“The train struck a bridge as the form of the conductor disappeared, and messenger and detective gazed blankly into each other’s faces.
“‘Dead?’ asked Dixon.
“‘Dead!’ responded Tobey. ‘If he missed the beams he fell into the river eighty feet below us.’
“‘Well, let him go!’ said the detective. ‘He is the assassin of the man from whose home he allured a sister.’
“The body of John Golden was never found. Among his papers at his boarding-house in the city was found a memorandum book belonging to George Green, and other articles that Natalie identified.
“Thus was the mystery that hung over the dead traveller cleared, and I have but to add that Natalie returned home, and after the lapse of two years, became the wife of no less a person than Jerome Dixon.”
“It is very much to be regretted,” said the Rev. Mr. Downbent, “that the detectives of this country are not able to unravel the many mysteries which of late have been presented to us in the metropolis. Indeed, to say the truth, they appear to be grossly at fault in this respect.”
“We shall never do any good, sir,” observed Sir William, “till a better class of men are employed, and, I may add, prompter and more stringent measures are taken to check crimes of this nature. I have come to that conclusion years ago, and recent events have strengthened me in the opinion I have formed.”
“It is a most melancholy state of affairs,” said Lady Marvlynn. “I don’t pretend to be a competent judge of such matters, but everyone must admit that it reflects no credit on a country which is perhaps the most opulent and civilised community in the whole world.”
“You are right, my dear lady Marvlynn,” returned Sir William. “The number of murders committed of late in this country that we know of is bad enough, seeing that the perpetrators of these crimes are never discovered, even to say nothing about their being convicted; and then how many are there perpetrated which are never brought to light in any shape whatever?”