The Mystery of M. Felix

"How far do the woods extend?" I asked.

"You'll have to walk six or seven miles," she replied, "before you get out of 'em-and mind you take care of the cliffs. They're dangerous."

"We shall see them, I suppose, before we come on them?"

"Oh, you'll see 'em right enough, but nobody goes nearer to 'em than they can help."

She stood looking after us till thick clusters of trees hid us from her sight.

"Step out, Sophy," I said, "we've got a long walk before us."

An explanation of the motive for my sudden visit to Glasserton will be found in the following extracts from the Fleetdyke Herald:

THE FIRST EXTRACT

"Tampering with a Register Book. Strange Case. – M. Bordier and his son, Julian Bordier, of Swiss extraction, were charged with erasing a name, and writing another over it, from a marriage entry in the register book of marriages in the parish of Glasserton. Mr. Hare, the registrar, stated that the accused visited him yesterday afternoon, for the purpose, as they said, of verifying a copy of a marriage certificate which they brought with them. The marriage in question was solemnized over nineteen years ago, and, according to the entry as it now stands, was between Gerald Paget and Emilia Braham, The elder of the accused made the examination, and professed himself satisfied. He then requested the registrar to step out of the office with him, saying that he wished to make some private inquiries of him. The registrar consented, and the two went outside for a few minutes, the questions which M. Bordier asked relating to the witnesses to the marriage, Julian Bordier meanwhile remaining alone in the office with, the register book. Mr. Hare, who has been registrar for nine or ten months only, answered the questions to the best of his ability, and then M. Bordier summoned his son from the office, and the accused departed. In the evening Mr. Hare had occasion to consult the register book, and as a matter of curiosity he referred to the entry which his visitors in the afternoon had called to verify. To his astonishment he discovered that the name of the bridegroom had been erased, and the name of Gerald Paget written over the erasure. His suspicions fell immediately upon M. Bordier and Julian Bordier, and learning that they had left the village, he obtained a warrant for their arrest, and, with a policeman, started in pursuit. The accused were greatly agitated when told to consider themselves under arrest, and the elder of the two commenced an explanation, to which, however, Mr. Hare and the constable refused to listen. He then begged to be permitted to write and telegraph to London for legal and professional assistance which, he said, would establish their innocence, and his request being granted, he wrote and despatched both letters and telegrams. The registrar having finished his evidence, the magistrate said the case was quite clear, and asked the accused what they had to say in their defence. M. Bordier, who assumed the office of spokesman, his son preserving a somewhat scornful silence, handed the magistrate two telegrams he had received from London in reply to those he had despatched. M. Bordier said that he refrained from putting any questions to the registrar, giving as a reason that he was ignorant of the procedure in English Courts of Justice. The magistrate, having read the telegrams, remarked that the names attached to them were those of eminent and renowned gentlemen whose time must be very valuable. As they promised to attend the court on the following morning and were anxious to return on the same day the accused were therefore remanded till to-morrow for the production of these important witnesses from London."

THE SECOND EXTRACT

Tampering with a Register Book. Strange and Important Evidence. – Result. – M. Bordier and his son, Julian Bordier, were brought up on remand on the charge of altering a signature in a marriage entry in the register book of the parish of Glasserton. Upon the case being called Mr. Lawson, of the well-known firm of Lawson & Lawson, St. Helen's, London, who said he appeared for the defence, asked that Mr. Shepherd, the eminent expert in caligraphy, should be allowed to examine the register book, and the application was granted. The clerk read the evidence given yesterday by Mr. Hare, the registrar, who stated, in reply to a question from the magistrate, that he had nothing to add to it. Mr. Lawson then proceeded to cross-examine the witness:

"'You state that the register book was examined in your presence?'-'Yes.'

"'Was there any possibility of the signature being tampered with while you were by?'-'It could not possibly have been done in my presence.'

"'Was M. Bordier left alone in the office with the book?'-'No.'

"'In point of fact, you did not lose sight of him during the whole of the visit?'-'I did not.'

"'Not even for a moment?'-'Not for one moment.'

"'Then he could not have made the erasure or have written the name over it?'-'He could not.'

"'You do not accuse him?'-'Of actually committing the offence, no. Of being an accessory, yes. He called me out of the office to give his accomplice time to do what he wished.'

