“On the night of your arrest, Mr. Poland, a mystery occurred,” I said presently, as we sat together exchanging many confidences, as I held my dear wife’s soft little hand in mine.
“Yes,” he replied. “It was only while I was out at Devil’s Island that I learnt the truth. Du Cane, intending to get me out of the way, hit upon a very ingenious plan of sending a man made up as Guertin—whom I only knew by sight—to see me and suggest suicide rather than arrest. This man—a person named Lefevre—came and made the suggestion. He did not know that Du Cane had written anonymously to the Préfecture, and never dreamed that Guertin himself would follow him so quickly. On leaving, he apparently hung about watching the result of his dastardly mission, when Harriman—or Bell as we knew him—walked up the drive, in order to call in secret upon me. He espied a man whom he recognized as Guertin peering in at the window, and, creeping up behind him, struck him down before he could utter a word. Afterwards he slipped away, believing that he had killed our arch-enemy, the chief of the sûreté. Presently, however, the body of the unfortunate Lefevre was found by Guertin himself, who had come to arrest me.”
“And Harriman admitted this!” I exclaimed.
“Yes. He admitted it to me upon his death-bed. He died of fever a week before I made my dash for liberty. But,” he added, “Sonia has told me of that dastardly attempt which those hell-fiends Reckitt and Forbes made upon you in Porchester Terrace, and how they also tortured her. But they were fortunately alarmed and fled precipitately, leaving Sonia unconscious.”
“Yes,” declared my sweet wife. “When I came to myself I recollected, in horror, what they had told me concerning the fate to which they had abandoned you in the adjoining room, and with a great effort managed to free myself and seek you. I cut the straps which bound you, and succeeded in killing the snake just in time to save you. Then I stole away and left, fearing that you might suspect me of having had some hand in the affair.”
“And you saved my life, darling!” I exclaimed, kissing her fondly on the lips.
Then, turning to Poland, I said—
“The police are hunting for you everywhere. Cannot you get to some place where you are not liable to be taken back to France?”
“To-morrow, if I am fortunate,” he said, with a faint smile, “I return to the modest little villa I have rented on the hill-side outside Athens. In Greece one is still immune from arrest for offences abroad.”
“And I shall return to London with you, Owen. Father and I have travelled to Trieste, and thence here, in order that I should rejoin you, now that the danger is past.”