"Better to tell father also. Perhaps he can protect you from your enemies. I am sure father never will betray your trust."

Sir Donald was called, and with Esther heard the confession.

"My name is William Dodge. Yes, I am the man who commenced that villainous suit against poor Alice Webster. Don't look so hard at me! I did not kill her! I never murdered Oswald Langdon.

"It is so hard to be poor and out of work. To think of Mary and the four children without food or clothing! Why, I was so desperate at times that I would have murdered for money! What was the life of one rich, useless old man to that of my Mary and our starving children? But I was not to be a murderer. No, old Pierre Lanier saved me from that crime.

Bad as he is, that must be said in his favor. How scared the old rascal was when I fired! He spoke so strangely. Said: 'My good man, you are surely mistaken, but what can I do for you? Here are some coins, all I have with me, but come along and you shall have more.' I had fired at him, but missed my aim. There was no one in sight in that deserted part of Calcutta. I mistrusted his motives, but needing money, went with him.

He stopped, and we sat down on a deserted bench by the side of an old vacant house. What a sly, insinuating old villain he was! Telling me that there must be some reason for my strange action in shooting, but that he would help me if I trusted him.

"I told him of my poverty and helpless family. He seemed to pity us, and said: 'I do not blame you in the least. I admire your spirit. What can you do?'

"I told him that my former work had been bookkeeping, but that I had been discharged for dishonesty, through the connivance of another employe, who stole the money and turned suspicion on me.

"Old Pierre Lanier then became very sympathetic. I could make a neat little fortune and provide for my family's immediate wants without committing murder. He would commit any crime before those depending on him for support should suffer. If I would come with him, we would talk it over.

"I expressed fear that he would surrender me to the police.

"'Is not your revolver full of cartridges? Here, take my pistol. Soon as you see me attempting any treachery, shoot to kill. My good friend, I have use for you. If you can serve me, your family shall be well cared for, and I will find more money for you to-night.'

"With this strange a.s.surance, so positively stated, I went with him. We entered his room, and the lights were turned on. Bringing pen, paper, and ink, he sat down by a table and wrote several names.

"'Please copy these just like originals.'

"I did as requested.

"'Good! Now these,' handing me paper with other signatures.

"'Very good! Please copy the body of the papers.'

"Then he told me of his wish to procure conveyances, purporting to come from the persons whose signatures I had copied, of property situated in London. This property was in the possession of a girl there. I was to draft these, and sign the proper names to them as grantors and witnesses. We would go to London, and at the right time begin the action for the possession of the property. He did not imagine the case ever would come to trial, but I must wait until advised to quit. My pay would be one thousand pounds and all expenses. He said the girl's t.i.tle was defective, but that easily could be remedied. In the mean time my family must be provided for. 'Take these to bind the bargain.'

"What could I do but accept the offer and the money? It is easy for those having life's comforts and luxuries to be honest. What idea have such of temptation's power? Look in haggard, despairing face of wife and hear the cries of hungry children! Then be honest! Refuse to stain your soul for bread! I tell you, hunger has no soul!"

Overpowered by pa.s.sionate memories, he fell back exhausted. Tears were streaming down the cheeks of Esther. Sir Donald's vision was obscured by mists. He turned away his face.

Punish such criminal? It is more likely that both these would incur liability as "accessories after the fact."

In a few minutes strength for further confessions returned.

"I often met Pierre and Paul Lanier in Calcutta. Neither of them told me directly that Paul desired to marry Alice Webster, but I was sure that this was the wish of both. I thought that if the marriage occurred, there would be a dismissal of the action, otherwise it would be pressed.

In this I was but partly right. They never intended the case should be tried. It was begun to bring about the marriage. When Alice was drowned and the case was set for trial, it had to be dismissed. Paul and his father were with me when I told the solicitors to quit.

"I heard Paul tell his father before Alice Webster's death that they would never hear from that girl again. She was at the bottom of the lake. Pierre Lanier replied:

"'It is bad business, Paul, but can't be helped. Better an accident than intentionally, my boy.'

"They never knew I heard their talk. I suspected some foul play, but was surprised to have Alice and the rest of you pointed out after your arrival in London.

"Paul, his father, and I often met in London, but without being seen together. After it was rumored that Alice and Oswald Langdon had been drowned in the Thames, I felt much worried. That same evening of the night when they disappeared I heard Paul tell his father of the proposed boat-ride, but that Oswald and the two girls were going. They agreed that Paul should trail them and learn what he could. Paul told his father what he had heard in the park. Both seemed much enraged, but Pierre Lanier cautioned Paul to be patient and not lose his temper.

"'Whatever happens, he must not marry her!' said Paul.

"'That's right, my boy; but remember the lake, and keep cool. Make no rash breaks next time.'

"I was present at this conversation, but appeared not to notice their subdued talk. My curiosity was aroused by their suggestive remarks. I left about dusk. Soon after, Paul came out. I kept out of his sight, but watched him closely. He stopped beyond where the boats were. I watched at a suitable distance. Soon Oswald and Alice came down to the stream, and procuring a boat, rowed up the river. Paul followed them. Very curious to know the result, I yet feared for my own safety. If he intended any violence, I would be safer elsewhere. It would be dangerous for him to learn that I knew of his crime. He would find an effective way of silencing a witness. Besides, I might be suspected.

