Part 32 (2/2)
”The end of De Louvisan's murderer, General, I hope, and the everlasting shutting of the door on Lady Clavering's secret and yours,” said Cleek.
”Come quickly, before the servants arrive on the scene.”
He led the way out of the room, and up the stairs to where was Lord St.
Ulmer's room. Cleek opened the door with the key which had evidently reposed in his own pocket. A strange sight met their eyes. It was evident that St. Ulmer, or Paul Berton, had been left handcuffed and bound by ropes to the bedpost, but he had managed to evade his bondage sufficiently to get to a drawer in which must have been a loaded revolver, and he had thus set himself free.
”Let the dead past bury its dead,” said Cleek quietly. ”The world need only know that one impostor killed another, and finally shot himself when the law discovered the truth.”
He bent down and swiftly removed the handcuffs from the still figure, and the General gave vent to a deep sigh of relief just as the startled servants came flocking up the staircase.
The riddle of the night had been solved, and their secret lay buried in the grave.
It was an hour afterward. In the seclusion of the General's study, he and Narkom and Cleek sat talking over the events of the night.
”You must not accord me too much honour, General,” said Cleek. ”For after all I did not ferret out the entire truth until I came face to face with Paul Berton, who told me the facts, under force, it is true.
It was, as I have already explained, he who killed the poor Common keeper when that unfortunate man interrupted his headlong dash for freedom. Then, General, borrowing a leaf from the book of a certain person known as the 'Vanis.h.i.+ng Cracksman,' with whom he had had some dealings in other days, he leaped upon the unfortunate man, beat him to the ground, and hastily robbed him of his uniform. You know the rest: the a.s.sa.s.sin's blows were perhaps harder than he had intended, and so another life was added to the list. I confess I was puzzled at first by Lady Katharine's part in the affair and the ermine cloak, as I knew there were at least two women on the Common that night. But I managed to look into Mrs. Raynor's room in one of my rambles, and there I saw an ermine cloak soiled at the edges. The maid told me, unconscious of doing either harm or good, that she had just fetched it from Lady Katharine's room, as she had borrowed it a couple of days ago. I had already made up my mind after overhearing a certain interview between the lovers, that Lady Katharine must have acquired the habit of walking in her sleep, and so that part of the mystery was made clear. But I am afraid I have given you an unpleasant time, General, and I have had to spy about a good deal. However, I think we may agree with the immortal Shakespeare that after all, 'All's well that ends well.'”
He turned and put out his hand suddenly, and the General, with a little choking sound, put his own into it and breathed hard. There was a curious misty something lurking in his eyes.
Cleek smiled.
”Good-night!” he said softly, ”and good-bye. Mr. Narkom and I will motor back to town, and perhaps on our way will make a point of calling at Clavering Close and break the news to Lady Katharine of her erstwhile father's death. She cannot grieve deeply, poor girl, for that which she has never known--a father's devotion, or a father's love; but it will end her suspense. Good-night, General, once more.”
He waited a brief moment, and their eyes met in a look of perfect understanding; then with a nod to Narkom, who was standing in the background watching them, he spun on his heel and went out into the night whose riddle he had solved, leaving behind him that which is above all earthly things: a perfect peace and a still greater grat.i.tude.
THE END
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