The Red Window

"Yes, he would," contradicted the old lady, taking a pinch of snuff. "Bah! don't talk to me. Liar and rogue, murderer and thief are written all over him. My dear girls, the man is a danger to society. I want to see him hanged. He would have hanged Bernard."

"That's true enough," said Conniston; "but for the sake of the family, I don't want to see Julius hanged. So long as he tells the truth and lets Bernard take his place in society I don't care."

"He won't let Bernard take his place in society," insisted Miss Berengaria, quietly. "I daresay I am vindictive, but that young reptile – ugh!" She shuddered and took another pinch of snuff.

"Are you sure he is guilty?" asked Lucy, timidly.

"Quite sure," said Durham, gravely. "I have evidence," and he produced a handkerchief.

"Tell us all about it, Durham," said Miss Plantagenet, briskly. "The sooner we learn the truth the better. I am getting very tired of this connection with the Police Court. I have read detective novels," added the old lady, emphatically, "and I never liked them. To have one in real life and under my respectable roof is more than I can bear. Durham, you have an hour before you need catch your train. Tell us all. Then you can clear out, and you, Conniston, can go also. Lucy, I shall send Jerry back to the Hall with you."

"No, please not, Jerry," said Lucy.

"He is a scamp," replied Miss Berengaria, after a pause. "Well – well, we shall see. Meantime, freeze our blood, Durham."

This the lawyer proceeded to amidst a dead silence. No one interrupted him until his recital was ended. To make things clear, he narrated his discoveries from the very beginning, and recounted his interview with Mrs. Gilroy, with Tolomeo and with Beryl. At the end of his story everyone looked at one another. Lucy shuddered and hid her face, overwhelmed by the discovery of the wickedness of the man she had been engaged to. Alice was quite pale, thinking of the nets in which Bernard had been caught, and which were now on the eve of being broken, that he might escape. Conniston said a word under his breath not exactly fitted for the drawing-room, but which was overheard by Miss Berengaria and approved by that lady.

"Thank you, Conniston," she said, taking a pinch of snuff with relish. "Never tell me that I am not a judge of character. I knew that scamp was the murderer ages ago. I said so. Now" – she addressed Durham with a suddenness which made him jump – "what's to be done?"

"I intend to have Beryl arrested."

"And then?"

"I shall make Bernard give himself up. The whole case must be tried in court. Also I shall have Michael arrested."

"But why, if he is innocent?"

"My dear Miss Plantagenet," said the lawyer, slowly, "Mrs. Gilroy is an important witness in this case. She is hiding. As soon as she sees that her son is arrested, and in danger of being condemned as an accessory before the fact, she will come out and give evidence to show that he acted merely as the tool of Beryl. In a word, she will save him."

"Which is four or five words. Well, Durham, I don't say but what you are right, and if – Good gracious, what's that?"

This was the sudden entrance of Maria, looking pale. She hurried up to her mistress and caught her arm. "Oh, ma'am, come to see that poor gentleman," she said. "He is very ill – I don't know what's the matter."

Neither Miss Berengaria nor the others were startled; it was to be expected that Michael would have frequent lapses in his illness.

The old lady rose at once to the occasion. "Send Jerry at once for Dr. Payne," she said sharply.

"Please, ma'am, Jerry has left the house."

"Left the house! What do you mean?"

Maria explained. "I haven't seen Jerry since six o'clock," she declared; "he brought me up the cup of tea you ordered for the poor sick gentleman."

"I ordered no tea," said Miss Berengaria, with uneasiness.

"Jerry said you did, ma'am," persisted the maid; "he brought it to me, and said you wished the gentleman to drink it at once. He waited while the gentleman did so, and then said he would tell you. I forgot to mention it, ma'am, when you came up after dinner."

Durham nodded significantly and rose. "I will go for Dr. Payne," he said, walking to the door. "Is the gentleman ill?"

"Very, sir. He says he has a burning pain in his stomach."

Durham nodded again and glanced at the old lady. "You were right," he said gravely, "there is something wrong," and he disappeared to fetch the doctor.

"Where is Jerry gone?" asked Miss Berengaria.

"I don't know, ma'am. James said he went out at half-past six with his bag, complaining you had sent him away."

"James should have stopped him, or have told me."

"So he says, ma'am, now."

