IN WHITE RAIMENT.

Evening Star, Issue 11445, 12 January 1901, Page 2

IN WHITE RAIMENT.

By William Lb Qtjetjx,

Author of ■«. Whoso. Findefch a Wife,' 'Pnrple and Fine -men,'^The' Day of Temptation,' ' Of Royal Blood,' etc., etc. [Copyright.] CHAPTER XXIX. PUT TO THE TEST. "I remember very little of the events of that day," my lovo said, with some, reluctance. " I knew Ashwicke, ho having been a guest, here last year, aud a frequent visitor at Gloucester square. With Nora and Sir Henry I returned to London in early , May, after wintering in Florence, and one morning at the end of Juno I met Major Tattersett unexpectedly in the Burlington. He told mo that his sister and niece from Scotland were visiting him at his house in Queen's Gate Gardens, and invited mo to call and make their acquaintance." " Had vou never been to his house previously?" " , "Never. He, however, gave moan invitation to luncheon for the 24th of July, which I accepted. On arrival I found the major, his sister, and his nieco were out shopping; therefore I sat alone awaiting them in the drawing room,*whcn of a sudden I experienced for the first time that curious sensation of being frozen. I tried to move, but was unable. t cried out for help, but no one came. My limbs were stiff and rigid, as though I w.ero struck by paralysis, while the paia was excruciating. I fought against unconsciousness, but my last clear recollection of those agonising niomeuts was of an indistinct, sinister face peering into mine. All then became strangely distorted. The balance of my brain became inverted, aud I lost my will-power, being absolutely helpless in the hands of those who directed my movements. I could not hold back, for all my actions were mechanical, obeying tfeose around me. I remember being dressed for the wedding, the journey to the church, my meeting with my future husband—whose face, however, I was unablo afterwards to recall—the service, and the return. Then came a perfect blank." "And afterwards?"

" Night had fallen when I returned to my senses, and the strange sensation of iutens'o cold generally left me. I looked around, and to my amazement saw fho paTe'moon high in the sky-. My head was resting upon something hard, wliich I gradually made nut to be a wooden scat. Then, when I sat up, I became aware of the bewildering truth that I was lying upon one of the seats in Hvda Park."

"In Hyde Park? And you had been placed there while in a state of unconsciousness*'"

Yes. Upon my finger I found a wedding ring. Was it possible, I wondered, lhat I was actually married to some unknown man*:"

" You saw nothirg of Ashwicke?" "I saw no one except the maid-servant who showed me into the drawing .room, and cannot in the least account for the strange sensation which held me helpless in the hands of my enemies. I saw the man I married at the church, but so mistily that I did not recognise vou when we met a"ain." But you knew tfie Bouse in Queen's 3 Gate Gaidens. Did you not afterwards return there and seek an explanation of Tattersett?"

"On discovering my whereabouts I rose and walked across the Park to Gloucester square. It w;us then nearly one o'clock in the morning, but Nora was sitting up in anxiety as to what had "become of me. I had, however, taken the ring from mv linger, and to her told a fictitious story to account for my tardy return. Two days later I returned to the house to which Tattersett had invited me, but on inquiry found to my amazement that it was really occupied by a lady named Stentiford, who was abroad; while the man left in charge knew nothing whatever cither of the major or of his sjster and niece. I told him how I had visited there two days previously, but he laughed 1 * incredulously; and when I asked for the maid-servant who had admitted me he said that no maid had been left there by -Mrs Stentiford. In prosecution of my inquiries I sought to discover the register of my marriage, but not knowing the parish in which it had taken place my search at Somerset Houso was fruitless. They told me that the registers were not made up there until six months or so after the ceremony." '•You did not apply at Doctors' Commons?*'

" No," she responded. *' I thought the entry would be at Somerset House."

"What previous knowledge had you of the major?"

" He was a friend of Ashwicke's, who had been introduced to us one night in the stalls at Daly's. He afterwards dined several times at Gloucester square." "But Sir Henry does not know him."

" It was while he was away at the Cape." " Then you have not the faintest idea of the reason of our extraordinary marriage, darling?" I asked, holding her "hand. V I have told you all that actually occurred. Can you form no conclusion whatever as to tho motive?"

"Absolutely none," she answered. "I am as utterly in the dark as yourself. I cannot understand why you were selected as my husband."

"But you do not regret?" I asked tenderly.

