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"I suppose you mean Frettlby's connection with Rosanna Moore; well, of course, it was not a very creditable thing for her to have been Frettlby's mistress, but still " "His mistress?" said Fitzgerald, looking up sharply "then you don't know all." "What do you mean was she not his mistress?" "No his wife!" Calton sprang to his feet, and gave a cry of surprise. "His wife!" Fitzgerald nodded.
"Bah," retorted the hag, with scorn, "as if you didn't know my gran'daughter Sal." "Sal, Mark Frettlby's child?" "Yes, an' as pretty a girl as the other, tho' she 'appened to be born on the wrong side of the 'edge. Oh, I've seen 'er a-sweepin' along in 'er silks an' satins as tho' we were dirt an' Sal 'er 'alf sister cuss 'er."
The latter folded up the papers thoughtfully, and put them in his pocket. "You know what these are?" he asked Sal, eyeing her keenly. "I could hardly help knowing," she answered; "it proves that Rosanna Moore was Mr. Frettlby's wife, and " she hesitated. "Go on," said Brian, in a harsh tone, looking up. "And they were the papers she gave Mr. Whyte." "Well!"
So, as the matter stood at the time of Mark Frettlby's return to Melbourne, Mr. Calton was waiting for Fitzgerald's confession before making a move, while Kilsip worked stealthily in the dark, searching for evidence against Moreland. On receiving Madge's telegram, Brian determined to go down in the evening, but not to dinner, so he sent a reply to Madge to that effect.
Brian sighed as he released her hands, and was about to reply when the visitor's bell sounded, they heard the servant answer it, and then someone was taken upstairs to Mr. Frettlby's study. When the footman came in to light the gas, Madge asked who it was that had come to the door. "I don't know, miss," he answered; "he said he wanted to see Mr.
He went there yesterday afternoon at two o'clock that is the day after he got it so it would be sent round to Mr. Frettlby's bank, and would not be returned till next day, and as he died in the meanwhile I expect it hasn't been honoured, so Mr. Moreland won't have his money yet." "I wonder what he'll do," said Chinston.
Exhausted by the efforts she had made, the old woman sank back in her bed, while Calton sat dazed, thinking over the astounding revelation that had just been made. That Rosanna Moore should turn out to be Mark Frettlby's mistress he hardly wondered at; after all, the millionaire was but a man, and in his young days had been no better and no worse than the rest of his friends.
Brian well knew that the world winked at secret vices so long as there was an attempt at concealment, though it was cruelly severe on those which were brought to light, and that many whose lives might be secretly far more culpable than poor Mark Frettlby's, would be the first to slander the dead man.
"Yes, I suppose so," replied Brian, mechanically, his thoughts far away, and then he turned again to the window. Suddenly Calton gave vent to an exclamation of surprise, and, turning hastily, Brian saw him holding a thick roll of papers in his hand, which he had taken out of the drawer. "Look here, Fitzgerald," he said, greatly excited, "here is Frettlby's confession look!" and he held it up.
Brian, after several consultations with Calton, at last came to the conclusion that it would be useless to reveal to Sal Rawlins the fact that she was Mark Frettlby's daughter, as by the will the money was clearly left to Madge, and such a revelation could bring her no pecuniary benefit, while her bringing up unfitted her for the position; so a yearly income, more than sufficient for her wants, was settled upon her, and she was allowed to remain in ignorance of her parentage.
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