THE CONFESSION OF HERSHAM.
When Fanks saw Mrs. Boazoph at his his was to wait until she recovered. Later on he his mind, and when he had her in the hands of the he home full of and dark surmises. It to him that the case was in Ted Hersham; that the whole on the right reading of the riddle. Mrs. Boazoph something about the cross, she something about Hersham; but what it was Fanks by no means make up his mind. It to him that in the of Mrs. Boazoph's mind he had a still deep; and he was puzzled what to think.
"Confound the woman," he thought, over a pipe; "I said that we should her at the end of the path which leads to the of the mystery, and it that I was right. She screened Binjoy for some which I cannot discover; she will now attempt to save Hersham, he should into my clutches. Why should she take all this trouble for those two men? And what she know about the cross? Does Binjoy know about it also? And was it he who the mark? I can't think Hersham guilty, and yet look black against him. But no," said Fanks, rising, "the man who in Tooley's Alley and Hersham are two different people; I proved that to Garth. What's to be done now?"
It was difficult to decide. At he almost to return to Mrs. Boazoph and her confession; again, he it best to wait until he what Hersham had to say. It might be, he thought, that Hersham's would some light on his relation to Mrs. Boazoph. The of Anne Colmer, the terror of Hersham, the of Mrs. Boazoph were all of a piece, and Fanks that these the key to the riddle. It was not that he had no clue; he was in by the of clues, so that he did not know which to first. At length he came to the that it would be best to wait till he saw Hersham and what he had to say, and to up the in his hands by the of Mrs. Boazoph.
"I'll to Hersham, and him that he promised to see me in a days and tell the truth." said Fanks, going to his desk; "and if he all I am that his will the that Mrs. Boazoph and him against me."
He was confident, as he said, that she would do this. If she to save Binjoy, she would try to help Hersham; but her for doing the one was as as her had been for acting in the way she did Binjoy. The he into the case the it grew; and in Fanks his to Hersham, and did nothing more for the next days but over the in which he himself involved. His to no result, and when Hersham called on him at the Duke Street in three days, the was at his wit's end how to proceed.
However, he was to see Hersham, as he had the man would his promise. Now that he had come to do so there might be some of a of light. Fanks did not tell the journalist what he had his movements on the night of the twenty-first, as he wanted to see if Hersham would as much. If he did so, such would his that the had nothing to do with the of the crime. If, on the other hand, Hersham the proven Fanks to him into by what he had from Berry Jawkins. By the result he would be in his movements. The was likely to prove as and as that which he had with Mrs. Boazoph.
"I am to see you, Hersham," he said, in a tone, "as I what you have to tell me may some light on the of this Tooley Alley crime."
"I can no light on the thing," said Hersham, gloomily. "I am only here to myself."
"From what? What do you mean?"
"Why should you ask me that?" said Hersham, angrily. "Is it not you who me of killing this man?"
"Decidedly not. I do not think you killed Fellenger. As I told you I do not you had anything to do with it."
"Then why did you have me watched?" the man.
"Ask that of yourself," said Fanks, coolly. "You my suspicions; you that you something; you me with to Anne Colmer. Cast your mind to our conversation, man; you will say that I had every for acting as I did. If you had told me the truth at first; had you my of my enemy, you would not have had all this trouble. But, for all that, I do not you of being a murderer. Had I done so," Fanks, "you would have been in a long e'er this."
"I my I was of you," said Hersham, sullenly.
"If you are innocent, there is no to be of me."
"I am innocent; and yet I am of you. Yes, I am to tell you what I am about to reveal."
"Why so?"
"Circumstances may so close an man," Hersham, not the interruption, "that it would as though he were guilty. Think yourself, Fanks. Innocent men have been e'er now, was against them."
"True enough," Fanks. "I it is natural that you should be afraid. No man would the of his into the if he help it. You say that are against you. What are these circumstances?"
Hersham his lip, and a on his friend. "I place my life in your hands, mind you," he said, hoarsely.
"It will be safe there," Fanks, up and a of from the sideboard. "Nothing will me to that you had anything to do with the of this crime."
"Will you to that?" Hersham, out a hand.
