A Mysterious Disappearance Part 45

"Are you positive of this?"

"Undoubtedly. Is it a matter of importance? Gwen, you know all about it.

Besides, the bills for your new furniture will show the exact date of delivery, and it was the same day."

Mrs. Hillmer's face was hidden by her veil, but she nodded silently.

Three people in the room knew the significance of Mensmore's straightforward words; he alone was unaware of the direction towards which the investigation now tended.

"Let us a.n.a.lyze the matter carefully," said Bruce, who had recovered his self-possession, though he was almost terrified at the possibilities of the situation. "Did the whole of the contents of your drawing-room come from your sister's flat?"

"Every stick. There was nothing there before but the bare boards."

"Do you remember a handsome ornamental fender being among these articles?"

"Perfectly. My housekeeper said the men broke it during the transit.

They denied this, and looked for the piece chipped off, but could not find it. She told me about it that night."

"Did you mention it to Mrs. Hillmer?"

"No. To tell the honest truth, Gwen and I had quarrelled a couple of days before. That is to say, we disagreed seriously about a certain matter, and it was this which led to my making off to Monte Carlo.

Therefore it was hardly likely I should mention such a trivial matter to her."

"May I ask what you quarrelled about?"

"I have told her since that it ought to be made known, but she has implored me not to reveal it, so I cannot. But she will tell you herself that we agreed I should be at liberty to make this guarded explanation."

Bruce and the detective exchanged glances of wondering comprehension.

"I do not think we need question Mr. Mensmore further," said the barrister to White.

"No," was the reply. "The matter is clear enough. Mrs. Hillmer must tell us how that furniture came to be transferred from her premises on the morning of the 7th."

"If she chooses."

The barrister's tone was sad, and its ominous significance was not lost on his hearers.

Mrs. Hillmer raised her veil. Her face was deathly pale and tense in its fixed agony. But in her eyes was a light which gave a curious aspect of resolve to her otherwise painful aspect of utter grief.

"I do not choose," she said quietly, looking, not at Bruce or the detective, but at her brother.

For a little while no one spoke. Mensmore at last broke out eagerly:

"Don't act absurdly, Gwen. I cannot even guess where all this talk about the furniture is leading us, but I do know that you are as innocent of any complicity in Lady d.y.k.e's death as I am, so it is better for you to help forward the inquiry than to r.e.t.a.r.d it."

"I am not innocent," said Mrs. Hillmer, her words falling with painful distinctness upon the ears of the three men. "Heaven help me! I am responsible for it!"

Her brother started to his feet, and caught her by the shoulder.

"What folly is this," he cried. "Do you know what you are saying?"

"Fully. My words are like sledge-hammers. I will forever feel their weight. I tell you I am responsible for the death of Lady d.y.k.e."

"Then how did she die, Mrs. Hillmer?" said Bruce, whose glance sought to read her soul.

"I do not know. I do not want to know. It matters little to me."

"In other words, you are a.s.suming a responsibility you should not bear.

You were not even aware of this poor lady's death until I told you. Why should you seek to avert suspicion from others merely because Lady d.y.k.e is shown to have met her death in your apartments?"

"But how is it shown?" interrupted Mensmore vehemently. He was more disturbed by his sister's unaccountable att.i.tude than he had ever been by the serious charge against himself.

"Easily enough," said White, feeling that he ought to have some share in the conversation. "A piece of the damaged fender placed in your rooms, Mr. Mensmore, was found in the murdered lady's head."

"Was it?" he cried. "Then, by Heaven, I refuse to see my sister sacrificed for anybody's sake. She has borne too long the whole burden of misery and degradation. I tell you, Gwen, that if you do not save yourself I will save you against your will. That furniture came to my room because--"

"Bertie, I beseech you, for the sake of the woman you love, to spare me."

Mrs. Hillmer flung herself on her knees before him and caught hold of his hands, while she burst into a storm of tears.

Mensmore was unnerved. He turned to Bruce, and said:

"Help me in this miserable business, old chap. I don't know what to say or do; my sister had no more connection with Lady d.y.k.e's death than I had. This statement on her part is mere hysteria, arising from other circ.u.mstances altogether."

"That I feel acutely," said the barrister. "Yet some one killed her, and, whatever the pain that may be caused, and whoever may suffer, I am determined that the truth shall come out."

"I tell you," wailed Mrs. Hillmer between her sobs, "that I must bear all the blame. Why do you hesitate? She was killed in my house, and I confess my guilt."

"This _is_ rum business," growled Mr. White aloud, half unconsciously.

At that moment the door opened unexpectedly, and Smith entered.

Before Bruce had time to vociferate an order to his astounded servitor the man stuttered an excuse:

"Beg pardon, sir," he said, "but Sir Charles d.y.k.e has called, and wants to know if you will be disengaged soon."

CHAPTER XXIII

THE LETTER

Quick on the heels of the footman's stammered explanation came the voice of Sir Charles himself:

"Sorry to disturb you, Bruce, if you are busy, but I must see you for a moment on a matter of the utmost importance."

There was that in his utterance which betokened great excitement. He was not visible to the occupants of the room. During the audible silence that followed his words, they could hear him stamping about the pa.s.sage, impatiently awaiting Bruce's presence.