"As you have sinned so deeply," she said, in a low tone, "you had better make reparation while you may and confess all, so as to release Myles from prison. Meanwhile, I will go for a doctor."
He signed her feebly to remain.
"No doctor can do me any good," he said faintly, "but I will tell all. Mr. Dowker will, perhaps, write it down, and if I'm not too far gone I'll--sign it."
"I will write your confession," said Norwood, and, sitting down at the desk, he took up a pen and waited.
It was a strange scene. Ellersby lying on the floor with his eyes half closed, Balscombe leaning against the desk, with his clothes all torn and a white haggard face, and May Penfold standing beside Dowker, looking with pitying eyes on the dying man at her feet.
As he knew he had not long to live, Ellersby commenced at once:
"I am, as you know, the son of a West Indian, and came to England to be educated. I was brought up, in early childhood, by a negro nurse, and before I left Barbadoes she gave me an arrow-head, which, she told me, was steeped in deadly poison, and that one scratch would kill. Something to do with their Obi business, I suppose. She told me to use it on my enemies, but I was not so savage as she was, though I have got negro blood in my veins, and I did not bother much about it. I finished my education and went into society. One time, while down at Folkestone, I met Amelia Dicksfall, and loved her--you do not know how I loved her--with all the mad passion of a Creole. She led me on till I was her slave and then refused to marry me, for at least two years--for what reason I was then ignorant, but now I know it was because she wanted to marry a title, and kept me in hand so as to become my wife if she failed to realise her ambition. I went abroad and when I returned a short time ago, I found she had married Balscombe. I saw her and reproached her with her treachery, but she only laughed at me. Then I heard how she carried on with Calliston and swore I would kill her if she preferred him to me. She denied that she cared for him, and then I heard about her projected elopement and determined to make one more appeal to her. If that failed I took an oath I would kill her with the poisoned arrow-head. I thought I would see her on that night, so, dressing myself in evening dress, I put the arrow head in my pocket and went along to Park Lane. I was told she had gone to the Countess of Kerstoke's ball and, thinking this was a mere subterfuge on her part, I thought I would go to Calliston's chambers and see him. I went along to his rooms in Piccadilly, but as I did not know where they were it was some time before I found them. I was going in when I saw Balscombe waiting about, and wondered what he was doing there. While thus waiting a woman came out, and I recognised Lady Balscombe at once. I saw Sir Rupert go after her and witnessed their dispute under the lamp. I saw him wrench off the locket and then Lady Balscombe fled. I followed, and found her wandering vaguely about in the fog. She recognised me and we had a stormy interview. I insisted on her coming to my hotel and going away with me in the morning, pointing out that now her husband had seen her coming out of Calliston's chambers he would apply for a divorce. I then asked her about the letters and she told me where they were. I said I would get them, and then Sir Rupert would never know with whom she had gone away. She agreed to go with me, and went as far as Jermyn Street; then she refused to go further, saying she loved Calliston and hated me. She insisted on going down to Shoreham in the morning, and taunted me so that I got mad with anger and determined to kill her. So I apparently agreed to what she said and asked her to kiss me for the last time. She did so, and when I was embracing her I wounded her in the neck with the poisoned arrow-head. She thought it was only a pin pricking her, but when she was dying I told her what I had done and said that now she could never be any other man's mistress or wife. She died shortly afterwards, and then I thought about saving myself, so went along to the Countess of Kerstoke's ball, in order to prove an alibi should it be necessary. In coming back I went up the steps where I had left her to see if she was still there, thinking the body might have been discovered. It was still lying there, however, so I called the policeman. The rest you know. As to the arrow-head, I placed it in there in looking for the letters, in order to throw the blame on Balscombe, because I knew all his movements on that night were in favour of the presumption of his having committed the crime."
He paused at this point, for his eyes were becoming glazed and his voice was faint and weak. Norwood had written out the words that had fallen from his lips, and now brought the paper and a pen, in order for him to sign it. The dying man raised himself on his elbow with an effort and signed his name with difficulty in the place indicated by the lawyer. When this was done, Balscombe and Norwood affixed their signatures as witnesses; then the latter placed the confession in an envelope.
The action of the poison being very rapid, Ellersby was now in a half-comatose condition; his eyes being closed and his breathing stertorous. He began to speak again in a drowsy voice, which sounded as if he was far away:
"It's the irony of Fate . . . brought me here . . . to my death. I came to conquer and remain to die . . . . . . . . . The old Greeks were right . . . . . . . Man . . . sport of Fate . . . . . . Nemesis . . . . wins hands down . . . . . . . if there is . . . . . . world . . . . . . . . beyond . . . . I . . . I . . . . find . . . . ."