CHAPTER XXVII
THE SILENT WITNESS
Approaching footsteps were heard, but they were the steps of menmoving slowly and unsteadily, as though carrying some heavy burden.An instant later, six men, bearing a casket beneath whose weightthey staggered, entered the court-room and, making their way throughthe spell-bound crowd, deposited their burden near the witness stand.Immediately following were two men, one of whom was instantlyrecognized as Merrick, the detective; the other as the man who, afew months before, had been known as the English barrister's clerk,now wearing the full uniform of a Scotland Yard official. Bringingup the rear was an undertaker, who, amid the breathless silencewhich ensued, proceeded to open the casket. This done, Mr.Sutherland rose and addressed the judge, his low tones for the firsttime vibrating with suppressed feeling.
"Your honor, I request that William H. Whitney be first called uponto identify the witness."
Controlling his agitation by a visible effort, Mr. Whitney approachedthe casket, but his eyes no sooner rested on the form and featureswithin than his forced composure gave way. With a groan he exclaimed,
"My God, it is Hugh Mainwaring!" and bending over the casket, hecovered his face with his hands while he strove in vain to concealhis emotion.
His words, ringing through the hushed court-room, seemed to breakthe spell, and the over-wrought nerves of the people began to yieldunder the tremendous pressure. Mr. Sutherland raised a warninghand to check the tide of nervous excitement which threatened tosweep over the entire crowd, but it was of little avail. Piercingscreams followed; women fainted and were borne from the room, andthe faces of strong men blanched to a deathly pallor as they gazedat one another in mute consternation and bewilderment. For a fewmoments the greatest confusion reigned, but when at last order wasrestored and Mr. Whitney had regained his composure, Mr. Sutherlandinquired,--
"Mr. Whitney, do you identify the dead man as Hugh Mainwaring?"
"I do."
"But did you not identify as Hugh Mainwaring the man who, at FairOaks, on or about the eighth of July last, came to his death fromthe effect of a gunshot wound?"
"I supposed then, and up until the present time, that it was he;there certainly was a most wonderful resemblance which I am unableto explain or account for, but this, beyond all question, is HughMainwaring."
"Will you state what proof of identification you can give in thisinstance that was not present in the other?"
"Hugh Mainwaring had over the right temple a slight birthmark, ared line extending upward into the hair, not always equally distinct,but always visible to one who had once observed it, and in thisinstance quite noticeable. I saw no trace of this mark on the faceof the murdered man; but as the face was somewhat blackened bypowder about the right temple, I attributed its absence to thatfact, and in the excitement which followed I thought little of it.On the day of the funeral I also noted certain lines in the facewhich seemed unfamiliar, but realizing that death often makes thefeatures of those whom we know best to seem strange to us, Ithought no further of the matter. Now, however, looking upon thisface, I am able to recall several differences, unnoticed then, butall of which go to prove that this is Hugh Mainwaring."
Ralph Mainwaring was the next one summoned for identification.During Mr. Whitney's examination his manner had betrayed intenseagitation, and he now came forward with an expression of mingledincredulity and dread, but upon reaching the casket, he stood likeone petrified, unable to move or speak, while no one who saw himcould ever forget the look of horror which overspread his features.
"Mr. Mainwaring," said Mr. Sutherland at length, "do you know thedead man?"
"It is he," answered Ralph Mainwaring in a low tone, apparentlyspeaking more to himself than to the attorney; "it is HughMainwaring; that was the distinguishing mark between them."
"Do you refer to the mark of which Mr. Whitney has just spoken?"
"Yes."
"What do you mean by designating it as 'the distinguishing markbetween them'?"
Ralph Mainwaring turned from the casket and faced Mr. Sutherland,but his eyes had the strained, far-away look of one gazing into thedistance, unconscious of objects near him.
"It was the mark," he said, speaking with an effort, "by which, whenwe were boys, he was distinguished from his twin brother."
"His twin brother, Harold Scott Mainwaring?" queried the attorney.
"Yes," the other answered, mechanically.
"Do you then identify this as Hugh Mainwaring?"
"Yes; and the other--he must have been--no, no, it could not be--greatGod!" Ralph Mainwaring suddenly reeled and raised his handto his head. Mr. Whitney sprang to his assistance and led him tohis chair, but in those few moments he had aged twenty years.
