stain removed from my poorfather's memory."
"But the mode of your father's death?" I said, amazed at thisremarkable revelation of craft and deception.
"Ah!" she sighed, "my opinion has altered. He died from natural causesjust at a moment when a secret attempt was to be made to assassinatehim. By that same train up to Manchester, Herbert Hales--who was, ofcourse, unknown to my father--and the man Dawson travelled in company,and I have no doubt that it was their intention if opportunity wasafforded, to strike a blow with the same fatal knife with which theattempt was later made upon you. Death, however, cheated them of theirvictim."
"But this villainous scoundrel who is your husband? What of him?"
"The judgment of Heaven has already fallen upon him," was her low,almost mechanical answer. "What!" I gasped eagerly. "Is he dead?"
"He quarrelled here with Dawson on the night you left London, and againthe one-eyed man exhibited that remarkable craft he possessed, for, inorder to rid himself of Hales and the ugly facts of which he was inpossession, he appears to have given confidential information to thepolice of a certain robbery committed about a year ago after KemptonPark races, in which the man from whom a large sum of money was stolenwas so severely injured that he died. Two detectives went to Hales'lodgings in Lower Seymour Street about two o'clock in the morning. Theydemanded admittance to his room, but he, realising that Dawson hadcarried out his threat and that the truth was out, barricaded himselfin. When they at last forced the door, they found him stretched deadupon the floor with a revolver lying beside him."
"Then you are free, Mabel--free to marry me!" I cried, almost besidemyself with joy.
She hung her head, and answered in a tone so low that I could hardlycatch the words--
"No, I am unworthy, Gilbert. I deceived you."
"The past is past, and all forgotten," I exclaimed, snatching up herhand, and bending until my hot, passionate lips touched hers. "You aremine, Mabel--mine alone!" I cried. "That is, of course, if you dare totrust your future in my hands."
"Dare!" she echoed, smiling through the tears which filled her eyes."Have I not trusted you these past five years? Have you not indeed beenalways my best friend, from that night when we first met until thismoment?"
"But have you sufficient regard for me, dearest?" I asked, deeplytouched by her words. "I mean, do you love me?"
"I do, Gilbert," she faltered, with eyes downcast in modesty. "I haveloved no man except yourself."
Then I clasped her to me, and in those moments of my new-born ecstasy Irepeated to my love the oft-told tale--the tale that every man the worldover tells the woman before whom he bows in adoration.
And what more need I say? A delicious sense of possession thrilled myheart. She was mine! mine for ever! I was convinced that in thoseterrible sufferings through which she had passed, she had been alwaysloyal and true to me. She had, poor girl, like her father, been theinnocent victim of the ingenious adventurer, Dawson, and theunscrupulous young blackguard who was his tool, and who had inveigledher into marriage in order to subsequently possess themselves of thewhole of Blair's gigantic fortune.
The wheel of fortune, however, ran back upon them, and instead ofsuccess their own avarice and ingenuity resulted in their defeat, and atthe same time placed me in the position they had intended to occupy.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.
CONCLUSION.
Mabel and I are now man and wife, and surely no couple in London are asperfectly happy as we are.
To us, after the storms and stress of life, has come a calm and blissfulpeace. The faithful Ford is back as my secretary, while we frequentlychaff Reggie, who has sold his lace business, about his profoundadmiration of Dolly Dawson, who, even though the daughter of anadventurer, is, I am compelled to admit, a modest and most charminggirl, who would, I feel sure, make my old chum an excellentlife-partner. Indeed, the other day he inquired in strict confidence ofMrs. Percival, who has apartments with us at Mayvill, whether shethought Mabel would take it ill were he to propose. Therefore his ideasare evidently now running in the direction of matrimony. Old Halesstill lives at the Crossway at Owston, and recently came with his wifeto London to visit us.
As regards the Cardinal's secret, no word of it has ever leaked out tothe public, it being far too carefully guarded by us. Over the entranceto that great storehouse of wealth the grave, black-bearded monk in thefrayed habit, Fra Antonio, the friend of the poor of Lucca, still lives,dividing his lonely life between solitary meditation and attending tothe wants of the destitute in that crowded city away down the greenvalley.
The Church of Rome has a long memory. For years, it seems, active stepshave been in progress to search and recover the great treasure given byPius IX to his favourite Sannini. The presence in London of thewell-known cleric, Monsignore Galli, of Rimini, and his clandestineinterview with Dolly, was, according to her own avowal, in order toascertain some facts regarding her father's recent movements, it beingknown that he had a few months before sold to a dealer in Paris thehistoric jewelled crucifix worn by Clement VIII which was placed in theVatican treasury after his death in 1605.
Many men in the City are aware of the great fortune that has come to me,and you yourself are perhaps acquainted with the white exterior of onehouse in Grosvenor Square, yet none assuredly know the strange factswhich I have here for the first time put on record.
A month ago I was seated in that silent little cell which so cunninglyconceals the vast wealth of which I am now possessor and which hasplaced me among the millionaires of England, and in relating to him indetail Mabel's tragic story of how cruelly she was victimised, I wasexpressing my mind freely upon the dastardly action of that man who hadbeen engulfed in the subterranean flood, when the kindly monk with thefurrowed face raised his hand and, pointing to the great crucifix uponthe wall, said in that calm voice of his--"No, no, Signor Greenwood.Hatred and malice should not rankle in the heart of the honest man.Rather let us remember those Divine words: `Forgive us our trespasses aswe forgive them that trespass against us.' As we forgive them!Therefore let us forgive the `One-Eyed Englishman.'"
The End.
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