' I^egret! No," she repeated, raising her beautiful face to mine, perfect, in its loveliness and purity. "I do noi. regret now, Richard—becauso I love, you." And our lips met again in fervent tenderness. "It is still an absolute mystery," I observed at last. "We know that we are wedded, but there our knowledge ends." "We have hoth been victims of a plot." she responded. "If wc could but discern the motive, then we might h>id some clue to lead us to the truth." *

" But there is a woman called La Gioia," I said; and, continuing, explained my presence in the park at Whitton and the conversation I had overheard between herself and Tattersett. Her hand, still in mine, trembled perceptibly, and I saw that I had approached a subject distasteful to her. "Yes," she admitted at last in a hard, strange voice, "it is true that ho wrote making an appointment to nieeb mo iu the park that night. I kept it, because I wished to ascertain the truth regarding my marriage. But ho would tell me nothiug. He only urged me to secure my own safety, because La Gioia had returned*."

"And.who is La Gioia,?" a "My enemy—my bitterest cnemyl" " Can yon tell mo nothing else?" I asked in a. tone of slight reproach. "I know nothing eke. I do not know who or what she is, or whoro she lives. I only know that sho is my unseen evil genius." "But you have seen her. She called upon you that evening at Gloucester square when she assumed the character of your dressmaker; and a few nighfcs ago she was here—in this house." $ " Here?" she echoed m alarm. " ImnosY Eible!"

.Then I related how I had seen her, and how her evil influence had fallen upon me when afterwards 1 had entered my room. "The tiring is actually beyond belief," she declared. "Do you really think you were not mistaken?"

" Most assuredly 1 was not. It was .the woman who called upon you in London. But you have not told mo the, reason you were absent from your room that night.'" She was silent for a few moments, then answered:

"I met Tattersett. Ho demanded that T Should meet him, as ho wished to speak with me secretly. I did so."

" Why did ho wish to gee you?" " In order to prove to me that he had no hand in the tragic affair at Whitton. I had suspected all along that ho was responsible for, the colonel's death, and my opinion has nob altered. I begged him to tell me the reason of the plot against me, the motive of my marriage, and the identity of my husband. • But he refused point-blank, tellin" jne to ask La. Gioia, who knew everything." 1 " Have you no idea of her whereabouts?" "None whatever." "IS. via could bub find hfflc" I said^

"she might tell us something. Ah! if tc could but find her!"

My love was trembling. Her heart was II £° overttow »'g with the mystery of it all. let I knew that sho loved me—v'es, she loved mo.

How long wc lingered there upon the terrace I know not. but it jvus late ere we reentered the drawing room. Who anionthose/assembled guest.i would have dreamt the truth! "We were mau and wifo !. . As I went upstairs I found a letter lving upon the hall tabic- in the place, where' the guests' letters were placed. Barton had. I suppose, di-iv.en into Oorsham and brought with him ,the mail which would, in the usual course, have been delivered on the following moaning. Ths> note to from Hoefer, a couplo of . awkwardlv-seribhicil lines asking me to command sec him without a moment's delay.

Eager to heia- whether the queer old fekow had? made any discovery. I departed next morning by the eight o'clock express tor London, having left a. note with Bervl's maid explaining the cause of my sudden journey, and soon after eleven was-wkd with the old German in his lofty laboratory. Ihe table was, cs usiinJ, filled "with various contrivances, bottles of liquids and test tubes containing fluids of various hues, while before him. as I entered, a small tube containing a height blue liquid was bubble over the spirit lamp, the heat causing the color gradually to fade.

i h \ n Y' fr,ent '" he cried with his strong accent, holding out his big fat hand encased m a stout leather glove, " I am glad you hav o come-very glad. Ithas been along search, but I have discovered something, after all lmi see. these?" and he indicated his for„T7/! ra '? f retorts and test tubes. ue.l. i have ben investigating at Gloucester square, and have found the affair much more, extraordinary than I belie.ved." And you havo discovered the truth'" I demanded.

he responded, turning dowji theflame of the lamp and bending atteilively to the bubbling.fluid, from which all color had disappeared while I had been watching .Shall 1 relate to you the course of my mvestigation?"

"Do. lam till attention." " Well," he .said, leaning' both elbows upon the tablo and resting his chin uuon his Jiands.while the tame brown rat ran along the table and scrambled into his pocket" on that first evening when vou sought my assistance I knew from the'remote effects which both of us experienced that thy evil influence of that mysterious visitor in black was due to some unknown neurotic poison. It was for that reason that I was enabled to administer an antidote without making an exact diagnosis. Now, as you are well aware, toxicologv is a verv strange studv. Even common table salt is a poison, and has caused death. But my own experiments have proved that although the various narcotic poisons produce but little local change, their remote effects are verv remarkable. Certain substances affect certain organs in particular. The remote action of a poison may be said to be due in every instance t/> its absorption into tho veins or the lvmpl'?ties; except when there is a direct continuity of effect traceable from the point where the poison was applied to the point where the remote effect is .shown. It is remarkable that the agents which most affect Hie nervous system do not act at all when applied to the brain or the trunks of nerves Poisonous effects result from absorption of tne poisoning body, and absorption implies solution; the more soluble, therefore, the compound is the more speedy are its effects Uo you follow me?'' "Quite clearlv."