"When it is too late," said the angry Miss Berengaria. "Alice, come with me. Conniston, you can wait here with Miss Randolph," and before the couple could say a word, the old lady hurried out of the room, followed by Alice. Both were oppressed by a sense of anxiety.

Michael was very ill and in great pain. Sitting up in bed, he was pressing both hands to his stomach and moaning. "Oh, give me water – water," he entreated, when the women appeared. "I am dying of thirst."

While Miss Berengaria gave him drink, Alice looked into the tea-cup, which still stood on the table beside the bed. At the bottom there was a white sediment. "Something has been given to you in your tea," she said, turning pale.

"It was some time after drinking the tea that I felt ill," moaned Michael, rocking to and fro. "Oh, how I suffer."

"Jerry brought the tea," began Miss Plantagenet, when Michael interrupted her with a scream.

"Jerry! Jerry! It's Beryl's work. Jerry did anything he told him. I believe he has poisoned me. Call him up – call him up."

"Jerry has gone away," said Miss Berengaria, very pale.

"Lost! Lost!" moaned Michael. "Ah, this was why he made me sign the will – this was why – oh, heavens! how I suffer – suffer – the pain – the pain. Help me – help me! I am poisoned!"

Both the terrified women looked at one another, for even Miss Berengaria, strong-minded as she was, felt her nerve give way under this unexpected catastrophe. Then Alice advanced to the bedside, and from sheer force of habit addressed Michael by the false name he had assumed. "Bernard – "

"I am not Bernard," he screamed, rocking and rocking. "I will confess all. I am a dead man. Beryl won't give me the money now. He wants it all to himself. He has made Jerry poison me. I am to die as Sir Simon died. I am lost – lost – lost. Oh, what a wicked man I have been."

"Make atonement while you can," said Miss Berengaria, taking swift advantage of the opportunity. "Listen. We have known for some time that you are not Bernard Gore, and – "

Michael paid no attention, but kept on rocking in an agony of pain. "Help me – save me!" he moaned. "Oh, great heavens!"

"Payne will be here directly," said the old lady. "Maria" – the maid was in the room by this time – "go down and bring up some boiling water. We will apply hot flannels to his stomach."

"Meanwhile," said Alice, when the maid ran out, "tell us about yourself, Michael."

"Michael – Michael," he muttered, with the perspiration beading his brow. "You know my name. I thought you took me for Gore."

"Never. Bernard Gore is alive. We pretended to believe you, so that in the end you might be induced to confess."

"And now you have poisoned me."

"Certainly not," cried Miss Plantagenet, quickly. "Jerry gave you the cup of tea."

"He said you told him to bring it up."

"I did not. He brought it up himself, and has now left the house. As soon as he knew you had drunk it, he left the house. And now that I remember," added Miss Berengaria, sharply, "Beryl was talking privately to the boy before he went away."

"Yes! Yes! It is Beryl who has done this. Oh, I will confess all. It was Beryl who killed Sir Simon."

"We know that, and – ah, here is Payne. Doctor, I am glad you have come. Do you know – "

"I know a great deal," said Payne. "Mr. Durham talked to me while we drove along. He met me half-way to Hurseton. Come, we must get to work."

He asked Alice and Durham, who had entered, to leave the room, and began to attend to the wretched man. Maria came up with hot water and then hurried down for oil and mustard. Payne took up the cup which Miss Berengaria pointed out and examined it. He touched the sediment with the tip of his finger and tasted it. "Arsenic," said he.

"Good Lord!" cried the old lady, sitting down heavily, "and in my own house. Doctor, that boy must be arrested. Are you sure?"

"Certain. Arsenic has been administered. That is why he feels these burning pains. Give me the oil and mustard. We must give him an emetic, so that he may get rid of the poison. We may save him yet."

"You must save him!" cried Miss Berengaria, lending a hand readily, "for his evidence is needed to convict Beryl of murder."

"Mr. Durham told me something of this, but not all," said Payne, going on with the business. "Go down and leave the man to me for a time, Miss Berengaria. I will call you when he is better."

By this time Michael was almost insensible with pain, but Miss Plantagenet left the room at once. Hurrying down to the drawing-room, she found the four young people waiting there with scared faces. Even Durham was startled by the expedition with which Julius had carried out his plan of ridding himself of an undesirable witness.

"Though he's a fool," said the lawyer, emphatically. "He should have made Jerry wait for a few days."