A number of those most intimately acquainted with Hugh Mainwaringwere then called upon, all of whom identified the dead man as theirlate friend and associate. These preliminaries over, Mr. Sutherlandarose.
"Your honor and gentlemen of the jury, before proceeding with thetestimony to be introduced, I have a brief statement to make. Soonafter the commencement of this action, we came into possession ofindisputable evidence that Hugh Mainwaring, the supposed victim ofthe Fair Oaks tragedy, was still living, and that of whatever crime,if crime there were associated with that fearful event, he was notthe victim but the perpetrator. We determined at all hazards tosecure him, first as a witness in this case, our subsequent actionto be decided by later developments. Through our special detectivewe succeeded in locating him, but he, upon finding himself cornered,supposing he was to be arrested for the murder of his brother,attempted suicide by shooting. The combined skill of the bestsurgeons obtainable, though unable to save him, yet prolonged lifefor three days, long enough to enable two of our number, Mr. Bartonand Mr. Montague, to reach him in season to take his dying statement;a statement not only setting forth the facts relating to the willin question, but embracing also the details of the Fair Oaks tragedyand mystery. This statement, made by Hugh Mainwaring and attestedby numerous witnesses present, will now be read by Mr. Montague."
Amid an impressive silence, Mr. Montague stepped to the side of thecasket and, unfolding a document which he held, read the following:
"I, Hugh Mainwaring, freely and voluntarily and under no duress orcompulsion, make this, my dying statement, not only as a relief tothe mental anguish I have endured for the past few months, but alsoin the hope that I may thereby, in my last hours, help in somedegree to right the wrong which my life of treachery and cowardicehas wrought. To do this, I must go back over twenty-five years ofcrime, and beyond that to the inordinate greed and ambition thatled to crime.
"My brother, Harold Scott Mainwaring, and I were twins, somarvelously alike in form and feature that our parents often haddifficulty to distinguish between us, but utterly unlike indisposition, except that we both possessed a fiery temper and anindomitable will. He was the soul of honor, generous to a fault,loyal-hearted and brave, and he exacted honor and loyalty fromothers. He had no petty ambitions; he cared little for wealth forits own sake, still less for its votaries. I was ambitious; Iloved wealth for the power which it bestowed; I would sacrificeanything for the attainment of that power, and even my boyishyears were tainted with secret envy of my brother, an envy thatgrew with my growth, till, as we reached years of maturity, theconsciousness that he, my senior by only a few hours, was yet totake precedence over me--to possess all that I coveted--becamea thorn in my side whose rankling presence I never for a singlewaking hour forgot; it embittered my enjoyment of the present,my hopes and plans for the future.
"But of this deadly undercurrent flowing far beneath the surfaceneither he nor others dreamed, till, one day, a woman's face--cold,cruel, false, but beautiful, bewitchingly, entrancingly beautiful,--camebetween us, and from that hour all semblance of friendshipwas at an end. With me it was an infatuation; with him it was love,a love ready to make any sacrifice for its idol. So when our fatherthreatened to disinherit and disown either or both of us
, and thefalse, fickle heart of a woman was laid in the balances against theancestral estates, I saw my opportunity for seizing the long covetedprize. We each made his choice; my brother sold his birthright fora mess of pottage; his rights were transferred to me, and myambition was at last gratified.
"Between three and four years later, on the night of Novemberseventeenth, within a few hours preceding his death, my father madea will, revoking the will by which he had disinherited his elderson, and restoring him again to his full right and title to theestate. This was not unexpected to me. Though no words on thesubject had passed between us and my brother's name was nevermentioned, I had realized for more than a year that my father wasgradually relenting towards the son who had ever been his favorite,and on the last day that he was able to leave his room, I had comeupon him unaware in the old picture gallery, standing before theportrait of his elder son, silent and stern, but with the tearscoursing down his pallid cheeks. When, therefore, on the nightpreceding his death, my father demanded that an attorney besummoned, my feelings can be imagined. Just as the prize which Ihad so long regarded as mine was almost within my grasp, should Ipermit it to elude me for the gratification of a dying man's whim?Never! In my rage I could have throttled him then and there withouta qualm; fear of the law alone held me back. I tried to dissuadehim, but it was useless. I then bribed the servant sent to bringthe attorney to report that he was out of town, and when thatproved of no avail, I sent for Richard Hobson, a penniless shyster,whose lack of means and lack of principle I believed would renderhim an easy tool in my hands. He came; I was waiting to receivehim, and we entered into compact, I little dreaming I was settingloose on my track a veritable hell-hound! The will was drawn andexecuted, Hobson and one Alexander McPherson, an old friend of myfather's, signing as witnesses. Within twenty-four hours of itsexecution, Richard Hobson was richer by several hundred pounds, andthe will was in my possession. Two days later, I had a falsetelegram sent to our place, summoning McPherson to his home inScotland. He left at once, before my father's burial, and his death,which occurred a few weeks later, removed the last obstacle in theway of carrying my plans into execution. My brother at that timewas in Australia, but in what part of the country I did not know,nor did I try to ascertain. My constant fear was that he might insome way--though by what means I could not imagine--get someknowledge of the will and return to set up a claim to the estate.As soon as possible, therefore, notwithstanding the protests ofmy attorneys, I sold the estate and came to America.
