CHAPTER XXIII
THE END OF THE GRAY PHANTOM
A thin and stoop-shouldered old man, with a kindly gleam in his sunkeneyes, gave The Phantom a warm handclasp when, three days later, hewalked into the drawing room of the Hardwick's residence.
"How is Miss Hardwick?" was his first question.
"As well as ever, sir," declared her father. "The antidote seems tohave worked like a charm. I needn't tell you that I am deeply gratefulto you, and----" He paused and looked uncertainly at The Phantom. "Iwonder if you can ever forgive me for intercepting those letters. Iwas a meddlesome old fool."
"You did what you thought best, Mr. Hardwick. Anyway, all's well thatends well. Please don't think about the matter."
"Thank you for saying that. I'll call my daughter immediately."
He withdrew, and The Phantom sat down. His eyes were keen and brightand there was a new vim and confidence in his manner. He had severalreasons for feeling highly elated. Starr and his men, trapped in thesecret chamber, had been lodged in jail. The seven capitalists wererecovering rapidly following the administration of the antidote.Starr, after a thorough sweating by the police, had grudginglyrevealed the whereabouts of Culligore and Fairspeckle, and they hadbeen rescued from their uncomfortable position under the ThelmaTheater. Incidentally, the room had been found to contain a greatamount of loot stored up by Starr's organization. The full story ofThe Gray Phantom's achievements had been published in the newspapers,and strong efforts were being made to have all outstanding indictmentsagainst him quashed. His adventure had been successful in everyrespect.
He sprang up as Helen, with a wild-rose flush in her rather palecheeks, ran into the room.
"Gray Phantom!" she whispered.
His smile was a trifle sad. "The Gray Phantom is dead," he murmured.Then his face brightened. A whimsical light came into his eyes. "Butin my gardens at Sea Glimpse I am trying to bring out a little grayorchid that is to be planted on his grave, symbolizing whatever wasgood in him. I am thinking of calling it The Phantom Orchid."
"How poetic!" she exclaimed. "But I don't quite like to think of TheGray Phantom as dead. He was so splendid in many ways, just like thehero of my poor little play. All he needed was to have the good in himbrought to the surface. And that reminds me--the hero of my play was_you_!"
The Phantom nodded. "I was conceited enough to suspect it as soon as Isaw the reviews in the papers."
Helen looked as if her thoughts were wandering away from the present."The weirdest experience of my life was when I saw Starr enact therole of the hero in my play. He actually _lived_ the part. And it wasthen I first suspected he was Mr. Shei."
The Phantom seemed puzzled.
"I am not sure I can explain. The idea that Starr was Mr. Shei came tome like a flash, yet there was quite a little feminine logic behindit. My hero was modeled after you, but Starr enhanced the resemblance.He introduced things that were not in my play, but which made thesimilarity between my hero and you all the more striking. His gesturesand mannerisms were all yours. As I sat there marveling at it, thename of Mr. Shei suddenly leaped into my mind. I think Virginia Darrowmust have felt the same thing. From time to time she looked at Starrin the strangest way, as if she had suddenly made a startlingdiscovery."
"Hm," mumbled The Phantom. "Perhaps that was why she sent Starr thatfacetious note."
"Afterward my impressions grew somewhat confused," Helen continued."The whole thing--Starr's acting and Miss Darrow's strangeconduct--seemed sort of unreal. It was as if an illusion had beenshattered the moment Starr disappeared from the stage and the curtainwent down. The officers argued that Mr. Shei could be nobody but TheGray Phantom. Their arguments made me very uneasy, and after my talkwith Culligore the next day I felt I must see you. On the impulse ofthe moment I got on a train." She shuddered a little, as if somehorrifying recollection had come back to her. "It all seems like anugly dream--and I am not sure even now that I am quite awake."
For a time they sat silent, gazing dreamily into the soft sunlight.
"Helen," said The Phantom at length, "I feel as if a great black cloudhad lifted from my life."
"I feel that way too."
He found her hand and held it. For a moment his thoughts went back tothe day when his fingers had first touched hers.
"Helen," he murmured, "you and I have schemed together and dreamedtogether and shared all sorts of dangers together. I wonder if wecouldn't----"
Her misty-bright eyes met his. A smile, warm, radiant, and tender,came to her lips.
"Yes," she whispered, "why couldn't we?"
THE END
Transcriber's notes:
Original publication data:
Publisher: W. J. Watt & Company, New York Copyright: 1921, by W. J. Watt & Company Printer: Braunworth & Co., Book Manufacturers, Brooklyn, N. J.
Original dedication:
To H. B., The Other Helen
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