CHAPTER XIII.
[PERPLEXITY.]
After all, it is true that the unexpected always happens. In my unraveling of the Fen Inn mystery I never for a moment expected to find that Francis was alive. I was even ignorant that Felix had been to the inn on that night. He had ridden round the back way of the house, and, as my room was over the front door, I had not heard his arrival. Under these circumstances it was easy for me to make the mistake, and think the dead man was Francis, particularly as I was misled by the marvelous resemblance between the brothers, and, moreover, saw the pearl ring on the finger of the corpse. My mistake was a perfectly excusable one, and I had been confirmed in such erroneous belief by the adroit fashion in which Francis, for his own safety, kept up the deception.
Now I knew the truth, that Francis was alive and Felix dead, yet as regards the name of the man who had committed the crime I was still quite in the dark. Rose Gernon knew, but it was questionable whether she would confess, even to save her own skin. Either she or Strent was the guilty person, as none other was in the inn at that time. Strent had vanished, but no doubt she knew his whereabouts. The question was whether she would tell.
"Oh, she'll tell where he is, right enough," said Merrick, to whom I put this view of the matter, "especially if she is guilty herself."
"You don't think she is the criminal, Merrick?"
"There is no reason why she should not be," he replied argumentatively. "She had every reason to hate Felix Briarfield. He had promised to marry her, and was engaged to Olivia. Quite enough reason there for a jealous woman such as she seems to be."
"But she wanted Felix to kill his brother, so that she might force him to marry her."
"Yes; but that little arrangement did not come off. My idea is that she saw Felix when he arrived at the inn, and asked him straight out if he had arranged to marry Olivia. She would hear of the engagement while passing through Marshminster on her way to the lone inn. No doubt Felix lied about the matter, and she lost her temper. It may be that she did not intend to kill him, but, having the poisoned arrowhead in her hand, forgot how dangerous it was, and threw herself on him. He put out his hand to keep her off, and so was wounded. Then he died, and, terrified at what the consequences might be, she and Strent left the inn."
"But what about her blackmailing Francis?"
"She guessed what Francis had done, and saw a chance of securing her aims by putting the murder on to him. He had so compromised himself by his foolish actions that, of course, he was afraid to denounce her."
"Still, why did she want to marry him? She loved Felix, not Francis."
"It's my opinion she loved neither of them," said Merrick dryly, "and simply wanted to marry for respectability."
"Do you think she will denounce Strent?"
"She'll denounce anyone to save herself."
"Won't you come and hear her confession, Merrick?"
"Not I. A respectable practitioner like myself has no business to be mixed up in such criminality. Hitherto I have been the sleeping partner in this affair, and you have carried through my ideas excellently well. Continue to do so, and then come and tell me all about it."
"Very pleasant for you," I grumbled; "but I have all the hard work."
Merrick laughed and pushed me out of the door. He had a dozen patients waiting, and could spare no more time. He said one last word before I left.
"Oh, by the way, Denham," said he, lifting a warning forefinger, "don't you trust that Rose Gernon in the least. I've been making inquiries about her, and she has a black record--about the worst in London, I should say."
On my way to Jermyn Street I wondered how he had gained this information. A specialist of Merrick's standing does not go round making inquiries about loose characters. Yet I knew he spoke the truth. His faculty for learning things was marvelous. Decidedly, Merrick should have been a detective. His opinion about Rose Gernon coincided with mine. One had only to look in her face to see what she was.
At Jermyn Street I found Francis, eagerly waiting for my arrival.
"I've sent down to the Marshminster police," said he quickly, "and instructed them to drag the pool near the Fen Inn."
"I am afraid you'll get into trouble over that, Briarfield."
"I don't care," said Francis doggedly. "I have been a coward too long. Had I trusted you, and told all, there would not have been this trouble. If the police arrest me, they can just do so, and I'll leave it to you to see me through."
"I hope we'll learn the truth from Rose to-day."
"It's possible, but not probable. She'll lie like the devil, whose daughter she is."
"I'm not too sure of that. If she is guiltless, she'll be only too anxious to save her own neck. Why should she risk her liberty for the sake of this man Strent? Who is he?"
"I haven't the least idea."
"Then we'll make Rose tell today--or have her arrested."
"There is not sufficient evidence against her," objected Francis.
"Yes, there is. I'll take the risk of all that. Before Rose Gernon leaves this room she has to confess the truth. It's your only chance of safety."
"But you don't believe I killed Felix?"
"I don't, but the police may. You forget how highly suspicious all your actions have been. Rose knows you have been passing as your brother, and will be sure to make capital out of it."
"You'll see me through, Denham?" he said, taking my hand.
"You can be sure of that," I answered, shaking it heartily. "I won't rest till you are safe, and the murderer of your brother is in jail."
"Who killed him, do you think?"
"I don't know, but Rose does, and we'll make her tell!"
We discussed the matter extensively, but neither of us could come to any conclusion. When the clock struck noon, Rose Gernon, true to her appointment, walked into the room. Without waiting for an invitation she sat down in a chair and scowled at me.
"That man of yours is outside," she said savagely; "he's been following me about everywhere, and watching my house all night. Perhaps you'll ask him to go away."
