Hardly had Sir Daniel Jerce disappeared, when Clarice dropped like a log to the ground. The strain had been too much for her, and for the second time in her life she fainted. Anthony hastily summoned Mrs. Rebson, and the poor girl was taken up to her room. Then Captain Ackworth left the house. Business must go on, in spite of all untoward¹ events, and he was forced to return to Gattlinsands and to his duties. But before leaving he told Mrs. Rebson that he would come over the next day, and then addressed himself to Ferdy. "You had better remain in the house," he said, coldly, "as it will be necessary for Clarice and myself to arrange to-morrow about your future. You have escaped a great danger, and everything must be made safe, for your sister's sake."  
"I can arrange my own future, thank you," said Ferdy, haughtily².
 
"You will do exactly what you are told," said Ackworth, stern and unbending, "or else I shall inform the police."
 
"You would not dare--for Clarice's sake."
 
"For her sake I would dare. You have made her life miserable³ for years, and I won't permit you to spoil it any longer. Also I wish to avoid a public scandal. If Osip holds his tongue this may be done. But my forbearance depends entirely⁴ upon your obeying orders."
 
"But Clarry will rage at me all the evening," whimpered Ferdy, now very afraid for his skin. "Let me go to the Vicarage."
 
"Yes," interposed the vicar, "let him come with me and see Prudence⁵. Now there is no bar to the marriage."
 
"What?" cried Ackworth, recoiling⁶. "Would you have a scamp like this for your son-in-law?"
 
"I'm not a scamp," cried Ferdy, furiously.
 
Clarke raised his hand mildly. "My own son is worse than this boy--that is, he was worse, seeing that he is dead. Frank was a murderer, so who am I to blame Ferdinand for his wickedness? He is all right if he is kept in the strait way, and Prudence shall do this."
 
"Oh!" Anthony was too disgusted for words. "Would you force the girl to marry him?"
 
"No. But he shall tell Prudence everything. The acceptance, or refusal, shall rest with her."
 
"You hear?" cried Ferdy, in triumph. "Other people are not so hard on me as you and Clarry are. Can I go to the Vicarage?"
 
"Yes," said Ackworth, seeing the hopelessness of bringing Ferdy to a sense of his sins. "Go, and, for heaven's sake, never let me see you again. You are worse than a villain⁷, Ferdy--you are a fool," and he walked out, wondering how a girl like Clarice ever came to have such a blackguard for a brother. The next morning Clarice rose, feeling as though a black cloud had been lifted from her life. Things were bad, certainly, but they were not so bad as they had been. She dressed herself with great care and ate a good breakfast in her room. Ferdy had sent up to ask her to come down to the meal, but she felt that she could not sit opposite to him again. Like Anthony, she wished to see the last of Ferdy, even though he was her twin brother. When she was getting ready to go downstairs and meet Ackworth, who was expected at eleven o'clock, Mrs. Rebson rushed in.
 
"Oh, deary me--oh, deary me," she cried, wringing⁸ her hands, "what bad news, Miss Clarice--what dreadful news!"
 
"What is it now?" asked the girl, quietly. She had received so many shocks that one more or less mattered little. "Has Ferdy----?"
 
"He's all right, miss--the darling boy. You have saved him, though what you had to save him from I don't know, and he won't tell his own dear Nanny."
 
"Better not ask, Mrs. Rebson," said Clarice, with a weary sigh. "But your news--what is it?"
 
"That doctor and Jane."
 
"Dr. Jerce?"
 
"Yes, lovey--Sir Daniel as was."
 
"Oh! he is dead. I quite expected to hear that." Mrs. Rebson stared. "You expected to hear that Sir Daniel was torn in pieces by Jane?" she asked, incredulously. "What!" Clarice could scarcely believe her ears. "It's true, miss. You know that Jane always hated Sir Daniel, though why she did so----"
 
"I know why," said Clarice, thinking of the vivisection. "Go on."
 
"Well, then, miss, Jane followed Sir Daniel when he went away last night. The groom--Thomas--saw her. This morning he found her with her jaws⁹ all over blood, footsore and weary, as though she had come a long way. And she's been stabbed in the side with a penknife, miss, as the wounds--three of them--are so small."
 
"Well? Well?" asked Clarice, impatiently, while Mrs. Rebson stopped for sheer want of breath. "What has this to do with Sir Daniel?"
 
"What's it got to do with him?" screeched¹⁰ the housekeeper¹¹, sitting down. "Why, miss, news has just come by a couple of labourers that the body of Sir Daniel has been found on Barnes Common, fifteen miles away, with his throat tore out, and the poor man as dead as a herring. It is thought that the dog did it, since she hated him, and the police are coming in an hour to make enquiries."
 
