CHAPTER XXIV
There was a strange light in Beecher Monmouth's eyes as he stepped into the outer apartment. He was a man who irrevocably and finally had made up his mind.
"Mr. Treves," he said, "I hand these into your care. You have discharged your duty very well indeed. I think the letters will be of great service to your department." He uttered the words tonelessly and his manner puzzled John, who took the box, and then observed that Monmouth's hand was outstretched.
"You carried out your duty honourably and well."
Their hands touched and John noticed how icy cold were the other's fingers.
"I hope, sir," he said, in a sudden rush of pity for the utterly broken and deluded husband, "I hope you will forgive my seeming harshness of a few minutes ago."
"Certainly, certainly," said Beecher Monmouth dully. He appeared grateful that John had shaken him by the hand. "You can tell your chief that I feel no animosity and that I shall keep my promise not to leave this house. Whenever you return you will find me here."
"On behalf of the department I think I can say," remarked John, "that you will suffer as little inconvenience as possible."
"Thank you," said Beecher Monmouth. "This discovery is for me, as you can well understand, a tragic one." He paused a moment. "In any case," he added, "you will find me in my wife's room when you return."
John took the japanned box and bowed slightly. He was quite sure that Beecher Monmouth would make no attempt to escape. He was also quite sure in his own mind that no charge would be brought against him. The case was clearly one of a duped and shamelessly deluded husband who had unwittingly aided his country's enemies. For a moment the elder man appeared to hesitate on the point of making some further communication, then, turning slowly on his heel, re-entered his wife's room and shut the door.