"At last!" whispered Jenny, her face lighting in relief. "He will be gone for a good two hours now and we can talk."

"Not here, then," Mark answered. "Let us go into the garden. Then I can see when the man comes back."

They proceeded into the gathering dusk and presently sat together on a marble seat under an ilex, so near the entrance that none might arrive without their knowledge.

Presently Ernesto came and turned on an electric bulb that hung over the scrolled iron work of the outer gate. Then they were alone again, and the woman threw off all shadow of reserve and restraint.

"Thank G.o.d you can listen at last," she said, then poured out a flood of entreaties. He was swept from every mental hold, drowned in the torrent of her pet.i.tions, baffled and bewildered at one moment, filled with joy in the next.

"Save me," she implored, "for only you can do so. I am not worthy of your love and you may well have ceased to care for me or even respect me; but I can still respect myself, because I know well enough now that I was the innocent victim of this accursed man. It was not natural love that made me follow him and wed him; it was a power that he possesses--a magnetic thing--what they call the 'evil eye' in Italy. I have been cruelly and wickedly wronged and I do not deserve all that I have suffered, for it was the magic of hypnotism or some kindred devilry that made me see him falsely and deceived and drove me.

"From the time my uncle died at 'Crow's Nest' Doria has controlled me. I did not know it then, or I would have killed myself rather than sink to be the creature of any man. I thought it was love and so I married him; then the trick became apparent and he cared not how soon my eyes were opened. But I must leave him if I am to remain a sane woman."

For an hour she spoke and detailed all she had been called upon to endure, while he listened with absorbed interest. She often touched Brendon's shoulder, often clasped his hand. Once she kissed it in grat.i.tude, as he promised to dedicate every thought and energy to her salvation. Her breath brushed his cheek, his arm was round her as she sobbed.

"Save me and I will come to you," she promised. "I am hoodwinked and deceived no longer. He even owns the trap and laughs horribly at me by night. He only wants my money, but thankfully would I give him every penny, if by so doing I could be free of him."

And Brendon listened with a rapture that was almost incredulous; for she loved him at last and desired nothing better than to come to him and forget the double tragedy that had ruined her young life.

She was in his arms now and he sought to soothe her, sustain her and bring her mind to regard a future wherein peace, happiness and content might still be her portion. Another hour pa.s.sed, the fireflies danced over their heads; sweet scents stole through the garden; lights twinkled from the house; on the lake in the silence that now fell between them they heard the gentle thud of a steamer's propeller. Still Doria did not return and as a church clock struck the hour Jenny rose. Already she had knelt at his feet and called him her saviour. Now, still dreaming of the immense change in his fortunes, already occupied with the means that must be taken to free his future wife, Mark was brought back to the present.

Jenny left him to seek a.s.sunta; and he, hearing the steamer and guessing that Peter was at hand, hastened to the house. Silence seemed to fill it, and, as he lifted his voice and called to Albert Redmayne, the noise on the water ceased. No answer reached Mark, and from the library he proceeded to the adjoining bedroom. It was empty and he hastened out upon the veranda above the lake. But still the book lover did not appear. A long, black vessel with all lights out had anch.o.r.ed a hundred yards from the Villa Pianezzo, and now a boat put off from the craft of the lake police and paddled to the steps below Brendon.

At the same moment Jenny joined him.

"Where is Uncle Albert?" she asked.

"I do not know. I have called him and got no answer."

"Mark!" she cried with a voice of fear. "Is it possible--" She moved into the house and lifted her voice. Then Brendon heard a.s.sunta answer and in a moment there followed a horrified exclamation from the younger woman.

But Brendon had descended the steps to meet the approaching boat.

His mind was still in a whirl of mingled emotions. Above him, as he steadied the boat, stood Jenny and she spoke swiftly.

"He is not in the house! Oh, come quickly if that is Mr. Ganns. My uncle has gone across the water and my husband has not returned."

Peter, with four men, quickly landed and Brendon spoke. He could give no details, however, and Jenny furnished them. While she and Mark sat in the garden, guarding the front door and front gate, behind them to the house there had come a message by boat for Mr.

Redmayne from Bellagio. Perhaps there was but one appeal powerful enough to make Albert forget his promises or the danger that he had been a.s.sured now threatened him; but it was precisely this demand which had made the old man hasten away.

a.s.sunta told them how an Italian had reached the steps in a skiff from Bellagio; how he had called her and broken the evil news that Signor Poggi was fallen dangerously ill; and how he sent entreaties to his friends to see him without delay.