"Concerning the years that followed, it is needless to go intodetail; they brought me wealth, influence, power, all that I hadcraved, but little of happiness. Even when there came tidings ofmy brother's death at sea, and I felt that at last my title tothe estate was secure, I had little enjoyment in its possession.Richard Hobson had already begun his black-mailing schemes, hisdemands growing more frequent and exorbitant with each succeedingyear. Through him, also, the woman who had wrecked my brother'slife received some inkling of my secret, and through this knowledge,slight as it was, gained enough of a hold over me that life wasbecoming an intolerable burden. Through all these years, however,I kept the will in my possession. Even after hearing of the deathof my brother, a cowardly, half-superstitious dread kept me fromdestroying it, though doubtless I would have done so soon aftermaking my own will had I not been prevented by circumstancesunforeseen, which I will now state.
"The events which I am about to relate are stamped upon my brainas though by fire; they have haunted me day and night for the pastfive months. On the seventh of July last, I made and executed mywill in favor of my namesake, Hugh Mainwaring, and on the followingday--his birthday and mine--he was to be declared my heir. Itwas past eleven o'clock on the night of that day when I retired tomy private library, and it was fully an hour later when, havingdismissed my secretary, I finally found myself alone, as I supposed,for the night. My thoughts were far from pleasant. I had just hada stormy interview with my housekeeper, Mrs. LaGrange, who hadtried, as on previous occasions, to coerce me by threats into aprivate marriage and a public recognition of her as my wife and ofher child and mine; and, in addition, the occurrences of the dayhad been of a nature to recall the past, and events which I usuallysought to bury in oblivion were passing before my mental visiondespite my efforts to banish them. Suddenly a voice which seemedlike an echo of the past recalled me to the present. Somewhatstartled, I turned quickly, confronting a man who had enteredunperceived from the tower-room. He was my own height and size,with curling black hair and heavy mustache, but I was unable todistinguish his features as he remained standing partly in theshadow. Before I could recover from my surprise, he again spoke,his voice still vaguely familiar.
"'The master of Fair Oaks'--the words were spoken with stingingemphasis--'seems depressed on the eve of his festal day, the dayon which he is to name the heir and successor to his vast estates!'
"I remembered that a stranger had called that day during my absence,who, my secretary had informed me, bad shown a surprising familiaritywith my private plans.
"'I think,' I replied, coldly, 'that you favored me with a callthis afternoon, but whatever your business then or now, you willhave to defer it for a few days. I do not know how you gainedadmittance to these apartments at this hour, but I will see thatyou are escorted from them without delay,' and as I spoke I roseto ring for a servant.
"He anticipated my intention, however, and with the agility of apanther sprang noiselessly across the room, intercepting me, atthe same time raising a large, English bull-dog revolver, whichhe levelled at me.
"'Not so fast, not so fast,' he said, softly; 'you can afford towait a little; I have waited for years!'
"I stood as though rooted to the spot, gazing at him with a sortof fascination. As he emerged into the light there was somethingalmost familiar in his features, and yet something horriblyincongruous and unreal. His eyes glowed like living fire; his soft,low tones reminded me of nothing so much as the purring of a tiger;while the smile that played about his lips was more terrible thananything I had ever seen on human face. It was ten times morefearful than the muzzle of the revolver confronting me, and seemedto freeze the very blood in my veins.
"'You take a base advantage; I am unarmed," I sneered.
