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<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> <h3>TOLOMEO'S STORY</h3> Durham was much excited when he read the account which Conniston had extracted from Mrs. Gilroy's diary. However, he declined to give an opinion until he read the diary itself. He then told Dick that the discovery had been made in the nick of time. "The Italian is coming to see me to-morrow," he said, showing a letter. "I advertised that he would hear of something to his advantage if he called, as Bernard wants to help him. When he comes, you may be sure that I shall get the truth out of him." "Do you think he's guilty, Mark?" "It is hard to say," replied Durham, shaking his head. "The whole case is so mixed that one doesn't know who is guilty or innocent." "Save Bernard," put in Conniston, lighting a cigarette. "Certainly. However, we may learn something of the truth from——" "Not Mrs. Gilroy," said Conniston quickly, "unless you have succeeded in finding her." "No, I have not been so lucky. She has vanished altogether. But Beryl may be able to tell something." "But he won't." "I am not so sure of that. We have Jerry in our hands, and that young scamp is in the employment of Beryl. He will have to explain how the boy came to [pg 233] lure Bernard to Crimea Square in time to be accused." "Why not ask Jerry?" "Because Jerry would immediately run away. No, I'll wait. Perhaps Michael may speak out. He's ill enough." "Michael?" echoed Conniston in amazement. "What of him?" "Oh, the dickens!" said Durham in quite an unprofessional way, and stood up to warm himself at the fire in his favorite attitude. "I didn't intend to tell you that." "Tell me what?" "That we had caught Michael Gilroy, or Gore, or whatever he chooses to call himself." "Have you caught him? Well, I'm hanged!" "I hope he won't be," said Durham, grimly. "I did not catch him myself. He came one night last week to the Bower to see Miss Malleson." Conniston jumped up with an exclamation. "That is playing a daring game," he said. "Why, the fellow must know that she would spot him." Durham pinched his chin and eyed Conniston. "I can't understand what his game is myself," he said slowly. "Of course, so far as looks go, the fellow is the double of Bernard without the distinguishing mark of the mole." "You have seen him then?" "Yes. A day or two ago. I asked Miss Plantagenet to pretend that she and Miss Malleson believed him to be Bernard. They have done so with such success that the boy—he is no more, being younger than Bernard—is lying in bed in the turret-room quite under the impression that he has bamboozled the lot of us. Of [pg 234] course," added Durham, looking down, "he may be trusting to his illness to still further increase the likeness to Bernard, which, I may say, is sufficiently startling, and to supply any little differences." "That's all jolly fine," said Dick, getting astride of a chair in his excitement, "but Bernard and Alice, being lovers, must have many things in common about which this man can't know anything." "Quite so. And Miss Malleson knew he wasn't Bernard, seeing that the real man is at your castle. But even without that knowledge I don't think she would long have been deceived. Michael, putting aside his marvellous resemblance, is a common sort of man and not at all well educated. If you can image Bernard as one of the common people, without education and polish, you have Michael." "What a nerve that Michael must have. How does he carry it off?" Durham shrugged his shoulders. "The poor chap is not in a condition to carry off anything," he said; "he's lying pretty well worn out in bed, and Payne says it will be a long time before he is himself. I think he is simply pleased to know he has been accepted as Bernard, and is glad to postpone an explanation in case he'll be turned out." "There's no danger of that," said Dick. "My aunt wouldn't turn out a cat in that state, much less a human being." "Oh, Miss Berengaria seems to have taken quite a fancy to the man. She declares there's pluck in him, and——" "But seeing he is a criminal—a murderer——" "We don't know that he is, Conniston, and this"—Durham [pg 235] laid his hand on the diary—"goes to prove his innocence." "Bosh!" said Dick, jumping up. "I believe Mrs. Gilroy prepared that diary and left it out so that Miss Randolph would drop across it. If anyone killed Sir Simon it was Michael." "Or Beryl." "He was at the theatre." "I know, but he managed to get the deed done by someone else. I really can't give an opinion yet, Conniston," said