I said not a word; but I sat by myself, and I matured, I think, the maddest scheme that ever entered a sane man's head. Desperate diseases, as everybody knows, ask for desperate remedies, and here I do not know how it was possible for anybody to overestimate the urgency of the case. Count Rossano has gone peacefully to his rest now this many a year, but I had learned to love the man with a loyal affection and esteem, the like of which I never felt for any human creature, except my wife and my own children. It made for a good deal in my affection for him that I had been instrumental in rescuing him from that living death he had suffered for so many years, for I have found over and over again in my own experience that one of the surest ways of learning to love a man is to do him a good turn. And apart from my own affection for him, he was the very apple of Violet's eye, and my affection for her I have never been able to find words for. That her money should be employed to lure her father to destruction was a thing altogether hideous and intolerable; and when I hit upon the only method I could see to prevent so dreadful a consummation, I accepted my own madness with a tranquillity which has surprised me very often in remembering it. I thought it well, before starting on the enterprise I had in hand, to set down my purpose in writing, so that if it miscarried I might at least escape the mischief of misconstruction. So I sat down and wrote deliberately that it was my intention to rob Lady Rollinson of the sum of forty thousand pounds, intrusted to her by Miss Violet Rossano for transmission to her father. If I could have seen any other way out of it I would not have taken this; but I had searched everywhere in my own mind, and until this one extraordinary proposition disclosed itself I had been able to find no road at all. I set down in the document I wrote my purpose in this strange proceeding; I signed and sealed it in an envelope, and put it in my pocket. Then I waited until the house was quite silent, and the last waiter had shuffled along the corridor. It was one o'clock in the morning before I was satisfied that the whole house had sunk to slumber, and then I marched straight to the room in which Lady Rollinson had last decisively refused to grant me a moment's interview. I remember very well that there were three pairs of boots outside the door, that they were all new and neat and fashionable, and that I thought, as I looked at them, that in contrast with my own heavy and mud-stained footgear they looked marvellously small and delicate. I turned the handle of the door, and, to my surprise, it yielded. I found myself within a dimly-lighted room, where the main illumination was refracted in a ghostly fashion from the white ceiling, and came from the street-lamps in the square below. I closed the door behind me, and found that I had light enough to make my way about without difficulty. The room was furnished in hotel fashion, and at one wall of it stood a ghostly piano, its form revealed by mere hints of polish on its surface here and there. On the opposite side was an escritoire with writing implements, and a few scattered sheets of paper. In the centre of the room was a table, and two or three disordered chairs were scattered about the apartment. Faint as the light was, a cursory glance about the place made it evident to me that so large an amount of money as the sum I meant to steal was hardly likely to be there. There were two doors opening out of the room apart from the one by which I had entered, and I was compelled to trust to chance in my choice of the one to be next opened. I cannot in the least tell why, but I walked without hesitation to the one on my left. I tried the handle, and the door resisted me. I tried again more strenuously, and I heard a voice from the other side cry out in sleepy tones, asking who was there. I knew the voice for Lady Rollinson's.

I know very well that I am telling a queer story, but I must tell it plainly. I set my sound knee against that door and threw my whole weight with it, and in a second, with a horrible wrench at the injured wrist and ankle, I stood inside the room. A faint scream greeted me, and I saw a white figure in the act of scrambling upright in the bed.

“You will do well to be quiet,” I said, and the figure sank back with a sort of moan and gurgle of astonishment. My own nerves were so overstrung already that I discerned a comedy in a situation sufficiently serious, and if I had given way to the impulse which assailed me I should have broken into a shout of unreasoning laughter. This was only a surface current, however, and I was as conscious of the serious import of my business as I am now in recalling the incidents of that incredible adventure.

“Your ladyship,” I said, with that odd sense of comedy still uppermost, “will regard this as rather a curious intrusion. You have forty thousand pounds belonging to Miss Rossano, and I am here to rob you of it. I propose to do it with all delicacy; but if your ladyship will be good enough to understand me, I mean to have the money.”

That she heard me I am sure, but the sole answer I received came in the shape of a muffled scream from underneath the bedclothes.