"'I knew too well with whom I had to deal to come unarmed,' hereplied; 'though this,' and he lowered the revolver, 'this is notthe sort of weapon you would employ,--a thrust in the dark, a stabin the back, that is your style, coward!"
"'I demand an explanation of this,' I said.
"He folded his arms, still retaining his hold upon the weapon, ashe answered, 'Explanations will follow in due time; but surely, onthe eve of the fiftieth anniversary of such a life as yours,congratulations are first in order. Allow me to congratulate you,Hugh Mainwaring, upon the success which has attended and crownedthe past twenty-five years of your life! upon the rich harvestyou have reaped during all these years; the amassed wealth, thegratified ambitions, the almost illimitable power, the adulationand homage,--all so precious to your sordid soul, and for whichyou have bartered honor, happiness, character, all, in short, thatlife is worth. Standing, as you do to-night, at the fiftiethmilestone on life's journey, I congratulate you upon yourrecollections of the past, and upon your anticipations for thefuture, as you descend to an unhonored and unloved old age!'
"Every word was heaped with scorn, and, as I looked into the burningeyes fixed upon mine and watched the sardonic smile hovering abouthis lips, I wondered whether he were some Mephistopheles--somefiend incarnate--sent to torture me, or whether he were reallyflesh and blood.
"The mocking smile now left his face, but his eyes held me speechlessas he continued,--
"'No wonder that memories of bygone years haunted your thoughtsto-night! Memories, perhaps, of a father whose dying will youdisregarded; of a brother whom you twice defrauded,--once of thehonor and sanctity of his home, then, as if that were not enough,of his birthright,--his heritage from generations of our
race--'
"'Stop!' I cried, stung to anger by his accusations and startledby the strange words, 'our race,' which seemed to fall so familiarlyfrom his lips. 'Stop! are you mad?" Do you know what you aresaying? Once more I demand that you state who or what you are, andyour business here!'
"'That is quickly stated, Hugh Mainwaring,' he answered, in toneswhich made my heart beat with a strange dread; 'I am Harold ScottMainwaring! I am here to claim no brotherhood or kinship with you,but to claim and to have my own, the birthright restored to me bythe last will and testament of a dying father, of which you havedefrauded me for twenty-five years!"
"'You are a liar and an impostor!' I cried, enraged at the sound ofmy brother's name, and for the instant believing the man to be someemissary of Hobson's who had used it to work upon my feelings.
"Drawing himself up to his full height, his eyes blazing, he answeredin low tones, 'Dare you apply those epithets to me, usurper that youare? You are a liar and a thief, and if you had your deserts youwould be in a felon's cell to-night, or transported to the wilds ofAustralia! I an impostor? See and judge for yourself!' and with asudden, swift movement the black curling hair and mustache weredashed to the floor, and he stood before me the exact counterpartof myself. Stunned by the transformation, I gazed at him speechless;it was like looking in a mirror, feature for feature identically thesame! For a few seconds my brain seemed to reel from the shock, buthis tones recalled me to myself.
"'Ah!' he said, with mocking emphasis, 'who is the impostor now?'
"My first thought was of self-vindication, and to effect, ifpossible, a compromise with him. 'I am no impostor or usurper,' Isaid, 'because, believing you dead, I have used that to which inthe event of your death I would be legally entitled even had youany claim, and I am willing, not as an acknowledgment of any validclaim on your part, but as a concession on my own part, to give youa liberal share in the estate, or to pay you any reasonable sumwhich you may require--
"He stopped me with an intolerant gesture. 'Do not attempt anypalliation of the past with me,' he said, sternly; 'it is worsethan useless; and do not think that you can make any compromiseswith me or purchase my silence with your ill-gotten wealth. Thatmay have served your purpose in the past with your associate andcoadjutor, Richard Hobson, the man who holds in his mercenarygrasp the flimsy reputation which is all that is left to you, orwith the woman--cruel as the grave and false as hell--who oncewrecked my life, and now, with the son that you dare notacknowledge, rules your home, but you cannot buy my silence. Icome to you as no beggar! I am a richer man to-day than you, butfor the sake of generations past, as well as of generations yet tocome, I will have my own. The estate which was once my forefathersshall be my son's, and his sons' after him!'
