Detective and mystery stories; Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction
Another sup of brandy gave her strength to go on, and Allen set
down all she said.--"I was furious. I wanted to be Lady Saltars:
besides, I loved him. I always loved him. I had such a cruel life
with Giles--I was so weary of riding--I thought I might die poor.
I have saved money--but not so much as I said. I told Saltars I
had five hundred a year: but I have only two hundred pounds
altogether. When that was gone, I thought I might starve. If my
beauty went--if I met with an accident--no, I could not face
poverty. Besides, I loved Saltars, I really loved him. I implored
your father to hold his tongue. Giles could say nothing, as I could
stop him by threatening to prosecute him for bigamy. Only your father
knew----"
Again she had to gasp for breath, and then went on rapidly as though
she feared she would not last till she had told all. "Your father
behaved like a brute. I hated him. When he came that night to
Westhaven, I heard from Butsey of his arrival, and that he had gone to
the Red Deeps. How Butsey knew, I can't say. But I was not on in the
bills till very late--at the very end of the programme--I had a good,
quick horse, and saddled it myself--I took a pistol--I intended to
shoot your father, and close his mouth for ever. It was his own
fault--how could I lose Saltars, and face poverty and--disgrace?"
There was another pause while Allen's pen set down what she said, and
then with an effort she continued: "I went to the Red Deeps and waited
behind some trees. It was close on nine. I saw your father waiting by
the spring. It was a kind of twilight, and, hidden by the bushes, I
was really quite near to him. He was waiting for some one. At first I
thought I would speak to him again, and implore his pity; but I knew
he would do nothing--I knew also he was going to Wargrove, and would
tell Mrs. Merry that I was her husband's wife. I waited my chance to
fire. I had tethered the horse some distance away. As I looked there
came a shot which evidently hit Strode on the arm, for he put his hand
up and wheeled round. I never stopped to think that some one was
trying to kill him also, or I should have let the work be done by that
person."
"Did you know who the person was?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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