To establish the exact relations between Mrs. Catherick and Sir Percival, I visited Welmingham, pursued by the baronet's agents. My interview with Mrs. Catherick satisfied me that Sir Percival was not the father of Anne, and that their secret meeting in the vestry had reference to some object other than romance. The contemptuous way in which Mrs. Catherick spoke of Sir Percival's mother set me thinking. I visited the vestry where the meetings had taken place, and examining the register, discovered at the bottom of one of the pages, compressed into a very small space, the entry of Sir Felix Glyde's marriage with the mother of Sir Percival. Hearing from the sexton that an old lawyer in the neighbouring town had a copy of this register, I visited him, and found that his copy did not contain the entry of this marriage.
Here was the secret at last! Sir Percival was the illegitimate son of his father, and had forged this entry of his father's marriage in order to secure the title and estates. Mrs. Catherick was the only person who knew of the plot. In a fit of ill-temper she had told her daughter Anne that she possessed a secret that could ruin the baronet. Anne herself never knew the secret, but foolishly repeated her mother's words to Sir Percival, and the price of her temerity was incarceration in a private asylum.
I returned post-haste to Welmingham to secure a copy of the forged entry. It was night. As I approached the church, a man stopped me, mistaking me for Sir Percival Glyde. A light in the vestry showed to me that Sir Percival had anticipated my discovery and had secretly visited the church for the purpose of destroying the evidences of his crime. But a terrible fate awaited him. Even as I approached the church, a huge tongue of flame shot up into the night sky. As I rushed forward I could hear the baronet vainly seeking to escape from the vestry. The lock was hampered, and he could not get out. I tried to force an entry, but by the time the flames were under control the end had come. We found the charred remains of the man who had walked through life as Sir Percival Clyde lying by the door.
The mystery was now unravelled, and I was free to marry my darling. The only other point that seemed to need clearing up was the parentage of the unfortunate Anne Catherick. That was elucidated by Mrs. Catherick herself. The father of Anne was Philip Fairlie, the father of Laura--a fact that accounted for the extraordinary likeness between the two girls. But though our tribulations seemed to be at an end, we had yet to establish the identity of Laura, and to deal with Count Fosco.
To Miss Halcombe the count had written a letter expressive of his admiration, and begging her, for her own sake, to let matters be. I knew the count was a dangerous enemy, who would not hesitate to employ murder if necessary to gain his ends, but I was determined to re-establish the identity of Laura. Miss Halcombe's journal afforded me a clue. I found there a statement that on the occasion of his first visit to Black-water Park the count had been very concerned to know whether there were any Italians in the neighbourhood. Without hoping that anything would result from the manoeuvre, I followed the count one night, in the company of my friend, Professor Pesca, to the theatre. The professor did not recognise Fosco, but when the count, staring round the theatre, focussed his glasses on Pesca, I saw a look of unmistakable terror come over his countenance. He at once rose from his seat and left the place. We followed.
The professor was very grave, and it was quite a different man to the light-hearted little Italian that I knew who related to me a strange chapter in his life. As a young man, Pesca had belonged to, a secret society for the removal of tyrants. He was still a member of the society, and could be called upon to act at any time. The count had also been a member of the society, and had betrayed its secret. Hence his terror of seeing Pesca.
I immediately made use of the weapon that had been placed in my hand. I went boldly to Fosco's house, and offered to effect his escape from England in return for a full confession of his share in the abduction of Lady Glyde. He threatened to kill me, but realising that I had him at my mercy, consented to my terms.
This confession completely established the identity of Laura and she was publicly acknowledged by Mr. Frederick Fairlie. Laura and I had been married some time before and we were now able to set off on our honeymoon. We visited Paris. While there, I chanced to be attracted by a large crowd that surged round the doors of the Morgue. Forcing my way through, I saw, lying within, the body of Count Fosco. There was a wound exactly over his heart, and on his arm were two deep cuts in the shape of the letter "T"--the symbol of his treason to the secret brotherhood.
When we returned to England, we lived comfortably on the income I was able to earn by my profession. A son was born to us, and when Frederick Fairlie died, it was Marion Halcombe, who had been the good angel of our lives, who announced the important change that had taken place in our prospects.
"Let me make two eminent personages known to one another," she exclaimed, with all her easy gaiety of old times, holding out my son to me: "Mr. Walter Hartright--the heir of Limmeridge House."