"This petty prince was an up-to-date Hindoo, with an English army leader and a European physician. Bellairs--he was the leader--proved to be a fool, with no brains and some scruples. Dr. Carson, on the contrary, possessed some brains, but was quite unfettered by scruples. I saw that I should have to adapt myself to the idiosyncrasies of each. I did so, and a sort of triune partnership for the making of our several and joint fortunes was the result. Singha was sufficiently acute, but I beat him on his own ground. He loved me like a brother--indeed, I did all I could to civilize him. I taught him cards, introduced him to billiards, and instructed him in the orderly and methodical compilation of a betting-book. I don't say that, one way and another, I did not profit by him; for I did. But the profits were inconsiderable, and in no way sufficient to satisfy me. Besides, I was conscious of certain ambitions then. I felt that this great state treasure, not to speak of the command of some two million heathen, would be much more rationally dealt with were they in my hands. In a word, I coveted the viziership of Kikat But the priests were one and all against me. Moreover, there was an English missionary there, named Manners Brock, who seemed to be mistrustful of me. I could make nothing of him. In his moral and religious convictions he was absolutely rigid--a most unsympathetic soul, I thought him. It soon became plain to me that nothing short of re-adjustment of the existing political system would clear these obstacles from my path. My chance came with the Mutiny. By carefully playing upon Singha's ambition and feudal pride, I managed to get him mixed up in it. At my instigation he made certain treaties with the Delhi princes, and wrote certain letters professing hostility to the H.E.I.C. Then he watched for a favourable opportunity of declaring himself. This opportunity never came, for the Rao, over-persuaded by Brock, delayed action until it was too late. The Mutiny smouldered out when Delhi was captured, and I--unlucky once more--reverted to the post of idle companion and powerless buffoon, with the priests and Brock ever on the alert to ruin my credit with Singha. It became a choice between my downfall and the Rao's; so, of course, I chose the Rao's.
"To strengthen my scheme I appended Carson's and Bellairs' names to some of the letters, and thereby so implicated them in the Rao's conspiracy that, for their own safety, they were compelled to join me. Carson was willing enough to throw in his lot with me, but Bellairs made some absurd objections, until I was obliged to show him how completely his life and honour were at my discretion. When matters were thus arranged I saw Singha. I told him plainly that I should have no option but to send the letters to the Governor-General, unless he gave me the three diamonds which were known as the treasures of Kikat. He blustered a good deal, but in the end I gained my point. Singha gave me the diamonds. The largest I kept to myself, the other two I handed to Bellairs and Carson. All went smoothly until the Rao made trouble by confessing his position to Brock. The missionary, with the usual meddlesomeness of his class, made tracks for Calcutta, declaring his intention to inform the Government of my plot and protect Singha. He was afraid of me, I fancy, for he slipped off without my knowledge. I saw that his denunciation meant unpleasantness, so I followed close on his heels, met him, and argued the question with him. I did my best to persuade him to my way of thinking, to show him how utterly foolish and misguided he was, but all to no purpose. He was hopelessly unreasonable, so I killed him. There was nothing else for it.
"I returned to Kikat, but with the utmost caution. This was necessary because the Rao, being now in possession of the papers which I had directed were to be sent to him, might be plotting vengeance. I then discovered he was dead. On noticing the names of Bellairs and Carson appended to the papers, he had become unruly, so Carson had poisoned him, and with Bellairs had fled. I managed to come across the fugitives, and together we waited events.
"As it happened, the new king was afraid lest his father's conspiracy should cost him his throne, so he hushed up the matter, and gave out that Singha had died of apoplexy. As the danger from this quarter was over, we three could now enjoy the fruits of our success. I told Bellairs and Carson that I had killed Brock, so there was nothing to be feared from the Government through him. Bellairs returned to England, taking with him both his own diamond and Carson's. The latter had found a rag of a conscience somewhere, since he had murdered the Rao, and talked of the diamond as the 'price of blood.' He refused to take it, and let Bellairs carry it off, although I should have liked it for myself. However, I was quite satisfied with my share, for I sold the diamond for thirty thousand pounds. With this money I went back to Europe, where I married, became the father of a daughter, and altogether had a glorious time. Carson, in a fit of repentance, retired to some Himalayan hermitage, haunted, I suppose, by what is called a guilty conscience. Fool! My shooting of Brock troubled me not in the least.