in* Tw P remot , C Cffect P'-°'l»ced on leaving that room made it plain to me that I fhnf 1° t W ? om tP owc rf«l neurotic poison that may be absorbed through the skin " V miCTOscopicnlly various objects within and without the room, but for a long time Ts unsuccessful, when one morning I made a discovery that upon the whito porcelain handle of the door a httlo colorless liquid had been applied Greater part of it had disappeared by constant handling; but there was sti'l somo remaining on the shaft of the handle, and the microscope showed distinct prism-' shaped crystals. All these I secured, and with them have since been experiment!!)". I found them to be a more deadly poison" than any of the known paralyzants orhwosthenisants with an effect of muscular' paralysis very similar to that produced hv curare, combined with the stiffness about the neck and inability to move the jaws so apparent in symptoms provoked bv strychnia. The unknown substance, a most deadly secret poison, and, as I have since proved,' ono of those known to the ancients, had been applied to the door handle on the inside, so that any person in pulling open the door to* go out must absorb it in sufficient quantity to prove fatal. Indeed, had it not been for tkw, antidote of chlorine and the mixed oxides of iron which I fortunately hit upon, death must have ensued in the case of each of us.

"To determino exactly what was the poison used was an almost insurmountable task, for I had never met with the substance before, but after working- diligently all this time I found that by treating it with sulphuric acid it underwent no ctmngi:, yet by adding a fragment of bichromate of potass a series of blue, violet, purple! and red tints wore produced, very- similar to those seen in the tests for strychnia. The same results were brought about also by perbxido of lead and black oxido of manganese. T dried the skin of si frog and touched it with a drop of solution containing a,-single one of the tiny crystals, when strong tetanic convulsions ensued, and the animal died in ten seconds. At last, however, after many other experiments, the idea occurred to me that it was an alkaloid of some plant unknown in modern toxicology. I w;is, of course, aware of the action of the calabar bean of the West (.'oast of Africa, tho alcazga, the datura seeds of India, and such like poisons, but this was certainly none of theso. Tt was a substance terribly deadly the only substance that could strike, death through the cuticle—utterly unknown, to us, yet the most potent of all secret poison?." " And how did you determine it at last': - ' " Ry a reference I discovered in an ancient Latin treatise on poisons from the old monastery at Pavia, now in the British Museum. It gavo me a due which ultimate!" led me. to establish it as the alkaloid of the vavana bean This beau, it appeal's, was used in the tenth and eleventh centuries bv a sect of despotic Arab mystics ealed the Fatimites who had made Cairo tfwir capital, and held rule over Syria. .is well as tho northern coast of Africa. The hist Fatimite was, at a later date, dethroned by Saladin. conqueror of the Koords, and who opposed Richard I. of England. The poison, introduced from J'-jgypt into Italy, was known to the old alchemists as the most secret means of rid-' ding one of undesirable acquaintances It« effect, it wis stated, wa.s the most curious of any known thug, because for tho time being it completely altered the disposition of the individual and caused him to give way to all sorts of curious potions and delusions, while at the sumo time he would he entirely obedient to the will of any second person. Afterwards came fierce delirium, a; sensation as though tha.lower limb's were frozen, complete loss of power, exhaustion, and death. But in modem toxicology even the- name of the vayanu, was lost.

_ " My first, step, therefore, was to seek assistance of the great botanist who is curator of Kew Gardens, and after considerable difficulty and many experiments we both arrived at the conclusion that it was the bean of a small and very rare plant peculiar to the oasis of the Ahir in the south of the Great Sahara.. At Kow there was a stunted specimen, but it had never borne fruit.; therefore we both searched for any other specimen that might exist in England. We heard of one in the wonderful-gardens of La Mortola, near Mentone, and after diligent inquiries discovered that a firm of importers in Liverpool had sold a specimen with the bea,us in pod. which was delivered to a person named Tutton, living in Bishop's Wood road, Highgate, and planted in a. small greenhouse there. I have n6t been idle," he added, with a grin. Then taking from a drawer in the table before him a photograph, he handed it to me, saying: "I have been able to obtain this photograph of Mrs Turtou^—the lady who purchased the plant in question." He held it out to me, and in an instant I recognised the face. It was that of the womajn who had crept so silently through the rooms at Atworth—La Gioia'.

