the chest.Valerie released her hold and again the body lolled upon the floor.The woman snatched up her hat, and, without casting a glance at themurdered man or uttering a word, both went out and closed the door afterthem. Five minutes later I followed, hardly daring to breathe until Ihad reached the boulevard and mingled with the people."
"Good God! Is it really true?" demanded Egerton excitedly.
"True? Bah! Surely you are not such an imbecile as to believe the foullies of that woman?" shouted Hugh's wife. "She has no proof."
"I'll convince you before I have finished," answered Gabrielle. "Thestrangest phase of the affair yet remains to be narrated--"
"_Diable_!" cried the trembling woman passionately. "Ah! you wouldcrush me, would you not?" she said, with a hollow laugh. "You--youwould hurry me off to pay the penalty without a moment's pity. But Ishall be out of your reach. You see well enough that you can't succeed;bah! you are vanquished."
Gabrielle took no heed of this sudden outburst of fury. Drawing fromher pocket a crumpled newspaper, she said--
"This is a copy of the _Gaulois_, containing a full report of thediscovery of the body, and if you read it you will find the threedistinct wounds described as I have explained."
"Then, after all, I am not a murderer?" cried the artist, suddenlyrecognising how he had been tricked by the woman who had so artfullycast her toils about him and bound him to do her bidding.
"No; you are innocent."
"Ah, Gabrielle," he cried earnestly, "how shall I ever thank you enoughfor clearing up the awful mystery and removing the guilty burden from myconscience?"
"Before you thank me, hear the end," she said calmly. "I told you how Imarried Glanville. Well, at that time I believed him to be a student ofwhose conviction I had unfortunately been the cause. Yet after hisescape he wrote to me, making an appointment for me to meet him inLondon, and admitting that Glanville was only a name he had assumed inorder that his friends should not discover that he had entered Bohemia.It was his hobby to study Art--"
"Who was he, then?" inquired Hugh, interrupting.
"Your brother."
"Douglas?" he ejaculated, in abject amazement.
"Yes."
"Surely you must be mistaken," cried Egerton incredulously.
"I said I would convince you. Here is the letter," and she handed themissive for their inspection.
"Did you meet as arranged?" Hugh asked breathlessly, recognising hisbrother's handwriting.
"No. Long before the enactment of the tragedy, this woman and hermyrmidons, Victor Berard and Pierre Rouillier, _alias_ Chavoix, haddiscovered who Glanville was, and also that he had a brother who wouldinherit the estate in the event of his decease. Yet the plot does notseem to have occurred to them until after his imprisonment. My husbandarrived in England several days earlier than I expected--"
"And they murdered him?"
"Yes. From place to place they followed him until a fitting opportunityoccurred, and, as you are aware, they carried out their evil design inan omnibus in a clever, audacious manner that baffled the police. Themurder remained a mystery, and it was not until several monthsafterwards that I succeeded in obtaining conclusive evidence provingthat either Valerie or her accomplice, Berard, assassinated him. Theywere unaware that I had married him, for I had returned to Paris andgone upon the stage again. But I afterwards accepted a Londonengagement, and set myself to watch the development of their skilfullyconcocted plans."
"But what was their object in taking his life?" Hugh inquired,bewildered by the extraordinary narrative.
"It was quite plain. Immediately after our marriage, before we left thechapel, I told Douglas that it was Valerie who had killed Nicholson, andnot himself, as he believed. The reason I did so was in order that heshould see how he had been tricked, and the announcement, I feel sure,transformed his love for her into deadly hate. Before he left `LaNouvelle' I believe he managed to write to her explaining that he haddiscovered her treachery, and announcing his intention of seekingrevenge. It was the knowledge that he had discovered her secret thatfirst prompted them to murder him. Their design was a deep one, toultimately obtain your money. They saw that it was impossible forValerie to marry Douglas after what had occurred, while on the otherhand it was obvious that if they killed him the estate would pass toyou, and Valerie could afterwards marry you for the sole object ofobtaining possession of the money. They believed, too, that if Douglasdied, Valerie's secret would be safe, therefore what greater incentiveto commit the murder could there have been?"
