Helen Vardon's confession
fastened to the peg--a set of preparations, the only intelligible
object of which seems to be the concealment of the real cause of
death. And then there is a further series of preparations revealed by
the anonymous letters. These we now have reason to believe were
written and sent by Morris Goldstein. Our reason for connecting Mrs.
Otway with those letters was based on Rachel Goldstein’s statement
that no one was in the house at Maidstone but Mrs. Otway, and her
husband and father. But we can no longer accept that statement. The
suggested probability is that she was in the house, and that she
either saw, or heard enough to gather what had taken place. In that
case we seem to detect a carefully-laid plan to procure the suicide of
the deceased, and throw suspicion on his wife; and when the suicide
failed to occur, the alternative of poison would seem to have been
adopted.
“I must draw your attention to the circumstances existing at the time
of the tragedy. In deceased’s chambers were precious stones to the
value of over four thousand pounds. Possibly there were stolen gems of
a somewhat greater aggregate value. It is highly probable that Rachel
Goldstein knew of the deceased’s letter to his wife, for as he was
bed-ridden at the time, the letter would have been posted by her, and
could easily have been opened and read. The time of the interview was
arranged by her so that Mrs. Otway should be the last visitor.
“Here then is a group of circumstances furnishing a perfect
opportunity for the carrying out of the plan. The gems were within
reach, and a visitor was expected on whom could be thrown the
suspicion of the theft, and the responsibility of the apparent
suicide.
“As to the motive, apart from the theft of the gems, we must remember
that here was an illegitimate Jewish family into which had been
introduced a legitimate Gentile wife. Her arrival had affected the
interests of the family injuriously, and if a reconciliation between
husband and wife should have occurred, those interests would have been
still more unfavourably affected.
“But we are not called on to go deeply into the question of motive.
This is a coroner’s inquest, and our business is to decide how and by
what means deceased met with his death. That decision is with you,
gentlemen. You have heard the evidence, and I shall now leave you to
consider your verdict.”
As the coroner ceased speaking, and silence fell upon the court I
allowed myself, for the first time, to think of my own position.
Previously I had not dared; for when Dr. Thorndyke had made his
dramatic statement, the revulsion of feeling had been so great that I
had much ado to restrain myself from bursting into hysterical tears or
laughter. But now I was more calm, and could think upon the change
that a few magic words had wrought in my condition. I was free--free
in body and soul. My imagined guilt had been a delusion; the silent
willing and suggestion, a myth. I had never had any conscious
intention to procure Lewis Otway’s suicide; and no suicide had been
procured. The death of that wretched man--my evil genius--had been
brought about by no act of mine, conscious or unconscious. I was
guiltless, I was free.
The jury took but a short time to consider their verdict. In a few
minutes the foreman intimated that they had come to a unanimous
decision. The coroner then formally put the question.
“Have you considered the evidence, gentlemen, and are you agreed upon
your verdict?”
“We are,” replied the foreman. “Our verdict is that the deceased,
Lewis Otway, met his death as the result of a poisonous dose of
nicotine administered to him by Rachel Goldstein.”
“Do you say that the poison was administered inadvertently or with
malice?”
The foreman consulted his colleagues, and then replied, “With malice.”
“That,” said the coroner, “amounts to a verdict of wilful murder
against Rachel Goldstein; and I may say that I am entirely in
agreement with you.”
As the coroner concluded, I looked at Mrs. Gregg. Her face was set,
and had turned a horrible, livid grey. Presently she rose slowly from
her chair, and looked furtively over her shoulder; and as she did so
she looked into the face of Superintendent Miller.
Epilogue
The history that I have set forth in the foregoing pages is the
history of an episode. That episode opened with instantaneous
abruptness; and in an instant it came to an abrupt end. The fatal
words that I had overheard in my father’s house had been as an
incantation that had cast over me a malign spell. In the moment in
which they were spoken the sinister shadow of Lewis Otway had fallen
upon my life; and in the long months that followed it had never
lifted. Even the death of the unhappy wizard had left the spell still
working, the shadow deepening from hour to hour, until Dr. Thorndyke,
like a benevolent magician, had spoken the counter-charm. Then, in an
instant, the spell was broken; the shadow lifted and lifted for ever.
And with the breaking of the spell and the lifting of the shadow, the
episode is at an end, and my tale is told. Yet I am loth to lay down
my pen until the reader who has followed my pilgrimage through the
valley of the shadow has been given at least one glimpse of me
straying in the sunshine, “along the meads of asphodel.” I would crave
his attendance at the sombre, old church of St. Clement Danes, where,
on a bright May morning, was spoken another incantation that opened to
four faithful hearts the gates of a Paradise of life-long happiness
and love. I would bid him admire sweet Peggy, tripping forth, all
smiles and blushes, beside her stalwart husband to foregather with
Jasper and me and our friends from Wellclose Square and the Temple in
the ancient rooms in Clifford’s Inn.
But my tale is told. The curtain is rung down; and I may not linger
before it, babbling over the extinguished footlights on an empty
stage--perchance to an empty house.
THE END
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
This edition was published in 1922.
Minor spelling inconsistencies (e.g. attaché-case/attaché case,
clockwise/clock-wise, unmistakeable/unmistakable, etc.) have been
preserved.
Alterations to the text:
Punctuation: fix some quotation mark pairings/nestings, and some
missing periods and commas.
