"I did. I saw him under a lamp. He was going back to the theatre and was very pale. Then I cut to look after Sir Bernard. I gave the whistle and then I cleared. Next day Mr. Beryl told me all that had taken place."

"Did you think he had committed the crime?"

"No, I thought that Michael had. He had forged a check, and I thought that he would quarrel with Sir Simon and kill him."

The boy spoke in all earnestness, so apparently Julius had been clever enough to keep the fact of his own guilt secret. But for the handkerchief it would have been difficult to have accused him. Conniston asked a final question. "How much do you get for all this?"

"Two thousand pounds if Michael died."

"If you poisoned him?" asked Bernard.

"Yes," said Jerry, sulkily. "I did intend to poison him, as I wanted the two thousand pounds. I came on here, and was then going to hide in London. After that, I should have sent for Victoria, and when Mr. Beryl paid, we would have gone to America."

"And why didn't you carry out this clever plan?" asked Gore.

Jerry turned still more sulky. "Because I saw you, and then I knew the game was up. Even if Michael had died, you would have been able to claim the property."

"Then Beryl really believed I was dead?"

"Yes, he did--so did I. When Victoria wrote me that you were here, I thought you were Michael. And when Michael came over to the Bower, I thought he had come from here. If I had known the truth----"

"Well?" said Bernard, dryly.

Jerry smiled amiably. "I'd have chucked Mr. Beryl and offered to prove your innocence if you gave me the two thousand. No," added Jerry, with a charming smile, "I'd have asked three thousand from you."

The young men looked at one another in wonder at this precocious criminality. "Can you prove my innocence?" asked Bernard.

"Yes," said Jerry.

"You know who killed Sir Simon?"

"Yes, I do. But I won't tell till I have seen Beryl," and this was all they could get out of him, in spite of threats of further whippings and cajolings. So Jerry was taken back to his room, and Bernard arranged with Conniston that the boy should be taken to London that very day.

"And then, when Durham lets me know, I'll surrender myself. But I wonder who killed my grandfather after all."

"Julius Beryl," said Conniston.

"Hum! I don't know. This boy seems to have some idea. I tell you what, d.i.c.k, I shouldn't be surprised if the boy did it himself."

CHAPTER XXII

THE TRUTH

The arrest of Sir Bernard Gore made a great sensation. It was generally supposed that he was dead, and his unexpected appearance surprised every one. Also, as he was believed to be guilty, the public was amazed that he should thus thrust himself into jeopardy. But more thoughtful people saw in Gore's surrender a proof of his innocence, and argued very rightly that were he guilty of the murder of Sir Simon, he would not come forward as he had done to stand his trial.

An additional surprise came in the arrest of Michael, who was said to be the half-brother of Gore, and to resemble him very closely. A rumor got about--no one knew how--that this resemblance between the two would be made the basis of the defence. Also, the boy, Jerry Moon, who was implicated in the matter, was in charge of the police, and it was expected that he would make startling revelations. On the whole, there was every chance that the forthcoming trial would be extremely interesting. Every one looked forward with great expectation to the time when Sir Bernard would be placed in the dock. Inspector Groom, formerly in charge of the case, was now attending to the matter again. He said very little, although the reporters tried to make him give his opinion.

But, from the few words he let drop, it would seem that he believed firmly in the innocence of the accused man.

"I don't see anything about Beryl in the papers," said Conniston, when at Durham's office.

"There is nothing to say about him at present," replied the lawyer. "We have not caught him yet, and perhaps never may."

"Victoria warned him, then?"

"Yes. That imp of a boy wrote a letter stating that Bernard was at Cove Castle, and advising flight. Victoria caught a train shortly before eleven and came straight to Beryl's rooms, the address of which she received from Jerry. Beryl--as Jerry had done--saw that the game was up, and realized that we, knowing Gore to be alive, had been simply playing with the imposture of Michael. He bolted that same night and managed to cross to the Continent. At least, we suppose so, as no trace of him can be found."

