Fergus Hume

“ Look at this talk of ours—it began with words of love and marriage speeches, and it ends with a discussion of murder. But this I say, Lucian, that if you love me, and would have me marry you, you must find out the truth of these matters. Learn if this dead man is my father—for from what you have told me of the lost finger I do not believe that he is. Hunt down the assassin, and discover if he is whom I believe him to be—Ferruci himself; and learn, if you can, what Lydia has to do with all these evil matters. ”

“ Lydia Vrain is not the doll you think her to be; she is a false, cruel, clever adventuress, and I hate her—I hate her with all my heart and soul!"
This feminine outburst of anger rather bewildered Denzil, who saw very plainly that Diana was by no means the lofty angel he had taken her to be in the first appreciation of her beauty. But her passion of the moment suited so well with her stately looks that she seemed rather a Margaret of Anjou defying York and his faction than an injured woman concerned with so slight a thing as the rebuke of one of her own sex for whom she had little love. ”

“ And after all," added Diana, "she is my father's wife," as if that fact extenuated all.
"He has reason to know it," replied Lucian bitterly. "If it had not been for Lydia, your father would not have left his home for a lunatic asylum, nor would Clear have been murdered."
"I quite agree with you, Lucian; but some good has come out of this evil, for if things had not been as they are, you and I would never have met."
"Egad! that is true!" said Lucian, kissing her. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody any good." ”

“ Lucian held his peace, for in the face of this desertion of a powerful ally he did not know what to say. Diana walked to the sitting-room window and watched Link disappear into the crowd of passers-by. At that she heaved a sigh, for with him—she thought—went every chance of learning the truth, since if he, an experienced person in such matters, turned back from the quest, there could assuredly be no help in any one not professional, and with less trained abilities. ”

“ My friend the Count remained under my roof all night, and left at twelve o'clock on Christmas morning."
"So you see," said Ferruci airily to Lucian, "that I could not have done what you think, as that was done—by what you said—between eleven and twelve on that night."
"Was the Count with you at ten o'clock on that evening?" asked Denzil.
"Certainly he was; so you have lost your bet, Mr. Denzil. Sorry to bring you such bad fortune, but truth is truth, you know."
"Would you repeat this statement, if I wished?"
"Why not? Call on me at any time. 'The Haven, Hampstead'; that will always find me." ”

“ Then I surmised from the name and the missing finger and the scarred cheek, that I'd dropped right on to Mark. I wouldn't take all this trouble for any one else; no, sir, not me!"
"My Lyddy does not care about being a grass-widow, gentlemen."
"I don't mind being a grass-widow or a real one, so long as I know how to ticket myself," said the candid Lydia; "but seems to me there's no question that Mark's sent in his checks."
"I certainly think that this man who called himself Berwin was your husband," said Denzil, for Mrs. Vrain's eyes rested on him, and she seemed to expect an answer. ”

“ Mrs. Clear has got quite enough to think about in remembering how narrowly she escaped imprisonment for her share in that shameful conspiracy. If she had not turned Queen's evidence, she would have been punished as Clyne was; as it is, she just escaped by an accident. Still, if it had not been for her, we should never have discovered the truth. I would never have suspected Clyne, who was always so meek and mild. Even that visit he paid to me to lament over his daughter's probable marriage to Ferruci was a trick to find out how much I knew. ”

“ She is absolutely innocent of all knowledge concerning the feigned death of her husband and his actual existence in a private lunatic asylum; and on the strength of this confession of mine—which will fix the guilt of the matter on the right persons—I demand that she shall be set free. It is not fair that she should suffer, for I and Ferruci planned and carried out the whole conspiracy. Well, Ferruci has punished himself, and soon the law will punish me, so it is only justice that Lydia should be discharged from all blame. ”

“ Lucian said nothing, but shook his head doubtfully. Evidently Berwin was trying, for his own ends, to talk him into a belief that his eyes had deceived him; but Denzil was too clear-headed a young man to be so gulled. Berwin's explanations and excuses only confirmed the idea that there was something in the man's life which cut him off from humanity, and which would not bear the light of day. Hitherto, Lucian had heard rather than seen Berwin; but now, in the clear light of the lamp, he had an excellent opportunity of observing both the man and his quarters. ”