"It's impossible," said Clarice, hardly able to believe that Jane had thus revenged herself on her enemy. "Sir Daniel went up to London by the train."
 
"No, miss, he didn't, begging your pardon. Mrs. Dumps saw him at the gate hesitating, and he really did walk towards the High Street, on his way to the station, may be. But then he changed his mind and went down the lane. She saw him pass, and Jane following him as good as gold. No doubt he walked on to Barnes Common, and there Jane killed him. Oh, ain't it dreadful?" cried Mrs. Rebson, again wringing her wrinkled hands. "The Domestic Prophet never said anything like that."
 
Clarice did not reply. She wondered why Jerce had walked. He must have seen the dog, who hated him, follow. But, perhaps, because Jane limped--the doctor's own work--he did not think that she was dangerous. And it might be that Jerce intended to kill himself in the open instead of in his Harley Street house. But, be this as it may, Jerce was dead, and Jane had killed him. No doubt she had followed persistently¹² all that long way, and, having been left behind, Jerce had sat down to rest. Clarice could picture the grim yellow-eyed dog stealing up in the dark night to the unsuspecting man, seated on some dripping bench on the Common. She could picture the silent spring, the closing of those long, white teeth on Jerce's fat throat. And then the end, with the dead body lying on the soaking ground, and the dog trailing home, weary but satisfied, with blood-stained jaws. Truly, Jerce had not escaped punishment after all, and the gods had brought home his crime to him in a terrible way.
 
"Master Ferdy wants to see you, deary," said Mrs. Rebson, after she had expressed her conviction that Jane would be shot, and had mentioned twice her wonder that a limping dog should have caught up with a smart walker. "I am coming down now," said the girl, quietly, and leaving Mrs. Rebson to shake her head over the wickedness of Jane, she went into the breakfast-room, where Ferdy was impatiently waiting for her. "Clarry, have you heard the news?" he asked, shaking a newspaper. "Don't call me that," said Clarice, coldly. "I have done with you, Ferdinand. You are not worthy¹³ to be my brother."
 
"Don't go on like that, Clarice," said the young man, struck to the heart by the stiff way in which she addressed him. "I'm in such trouble. That Osip will tell the police about my having the stamp, and then I'll be arrested."
 
"You deserve the worst that can befall you, Ferdinand. But Osip----"
 
"He's arrested, and Barras is dead."
 
Clarice sat down. How many more tragedies was she to hear of? Ferdy pointed¹⁴ out a sensational¹⁵ heading in the "Daily Planet." "See Jerce--have you heard, Clarry?--has been killed by Jane, and now Osip has killed Barras. Their crimes have come home to them."
 
"And your crimes ought to come home to you," cried Clarice, feeling sick with Ferdy's egotism. "You are--you are--but I can't say what you are. Your wickedness and weakness are beyond the power of language to express. How did Osip kill Mr. Barras?"
 
Ferdy grew sulky, and apparently¹⁶ regarded himself as a very ill-used person. "Osip went to Barras' office yesterday to get money out of him, and Barras kicked at the idea. Osip then murdered him, and rifled the safe with keys taken from Barras' pocket. He stamped the Purple Fern on Barras' forehead, and was cutting with the money, when someone came into the room. The alarm was given, and Osip fled down the street with everyone after him. A policeman caught him, and now he is in gaol¹⁷. And I dare say he'll give me away," lamented¹⁸ Ferdy, selfishly. "So hard on me, just when everything is settled nicely. Prudence has promised to marry me and--"
 
"Prudence?" cried Clarice, starting to her feet, and throwing down the "Daily Planet" which she was reading. "Does she know what you are?"
 
"Yes," said Ferdy, sulkily, "and she knows that I am not a bad sort either. Her brother was a murderer, so she says that I'm not so bad as he was; and Mr. Clarke thinks the same. But we don't want to stop in Crumel after we are married. Mr. Clarke says he will come with us to Australia. I think I shall like that," ended Ferdy, musingly

Join or Log In! You need to log in to continue reading

Create a new account   I have a account already

	Create an New Account
Email:  (User Name)
Password:	Letters and numbers only. 6-20 characters.
Retype Password:
Screen Name:	Letters and numbers only. 6-50 Characters.
Confirmation Code:	(Please type in the characters in the green image.)

	Login into Your Account
Email:
Password:
	Remember me on this computer.

(Left Keyword <-) Previous: CHAPTER XXV THE WHOLE TRUTH Back Next: No Data (Right Keyword:->)