"But what did trouble me was another run of bad luck. I lost everything. I returned to London, and placed my wife and child in the care of Jerry, who was a bachelor, and could better afford to keep them than I. Then I determined to look up Bellairs, who was now Squire of Casterwell, and horribly prosperous. On making inquiries, I learned that the vicar of the parish was dead, and that the living was in Bellairs' gift. I was terribly weary of wandering, and it occurred to me that such a position would suit me very well; at all events, for a while. It was quite a simple matter for me to impersonate Manners Brock. I had all his papers, and I was well up in the details of his early life, as well as his life in India. The creature had been a confirmed babbler, and had told me everything about himself. I had some trouble with Bellairs at first, but he soon saw it was no good. He was desperately jealous of what he called his good name. He had everything to lose; I nothing. So he did the wisest thing he could do, and gave in. I became the Reverend Manners Brock. I had no difficulty in deceiving the old Bishop of the diocese. I had all the papers, and was well up in all the necessary details. The living of itself was a poor one, but of course Bellairs had to alter that. He told me, when I approached this part of the subject, that he had sold the two diamonds for some thirty-eight thousand pounds. Then he, too, indulged in some silly nonsense about the 'price of blood' and so on, which he said had prevented his touching the money. For the last ten years it had been lying in the bank at compound interest, and had now reached something like fifty thousand pounds. I soon settled that. I made him invest the money securely, yet profitably, and pay me the interest. I felt now that I could settle down in comfort to my hardly-earned repose. I had an assured position, a good name, and a most comfortable income. There were times, of course, when I grew weary of so much respectability; but then, all I had to do was to assume some disguise and run up to London for a few days and enjoy myself. But I never went near Jerry. My wife was dead, and he looked after my daughter. So, as the Reverend Manners Brock, my life, if quiet, was pleasant enough. For years all went well, until one day there came a letter from Carson regretting that he had surrendered his diamond, and suggesting that his son--he had married in the mean time--should marry Olive Bellairs, and that the proceeds of the diamond should be given to the young people on their wedding-day. At first Bellairs refused; but Carson replied threatening exposure--more than that, he plainly gave Bellairs to understand that he would accuse him of Rao Singha's murder. For the sake of his jealously-guarded name, Bellairs was forced to yield. But he wrote to Carson telling him how, in the person of the Rev. Manners Brock, I had become vicar of Casterwell, and how he had been obliged to pay me the interest on the money. I did not wish to be selfish, but naturally I refused to give up my income, so in the end I compromised the matter. It was arranged that I should have the interest until the marriage took place, when I was to surrender it. As this could not be for twenty years I agreed to the arrangement, provided that if it did not take place the money should revert to me. Bellairs made a will to this effect. Carson insisted that the fifty thousand should be settled on his son, with a discretionary clause that he should pay one thousand a year to his wife. I did not know at the time--though I learned it later--that Bellairs had left a letter for his daughter imploring her to marry Angus, as he feared, did she not, that Dr. Carson would make known the truth, and thus tarnish his memory. So-the matter was arranged.
"The years slipped by, and Bellairs died. Then Carson wrote to me that he had told his son the story, keeping back, however, his own guilt of Singha's murder. He had also put the story on paper, though in doing so he had carefully refrained from connecting me, as Brock, with Michael Trall. This account, he intimated, he was sending by his son to me, so that I might, if necessary, use it to force Olive into the marriage. I refused so to further his desires. Angus, his son, was to denounce me, and to accuse me of the murder of Brock. Needless to say, I was greatly alarmed at the existence of this document, and by the knowledge that young Carson had it in his power to ruin me. Even when Dr. Carson died I was not reassured, as I still knew that Angus was in possession of the document and the story. The first could not ruin me, since my identity with the Brock of Casterwell was not shown; but if Angus proved difficult to deal with, it might be very awkward for me. To make myself more comfortable I resolved to see Angus before he arrived at Casterwell. I should then know, at all events, how he was disposed towards me. Mrs. Purcell's letter, which had been shown to me by Miss Slarge, plainly hinted that Angus was a religious prig, and I foresaw that he might not prove so easy to manage as his father had been. From the letter I also learned the name of the steamer in which Angus was coming to England. Shortly before the Pharaoh arrived I repaired to London in disguise, and inquired at the office when the liner was expected at the docks. On obtaining this information I went down to wait for her. I wore shabby clothes and a false black beard.