"'We shall see. Only M. Julian Bordier could possibly have altered the entry?'-'Only him.'

"Mr. Lawson (to the Magistrate): 'This proves that M. Bordier could not have made the erasure.'-Magistrate: 'Exactly.'

"Cross-examination resumed: 'It is not important to the case, but are you familiar with the record of the marriage of Emilia Braham and Gerald Paget, or between her and any other person?'-'No, I never had occasion to refer to this particular entry.'

"'Were M. Bordier and his son the only visitors you received on that day who wished to verify an entry in the register book?'-'The only visitors.'

"'After they left you did you leave your office?'-'For an hour in the evening.'

"'Before you discovered that the entry had been tampered with?'-'Yes, before that.'

"'Who was in charge of the premises while you were away?'-'The servant, Jane Seebold.'

"'When you made the discovery of the erasure, did you ask Jane Seebold if anyone had called in your absence?'-'I did not.'

"'Did you at any time inform her that the book had been tampered with?'-'I did not.'

"'You jumped at the conclusion that the gentlemen you accuse must be guilty?'-'There is no other conclusion.'

"'That will do. Call Mr. Shepherd.'

"Mr. Shepherd stepped into the witness-box.

"Mr. Lawson: 'You are an expert in handwriting?'-'Witness: I am; it is my profession.'

"'You have given evidence in many celebrated cases?'-'I have.'

"The Magistrate: 'Mr. Shepherd's name and reputation are well known.'

"'Have you examined the entry of the marriage between Emilia Braham and Gerald Paget?'-'I have.'

"'There is an undoubted erasure of the signature of the bridegroom?'-'There is.'

"'The name, Gerald Paget, as it now appears, has been recently written?'-'Quite recently, within the past week. The state of the ink in which the name is freshly written proves it.'

"'You put a marked emphasis upon the words "freshly written." Have you a reason for doing so?'-'I have. Upon a careful examination of the entry I am of the firm opinion that the name erased is the same as the name written above the erasure. The letters have been very cleverly traced.'

"The Magistrate: 'That sounds very strange.'

"Mr. Lawson: 'It does; but it is a puzzle that may be solved. Say that there is here a question of property which would fall to the Emilia Braham who is married according to this entry. To become possessed of this property, she must prove her marriage with Gerald Paget. Some one interested on the other side gets hold of the register book, and erases the name of Gerald Paget. What name shall be substituted in its place? What but that of Gerald Paget? This opens up the suggestion that a friend of Emilia Braham (speaking of her in her maiden name) has also paid a visit to the register, book, has erased the bridegroom's name, and written in its place that of Paget, to prove the said Emilia's marriage with him. A formidable suspicion is thrown upon her, and the very entry upon which she relies is weighty evidence against her.'

"The Magistrate: 'It is an ingenious theory, but I cannot see that it has any bearing upon the present case.'

"Mr. Lawson: 'It has an indirect bearing. I have here a copy of the marriage certificate, which I must ask you to compare with the entry in the register book. You will see in the copy that the name is Gerald Paget, and you cannot doubt that the copy is genuine."

"The Magistrate: 'There can be little doubt of that. The state of the paper is a proof.'

"Mr. Lawson: 'If the copy had been lost, it would have greatly strengthened those whose interests are opposed to Mrs. Paget's. I have nothing further to ask you, Mr. Shepherd. Call Jane Seebold.'

"Jane Seebold was shown into the witness-box.

"'Your name is Jane Seebold?'-'Yes.'

"'You are in the service of Mr. Hare?'-'Yes.'

"'Do you remember the day before yesterday?'-'Yes.'

"'In the evening Mr. Hare went out for an hour?'-'Yes.'

"'Was the office in which the official books are kept open?'-'Yes, it was, and I was sweeping it out.'

"'Did anybody call while you were so employed?'-'Yes, a gentleman.'

"'Did he inquire for any one?'-'Yes, my master.'

"'Well?'-'I told him he was out.'

"'What did he say to that?'-'He said he would wait for him.'

"'You allowed him to wait?'-'Yes.'

"'In the office?'-'Yes.'

"'What did you do while he waited?'-'I had work in other parts of the house, and I went and did it.'

