CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
THE FRENCHMAN MAKES A STATEMENT
"Ah! I regret, m'sieur, that I do not know," replied the Frenchman."And yet," he added, after a second's hesitation, "I do not exactlyregret. Perhaps it is best, after all, that I should remain inignorance. But, Monsieur Biddulph, I would make one request on yourwife's behalf."
"On her behalf!" I gasped. "What is it?"
"That you do not prejudge her. She has left you because--well, becauseshe had good reason. But one day, when you know the truth, you willcertainly not judge her too harshly."
"I do not judge her harshly," I protested. "How can I, when I love heras devotedly as I do! I feel confident that the misfortunes she hasbrought upon me were not of her own seeking."
"She very narrowly escaped the vengeance of those two assassins,"Guertin said; "how narrowly, neither you nor she will ever know. Formonths I have watched them closely, both here and in France andGermany, in order to catch them red-handed; but they have been tooclever for me, and we must rely upon the evidence which thatback-garden in Porchester Terrace will now yield up. The gang is partof a great criminal association, that society of internationalthieves of which one member was the man you knew as Harriman, andwhose real name was Bell--now at Devil's Island for the murder of therising young English parliamentary Under-Secretary Ronald Burke. Themurder was believed to have been committed with a political motive,and through certain false evidence furnished by the man Pennington, aperson named Louis Lessar, chief of the band, was first arrested, andcondemned by the Assize Court of the Seine. Both were sent to Devil'sIsland for life, but recently Lessar escaped, and was daring enough tocome to England as Mr. Lewis."
"Lewis!" I gasped. "That was the fellow with whom my wife escaped--theman who presided over the secret deliberations of the gang at theirassembly at Stamford!"
"Yes. Once a British officer, he had been leader of the great criminalorganization before his arrest. They were the most formidable inEurope, for they always acted on scientific principles, and alwayswell provided with funds. Some of their coups were utterly amazing.But on his arrest and imprisonment the society dwindled under theleadership of Pennington, a low-bred blackguard, who could not even beloyal to his associates."
"Excuse me, sir," remarked the sergeant, again shown into the room byBrowning. "Our C.I.D. men have been at work all day in the gardenbehind that house in Porchester Terrace. A big hole was found dugthere, and already they've turned up the remains of two persons--aman and a woman. I ought to have told you that we had it over thetelegraph at the station about an hour ago. Superintendent Mayhew andProfessor Salt have been there to examine the remains recovered."
"Two victims!" I exclaimed. "The open grave found there was preparedfor me!"
"No doubt," exclaimed Guertin. "When I first communicated with yourScotland Yard, they refused to believe my allegations against Reckittand Forbes. But I had had my suspicions aroused by their actions inParis, and I was positive. But oh! your police methods are so verypainfully slow!"
Then the sergeant again withdrew.
"But of Pennington. Tell me more of him," I urged.
"He was your worst enemy, and Sylvia's enemy also, even though heposed as her father. He wished her to marry Forbes, and thus, onaccount of her great beauty, remain the decoy of the gang. But she metyou, and loved you. Her love for you was the cause of their hatred.Because of her affection, she risked her life by revealing to mecertain things concerning her associates, whom she knew were plottingto kill you. The very man who was posing as her father--and whoafterwards affected friendship for you--told that pair of unscrupulousassassins, Reckitt and Forbes, a fictitious story of how Sonia--forthat is her real name--had denounced them. This aroused their hatred,and they decided to kill you both. From what I heard afterwards, theyentrapped you, and placed you in that fatal chair beside the venomousreptile, while they also tortured the poor girl with all the horrorsof the serpent, until her brain became deranged. Suddenly, however,they became alarmed by discovering a half-witted lad wandering in thegarden where the bodies of previous victims lay concealed, and, makinga quick escape, left you and her without ascertaining that you weredead. Eventually she escaped and rescued you, hence their fear thatyou would inform the police, and their frantic efforts to secure thedeath of both of you. Indeed, you would probably have been dead erethis, had I not taken upon myself the self-imposed duty of being yourprotector, and had not Louis Lessar most fortunately escaped fromDevil's Island to protect his daughter from their relentless hands."
"His daughter!" I gasped, staring at him.
"Yes. Sonia is the daughter of Phil Poland, alias Louis Lessar, theman who was falsely denounced by Pennington as an accomplice in theassassination of the young Under-Secretary, Mr. Burke, on the Riviera.After I had arrested her father one night at the house where he liveddown near Andover, Pennington compelled the girl to pass as hisdaughter for a twofold reason. First, because he believed that hergreat beauty would render her a useful decoy for the purpose ofattracting young men into their fatal net, and secondly, in order thatForbes should secure her as his wife, for it was realized how, by hermarriage to him, her lips would be sealed."
"But they all along intended to kill me."
"Of course. Your life was, you recollect, heavily insured atPennington's suggestion, and you had made over a large sum of money toSonia in case of your demise. Therefore it was to the interests of thewhole gang that you should meet with some accident which should provefatal. The theft of the jewels of the Archduchess delayed theconspiracy from being put into execution, and by that means your lifewas undoubtedly spared. Ah! monsieur, the gang recently led by ArnoldDu Cane was once one of the most daring, the most unscrupulous, andthe most formidable in the whole of Europe."
