CHAPTER XVIII.
SOME INTERESTING DISCOVERIES.
Upon entering Mrs. Montague's beautiful drawing-room, Ray found, as he had expected, that Mr. Corbin was there also, and he at once surmised the nature of the lawyer's business.
Mrs. Montague gave a start of surprise as she saw him, and lost some of her color; then recovering herself, she arose with a charming smile, and went forward to greet him.
Ray thought she looked much older than when he had seen her before, for there were dark circles under her eyes, with crows' feet at their corners, and wrinkles on her forehead and about her mouth, which he had never noticed until then, and which, somehow, seemed to change the expression of her whole face.
"This is an unexpected pleasure," she remarked, with great cordiality, "but you perceive," with a glance at the lawyers, "that I am overrun with business. May I ask you to step into the library for a few moments until I am at liberty?"
"No, if you please, madame, it is at my request that Mr. Palmer is here," quietly but decidedly interposed Mr. Graves.
Mrs. Montague flushed hotly at this interference, then seeing that she could not change the condition of affairs, and that Ray evidently understood matters, as he only bowed in the most frigid manner in response to her effusive greeting, she resigned herself to the inevitable and returned to her chair with an air of haughty defiance.
It was Mrs. Montague whom Mona had heard moving about in the chamber adjoining the boudoir.
The woman had come in just after Mary admitted that first caller below, and speeding swiftly and noiselessly up stairs, was making some changes in her toilet when the bell rang again. Mr. Corbin and Mr. Graves were at the door. She heard it, and gliding softly into the hall, leaned over the balustrade to ascertain who had called.
The moment she heard Mr. Corbin inquire for her, she grew white with passion, and her eyes flashed angrily, for she imagined that he had come to question her again regarding Mona Forester. She did not see his companion, however.
"I will give him a dose to remember this time," she muttered. Then she heard Mary inform the gentlemen that she was not at home.
"Yes, I am, Mary," she said, in a low tone, for she felt in a defiant mood, and not suspecting the fatal nature of the lawyer's visit, and feeling very secure in her own position, she rather courted an opportunity to defy him. "Invite the gentleman in, and I will be down presently."
She turned to go back to her chamber to complete her toilet, when she heard some one moving about in her boudoir.
She glided to the door, softly opened it, and looked in. Instantly her face lighted with a smile of evil triumph, though she gave a great start of surprise as she saw Mona there, and evidently searching for something.
She had already learned that the girl had managed to escape from the power of Louis and returned to New York. Therefore she now imagined that she had but just arrived and had come directly there to secure her other trunk, when doubtless she would immediately seek Ray Palmer's protection, and denounce both herself and her nephew for their plot against her.
Such a proceeding she knew would ruin all her prospects of becoming Mr. Palmer's wife, and, actuated by a sudden impulse, she hastily drew the door to again and locked it. Then she sped back to her chamber door and turned the key in that also, to prevent escape that way, and entirely forgetting in her excitement that she had intended to make still further changes in her toilet before going below.
This done, she sped swiftly down stairs, and encountered Mary in the hall.
"Lor', marm! I didn't know you had come in till you spoke," the girl remarked, with a curious stare at her.
"I have a latch-key, you know," Mrs. Montague returned, as she swept on toward the drawing-room, and the girl wondered why she "looked so strange and seemed so flustered."
Mrs. Montague entered the room with haughty mien, intending to dispose of Mr. Corbin with short ceremony, but she was somewhat taken aback when she found that he was accompanied by another legal-looking gentleman.
She had but just exchanged formal greetings with them when Ray made his appearance; but she did not suspect that he was aware of Mona's presence in the house. Mr. Graves' remark had led her to suppose that he was there by his appointment.
Mr. Corbin bowed to the young man, and remarked:
"I was about to explain to Mrs. Montague that some proofs regarding the identity of Miss Montague have recently come into my possession."
"Do you mean to assert that you have proofs that will establish the theory which you advanced to me during your last call here?" Mrs. Montague demanded, with a derisive smile.
"That is exactly what I mean, madame," Mr. Corbin replied.
Mrs. Montague tossed her head scornfully.
She was sure that the only proof in existence of Mona Forester's legal marriage was at that moment safely lying in the secret compartment of that little table up stairs. She had not seen it since her return, for she had been too busy to look over those things again and destroy such as would be dangerous, if they should fall into other hands; but she had seen them so recently she felt very secure, and did not dream that she had been guilty of any carelessness regarding them.
She knew, also, that up to the evening of Louis' last declaration to her, Mona had no proof to produce, and, supposing that she had but just returned from Havana, she did not imagine that either of the lawyers or Ray had seen her to learn anything new from her, even if she had discovered anything.
"Well, I should like to see them," she responded, contemptuously, but with a confident air that would have been very irritating to one less assured than Mr. Corbin.
