The Fever of Life

by Fergus Hume

Part of his evidence was true, for he had been in the drawing-room, he had seen Mrs. Belswin enter the study, but here his truth ceased and his lies began. Fearing lest his name should be mentioned by the infuriated woman during the interview, which would be sure to end in the discomfiture of Mrs. Belswin the lawyer, trembling for his respectable position, went to his bedroom and took his air-pistol, so as to be prepared for emergencies. It is but fair to Mr. Dombrain to say that he had no intention of using the weapon unless everything was lost; so, creeping out of the house, he placed himself beside the open window of the study, in order to hear what Mrs. Belswin would say.

In accordance with his expectations, she did tell Sir Rupert all about him, and when Dombrain heard the declaration of the baronet that he would denounce him, he knew that all was lost, and that the sin of his early youth was going to cost him the respectable position of his middle age. When Mrs. Belswin, thrust forth by her unforgiving husband, fled out into the night, Dombrain, trembling, sick at heart at seeing all that made his life worth living vanish, crouched still beside the window, and here Sir Rupert, who had come out to make sure that his divorced wife had taken herself off, found him.

Then an interview between the lawyer and the baronet took place, in which the latter swore to reveal all the infamy of Dombrain, and have him struck off the rolls. In vain the wretched man pleaded for mercy. Coldly and inflexibly the baronet thrust him out of doors, the same way he had done his wife; and then mad with anger at the terrible future before him, Dombrain shot Sir Rupert, in the manner described by Belk in the witness-box. After committing the crime and assuring himself that his victim was dead, he coolly stepped across the body, and took refuge in his own room, from whence he did not emerge for the rest of the night. It was true, as he said, that his room was near the head of the staircase, for he saw Mrs. Belswin leave the study as he described, so it was then that the idea came into his head to secure himself by sacrificing her, and thus both save and revenge himself at one time.

On leaving the court after having been denounced by Belk, his rage against all the world for his thwarted revenge and his perilous position knew no bounds. He had no idea of escaping justice, but determined before he was seized to punish the woman who had--as he believed--dragged him down even lower than his former position. Then he had simply embezzled money, but now he had committed a crime for which he would lose his life; and thus, seeing that his doom was fixed, he determined that Mrs. Belswin should suffer for placing him in such a perilous position.

With this idea in his head, he took the air-pistol with which he had killed Sir Rupert, and went to the lodgings of the dead man's daughter and Mrs. Belswin. Skilfully managing to evade the notice of the servant, he ensconced himself behind the curtains in the drawing-room, and shot the unhappy woman as described. At first, knowing how bitter it would be to Mrs. Belswin, he had intended to kill Kaituna, but the unexpected action of the mother had saved the daughter from a terrible death. Satisfied with his work, Dombrain threw down the pistol and disappeared--disappeared into the depths of London, from whence he never emerged. What became of him nobody ever knew. Whether he took another name, and resumed his profession in provincial England; whether he left the country; whether he died in the gutter, no one ever discovered. Falling into the immense ocean of London like a drop of rain, he became obliterated, lost, unknown, but no doubt in due time he met his reward for his evil doings.

And his victim? Alas, poor soul, her troubles, her trials, her follies, were all at an end, and a simple cross marked the place where she was buried. To that humble grave, a year after the events described, came Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell, in reverence for the memory of the woman--the mother who had given her life for that of her child. Maxwell had married Kaituna in due course after a decent time had elapsed from the death of Mrs. Belswin, and later on he had gone to South America, on business connected with his profession; for, in spite of Kaituna's wealth, Archie could not bring himself to live upon her income. He had gone away for a few months to Buenos Ayres, and had now returned to the side of Kaituna for ever. After much difficulty she had persuaded him to accept her view of the question, and share the proceeds of the Pole Star Mine. To this, after much hesitation, Maxwell consented, and now the husband and wife had arranged to make a tour of the world together. Before leaving England, however, they came to Kensal Green cemetery to pay a last visit to the grave of the woman who had sinned, but who also had suffered.

"Poor mother!" said Kaituna, as she leaned on the strong arm of her husband. "What a terribly bitter life she had, and her death was hardly less sad."

"She saved you, my darling," replied Maxwell, with a fond smile; "and that, in her eyes, was recompense enough for the sudden ending of her life."

"If that wretch who killed her had only been punished?"

"I've no doubt he is punished. It is true he escaped the hands of men, but I am certain he will not escape the punishment of God. But come, my dear Kaituna, these thoughts make you sad. Let us leave this dreary place."