desperation by you, had threatened to commit suicide, rather than ascandal should rest upon her noble house, you have written to her,telling her of your intention of making these charges, with the soleobject of causing her death by her own hand, and thus placing yourselfin a position of safety. Heaven, however, is just, and I am here toreveal those things that you have hidden from your husband--to tell theworld what I know regarding your past."
"Ah! no!" she cried, covering her face with her hands. "No! Enough!Spare me!"
"You have not spared Lady Lolita, therefore you must hear the hard andbitter truth." Then, disregarding the terrible effect his words hadupon her, he faced the Earl, and said, "What I am about to say will beborne out partially by our friend here, Mr Richard Keene--whom you knowby the name of Smeeton--partly by Mr Woodhouse, and partly by yoursister herself."
"Go on," said the Earl in a low voice. "I am all attention."
"Then, in order to understand events in their true sequence, I mustbegin at the very beginning," he said. "You will recollect that twoyears before your marriage you, with Lady Lolita, spent the spring atthe Villa Aurora at San Remo, while Lady Marigold was staying with hermother at the _Hotel Royal_, close by. At the same hotel was stayingRichard Keene, the man you afterwards met out in Africa under the nameof Smeeton, together with his valet, a good-looking young fellow namedHugh Wingfield. The latter had very foolishly given a promise ofmarriage to a rather pretty young French lady's maid named MarieLejeune, but on sight of Lady Lolita, he forsook the young woman andfell madly in love with her ladyship. The latter, of course, had noidea at the time that he was a valet. They first met casually whenwalking in one of the olive woods behind the town, and he rendered hersome little service in arranging the easel upon which she was sketching.He spoke well, dressed well, and as he mentioned he was staying at the_Royal_, the best hotel, she naturally concluded that he was agentleman. She had, of course, no suspicion of the passion for herwhich had been aroused within his heart. The young Frenchwoman,however, quickly discovered the truth, and her intense jealousy was atonce aroused. She was a woman of rather questionable character, beingin association with two Italian adventurers named Belotto and Ostini,who lived over at Mentone, and at once set to work to intrigue againstLady Lolita and Lady Marigold Gordon. The two being great friends, inconsequence of your engagement to Lady Marigold, revenge did not presentany very great difficulty to that interesting trio who lived by theirwits. I admit that I, myself, was living upon what I could win at thetables, and being at that time very hard-up had been induced to jointhem in various nefarious schemes which, although they brought us thewherewithal to live, caused us to be wanted by the police for helpingourselves to other people's property."
"To put it plainly," remarked the Earl, "you were thieves."
"Exactly," Logan replied. "But our recent schemes had met with littlesuccess and we were at our wits' end for money, when Marie Lejeune, whowas a born adventuress, suggested a scheme whereby, in addition torevenging herself upon the woman who had robbed her of her lover, wecould blackmail both Lady Marigold and Lady Lolita. Therefore, afterconsiderable forethought and much ingenious intrigue, the scheme was putinto practice. A watch was placed upon Lady Marigold, and it was foundthat she was in the habit of meeting clandestinely on the sea-roadtowards Bordighera an old friend, a certain Major Atherton, and that sheone day went over to Monte Carlo with him in secret, where she was seenby the valet Wingfield, who told his master. It was found that Athertonwas an old lover of her ladyship's, and a letter of hers was secured inwhich Lady Marigold wrote, `I am only accepting George for his money.You know my heart is yours alone.' Having secured that, the intriguersturned their attention to young Wingfield and Lady Lolita. Marie, withthe Frenchwoman's keen jealousy, discovered that she had met the youngman once or twice, and that he had copied his master's checker-boardcipher, and with her own name as the keyword, corresponded with her byits means. Lady Lolita had already discovered, to her great surprise,that the prepossessing young man was desperately in love with her, andhis affection rather amused her than otherwise, for every woman isflattered by attention. At last, however, the adventurers, of whom Imyself was one, contrived to effect a coup that was about as ingeniousas any devised by a gang of evildoers. The love-sick valet--stillconcealing his real avocation--had arranged to meet her ladyship afterdinner one evening in the olive wood at the back of your villa, but hismaster gaining possession of a cipher message which Lady Lolita had senthim, was, of course, able to read it and resolved upon watching thepair. What he saw he will, perhaps, relate with his own lips." Andthen the speaker paused and turned to Richard Keene.
