CHAPTER XXXII

THE CONFESSION (_Continued_)

"In Geneva Square, Pimlico, I found the house I wanted. It was No. 13,

and was said to be haunted, as cries had been heard in it at night, and

lights had been seen flitting from window to window when no one was in

the house. I looked at it without entering, or calling on the landlord,

and then I went into Jersey Street to see the back. The house in the

same section with it was kept by a Mrs. Bensusan, who took in lodgers.

Her rooms were vacant, and as it suited me very well that I should be a

neighbour to Clear, I took the rooms. They proved--as I shall

explain--better for our purpose than I was aware of.

"When I told Ferruci of my discovery, he gave Clear money and made him

hire the house and furnish two rooms for himself. I supplied the money.

In this way Clear, calling himself Berwin, which was the name of Vrain's

house in the country, came to live in Pimlico. We also removed the real

Vrain to Mrs. Clear's at Bayswater, and he passed as her husband. So

weak were his brains, and so cowed was his spirit, that there was no

difficulty in keeping him in the house, and the neighbours were told

merely that Clear was ill.

"For my part, I took up my abode in Jersey Street under the name of

Wrent, and met Clear outside on occasions when it was necessary for me

to see him; but I never entered the house--for obvious reasons.

"I was constantly afraid lest Clear, in his drunken fits--for he was

always more or less drunk--should reveal our secret, and I took as my

bedroom an apartment in Mrs. Bensusan's out of the window of which I

could overlook the back of No. 13. One night, when I was watching, I saw

a dark figure glide into Mrs. Bensusan's yard and climb over the fence,

only to disappear. I was terribly alarmed, and wondering what was wrong,

I put on my clothes and hurried downstairs into the yard. Also I climbed

over the fence into the yard of No. 13. Here I could not see where the

figure had disappeared to, as the doors and windows at the back of the

house were all locked. I could not conjecture who the woman was--for it

was a woman I saw--who had entered, or why she had done so, or in what

way she had gained admission.

"While I was thus thinking I saw the woman again. She apparently rose

out of the earth, and after closing what appeared to be a trap-door, she

made for the fence. I stopped her before she got there, and found to my

surprise that she was a red-headed servant of Mrs. Bensusan's--a kind of

gypsy, very clever, and--I think--with much evil in her. She was

alarmed at being discovered, and begged me not to tell on her. For my

own sake, I promised not to do so, but made her explain how she got into

the house, and why she entered it. Then she told me an extraordinary

tale.

"For some years, she said, she had been with Mrs. Bensusan, who had

taken her from the gypsies to civilise her, and hating the restraint of

civilised life, she had been in the habit of roaming about at night.

Knowing that the house at the back was unoccupied, this Rhoda--for that

is her name--climbed over the fence and tried to get into it, but found

the doors and windows bolted and barred.

"Then one night she saw a kind of grated window amid the grass, and as

this proved not to be bolted, she pulled it open. Taking a candle with

her, she went on a voyage of discovery, and dropped through this hole

some distance into a disused cellar. Only a cat could have got in

safely, for the height was considerable; and, indeed, Rhoda did not risk

that mode of entrance again, for, finding a ladder in the cellar, which,

I presume, had been used to get at the higher bins of wine, she placed

this against the aperture, and thus was enabled to ascend and descend

without difficulty. Frequently by this means she entered the empty

house, and went from room to room with her candle, singing gypsy songs

as she wandered. So here I had found the ghost of No. 13, although I

don't suppose this impish gypsy girl knew as much. She haunted the

house just to amuse herself, when fat Mrs. Bensusan thought she was

safe in bed.

"I asked Rhoda why she had entered the house on that particular night

when I had caught her. She confessed that she had seen some articles of

silver in Clear's rooms which she wished to steal; but on this occasion

he had locked the door--a thing which he did not always do in his

drunken humours--and so Rhoda was returning disappointed. After this

confession I made her go back to her own house and promised to keep her

secret. I also told her that if she held her tongue I would give her a

present. For this purpose I made Ferruci buy me a cloak lined with

rabbit skins, as Rhoda on her night excursions wanted something to keep

her warm. When Ferruci gave it to me, and it was lying in my room, Mrs.