"And to use such an obvious poison," said Miss Berengaria; "it is arsenic that has been administered."

"Michael will confess now, though," said Alice. "I do hope he won't die. Mr. Durham, where are you going?"

"To the Hurseton telegraph office. The doctor's trap is at the door now. I wish to wire to Scotland Yard, so that Jerry may be caught."

"Don't go," implored Alice, "at any time Michael may be able to speak, and I wish you to write down his confession."

"I will go," said Conniston, jumping up. "Write down the wire, Durham. The sooner Jerry is tracked the better. We shall catch Julius yet."

"I only hope we'll save Michael," muttered Durham, going to Miss Plantagenet's desk. "Come here, Conniston."

When the wire was written – and a long one it was – Conniston made free with Payne's trap and drove to Hurseton, where he sent it at once to London. Meantime, those in the drawing-room talked over the matter and waited to hear from the doctor. After an hour he made his appearance. "He is better," he announced; "the mustard and oil made him sick. I think he has got rid of the poison. He wants to see you, Mr. Durham."

"I'll go at once," said the lawyer, while Alice clasped her hands.

But Payne stopped him. "No. I want the man to have a short sleep first," he said, "and I am returning to watch beside him. I will ring the bell when he is better and able to speak."

It was late that night or rather early next morning before the household retired. Miss Berengaria, thinking the servants had better know as little as possible, sent them to bed, retaining only Maria to wait on her personally. Then Conniston returned, and the five sat in the drawing-room talking. About two in the morning the bell in the turret chamber was heard to ring. Durham, with writing materials, hastened up at once. Alice wanted to go, but Miss Berengaria made her stop. Then she sent Conniston to the Hall to tell any servant who was waiting up that Miss Randolph would remain that night at the Bower. "And when you return, you can sleep also," she said.

Durham found Michael better but weak. He was lying back on his pillows in an almost exhausted condition, and Payne was feeling his pulse. "I wanted him to wait till the dawn," said the doctor, "but he insists on speaking."

"I might die," said Michael, his eyes large and bright and his voice hoarse. "I want my revenge on this man who tried to poison me."

"Are you sure Beryl – "

"I am quite sure. Jerry brought up the tea, and arsenic was in it. I know Beryl wanted to get all the estate to himself. Tell me" – Michael looked anxiously towards Durham – "is Gore alive?"

"Yes. Miss Malleson and Miss Plantagenet knew you were Michael Gilroy as soon as you came."

"And they fooled me."

"They did," admitted Durham, promptly, "and I did also. I allowed you to make that false will, so as to trap Beryl."

"Ah! and he will be trapped and hanged," said the boy, bitterly. "I only hope I'll be alive to see him swing."

"Mr. Durham," said Payne, removing his finger from the patient's pulse, "if you want to hear this confession you had better get to work at once. I cannot allow him to talk long."

"I'll begin," said Michael, in a stronger voice, and without further preamble he began to talk in a slow, monotonous voice, almost without a pause. Durham took down his words swiftly.

"My name is Michael Gilroy," said the lad, quietly. "I am the son of Walter Gore, the father of Bernard, and of Mrs. Gilroy, who was the housekeeper at the Hall. My father deceived her by a false marriage, as at the time, although my mother did not know, he was already married to a Signora Tolomeo."

"You are sure of that?" asked Durham. "Your mother said – "

"I know – I know, but she is wrong. She wanted to make me out the heir. But I am three years younger than my half-brother. It was a false marriage. When my mother discovered the truth, she went to America with me. My father allowed us an income. When he died, my mother was starving with me in New York. She came to this country and saw my grandfather, Sir Simon, in London. He heard her story and was sorry for her. Then he offered her the post of housekeeper at the Hall, and promised to provide for her after his death. But he would only assist her on condition that I was sent back to the States. I returned, and my mother kept me out of her wages. She has been a good mother to me – "

"Take this," said Payne, holding wine to his lips, for his voice was growing weaker.

Michael drank, and continued at once. "My mother had an idea of making me the heir. But, as I told her, that was impossible. She had told Sir Simon too much at first. I remained in the States till I was over twenty, then I came to England. Sir Simon got me a post in the city. I did not like the work, and I idled. He often assisted me. I behaved very badly."

"I know that," said Durham, pausing in his writing. "You forged a check made payable to Bernard Gore."