"'For how long was the gentleman left alone in the office?'-'Half an hour, perhaps.'

"'Then you went in to him?'-'Yes, and he said he was going, and he went.'

"'Did you tell your master of the gentleman's visit when he returned?'-'No, I didn't.'

"'Why didn't you?' The witness hesitated. 'Why didn't you? Remember that you are on your oath, and that if you prevaricate or speak falsely you may get yourself into serious trouble. Why did you not tell your master of the gentleman's visit?'-'Well, he gave me five shillings, and told me to say nothing about it. I don't see that I've done any harm.'

"'You can step down.'

"The Magistrate: 'Stop a moment. Where were the official books while the gentleman was in the office?'-'In their proper place-the desk.'

"Mr. Lawson: 'Was the desk locked?'-'The lock's been broke all the time I've been in the place.'

"'So that all a person had to do to get hold of the books was to lift the lid?'-'Yes.'

"The Magistrate: 'Your conduct was very reprehensible.'

"The witness then left the box.

"Mr. Lawson: 'We have brought the inquiry now to this point. Supposing the erasure to have been made on the day in question, the commission of the offence lies between M. Julian Bordier and the person who visited the registrar's office in his absence.'

"The Magistrate: 'Quite so. I think the registrar should keep these important public books in a more secure place-in an iron safe.'

"The Registrar: 'I am not supplied with one, your Worship, and I cannot afford to buy one. My servant's evidence comes upon me as a surprise.'

"The Magistrate: 'I repeat what I said. These official records should be kept in safer custody. The authorities should provide proper receptacles for them.'

"Mr. Lawson: 'I shall proceed now to prove that it is an utter impossibility that M. Julian Bordier can be guilty of the offence with which he and his father are charged. Call Mr. Wordsworth.'

"This gentleman, whose name and fame are world-renowned, then gave his evidence, which was short, conclusive, and surprising.

"'You are an oculist?'-'I am.'

"'You are attending M. Julian Bordier?'-'Yes.'

"'Is that the gentleman?'-'That is the gentleman.'

"'What are you attending him for?'-'For his sight.'

"'Could he the day before yesterday have erased a name from the register book and written another name above it?'-'It is utterly impossible.'

"'Why?'-'Because he was blind. He is blind now; His eyes are open, but he cannot see. It is against my express wish that he left London. If he does not return immediately and abide by my instructions, I shall despair of restoring his sight.'

"M. Bordier: 'May I say a word?'

"The Magistrate: 'Certainly.'

"M. Bordier: 'I came to Glasserton to compare the copy of a marriage certificate with the original entry. My son's happiness hung upon this proof, and he insisted upon accompanying me. He would not be dissuaded, and although I feared there was a risk, I yielded to his wish. When we were arrested I endeavored to explain matters to the registrar and the officer, but they would not listen to me. Ignorant of the methods of English courts of justice, I thought it wisest to obtain counsel and assistance from London. That is all I have to say.'

"Mr. Lawson: 'Is it necessary, your worship, for me to address you?'

"The Magistrate: 'No. The gentlemen are discharged, and I regret that they have had to submit to this trial. I trust, Mr. Wordsworth, that you will be able to cure M. Julian Bordier.'

"Mr. Wordsworth: 'If he will be guided by me, I hope to restore his sight.'

"The parties then left the court."

CHAPTER LVI.

NIGHT IN DEERING WOODS

I had a twofold object in going to Glasserton. In the first place I wished to see for myself the original record of the marriage in the register book; in the second place I wished to obtain from the registrar's servant, Jane Seebold, a description of the visitor she allowed to remain in the office while her master was absent from the house. It was evident that she had no knowledge of the purpose of the visit which M. Bordier and his son Julian paid to the registrar in the morning; and it was equally evident that the man who bribed her to silence was the man who erased the signature. I had no doubt that it was either M. Felix or Dr. Peterssen, who by this artful trick hoped to pave the way to a doubt of the genuineness of Emilia's marriage with Gerald Paget. The scoundrels had no idea that the copy of the marriage certificate had been found, or that M. Bordier and his son were in the village on the same day as themselves. All that they wished to do was to make some provision for a possible contingency in the future. If, as was very likely, they read the case in the newspaper, they must have been confounded by the conviction that they were hoist with their own petard. Another thing, I was now satisfied that when I left Bob I had started on a true trail, despite the knavish devices of Dr. Peterssen's tool, Crawley.