[Prologue]
Change “will make a wig--should I _die_ it and hush up its treason?” to
_dye_.
[Chapter I]
“with _so_ sign of life or movement save the tumultuous thumping” to
_no_.
(“There is just one way for you out of this mess, Vardon,”) change the
last comma to a period.
(“Do!” repeated Mr. Otway. “What can I do. As a trustee,…) change
the period after _do_ to a question mark.
(would rather go to gaol than connive at the sacrifice of my
daughter’s _unhappiness_.”) to _happiness_.
[Chapter II]
(how could I entertain… “certain conceivable alternatives.”) change
the period to a question mark.
(“Yes,” he replied, after a brief pause, “it was Mr. _Oway_. to
_Otway_.
[Chapter III]
“not that I am suspecting you of trying to evade _fufilment_.” to
_fulfilment_.
“will probably continue to refuse. so that one would rather” change
the period to a comma.
“He shook my hand in a drily, courteous fashion” delete the comma.
[Chapter IV]
“But they never had been, The necessary refracting medium” change the
comma to a period.
[Chapter V]
“What do you say to a few _fays_ in London?” to _days_.
[Chapter VI]
“escape or protest against the most repulsive _familarities_” to
_familiarities_.
(“Do you mean to say,” my father demanded, “that the marriage has
actually taken place.”) change the period to a question mark.
(“I _haven’s_ seen it myself, yet. The morning’s correspondence) to
_haven’t_.
[Chapter VIII]
“seen my father’s _latter_ and deliberately left it unopened” to
_letter_.
(“Have you been able to give any more consideration to my proposal,
Helen.”) change the period to a question mark.
“approaching with a _defferential_ and rather uncomfortable air” to
_deferential_.
[Chapter IX]
“it must _evitably_ lay bare the real nature of the transaction” to
_inevitably_.
(“Naturally. But you would say that the fainting attack preceded the
blow on the head.”) change the last period to a question mark.
[Chapter XI]
“Dr. Thorndyke had admitted that the neighbourhood was _squali d_” to
_squalid_.
[Chapter XII]
“What did this portend. To Mr. Jackson it meant no more” change the
period to a question mark.
[Chapter XIII]
“had suddenly become transformed into the mystic--; wide-eyed, dreamy,
yet intense.” delete the semicolon and following space.
(great things of life,” she said in low, earnest, tones.) delete the
last comma.
“I have been fearful of intruding on your strongly individual,
self-contained, personality.” delete the last comma.
[Chapter XIV]
“he conceived the _briliant_ idea of making over his kingdom” to
_brilliant_.
“I gave that _maw_ worm ten guineas for it” to _mean_.
[Chapter XV]
“recalling, but not imitating, the works of Burne Jones and _Rosetti_”
to _Rossetti_.
“work on the easel was a similar drawing of a _freize-like_ character”
to _frieze-like_.
Hyphenate “U P E A S F,” “U P S A S F,” “J A E P E F,” and
“J A S E S F.”
(… picture of some event that is going to take place in the near
future,”) change the comma to a period.
[Chapter XVI]
“he would probably have been _con-considerably_ startled” to
_considerably_.
“And the question is, what cards does that person hold. Is he acting
on a mere guess or has he any actual knowledge.” change both periods
to question marks.
[Chapter XVII]
“show-cases which had been set up for the occasion were _surrrounded_”
to _surrounded_.
“what is Miss Finch going to do with that _bieu_ de roi vase?” to
_bleu_.
“I shall call you Miss Vardon, unless you let me call you, Helen” delete
the second comma.
“the two roisterers who had just emerged from a _handsom-cab_” to
_hansom-cab_.
(“I shan’t _wan’t_ to sell it,” she said. “If it is good) to _want_.
[Chapter XVIII]
“just a pair of walnut _slab_ hinged together, the lower slab having”
to _slabs_.
“said Mr. Campbell, pulling a face _pf_ proportionate length” to
_of_.
“it would be a sin to put those spoons _unto_ a velvet-lined case” to
_into_.
(… and while he lives I can contract no other marriage,”) change
the comma to a period.
“that his separation of the things that really mattered from those
that were trivial and inessential _and_ true and just.” to _was_.
[Chapter XIX]
“I had looked for a rather dull, social call flavoured with
porcelain.” delete the comma.
“resembled a solemn and unspeakably dull, drawing-room game” delete
the comma.
“… so you, needn’t mind asking me anything that you want to know.”)
delete the comma.
[Chapter XX]
“not much interested in anything connected with with my daily life”
delete one _with_.
“I had endeavoured to revive my _enthusiam_ for my work” to
_enthusiasm_.
“worked in _repousé_ with enrichments in enamel” to _repoussé_.
“and _he_ man from the office downstairs looks in sometimes” to _the_.
“well-beloved name, painted in white _l tters_” to _letters_.
“I entered and was confronted by a somewhat unkempt, young man” delete
the comma.
“But life is before us, and mine shall be one, long thanksgiving”
delete the second comma.
[Chapter XXI]
“at least give _the_ the comfort of your sympathy” to _me_.
Change:
I viewed him as the insurance director views interested in his
decease, not in his survival. I loathed him, the generalised
“proposer,”--but inversely; for I was but I did not hate him.
to:
I viewed him as the insurance director views the generalised
“proposer,”--but inversely; for I was interested in his decease,