The Jarlchester Mystery thus having been solved, Fanks replaced his note-book in his pocket, and the company prepared to break up. The first to go was Monsieur Judas, who stood at the door, hat in hand, smiling blandly on the four Englishmen.
"Messieurs," said Judas, in his most suave voice, "I make you my best compliments on your brains. You have been all in the dark. I, Jules Guinaud, showed you the light, and with brutal behaviour you have spoken to me. The dear angel is dead, my friend Melstane is dead, so now I leave this foggy climate of yours for my dear France. You have not the politeness, you English! You are all coarse of the style of your bifsteak. Bah! I mock myself of you! But I say no more. Adieu, messieurs, adieu! The politeness of the accomplished French survives the brutality of the bulldog English! Adieu! and for a good-bye English: Damn you all, messieurs!"
And the accomplished Judas, beaten on every point, but polite to the end, vanished from the room, and later on from Ironfields itself.
[Chapter 19]
Mr. Fanks Finishes the Case
. . . I had quite intended to duly label this note-book, and put it away among my papers, but somehow I forgot to do so, and only came across it the other day by accident. I have been reading the Jarlchester Mystery over again, and it struck me as one of the most extraordinary cases I have ever had the pleasure of investigating. It is now about a year ago since I left Ironfields after having brought Judas to book, and I am rather pleased at discovering this pocket-book now, as it gives me an opportunity of completing the case by telling his fate . . .
". . . In the Figaro of last Monday I read an account of a certain Jules Guinaud, who is none other than my old friend, Monsieur Judas. It appears that after having left Ironfields, the accomplished Judas returned to Paris as offering a wider field for his peculiar talents, and there he married a very wealthy young lady. After the marriage, however, Monsieur Judas found out that his mother-in-law had the money, and it would not descend to the daughter until her death. On discovering this disagreeable state of things, Monsieur Judas proceeded to put his mother-in-law out of the way, and managed to do so by means of his old poison, morphia. Madame Judas inherited the money, monsieur had the handling of it, and all was going well, only monsieur found madame flirting with a good-looking cousin. Filled with virtuous indignation at the violation of the domestic hearth, Monsieur Judas proceeded to poison the cousin, but before he could manage it, madame, remembering the suspicious death of her mother, interfered, and the end of the affair was the recovery of the cousin, the exhumation of the mother-in-law's body, and the arrest of Monsieur Judas . . .
". . . He made a very ingenious defence, but the case was clearly proved against him, and he was sentenced to the guillotine. Monsieur Judas, however, it appears, had some influence in an underhand way, and got his sentence commuted to penal servitude; so now he is on his way to New Caledonia, where he will stay for the rest of his life in congenial company. It is reported that Madame Judas intends to get a divorce, in which case I presume she will marry the good-looking cousin. . . .
". . . Monsieur Judas thus being disposed of, I had better make a note of the present condition of the other actors in the mystery. . . .
". . . After Florry Marson's death her father fell into his dotage. Shortly afterwards his firm became bankrupt; the second blow was too much for him, and he died six months ago. . . .