CHAPTER XIV.
In the morning Jane Morton prepared to meet Mrs. Brenton, and make herconfession. She called at the Brenton residence, but found it closed,as it had been ever since the tragedy of Christmas morning. It took hersome time to discover the whereabouts of Mrs. Brenton, who, since themurder, had resided with a friend except while under arrest.
For a moment Mrs. Brenton did not recognize the thin and pale woman whostood before her in a state of such extreme nervous agitation, that itseemed as if at any moment she might break down and cry.
"I don't suppose you'll remember me, ma'am," began the girl, "but Iworked for you two weeks before--before----"
"Oh yes," said Mrs. Brenton, "I remember you now. Have you been ill? Youlook quite worn and pale, and very different from what you did the lasttime I saw you."
"Yes," said the girl, "I believe I have been ill.".
"You _believe_; aren't you sure?"
"I have been very ill in mind, and troubled, and that is the reason Ilook so badly,--Oh, Mrs. Brenton, I wanted to tell you of something thathas been weighing on my mind ever since that awful day! I know you cannever forgive me, but I must tell it to you, or I shall go crazy."
"Sit down, sit down," said the lady, kindly; "you know what trouble Ihave been in myself. I am sure that I am more able to sympathize nowwith one who is in trouble than ever I was before."
"Yes, ma'am; but you were innocent, and I am guilty. That makes all thedifference in the world."
"Guilty!" cried Mrs. Brenton, a strange fear coming over her as shestared at the girl; "guilty of _what_?"
"Oh, madam, let me tell you all about it. There is, of course, noexcuse; but I'll begin at the beginning. You remember a while beforeChristmas that John came to see me one night, and we sat up very late inthe kitchen, and your husband came down quietly, and when we heard himcoming we put out the light and just as John was trying to get away,your husband shot twice at him, and hit him the second time?"
"Oh yes," said Mrs. Brenton, "I remember that very well. I had forgottenabout it in my own trouble; but I know that my husband intended to dosomething for the young man. I hope he was not seriously hurt?"
"Guilty! Guilty of what?"]
"No, ma'am; he is able to be about again now as well as ever, and is noteven lame, which we expected he would be. But at the time I thought hewas going to be lame all the rest of his life, and perhaps that is thereason I did what I did. When everything was in confusion in the house,and it was certain that we would all have to leave, I did a very wickedthing. I went to your room, and I stole some of your rings, and somemoney that was there, as well as a lot of other things that were in theroom. It seemed to me then, although, of course, I know now how wickedit was, that you owed John something for what he had gone through, andI thought that he was to be lame, and that you would never miss thethings; but, oh! madam, I have not slept a night since I took them. Ihave been afraid of the police and afraid of being found out. I havepawned nothing, and they are all just as I took them, and I have broughtthem back here to you, with every penny of the money. I know you cannever forgive me, but I am willing now to be given up to the police, andI feel better in my mind than I have done ever since I took the things."
"My poor child!" said Mrs. Brenton, sympathetically, "was that _all_?"
"All?" cried the girl. "Yes, I have brought everything back."
"Oh, I don't mean that, but I am sorry you have been worried overanything so trivial. I can see how at such a time, and feeling that youhad been wronged, a temptation to take the things came to you. But Ihope you will not trouble any more about the matter. I will see thatJohn is compensated for all the injury he received, as far as it ispossible for money to compensate him. I hope you will keep the money.The other things, of course, I shall take back, and I am glad you cameto tell me of it before telling any one else. I think, perhaps, it isbetter never to say anything to anybody about this. People might notunderstand just what temptation you were put to, and they would not knowthe circumstances of the case, because nobody knows, I think, that Johnwas hurt. Now, my dear girl, do not cry. It is all right. Of course younever will touch anything again that does not belong to you, and thesuffering you have gone through has more than made up for all the wrongyou have done. I am sure that I forgive you quite freely for it, and Ithink it was very noble of you to come and tell me about it."
Mrs. Brenton took the package from the hands of the weeping girl, andopened it. She found everything there, as the girl had said. She tookthe money and offered it to Jane Morton. The girl shook her head.
"No," she cried, "I cannot touch it. I cannot, indeed. It has beenenough misery to me already."
"Very well," said Mrs. Brenton. "I would like very much to see John.Will you bring him to me?"
The girl looked at her with startled eyes.
"You will not tell him?" she said.
"No indeed, I shall tell him nothing. But I want to do what I can forhim as I said. I suppose you are engaged to be married?"
"Yes," answered the girl; "but if he knew of this he never, never wouldmarry me."
"If he did not," said Mrs. Brenton, "he would not be worthy of you. Buthe shall know nothing about it. You will promise to come here and see mewith him, will you not?"
"Yes, madam," said the girl.
"Then good-bye, until I see you again."
Mrs. Brenton sat for a long time thinking over this confession. It tookher some time to recover her usual self-possession, because for a momentshe had thought the girl was going to confess that she committed murder.In comparison with that awful crime, the theft seemed so trivial thatMrs. Brenton almost smiled when she thought of the girl's distress.
* * * * *
"Well," said John Speed to Mr. Brenton, "if that doesn't beat the OldHarry. Now I, for one, am very glad of it, if we come to the real truthof the matter."
"I am glad also," said Brenton, "that the girl is not guilty, although Imust say things looked decidedly against her."
"I will tell you why I am glad," said Speed. "I am glad because itwill take some of the superfluous conceit out of that French detectiveLecocq. He was so awfully sure of himself. He couldn't possibly bemistaken. Now, think of the mistakes that man must have made while hewas on earth, and had the power which was given into his hands in Paris.After all, Stratton is on the right track, and he will yet land yourfriend Roland in prison. Let us go and find Lecocq. This is too good tokeep."
"My dear sir," said Brenton, "you seem to be more elated because of yourfriend Stratton than for any other reason. Don't you want the matterferreted out at all?"
"Why, certainly I do; but I don't want it ferreted out by bringing aninnocent person into trouble."
"And may not Stephen Roland be an innocent person?"
"Oh, I suppose so; but I do not think he is."
"Why do you not think so?"
"Well, if you want the real reason, simply because George Strattonthinks he isn't. I pin my faith to Stratton."
"I think you overrate your friend Stratton."
"Overrate him, sir? That is impossible. I love him so well that I hopehe will solve this mystery himself, unaided and alone, and that in goingback to Chicago he will be smashed to pieces in a railway accident, sothat we can have him here to congratulate him."