"Yes," he said, "as far as I know, all that Mr Logan says is absolutelycorrect. Young Wingfield was my valet. He copied my checker-boardcipher, and by its means had the audacity to correspond with herladyship. When I realised what was going on I felt impelled to go toher and tell her. Yet she being a perfect stranger to me, it was reallyno affair of mine, so I hesitated until the evening in question, when Iwatched my valet meet her and walk with her in the olive grove abouthalf a mile from the villa. It was one of those brilliant moonlightnights of early spring on the Mediterranean, and it seemed to me thather ladyship was in no way averse to the young fellow's attention. Theywalked together for half an hour or so, in earnest conversation, when heat length took leave of her and, apparently at her desire, left her toreturn home alone. I followed her in secret, but she had not, however,gone far before I heard her utter a cry of surprise and dismay. `Help!help!' she cried, and in the darkness I saw black figures scuffling, thereport of a revolver, followed by a man's loud groan. I rushed forward,but ere I reached the spot the men's figures I had seen distinctly haddisappeared, but in their place stood the woman Marie Lejeune. Upon theground lay a man dying, and just as Wingfield, attracted by the shotreturned, the woman, who had bent tenderly over the prostrate man rose,and in her voluble French accused Lady Lolita of murder. At first herladyship was too startled and too utterly dumbfounded to deny thisastounding allegation, but when she did the Frenchwoman declared toWingfield that she had been witness of the crime, and taking up therevolver lying at the poor fellow's side pointed out that the weaponbelonged to Lady Lolita's brother, the young Earl of Stanchester--thathis name was engraved upon it. Denials were useless, but the craftyMarie, determined to await her opportunity to levy blackmail, urged herladyship to take back the revolver, and return to the villa at once,which she did. But as she turned away I addressed her, offering to walkhome with her, told her my name and escorted her to her own gate. Myown opinion was that she had met the man there and deliberately shothim, an opinion which I have held till quite recently, for it wasstrengthened by the fact that the dead man, when discovered next day bythe police, was found to be one of her most intimate friends andadmirers, Lieutenant Randolph Glover, a wealthy young man who had, afterdistinguishing himself at Ladysmith, been invalided to the Riviera."
"I recollect the tragedy quite well," declared the Earl. "And also whata great sensation it caused. The police theory was that he had falleninto the hands of sharpers, who had robbed him at _roulette_ andafterwards made away with him, fearing his revelations."
"Exactly. And the police theory was right," Keene said. "Marie, whohad fascinated him, while her accomplices had extracted from him almosthis last penny, shot him herself, without a doubt. But this did notprevent her levying blackmail upon poor Lady Lolita by threatening todenounce her as the actual assassin. She had also convinced Wingfieldof her ladyship's guilt, pointing out their intimate friendshippreviously, and insinuating that the tragedy was owing to jealousy. Imust admit that I believed her ladyship guilty, even though, when we meton the following day and she spoke to me on the promenade, asking me topreserve silence, she again denied her guilt. I promised her to remainsilent, hence the police of San Remo were in ignorance of her allegedconnexion with the crime, and believed it, as it really was, a case ofrobbery and murder. Yet Lady Lolita was held in bondage by
that woman."
Then Keene paused, and a dead silence again fell among us.
"Well," remarked Logan at last. "You have heard the truth regardingthat incident by one who was its eye-witness. Therefore, I will gofurther and tell you what happened afterwards."
I looked at the proud woman who had sneered at my love for Lolita, andwho was now swaying pale and unsteadily before us, but even then, afterthese startling revelations, I did not discern with what marvellouscleverness and daring she had schemed to shield herself at the price ofthe life of my well-beloved.
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.
THE AFFAIR IN SIBBERTON PARK.
"The woman Marie Lejeune quickly developed from the smart ladies' maidof the