"As I listened, my whole soul rose against him in bitter hatred,the old hatred of my youth. 'I defy you,' I' cried, hotly, 'toproduce one atom of proof in support of your claim or of yourcharges against me! The estate is mine, and I will make you ruethe day that you dare dispute my right and title to it!'
"His eyes flashed with scorn as he replied, 'You lie, HughMainwaring! Your life for the past twenty-five years has beennothing but a lie, and the day just closed has witnessed the finalact in this farce of yours. That I have already undone, and justas surely I will undo the work of the past years. And let me assureyou I have no lack of proof with which to verify either my ownclaim or any assertion I have made, or may yet make, against you.I have proof that on the night preceding my father's death he madea will restoring to me my full rights, which you have fraudulentlywithheld all these years; and through my son, whom you have knownfor the past eighteen months as your private secretary, I have proofthat that will is still in existence, of itself an irrefutablewitness against you!'
"With the mention of my secretary the truth flashed upon me. Irealized I was completely in his power, and with a sense of myown impotency my rage and hatred increased. Forgetful of the weaponin his hand and almost blind with fury, I sprang towards him,intending to throttle him--to strangle him--until he should pleadfor mercy. Instantly he raised the revolver in warning, but notbefore I had seized his wrist, turning the weapon from myself. Abrief struggle followed, in which I soon found my strength was nomatch for his. Growing desperate, I summoned all my strength forone tremendous effort, at the same time holding his wrist in avice-like grip, forcing his hand higher and turning the revolvermore and more in his direction. Suddenly there was a flash,--asharp report,--and he fell heavily to the floor, dragging me downupon him.
"For an instant I was too much stunned and bewildered to realizewhat had happened, but a glance at my opponent revealed thesituation. He lay motionless where he had fallen, and a ghastlywound over the right eye told the terrible story. Dazed withhorror, I placed my hand over his heart, but there was no motion,no life,--he was dead! The awful truth forced itself upon me.Mad and blind with rage, I had turned the weapon upon him and it haddischarged,--whether by some sudden movement of his hand, or bythe accidental pressure of my own fingers upon the trigger, Godalone knows, I do not! One fact I could not then, nor ever can,forget; it was my hand that gave the weapon its deadly aim, howeverblindly or unwittingly, and the blood of my brother whom I hadwronged and defrauded now lay at my door.
"The agony of remorse that followed was something beyond description,beyond any suffering of which I had ever dreamed; but suddenly athought flashed upon me which added new horror, causing me to springto my feet cold with terror, while great beads of perspirationgathered on my brow. When that terrible scene should be revealed,not alone in the approaching morning light, but in the light of pastevents which, if the last words spoken by those lips now sealed indeath were true, could no longer be kept secret, what would be theworld's verdict?" Murder! fratricide! and I? Great God! of whatavail would be any plea of mine in the face of such damning evidence?
"I rushed to the tower-room, and hastily opening my safe, took froma private drawer therein a key and with trembling fingers fitted itinto the lock of a large metallic box which contained the familyjewels, and which for more than twenty-five years had held the oldwill executed by my father on his death-bed. I had seen it thereless than forty-eight hours before, and in my desperation I nowdetermined to destroy it. My very haste and eagerness delayed me,but at last the cover flew back, revealing the gleaming jewels,but--the will was not there! Unable to believe my own eyes, Idrew my fingers carefully back and forth through the narrowreceptacle where it had lain, and among the satin linings of thevarious compartments, but in vain; the will was gone! My brotherhad spoken the truth, and the will was doubtless in the possessionof his son, who, under its terms, was now himself heir to theestate. The room grew dim and the walls themselves seemed to whirlswiftly about me as, with great difficulty, I groped my way back tothe library, where I stood gazing at that strange counterpart ofmyself, till, under the growing horror of the situation, it seemedto my benumbed senses as though I were some disembodied spirithovering above his own corpse. The horrible illusion was like anightmare; I could not throw it off, and I would then and therehave gone stark, staring mad, but that there came to me out of thatawful chaos of fancies a suggestion which seemed like an inspiration.'It is Hugh Mainwaring,' I said to myself, 'Hugh Mainwaring diedto-night!'