"That depends on the result of this conversation. You're not out of danger yet, Miss Gernon."
"I am not aware that I was ever in danger, Mr. Denham! Are you going to accuse me of killing Felix?"
"I might even do that unless you tell the truth!"
"Oh!" said she, with a sneer; "is that your game, sir? Then suppose I do tell the truth, and say you killed Felix?"
"You're quite capable of doing so, but no one would believe so wild a tale. I had no reason to kill Felix Briarfield."
"Then what motive had I for so doing?"
"That's best known to yourself," I answered tartly, weary of all this fencing.
"It is waste of time talking like this," interrupted Francis. "You must be aware, Miss Gernon, that you stand in a very dangerous position."
"Not more so than you do yourself," she replied, with superb insolence.
"Pardon me, I think otherwise. By your own confession you went down to the Fen Inn to assist my brother in getting me out of the way. You said that last night before two witnesses--Miss Bellin and Mr. Denham."
"I talked at random," she muttered. "I did not intend that any crime should be committed."
"Perhaps not. Nevertheless, my brother is dead, and you know how he died."
"I know the cause of his death, but I do not know who killed him!"
"If you know one thing, you must know the other."
"I do not! When Felix arrived, he showed Strent and I an arrowhead which he said was poisoned."
"Is this the arrowhead?" I asked, producing it out of a thick piece of paper.
"Yes; where did you get it?"
"I found it in the ashes of the fireplace where you threw it!"
"That is not true," said Miss Gernon angrily. "I did not throw it into the fireplace. I never even had it my hand--the idea that it was poisoned frightened me."
"Pray go on with your story, Miss Gernon."
"I see you don't believe me," she flashed out defiantly, "but I am telling exactly what took place. Felix said he was going to kill his brother with the poisoned arrowhead. I told him I would have none of that sort of thing; that I only consented to play the part of a waiting maid in order to deceive his brother into a meeting. I said Francis could marry Miss Bellin, and he was to marry me."
"And after that?"
"He jeered and said he intended to marry Miss Bellin. Then I grew angry and struck him!"
She was in real earnest, for her mouth was set, and her hands were clenched. Not a pretty sight by any means. I remembered Merrick's idea, and conceived that it might be possible the woman before me had killed the man who flouted her, not intentionally, but in a fit of blind rage.
"You struck him with the arrowhead?" I hinted.
"No, I didn't! He had laid that down on the table. I struck him with my open palm, and said if he killed his brother I would denounce him to the authorities as a murderer; then he would go to the scaffold instead of the altar with Miss Bellin."
"What did he say?"
"Nothing at first. Then I saw a look pass between him and Strent, and they seemed to understand one another. Felix said he would return to Marshminster, and let his brother marry Miss Bellin. I did not then know he had been passing himself off as you," she added, turning to Francis; "if I had, I would have guessed he was lying. As it was I thought he spoke the truth, and kissed him. Then I went to bed."
"And afterward?" said Francis, seeing she paused.
"Well, I never saw Felix again till he was dead."
"In the morning?"
"No. An hour after I left him. Strent knocked at my bedroom door, and asked me to come down. I guessed by his voice he was afraid, so dressed hurriedly and came downstairs. Felix was lying dead by the table. I could not see Strent, and went to look for him. He was out at the back door mounting Francis' horse. I asked him where he was going, and he said Felix was dead, and he did not want to stay in order to be accused of the crime."
"Did he say he had killed him?"
"No; nor had I time to ask him. He went off at a gallop, and left me alone with the body. I was horribly afraid, as I thought you or Francis would wake up and accuse me of the crime. Besides, I could not account for my presence in that house without suspicion. So I put on my hat and cloak and fled to Marshminster."
"How did you fly?"
"There was a trap and horse in which Strent and I had brought provisions to the inn. I harnessed the horse and drove back to Marshminster. There I returned it to the owners, and went back to London by the early train."
"What became of Strent?"
"I don't know. I have never set eyes on him since."
"Do you think he killed Felix?"
"Yes. I believe they had a row, and he killed him. But he did not admit it."
Francis and I looked at one another. The whole business was so queer as to be hardly believable. Nevertheless, we saw Rose Gernon had told the truth.
"What made you come to me?" asked Francis.
"I thought you had escaped from the inn, and wished to ask you what had become of your brother's body. Then I saw you wore the clothes of Felix, and guessed the whole game."
"Particularly as you listened to my theory at the Fen Inn," said I.
"Yes," she answered quickly; "it was your conversation which put the idea into my head. I saw that Felix had passed himself off as Francis, and afterward Francis acted the part of Felix."
"You wished to marry me," said Francis, whereat Rose laughed.
"No. I tried that game on to get the whole truth out of you. I wished you to admit you were Felix, for he had promised to marry me. However, you did not fall into the trap. And now," she added, standing up, "I have told you all, may I go?"
I consulted Francis with a look. He consented mutely.
"Yes," I said, also rising, "you may go, but my detective will still watch you."
"For how long?"
"Till Strent is found."
"You think I know," she said, tossing her head. "You are wrong. Till I met Strent at Marshminster I never saw him before, nor do I know where he now is. Take off your bloodhound."
"When Strent is found," I persisted; "not till then."
She looked wrathfully at me, and rushed out of the room.