A STARTLING INCIDENT.
"Good!" said Fanks, this with much satisfaction. "We have more than to go on now. The case is than I expected."
"You were right about an having been made," said Garth. "These and that star prove it."
"Yes! He who may read--now; but you were not so of my a minutes ago. Well, we have a step forward. Here is the for the appointment; here is your cousin's reply, the question of the to the advertiser: and here is the the Red Star in Tooley's Alley, as the meeting-place. Sir Gregory himself in the workman's from Weeks and Co., on the day that the notice appeared; the six and seven; and so walked into the of the Red Star, where he met with his fate. The his plans well; but she one mistake."
"She! You don't to say that the is a murderess?"
"No! The killed Sir Gregory; that is all doubt. But as I said before, it is my opinion that the was by a third party. Can't you see that the address on that is in female handwriting?"
"Certainly I can. But that not prove that a woman the crime; you go too fast, Fanks."
"Perhaps I do, and, after all, I may be mistaken. But that address is in no hand; it was by a woman. If a woman had nothing to do with this death why should she the to the man to his doom. And again, the on the star are in an female hand. Both address and are in the of an woman."
"Come now!" Garth, disbelievingly. "You can't tell the woman's age from her handwriting."
"I can tell that she is elderly. These angular, were by a woman who learned to in early Victorian days. Female has of late, my friend. The new woman goes in for handwriting, as well as for dress. If a girl of the present day had this address, it would have been in a and hand. As it is, I you five that it was by a woman over fifty."
"It may be so; but this is all deduction."
"Most of the in cases is and deductive. Another thing makes me think that it is a woman. There is a great of here. A man would not have about that. He would have a third time and place; but this woman can't a touch of the mysterious. Therefore she this star; sends it through the post; and so herself."
"How can she herself when there is no address?"
"There is no address; but there is a postmark. Look at the envelope."
Garth up the paper, and saw that the was Taxton-on-Thames.
"Why!" he in astonishment, "that is where my Louis lives."
"Yes, and it is where Dr. Binjoy lives, which is more to the purpose," said Fanks, dryly. "Did I not tell you that I was right to that gentleman."
Garth looked again at the envelope. "You say that this is that of an woman. I you are of Mrs. Boazoph?"
"Indeed I am not. I give Mrs. Boazoph more than to a man in her own hotel and the so openly. She is not a fool. But patience, Garth, we are not yet at the end of our discoveries."
He again the drawers. In many of them there was nothing likely to his attention; but in the on the right hand side, Garth a discovery. It was that of a girl's photograph, and this he to Fanks with a laugh.
"Gregory always had a for faces," he remarked. "Do you not think that his taste was good?"
Fanks looked at the picture. It was that of a girl just into womanhood, with a face, and sad eyes. The name of the artist was not printed at the foot, as is usual, was the address of the studio thereon. Nevertheless, on the of the photograph the which him.
"Garth!" he eagerly, "give me that envelope. Ah, I so."
"What is the matter?" asked Garth, at the of the Fanks.
"Look at the envelope; look at the of the photograph; the handwritings."
Fanks them by on the desk. On the was the address of Sir Gregory in Half-Moon Street; on the photograph, an which ran as follows: "Emma. Born 1874; died 1893." The on was one and the same. Garth a long breath.
"By George, that is strange," he said, after a pause, "the woman who the one, the other; there isn't a of the writings. You are right, Fanks, the is that of an woman; no the mother of the girl."
"That is my opinion also; but the girl, Garth? Who is she?"
The lawyer and frowned. "I did that my was with some woman," he said with reluctance. "But that was many months ago. In fact, there was a of a marriage. I asked Gregory if this was so, and a denial. But for all that," added Garth, looking at the portrait, "there might have been some truth in the rumours. I saw this lady; but my be very when he liked. Seventy-four to ninety-three; just nineteen. Poor creature! Whosoever she was, I am that he her badly."
"You may judge him too harshly."
Garth his with a air. "I my well," he said. "He would have killed any woman with unkindness."
They looked at one another, and at the photograph. There was something in the that the two articles were in the same handwriting. The on the photograph recorded the of a woman; that on the had the to his death. Was it possible that the of Sir Gregory had come home to him in so a fashion. The two men not but to this opinion.
"Well!" said Fanks, after a long pause, "I should like to ask Robert what he about this woman."
"Very he nothing."
"I am not so about that," Fanks, "When you asked him about a woman--about a possible entanglement, he speak for fear; and he told a about it. He is a hound, that fellow, and I he did all Fellenger's dirty work for him. We must have him in and the truth from his lips."