"My fevered brain grew cool, my pulse steady, and my nerves firmas I proceeded at once to act upon the idea. Kneeling beside thedead man, I examined the wound. The bullet had entered above theright eye and passed downward, coming out at the base of the brain;from both wounds the blood was flowing in a slow, sluggish stream.Drawing a large handkerchief from my pocket, I bound it tightlyabout the head over both wounds, knotting it firmly; then carryingthe body into the tower-room, I made sure that all doors werelocked, and proceeded to put into execution the plan so suddenlyformed. By this time I was myself, and, though the task before mewas neither easy nor pleasant to perform, I went about it ascalmly and methodically as though it were some ordinary businesstransaction. As expediti
ously as possible I removed the dead man'sclothing and my own, which I then exchanged, dressing the lifelessform in the clothes I had worn on the preceding day, even to thedressing-gown which I had put on upon retiring to my apartments,while I donned his somewhat travel-worn suit of tweed. Havingcompleted this gruesome task, I left the body in much the sameposition in which it had originally fallen, lying slightly uponthe right side, the right arm extended on the floor, and, to givethe appearance of suicide, I placed my own revolver--firstemptying one of the chambers--near his right hand. On going tomy desk for the revolver, I discovered the explanation of mybrother's words when he said that he had already undone my workof the preceding day, the final act of the farce I had carriedout. In the terrible excitement of those moments his meaningescaped my mind; now it was clear. My own will, executed withsuch care, and which early in the evening I had left upon my desk,was gone. That he had destroyed it in his wrath and scorn I hadabundant proof a little later, upon incidentally finding in thesmall grate in that room the partially burned fragments of thedocument, which I left to tell their own tale.
"Having satisfactorily disposed of Hugh Mainwaring (as the deadman now seemed to my over-wrought imagination), I made preparationfor my immediate departure. This occupied little time. There wasfortunately some cash in the safe, which I took; all drafts andpapers of that nature I left,--they were of value only to HughMainwaring, and he was dead! As the cash would be inadequate,however, for my needs, I decided after considerable deliberationto take the family jewels, though not without apprehension thatthey might lead to my detection, as they finally did. These I putin a small box covered with ordinary wrapping-paper to attract aslittle attention as possible,' and, having completed my preparations,I removed the bandage from the dead man's head and threw it with theprivate keys to my library into the metallic box which had held thejewels. Then donning the black wig and mustache which my visitorhad thrown aside on disclosing his identity, together with a longulster which he had left in the tower-room, I took one farewelllook at the familiar apartments and their silent occupant and stolenoiselessly out into the night. I remained on the premises onlylong enough to visit the small lake in the rear of the house, intowhich I threw the metallic box and its contents, then, followingthe walk through the grove to the side street, I left Fair Oaks, asI well knew, forever. While yet on the grounds I met my owncoachman, but he failed to recognize me in my disguise. My planswere already formed. I had come to the conclusion that my latevisitor and the caller of the preceding afternoon, whose card borethe name of J. Henry Carruthers, were one and the same. My secretaryhad stated that Carruthers had come out from the city that day, somy appearance at the depot, dressed in his own disguise, wouldprobably attract no attention. I was fortunate enough to reach thedepot just as two trains were about to pull out; the suburban trainwhich would leave in three minutes for the city, and the north-boundexpress, due to leave five minutes later. I bought a ticket for NewYork, then passing around the rear of the suburban train, quietlyboarded the express, and before the discovery of that night'sfearful tragedy I was speeding towards the great West.
"But go where I might, from that hour to this, I have never beenfree from agonizing remorse, nor have I been able for one momentto banish from my memory the sight of that face,--the face of mybrother, killed by my own hand, and a discovery which I madewithin the first few hours of my flight made my remorse ten timesdeeper. In going through the pockets of the suit I wore I founda letter from my brother, addressed to his son, written in my ownlibrary and at my own desk while he awaited my coming. He seemedto have had a sort of presentiment that his interview with me mightend in some such tragedy as it did, and took that opportunity toinform his son regarding both his past work and his plans for thefuture. What was my astonishment to find that his son was, atthat time, as totally unaware of his father's existence as was Ia few hours before of the existence of a brother!