"And my dear wife is actually the daughter of the previous leader ofthat criminal band!" I exclaimed apprehensively.
"Yes. She escaped with him because she was in fear of herlife--because she knew that if she were again beneath her own father'sprotection, you--the man she loved--would also be safe from injury.For Phil Poland is a strong man, a perfect past-master of the criminalarts, and a leader whose word was the command of every member of thatgreat international organization, the wide ramifications of which Ihave so long tried in vain to ascertain."
"Then Poland is a noteworthy man in the world of crime?"
"He is a very prince of thieves. Yet, at the same time, one mustregard him with some admiration for his daring and audacity, hiswonderful resourcefulness and his strict adhesion to fair play. Foryears he lived in France, Italy and Spain, constantly changing hisplace of abode, his identity, his very face, and always evading us;yet nobody has ever said that he did a mean action towards a poor man.He certainly suffered an unjust punishment by that false accusationmade against him by the man who was apparently jealous of hisleadership, and who desired to become his successor."
"Then you are of opinion that my wife left me in order to secure myprotection from harm?"
"I am quite certain of it. You recollect my meeting with her at theHotel Meurice in Paris. She told me several things on that occasion."
"And Pennington very nearly fell into your hands."
"Yes, but with his usual cleverness he escaped me."
"Where is he now? Have you any idea?" I asked.
"I have no exact knowledge, but, with the arrest of four of hisaccomplices, it will not be difficult to find out where he is inhiding," he laughed.
"And the same may be said of Poland--eh?"
"No; on the contrary, while the man Pennington, alias Du Cane, ishated--and it will be believed by those arrested that he has betrayedthem in order to save himself--yet Poland is beloved. They know it wasDu Cane who made the false charge connecting Poland with Harriman, andthey will never forgive him. The hatred of the international thief isthe worst and most unrelenting hatred existing in the whole world.Before Poland came to live in retirement here in England atMiddleton, near Andover, his association consisted on
ly of the mostexpert criminals of both sexes, and he controlled their actions withan iron hand. Once every six months the members from all over Europeheld a secret conference in one capital or another, when various taskswere allotted to various persons. The precautions taken to preventblunders were amazing, and we were baffled always because of thewidespread field of their operations, and the large number of expertsengaged. The band, broken up into small and independent gangs, workedin unison with receivers always ready, and as soon as our suspicionswere aroused by one party they disappeared, and another, completestrangers, came in their place. Premises likely to yield good resultsfrom burglary were watched for months by a constant succession ofclever watchers, and people in possession of valuables sometimesengaged servants of irreproachable character who were actually membersof the gang. Were their exploits chronicled, they would fill manyvolumes of remarkable fact, only some of which have appeared in recentyears in the columns of the newspapers. Every European nationality andevery phase of life were represented in that extraordinary assembly,which, while under Poland's control, never, as far as is known,committed a single murder. It was only when the great leader wascondemned and exiled, and the band fell away, that Pennington, Reckittand Forbes conceived the idea of extorting money by means of theserpent, allowing the reptile to strike fatally, and so preventexposure. By that horrible torture of the innocent and helpless theymust have netted many thousands of pounds."
"It was you, you say, who arrested Poland down in Hampshire."
"Yes, nearly three years ago. Prior to Harriman's arrest, I went therewith my friend Watts, of Scotland Yard, and on that evening a strangeaffair happened--an affair which is still a mystery. I'll tell you allabout it later," he added. "At present I must go to Porchester Terraceand see what is in progress. I only arrived in London from Paris twohours ago."
I begged him to take me along with him, and with some reluctance heconsented. On the way, Guertin told me a strange story of a dead manexactly resembling himself at Middleton village on the night ofPoland's arrest. Arrived at the house of grim shadows, we found aconstable idling outside the gate, but apparently nobody yet knew ofwhat was transpiring in the garden behind the closed house. At firstthe man declined to allow us to enter, but, on Guertin declaring whohe was, we passed through into the tangled, weedy place where thelights of lanterns were shining weirdly, and we could see men in theirshirt-sleeves working with shovel and pick, while others were clearingaway the dead rank herbage of autumn.
In the uncertain light I saw that a long trench some four feet indepth had been dug, and into this the men were flinging the soil theycarefully removed in their progress in a line backwards.
Beneath a tree, close to where was an open trench--the one preparedfor the reception of my body--lay something covered with a blackcloth. From beneath there stuck out a hideous object--a man's muddypatent-leather shoe!
Even while I stood amid that weird, never-to-be-forgotten scene, oneof the excavators gave an ejaculation of surprise, and a lantern,quickly brought, revealed a human arm in a dark coat-sleeve embeddedin the soil.
With a will, half-a-dozen eager hands were at work, and soon a thirdbody--that of a tall, grey-haired man, whose face, alas! was awful togaze upon--was quickly exhumed.
I could not bear to witness more, and left, gratified to know that thetwo fiends were already safely confined in a French prison.
Justice would, no doubt, be done, and they would meet with theirwell-merited punishment.