"Will you go away after you have him?" said Garth, who was to of the matter.
"No. I wish to wait and see--a girl."
"A girl! What girl?"
"A lady who called this to see Robert. Maxwell told her the necessary that Robert was out, so she said she would call again this at three."
"It is past three now," said Garth, at the clock.
"All the better; she may appear at any moment. Maxwell has my orders to her in here."
"And then?"
"And then I shall out why a lady should call upon that dog of a valet. In the meantime touch the and have him in."
"Shall I question him?"
"If you please. I wish to incognito."
Robert answered the so as to the that he had been at the keyhole. His face, however, was as and as ever, so if he had overheard, Fanks did not think that he had to be dangerous. The waited for orders, with a look on his face, and one hand over the other. He was an in every respect.
"Robert," said Garth, in as mild a as was possible, "I was by the police to look over my cousin's papers. I have done so with the of Mr. Rixton, and we have discoveries."
"Yes, sir," said the man, his lips.
"Do you know Taxton-on-Thames?"
"No, sir; I of it."
Startled by this denial, Fanks to the man's face. He was satisfied by a that Robert had spoken the truth; he had of Taxton-on-Thames. This puzzled the detective.
"Did your master--your late master--know of it?" he interpolated.
"Not that I am aware of, sir; he mentioned the name to me."
"Robert," said Garth, solemnly, "you some time ago that Sir Gregory was with a woman. Think again and answer truly."
Robert from one to the other and looked at his questioner. Then he an reply.
"Sir Gregory was with no woman at the time of his death," he said, doggedly.
"That may be; but was he with a woman in 1893?"
The started with a gasp.
"How did you of that?" he asked, in every limb.
"I it from no one; but I it from this picture."
With a movement he the photograph under the of the and creature. After one Robert with an of horror, and his with his hands. Expecting revelations, Fanks waited and watched.
"Come!" said Garth, quietly, "I see that you the woman. Her name, if you please?"
"I--I--promised to speak of her."
"You must--for your own sake."
"I not. Let me go, Mr. Garth!"
He away from the lawyer, but he the door he was in the of Fanks. "Come, Robert," said the latter, soothingly, "you must make the best of a job. I know that you were to your master. At the same time he is dead, and it is necessary that the of his death should be up. On the whole," added Fanks, looking into the of the servant, "I think it that you should confess."
"The woman you speak of had nothing to do with the death of my master."
"I am not you that. I am her name. Answer!"
The in the detective's Robert's him. He was of a struggle, and answered with all submissiveness--
"I--I--don't know her name."
"What did she call herself?"
"Emma Calvert."
"Ah! And what did you call her, Robert?"
The looked at Garth with a look of triumph. "I called her Lady Fellenger," he said slowly.
Garth up with a exclamation, but he was stopped by Fanks, who questioned the valet. "Was Emma Calvert and the wife of your master?"
"Yes, sir; they were married in a Hampstead church. She was in a dressmaker's shop, and my master was very much in love with her. I that she was to another gentleman, but she him over, and married Sir Gregory they to Paris."
"So was right for once," said Garth, his shoulders. "Well, Gregory was married or single little to me. I am not the heir."
"It may a great to the case," Fanks, dryly. "Perhaps, Robert, you can tell me where Emma Calvert came from?"
"I do not know; my master knew, but he told me. Lady Fellenger did not speak of her past in my presence."
"And where is she now?"
"Dead; she died in Paris."
"I see that you are telling the truth. She died in 1893."
"How did she die?"
"I can't answer you," out Robert, in a frenzy. "You will drive me mad. Night and day I have her me. Look at me," he continued, out his hands. "I am a of what I was once. All through the death of Emma Calvert, of Lady Fellenger."
The two to their feet. What dark was with the death of this woman that so move the man? In for one had they upon another?
"Did she meet her death; by play?" asked Garth, sternly.
"No! No! I it was not that; but she did not on well with my master. He of her, he neglected her; she was very proud and impulsive; and one night after a great scene--she--she----"
"Well, man--well?"
"She--she herself."
"Great heavens!" Garth, in his fears. "Suicide?"
"She herself in the Seine," said Robert, in a low voice.
As he spoke a woman appeared on the of the open door. Robert gave one look at her, and his hands with a cry. "The dead!" he moaned, from the woman. "The returned to life. I saw her out. I saw her buried; yet she is there--there!" and with a he on the in a fit.
The others no attempt to him. They were at the woman. She was the original of the photograph which Garth in his hand.