“The money,” I said, “is Violet's property, and to her I shall be perfectly willing to account for it. You must tell me where it is, and I shall take it, and shall keep it until she comes to claim it.” I waited, and no answer came at all. I was bubbling with subdued laughter, and fully alive at the same time to the serious side of my own position. “Where is the money?” I asked, in a voice as stern as I could make it. “Tell me, and tell me without delay!”

The blinds of the room were drawn, and even that faint illumination which had guided my steps in the sitting-room was missing here. I could see nothing but the dull gray gleam of the white counterpane and the hangings of the bed.

“Tell me at once,” I said. “You may ask me for any explanation in the morning, and I will give it Where is the money?”

I waited, and a dead silence reigned. I repeated my question once, and twice, and thrice: “Where is the money?” Then I heard a muffled voice say: “Here!” I groped forward in the darkness until my hand encountered hers, and took from her grasp a chamois-leather bag, which was all crisp to the touch above and solid below.

“That will do,” I said. “You have forced me to do this. You can raise an alarm if you will; I am willing to defend myself, and I have taken the only step that was left me to save the life of Violet's father.”

With that I withdrew, stumbling here and there against the furniture in the thick darkness of the room. The sitting-room beyond seemed light by comparison, and the corridor, with its solitary sickly gleam of gas, was as clear as it would have been in broad daylight. I ran to my own room, and flung the bag upon the table. Then I untied the cord which bound it at the neck, and counted its contents. There were twenty notes of the Bank of England for one thousand pounds each, tied up in one little ladylike bundle with a bit of narrow pink silk ribbon. There were thirty-eight notes of five hundred pounds each, tied in the same delicate and feminine fashion. Then there were notes of one hundred and of fifty, to the value of seven hundred pounds. And at the bottom of the bag was a great loose handful of gold, all in bright sovereigns and half-sovereigns, fresh from the Mint. I estimated this little mass of coined gold at three hundred pounds; but just as I was in the act of counting it, the ring of a bell in violent motion tingled through the midnight silence of the house, and I paused. I heard a door thrown open, and an urgent voice at an incredible pitch shrieked, “Thieves!” “Murder!” Then the bell sounded again and yet again, until I heard it fall with a crash upon the stone floor of the corridor below. The wild voice, once loosed, went on shrieking, “Murder!” “Thieves!” I hurried the money I had stolen back into the bag, tied it as I had found it, and awaited the result with perfect equanimity. In less than half a minute doors were banging all over the house, and hurrying feet charged up-stairs and down-stairs. The voice of alarm never ceased for a moment. I stepped out into the corridor, and faced the manager, who was the first man to arrive upon the field.

“Lady Rollinson is alarmed,” I said; “you had better send some of your women to her. I have just robbed her of forty thousand pounds, and the money is in my room.”

The man glared at me with an expression of profound astonishment. Words were utterly beyond him, and he could only gasp at me.

“Tell Lady Rollinson,” I continued, “that the money is quite safe. I shall surrender it to Miss Rossano, to whom it belongs, but to no other person. Now go!”

The corridor by this time was full of half-clad people, who were staring in each other's faces with the bewilderment natural to startled sleep. I returned to my own room, closing the door behind me, and awaited the progress of events. I heard excited voices outside, but could make out nothing of their purport. Thirty or forty people made a very babel of noise outside my door; but by-and-by Hinge came in, wide-eyed, in a very short night-shirt.

“I have saved the count,” I said, very quietly. “There is the money which was to have betrayed him.”

“Good Lord, sir,” Hinge cried, “how did you get hold of it?”

“I stole it,” I responded; “it was the only thing to do.” While Hinge still stared at me in wordless amazement the outer door was flung open, and the manager appeared, ushering in a policeman.

“This is the man!” he cried.

“Yes,” I answered, “I have not the slightest doubt that I am the man you want. You are an officer of the police?” The man said “Yes,” bustling forward with a brace of handcuffs in his hand. “I claim this money,” I said, laying my hand upon the bag which rested on the table. “There need be no doubt about the matter, officer. I have become illegally possessed of this, but I claim it, and I shall surrender it only to the hands of your inspector. He will keep it until its rightful owner comes to receive it.”

“Lady Rollinson claims it!” cried the manager.