Briefly. I told him all |hat hud transpired on that night, and declared that I recognised her features, whereat he grunted in tatisfactiofl.

"Ynu asked me to try to solve the mystery, and I have done so. You will rind this woman living at a house called 'Faii-mead,' in the road I have indicated. 1 have not only established the cause of the phenomena, but I have at thd sahio time rediscovered the most extraordinary and deadly substance known in toxicology. As far :i« the present case is concerned, mv work is finished. J have succeeded in niak"of the vayana alkaloid. Here it is !" And taking -h. small yellow glass tube, securely corked and sealed, he handed it to me. in the bottom I' saw about half a gram of tiny white crystals. I knew now why he was wearing gloves in his labora* ton-.

/ asked the queer old fellow, whose careful investigations had been crowned with such success. " How did tou know on the following day that it. was La Gioia who had come m the guise of a dressmaker?'' "I have Keen her, and T have seen the piant. [t is from one of the beans.which 1 secured secretly that I have been able to produce the substance. I knew her name by overhearing a. conversation between Miss Wynd -and her cousin on the following morning."

" And the woman is in ignorance that vou know the truth?"

" Entirely. I have finished. It is for you now to act as you.think fit."

I expressed admiration for his marvellous patience and ingenuity in solving the mystery, and when I left it was with the understanding that, if T required his further assistance he would willingly render it. CHAPTER XXX. " LA GIOIA." On the following afternoon, in response to a. telegram I had sent to Bervl. she accompanied me to Highgate to face La Gioia. Now th.it I had such complete evidence of her attempts to poison 1 did not fear her, but was determined to elucidate the mystery. Beryl accompanied me rather reluctantly, declaring that with such power as the woman held our lives were not safe.. But I resolved to take her by surprise, and risk all. After leaving Hoefer I had sought an interview with the detective Bullen. and he, by appointment, was in the vicinity of the house in question, accompanied by a couple of plain-clothes subordinates.

We stopped our cab in Hampstead lane, and descending found that the Bishop's Wood ro:id was a semi-circular thoroughfare of substantial detached houses; the garden of each abutting on a cricket ground-in the centre, and each with its usual greenhouse, where geraniums were potted and stored in winter. On entering the quiet, higbly-re-specbib'c crescent, we were not long in discovering a house with the name " Fairmead " inscribed in gilt letters upon the gate, while a little further along my eyes caught sight of two scavengers diligently -.sweeping the road, and not far away Bullen himself was walking with his back" turned towards me.

On our summons being responded to. I inquired for Mrs Turtonj and we were shown into the drawing room- -a rather severely furnished apartment which ran through into the greenhouse, wherein stood the rare plant. Hoefer had described it minutely, and while we waited we both peered into the greenhouse and examined it. The plant, standing in |he full sunlight, was about two feet high, with broad, spreading leaves of a rich, dark green, and grew in an ordinary flower pot. Half hidden by the leaves, just as Hoefer had said, we saw some small green pods, long and narrow—the pods of the fatal vavana.

Krc we had time to exchange words the door of the room opened, and there stood before us the bill, dark-robed figure of "La Gioia." Her hard face, pale and expectant, showed in the full light to be that of a woman of perhaps forty, with dark hair, keen, swift eyes, thin cheeks, and bony features—.l, coimtenar.ee not exactly ugly, but rather that of a woman whose beauty had prematurely faded owing to the heavy" cares upon her.

I was the first to address her. saying : " I think, madam, you are sufficiently well acquainted with both of us not to heed any formal introduction." *

Her brow contracted, and her lips stood apart. Then, without hesitation, I told her my name, and that of my companion, while the light died from her careworn face, aud she stood motionless, as one petrified. " We have come here, to you, to seek the truth o; the conspiracy against plot in which you yourself have taken part. We demand to know the reason of the secret attempts you have made upou tho lives of both of us."

"I don't understand you," she. answered with hauteur.

"To deny it is useless," I said detqrniinediy. "The, insidious poison you bare used is the vayan-.i, and the only specimen iu England bearing fruit is standing there in your greenhouse." And as I tittered those words T closed the door leading beyond, and, locking it, placed the key in my pocket. Her teeth -were iinnly set. She glanced at me, and tried to deny the allegation, but sf> utterly ivas she taken aback by my sudden denunciation that words failed her. A moment later, however, taking several paces forward to where we stood, she cried, with a sudden outburst of uncontrollable auger: " You—Beryl Wynd—l hate you ! I swore that you should die—and you shall—von shall!"' v

But I stepped between them, firm and determined. 1 saw that this woman was a veritab.e virago, and that now we had cornered her so neatly she was capable of any crime.