"Certainly if it will you. Here, my friend, drink this, and tell me what you know. It may help me to the person I have my on."
Hersham the brandy. "Have you out who killed Fellenger?"
Fanks his shoulders. "I think so," he said, "but who can tell; I may be wrong."
"Is it a man or woman?" asked Hersham, quickly.
"I shan't tell you."
"Is it--"
"I shan't tell you, my friend. But I shall tell you this for the of your fears, that it is not you I suspect. Now again, and let me what you have to say."
Hersham his seat obediently, and his recital. He what Fanks he would confess; what Fanks already knew, but the to this twice-told with the attention. Thereby he to learn some new detail which had been by the Berry Jawkins.
"About the of June," said Hersham, in a voice, "I was on a series of papers for the 'Morning Planet' on Street Music. To the I required, I it would be an excellent plan to go about the of London in guise, and to at the of the matter. I told my that I would burnt-cork my and go with some minstrels. He of the idea, and I did so."
"And how were you dressed?"
"In a great with buttons. I also boots. Now, you can see why I was to tell you. That is the dress the you are looking for wore."
"Yes!" said Flanks, perplexedly, "I know that; but I do not see why you should have been to tell me. You can your movements on that night."
"That is what I can't do," said Hersham, his dark.
"I don't understand."
"I shall explain. On the night of the twenty-first I to go out in the in disguise. Before doing so, I told the office boy that if a came for me he was to it at once to me; I a wire about six o'clock; and I told the boy that I would be in the Strand near St. Clements Church."
"From did you the telegram?"
"From Anne Colmer. That day I had a from her, saying that she was about something; what it was she did not tell me; but she said that if she wanted me she would wire, and that I was then to come at once to Taxton-on-Thames."
"Go on," said Fanks, in the of Anne's name.
"Well, I my face, and out with the to sing and play. About six, or a little after, I was near St. Clement's Church, and there the office boy came to me with a telegram."
"Why did you the at six?"
"Because I was in the office about five, and it had not come then. I it might come after I left, so I St. Clement's Church as the meeting-place where the boy might me."
"And you obeyed?"
"What was in the telegram?"
"A that I should come to Taxton-on-Thames at once."
"Yes, there was no why I should not. I that Anne was in trouble; I at once on my bicycle."
"Why did not you go by train? It would have been easier."
"Not for me. I was in the of to Taxton-on-Thames on my machine; it is only two hours' run."
"Had you your machine in town?"
"Yes; I had left it at a shop in the Strand where I it; though sometimes I it on to the office in Fleet Street. On this occasion it was in the Strand. As soon as I got the I left my and off on my bicycle.
"Didn't you wash your face?"
"Not at that time; I was in such a and so to learn what was the with Anne, that I did not think of doing so. I along until I was to the I must have presented, by the laughing, and the of the boys. Then I that I might Anne, and I to wash myself."
"And did you?"
"Not immediately. On the way to Richmond I had an accident, and the of my wheel was punctured. The air escaped, and I was over an hour it. Then I had to go slowly, and did not to Richmond till after eight o'clock. I into the hotel called the Eight Bells, and had a drink and a wash. Then I came out a white man to the of the barman, and on to Taxton-on-Thames. I got there after nine o'clock."
"Didn't you nearly over a man as you the village?"
"Yes, I did," said Hersham, in some astonishment. "But how do you know that?"
"I'll tell you later on," Fanks, smiling. "But about the result of your to Taxton-on-Thames?"
Hersham's fell. "There was no result," he said, in a low voice. "When I I at once to Briar Cottage and asked for Anne. I was told that she had gone up to town by the five o'clock train."
"Gone up to town!" Fanks. "That is curious. Why did she go up to town after sending you a wire to you down?"
"I can't say. She returned by the night train, and I was at the station to meet her. I asked her why she had gone to town, and she to tell me. She said that she had sent the wire five o'clock, and that she had occasion to go up by the five train."
"Can you what took her to town?"
"No; and she will not tell me."
Fanks said nothing. He was on the told to him by Hersham, and on the of Anne Colmer. The this lady, which had in the of Sir Gregory, to be thickening. Fanks was puzzled and gloomy.