He quietly drew a folded paper from his breast-pocket, opened and smoothed it out, and going to the woman's side, held it before her for examination.
She was wholly unprepared for the appalling revelation that met her eyes, and the instant that she realized that the paper was the identical certificate, which she believed to be in her own possession, she lost every atom of her color. A cry of anger and dismay broke from her, and snatching the parchment from the lawyer's hand, she sprang to her feet, crying, hoarsely:
"Where did you get it? how did it come into your possession?"
"Pray, madame, do not be so excited," Mr. Corbin calmly returned, "and be careful of that document, if you please, for it is worth a great deal to my young client. Mr. Raymond Palmer supplied me with this very necessary link in the evidence required to prove Miss Montague's identity."
"And how came Raymond Palmer to have a paper that belonged to me?" demanded Mrs. Montague, turning to him with an angry gleam in her eyes. "I have supposed him to be a gentleman—he must be a thief, else he never could have had it."
"You are mistaken in both assertions, Mrs. Montague," Ray responded, with cold dignity. "In the first place, the paper does not belong to you; it rightly belongs to your husband's daughter. In the second place, it came into my possession in a perfectly legitimate manner. On the day of your high-tea I came here a little late, if you remember. Your private parlor above was used as the gentleman's dressing-room, and I found that document lying underneath the draperies of the bay-window. I accidentally stepped upon it. It crackled beneath my feet, and it was but natural that I should wish to ascertain what was there. When I discovered the nature of the paper I felt perfectly justified in taking charge of it, in the interests of my promised wife, and so gave it into Mr. Corbin's hands."
Mrs. Montague sat like one half stunned during this explanation, for she readily comprehended how this terrible calamity had happened to overtake her. She realized that the certificate must have slipped from her lap to the floor while she was examining the other contents of that secret compartment; and, when she had been so startled by Mona's rap and upset the table, it had been pushed underneath the draperies, while, during her hurry in replacing the various articles, she had not noticed that it was missing.
"Yes, I understand," she said, in a low, constrained, despairing tone. "You have balked me at last, but," throwing back her head like some animal suddenly brought to bay, "what are you going to do about it?"
"Only what is right and just, Mrs. Montague," courteously responded Mr.
Corbin.
"Right and just!" she repeated, with bitter emphasis. "That means, I suppose, that you are going to compel me to give up my fortune."
"The law decrees that children shall have their father's property, excepting, of course, a certain portion," said the lawyer.
"A paltry one-third," retorted Mrs. Montague, angrily.
"Yes, unless the heirs choose to allow something more to the widow.
Perhaps my client—"
Mrs. Montague sprang to her feet, her face flaming with sudden passion.
"Do you suppose I would ever humiliate myself enough to accept any favor from Mona Forester's child?" she cried, as she paced the floor excitedly back and forth, "Never! I will never be triumphed over. I will defy you all! Oh, to be beaten thus!—it is more than I can bear."
Mrs. Montague's fury was something startling in its bitterness and intensity, and the three gentlemen, witnessing it, could not help feeling something of pity for the proud woman in her humiliation, even though they were disgusted with her vindictiveness and selfishness.
"Defiance will avail you nothing, Mrs. Montague; an amicable spirit would conduce far more to your advantage," Mr. Corbin remarked. "And now I advise you," he added, "to quietly relinquish all right and title to this fortune excepting, of course, your third, and trust to your husband's daughter and her counsel to make you such allowance as they may consider right. If you refuse to do this we shall be obliged to resort to the courts to settle the question of inheritance."
"Take the matter into the courts, then," was the passionate retort. "I will defy you all to the bitter end. And you," turning with blazing eyes and crimson cheeks to Ray, "I suppose you imagined that you were to win a princely inheritance with your promised wife; that when you found this piece of parchment you would thus enable Mona Forester's child to triumph over the woman who hated her with a deadly hatred. Not so, I assure you, for my vengeance is even more complete than I ever dared to hope, and your 'promised wife,' my fine young man, will never flaunt her colors in triumph over me here in New York, for her reputation has been irretrievably ruined, and the city shall ring with the vile story ere another twenty-four hours shall pass."
"Don't be too sure, madame; don't be too sure that you're going to down that clever little lady just yet," were the words which suddenly startled every one in the room, and the next instant the door swung wide open to admit a new actor in the drama.
A brisk, energetic little man entered the room, and going directly to
Mrs. Montague's side, he laid his hand upon her shoulder.
"Madame, you are my prisoner," he added, in a more quiet but intensely satisfied tone.
"What do you mean, sir?" haughtily demanded the woman, as she shook herself free from his touch. "Who are you, and how came you here?"
"Well, we'll take one question at a time, if you please, madame," the new-comer returned. "First, what do I mean? Just what I say—you are my prisoner. I arrest you for obtaining money under false pretenses—for theft, for abduction. The proof of the first charge is right here in my hand. Look!"