" T demand to know the truth!" I said in a hard, distinct voice.

" You will know nothing from me," she snarled. "That woman has betrayed mo!"» she added, indicating Beryl. " Your evil deeds alone, have betrayed you," J responded, "and if you decline" to tell me anything of your own free will then perhaps you will make a statement to the police when put upon your trial for attempted murder."

"My trial!" she gasped, turning pale again. You think to frighten me into telling you soinething--eh?" she laughed. "Ah ! vou do not know ihe!"

" 1 know you sufficiently well to be aware that you are a clever and ingenious woman," 1 replied. " And in this affair I. entertain a. belief that our interests may, after all, be mutual." '• How?" " Tattersett is your enemy, as he Ls ours." It was a wild sbat. but 1 recollected his words that I had overheard in the park at Whifcton. "There has been a conspiracy against myself and this lady here, who is my wife."

" Your wife 1" she gasped. " I have spoken the truth," I said. "I am here to learn tho details from you. If, on the other hand, you prefer to "preserve the secret of your accomplices I shall demand your arrest without delay."

She was silsnt. Then, after further declarations of ignorance, she Ma's driven to desperation by my threats of arrest, and at last said in a hard, husky voice : " I must first tell you who and what I am My father was an English merchant named .Tarfcn, who lived in Palermo, and mv mother an Italian. Fifteen years ago I was a popular dancer known throughout Italy "as ' iiii Gioia.' While engaged' at La, Seala Theatre in Milan 1 met an Englishman named Ashwicke——"

" Ashwickc !*' lExclaimed. j, " Not the man whom you know us Tattersett, but another," rQ c responded, "He was interested in the occult sciences, apparently wealthy, and much enamored of mc Tn the six months of our courtship I grew to love him madly, and the result was thai, we wero married at the Municipio in Milan, which- stands exactly opposite the entrance to (he theatre. A month afterwards, however, he decamped with my jewels and the whole of the money I had saved, leaving behind him as his only personal possessions a .box containing some rare old vellum books which he. had purchased somewhere down in I he old Tuscan towns, and of which he had been extremely careful. At'first I could not believe that, he could have treated nic thus, after, ail his professions of love, but as the. week's passed and he did not, return 1 slowly realised the truth that I had been duped and deserted. It was then that 1 made a vow of revenge. "Ten endless years passed, and my personal beauty having faded I was compelled to remain on the stage, accepting menial parte and struggling for bread until, by the death.of a cousin, I found ir.yself with sufficiont to live upon. Though I had no clue as to who my husband was beyond a name* which had most probably been, aasiimed, I nevertheless treasured his- books, feeling vaguely that some day they give me

a clue. In those years that -went by I spent days and days deciphering the old black letters and translating from the Latin and Italian. They -were nearly all works dealing with the ancient practice.of medicine, but one there was which dealt with secret poisons. I hate it here," and unlocking a ' drawer in a rosewood cabinet she took therefrom a big leather-covered tonic, written in Latin upon vellum. There was an old rusted lock of Florentine workmanship upon it, and the leather was worm-eaten and tattered.

" This contains the secret of the vayana," she went on, opening the ponderous' tome before me upon tho table. "I discovered, there that the poison was tho only onc'impossiblc of detection, and then it occurred to mo to prepare it and with it strike revenge. Well, although I had been in London a dozen times in search of the man I had once loved, I came again and fettled down here, determined to spare no effort to discover him. ,I'hrough four whole years I-sought him diligently, when at last I was successful. I discovered who and what he was." v » •

"Who was he?" I inquired. " The man you know as Major Tattersett. His real name is Ashwicke." " Tattersett!" gasped Beryl. "And he is your husband?" " Most- certainly," she responded. " I watched him diligently for more than twelve "months, and discovered that his career had been a most extraordinary one, and that he was in association with a man named Graham—who sometimes also called himself Ashwicke—aud • who was one of the most expert and ingenious forgers, ever known. Graham was a Continental swindler whom the. police had for years been endeavoring to arrest, while the man who was my husband was known in criminal circles as' ' The Major/ Their operations in England, Belgium, 'and America were on a most extensive scale, and in tho past eight years' or so they have-amassed a large fortune, and have succeeded in entering a very respectable circlo of society. While keeping watch upon my husband's movements 1 found' that he one evening a few months ago went down to Houuslow, and unobserved by him I travelled \)f the siviuo train. I followed him to Whitton, and watched him. meet clandestinely a lady who was one of the guests." "It was myself!" Beryl exclaimed, standing utterly dumbfounded by these revelations.

