Chinese -- England -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction
"Theophilus has left me. Yes! Last night he went away leaving a
cold letter behind him which was to be delivered to me at the
altar. And it was," wept Miss Pewsey, "that old woman Mrs.
Bressy brought the note. It said that Theophilus has left me for
ever. And all my friends were there, and I was awaiting the
happy hour, then--then"--she broke down sobbing.
Olivia was touched. Miss Pewsey had always been her enemy, yet
there was something about the unhappy creature which called for
sympathy.
"I am sorry for your trouble," said Mrs. Ainsleigh, in a softer
voice.
"No," said Miss Pewsey drying her eyes with a very wet
handkerchief, "you can't be, I never liked you, nor you me."
"That is perfectly true, and you turned my aunt against me. All
the same I _am_ sorry, and anything I can do shall be done."
Miss Pewsey threw herself on her knees before her enemy, who was
thus heaping coals of fire on her head. "Then ask your husband
to leave my Theophilus alone," she whispered. "Clarence, who has
also gone, wrote to me, and said that Mr. Ainsleigh accused
Theophilus of the death of my dearest Sophia."
"What," cried Olivia, "does Mr. Burgh dare. Why he accuses Dr.
Forge, himself. Rupert certainly wrote to the detective Mr.
Rodgers, but Mr. Burgh has to substantiate his statement."
Miss Pewsey jumped up. "What," she said, much more her own evil
self, "did Clarence accuse my Theophilus? It's a lie--a lie. I
have kept silence too long--much too long."
"About what?"
"About the murder," screamed Miss Pewsey, "it was Clarence who
killed my Sophia--yes--you may look and look Olivia--but it was
Clarence himself. He took the tie from the coat-pocket. I told
him, you had given it to him, and--"
"But he gave it to Dr. Forge."
"He did not. Clarence took Sophia out on to the steps--at least
he appointed to meet her there, to tell her about the fan. Then
he strangled her, thinking your husband would be accused.
Theophilus came on Clarence when he was picking up the fan.
Sophia held it in her death grip, and it was some time before he
could get it loose. Theophilus came, and hearing steps, Clarence
ran away down to the beach. Then he returned to the ball-room by
the front of the hotel."
"But the fan?"
"Theophilus Forge has it," said Miss Pewsey, setting her face,
"and I expect he has taken it with him."
"Why didn't you tell this at the inquest."
"Because I didn't. Clarence is my own sister's son. I could not
see him hanged. He had to hold his tongue, although he wanted
the fan back again. But I insisted that Theophilus should make
the money out of it. This is Clarence's revenge. Because the fan
is kept from him he threatens Theophilus; oh Olivia, _do_ ask
your husband to leave the matter alone, I will give up that
mortgage--"
"I can do nothing," said Olivia, "it isn't in my husband's
power. He has written to Rodgers--"
"But he has not told him anything," said Miss Pewsey eagerly.
"No. He merely asked him to call."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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