Durham resuming his seat, with a shrug; "to-morrow, when I see this Italian, I may learn something likely to throw light on the case. Meantime go back and tell Bernard I am working hard." "That goes without the speaking," said his lordship, lightly; "we know what a worker you are, Mark. But Bernard wishes to take a hand in the game." "Then he shall not do so," said Durham, sharply. "If he appears at this juncture all will be lost. I have a plan," he added, hesitating. "What is it?" demanded the curious Conniston. "Never you mind just now. It has to do with Mrs. Gilroy being drawn from her hiding-place. I'll tell you what it is after I have seen Tolomeo. But the success of my plan depends upon Bernard keeping in the background. If you tell him about Michael——" "He'll be over like a shot. And after all, Mark, it's not pleasant to think a fellow is masquerading as you with the girl you love." "Bernard must put up with that," snapped Durham, who was getting cross. "His neck depends upon my management of this affair. Should he go to Hurseton he will be recognized by everyone, let alone Jerry, who [pg 236] would at once tell Beryl. You know what that means." "I know that Beryl is playing for a big stake he won't land," said Conniston, grimly, and walked towards the door. "All right, Mark, I'll sit on Bernard and keep him quiet. But, I say, I want to tell you I am in love with——" "Conniston, I will certainly throw something at your head if you don't clear. I have enough to do without listening to your love——" "Not mine. She is—well there, I daresay your nerves are thin. I do wish all this business was ended. You used to be no end of a chap, and now you are as cross as a battery mule and twice as obstinate." Lord Conniston talked himself out of the office, and went down to Cove Castle by a later train. Here he managed to pacify the impatient Bernard, no easy task. But the lessons of that week taught Dick patience, a quality he had always sadly lacked. True to the appointment made by letter, Signor Tolomeo appeared at Durham's office and was at once shown in. He was a tall man with a keen, clever, dark face. His hair and mustache were gray and he had a military appearance. In his bearing there was great dignity, and it could be seen at a glance that he had good blood in his veins. It was true what Sir Simon had said. The Tolomeo family had been nobles of the Sienese Republic for many a century, and although their present-day representative was poor in pocket and played the violin for a living, yet he looked a great lord. But his dark eyes had a somewhat reckless expression in them, which showed that Tolomeo lacked what is called moral principle. Durham received him politely and indicated a seat [pg 237] near his desk with a smile. Tolomeo, with great courtesy, bowed and sat down. Then he fixed his large eyes on the lawyer with an inquiring air, but was too astute to say anything. He had been brought here on an errand, the purport of which he knew nothing; therefore he waited to hear what Durham had to say before he committed himself. "Signor Tolomeo," said the lawyer, "you were surprised to see my advertisement?" "I was indeed," replied the Italian, who spoke excellent English. "Our last interview was not particularly pleasant." "This may be still less so," rejoined Durham, dryly; "but as it concerns your nephew Bernard, perhaps you will be frank with me." "Ah, poor Bernard!" said the uncle. "He is dead." "No. He is alive." "Gran Dio!" Tolomeo started from his seat in a somewhat theatrical manner. "What is this you say, signor?" "I say that he is alive, but in hiding. I tell you this because I know you like Bernard and appreciate his kindness to you." "Yes! The boy is a good boy. He has been very kind to me. Although," added Tolomeo, with a somewhat cynical air, "I do not deserve it. Ah, signor, the want of money makes us all sad rascals." "That depends upon ourselves," said Durham, somewhat stiffly. "No man need be a rascal unless he likes." "Money can make a good man or a bad one," insisted the Italian. "I don't agree with you. But this is not what I wish to talk about, Signor Tolomeo. You are pleased that Bernard is alive." [pg 238] "Very pleased. But I trust he will escape." "Ah! Then you believe he is guilty of the crime." "He—or the other one." "What other one?" asked Durham, sharply. Tolomeo looked directly at the lawyer. "Before I speak out," he said, "it will set my mind at rest to know what you mean." "Does that hint you want money?" "Money is always a good thing, and I need it badly," said