" Yes," the woman went on. " I was present at your meeting, although not .sufficiently near to overhear your conversation. By your manner, however, I felt confident that you were lovers, and thou a fiendish suggestion—one that I now deeply regret—occurred to me—namely, to kill'you both by secret means. With that object I went to the small rustic bridgo by the lake, over which I knew you must pais on your return to the house, both uf you having crossed it on your way there, and upon the handrail I placed the poison I liad prepared. I knew that if you placed your hand upon the rail the poison would at once be absorbed through thu .skin, and must prove fatal. My calculations were, however, incorrect, for an innocent man fell victim. Colonel Chetwode came down that path, and unconsciouslv grasping the rail received the, sting of death', while you and your companion returned -by a circuitous route, and did not therefore discover him."

" And is that really the true- storv of the colonel's death?" I asked blankly. " "■Yes," she answered, her chin upon her breast, ""iou may denounce mc. lam a murderess—a murderess!"

There was a long and awkward pause. " And can you tell us nothing of our mysterious union and its motive?". I asked her. ••Nothing!" she responded, shaking'her head. " I would tell you all if I knew, for you. like myself, have fallen victims in the hands of Tattersett and Graham. Only they themselves know tho truth. After'the tragedy at Whitton I traced Beryl Wynd to Gloucester square and still belicving'her to have supplanted mo in my husband's affections, called there in the "guise of a dressmaker, and while your wife was absent from the room managed to write a reply'to a fictitious message I had brought her from Graham. I placed the liquid upon the porcelain handle of the door on the inside, «o that a person on entering would experience no ill effect, but on pulling open the door to leave would receive the full strength of the deadly yayana. This again proved ineffectual ; therefore, ascertaining that, Graham intended to visit At worth. I entered'there ami plaoja-the terrible alkaloid on certain objects in your wife's room, upon her waist belt and m the room that had been occupied by Jimi on his previous visit, but which proved to be then occupied by yourself." "And that accounts for the mvsterious attacks which we both experienced!" I observed , amazed at her confession. " Yes," she rqilied, "I intended to commit murder. I vas unaware that Bervl ; ivas your wife and I have committed an error which I shall regret through all my life I can only ask your forgiveness—if vou reullv can forgive." * J

"I have not yet learnt tie whole fact*— the motive of our marriage," I answered. Lan you direct us to either of the man - '" bho paused. Then at last answered : "Graham, or the man you kuow as A-ii-w;cke, is hero in this house. He called upon mo by appointment this afternoon If you so desire, I will tell my servant to ask

But before doing so," cried Beryl, excitedly Met mo first explain my own pos'inon. I. too, am not altogether blameless. J.nc story of my parentage as I have given it to you, lvichard, is a fictitious one. I never knew my parent*. My earliest recollections vmc of the Convent of the fiacre Cceur at Brunoy. near Pans, whore. I spent fourteen 3 ears, having as companion during the latter oven years *oraFindlay. the daughter of .1. .Scotch ironmaster. .. Of my own mreiiK the Sisters declared they knew Sng nc as I grew up they consUntly tried to perfriend TA tak ° th Y CiL Xora > ™ best mend, left the convent, returned to England and two years afterwards married-Kir Henry' whereupon she generously offered me u place n Iter house a* companion. She is no l n]gr l-oii, hut knowing my susceptibilities, and in order that I should, not be looked upon, a, J paid companion, she gave out that wo IVWO cousin* Hence I was accepted as such everywhere.

\\ ith >ior» I had a pleasant, careless life until about two years ago I met the major unknown, to Now. and afterward, became™ friendly terms wrth a young man-an officer m the Guards, who was his friend. Tatter™l' iT" i' largt ; SUm from him at cart*: and then 1 saw to ray dismay that he had been attracted only by the mild flirtation T had carried on with him, and that lac had Played in order to please me. The mS increased my dismay by telling mo that this young man wa« the son of a certain wornS Mho was hM bitterest enemy—tho Italian STteHbl T " Gi ° ia - and •"• £Sd siek a terrible revengo upon us both. This nL? r ,' gUten m<> - Tl - M r'"ft* having been •srent in tho convent. I knew very little of the of hot? S\"° rld i ZV SOoa ™ suffic ™' of both to know that Tattersett was an expert forger and that his accomplice Graham was a clever Continental thief, whom the police had long been wanting. How I called at the house in Queen's &te Gardens and afterwards lost control over my own actions I have already explained. Tho motive of our marriage is an absolute enigma." ' Bhe stood before me white-faced and rioid -It is fortunate that Graham fa Jerk Shall we seek the truth from him?" I asked let, she responded- "Demand from him tho reason of our mysterious union " La Gioia touched the bell, gave an order to tho servant, and after a, few momenta of dead silence Graham stood in tho doorway. CHAPTER XXXI.CONCLUSION'. ,'iYou!" gasped the man, halting quickly in alarm. l J S Yt *'" l Mid : "Enter, Mr Graham. We wish to speak with you." " You!" gasped tho man, halting quicklv cried, turning upon La Gioia, " You've tola them the truth!" The color had died from his face, and he looked as grey and aged as on the first occasion when we had met and he had tempted me. - " Wc desire the truth from your own ling " I said determinedly. "I am not here without precautions. The house is surrounded by police, and they will enter at a sign from •me if you refuse an explanation—the truth, mind. If you lie you will both be arrested." "I know nothing," ho declared, his countenance dark and sullen. He made a slight instinctive movement'towards his pocket, and I knew that a revolver was there.

