Guilty Bonds
murderer and to send him to the gallows? Should I not beeven fulfilling my duty in doing so, as well as avenging my own wrongsat the same time?
Yes. I resolved, after much commune with myself, to do this on themorrow. First I would compel Vera to disclose his name, then seek himout, and hand him over to the police.
With these and other maddening thoughts coursing through my brain I hadcast myself upon the trunk of a fallen tree, and must have sat there forsome time as, when I became conscious of things about me, the grey dawnhad appeared through the fast-falling foliage.
Rising, I slowly retraced my steps to the house, pacing the terraceseveral times in deep soliloquy. The stars had disappeared, the chillbreeze stirred the boughs softly, and the air was impregnated with theperfume of decaying leaves. How well I remember leaning upon the stonebalustrade, gazing away down the misty Dene, and reflecting that ere themorrow's sun had set Vera and I would be parted forever; for after sucha discovery I could trust her no longer, neither could we be anythingmore to each other than strangers.
Need I say how heartily I cursed myself for having been prevailed uponto visit her at Richmond, to listen to her lame excuses, to be softenedby her endearing words? No. For the thousandth time I told myself Ihad been fascinated by her beauty in the way the bird is fascinated bythe snake; her toils were about me, and until the present moment I hadalways been too weak to tear them asunder, to lift the veil from my owneyes, and see her in her true character--that of an adventuress.
But that time had now arrived, and though I confess I was beside myselfwith grief to find the woman I had loved so fondly, guilty of suchscheming and such treachery, I was, nevertheless, pleased to be inpossession of the truth. Now I was aware of the worst, and should knowhow to act.
Presently I turned and passed through the French window into my study.It was useless retiring, for I could not sleep with such thoughtsgnawing at my heart, so I flung myself into my writing-chair andthought.
I sat motionless until the warm sun shone through the open window andthe birds outside had broken forth into song, when it occurred to methat as I had resolved to leave the place in a few hours it would bewell to place my papers in order. This I commenced to do.
There lay scattered upon the table a deed relating to some property, andseveral letters of a private nature, upon which I had been engagedbefore taking my stroll on the previous night. With the object ofplacing them under lock and key I was thoughtfully collecting them whenthere fell from amongst the heap of papers a piece of red sealing-wax,about the size of a sixpence.
Rarely having occasion to use wax myself I took up the fragment, andfound it had the appearance of being the rough corner of a seal that hadchipped off the paper to which it had been affixed.
"Some one must have been here in my absence," I exclaimed aloud,glancing at the taper which also lay upon the table, at the same timenoticing a small spot of wax that had apparently been dropped upon theleather. Then I remembered that if any one had been in the study duringthe night they had, without doubt, made themselves acquainted with thecontents of the paper, and with the rough copy of my will which I hadcarelessly left about.
I glanced at the scrap of wax again and found upon the margin, close towhere it was broken, there was an impression of something.
This might give me a clue to the identity of the member of my householdwho required sealing-wax in the middle of the night.
Going to the window, the stronger light revealed a strange character,something of the shape of the letter B, but having a long excrescence infront.
In a moment I recognised it as one of the hieroglyphics of the mysticseal!
Nervousness is not one of my afflictions, yet I looked round that roominvoluntarily viewing the curtains with suspicion, as if half afraid Ishould witness something supernatural appear from behind them.
It was obvious that some one with the seal in his or her possession hadcome to my study in my absence during the dark hours of the night forthe purpose of obtaining an impression in wax, and that the piece whichhad served as a clue had accidentally chipped off, alighting amongst thepapers.
That some one in the house held the seal there could not be theslightest doubt, and my thoughts at once flew to the man whom Vera hadclandestinely met--he whom I knew to be the murderer of Mrs Inglewood.
Who had he marked out as his next victim?
If he entertained affection for Vera, and she reciprocated it, what wasmore natural than that they should wish to rid themselves of me? Ishuddered at the thought. My wife could surely never be an accessory toa murder--yet such things were not unknown, I told myself.