The walk through Deering Woods was a dreary one, but it would have been much more dreary had it not been for Sophy, who was always entertaining and original, and never more so than on the present occasion. I let her partly into my confidence, and she was delighted to know that she had been the direct means of throwing light on a cruel injustice. We trudged along side by side, the most amicable and agreeable of companions.

"It'll wake aunty tip when she 'ears everything," said Sophy. "She'll think me good for something now."

"You are the best and brightest little girl in my acquaintance, Sophy," I said.

"I didn't take you in, did I?" she asked.

"No, indeed," I replied. "It was a lucky day for me when I first met you."

"Not so lucky for you as for me," she said. "I've got a silver watch."

"It will turn into a gold one by the time you're a woman."

"Will it?" she exclaimed. "Shan't I be proud!"

About half way through the woods I saw the cliffs of which the landlord's daughter had warned me. In the dark they would have been dangerous indeed to one unfamiliar with them. At some time or other there had been a great landslip, which had opened up a chasm of great depth; in parts slight fences had been put up, but there were spaces entirely unprotected, and I was thankful we had been warned of the danger. It was half-past seven by my watch when we reached Glasserton, and I had no difficulty in finding the registrar's house. He was at home when I called, and did not receive me too cordially. He had been upset by the trial, and it was with the greatest difficulty I succeeded in obtaining a glance of the original entry of the marriage. It was only by bribery and threats that I effected my purpose, and I had to use extreme persuasion to induce him to grant me an interview with Jane Seebold. I elicited very little from her in consequence of the state of confusion she was in, but I was satisfied in my own mind that it was M. Felix who had tampered with the book. From her imperfect description of the man I judged that he must in some way have disguised himself for the purpose of the visit, and I was assisted to this conclusion partly by the height of her visitor, who she said was not a tall man. Dr. Peterssen was not less than six feet, and having to decide between him and M. Felix I decided unhesitatingly in favor of the latter. The registrar had been in Glasserton but three or four years, whereas Jane Seebold had been in it all her life, and I learned from her that two of the three witnesses to the marriage, the doctor and the old wagoner, had long been dead. At nine o'clock my inquiries were ended, and Sophy and I started back for the inn.

"Tired, Sophy?" I asked.

"Not a bit," she answered, cheerfully, "I could walk all night."

Still we did not get along so fast as in the early part of the evening; it would have been cruel to take unfair advantage of Sophy's indomitable spirit; the girl would have walked till she dropped, and I had some consideration for her. Therefore it was that we did not reach the middle of Deering Woods till past ten, by which time the moon had risen. When I was not talking to Sophy my mind was occupied by the task upon which I had been engaged. Since my first introduction to the Mystery of M. Felix a great deal had been accomplished. The mystery has been practically solved, although the public were not yet in possession of the facts. Emilia's agony was over, as I believed, for my wildest dreams would not have compassed what was to occur during the next few weeks; she had been fortunate in gaining a champion so noble and generous as M. Bordier, and her daughter's happiness was assured. I could understand now her anxiety as to M. Bordier's silence since his discovery of the copy of the marriage certificate, and I divined his reason for it. With a horror of publicity, and out of regard for her, he did not wish her to become acquainted with his and his son's arrest until he himself informed her of it, and he entertained a hope that the report of the case would not get into the London papers. I also now understood her anxious references to M. Julian's state of health; they bore upon his failing sight, to restore which he and his father had come to London. The young man had been imprudent, but I trusted to Mr. Wordsworth's assurances that he could make a cure of him if Julian would abide by his instructions. I had no doubt, now that Emilia's good name was established, that Julian would submit to the guidance of this eminent oculist, whose heart was as kind as his skill was great.

So far, all was well, but I was not satisfied; I could not consider my task accomplished till I had brought Dr. Peterssen and M. Felix to the bar of justice and restored to Emilia's arms the husband she believed she had lost in Switzerland.

Sophy broke in upon my musings.

"Is there a man in the moon?" she asked.