' You know the reason of our marriage," I said quickly. " What was' it?" "Speak!" urged La- Gioia. "You can only save yourself by telling the truth." • "Save myself!" ho cried in a tone of defiance.' "You wish to force mo to confession—you and this' woman La Gioia! You've acted cleverly. When she invited me here tins afternoon I did not dream that she had outwitted me."

The woman had, however, made, the appointment in ignorance of our intentions, therefore she must have had some other motive. But he was entrapped, and saw no way of escape. "I have- worked diligently all these months, and have solved the mystery of what you really are." I said. . . . '" Then that s sufficient for you, I suppose," and his thin lips snapped together. "No, it is not sufficient. To attempt to conceal anything further is useless. I desire from you a statement of the whole truth."

" And condemn myself ?" " You will not condemn yourself if you arc perfectly frank with us," I assured him. There was a long silence. His small eyes darted an evil look at La Gioia, who stood near him, erect and triumphant. Suddenly he answered in a tone hard and unnatural:"

"If you know all, as you say, there is little need to say much about my own association Tattersett. Of the latter, the police are well aware that lie is one of the ,mpst expert forgers in Europe. It was he and I who. obtained sixty thousand pounds from the Credit Lyounais in Bordeaux, and who, among other little matters of business, tricked Parr's for twenty thousand, i At Scotland Yard they have all along suspected us, but have never obtained Sufficient evidence, to justify arrest. We took very good care of that, for after ten years' partnership we were not likely •to blunder." He spoke braggingly, for all"thieves seem proud of the extent of their frauds.

" But you want to know about your marriage—eh?" 'he went on. " Well, to tell the truth, it happened like this. The major, who had dabbled in the by-ways of chemistry as a toxicologist, held the secret of a certain most deadly poison—-One that was used by the ancients a thousand years ago —and conceived by its means a gigantic plan of defrauding life insurance companies. About that time he accidentally met Miss Wynd, and cultivated her acquaintance, because, being extremely handsome, she would be useful as a decoy. The secret marriage was accomplished, But just as the elaborate plan was to be put into operation he made an astounding discovery." "What was the reason of the marriage?" I inquired breathlessly. He paused in hesitation.

" Because it -was essential that in close association -with us we should have a doctor of reputation, able to assist where necessary and give death certificates for production to the various life insurance companies. You were known to us by repute as a clever but impecunious man: therefore it was decided that you should become our accomplice. With that object Tattersett, accompanied by a young woman whom he paid to represent herself as Beryl Wynd, went to Doctors' Commons and petitioned for a special license ; possession was obtained of the house in Queen's Gate Gardens which I had occu-. pied two years previously under the name of Ashwicke—for we used each other's names as circumstances required—paying the caretaker a ten-pound note; and when all was in readiness you were called and bribed to many Beryl, who was already there, rendered helpless with unbalanced brain by the deadly vayana. I posed, as you will remember, as Wyndham Wynd, father of the young lady, and after the marriage, in order ito entrap you into becoming our accomplice,. tempted you to take her life. You refused, therefore you also fell a victim, to a cigarette, steeped in a decoction of curare, handed you by the major, and were sent out of the country, it being our intention on your return to threaten you with being a party to a fraudulent marriage, and thus compel you to become our accomplice." "But this paper which I found beneath her pillow?',' And I took from my pocket a sheet of paper with the La- Gioia upon ,it. " It is a note I sent to her on the day before her visit to Queen's Gate Gardens in order to induce her to come and consult with me. She had evidently carried it in her pocket." "And this photograph?" I asked, showing him the picture I nad found concealed in the colonel's study. We took, that picture of her as. she'lay apparently dead for production afterwards to the life insurance company. The colonel, who was a friend of Tattersett. must have found it hi the hitter's rooms and secured it. It was only because two days after the marriage Sir Henry's wife overheard a conversation between myself and Tattersett, in which you were mentioned, that we were prevented from making our gigantic coup against the life offices. While Beryl was asleep her ladyship found the wedding ring. Then, knowing your address, for she had seen you with Doctor Raymond, she sought your acquaintance on your return, and by ingenious questioning became half convinced that you were actually Beryl's husband. Your friend Raymond was slightly acquainted with her, and had been introduced to Beryl some months before." " But I cannot see why I should have been specially chosen as victim of this extraordinary plot." my wife exclaimed, her arm linked in mine. "You say that Tattersett made a discovery which caused him to alter his plans. What was it?"

