“He would not have done so had not Bakche told his story, and it was Bakche she hated most. It was truly wonderful how cunningly she managed to get close to the man to stab him. None of us thought when she walked up to him so quietly that she intended murder. And she drove it right into his heart, weak as she was. I expect,” added Alan musingly, “that is what Bakche meant when he said that a weak arm could drive a stiletto into a sleeping man as easily as a strong one could. I thought at the time he meant Jotty, but he referred to Miss Grison, little thinking that the very next day she would prove the truth of his words on himself.”
“But she was mad, Alan, quite mad.”
“So it was proved at the trial,” said Fuller with a shrug, “but I have my suspicion, Marie, that Miss Grison was acting a part. I don’t think that her brain was quite properly balanced, but her cunning in planning and plotting to implicate your uncle in the crime very nearly succeeded. She certainly was not mad when she acted in that way.”
“Mad people are always cunning and clever; Alan,” insisted Miss Inderwick.
“Well, let us give Miss Grison the benefit of the doubt. She can do no more harm now that she is shut up in that asylum as a criminal lunatic, and your uncle must be relieved to think she is safely out of the way.”
“All the same he has gone to live in Switzerland in a little mountain hotel, my dear,” said Marie nodding wisely. “He told me that he never would be satisfied until he had placed the ocean between him and his unhappy wife, and chose Switzerland as the best place to stay in.”
“Which means that he has only placed the Channel between him and his bugbear,” said Fuller dryly. “Well, Marie, I can’t say that I am sorry Mr. Sorley came to that determination, as it leaves us The Monastery to ourselves, and such is his dread lest his wife should escape that he will never come to England again, even for a visit.”
“I don’t think you are quite fair to Uncle Ran, dear.”
“Marie, you have said that again and again, and there is no truth in it, I assure you. I have every desire to be fair to the miserable man, and so has Dick, let alone my father and mother. But now that his deeds have come to light they all mistrust him. He certainly did not murder Baldwin Grison, but he assuredly ruined his life by driving him away, even though the poor wretch gave certain provocation for his dismissal. And you can’t say that he behaved well to his wife. He married her for her good looks, and then grew weary of her, as such a selfish man would. When he had her under his thumb through the love she bore her brother, which impelled her to save him from arrest for forgery by sacrificing herself, your Uncle Ran, whom you think so highly of——”
“No I don’t. But I’m sorry for him, dear.”