“ I wonder at your taste, Mr. Denzil, indeed I do. Pretty, the idea! What fools men are! I'm glad I never married one! Indeed no! He! he!"
And with a shrill laugh to point this sour-grape sentiment, and mark her disdain for Lucian, the fair Bella took herself and her lean form out of the room.
Diana and the barrister were too deeply interested in their business to take much notice of Bella's hysterical outburst, but looked at one another gravely as she departed.
"Well, Mr. Denzil," said the former, repeating her earlier question, "what is to be done now? Shall we see Mrs. Vrain?" ”

“ A most strange word for my goodness," said the Count coolly.
"The most fit word, you mean," replied Lucian, impatient of this fencing. "It is no use beating about the bush, Count. I know that the man you keep in the asylum is not Clear, but Mark Vrain."
"La! la! la! You talk great humbug. Mr. Vrain is dead and buried!"
"He is not dead," answered Lucian resolutely, "and the man who was buried under his name is Michael Clear, the husband of the woman who told me all."
Ferruci, who had been pacing impatiently up and down the room, stopped short, with a nervous laugh. ”

“ Denzil," said Lydia, with unusual solemnity, "as I'm a married woman, and not the widow I thought I was, I did not know that Mark was alive! I'm bad, I daresay, but I am not bad enough to shut a man up in a lunatic asylum and pretend he is dead, just to get money, much as I like it. What I did about identifying the corpse was done in good faith."
"You really thought it was my father's body?" questioned Diana doubtfully.
"I swear I did," responded Mrs. Vrain, emphatically. "Mark walked out of the house because he thought I was carrying on with Ferruci, which I wasn't. ”

“ Still, it was best to give her the money, and I hear from Miss Priscilla that Lydia is now in Italy, and proposes to marry an Italian prince."
"She has flown higher than a count, then. Poor Ferruci killed himself for her sake."
"For his own, rather," exclaimed Mrs. Denzil energetically. "He knew that if he lived he would be punished by imprisonment, so chose to kill himself rather than suffer such dishonour. I believe he truly loved Lydia, certainly, but as he wanted the assurance money, I fancy he sinned quite as much for his own sake as for Lydia's." ”

“ The barrister wished to escort her back to the Royal John Hotel in Kensington, but Miss Vrain, guessing his feelings, would not permit this; so Lucian, hat in hand, was left standing in Geneva Square, while his divinity drove off in a prosaic hansom. With her went the glory of the sunlight, the sweetness of the spring; and Denzil, more in love than ever, sighed hugely as he walked slowly back to his lodgings.
For doleful moods, hard work and other interests are the sole cure; therefore, that same afternoon Lucian returned to explore the Silent House on his own account. ”

“ Denzil, it wasn't flesh and blood as made a spirit of that crazy Berwin."
"In that case, the ghostly criminal can't be hanged," said Denzil, with a laugh. "But it's all nonsense, Miss Greeb. I am astonished that a woman of your sense should believe in such rubbish."
"Wiser people than I have faith in ghosts," retorted the landlady obstinately. "Haven't you heard of the haunted house in a West End square, where a man and a dog were found dead in the morning, with a valet as gibbered awful ever afterwards?" ”

“ Berwin—Mark Berwin," replied Denzil, taking a seat.
"Just think of that now!" cried Mrs. Vrain, with a liveliness rather subdued in compliment to her apparel; "and his real name was Mark Vrain. Well, I guess he won't need no name now, poor man," and the widow touched her bright eyes carefully with a doll's pocket-handkerchief, which Lucian noted, somewhat cynically, was perfectly dry.
"Maybe he's an angel by this time, Lyddy," said Mr. Clyne, in a cheerful, chirping voice, "so it ain't no use wishing him back, as I can see. We've all got to negotiate kingdom-come some time or another." ”

“ My nerves are in good order just now; I don't want to upset them by inhabiting a house with so evil a reputation."
"Ah! that's what every one says," sighed the grocer. "I wish that Berwin, or Vrain, or whatever he called himself, had chosen some other place to be killed in."
"I'm afraid people who meet with unexpected deaths can't arrange these little matters beforehand," said Lucian drily, and walked away, leaving the unfortunate landlord still lamenting over his unlucky possession of a haunted and blood-stained mansion. ”

“ Diana and Lucian looked at one another, and the former spoke: "That is strange," she said. "I agree with Mr. Denzil, it is peculiar, to say the least of it, that an Italian noble should make a bosom friend of a man so far inferior to him in [Pg 192] position. Don't you think so yourself, Mr. Link?"
"Madam," said Link gravely, "I think nothing about it, save that you will never find out the truth. I have tried my best, and failed; and I am confident enough in my own power to say that where I have failed no one else will succeed. Miss Vrain, Mr. Denzil, I wish you good-day." ”