"They say so," I answered, lightly.

"I see 'is face," said Sophy, "as plain as plain can be."

We were near the fallen cliffs as these words passed between us, and before I had time to utter another my attention was arrested by the sound of a shot.

"What's that?" cried Sophy.

"A gun or pistol fired," I replied, "and not far off."

"I don't mean the firing," said Sophy, "I mean the scream. Didn't yer 'ear it?"

"No, Sophy, no scream reached my ears."

"It reached mine. I can 'ear anything, if it's in the next street."

"Was it after or before the shot?" I asked.

"About the same time, I think. They come both together."

"Let us go and see what it is, if you're not afraid."

"Me afraid," she said contemptuously, and she ran before me in the direction from which the sounds had proceeded. We had not gone fifty yards before we both stopped simultaneously, with an exclamation of horror on our lips. On the ground before us lay the body of a man, pressing his hand to his heart, from which the blood was flowing. He struggled into a sitting posture, and was endeavoring to rise to his feet, when he fell back with a groan, and moved no more.

I rushed to his side and bent over him.

"There has been murder done," I said. "He is dead."

"Yes," said Sophy in a low tone, as she stooped over the body. "He's dead this time, and no mistake.

"Dead this time!" I repeated in wonder.

"Don't yer see who it is?" she asked. "It's Mr. Felix!"

M. Felix! This, then, was the end of the ill-spent life. The evil record was thus suddenly snapped, and the man who was supposed to have died in Gerard Street, Soho, on the night of the 16th of January, lay dead before me in the lonely Deering Woods, his last breath but just drawn.

"Are you sure, Sophy?"

"Ain't you sure?"

"I cannot be. I never saw him in life."

"I can't be mistook. It's Mr. Felix-but oh, ain't it orfle! who could 'ave done it?"

"Who, Sophy? Who but his companion in crime, Dr. Peterssen?"

At this moment, from an unseen hand behind, Sophy was struck to the ground. Her scream of pain was frozen on her lips, and she lay prone before me.

"You infernal villain," I cried, and turned.

The moon was shining brightly, and by its light I saw the form of Dr. Peterssen. In his upraised hands he held a heavy stake. I strove to avoid the blow, and received it on my arm. Before I could recover myself the stake was raised again, and again it descended upon me, this time upon my head. The earth swam round. Again I was struck with savage violence, and as I fell the last thing I saw was the moon with a face in it which smiled upon me in the likeness of Dr. Peterssen.

CHAPTER LVII.

THE CAVERN IN THE CLIFF

I opened my eyes in darkness. How long I had remained insensible I did not know, nor did I know where I was. All that I was conscious of at first was a dull pain in my head, but presently I was sensible of other facts. My hands were tied behind me, and my mouth was gagged, so that I could only utter unintelligible moans. To my astonishment my moans were answered by similar sounds at a short distance from me. Pain and suffering are selfish and dominant qualities, and some few moments passed before I thought of my brave Sophy. Then it occurred to me that the moans I heard proceeded from her, and that she was in the same condition as myself. My immediate feeling was one of thankfulness that she was alive. In vain did I strive to free my hands; in vain did I strive to speak intelligible words; in vain did I strive to pierce the black darkness in which we were enveloped. I did not know whether it was day or night, and I shuddered to think of the fate in store for us. Soon I found myself forgetting my own peril entirely, and dwelling only upon poor Sophy's. Bitterly did I reproach myself for bringing her to this pass, for it was I, and I alone, who was responsible for the doom which would surely overtake her. I had no doubt that we were imprisoned here to die, and it was I who had sealed her fate.

My thoughts did not flow steadily and uninterruptedly. Every now and then I relapsed into unconsciousness, and when I revived it seemed to me as if I took up quite naturally the thread of my reflections at the point at which they were broken off. These intervals of insensibility may have been long or short for all I knew. I was starving; I was parched; I would have given the world for a drink of water; but I can say truthfully that if water had been available for only one of us, I would have set my lips hard and given the relief to my companion in misery. I have read of exquisite tortures inflicted upon unfortunate people by barbarous nations-aye, and by some civilized nations as well-but no tortures could have been keener than those I endured. Minutes were like hours, hours like days. It was impossible under such conditions to keep count of time.