Chapter XLIV.
Is the Mystery Solved?
Leaving the wounded and the unwounded hunters to pursue their way through the forest, we shall return to the hut and over-hear Hiram Monk’s long-delayed confession.
As soon as the door was shut on the six hunters, he began. His face was turned towards Mr. Lawrence, but his eyes were fixed on his pillow, which was hidden by the coverlet; and his punctuation was so precise, his style so eloquent and sublime, and his story so methodical, complicated, and tragical, that once or twice a horrible suspicion that he was reading the entire confession out of a novel concealed in the bed, flashed across Mr. Lawrence’s mind.
If this dreadful thought should occur to the reader, he can mentally insert the confession in double quotation marks.
We are too humane to inflict the whole confession on the long-suffering reader; this abridged version of it will be quite sufficient, as it contains the main points.
“Seventeen years ago, I was an official in K. Hospital. My duties were to keep the record of the hospital; but still I passed considerable time with the maniacs, as my influence with those unhappy creatures was very great. I am a man of some education and ability, I may say, without ostentation; and till I met you, Mr. Lawrence, I was honesty itself.
“You were brought to our hospital a friendless man and a stranger; and it was rumored that you had been attacked by thieves, who, however, failed to get possession of your treasure. A great chest of gold and silver, labelled, ‘R. Lawrence,’ to be retained till your friends or relatives could be found, was brought and deposited in our magazine. It was a most romantic story, a man travelling through the country with a vast sum of money in a strong-box!