“ He bought the cloak for the woman, visited the man Wrent at Jersey Street, and was seen by the servant in the back yard. He did not act thus without some object, Mrs. Vrain, you may be sure of that."
"Sakes!" said Lydia, with a weary sigh. "I ain't sure of anything save that my head is buzzing like a sawmill. Who is Wrent, anyhow?"
"I don't know. An old man with white beard and a skull-cap of black velvet."
"Ugh!" said Mrs. Vrain, with a shiver. "Mark used to wear a black skull-cap, and the thought of it makes me freeze up. Sounds like a judge of your courts ordering a man to be lynched. ”

“ I locked the door before I went out, and I have been absent at least two hours."
"Then I must be mad, or dreaming!" retorted Lucian, with heat.
"We can soon prove if you are either of the two, sir. Come with me and examine the house for yourself."
"Pardon me," said Denzil, drawing back, "it is none of my business. But I warn you, Mr. Berwin, that others are more curious than I am. Several times people have been known to be in your house while you were absent, and your mode of life, secretive and strange, does not commend itself to the householders in this neighbourhood. ”

“ In her turn she also examined the cloak, and departed to refresh her memory by looking at some account book. When she returned it was to intimate that the cloak had been bought by a man.
"A man!" repeated Lucian, much astonished. "What was he like?"
"A dark man," replied the brisk shopwoman, "dark hair, dark eyes, and a dark moustache. I remember him well, because he was a foreigner."
"A foreigner?" repeated Lydia in her turn. "A Frenchman?"
"No, madam—an Italian. He told me as much."
"Sakes alive!" cried Mrs. Vrain. "You are right, Mr. Denzil. It's Ferruci sure enough!" ”

“ Then Lucian wondered if it would be possible to have the grave opened a second time that Diana might truly see if the corpse was that of her father or of another man. But this also was impossible, and—to speak plainly—useless, for by this time the body would not be recognisable; therefore, it would be of little use to exhume the poor dead man, whomsoever he might be, for the second time. Finally, Lucian judged it would be wisest of all to call on Dr. Jorce, and find out why he was friendly with Ferruci, and how much he knew of the Italian's doings. ”

“ And putting aside the wickedness of the whole conspiracy, I cannot pardon a man who deliberately put a weapon in the way of a man almost insane with drink, in order that he might kill himself. The idea was diabolically wicked, my dear, and I think that Jabez Clyne, alias Wrent, quite deserves the long imprisonment he received."
"At all events, the Sirius Company got back their money, Lucian."
"So much as Lydia had not spent they got back, Diana; but when your father actually died they had to part with it very soon again, and some of it has gone into Lydia's pocket after all." ”

“ Gordon Link, the detective charged with the conduct of the case, confessed as much to Denzil.
"I do not see the slightest chance of tracing Berwin's past," said he to the barrister. "We are as ignorant about him as we are of the name of the assassin."
"Are you sure there is no clue, Mr. Link?"
"Absolutely none; even the weapon with which the crime was committed cannot be found."
"You have searched the house?"
"Every inch of it, and with the result that I have found nothing. The surroundings of the case are most mysterious. If we do not identify the dead we cannot hope to trace the murderer. ”

“ Vrain himself told me how you decoyed him from Salisbury, and took him to Mrs. Clear's, in Bayswater, where he passed as her husband, although, as she confesses, she kept him as a kind of prisoner."
"But this is wrong," cried Ferruci, trying to laugh. "This is most foolish. How would a man, of his own will, pass as the husband of a woman he knew not?"
"A sane man would not; but none knew better than you, Count, that Vrain was not sane, and that you dosed him with drugs, and let Mrs. Clear keep him locked up in her house until you put him in the asylum. ”

“ Miss Priscilla, who had been left in charge of the Manor during their absence, had welcomed them back with much joy, as she looked upon the match as one of her own making. Now she had gone inside, on the understanding that two are [Pg 313] company and three are none, and the young couple were left alone. Hand in hand, after the foolish fashion of lovers, they sat under a leafy oak tree, and the sunlight glowed redly on their happy faces. After a short silence Lucian looked at the face of his wife and laughed. ”