"He discovered a. fovr hours after your marriage that you were his daughter!" " His daughter—tho daughter of - that man!" she cried.

"Yes," ho answered seriously. "He did not, however, know it until, while you were lying insensible after the marriage, ho discovered on your chest the tattoo-mark of the three hearts, which ho himself had placed there years before. Then, overcome by remorse, ho administered an antidote, placed you upon a seat in Hydo Park, and watched until you recovered consciousness and returned to Gloucester square. It had before been arranged thai, an insurance already effected upon you should bo claimed. The truth is," he went on. " that Wyndham Ashwicke, alias Major Tattcrsett, "first married in York the daughter of a cavalry officer,' and by her you were bom. A year afterwards, however, they separated, your mother died, and you were placed in the convent at.Brunoy under the name of Wyn'd, whilo your father plunged into a life of dissipation on the Continent which ended in the marriage with this lady, then known as La Gioia." "It seems incredible!" my love declared. "I cannot believe it!" "But Nora introduced you as Feo Ashwicke on the first occasion wc met after our marriage." I remarked. "I well remember ik Nora, must have discovered the secret of my birth, although when I questioned her after your departure she declared that she-had only bestowed a fictitious name upon mo as a joke." " Yet Ashwicke was youv actual name," I observed.

" You will find the register of your birth in York," interposed Graham. " 1 have tuld you the truth." " I will hoar it from my father's own lips," she said.

"Alas!" the pale-faced man answered very gravely. " That is impossible.- Your father is dead." . "Dead!" I echoed. "T&tterselt dead?" " Yes. He was found lifeless in his rooms in Piccadilly East yesterday afternoon. His man called me, and I discovered upon the table a tiny tube containing some crystals of the secret vayana. He had evidently touched them accidentally with. ha> fingers, and the result was fatal. The police avid doctor believe it due to natural causes, as I secured the tube and destroyed it before their arrival. The news of the discovery is in the evening papers," and taking a, copy of the ' Globe' from his pocket he. handed it to me. indicating the paragraph. I read the four bar? lines aloud, both my well-beloved and the* dea-d man's widow standing in rigid silejnee. Tils elucidation of the bewildering myslery and its tragic denouement field us speechless. It staggered belief. My explanation to Bullen or our subsequent conversation neod not here be recounted. Suffice it to say that from that moment, when the tvuth became apparent, the majors widow, who had once sought to take both our lives, became our firmest and most intimate friend; while Graham, having expressed, regret at his association in the conspiracy, and declared his intention of leading an honest life in future, was allowed to escape abroad, where lie still remains. And Beryl? She is my wife. Ah! that small word, which is so synonymous-of peace and hanninnpss 1 Several .rears h>tvo jjassecL,

and I have risen rapidly in my profession; far above my deserts, I fear. Yet we are-still lovers. We are often visitors at Atwprth And at .Gloucester square, while there is no more welcome guest at our own table in Harley street than tho ever-erratic Bob Raymond. - '•■•;"_ J

The_ongiaal copy c f the ponderous ancient Florentine treatise with its rusty locks, which the major left in possession of La Uoia, has been presented "by the latter'to the Bodleian Library at Oxford, where it can now be seen, while Hoefer's rediscovery of the vayana having opened up an entirely new field to toxicologists, the deadly vegetable, like strychnine and atropia, is to-day used as one of the most powerful and valuable medicines, many lives being Eared yearly by its administration in infinitesimal doses." All the bitterness of the past has faded. What more need I say? To-night es I sit here in my consultingroom writing down this strange history for you, my friendly reader, my wife lingers beside me, sweet and smiling in white raiment, a dead-white, dress that reminds me vividly of that July day long ago when we first met within the Church of St. Ann's, Wilton place, while at her throat is that quaint little charm, the note of interrogation set with diamonds, a relic of Eer ill-fated mother.

She has bent, and kissing mo tenderly upon the brow has whispered into my ear that no man and wife in all the* world arc half so happy as ourselves, lithe End.]