Yes; my surmise must be correct. My wife's lover was only waiting for afavourable opportunity to strike the fatal blow.
He was not aware, however, that I had espied his presence, hadrecognised him; nor that by mere chance I had learned that an attemptwas to be made upon my life.
"I can thwart their vile plot, even now!" I said bitterly, holding thepiece of wax in my hand, and gazing upon it. "I will see Vera and firstgive her an opportunity to justify herself. If it is unsatisfactory Ishall then give information to the police, and have the murdererarrested," and I even smiled at the thought that, after all, I held thetrump card.
Just at that moment the door opened, a head was poked in, and a voiceexclaimed: "Halloa, old fellow, why you look as if you hadn't been tobed! I heard somebody chattering, and thought there must be visitors,yet it's rather early. Talking to yourself, it seems."
"What's the time?" I exclaimed rather brusquely, at the same momenttaking out my watch.
"Half-past five," he replied. "Coming out with me for a walk? Astretch at this hour of the morning will do you good."
"No, thanks; I'm not an athlete," I replied. "Very well. But, by Jove,what's the matter with you this morning? If you'd had a bad night atbaccarat and were stone broke you couldn't look worse."
"Matter with me? Nothing!" I replied, endeavouring to smile, "exceptthat I've been very busy writing."
"Take my tip and go to bed, old fellow. A couple of hours there willfreshen you up wonderfully. But, good-bye, if you won't come for astroll."
"Good-bye: see you at breakfast," I replied abruptly, as the headwithdrew and the door closed.
The intruder was Demetrius Hertzen, Vera's cousin, a tall,broad-shouldered fellow about my own age, who had an abundance ofspirits, which made him a most agreeable companion.
In response to my invitation he had arrived from Brussels a fortnightpreviously, and had signified his ability to remain my guest for anothermonth. I had only met him once before, at our marriage, but when he hadbeen with us a few days, I found he had many tastes in common withmyself,--that he knew London quite as well as Paris or Brussels, andthat although used to rather fast society perhaps, he was nevertheless athoroughly good fellow.
Vera and he had been children together, and laughingly admitted theywere sweethearts before they had gained their teens, but that whenDemetrius arrived at the mature age of fifteen he transferred hisaffections. Cautiously I had approached my guest with a view to learnsomething of his cousin's past, but he seemed remarkably shrewd, andcarefully warded off every indirect question I put to him on thesubject.
Possibly it was at Vera's request that he would not tell me what heknew, yet upon this matter only was he silent, as he conversed freely ofhis own doings and acquaintances, and of his life since leaving thepaternal roof, for though a Russian, he spoke English almost perfectly,and only in certain words could the accent be detected.
Somehow, though our acquaintance had been but brief, I had becomegreatly attached to him, such a mirthful cosmopolitan was he, brimmingover with humour and good-fellowship and as light-hearted as his fatherwas dark and sullen. He seemed to be untroubled by any thought or care,the sole object of his existence being to get the greatest amount ofenjoyment out of life, and cause amusement to his companions.
Perplexed and uneasy, I longed for some one in whom to confide, andaft
er he had gone, as I stood there brooding, I almost regretted I hadnot told him of my suspicions, and enlisted his sympathy and aid intracking the murderer.
I knew, were I to tell him of my discovery of Vera's faithlessness, hewould readily render any assistance, and even give me advice that Imight follow with advantage. I had no one else near to whom I couldspeak, and after considerable deliberation I at last determined to takehim into my confidence, provided I obtained an opportunity of speakingwith him alone after breakfast.
To my pocket-book I transferred the mysterious piece of sealing-wax, andthen sadly and thoughtfully resumed the task of putting my papers inorder.
It took some time, and when finished I set about making preparations formy journey.
First I drew a cheque in favour of myself for a good round sum, then Isat down and wrote a long letter to Vera, which I intended she shouldread after I had gone.
Full of