Michael laughed weakly. "I did," he said. "I wanted money and I got a thousand pounds by that."

"How is it that you are so poor?"

"Because Beryl took the money from me. He wanted money also, and he threatened to have me arrested for the murder if I did not give him all. I spent very little of it. He took all, and then left me to starve. I came here, and – "

"Wait a bit; I want to know about your impersonation of Gore?"

"That was Beryl's idea also. He met me in the city, as Sir Simon one day sent him to pay me money. He was struck by my likeness to my half-brother, and even then he resolved to make use of me. But there was no chance until Bernard quarrelled with Sir Simon. Then Beryl found that Gore had enlisted in the Imperial Yeomanry. He told me that Sir Simon was coming to town to live in Crimea Square, and he was afraid lest he should become reconciled to Bernard. Beryl, knowing how proud Sir Simon was, persuaded me to impersonate Bernard by dressing up as an Imperial Yeoman, and arranged that I should make love to a housemaid – "

"So as to get into the house?"

"Yes; and so as to let the fact get to Sir Simon's ears. Beryl thought that if Sir Simon knew that Bernard was making love to a servant, he would cast him off for ever. Well, I did make the acquaintance of the housemaid and visited at the house, keeping well out of sight of my mother."

"She did not know you were there?"

"No. Whenever she was heard coming I got out of the way. She really thought from Jane's description that I was my half-brother."

"When did you forge the check?"

"Just before I met Jane at the beginning of October. Beryl and I both wanted the money. I could imitate Bernard's writing, as Beryl got me some letters of his. I forged the check and got the money. Then Beryl afterwards took it from me."

"And did Sir Simon know of the forgery?" said Durham, thinking of what had been said to him by Tolomeo.

"I am coming to that," went on Michael, after another drink of wine. "I visited at the house as I said, and Sir Simon came to know that – as he thought – Bernard was about the place. He sent down on the evening of the committal of the crime to ask me up. I was afraid, and I ran away."

"Why did you return before ten?"

"Ah, you know that, do you?" said Michael, with a weak smile. "I returned because it struck me that there might be some difficulty about the check, and I thought I would see Sir Simon about it myself. I fancied he might have me arrested. On the other hand, I thought he might truly think it was Bernard, and then that would assist Beryl's plans for keeping him out of the property. I came to the house just after ten. My mother opened the door. When she saw me, she ordered me away. I refused to go."

"Why was that?"

Michael hesitated for a moment. "I have not told you my real reason for coming," he said at length. "It was Beryl's plan. He arranged to go to the theatre, and that I should come to the house at that time. I saw him between six and eight. He told me that he would send Jerry to lure Bernard to the Crimea Square house – "

"How did he know where Bernard was?"

"He kept a watch on Bernard through Jerry. It was arranged that I should see Sir Simon and make things safe for myself about the check should there be any trouble. I thought that was Beryl's plan at the time," said Michael, restlessly, "but now I see that he intended murder. I was to go as Bernard, and when I left, the old man was to be killed. Then Bernard, brought by Jerry, would be on the spot and would be arrested."

"And that is exactly what happened."

"I know. But I swear I did not know it at the time," said Michael, earnestly. "I really believed all was safe. Had I guessed that Beryl intended murder, I should not have gone to see Sir Simon. But I did go. He knew about the check and threatened to have me arrested. There was an Italian hidden in the room. Sir Simon called him, and when I saw him I ran away."

"Why did you do that?"

"I thought he was a detective, and that Sir Simon intended to arrest me at once. I ran away and went home. That is all I know."

Durham was disappointed. "But you surely know who killed – "

"No," interrupted Michael. "I suspected Beryl. I think he killed him, but I am not sure. Next day, when the murder was proclaimed, and it was said Bernard was drowned, Beryl came to me, and told me to lie quiet in case I should be arrested for the crime. He then took all my money by threatening to have me arrested as the murderer."

"But if you had told this story, and used Tolomeo as a witness – "

"Tolomeo? who is he? I know no one of that name."

"He was the man you took for a detective."

"Well, then, not knowing who he really was, how could I have cleared myself? Beryl could have accused me."

"Tolomeo could have cleared you. He was with Sir Simon when you left, and Sir Simon was alive. What happened then?"

