Part 36 (2/2)
The slim, fair-faced girl stood with bent head, panting and irresolute, while all waited for the words to fall from her dry, white lips. At last, with eyes downcast, she summoned courage, and in a low, hoa.r.s.e voice said,--
”Zertho compelled me to accept him because--because he can prove that my father murdered Charles Holroyde.”
”Your father a murderer!” her lover echoed. ”Impossible.”
”Let me speak,” Mariette interrupted, hastily. ”Two winters ago I met in Nice a wealthy young Englishman named Holroyde. We saw one another often at Monte Carlo, and our acquaintance ripened into love. He offered me marriage, and I accepted; but one night, after winning a considerable sum, he returned to Nice about eleven o'clock, was waylaid in a narrow lane running from the Promenade des Anglais into the Rue de France, robbed and murdered. Thus was the man I loved cruelly s.n.a.t.c.hed from me just at the moment when happiness was in my reach; just within a few weeks of making me his wife. This villa, which I have since bought, he designated as our home, and this ring upon my finger is the one he gave me. The crime, enshrouded in mystery, has not yet been forgotten either by the police or the people of Nice. It seemed amazing that such a dastardly a.s.sa.s.sination could take place so swiftly without a single person hearing any cry, yet the police had no clue. The murderer, who had no doubt accompanied or followed his victim from Monte Carlo, must have struck him down with unerring blow and escaped, leaving no trace behind. Yet there was nevertheless a witness of the deed--a witness who is present.”
”A witness!” gasped Liane.
”Yes,” Mariette said. ”Max Richards will tell you what he saw.”
The man indicated, still standing with his back to the door, smiled triumphantly at Zertho, then said,--
”Yes, it is true. I witnessed the murder of Charles Holroyde. On that night I had left the Cafe de la Regence, and crossing the road overtook, in the Avenue de la Gare, Nelly Bridson, Captain Brooker's adopted daughter. We had met before on several occasions, and after she had told me that she had been to a chemist's to obtain something for Liane, who was not well, I offered, as it was late, to accompany her as far as her house in the Rue Dalpozzo. To this she made no objection, and we walked together along the Rue de France as far as the corner of the street wherein she lived. The moon, however, was bright upon the sea, and at my suggestion she consented to accompany me for a stroll along the Promenade. To reach the latter we had to pa.s.s through a narrow lane, which we had just entered, when we saw straight before us figures of men struggling together. Instantly I dragged Nelly back into the deep shadow where we could see without being observed. Suddenly I heard one of the men cry in English `My G.o.d! I'm stabbed!' and he staggered back and fell. Then, discerning for the first time that the man had been attacked by two a.s.sailants, I rushed forward, but already they had bent and secured the contents of their victim's pocket, and as I approached one of them threw the knife away. That man I recognised in the moonlight as Captain Brooker!”
A low groan escaped the lips of the pale-faced, agitated man who had been thus denounced, and he stood paralysed by fear, clutching the back of a chair for support.
”The man, however, who threw away the knife he had s.n.a.t.c.hed up, was not the murderer,” Richards continued, in a clear, calm voice. ”Both Nelly and myself were afterwards in complete accord that it was his companion who had, in the melee, struck the fatal blow. The murderer was the man there--Zertho d'Auzac.”
”It's a lie!” cried the man indicated, ”a foul, abominable falsehood!
Brooker crept up behind him and tried to gag him with a scarf, when, finding that he was too powerful for him, he struck him full in the breast. In an instant he was dead.”
”Your story is an entire fabrication,” Richards answered, in a deprecatory tone. ”We were both quite close to you, and saw your murderous face in the moonlight at the moment when you killed your victim. To us it seemed as though you alone had acted with premeditation, and that instead of a.s.sisting you, Brooker was endeavouring to release Holroyde, for I heard him cry in dismay, `Good G.o.d! Zertho, what are you doing?' It was you who bent and secured the notes, while Brooker s.n.a.t.c.hed up the knife, held it for an instant in hesitation, then seeing me approach in the darkness, flung it away and fled after you. I sped along the Promenade for some distance, leaving Nellie beside the prostrate man, but you both escaped, and when I returned she had gone. She had, I suppose, rushed home, fearing to be discovered there. But the young Englishman was already lifeless, therefore I left the spot hurriedly. Next morning, when the town was in a state of great excitement over the murdered Englishman, Nelly called at my rooms and begged me to say nothing to the police, because she felt certain the Captain would be arrested and convicted as an accessory.
Therefore, in obedience to her wish, I have kept my knowledge secret until such time as I should choose to make the truth known.”
”Is that the actual truth?” Brooker asked, agape in wonderment.
”It is the entire truth of what I saw with my own eyes--of what I am prepared to swear in any court of justice.”
”So confused were the memories of that terrible incident that I have all along believed that I myself was the actual murderer,” said the Captain.
”That night I had drunk more wine than usual, and remember very little of the occurrence save that I held the knife in my hand, and that on the following morning when I awoke I found my hands stained with blood, while in my pocket were some of the stolen notes. Zertho told me, when we met next day, that, in a frenzy of madness at having lost almost every sou I possessed, I had attacked Holroyde suddenly, murdered him, and filched his winnings from his pocket. He said, however, he would preserve my secret, and did so until a few weeks ago, when Liane refused to become his wife. Then he declared that if I did not compel her to marry him he would denounce me. I begged him to at least spare Liane, but he was inexorable. Therefore I was compelled to make confession to her, and she, rather than I should pay the terrible penalty, sacrificed all her love and happiness for my sake.”
His voice was broken with emotion, and although his lips moved, he could utter no further words.
George, standing beside his well-beloved, grasped her tiny hand and pressed it tenderly. At last he knew the secret of her acceptance of Zertho's offer, and recognised all the tortures she must have suffered in order to save her father from degradation and shame.
”He lies!” Zertho cried, his sallow face bloodless. He saw how ingeniously he had been entrapped. ”It was he himself who killed Holroyde.”
”If so,” exclaimed Max Richards, ”why have you paid me so well for my silence?”
He did not reply.
”You are silent,” he went on. ”Then I will tell you. You were shrewd enough to see that while I held my tongue you would still hold Captain Brooker in your power, and through the pressure you could place upon him, secure Liane as your wife. I knew this all along, although you believed me to be entirely ignorant of it. Still I allowed you to pay me, and I can a.s.sure you that the money you gave me with such bad grace often came in very useful,” he laughed. ”I am not a Prince, and although I may be an adventurer, I thank Heaven I'm not an a.s.sa.s.sin.”
”I paid you all you demanded, every penny, yet now you turn upon me. It is the way of all blackmailers,” Zertho cried, still livid with anger.
<script>