"What will you do about him, then?"

Durham shrugged his shoulders. "There is nothing can be done," he answered. "With the evidence of Michael, Jerry and Miss Randolph and Tolomeo, we shall be able to prove Bernard's innocence and his cousin's guilt. Bernard will be set free without a stain on his character. But as to how Beryl will be arrested, or whether he will ever be punished, I am unable to give an opinion."

"What about Mrs. Gilroy?"

"Ah, we want her. But we cannot find out where she is. Even her son doesn't know. He would speak out if he did know, as I fancy he is sincerely repentant for the trouble this new edition of the Corsican Brothers has caused."

"But had you not some plan to lure Mrs. Gilroy out of her hiding?"

Durham searched amongst his papers and produced a journal. "Read that,"

said he, pointing to a column.

It was an article dealing with the case, in which the writer hinted that Michael was guilty and Bernard innocent. It was also stated that Michael would certainly be put in the dock, and that sufficient evidence was in the power of the prosecution to procure his condemnation. The whole article was written strongly, and after reading it, Conniston, had he not known the true facts of the case, would have fancied Michael guilty.

He said as much. Durham smiled.

"That is exactly the feeling I wish to convey to Mrs. Gilroy," he declared, taking back the paper. "She, if any one, can prove the guilt of Beryl, but for some reason--perhaps for money--she is hiding. If she reads that paragraph she will at once come forward to save her son, and then we'll be able to prove Beryl's guilt beyond a doubt."

"But she may not take in the particular journal," said Conniston.

"Oh, this is only one paper. Within the next few days that article will be copied in every newspaper in London. Mrs. Gilroy is bound, wherever she is, to hear of the arrest of her son, and of Bernard giving himself up. To learn what is taking place she will read whatever papers she can get hold of. Then she will see that article, and if it doesn't bring her forward to save Michael and condemn Beryl, I am very much mistaken."

"It sounds rather like contempt of court," said d.i.c.k, gravely.

Durham laughed. "It is, in a way. Every man has a right to be considered innocent in English law until his guilt is proved. But I arranged with Scotland Yard that this article should appear in the hope that Mrs.

Gilroy--an important witness, mind you--should be brought forward. I can't exactly tell you all the details, but you may be sure that the thing has been done legally. Besides," argued Durham, calmly, "seeing we have such a strong proof of Beryl's guilt, there is no doubt that Michael will have a fair trial."

"I say," said Conniston, rising to take his leave, "do you know it's Bernard's idea that Jerry might have committed the crime. It seems to me that Beryl is too great a coward to do it himself."

"Stuff!" said Durham, quite in the style of Miss Berengaria. "The boy could not have possibly strangled the old man. He was leading Bernard to the Square to within a few minutes of the time when Mrs. Gilroy came out shouting murder. No, Conniston, Beryl is the man, as is proved by his handkerchief. He came to the house immediately Tolomeo left, since he pa.s.sed that man in the Square. The boy saw him departing, after Bernard was lured to be on the spot. Beryl was hurrying back to the theatre to arrange for his _alibi_. Everything was beautifully arranged. But for the discovery of Michael, we might have learned nothing. Also Tolomeo's evidence is valuable. Mrs. Gilroy, having been in the house at the time, is the woman who knows all. Doubtless Beryl threatened to denounce her son, and that was why she accused Bernard, counting on the resemblance to carry the matter through."

"What an infernally wicked woman!" said d.i.c.k, angrily.

"Oh! not at all. Mrs. Gilroy is a mother, and she naturally would sacrifice the whole world to save her son. Besides, she may have acted on the spur of the moment, and then had to go on with the matter."

"Well," said Conniston, putting on his hat, "I sincerely hope your net will capture her."

"It is sure to. A woman who would try and save her son by accusing an innocent man would not remain quiet to see him hanged. By the way, Miss Berengaria is in town, I believe?"