"I lay quiet. Then I grew afraid, and hid myself in different places. Beryl found me out, and persuaded me to come here to personate Bernard, and make a will. He promised me that I should get half the money. I intended to vanish when I made the will, and then Beryl arranged to get the money somehow – "

"But how did you expect to deceive Miss Malleson?"

"I didn't. I intended to tell her the truth, as I was weary of Beryl's tricks. But when I saw that she and Miss Plantagenet took me for Bernard, I resolved to carry on the plot. Then Beryl came and the will was signed. You know the rest."

Michael's voice had been growing weaker and weaker. Finally his eyes closed, and he laid his head back on the pillow. "He has fainted again," said Payne. "You must wait till he recovers for the signature."

CHAPTER XXI

YOUNG JUDAS

The next morning Michael was pronounced to be out of danger by Dr. Payne, and appended his signature to the confession. He still held to his indignant attitude against Beryl, and was most anxious that he should be arrested. So far as he knew, Beryl was innocent of the crime; but Durham knew better. Having the evidence of Tolomeo and possession of the fatal handkerchief, he was perfectly content to believe that Julius was guilty. Since he was one of the Gore family, it was a grave question as to whether he should be arrested. But seeing that Bernard's character could not be cleared until the whole truth came out, and the wrongdoer suffered for his wickedness, it was agreed that a warrant should be obtained for the guilty person. This business was entrusted to Durham, and he departed for town by the mid-day train.

"And you can ride over to the castle, Conniston," he said to that young gentleman, who accompanied him to the station, "and tell Bernard to hold himself in readiness to come to London."

"Will he be arrested?"

"I fancy so. But I can't yet be sure. At all events, Beryl will be accused and taken in charge, so Bernard will soon be set free."

"What about Jerry?"

"I will go to Scotland Yard as soon as I arrive, and see if anything has been heard of the young scamp. However, if we get Beryl, we may be able to do without Jerry."

"Do you intend to have Michael arrested?"

"Yes," said Durham, calmly, "as an accessory before the fact. I can't say if he is innocent or guilty."

"But, Durham, you heard him declare that he was unaware that Beryl intended to kill Sir Simon. Michael only called to see about the check."

"I doubt that part of his confession," replied the lawyer, dryly. "It appears to me that Michael would have kept out of the way had he entertained the slightest idea that Sir Simon – as he did – guessed that the check was forged. Besides, I want to have a mention of Michael Gilroy's arrest put in the papers, so that his mother may be withdrawn from her hiding-place."

"Do you think she will come?"

"I am certain. She alone knows what took place when Beryl entered the house and how he strangled the old man. I am convinced that to save her son she will denounce Julius, no matter what offer he has made to her about holding her tongue. Here's the train. Good-bye, Conniston, and bring Bernard up to town when I send a wire."

The train steamed off, and Conniston was left standing on the platform. "I do hope all this business will soon be at an end," he said to himself. "I am about weary of surprises."

Already it had been arranged that Miss Berengaria should keep an eye on Michael – who never expected to be arrested – so Conniston had no need to return to the Bower. Mounting his horse he took his way along the high-road to the castle, and arrived there somewhere about two o'clock. As there was no one about the place he put up the horse himself, and then came to the front door. Much to his surprise it was locked, but a vigorous ringing of the bell brought Mrs. Moon to the door. That estimable lady looked worried, and her pallid face was whiter than ever, gleaming like the moon itself from the frilling of her cap. When she saw her master, she lifted up her large hands.

"Goodness be praised your lordship has come," said she, with a moan and groan combined in a most extraordinary way. "Have you seen my wicked Victoria, your lordship?"

"No. Has she gone away?"

"Last night," said Mrs. Moon, drifting into the hall. "Bless your lordship dear, she went away before ten o'clock in her best things, saying she would be back. And not an eye have I set on her since. But then I expect the coming of Jerry upset her."

"Jerry!" shouted Conniston, throwing down his cap. "Did you say that Jerry was here?"

"Yes. He's here, your lordship, and he has sent Mr. Grant mad. As soon as Jerry set eyes on Mr. Grant last night, when he come at nine o'clock, he had his hair standing on end. Mr. Grant, he was amazed-like also, and took Jerry to his room. There he have kept him locked up, and wished to send a messenger to your dear lordship, and – "

Conniston waited to hear no more. He tore up the stairs two at a time, and burst red-faced and excited into Bernard's sitting-room.