spirits, and the most perfect of summer dresses. I have stolen a march on you, said the lady, coming forward, and waited for a dramatic moment upon which to enter. Your speech, my dear Prelis, was a happy one. But I am not a worry. Aunt Sophia, how did you come here? In a motor car, along with Dr. Horace, who will soon be in. We left the car at the lodgekeepers, because the creature would insist that we were trippers wanting to see the house. Do I look like a tripper? And Lady Sophia spun round for inspection. You are a—Prelis stopped and glared. I shetten say what you are, until you tell me if you come in peace or war. For answer, Lady Sophia turned to Mona, and took her to her breast. My dearest girl, she said, smiling. When you marry George Prelis, you must really try and put some sense into his head. Do you wish me to marry him? asked Mona, rather scared. Of course I do, cried Lady Sophia with asperity. What else am I here for, you dear, silly, pretty, sweet, angelic darling? Hooray, Aunt Sophia! I endorse all the unnecessary adjectives. Save the second. You can take that to yourself, Prelis. Now what am I? A weathercock, said her graceless nephew promptly, although she quite expected him to say something else. You bully ragged me about my marriage, and now you—oh, I say—ended Prelis in dismay, for Lady Sophia had burst into tears. Whatever is the matter? I'm so wicked, sobbed the old lady, clinging to Mona. Simon has told me all, and how very nearly he was being accused of murder. It was so lucky that his connection with this horrid herb thing was kept out of the papers. Or else I never, never, never should have held up my head again. Oh, that I might have lived to see my husband in a nasty dock! Don't trouble, whispered Mona, leading the old lady to the sofa. It is all right. Mr. Haken is in no danger. And that being so, cried Prelis indignantly, he might have held his confounded tongue and not worried you. My dear George, said Lady Sophia, wiping her eyes, he did it for your sake. I was raging against the marriage, and he told me how nearly he had been an old Bailey thing or a new Bailey creature. I forget which. I saw then how very easily one can be accused of things they hadn't the slightest intention of doing. And so I am here. Kiss me, my love, cried Lady Sophia, again embracing Mona. You are much, oh, ever so much, too good for Prelis. And I was too good for her some time ago, laughed Prelis. And Sophia, you are a weathercock. But, he added, shaking hands, I am glad that a kind wind has blown you round to being pleased. You are an angel. I've been very horrid, said Lady Sophia penitently, but I have made it up with everyone, even with Constance, poor thing, although she did behave badly with that silly poodle creature. He is dead, so let him rest, Aunt Sophia. And Constance has been punished, so don't blame her any more. I am not blaming her. How silly you are, Prelis. Don't I tell you that I've called to see her? She looks so well in her mourning, and so very happy. Mr. Shepworth is keeping away from her for a time, but they quite understand each other and marry in a year. It will be a good match for Mr. Shepworth, for Constance will have all that poor thing's money. She won't have any bridesmaids, though, being a widow. Lady Sophia's discontented chatter was ended by the entrance of Dr. Horace, still gruff and untidy and aggressive. Oh, here you are, said Lady Sophia, looking more like a man out of the Stone Age than ever. I take him about as an illustration of the time when people lived in sweet little caves and wore sables all the year round. Day, Prelis, said Horace, taking no notice of Lady Sophia's babble. How are you, Miss Chint? I have come to say goodbye. I can't stand this London rot, so I'm off again to the other side of the world. Go to Polynesia and ask Bryson how his arm is, said Prelis. But I say, you treated me rather badly over this case. Bosh! Pickles and Fahdy Law, snorted the traveler, why I gave you back the wheel and did my best for Haken's sake to keep you from going into the case. Yes, yes, said Mona, jumping up to take Horace's hand. I won't have him scolded. Horace grunted and disengaged his arm, in no wise impressed by the beauty of Mona. Such a dear, delightful cave bear, sighed Lady Sophia on seeing this. But Dr. Horace's eyes were fixed greedily upon the bronze cup. I see that you have the sacred herb burner of Easter Island, said he, fingering the bronze lovingly. How do you know? I saw it there. I expect Jadby stole it. This cup, said Horace, raising it aloft, is thousands and thousands of years old. It is a remnant of Lemuralian civilization. See how like these heads are to the heads of Easter Island statues, and the leaves of the herb are indicated? Give me this, Prelis, and I'll take it back to those poor priests on the island. They will be delighted to see it again. It is used in their sacred ceremonies. Prelis glanced at Mona. What do you say? He asked. Mrs. Rover sent it to you, my darling. Take it away, take it away, cried the girl, shuddering and spreading out her hands. I never wish to see or hear anything of this sacred herb again. It has been a terrible time all through. But she added, looking tenderly at Prelis. It has led to happiness. I should like to see the herb, said Lady Sophia, coming forward with her lagnette raised. Dr. Horace, can you show it to me? No, I can't, growled the doctor. I gave all I had to your husband. There is one leaf left, said Mona, picking up the same. Give me the cup, Dory. Have you a match? Don't send us into trances, said Prelis, jokingly. I should love it above all things, said Lady Sophia. Mona laid the leaf on the bronze cup and lighted it. A thin stream of white smoke curled into the air. And while the two women and the two men stood back to avoid the fumes, a sickly scent of tube roses spread through the room. The leaf fizzled into nothing, and Dr. Horace slipped the still warm cup into his capacious pocket. That's the last of the sacred herb in England, said he, and without saying farewell trotted towards the door. There he stopped to wave a friendly hand, and departed en route to Polynesia and to Easter Island. Lady Sophia fell back onto the sofa. I declare this smell makes me quite giddy, she said, sniffing. It's like funerals and coffins. I don't wonder people go into trances with it and see things. She bent forward with her long yet to her eyes and laughed. I am in a trance now, she said gaily. I see, I see, the prettiest bride in the three kingdoms. And the happiest bridegroom, said Prilis, slipping his arm round Mona's waist. And I see, I see. You see this, said Mona, and laying her arms about her lover's neck. She kissed him fairly on the mouth. I think trances are quite improper, said Lady Sophia, rising. My dear, if you will ask me to remain to dinner, I'll stop and talk over your wedding dress. End of Chapter 27 Recording by Sharon Kilmer, San Antonio, Texas. End of The Sacred Herb by Fergus Hume