The House of Whispers

  CHAPTER XXXVI

  IN WHICH GABRIELLE TELLS A STRANGE STORY

  Gabrielle fell back in fear. Her handsome countenance was blanched tothe lips. This man intended to speak--to tell the terrible truth--andbefore her lover too! She clenched her hands and summoned all hercourage.

  Flockart laughed at her--laughed in triumph. "I think, Gabrielle," hesaid, "that you should put an end to this deceit towards your poor blindfather."

  "What do you mean?" cried Walter in a fury, advancing towards Flockart."What has this question--whatever it is--to do with you? Is it yourplace to stand between father and daughter?"

  "Yes," answered the other in cool defiance, "it is. I am Sir Henry'sfriend."

  "His friend! His enemy!"

  "You are not my father's friend, Mr. Flockart," declared the girl,noticing the look of pain upon the afflicted old gentleman's face. "Youhave all along conspired against him for years, and you are actuallyconspiring with Lady Heyburn at this moment."

  "You lie!" he cried. "You say this in order to shield yourself. You knowthat your mother and I are aware of your crime, and have always shieldedyou."

  "Crime!" gasped Walter Murie, utterly amazed. "What is this man saying,dearest?"

  But the girl stood, blanched and rigid, her jaw set, unable to utter aword.

  "Let me tell you briefly," Flockart went on. "Lady Heyburn and myselfhave been this girl's best friends; but now I must speak openly, indefence of the allegation she is making against me."

  "Yes, speak!" urged Sir Henry. "Speak and tell me the truth."

  "It is a painful truth, Sir Henry; would that I were not compelled tomake such a charge. Your daughter deliberately killed a young girl namedEdna Bryant. She poisoned her on account of jealousy."

  "Impossible!" cried Sir Henry, starting up. "I--I can't believe it,Flockart. What are you saying? My daughter a murderess!"

  "Yes, I repeat my words. And not only that, but Lady Heyburn and myselfhave kept her secret until--until now it is imperative that the truthshould be told to you."

  "Let me speak, dad--let me tell you----"

  "No," cried the old man, "I will hear Flockart." And, turning to hiswife's friend, he said hoarsely, "Go on. Tell me the truth."

  "The tragedy took place at a picnic, just before Gabrielle left herschool at Amiens. She placed poison in the girl's wine. Ah, it was aterrible revenge!"

  "I am innocent!" cried the girl in despair.

  "Remember the letter which you wrote to your mother concerning her. Youtold Lady Heyburn that you hated her. Do you deny writing that letter?Because, if you do, it is still in existence."

  "I deny nothing which I have done," she answered. "You have told myfather this in order to shield yourself. You have endeavoured, as thecoward you are, to prejudice me in his eyes, just as you compelled me tolie to him when you opened his safe and copied certain of his papers!"

  "You opened the safe!" he protested. "Why, I found you there myself!"

  "Enough!" she exclaimed quite coolly. "I know the dread charge againstme. I know too well the impossibility of clearing myself, especially inthe face of that letter I wrote to Lady Heyburn; but it was you and shewho entrapped me, and who held me in fear because of my inexperience."

  "Tell us the truth, the whole truth, darling," urged Murie, standing ather side and taking her hand confidently in his.

  "The truth!" she said, in a strange voice as though speaking to herself."Yes, let me tell you! I know that it will sound extraordinary, yet Iswear to you, by the love you bear for me, Walter, that the words I amabout to utter are the actual truth."

  "I believe you," declared her lover reassuringly.

  "Which is more than anyone else will," interposed Flockart with a sneer,but perfectly confident. It was the hour of his triumph. She had defiedhim, and he therefore intended to ruin her once and for all.

  The girl was standing pale and erect, one hand grasping the back of achair, the other held in her lover's clasp, while her father had risen,his expressionless face turned towards them, his hand groping until ittouched a small table upon which stood an old punch-bowl full ofsweet-smelling pot-pourri.

  "Listen, dad," she said, heedless of Flockart's remark. "Hear me beforeyou condemn me. I know that the charge made against me by this man is aterrible one. God alone knows what I have suffered these last two years,how I have prayed for deliverance from the hands of this man and hisfriends. It happened a few months before I left Amiens. Lady Heyburn,you'll recollect, rented a pretty flat in the Rue Leonce-Reynaud inParis. She obtained permission for me to leave school and visit her fora few weeks."

  "I recollect perfectly," remarked her father in a low voice.

  "Well, there came many times to visit us an American girl named Bryant,who was studying art, and who lived somewhere off the Boulevard Michel,as well as a Frenchman named Felix Krail and an Englishman calledHamilton."

  "Hamilton!" echoed Murie. "Was his name Edgar Hamilton--my friend?"

  "Yes, the same," was her quiet reply. Then she turned to Murie, andsaid, "We all went about a great deal together, for it was summer-time,and we made many pleasant excursions in the district. Edna Bryant was amerry, cheerful girl, and I soon grew to be very friendly with her,until one day Lady Heyburn, when alone with me, repeated in strictconfidence that the girl was secretly devoted to you, Walter."

  "To me!" he cried. "True, I knew a Miss Bryant long ago, but for thepast three years or so have entirely lost sight of her."