"From this letter I learned that the son had been given away atbirth, and was to know nothing of his true parentage until he hadreached years of maturity; that he himself had been shipwrecked, asreported years ago, but had escaped in some miraculous manner; thatreaching Africa at last, he disclosed his identity to no one, butdevoted all his energies to acquiring a fortune for his son. Hesucceeded even beyond his anticipations, and when nearly twentyyears had elapsed, sailed for his old Australian home, to find hisson. Arriving there, he learned that his son, while pursuing hisstudies in England, had obtained information of the will made inhis father's favor, and learning facts which led him to believe thatthe will was still in existence and in the possession of his father'syounger brother, had, with the advice of his London attorneys, goneto America, and was then in his uncle's employ for the purpose ofsecuring proof regarding the will, and, if possible, possession ofthe will itself. Upon learning these facts, my brother hadimmediately proceeded to London and to Barton & Barton, his son'sattorneys, who, upon his arrival there, informed him of his son'ssuccess up to that time, and also notified him that his brother wasabout to celebrate his approaching fiftieth birthday by naming theson of Ralph Mainwaring as his heir, Ralph Mainwaring and familyhaving just sailed to America for that purpose. My brother thentook the first steamer for America, arriving only two days laterthan Ralph Mainwaring. Though unable to obtain an interview withme at once, as he had intended, he had succeeded in catching sightof me, in order to assure himself that the marked resemblancebetween us still existed, and, to emphasize that resemblance, hethen shaved and had his hair cut in the same style in which I woremine, so as to render the likeness the more striking andindisputable when he should announce himself to me.
"His existence and return he wished kept secret from his son untilthe successful consummation of his plans, but he wrote the letteras an explanation in case there should be any unforeseentermination. The letter was overflowing with a father's love andpride; his allusion to the difficulty with which he had restrainedhis feelings when he found himself face to face with his son on theafternoon of his call, being especially touching. The perusal ofthat letter added a hundred-fold to my own grief and remorse. Idared not run the risk of disclosing myself by sending it to mybrother's son, but I have preserved it carefully for him, and desireit to be given him as quickly as possible.
"Through New York papers I learned from time to time of the murderof Hugh Mainwaring, the lost will, the discovery of the old will,and the appearance of the rightful heir. From that source, also, Ilearned that Merrick, the detective, was shadowing the murderer,who was generally supposed to be a man by the name of Carruthers.I had one advantage of Merrick. I knew him--my old friend Whitneyhaving often pointed him out to me--while he did not know the manhe sought. Many a time in my wanderings I have seen him, and,knowing well the game he was after, eluded him, only to fall atlast into the snare of one whom I did not know. The man searchingfor the murderer of Hugh Mainwaring encountered another, trailingthe murderer of Harold Scott Mainwaring, and I suddenly found mytime had come! A coward then, as always, I tried to shoot myself.In the darkness I held the muzzle of my brother's revolver to myown temple; instantly there flashed before me his face when I hadkilled him! I grew sick, my hand trembled and dropped; then, asmy pursuers came nearer, I aimed for my heart and fired! This isthe result. Death was not instantaneous, as I had hoped; instead,I was given this opportunity to make some slight reparation for mysin; to aid, as I said before, in righting the wrong wrought by mypast life.
"And now, in these my last moments, I do solemnly affirm and averthat on the night preceding his death, my father executed a willrestoring to my elder brother his full right and title, which willI have for more than twenty-five years last past wrongfully andfraudulently withheld and concealed; and that my brother being nowdead, killed by my own hand, though unwittingly and unintentionally,his son, Harold Scott Mainwaring, is the rightful and sole heirto the entire Mainwaring estate.
"Signed by Hugh Mainwaring in the presence of the followingwitnesses: William J. Ba
rton, M. D. Montague, Joseph P. Sturgiss,M.D., M. J. Wheating, M.D., Daniel McCabe and C. D. Merrick."
At the conclusion of this statement, there was shown in evidencethe rusty metallic box-dragged from the lake--with the keys andthe knotted, blood-stained handkerchief found therein. This wasfollowed by brief testimony by Harold Scott Mainwaring and theold servant, James Wilson, but the proceedings following thereading of the statement were little more than mere form. Therewas little attempt at cross-examination, and when the time came forthe argument by counsel for contestant, Mr. Whitney, who had beendeeply affected by the confession of his old friend, declined tospeak.
All eyes were fastened upon Mr. Sutherland as he arose, as wassupposed, for the closing argument. For a moment his eyes scannedthe faces of the jurors, man by man, then addressing the judge, hesaid slowly, in clear, resonant tones,--
"Your honor, I submit the case without argument."