"Virgilio Poggi has had a fatal fall and is dying," said the messenger. "He prays Signor Redmayne to fly to him before it is too late."

a.s.sunta dared not delay the message. Indeed, knowing all that this must mean to her master, she delivered it instantly, and five minutes after hearing the dreadful news, Albert Redmayne, in great agony of mind, had embarked, to be rowed toward the promontory where his friend dwelt.

a.s.sunta declared that her master had been gone for an hour, if not longer.

"It may be true," said Jenny, but Brendon knew too well what had happened.

The group formed under Peter's command and he issued his directions swiftly. He cast one look at Mark which the detective never forgot; but none saw it save Brendon himself. Then he spoke.

"Row this boat back to the steamer, Brendon," he said, "and tell them to take you across to Poggi as quick as may be. If Redmayne is there, leave him there and return. But he's not there: he's at the bottom of the lake. Go!"

Mark hastened to the boat and one of the officers who had come with Ganns wrote a dozen words on a sheet from a notebook. With this Brendon reached the black steamer and in another moment the vessel disappeared at full speed under the darkness in the direction of Bellagio.

Then Peter turned to the rest and bade them all, with Jenny, accompany him to the dwelling room. Supper had been laid here but the apartment was empty.

"What has happened," explained Peter, "is this: Doria has used the only certain means of getting Albert Redmayne out of this house, and his wife has doubtless aided him to the best of her power by arresting the attention of my colleague whom I left in charge. How she did it I can easily guess."

Jenny's horrified eyes flamed at him and her face grew rosy.

"How little you know!" she cried. "This is cruel, infamous! Have I not suffered enough?"

"If I am wrong, I'll be the first to own it, ma'am," he answered.

"But I am not wrong. What has happened means that your husband will be back to supper. That's but ten minutes to wait. a.s.sunta, return to the kitchen. Ernesto, hide in the garden and lock the iron gate as soon as Doria has pa.s.sed through it."

Three big men in plain clothes had these remarks translated to them by the fourth, who was a chief of police. Then Ernesto went into the garden, the officers took their stations, and Mr. Ganns, indicating a chair to Jenny, himself occupied another within reach of her. Once she had tried to leave the room, but Peter forbade it.

"Fear nothing if you're honest," he said, but she ignored him and kept her thoughts to herself. She had grown very pale and her eyes roamed over the strange faces around her. Silence fell and in five minutes came the c.h.i.n.k of the iron gate and the footfall of a man without. Doria was singing his canzonet. He came straight into the room, stared about him at the a.s.sembled men, then fixed his eyes upon his wife.

"What is this?" he cried in amazement.

"Game's up and you've lost," answered Ganns. "You're a great crook!

And your own vanity is all that's beat you!" He turned quickly to the chief of police, who showed a warrant and spoke English.

"Michael Pendean," he said, "you are arrested for the murder of Robert Redmayne and Bendigo Redmayne."

"And add 'Albert Redmayne,'" growled Ganns. He leaped aside with amazing agility as he spoke, for the culprit had seized the weapon nearest his hand and hurled a heavy saltcellar from the table at Peter's head. The ma.s.s of gla.s.s crashed into an old Italian mirror behind Ganns and at the moment when all eyes instinctively followed the sound, Jenny's husband dashed for the door. Like lightning he turned and was over the threshold before a hand could be lifted to stop him; but one in the room had watched and now he raised his revolver. This young officer--destined for future fame--had never taken his eyes off Doria and now he fired. He was quick but another had been quicker, had seen his purpose and antic.i.p.ated his action.

The bullet meant for Michael Pendean struck down his wife, for Jenny had leaped into the doorway and stopped it.

She fell without a sound, whereupon the fugitive turned instantly, abandoned his flight, ran to her, knelt and lifted her to his breast.

He was harmless now, but he embraced a dead woman and the blood from her mouth, as he kissed her, covered his lips. He made no further fight and, knowing that she was dead, carried her to a couch, laid her gently down, then turned and stretched his arms for the handcuffs.

A moment later Mark Brendon entered from the house.

"Poggi sent no message and Albert Redmayne has not been seen at Bellagio," he said.

CHAPTER XVII

THE METHODS OF PETER GANNS

Two men travelled together in the train de luxe from Milan to Calais. Ganns wore a black band upon the sleeve of his left arm; his companion carried the marks of mourning in his face. It seemed that Brendon had increased in age; his countenance looked haggard; his very voice was older.