"These thoughts determined me to return. My curiosity was sufficiently aroused for me to shadow the neighborhood of Paul's room. My own room was in another block, but where I could see Paul if he came back the most direct route from the river. Part of the time I sat by the darkened window, looking out in the direction of the stream; at other times I strolled up and down the street. Then I would stand in the dark hallway.

"About three hours after his disappearance up the sh.o.r.e of the river I heard hurried steps, and slipped out into the hallway at entrance of the stairs and watched. Paul walked rapidly by, and I followed at safe distance. He soon entered his room. I returned and retired, but felt that some fearful crime had been committed.

"Next morning I bought daily papers, to learn if anything had happened to Oswald or Alice. Feeling uneasy, I haunted the neighborhood of Alice's home, but saw no signs. In the afternoon I visited the point where the boat had been taken. The keeper remarked:

"'What could have happened to that good-lookin' jay and bloomin'

sweetheart of his'n? I doesn't care how much they spoons, but I wants my boat.'

"Much excited, I was walking around, wondering what had happened, when you two were seen coming. Feeling ashamed to meet the friends of the girl against whom had been brought the villainous suit, I moved up the stream to where there would be a good view of your actions. Pretty soon both of you and the keeper started up the river in a boat. I then knew neither Oswald nor Alice had returned. That they had been killed by Paul Lanier I was now sure.

"A sense of indirect complicity in this crime oppressed my heart. I skulked away and hid in my room. Uneasy there, I went over to Paul's quarters, but he was not in. His father was there, and seemed nervous.

The old man asked if I had heard any news, adding that he had not been in the street yet. I noticed some of that morning's papers upon the table. He watched me suspiciously, but I acted unconcerned. I affected not to notice his nervous manner, but noted all. Listening intently to every sound, he would answer me mechanically, then would get up, slowly yawn, and shuffle toward the window fronting the street. Glancing each way, he then would be seated. His questions, answers, remarks, pauses, and whole manner confirmed me in the conviction that he had been informed of some act of Paul's resulting in the death of the missing parties. He finally became quiet, and made no responses to my talk. I knew he wished to be alone, and rose to go. Following to the door, he was extremely polite, begging me to call again next day, sure. As I left, the door closed quickly, the bolt was thrust, and the lock clicked. I waited near, but where he could not see me.

"In about fifteen minutes a stooped form, with snow-white, flowing beard, feebly emerged from the hallway. Bending over a heavy cane, this old man looked through large colored gla.s.ses up, down, and across the street. He slowly started in an opposite direction from where I was standing. After he had turned the corner, I walked rapidly around the block, and saw the old man still pegging away, watching everything along his path. Soon his steps quickened, and I was compelled to walk rapidly.

Finally he turned a corner, entering a narrow alley extending between rows of low buildings. I crossed to the other side of the street, and pa.s.sed down to the alley, but the old man had disappeared.

"I was sure that either Pierre or Paul Lanier, in this disguise, was now hiding in one of these low buildings along the alley. Though much excited, I knew better than longer to continue my stay in that quarter.

I returned to watch the entrance to the room occupied by Paul and his father.

"In about two hours this same stooping figure slowly came up the street and entered the hallway. I was sure that Pierre Lanier had visited Paul, and was keeping him posted.

"That evening I went down to the boathouse and learned about the finding of Oswald's hat. The boat had been found. I felt creepy, and that night retired early.

"Next morning's papers told of the disappearances. In the afternoon I went over to Paul's room. Both were in, and greeted me with great apparent pleasure. They wondered why I did not come sooner. After a while Paul carelessly asked me if I had read any of the morning papers.

Neither he nor his father had been on the street, except for meals. I told him that there had been considerable in the papers about our mutual friends. Here were the accounts. I expressed doubt of their correctness, and carelessly remarked:

"'Guess it's some reporter's fake.

"Paul read, and seemed greatly surprised. His father looked it all over, and wondered if there were any truth in the reports. They suggested that if it should turn out true, we must consider well our course of action.

Suspicion might point to me as the one interested in the death of Alice Webster. My suit recently commenced against her might be construed as interesting me in having the girl put out of the way.

"I was terribly shocked. They continued to arouse my fears until I was frantic. Both spoke of this mysterious disappearance as most unfortunate for me under the circ.u.mstances. It seemed to me there was little chance to escape. Old Pierre Lanier thought I must remain in seclusion until matters cleared up. It would not do for me to be seen. Perhaps if I kept out of sight, no one would think of me in connection with this affair.

They advised me to change my room to a certain quarter of the city, and remain there until Paul procured suitable disguise.

"I was paralyzed with fear, and did as they told me. Going back to my room, I waited until Paul entered. He came in without knocking. I was startled by the appearance of a strange man with slouch hat and heavy brown whiskers. He removed the disguise. I was told to pack my valise and trunk and get ready to move. A false beard was handed me with some old clothes. Paul told me to put them on. Giving the name of my new quarters, and cautioning me to remain there until he called, Paul ran downstairs and brought up the man who was to remove my baggage. Telling me the man had his directions and would know just where to go, Paul left. After a roundabout trip we reached my destination. I was surprised to see the driver enter the same alley down which had pa.s.sed on the previous day that strange old man. With feelings of dread I followed up a back stairway into a low room, where my stuff was deposited.

"'This is the place,' said the driver, and left.

"Soon after, Paul entered in the same disguise. This, he said, was to be my home until further arrangements could be made.

"'Father and I will be over every day and report. I will show you where to board near here. Your name is to be Joshua Wilkins.'