And you are no doubt aware of the reason of my visit?
I can guess, replied the unhappy man. You are here to arrest me I know. I
The renowned detective one of the greatest criminal investigators in Europe glanced quickly at the closed door, and, dropping his voice, said
I am here, not to arrest you, Msieur Poland but to afford you an opportunity of escape.
Of escape! gasped the other, his drawn countenance blanched to the lips.
Yes, escape. Listen. My instructions are to afford you an easy opportunity of well, of escaping the ignominy of arrest, exposure, trial, and penalty, by a very simple means death by your own hand.
Suicide! echoed Poland, after a painful pause. Ah! I quite understand! The Government are not anxious that the scandal should be made public, eh? he cried bitterly.
I have merely told you my instructions, was the detectives response, as, with a quick, foreign gesture, he displayed on his left hand a curious old engraved amethyst set in a ring probably an episcopal ring of ages long ago. At midnight I have an appointment at the cross-roads, half-a-mile away, with Inspector Watts of Scotland Yard, who holds a warrant for your arrest and extradition to France. If you are still alive when we call, then you must stand your trial that is all. Trial will mean exposure, and
And my exposure will mean the downfall and ruin of those political thieves now in power eh? cried Poland. They are not at all anxious that I should fall into the hands of the police.
And you are equally anxious that the world and more especially your daughter shall not know the truth, remarked the detective, speaking in a meaning tone. I have given you the alternative, and I shall now leave. At midnight I shall return officially when I hope you will have escaped by the loophole so generously allowed you by the authorities.
If I fled, would you follow?
Most certainly. It would be my duty. You cannot escape only by death. I regret, msieur, that I have been compelled to put the alternative so bluntly, but you know full well the great issues at stake in this affair. Therefore I need say nothing further, except to bid you au revoir till midnight.
Then the portly man bowed bowed as politely as though he were in the presence of a crowned head and, turning upon his heel, left the room, followed by his host, who personally opened the door for him as he bade him good-night.
One hours grace had been given Philip Poland. After that, the blackness of death.
His blanched features were rigid as he stood staring straight before him. His enemy had betrayed him. His defiance had, alas! cost him his life.
He recollected Shuttleworths slowly uttered words on the night before, and his finger-nails clenched themselves into his palms. Then he passed across the square, old-fashioned hall to the study, dim-lit, save for the zone of light around the green-shaded reading-lamp; the sombre room where the old grandfather clock ticked so solemnly in the corner.
Sonia had returned to the drawing-room as he let his visitor out. He could hear her playing, and singing in her sweet contralto a tuneful French love-song, ignorant of the hideous crisis that had fallen, ignorant of the awful disaster which had overwhelmed him.
Three-quarters of an hour had passed when, stealthily on tiptoe, the girl crept into the room, and there found her father seated by the fireplace, staring in blank silence.
The long old brass-faced clock in the shadow struck three times upon its strident bell. Only fifteen minutes more, and then the police would enter and charge him with that foul crime. Then the solution of a remarkable mystery which had puzzled the whole world would be complete.
He started, and, glancing around, realized that Sonia, with her soft hand in his, was again at his side.
Why, dad, cried the girl in alarm, how pale you are! Whatever ails you? What can I get you?
Nothing, child, nothing, was the desperate mans hoarse response. Im Im quite well only a little upset at some bad news Ive had, thats all. But come. Let me kiss you, dear. Its time you were in bed.
And he drew her down until he could print a last fond caress upon her white open brow.
But, dad, exclaimed the girl anxiously, I really cant leave you. Youre not well. Youre not yourself to-night.
As she uttered those words, Felix entered the room, saying in an agitated voice
May I speak with you alone, msieur?
His master started violently, and, rising, went forth into the hall, where the butler, his face scared and white, whispered
Something terrible has occurred, msieur! Davis, the groom, has just found a gentleman lying dead in the drive outside. Hes been murdered, msieur!
Murdered! gasped Poland breathlessly. Who is he?
The gentleman who called upon you three-quarters of an hour ago. Hes lying dead out yonder.
Wheres a lantern? Let me go and see! cried Poland. And a few moments later master and man were standing with the groom beside the lifeless body of Henri Guertin, the great detective, the terror of all French criminals. The white countenance, with its open, staring eyes, bore a horrified expression, but the only wound that could be distinguished was a deep cut across the palm of the right hand, a clean cut, evidently inflicted by a keen-edged knife.
Davis, on his way in, had, he explained, stumbled across the body in the darkness, ten minutes before.
Philip Poland had knelt, his hand upon the dead mans heart, when suddenly all three were startled by the sound of footsteps upon the gravel, and next moment two men loomed up into the uncertain light of the lantern.
One was tall and middle-aged, in dark tweeds and a brown hat of soft felt; the other, short and stout, wearing gold pince-nez.
A loud cry of dismay broke from Polands fevered lips as his eyes fell upon the latter.
Hallo! Whats this? cried a sharp, imperious voice in French, the voice of the man in pince-nez, as, next moment, he stood gazing down upon the dead unknown, who, strangely enough, resembled him in countenance, in dress indeed, in every particular.
The startled men halted for a moment, speechless. The situation was staggering.
Henri Guertin stood there alive, and as he bent over the prostrate body an astounding truth became instantly revealed: the dead man had been cleverly made-up to resemble the world-renowned police official.
The reason of this was an entire mystery, although one fact became plain: he had, through posing as Guertin, been foully and swiftly assassinated.
Who was he? Was he really the man who came there to suggest suicide in preference to arrest, or had that strange suggestion been conveyed by Guertin himself?
The point was next moment decided.
You see, msieur, exclaimed Poland defiantly, turning to the great detective, I have preferred to take my trial to allow the public the satisfaction of a solution of the problem, rather than accept the generous terms you offered me an hour ago.
Terms I offered you! cried the Frenchman. What are you saying? I was not here an hour ago. If you have had a visitor, it must have been this impostor this man who has lost his life because he has impersonated me!
Philip Poland, without replying, snatched at the detectives left hand and examined it. There was no ring upon it.
Swiftly he bent beside the victim, and there, sure enough, upon the dead white finger was revealed the curious ring he had noticed an oval amethyst engraved with a coat-of-arms surmounted by a cardinals hat the ring worn by the man who had called upon him an hour before!