Guiseppe shrugging, "but, as this regards my own nephew, I am willing to aid him without money. I loved my sister, his mother, and she was badly treated by that old man!" Tolomeo's eyes flashed. "He insulted her, and we—the Tolomeo nobles—were great lords in Siena when your England was wild forest and savage peoples." "Did you tell Sir Simon this when you saw him on that night?" The Italian started up in some alarm. "What? You say I was with this English miser when he died?" "No, I don't say that. But I say you were at the house on that very night, and about the time the murder was committed. For all I know, signor, you may be able to say who killed him." Guiseppe, twisting his hat in his hands, looked keenly at Durham with his dark eyes. "Signor, be explicit," he said. "I'll explain myself thoroughly," said Durham. "You can sit down again, signor. Bernard," he continued, when the Italian obeyed this request, "inherits his grandfather's property, and, of course the title. He wants to help you, and proposes to give you five hundred a year as soon as possible." [pg 239] "Ah! That is good of him," said Tolomeo, gratefully. "But," went on Durham, with emphasis, "Bernard cannot give you this income until he is formally put in possession of the estate; and he cannot take possession of the estate until he is cleared from this charge of murder. Now you can help me to clear him." "Signor," said the Italian at once, "I thought Bernard was dead; that, as the papers said, he had been drowned crossing the river. But now that I know he is alive, you can command my services without money. All the same," added Tolomeo, smiling and showing his white teeth, "a little five hundred a year will make me a great lord in Siena, to which town I shall return." "After helping Bernard?" warned Durham. "Of course. I will not leave the country till Bernard is seated in his proper place, and married—I understand he is to be married." "I believe so. But he must first be able to face his fellow-men in safety," said the lawyer, quickly. "Now, signor, you admit that you were at the house in Crimea Square on that night." "Yes, why not? I went to see Sir Simon. I walked to the Hall in Essex to see him. He had gone to town; I found out where, and I came back to see him. On that night I went some time before ten o'clock." "I know that," said Durham. "Mrs. Gilroy admitted you. She says she took you up to Sir Simon, and that you quarrelled with him." "It is true, we had words." "And then you left the house without seeing her. Behind you, according to Mrs. Gilroy, you left the dead body of Sir Simon." [pg 240] Tolomeo started up as though about to run away, but immediately afterwards sat down. "I don't suppose you have called me here to make an arrest, signor," he said. "I am innocent, but I admit that I thought there might be trouble should it be known I was in that house on the night. I therefore kept silent. But now I know that my nephew is alive and accused of the crime, I will speak out. It was Mrs. Gilroy who admitted me, but it was not Mrs. Gilroy who let me out. I left Sir Simon perfectly well when we parted, and he promised to help me the next day." "Oh! And the next day you heard of his death?" "No, I heard of his death on that night. I was hanging about the house when Bernard escaped. I picked up—but I will tell you that later, signor, listen to my tale—it is strange but true. Set down what I say, for this I am prepared to swear to in a court of law. I should have seen you before and spoken had I known that Bernard was alive, but thinking he was dead I did not talk as I fancied there might be danger to me." "There is danger if what Mrs. Gilroy declares is true." "Confront her with me. What does she say?" "I do not know where she is," confessed Durham, and related how the diary had been found, and explained the contents so far as they bore on the accusation of Tolomeo. He listened attentively. "Oh, what a wicked woman!" he said vehemently when Durham ended. "I do assure you, signor, that I am innocent. Listen! I called to see Sir Simon before ten on that night. I sent up my name. The woman you speak of brought back a message that her master would see me." [pg 241] "One moment," put in Durham. "Did you see a red light in the window?" "Yes. There was a lamp near the window although the room was lighted with electric lamps. A red handkerchief was stretched across the window. But I know of the Red Window at the Hall," said the Italian, with a shrug. "My sister used to signal to me. I guessed that Sir Simon was making a