Clear came one night to see me, and finding it cold, she borrowed the

cloak to wrap round her. She kept it for some time, and brought it back

on Christmas Eve, when I gave it next day to Rhoda. It was Ferruci who

bought the cloak, not I; and it was purchased for Rhoda, not for Mrs.

Clear.

"The next night I entered No. 13 by the cellarway, and found it of great

advantage, as I could visit Clear without exciting suspicion, and so

keep an eye on him. At first he was alarmed by my unexpected appearance,

but when I showed him the secret way, he made use of it also. We used it

only on dark nights, and it was for this reason that we were not noticed

by the neighbours. It would never have done for any one of us to be

seen climbing over the fence. Mrs. Clear once visited her husband, and

had a quarrel with him about his drinking. It was her shadow and Clear's

which Denzil saw on the blind. As soon as they heard his ring they both

went out the back way, and in climbing hurriedly over the fence Mrs.

Clear tore her veil. It was a portion of this which Denzil found.

"On that night, Clear, after leaving his wife, entered the square by the

front, and so met with Denzil, much to the latter's surprise. I was very

angry when Clear showed Denzil over the house; but he said that the

young man was very suspicious, and he only showed him the house to prove

that there was no one in it, and that he must have been mistaken about

the shadows on the blind. Notwithstanding this explanation, I did not

approve of Clear's act, nor, indeed, of his acquaintance with Denzil.

"For some months matters went on in this way. Clear remained in the

Silent House, drinking himself to death; Mrs. Clear looked after Vrain

in her Bayswater house; and I, in my old-man disguise, remained in

Jersey Street, although at times I left there and went to see my

daughter. All this time Lydia had no idea of what we were preparing.

Then I began to grow wearied of the position, for Clear proved tougher

than we anticipated, and showed no signs of dying. In despair, I thought

I would give him the means to kill himself.

"Mind, I did not wish to murder him myself; but the man, when in his

drinking fits, thought he was attacked by enemies, and when in a

melancholic frame of mind, on recovery, would frequently hint at

suicide. I therefore thought that if a weapon were left within his reach

he might kill himself. I don't defend my conduct in this case, but

surely this drunken scoundrel was better dead than alive. In choosing a

weapon, I wished to select one that would implicate Ferruci rather than

myself, in case there was any trouble over the matter; so I chose for my

purpose a stiletto which hung by a parti-coloured ribbon on the walls of

the library at Berwin Manor. I fancied that the stiletto, having been

bought in Florence, and Ferruci coming from Florence, he, if

anyone--should any of these facts come to light--would be credited with

giving it to Clear.

"I took this stiletto from Berwin Manor some time before Christmas, and,

bringing it up to town, I left it, on the day before Christmas, on the

table in Clear's sitting-room. That was at nine o'clock in the night,

and that was when I last saw him alive. Who killed him I know no more

than any one else.

"On Christmas Eve I was ill, and wrote to Lydia to come up. She met me

at the Pegalls', but as I felt ill, I left there at six o'clock, and

Lydia stayed with the family all night. At seven o'clock Mrs. Clear came

to me with Ferruci, and brought back the cloak which I gave afterwards

to Rhoda. She wanted to see her husband again, but I refused to let her

risk the visit. Ferruci came to tell me that he was arranging to place

Vrain--who was becoming too violent to be restrained--in the private

asylum of Dr. Jorce, at Hampstead. Mrs. Clear was to go with him, and we

conversed about the matter.

"Ferruci went away first, as he desired to see Clear, and for that

purpose waited about until it was darker, and went into the back yard

shortly after eight o'clock. There he was seen by Rhoda as he was about

to climb the fence, and, not knowing it was the girl, he took fright and

ran out of the yard into Jersey Street. Here he found Mrs. Clear, who

had left me and was waiting for him, and the pair went off to see Dr.