"Could they not have obtained his money without taking his life?" askedHugh.
"No. The preservation of the secret of Valerie's guilt was to them ofvital importance, for while Douglas lived he would always have her inhis power. She little thought, however, that it was I who had witnessedher crime and told Douglas the truth. She felt confident that bykilling him she would be free."
"And that she did, alas!" Trethowen added bitterly. "Ah! you havelittle idea of the terrible extremities to which they resorted in orderto ensure the success of their nefarious plot. Indeed, the conspiracywas a devilish one; they hesitated at nothing. They had no money whenValerie commenced to allure you by her crafty smiles, and you wouldnever imagine how they obtained sufficient to make you believe she waswealthy."
"How did they? Tell me."
"Rouillier--whom you know as Chavoix--is an adroit swindler, and to hisingenuity the credit for it is due. Some months previously he hadinsured his life for a large amount, and having made a holograph willbequeathing the money to an imaginary person named Chavoix, he thensucceeded in finding a poor, destitute Frenchman in Soho who slightlyresembled himself. Aided by Berard and Holt he drugged his victim,placed his own card-case and letters in his pocket, and flung him from atrain on the District Railway. The insensible man was run over andkilled. The body was discovered much mutilated, and the insurancecompany, believing that he had fallen from the train, paid the moneyover to Pierre, who was already living in a secluded village in Belgium,and who had taken the name of Chavoix."
"How horrible to sacrifice a life for a paltry sum!" Hugh exclaimed,unable even then to fully realise the truth of the extraordinary storyof conspiracy and crime.
"The manner in which they got rid of you was quite as ingenious as theirdealings with that old scoundrel Graham, and all their other plans. Youremember, you were in Paris when arrested?"
"Yes."
"Well, it was your wife who informed the police. She represented thatyou were Douglas Trethowen, who had escaped from `La Nouvelle.' Youwere identified by the photograph in the _dossier_ at Monsieur Goron'sbureau, hence your arrest. The police had already discovered Valerie's_liaison_ with the murdered man Nicholson, and when you wereinterrogated you admitted that you were her husband. This strengthenedtheir suspicions that you were guilty of complicity in the murder, evenif you did not actually kill your wife's lover. Again, they hadpreviously obtained evidence that Douglas Trethowen was seen to leavethe house on the night of the tragedy accompanied by Valerie, thereforeit was not surprising that the heavy sentence was passed upon you,especially as Pierre Rouillier gave damning information against you insecret."
"This is all so strange, mademoiselle, that I can scarcely believe it,"Trethowen remarked. "Yet my brother's connection with this woman--thismurderess--accounts for the picture and letters of hers which I foundamong his papers. I remember now that one of the letters contained thewords `Boulevard' and `Montabello.' Yes," he cried, suddenly realisingthe truth; "what you have told me tallies with the facts. My brotherhas been murdered, and I have been victimised by this vile, debasedcreature, in a manner that has almost cost me my life. I believe youhave spoken the truth. My lifelong thanks are due to you for yourself-denial in watching the complicated game of these wretches, and restassured I shall not overlook your claim upon me as my poor brother'swidow." Turning to Valerie, who still stood ashen pale and trembling,he paused, looking straight into her unflinching
eyes with a terribleexpression of loathing and hatred.
"You!" he cried. "As for you--you know what punishment a murderessdeserves! I little dreamed that such a fair form could hide so black aheart; yet it seems that while pretending to reciprocate my love youwere planning my destruction--"
"No," she cried wildly. "I--I loved you--once," and she stretched outher hand as if to grasp his arm. He stepped back quickly, saying--
"Keep away! Your touch is polluting!"
Her submissive and resigned attitude instantly changed as he utteredthis reproach. Her look was menacing and full of hate. She