"Of course, I was not aware that Major Semberry was in any way connected with Drabble, although, from Mrs. Purcell's letter, I knew that he acted as bear-leader to Angus. When the steamer arrived I mixed with the crowd on deck, and managed to have Carson pointed out to me. I recognized him easily from his resemblance to his father. When he left the boat with Semberry I followed them, still disguised, to Athelstane Place. I determined to take the first opportunity of speaking to Angus. I waited for some time, but they did not come out. I realized that it might be some considerable time--perhaps days--before I found the opportunity I wished for. See him I would, and that alone. While hanging round the house I saw a man--it must have been Drabble disguised as Hain--but at the moment I failed to recognize him. I saw also the housekeeper. She was a stranger to me. These two were always about the place, although Semberry had left, and I was beginning to despair of ever seeing Angus alone. At last one evening they both left the house together, and I, having seen them well out of the way, walked up to the door and rang the bell. Angus answered it himself, and when I said I was Mr. Brock of Casterwell (for I had put my false beard in my pocket) he at once asked me to walk upstairs. In the drawing-room I had an interview with him, and a stormy one it proved. He was a stern, religious young man, and he declared that he intended to tell Olive the truth, to pay back the money to the Indian Government, and to denounce me as Brock's murderer. He also informed me that he had the document securely concealed, as his father, having repented of writing it, had tried to regain possession of it. To prevent his doing so, Angus had placed it in the secret drawer of his chest. I implored him not to ruin me--indeed, I offered to give up all claim to the money. I even went on my knees to him, but all in vain. He was adamant, and insisted that I should be exposed as an impostor and a murderer. Then, in my turn, I threatened him. I told him that if he denounced me I would reveal his father's sin. He did not know the truth, and asked me what I meant. When he heard that his father had murdered Singha he fainted, as he generally did when violently excited, by reason of his weak heart. This I knew from Mrs. Purcell's letter. I was quite determined that, as I had him at my mercy, he should not live to ruin me. I looked about for a weapon to kill him, and saw the wool-work left by Mrs. Arne with the knitting-needles in it. I opened his shirt as he lay insensible on the sofa, and pierced him to the heart with one of the needles. He died very quietly and, I think, without pain. Then I took his studs, wrist-buttons, watch, chain, and money, so that the murder might look like the work of a robber. In the next room I hunted for the portmanteau, and turned it out to see if I could find the document. It was not to be found, nor the sandal-wood chest, so I stole away from the house, leaving Carson dead, and, later on, returned to Casterwell.
"I read in the newspapers how futile had been the search for the assassin. But I could not quite comprehend what they said about the severed hand. I guessed that it had been cut off in order to remove the bangle, because I myself had been unable to remove it owing to the swollen condition of the hand. But I could not understand their motive for taking away the bangle. It was not until I met Boldini, as Carson, in the churchyard that this became quite clear to me. Then, of course, I guessed at once that it was necessary for his impersonation. I almost fainted at the sight of him. He was so like the young man whom I had been obliged to kill. I explained my emotion to Mallow by saying that the son had reminded me so forcibly of his father--my dear old friend. Moreover, I made no doubt that a conspiracy was in progress for obtaining the money. Of course, I could have denounced the imposture there and then, but that might have led to my own undoing; so I decided to let sleeping dogs lie. The money would be lost to me by the marriage, as, on reading her father's letter, which she showed to me, Miss Bellairs was bent on carrying out his wish. Still, now that Angus was dead, no one could identify me with Michael Trall. I was safe, if poor.
"The marriage ceremony I myself performed. So I lost the money by my own act. I was surprised to learn that my daughter Clara had engaged herself as maid to Olive; but, as Mr. Brock, I dared not interfere. I regret now that I did not, for through her I might have found out all about Boldini's scheme. When Mr. and Mrs. Carson (so-called) departed, I discovered that one of the dead man's wrist-buttons had been taken out of my desk. This alarmed me greatly, and I forthwith hid the rest of the jewellery in my bookcase. Afterwards, Margery Drabble confessed to me that she was the culprit; so when her father was killed I told Mallow that he had given it to me. There was no one else to contradict the statement. I was most anxious to find the document in the sandal-wood chest, and thought it might be with Major Semberry. Having gone up to see him I unfortunately met Mallow, but I explained my visit on the plea that I wished the Major to bring about a reconciliation between the young couple. I did not see Semberry, nor did I enter his lodgings. As I was coming away, a cab knocked me down and broke my leg. Then one day, a few weeks later, to my great surprise, Mr. Mallow himself brought me the document. It had been discovered by Lord Aldean in the secret hiding-place of the sandal-wood chest, where Carson had concealed it from his father. Olive, as Mallow informed me, wished to read it. She thought, perhaps, it might throw some light on the sealed letter left by her father. On consideration I promised to show it to her, if, after reading it, I judged it fit for her to read. I found I could do so with safety. Carson had made no mention of Brock's death, and had accused Bellairs of the murder of the Rao Singha, which he himself had committed. True, he spoke in no measured terms of Michael Trall--in fact, he abused him roundly; but since that adventurer was dead, and Brock was alive in his person, such blame of him and praise of me served only to strengthen my position. I resolved, therefore, that Olive should read of her father's guilt, hoping that thereupon she would refuse to touch the money--granting it was recovered from Boldini--in which case it might come to me.
"So the matter stands. All who may know of my identity with Trall are dead. The existing document strengthens my position, and in no way can the death of Carson be traced to me. I shall die in the odour of sanctity, after all; and, indeed, if what the doctor says is true, this cursed accident is going to bring about that event very shortly. Well, if I die, I die; my life has been a hard one, and if I have sinned, I repeat, Nature is to blame, not myself. I have directed by my will that the twenty-one volumes of my cipher diary are to be burnt, since it is only for my own gratification that I have written them. I have no wish to be maligned after my death. Even if the diary is not destroyed I feel safe, seeing that no one can read it save Jerry, and I dare say that he is dead by this time; he must be dead, or Clara would not have gone out to service. I wish, now, I had asked her about him.