He opened his palm and disclosed to the horrified woman's gaze and to the amazement of the other occupants of the room two beautiful crescents of blazing diamonds.
"Heavens! where did you get them? Oh, I know—I know!" shrieked the unhappy creature, cowering and shrinking from the sight as if blinded by it, and sinking upon the nearest chair.
"Yes, I reckon you do," grimly remarked Detective Rider, for it was he, "and this clears up the Bently affair of Chicago, for here, on the back of the settings, is the very mark which Mr. Arnold of that city put upon them more than three years ago. Well, so much for that charge. Now, if Mr. Palmer will just step this way, maybe he'll recognize some of his property, and we'll explain the second and third charges."
Ray looked astonished as he went forward, but he was even more so when Mr. Rider held up before him an elegant diamond cross, which he instantly identified as one of the ornaments which the beautiful Mrs. Vanderbeck had selected on that never-to-be-forgotten day when he was decoyed into Doctor Wesselhoff's establishment and left there a prisoner, while the woman made off with her booty.
"Where did you get it?" he exclaimed, while Mrs. Montague fell back among the cushions of her chair and covered her face with her trembling hands, utterly unnerved.
"That remains to be explained, together with some other things which are no less interesting and startling," the detective returned, with an air of triumph. "And now," raising his voice a trifle, "if a certain little lady will show herself, I imagine we can entertain you with another act in this strange comedy."
As he spoke the drawing-room door, which the man had left slightly ajar when he entered, was pushed open, and Mona made her appearance with her arms full of clothing.
She glided straight to the detective's side, and handed him something which, with a dextrous movement, he clapped upon Mrs. Montague's bowed head.
It was a wig of rich, dark-red hair, which fell in lovely rings about the woman's fair forehead and white neck.
She lifted her face with a cry of terror at Mr. Rider's act, and behold! the beautiful Mrs. Vanderbeck was before them!
Ray knew at once why Mrs. Montague had looked so strangely to him as she arose to greet him when he entered.
Her face had been artistically made up, with certain applications of pencil and paint, to give her the appearance of being considerably older than she was. But he wondered how she happened to be so made up that morning.
"That is not all," Mr. Rider resumed, as he took a costly tailor-made dress from Mona's arm and held it up before his speechless auditors. "Here is the robe which was so badly rent at the time that Mrs. Vanderbeck escorted Mr. Raymond Palmer to the great Doctor Wesselhoff for treatment, while the fragment that was torn from it will fit into the hole. And here," taking another garment from Mona, "is a widow's costume in which the fascinating Mrs. Bently figured in Chicago, when she so skillfully duped a certain Mr. Cutler, swindling him out of a handsome sum of money, and giving him paste ornaments in exchange. No one would ever imagine the elegant Mrs. Richmond Montague and the lovely widow to be one and the same person, for they were entirely different in figure as well as face, the former being very slight, while the latter was inclined to be decidedly portly, as was also Mrs. Vanderbeck.
"But, gentlemen, that is also easily explained, as you will see if you examine these costumes, for there must be five pounds, more or less, of cotton wadding used about each to pad it out to the required dimensions. Clever, very clever!" interposed Mr. Rider, bestowing a glance of admiration upon the bowed and shivering figure before him. "I think, during all my experience, I have never had so complicated and interesting a case. I do not wonder that you look dazed, gentlemen," he went on, with a satisfied glance at his wide-eyed and wondering listeners, "and I imagine I could have surprised you still more if I had had time to examine a certain trunk which stands open up stairs in the lady's chamber. I think I could find among its contents a gray wig and other garments belonging to a certain Mrs. Walton, so called, and perhaps a miner's suit that would fit Mr. Louis Hamblin, alias Jake Walton, who in St. Louis recently tried to dispose of costly diamonds which he had brought all the way from Australia, for his rustic sweetheart—eh? Ha, ha, ha!" and the jubilant man burst into a laugh of infinite amusement.
"Truly, Mr. Rider, your discoveries are somewhat remarkable; but will you allow me to examine that cross?" a new voice here remarked, and Mr. Amos Palmer arose from a mammoth chair at the other end of the drawing-room, where he had been an unseen witness of and listener to all that had occurred during the last half hour.
It was he who had rung the bell just as Mona was about to enter Mrs. Montague's boudoir in search of her scissors, and who, upon being told that the lady was out, had said he would wait for her. He had called to ask his fiancée to go with him to select the hangings for the private parlor which he was fitting up for her in his own house.
His face, at this moment, was as colorless as marble; his eyes gleamed with a relentless purpose, and his manner was frigid from the strong curb that he had put upon himself.
At the sound of his voice Mrs. Montague lifted a face upon which utter despair, mingled with abject terror, was written. She bent one brief, searching glance upon the man, and then shrank back again into the depths of her chair, shivering as with a chill.