“Lady Rollinson,” I answered, “has no more right to it than I have. This money is the property of Miss Rossano. It must be handed to her, and I have taken it in order that it may be put into the hands of the legal authorities until such time as she appears to claim it.”

“I must trouble you to go with me, sir,” said the officer, advancing with the handcuffs in his hand.

“I will go with you,” I answered, “and I will go quite quietly on one condition: you will take charge of this.”

“You bet I will!” the officer answered, facetiously; and I saw a glance pass between him and the manager which said “madman,” as plainly as the spoken word itself.

I had done too much already to permit myself to be foiled at the end. I took the bag of money in both hands, and held out my wrists towards the officer.

“You will handcuff me,” I said, “if you think that necessary. I shall submit to anything which you conceive to be within the limits of your duty. But I shall not part with this until I meet your inspector.”

The man answered nothing, but he fettered me clumsily enough, keeping so wary an eye upon my face meanwhile that he manipulated the handcuffs without guidance, and pinched me in fixing them. I winced at this, and he got back from me as if he thought I was about to strike him.

“Ha! would ye?” he said, and laid a hand upon his truncheon. I stood still, with the handcuffs still dangling from my wrists, and the man, reassured by my manner, completed his task. The door was open, and any number of dishevelled heads and staring eyes crowded in at us.

“Let somebody find a cab,” I said. “Lady Rollinson is naturally a good deal disturbed, and will not wish to make a charge to-night. She can appear against me in the morning, and in the meantime we can see that the money is made safe.”

“Make no mistake about that,” said the officer. “We'll see that the money is kept safe. You hand that bag over to me; I'll take charge of that.”

“No,” I answered; “it goes into your inspector's hands. You can send for him, if you like, or you can take me to him.”

On a sudden I looked up, and there, among the faces at the door, I caught sight of Roncivalli and Brunow.

“Gentlemen,” I said, “I take you to witness why I have done this thing. Here is the money which was to have been handed to you to-morrow. I have told the Brotherhood. I spared you once,” I added, to Brunow; “you may go now and take your chance in earnest.”

Roncivalli was a man of daring, and had more than once given proofs of courage; but he turned white at my words, and Brunow shrank back in the crowd with a face all ghastly gray, with his teeth gleaming behind his trembling lips. Through all the hurry and bustle of the scene the hotel manager was vainly urging the startled occupants of the house to return to their own chambers. Then, with a sudden leap of the heart, I heard a voice outside:

“Be good enough to make way for me.”

“Come along!” cried the officer; “hand me that bag, and have done with it. I know my duty, and I've got force enough behind me.”

“Wait a moment,” I answered; “here is the owner of the money. Make way for Miss Rossano, and drive all those curious people away.”

I saw the crowd divide, and Violet came in, looking about her wonderingly. I stood there manacled, holding out the stolen money in my extended hands. She gave one swift glance of astonishment, and closed the door, leaving us alone, except for the officer and the hotel manager. Hinge, conscious of his dishabille, had retreated at the moment of her entrance.

“My aunt has been robbed, John,” she said, looking at me with wondering eyes— “robbed of forty thousand pounds!”

“And I,” I answered, “am the thief, and here is the money.”

“You the thief!” She fixed me with her eyes that have always seemed like stars of fate to me, and I saw a shadow of dreadful pain and wonder on her face. “You the thief!” she repeated.

“Yes,” I answered; “I stole this money from Lady Rollinson five minutes ago.” What with the certainty of triumph in my purpose, the surety of being immediately understood, and the joy of seeing her so unexpectedly again, I laughed outright. “I hand you back your own, dear. Take charge of it till you have heard my story. Sit down, and I will tell you everything.”

“Is this your property, mum?” the officer asked, setting both hands on the bag as I set it on the table.

“I believe so,” said Violet. “I gave the sum of forty thousand pounds into the charge of my aunt, Lady Rollinson, yesterday morning?”

“Then of course,” said the policeman, “you give the person in charge?”

Violet looked at me with dancing eyes, and never in all my life have I known such pride and joy as that glance afforded me. There I stood before her, taken red-handed in the act, handcuffed, and openly confessing with my own lips my own deed; but any doubt of me was impossible to her true heart. I sounded at that moment the superb loyalty of her nature, and my pride in her seemed to lift me into heaven.