  "Lady Heyburn told me that you were very fond of the girl, and this, Iconfess, aroused my intense jealousy. I believed that the girl I hadtrusted so implicitly was unprincipled and fickle, and that she wastrying to secure the man whom I had loved ever since a child. I had toreturn to school, and from there I wrote to Lady Heyburn, who had goneto Dieppe, a letter saying hard things of the girl, and declaring that Iwould take secret revenge--that I would kill her rather than allowWalter to be taken from me. A month afterwards I again returned toParis. That man standing there"--she indicated Flockart--"was living atthe Hotel Continental, and was a frequent visitor. He told me that itwas well known in London that Walter admired Miss Bryant, a declarationthat I admit drove me half-mad with jealousy."

  "It was a lie!" declared Walter. "I never made love to the girl. Iadmired her, that's all."

  "Well," laughed Flockart, "go on. Tell us your version of the affair."

  "I am telling you the truth," she cried, boldly facing him. One day LadyHeyburn, having arranged a cycling picnic, invited Mr. Hamilton, Mr.Kratil, Mr. Flockart, Miss Bryant, and myself, and we had a beautifulrun to Chantilly, a distance of about forty kilometres, where we firstmade a tour of the old chateau, and afterwards entered the cool shadyForet de Pontarme. While the others went away to explore the paths inthe splendid wood I was left to spread the luncheon upon the ground,setting before each place a half-bottle of red wine which I found in thebaskets. Then, when all was ready, I called to them, but there was noresponse. They were all out of hearing. I left the spot, and searchedfor a full twenty minutes or so before I discovered them. First I foundMr. Krail and Mr. Flockart strolling together smoking, while the otherswere on ahead. They had lost their way among the trees. I led them backto the spot where luncheon was prepared; and, all of us being hungry, wequickly sat down, chatting and laughing merrily. Of a sudden Miss Bryantstared straight before her, dropped her glass, and threw up her arms.'Heavens! Why--ah, my throat!' she shrieked. 'I--I'm poisoned!'

  "In an instant all was confusion. The poor girl could not breathe. Shetore at her throat, while her face became convulsed. We obtained waterfor her, but it was useless, for within five minutes she was stretchedrigid upon the grass, unconscious, and a few moments later she wasstill--quite dead! Ah, shall I ever forget the scene! The effectproduced upon us was appalling. All was so sudden, so tragic, sohorrible!

  "Lady Heyburn was the first to speak. 'Gabrielle,' she said, 'what haveyou done? You have carried out the secret revenge which in your letteryou threatened!' I saw
myself trapped. Those people had some motive inkilling the girl and placing this crime upon myself! I could not speak,for I was too utterly dumfounded."

  "The fiends!" ejaculated Walter fiercely.

  "Then followed a hurried consultation, in which Krail showed himselfmost solicitous on my behalf," the pale-faced girl went on. "Aided byFlockart, I think, he scraped away a hole in a pit full of dead leaves,and there the body must have been concealed just as it was. To me theyall took a solemn vow to keep what they declared to be my secret. Thebottle containing the wine from which the poor American girl had drunkwas broken and hidden, the plates and food swiftly packed up, and we atonce fled from the scene of the tragedy. With Krail wheeling the girl'sempty cycle, we reached the high road, where we all mounted and rodeback in silence to Paris. Ah, shall I ever rid myself of the memory ofthat fatal afternoon?" she cried as she paused for breath.

  "Fearing that he might be noticed taking along the empty cycle, Krailthrew it into the river near Valmondois," she went on. "Arrived back atthe Rue Leonce-Reynaud, I protested that nothing had been introducedinto the wine. But they declared that, owing to my youth and theterrible scandal it would cause if I were arrested, they would neverallow the matter to pass their lips, Mr. Hamilton, indeed, making theextraordinary declaration that such a crime had extenuatingcircumstances when love was at stake. I then saw that I had fallen thevictim of some clever conspiracy; but so utterly overcome was I by theawful scene that I could make but faint protest.

  "Ah! think of my horrible position--accused of a crime of which I wasentirely innocent! The days slipped on, and I was sent back to Amiens,and in due course came home here to dear old Glencardine. From that dayI have lived in constant fear, until on the night of the ball atConnachan--you remember the evening, dad?--on that night Mr. Flockartreturned in secret, beckoned me out upon the lawn, and showed mesomething which held me petrified in fear. It was a cutting from anEdinburgh paper that evening reporting that two of the forest-guards atPontarme had discovered the body of the missing Miss Bryant, and thatthe French police were making active inquiries."

  "He threatened you?" asked Walter.

  "He told me to remain quiet, and that he and Lady Heyburn would do theirbest to shield me. For that reason, dad," she went on, turning to theblind man, "for that reason I feared to denounce him when I discoveredhim with your safe open, for that reason I was compelled to take all theblame and all your anger upon myself."

  The old man's brow knit. "Where is my wife?" he asked. "I must speak toher before we go further. This is a very serious matter."

  "Lady Heyburn is still at Park Street," Flockart replied.

  "I will hear no more," declared the blind Baronet, holding up his hand,"not another word until my wife is present."