“Last winter, while we were in Rome, Lieutenant Shacklock, as he called himself, lived in style at the Grand, while Himes had a room at the Quirinale. To every one they appeared as strangers to each other, and only met at our house. They both had committed a number of clever robberies of jewels and money, when Shacklock managed to ingratiate himself with a wealthy American widow, a Mrs Clay Hamilton, and after giving several little dinner-parties and escorting her here and there he succeeded, by a clever piece of trickery, in passing over her jewel-case full of valuable gems to Himes. The theft was quickly discovered, but no suspicion ever rested upon him. Indeed he actually went himself to the Questura with Mrs Clay Hamilton and reported the theft to the police! The jewel-case was, however, already at our house when, on the following night, the two men met.
“I was out at the theatre with Dr Gavazzi and Alice, but I can only suppose there must have been a violent quarrel over the distribution of the booty. At any rate, Himes declared that he would have nothing further to do with either my father or Shacklock, and next day left Rome for Paris. My father and Shacklock suspected that, out of spite, he meant to expose them to Nardini or to the Rome police, therefore, knowing with what object he had gone to Paris, Shacklock followed him and gave certain secret information at the Prefecture. The result of this was that Himes was arrested red-handed while committing an audacious robbery at Asnières, and sent to prison. He, of course, suspected that the friends with whom he had quarrelled had given information, yet he could not absolutely prove it. His first impulse was to retaliate by revealing all he knew regarding his late associates, but this was not enough for a man of his criminal instincts.
“In his heart there rankled through those long months of his confinement a murderous revenge. He swore that he would kill the men who betrayed him—and he has kept his vow!”
“Yes,” I said. “And he evidently believed that, being on such intimate terms with your father and yourself, I, too, was the latest recruit.”
“Ah! Your escape, dear, was a most fortunate one!” declared Ella, gazing up into my eyes with that love-look that told me volumes.
“I wonder where Himes is now?” queried Sammy. “He certainly seems absolutely fearless in his revenge.”
“What matters?” I said. “Let us remain silent. If he is captured, well and good. If not, we at least know the truth.”
“He killed my father—recollect,” Lucie remarked, in a hard voice.
“And was it not through your father—whose memory we should bury from to-day—that my poor friend and your lover, Manuel Carrera, died?” asked Sammy gravely.
Then a silence fell between all four of us. I was looking into the clear blue eyes of my well-beloved. All of us were preoccupied by our own thoughts. From out the dark tragedy had at last shone the light of truth.