Carson had made no mention of Brock's death, and had accused Bellairs of the murder of the Rao Singha, which he himself had committed. True, he spoke in no measured terms of Michael Trall--in fact, he abused him roundly; but since that adventurer was dead, and Brock was alive in his person, such blame of him and praise of me served only to strengthen my position. I resolved, therefore, that Olive should read of her father's guilt, hoping that thereupon she would refuse to touch the money--granting it was recovered from Boldini--in which case it might come to me. "So the matter stands. All who may know of my identity with Trall are dead. The existing document strengthens my position, and in no way can the death of Carson be traced to me. I shall die in the odour of sanctity, after all; and, indeed, if what the doctor says is true, this cursed accident is going to bring about that event very shortly. Well, if I die, I die; my life has been a hard one, and if I have sinned, I repeat, Nature is to blame, not myself. I have directed by my will that the twenty-one volumes of my cipher diary are to be burnt, since it is only for my own gratification that I have written them. I have no wish to be maligned after my death. Even if the diary is not destroyed I feel safe, seeing that no one can read it save Jerry, and I dare say that he is dead by this time; he must be dead, or Clara would not have gone out to service. I wish, now, I had asked her about him. "Mr. Mallow is about to marry Olive Bellairs. I wish them joy. I have no ill-feeling against either of them. If I live, I may, of course, get back this money. I don't suppose for one moment that Olive will touch it. If I die--well, there is an end of Michael Trall and his bad luck. But no one will ever know that the revered and beloved Vicar of Casterwell killed Angus Carson. I die a respected member of society, and on my tombstone shall be written words of praise. Many a stone has lied about him who sleeps beneath it, so why not mine? I murdered Brock, I murdered Carson, but their ghosts have never haunted me. I have baffled the world, and I have kept my secret in the face of every danger. Mallow is coming to see me again. Well, let him come, I say. I do not fear him now. The bad days are over for me. Michael Trall has gone into limbo, and Manners Brock, the worthy vicar, has beaten Fortune after all." EPILOGUE Letter from Miss Slarge, of Casterwell, to Mrs. Purcell, at San Remo:-- "The first of January, 189--. "MY DEAR SISTER,