Part 52 (2/2)
”And once more I was obsessed with the awful cert.i.tude that Luke would never be Earl of Radclyffe after me, while this man lived.
”He had so taken upon himself the personality of Philip, the evidences which went to prove his ident.i.ty with the late Arthur de Mountford's son were so strangely circ.u.mstantial, that, short of my proclaiming loudly that I had killed my brother's son with my own hand, nothing could prevent the impostor from succeeding in filching Luke's inheritance.
”And even if I had confessed then, it seemed to me that this man would still succeed in proving that I had murdered an unknown stranger--a chance friend, who was an English bricklayer's son--and that he and he only was Philip de Mountford, the late Arthur's son.
”When did I first dream of killing him, as I killed the other? I could not tell you that. But it was some time ago, and I watched my opportunity with patience and perseverance. Then at last the opportunity came, following on terrible provocation. That dark, foggy November night that you all remember so well! I was to meet my tyrant at the Veterans' Club at nine o'clock. I drove up there and as I stepped out of the cab I came face to face with Luke. Something in the boy's manner told me what had happened. He didn't tell me, but I guessed. The two men had quarrelled and Luke had had to endure the other's arrogance.
”The news upset me. I felt faint and choked with the fog. Luke didn't like to leave me, and seeing how I tottered he gave me his stick to lean upon. We walked together for a little while up and down, and I felt stronger and better. I begged Luke to leave me. Presently, as the impostor came out at the club door, Luke obeyed at last, and said 'good night' to me.
”Paul Baker--I knew that that was his name--wanted me to drive straight back to Grosvenor Square, but asked me to drop him first near the railings of Green Park. He often walked about there in the evenings. It was a curious fad which he had. We called a cab, and he told the driver where to pull up. When I was sitting next to him, I realized that I had a stick in my hand. I really had forgotten that it was Luke's. Whilst I toyed with it, I noticed that the top came out, and that a sharp dagger was concealed inside the body of the stick.
”Paul Baker was looking out of the window at the fog, and inside the cab it was very dark, so he did not know what I was doing. I killed him, just as I had killed Arthur's son, with a dagger thrust through the neck. This time I did not feel sick, because I hated this man so.
When the driver pulled up near Green Park I jumped out quite coolly and told the man to take my friend to some distant address in Kensington.
”I threw the stick away behind the railings in the park. I had forgotten that the stick was Luke's: I knew that it was not mine, and that therefore they could not trace it to me.
”I did not imagine for a moment that Luke could be accused of a crime which he had not committed. I did not think that justice could be so blind.
”All I wanted was to be rid of my tyrant, and that Luke's inheritance should not be filched from him.”
CHAPTER XLII
WHICH TELLS ONCE MORE OF COMMONPLACE INCIDENTS
The note-book fell out of Louisa's hands on to her lap. How simple the tragedy seemed, now that she knew. How understandable was the mystery of Luke's silence. He knew that ”Uncle Rad” was guilty. There lay the awful difficulty!
”Uncle Rad has been father, mother, brother, sister to us all! Bless him!” that was Luke's feeling with regard to Uncle Rad.
The un-understandable was so simple after all!
Louisa went back to the sitting-room. The two men were sitting, smoking in silence. Colonel Harris, too, understood the mystery at last. His loyalty was crowned with the halo of justification.
The public never knew, I think, that Luke de Mountford had actually been arrested for the murder of the Clapham Road bricklayer. The police the next day applied for a remand and then Luke was brought quietly before the magistrate and equally quietly dismissed.
He was free to go and see Uncle Rad.
Louisa did not see him the whole of that day, for he sat by the bedside of the sick man whose strange and perturbed spirit was slowly sinking to rest. Uncle Rad was at peace, for he held the hand and looked into the face of the man on whom he had lavished the storehouse of an affection that had known no bounds.
The two men understood each other perfectly. He who had committed a crime, and he who was ready to bear its burden, both had done their share for the other's sake.
It was only after the magnificent obsequies of the Earl of Radclyffe that the truth about the murder of the bricklayer's son was made known to the public at large.
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