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"The message sent to bring you here was merely a ruse of mine. Murderer and treacherous dog that you are, so you thought to get me here in the house among your hired assassins by means of the letter which you compelled my dear mistress to write? Are you mad that you should pit your paltry wits against mine?" "I am as good as you," Fenwick said. "Oh, you rave," Zary went on.
It was no bad thing for men who get their living as we do when some genius invented motor cars. Now do go along or we shall never finish." The little group on the portico steps melted away, and one by one the slouching figures vanished into the darkness. Zary stepped on to the pavement, and proceeded to open the front door of the next house. It yielded to his touch.
Thoughts like these were uppermost in Fenwick's mind as he gazed in consternation about the little room from which Evors had vanished. So far as Fenwick knew, Evors had saved his life from Zary, but that had not prevented Fenwick from behaving in a dastardly fashion. It seemed to him as if Fate were playing into his hands by bringing Evors here at this moment.
Two hours before, nobody, not even Fenwick himself, knew that he would spend the night at the little house in Poplar. And here was Zary already upon his track, almost before he had started on the long journey which was intended to lead to the path of safety. Fenwick never troubled to think what had become of the meal prepared for him, or how the extraordinary change had been brought about.
The latter words came from the speaker's lips with a spitting hiss, such as a cat emits in the presence of a dog. The great round black eyes added intensity to the threat, and rendered the feline simile complete. The prophecy boded ill for Fenwick when at length he and Felix Zary came face to face. "I see my conjecture is quite right," the stranger went on.
"I am glad of this," he said; "and, really, we owe quite a debt of gratitude to the tender-hearted ruffian who was averse to leaving a poor girl in this house all alone. We will spare Fenwick the trouble of any inconvenience so far as she is concerned." So saying, Zary proceeded to walk up the stairs, turning up the lights as he went.
It was not Gerald, however, who advanced from the deepest part of the copse to meet her, but the thin, cadaverous form of Felix Zary. He advanced towards the girl, and, in a grave, respectful way, he lifted her hand to his lips. "You had not expected me, dear lady," he said. "Well no, Felix," Vera said. "Though I am not in the least surprised. I suppose Mr.
Altogether there were some hundreds of pounds, and Fenwick congratulated himself on the foresight which had led him to adopt this plan in case necessity demanded it. He had enough and more than enough to take him to the other side of the world, if only he could manage to get rid of Felix Zary.
As a matter of fact, my father died first, so that Zary alone is in possession of the strange secret of that dread place. One thing is very certain. It was none of us who took vengeance on the Dutchman who murdered my father. Who was responsible for that I do not know.
Charlotte Corday believed herself to be the chosen champion of Heaven when she stabbed the French monster in his bath. Nothing I could say or do would turn Zary from what he believes to be his duty. The only thing you can do is to go away and lose yourself in some foreign country where Zary cannot follow you." "Impossible," Fenwick said hoarsely. "I could not get away.
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