Jorce at Hampstead. I believe they remained there all night.

"Left alone, I climbed over the fence about nine o'clock, and saw Clear.

He was celebrating Christmas Eve by drinking heavily, and I was unable

to bring him to reason. I therefore left the stiletto which I had

brought with me on the table, and returned to my house in Jersey Street.

I never saw him alive again. I went to bed and slept all night, so I was

aware of nothing in connection with the death until late on Christmas

Day. Then Mrs. Bensusan was told by Miss Greeb, the landlady of Denzil,

that the tenant of No. 13 had been murdered. I fancied that he had

killed himself in a fit of melancholia, with the stiletto I had left on

his table; but I did not dare to go near the house to find this out.

"Afterwards I learned that the doctor who examined the body was of the

opinion that Clear had been murdered; and, being afraid about the police

taking up the case, I paid Mrs. Bensusan a week's rent and left her

house two days after Christmas. I returned to Berwin Manor, and shortly

afterwards Ferruci joined me there, as he had successfully incarcerated

Vrain in the asylum under the name of Michael Clear.

"When the advertisement came out, it was I who hinted to Lydia that the

dead man--seeing that he was called Berwin--might be her husband. We

went up to town: Lydia identified the body of Clear as her husband in

all innocence--for after death the man looked more like Vrain than ever;

and in due time the assurance money was obtained.

"I do not think there is anything more to tell, save that I did not know

that Mrs. Clear had betrayed me. I could not pay her the money, as I

could not get it from Lydia. I told Lydia I was going to Paris, but in

reality I was hunting for Rhoda, who had run away from Jersey Street. I

fancied she might betray us, and wished to make things safe with her.

Before I found her, however, I saw in the papers that Ferruci had

committed suicide; also that Lydia--who had gone to Dover to meet me,

thinking I was returning from Paris--had been arrested. Then I saw Mrs.

Clear's advertisement saying she would betray me if I did not pay the

money. I consented to meet her in order to implore her silence, and so

fell into the clutches of the law.

"I may state that I did not kill Clear, as I never saw him after nine

o'clock, and then he was alive. In spite of what the doctor said, I am

still inclined to think he killed himself. Now I have made a clean

breast of it--I am willing to be punished; but I hope Lydia will be set

free, for whosoever is guilty, she is innocent. I have been an unlucky

man, and I remain one at this moment when I sign myself for the last

time,

JABEZ CLYNE."

* * * * *

Needless to say, both Link and Denzil were greatly surprised at this

confession, which revealed all things save the one they wished to know.

"What do you think of this idea of suicide?" asked Lucian.

"It is quite out of the question," replied the detective decidedly. "The

doctor who examined the body said that it was impossible the man could

have committed suicide. The position of the wound shows that; also the

power of the stroke. No man could drive a stiletto so dexterously and

strongly into the heart. Also the room was in confusion, which points to

a struggle, and the stiletto is missing. It was not suicide, but murder,

and I believe either Clyne or Ferruci killed the man."

"But Ferruci was not----"

"He was not there after ten," interrupted Link, "but he was there about

eight. I dare say when Rhoda saw him he was coming back after having

committed the deed, and Clyne says the stiletto was not there at the

time just to screen him."

"It is of little use to screen the dead," said Lucian. "I think only one

person can tell the truth about this murder, and that is Rhoda."

"I'm looking for her, Mr. Denzil."

This was easy saying, but harder doing, for weeks passed away, and in

spite of all the efforts of the police Rhoda could not be found. Then

one morning the detective, much excited, burst into Lucian's rooms

waving a paper over his head.

"A confession!" he cried. "Another confession!"

"Of whom?" asked Lucian, surprised.

"Of Rhoda!" replied Link excitedly. "She has confessed! It was Rhoda who

killed Michael Clear!"