decoy and accomplice in a gambling-saloon in Paris. You hadinveigled my poor friend, Jack Pomfret, into a clandestine marriage afew days before. Jack, unable to survive his folly and disgrace, blewhis brains out. If not in the eyes of the law, you were, morally, amurderess."
"You are mad, raving mad!" she cried, but her voice seemed strangled asshe made the bold denial.
"Not mad, Mrs Spencer, but very sane, as I will show you in a fewseconds. As I told you, I recognised you that night at the Southleighdinner-party, in spite of the pains you had taken to camouflageyourself. But I waited for corroborative evidence. The detective whoarrested your so-called brother, George Burton, has seen you and isprepared to swear to your identity as Norah Burton."
Then suddenly she gave way, fell on her knees before him, and stretchedout appealing hands.
"Oh, you are very clever; I see you have found it all out. But you willbe merciful, you will not drive an unhappy woman to despair, just whenshe has got into safe harbour. Will you be kind enough to listen to mymiserable history?"
"I will listen to anything you have got to say."
"My childhood and girlhood were most wretched and unhappy. At a timewhen most girls are tasting the sweets and joys of life, I had to liveby my wits. I fell under the influence of a good-natured, but verywicked man."
"In other words, George Burton?" queried Hugh.
"In other words, George Burton," she repeated in the low, strangledvoice that did not move Hugh very much. "I was starving when he met meand took me up. He was genuinely sorry for me. Mind you, I knewnothing of his nefarious schemes. He hid those very carefully away fromme."
"But you were his decoy, if not his confederate, in the gambling-saloonin Paris?"
"His decoy, perhaps, unconsciously, but never his confederate."
"And when did Tommie Esmond appear on the scene?" queried Hugh.
"Oh, much later. George got into low water and had not enough forhimself. I then hunted up my uncle, who received me with open arms."
Hugh was developing the instincts of a cross-examiner. "And TommieEsmond, I suppose, introduced you to the card-sharping crew at theElsinore flat, and you were launched as the cousin of Mrs L'Estrange,who presided over this delectable establishment?"
"I was a distant cousin of Mrs L'Estrange on my dear mother's side,"was the answer.
She was lying terribly, he felt assured. But he had a card or two uphis sleeve yet. Still, it was wise to see how far she would go.
"And when did you part with the so-called brother, George Burton?"
"Oh, very shortly after he came out of prison. I had one interview withhim; I could not do less after his kindness to me. And in the meantimeI had hunted up poor old Tommie Esmond."
"And what did you do after that night at Blankfield? I think youcleared out the next day. I heard you had paid everything up."
"Thank Heaven, yes. There was just a little money left. My life afterthat was a nightmare. Amongst other humiliations, I was a waitress in atea-shop." A smile of vanity broke over the charming face. "The wageswere very small, but I got a lot of tips." Perhaps in this particularinstance she was not lying, if it was true that she had been in atea-shop at all.
There was a little pause, and then Murchison spoke in his stern,inflexible voice:
"And how long is it since you saw George Burton?"
She had answered the question before, but he was hoping to entrap herinto some unguarded admission. He could see that she was considerablythrown off her balance, clever and ready as she was, by the extent ofhis knowledge.
"I told you just now, soon after he came out of prison."
And then Hugh rose in his wrath. And then she, seeing in his face thathe had another and a stronger card to play, got up from her kneelingposition and watched him with an agonised countenance.
"I am sorry to use such harsh words to a woman, even such a woman as youare, Mrs Spencer. But when you say that you are lying miserably, andyou know it as well as I do." Her face went livid. She assumed a toneof indignation, but her voice died away in a sob. "How dare you saythat?"
"I am not the sort of man to make a statement unless I can prove it upto the hilt. Your so-called cousin, George Dutton, keeps a bucket-shopin the City; from certain evidence in my possession, I should say it wasnot a very paying business."
Stella did not attempt to reply to this last shot, but she recognisedthat he had gone about the business very thoroughly.
"George Dutton, the bucket-shop keeper, is George Burton, the forger,come to life again, still, I take it, on the same criminal tack, perhapsin a lesser degree. Do you admit," he cried vehemently, "that GeorgeBurton and George Dutton are one and the same?"
"Yes, since you seem to have proof, I admit it," was the somewhat sullenanswer.
"That is as well; it clears the ground, up to a certain point. You sayyou parted from Burton soon after his release from prison, and have notseen him since. When was that--how long ago? You met him frequently asGeorge Dutton at Elsinore Gardens."
The courage of despair seemed to come to her, and she ceased to tremble."I will answer no more questions. Tell me what you allege and I willadmit or deny. Of course, you have employed a detective; you have hadme watched."
"Of course. I should not presume to cope single-handed with a cleverwoman like yourself. You have met George Dutton, alias George Burton,four times within the last fortnight at obscure restaurants in the City,and there is a strong presumption that you were handing to him envelopescontaining money." She seemed now to recognise that the game was up.Her self-possession returned to her. She sat down, and motioned to himto seat himself.
"You are much too clever for me, Major Murchison. You have handled thematter very well, so well that you have turned your vague suspicionsinto absolute certainty. Well, what action are you going to take? As amatter of course, you intend to turn me out of my husband's house?"
"If not at the moment, very speedily. You will admit, I think, withyour clever brain, that you should not remain under the roof of such anhonourable English, gentleman as he is a day longer than necessary."
"I will admit it, from your point of view, if you like. Oh, believe me,I can see your side," replied this remarkable young woman. "But youwill forgive me, Major Murchison, if I say that, from my point of view,I would have preferred that you had never been born. Guy is very happy;he believes in me and trusts me. It will be a great blow to him as tome."
"I know. I wish it were in my power to spare him this misery. But, incommon honesty, I cannot."
"And have you thought of what is to become of me when I am turned out ofmy husband's house?" she inquired in a composed voice. Her adroit mindhad evidently adapted itself to the altered circumstances, and was nowbusied in turning them, as far as possible, to her own advantage.
"You have George Dutton to fall back upon, also Tommie Esmond," wasMurchison's retort.
She snapped her fingers in a fashion that was almost vulgar, and she wasso free from vulgar actions.
"George is thankful that I can, from time to time, fling him a ten-poundnote; his luck has deserted him. Tommie Esmond, I believe, saved a bitout of the wreck, but he has not more than enough to keep body and soultogether."
"Guy is not a man to behave ungenerously, however deeply he has beenwronged," said Hugh, after he had reflected a few moments. He addedmore hesitatingly, "And if Guy should take an obdurate attitude, it ispossible I might come to your assistance. I have hunted you down, but Ido not want to drive you into the gutter."
"But a man must support his wife, even if her past has not been quite sorespectable as it might have been," she cried defiantly.
Hugh directed upon her a searching look. "Mrs Spencer, it is in mymind that you may not be Guy's wife after all. If I probed a littledeeper, I might get at your real relations with this George Dutton, orrather Burton."
"Oh, this time you are really pursuing a will-o'-the-wisp, I assure you.George has never been anything
to me but brother or cousin, as theoccasion demanded."
She paused a second, and there was a terrified look in her eyes as sheadded, "But even if your suspicions were correct, which they are not,you would not go back from your own promise. If Guy proved obdurate,you would not drive me to the gutter. You promised me that."
"I shall keep my promise, Mrs Spencer, and I will give it you inwriting, if you wish."
"It would be as well. And you will want something from me in writingalso, I expect," she concluded shrewdly.
"Certainly I shall," said Hugh steadily. "I shall draw up a fullconfession for you to sign, to prevent you from ever troubling yourhusband again--if, as I suggested just