“In charge?” she asked, with a little tender, mirthful tremor in her voice. “No, I shall not give the gentleman in charge. Tell me what it means, John.”

I told her first, briefly and rapidly, the story of poor old Ruffiano's betrayal, and how I had let Brunow go. Then I told her of Hinge's recognition of Sacovitch, of the meeting in Richmond Park, of what Hinge had heard at the cottage; and, finally, of what we had both heard together. I had called for Hinge at the very beginning of my narrative, and by the time I came to his share in it he was present, hastily muffled in an overcoat, and divided between a desire to stand immovably at attention and a contradictory attempt furtively to smooth his hair, which rayed out all round his head in disorderly spikes, and gave him a look of having been frightened out of his life.

“But why,” she asked me, “did you take such an extraordinary action? Why not communicate with me?”

Then I had to tell her the story of that wretched Constance, which would have been an awkward thing to do under any circumstances, but was made more awkward still by the presence of the hotel manager and the constable. I went through it, however, without flinching, and I told her most of what has been set down in the latter part of these pages, though of course with less detail than I have given here. She scarcely interrupted me by a word, and when I had done she drew her purse from her pocket, and taking from it a sovereign, tendered the coin to the constable.

“You have done your duty, officer,” she said. “But you understand that your services will not be required any longer.”

The constable took the coin and pouched it.

“Do I understand, mum,” he asked, with a droll stolidity, “that you're satisfied with the prisoner's story?”

“Yes,” returned Violet; “I am quite satisfied. You will not be wanted any more.”

The man took out a key from his pocket, and unlocked the handcuffs which confined my wrists. He said not a word, but looked at me in a mute admiration and wonder which spoke volumes. He and the hotel manager withdrew together, and I sent Hinge to bed.

“Suppose,” said Violet, “that I had been away, as you thought I was, you would have gone to prison.”

“Not for long,” I answered. “I should have told my story, and you would have believed it all the same.”

“I should have believed it all the same,” she said. “Do you know, John, I should think myself and the whole world all mad together rather than believe that you were not true and honest.” A second later she laughed and blushed divinely. “As if there were any need of saying that!” she cried, and then and there she gave me the first kiss I had not had to pray for.

She had endured the whole strange position until then with the pluck and steadfastness of a man, but there she broke down and cried a little, realizing all the perils which had beset her father, and his strange escape from it.

“We will take the money ourselves,” she said, when she had recovered from this natural emotion. “There shall be no further danger of the poor darling being trapped by those wicked Austrians if we can help it.”

And there I saw an inspiration, and hailed it with delight, and took immediate advantage of it.

“My darling,” I said, “we can't travel together by ourselves, and Lady Rollinson, I am afraid, is hardly likely to consent to be my fellow-traveller for some time to come.”

“I hadn't thought of that,” she answered. “Of course we can't travel together. But will you go alone, or shall I? I could take my maid, and I am used to travelling.”

“Let us go together, my dear,” I urged her. “Let us never be parted again. Let us give no more chances to well-meaning but foolish old ladies to divide us.”

She put me aside, and found a host of reasons; but though I am not strong in argument, I managed to combat and confute them all, and she said “Yes” at last. And so I not only turned burglar in her cause, but won my wife by it; for within five days we were married by special license.

Thus this queer story comes to an end, or, rather, like all the stories I have read and heard, glides off into a new one. Everybody knows the history of the last glorious war for Italian independence. I was in the thick of it, I thank Heaven, and so was the Count Rossano, and so was good old Hinge; and while we marched and fought, my dear Violet took her share; for there was no ministering hand in the camp hospitals more constant or more tender, no voice and face better loved and known than hers. We are old folks now, and have lived to prove each other as only married people can; but the greatest pride I have is that at this hour she is no more assured of the righteousness of my intent than she was at the instant when she found me with confession on my lips and every sign of guilt openly displayed about me.

Love is a great treasure. Truth and loyalty are among man's greatest possessions. But the truest solace to the human soul is perfect trust.

THE END

By DAVID CHRISTIE MURRAY.

Mr. Christie Murray is a kindly satirist who evidently delights in the analysis of character, and who deals shrewdly but gently with the frailties of our nature.... There is a spontaneity in his pen which is extremely fascinating.—Saturday Review, London.

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