The Third. Volume

Captain Larcher returned with Kerry to the cottage in Nightingale Lane, as he could not make up his mind to resume his own name, or tear himself away from the bookworm life of twenty-five years. No one knew the truth save Claude, Jenny, and myself, for Hilliston being absent from England does not count. The vicar was also enlightened on the subject, and expressed much astonishment at the strange series of events which had culminated in the death and confession of Mrs. Hilliston. Unwilling to lose his old crony he heartily approved of Larcher's determination to resume his usual life, and so the matter was settled. Captain Larcher will remain Mr. Ferdinand Paynton to the end of his days, and will still be a mystery to the gossips of Thorston; how great a one they can never guess.

But a notable change has taken place in his habits. He is no longer a recluse, a misanthrope. When I am at the Manor House he visits me there; he is a constant guest at the vicarage, and may be seen frequently fishing beside Kerry on the banks of the Lax. Following the example of his master, Denis Bantry also renounced his name, which he superstitiously regarded as one of ill-omen, and called himself Kerry for the rest of his life. If he was grieved for his unhappy sister, her life and her death, he finds consolation in the society of Mrs. Claude Larcher, who conducts herself toward him as a niece should do. But the relationship is not known beyond the walls of Rose Cottage, lest it might lead to inquiries, and Jenny is still known as the daughter of Mr. Paynton.

That Claude should call Mr. Paynton "father" is of course only regarded as natural by the village. Has he not married Jenny, and does he not stand in the relation of a son to the old man? Thorston gossips think he is a most perfect son-in-law, and never guess that any nearer relationship exists between them.

Of course Jenny and Claude were married as speedily as possible, and I do not know a happier couple. Mrs. Larcher has quite converted me with regard to the fair sex, and plumes herself on her victory. She has the audacity to say that she will yet succeed in getting me married, but I think that is beyond her powers. Mr. Linton married them, and they spent their honeymoon at the Manor House, which I lent them for the occasion. Indeed, while at Thorston they invariably live with me, and I should be offended did they take up their quarters anywhere else. Not that they have any desire to do so, for Rose Cottage is rather small, and, besides, the Manor is within easy distance of it, so that Jenny can see her father – or, rather, her father-in-law – as often as she chooses.

Claude still goes to different parts of the world to build bridges and construct railways. Sometimes his wife goes with him, but she does not like to be so long away from Thorston. Paynton is now an old man, and cannot live long, so Mrs. Larcher wishes to be near him as much as possible. Besides, the cares of the nursery take up her attention, so I think that in a few months Claude will settle down to business in London, and make his home at Thorston, as he always intended to do. There is a pleasant little place not far from the Manor which I have been commissioned to buy for him, so I really think that next year Claude and Jenny will take up their residence among us.

The only person who disapproved of the marriage was Frank Linton, who accused Jenny of jilting him. This was utter nonsense, as she never had any intention of becoming his wife. However, the author considers himself badly treated, and has taken up his quarters in London, where he writes books, and poses in Chelsea circles. But I do not think he will ever write so excellent a book as "A Whim of Fate," perhaps because Mrs. Claude Larcher refuses to tell him any more plots. She has a good reason for so doing, as the troubles which arose out of her finding the murder papers in the garret of Rose Cottage have startled her in no small degree. Still, as I tell her, she must look on such troubles as a blessing in disguise, for, after all, they led to her marriage and present happiness. But Mrs. Claude does not see the matter in so amiable a light.

Finally, Hilliston! It is hard to say what has become of that gentleman. After the death of his second wife, he withdrew from business and went abroad. There I believe he is still, and from what I hear of him at odd times he seems to have developed into a kind of Wandering Jew. France, Italy, Austria, Germany, Russia, he has seen all these places, and is constantly traveling about, no doubt trying to live down the past. Whether he will succeed in doing so it is hard to say.

After some consideration I have come to the conclusion that we have been rather hard on Hilliston. He did not love Mrs. Larcher, in spite of his wife's insane jealousy on the point, and I believe he was sincerely attached to Mona Bantry. The blot on his character is that he did not marry her when she first came to London, and seeing that he was in love with her, I profess my inability to explain why he did not do so. Perhaps it was on account of her low birth, or the circumstances which connected her with Jeringham, but at all events he did not marry her till it was too late for the poor creature's happiness. Otherwise I do not see how he could have acted differently. Louisa Sinclair was guilty of the murder, but as she did it on his account, and was wildly in love with him, it was to his honor that he protected her as he did. Whether he would have told the truth had Mrs. Larcher been convicted I do not know, but as Louisa Sinclair did not leave for America till Mrs. Larcher was released, I think Hilliston would have persuaded her to confess openly in the event of a conviction.

It is true that he married her for her money, but I think he was touched by her devotion, and gave her some love. No doubt it was Mrs. Hilliston's remorse for condemning his father to lifelong seclusion that made her so kind to Claude when he was a lad. Now it is easy to see why Hilliston was reluctant that Claude and I should investigate the case. He was afraid lest the truth should be found out, and his wife arrested. I was wrong in my surmise. Hilliston was not afraid for himself, but for the unhappy woman who had killed Jeringham in mistake for him. The whole mystery would have been solved years ago had Dicky Pental spoken out as he should have done. But the fear of being shut up in an asylum closed his mouth, and so the case was at a standstill for five-and-twenty long years.

It was strange that Jenny, who set the ball rolling, should have been the indirect means of avenging her father's murder – or rather of solving the mystery which concealed it. Had she not discovered those papers in the garret, she would not have been able to give Frank Linton the plot of "A Whim of Fate." Had that novel not been written and published, Mrs. Bezel would not have read it, and thereby have been induced to write to Claude. Had she not done so, Hilliston would not have told Claude the truth, thence we would not have taken up the investigation and solved the mystery. It was Jenny who was responsible for the whole. After five-and-twenty years the child of the murdered man unconsciously enlightened us as to the person who had slain him. Fate works in strange ways.

But I do not wish to figure further as a detective. This one experience has been quite enough for me. The thought, the anguish, the trouble is too worrying. The next criminal case in the Larcher family can look after itself. I abandon the rôle of detective, and thus put the last word to my only criminal case.