In less than forty-five minutes from the conclusion of the statementthe jury retired, but no one moved from his place in the crowdedcourt-room, for all felt that little time would be required for theirdecision. In ten minutes they returned, and, amid the silence thatfollowed, the foreman announced the verdict, "for the proponent,Harold Scott Mainwaring."
Cheers burst forth from all parts of the room, and the walls rangwith applause, which was only checked by a sudden, simultaneousmovement of several men towards the contestant. With theannouncement of the verdict, Ralph Mainwaring had risen to his feet,as though in protest. For an instant he stood gasping helplessly,but unable to utter a word; then, with a loud groan, he sankbackward and would have fallen to the floor but for his attorneys,who had rushed to the assistance of the stricken man.
A few moments later the lifeless remains of Hugh Mainwaring werecarried from the court-room, while, in another direction, theunconscious form of Ralph Mainwaring was borne by tender, pityinghands, among them those of the victor himself, and the contest ofMainwaring versus Mainwaring was ended.
* * * * * * * * *
The bright sunlight of a December afternoon, ten days after theclose of the trial, crowned with a shining halo the heads ofHarold Scott Mainwaring and his wife as they stood together in thetower-room at Fair Oaks. But a few hours had elapsed since theyhad repeated the words of the beautiful marriage service which hadmade them husband and wife. Their wedding had been, of necessity,a quiet one, only their own party and a few of their Americanfriends being present, for the ocean-liner, then lying in theharbor, but which in a few hours was to bear them homeward, wouldcarry also the bodies of the Mainwaring brothers and of RalphMainwaring to their last resting place.
Here, amid the very surroundings where it was written, HaroldMainwaring had just read to his wife his father's letter, penned afew hours before his death. For a few moments neither spoke, thenWinifred said brokenly, through fast falling tears,--
"How he loved you, Harold!"
"Yes," he replied, sadly; "and what would I not give for one hourin which to assure him of my love! I would gladly have endured anysuffering for his sake, but in the few moments that we stood faceto face we met as strangers, and I have had no opportunity to showhim my appreciation of his love or my love for him in return."
"Don't think he does not know it," she said, earnestly. "I believethat he now knows your love for him far more perfectly than youknow his."
He kissed her tenderly, then drawing from his pocket amemorandum-book, took therefrom a piece of blotter having upon itthe impress of some writing. Placing it upon the desk beside theletter, he held a small mirror against it, and Winifred, lookingin the mirror, read,
"Your affectionate father, "HAROLD SCOTT MAINWARING."
Then glancing at the signature to the letter, she saw they wereidentical. In answer to her look of inquiry, Harold said,--
"I discovered that impress on the blotter on this desk one morningabout ten days after the tragedy, and at once recognized it as myfather's writing. In a flash I understood the situation; my fatherhimself had returned, had been in these rooms, and had had aninterview with his brother! I knew of the marked resemblance betweenthem, and at once questioned, How had that interview ended? Who wasthe murdered man? Who was the murderer? That was the cause of mytrip to England to try to find some light on this subject. I needno words to tell you the agony of suspense that I endured for thenext few weeks, and you will understand now why I would not--evento yourself--declare my innocence of the murder of Hugh Mainwaring.I would have bourne any ignominy and dishonor, even death itself,rather than that a breath of suspicion should have been directedagainst my father's name."
"My hero!" she exclaimed, smiling through her tears; then asked,"When and how did you learn the real facts?"
"Almost immediately upon my return to this country, and from Mrs.LaGrange," and he told her briefly of his last interview with thatunhappy woman. "Up to the day of the funeral, she was ignorant ofthe truth, but on that day she detected the difference, which noneof the others saw. She knew and recognized my father."
Standing at last on the western veranda, they took their farewellof Fair Oaks.
"Beautiful Fair Oaks!" Winifred murmured; "once I loved you; butyou could never be our home; you hold memories far too bitter!"
"Yes," Harold replied, gravely, "it is darkened by crime and stainedwith innocent blood. The only bright feature to redeem it," headded with a smile, "is the memory of the love I found there, butthat," and he drew her arm closely within his own, "I take with meto England, to my father's home and mine."
Together they left the majestic arched portals, and going down theoak-lined avenue, through the dim twilight of the great boughsinterlocked above their heads, passed on, out into the sunlight,with never a fear for shadows that might come; each strong andconfident in the love that united them "for better for worse, forricher for poorer, in sickness and in health, . . . till death usdo part."
That Mainwaring Affair Page 27