signal to Bernard." "Are you sure of that?" "He told me so himself," said Tolomeo, quietly, "and it was because he thought I might know where Bernard was that he saw me. He said he would forgive Bernard and help me. We had some words, as he called me—a Tolomeo—names which I could not hear quietly. But afterwards he said he would help me, and then he wanted to see Bernard. Miss Randolph told him of the use she had made of the Red Window, so in this London house he did the same thing, hoping that Bernard might see the light and enter. If Bernard had," said the Italian, with great earnestness, "all would have been well." "Do you know if Sir Simon sent a boy to bring Bernard?" "No. I do not know. Sir Simon said nothing of that. He only put the lamp behind the handkerchief in the hope that Bernard might come to the house. For all he knew Bernard might have learned where he was staying. I think the old man was sorry he quarrelled with my poor nephew," said Tolomeo, with earnestness. "Well, after arranging this you left Sir Simon?" "Not immediately. Mrs. Gilroy came in and said that someone wanted to see Sir Simon. He heard her whisper to him, and said I could go away, telling Mrs. [pg 242] Gilroy to send up the stranger. She went away. I followed, and opened the door myself." "The front door?" "Yes. But when I was going out I heard Sir Simon call over the stairs. He asked me to return. I closed the door and did so." "Ah!" said Durham, making a note. "Mrs. Gilroy thought you had left the house. She said so in her diary. Then she came upstairs?" "No," said Tolomeo, "she did not. I went back to the room. Sir Simon said he wanted me to be present, as he had a disagreeable interview. He made me hide behind a curtain. I did so. Then the door opened and Bernard entered." "What!" Durham started from his seat. "That's impossible." "Of course it is," rejoined the Italian, smiling; "but I assure you, signor, the man who entered I took to be Bernard. He was——" "Michael, the son of Mrs. Gilroy. I know that." "Ah! And how?" asked Tolomeo, surprised and rather vexed. "I hoped to astonish you by this." "Well, it's a long story. I'll tell it after you tell me yours. Michael entered dressed as a soldier." "Yes," said Tolomeo, more and more surprised by the extent of the lawyer's knowledge. "I thought he was my nephew until I heard his conversation. Then I knew that this was Mrs. Gilroy's son and that she had been deceived by Walter Gore in a false marriage. Sir Simon told Michael that he was tired of assisting him, and accused him of making love to the housemaid. The boy—he is but a boy, signor—acknowledged this. Then Sir Simon said that Michael had forged his name for one thousand pounds." [pg 243] Durham started up again. "What! Ah!" he said. "So that was a forgery, and I thought Sir Simon gave him the check. It was honored." "Yes. Sir Simon said he knew it was a forgery, for the bank sent the check to him. But he said nothing about it so as to spare this Michael. But he said also that if Michael did not leave the country he would prosecute him. Michael retorted and there was a quarrel. I thought he would have struck the old man, so I came out. When Michael saw me he grew pale and, opening the door, ran downstairs and out into the fog. I followed to bring him back, as Sir Simon said, 'Follow him.'" "Why did Michael run away?" "I do not know. But he did. I went into the fog and followed him to the High Street. Then I lost him. As I turned out of the square I brushed past a man. It was under a lamp-post and I saw his face. He was in evening dress and was walking quickly. He entered the house by the door I had left open." "And who was that?" asked Durham, curiously. "Julius Beryl." "Impossible! He was at the theatre." "He was; but he came back," said Tolomeo, putting his hand in his pocket. "Listen. I ran up to the High Street, but could see nothing of Michael. I walked about for long. Then I came back before eleven. I found the door open, I saw Bernard in the hall, and heard that he was accused. I thought he was Michael returned. He escaped. I was by the railings on the opposite side of the street. As he ran he dropped a handkerchief. See!" Tolomeo produced it. "It is marked 'J. B.'" [pg 244] Durham snatched the handkerchief. A faint smell of chloroform lingered about it still. Beryl's initials were in the corner. Durham looked up very pale. "Yes," said Tolomeo, "that man killed Sir Simon." [pg 245] <hr class="hr2" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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