Cleg Kelly, Arab of the City: His Progress and Adventures

by S. R. Crockett

When the first wild astonishment of the searchers had abated a little, the lawyers ordered the men from Messrs. Cox & Roskell's to open the various receptacles in the strong-room. Strangely enough, nothing whatever was found in them, excepting some articles of jewelry and a packet of letters in a woman's hand, which the lawyers took possession of. The three confidential artificers from London remained in charge till measures should be taken to clear out the strong-room.

The doctor examined Cleg with care and tact, for it was to him that the lawyers looked for the explanation of the mystery. But first they provided the mechanicians with very substantial reasons for secrecy, if they would give their services to prevent a scandal in these very remarkable family circumstances. The men, accustomed to secrecy, and recognising the future and personal application of the lawyers' logic, readily promised.

So far as the doctor could make out, this was what had happened. Cleg told the truth fully, but he made no discovery of the relationship in which he stood to the man who had so murderously attacked him. Nor yet did he say anything of his knowledge of Sal Kavannah's identity. After a little study and piecing of evidence, however, the process of events seemed fairly clear.

When Cleg first sent his warning cry through the house, the General had doubtless been engaged in arranging for his expected departure out of the life which had brought so little happiness to him. For, like an Oriental, he knew, or supposed that he knew, the exact moment of his death—though, as we now know, his first impression had proved erroneous.

For some unknown purpose he had left the strong-room and hastened through the passages till he had heard the hideous uproar in the kitchen, whereupon he had promptly retreated to the strong-room, in all probability to get his revolver. While there a mad idea had crossed his mind to receive his visitors in his coffin. At any rate, upon entering he left the red door open behind him. A few moments later Tim Kelly came rushing in hot upon the trail, followed by the woman Kavannah. His hands were wet and red with his son's blood. His heart was ripe for murder. And this was the sight which met him—a room with open coffins in a row and three dead folk laid upon them, six great candles burning upon either side—all the horrors of a tomb in the place where he had counted to lay his hand upon uncounted treasure.

Then, while Timothy Kelly and Sal Kavannah stood a moment looking with fearful eyes on the tall ceremonial candles, which must have been specially ghastly to them on account of their race, the strong door swung noiselessly to upon its hinges; for the water balance had filled up, and they found themselves trapped.

What happened after this was not so clear. Probably the robber was proceeding in his desperation to rifle the open depositories of the letters and gear, which the searchers found strewed up and down the floor, when Theophilus Ruff sat up suddenly in the centre coffin, with his revolver in his hand, just as Cleg had seen him the first time he entered the chamber of death. Whether the ruffian had first attacked the madman, or whether he had simply been shot down where he stood, will never be known. But certain it is that he died instantly, and that the horror of the sight killed Sal Kavannah where she sat crouched low in the corner, as if trying to get as far as possible from the grisly horrors of the three coffins.

Then, having done his work, Theophilus Ruff calmly swallowed all that remained of his drugs, and slept himself into the land where vengeance is not, with the mouthpiece of his pipe in his mouth and his revolver upon his knees.

The heads of the embalmed bodies were turned so that they looked towards Theophilus Ruff as he sat in his coffin. For twenty years it is probable that he had gone to sleep every night with those dead faces looking at him.

The coffins were buried as privately as possible, the two embalmed bodies being laid within the private mausoleum at the foot of the garden; for in noble families a private burying-place is a great convenience in such emergencies. Here also Tim Kelly and Sal Kavannah took their places with nobler sinners, and no doubt they lie there still, mixing their vulgar earth with finer clay, and so will remain until the final resurrection of good and evil.