A Coin of Edward VII: A Detective Story

Giles shook his head. He was not going to betray Anne to her enemy, as Steel in his detective capacity assuredly was. "I wish I did," he said. "I have been at Rickwell trying to find out things. I'll tell you of my discoveries later. Meantime – "

"You want to hear about mine," cried the detective eagerly and full of his subject. "Well, the murder can wait. I'll get to the bottom of that, Mr. Ware. But I am now quite of your opinion. Miss Denham is innocent. This man Wilson killed the girl."

"I knew that Walter Franklin was guilty," cried Ware.

"I said Wilson," was Steel's reply.

"I forgot; you don't know about Wilson alias Franklin. I'll tell you later. Go on, Steel. I'm all attention."

"Oh! So his real name is Franklin. I never knew that," said Steel, drawing his hand down his chin. "Well, Mr. Ware, I have been to all the ports in the kingdom, and I have learned that wherever that yacht – she's a steam yacht —The Red Cross has been, burglaries have been committed. At last I managed to lay my hand on a member of the gang, and made him speak up."

"What gang?"

"A gang of burglars headed by the man I call Wilson and your Franklin – the Scarlet Cross Society. They own that yacht, and steam from port to port committing robberies. A splendid idea, and Wilson's own."

Then he unfolded to the astonished Giles a long career of villany on the part of the said Wilson. The young man shuddered as the vile category of crime was unrolled. It was horrible that such a wretch as Walter Franklin should be the father of Anne. But for all her parent's vices, Giles never swerved from the determination to marry the girl. He was not one of those who think that the sins of the father should be visited on the child.

"What is the name of the man who confessed all this?" asked Giles.

"Mark Dane."

Ware started. That was the name of the man Anne had mentioned as her father's secretary. However, he said nothing, and when Steel requested him to tell all he knew about Wilson, he related everything save that he was Anne's father. Steel listened attentively, chin on hand. When Giles finished he nodded.

"I'll go down and see this brother," he remarked. "If he hates the man whom we think committed the crime so much, he will be anxious to assist us in securing him. I wonder why that governess helped Wilson, or rather Walter Franklin, to escape? Of course, I believe that she is his daughter. Now don't look so angry, Mr. Ware. If you remember, when I talked with you at the Princess Karacsay's I said you could draw your own inferences. That is what I meant." Here the detective stopped and peered into Giles' face. "You don't appear to be so surprised as I thought you would be."

"Are you sure that Miss Denham is Wilson's daughter?"

"No, I am not yet sure. But if I can make this Mark Dane speak further, I'll be certain. He knows all about the matter. Unfortunately he is gone. I caught him at Bournemouth, and after he told me a portion of the truth he managed to get away. It's a long story how he fooled me. I'll tell it to you another time. But the worst of it is," resumed Steel dolefully, "that Dane will warn Wilson and he will get away. All the same, now you have told me Wilson has a brother I may be able to find out something in that quarter. The brother is all right?"

"He is an honest man, if that is what you mean."

"H'm!" said Steel sceptically. "I don't see how there can be any honest member of the Franklin family."

"Do you include Miss Denham?" asked Giles furiously.

"Well, sir, she sails under false colors."

"She can explain that."

"I hope she will be able to when I catch her."

"Steel, I won't stand this!" cried Ware, much agitated.

The detective thought for a moment. "See here, sir," he remarked, "we won't discuss this matter until I have caught Dane."

"How do you hope to catch him?"

"I have laid a trap for him at the Princess Karacsay's flat," said Steel quietly. "Oh, don't look so astonished. This Dane was one of the attendants at some concert where the Princess sang. He fell in love with her, and has been bothering her with letters. I have arranged that he shall call at the flat. I'll be waiting for him."

"It's odd that the Princess should know about this man," said Ware.

Steel looked at him queerly. "It is odd," he said; "and to my mind it is more than a coincidence. Princess Olga is a clever woman. I have to be very careful with her."

"Do you mean to say that she knows anything?" asked Giles.

"I am sure she does. I believe she could explain the whole business; but I can't find out how she came to be connected with it. Well, Mr. Ware, I must be off. When I see Dane and get the truth out of him, I'll see you again. I hope, for your sake, that Miss Denham is not the daughter of this man, but from a few words let drop by Dane I fear she is. At all events, sir, you can set your mind at rest about her being guilty of murder. She is innocent. The father did it."

Giles departed, much comforted by this statement. He knew well enough that Anne was the daughter of Wilson, alias Denham, alias Franklin, and he shuddered again to think of his pure, good Anne being mixed up with a man who was hand and glove with the criminal classes and a criminal himself. However, he put this matter out of his mind for the moment, and drove to the Westminster flat. If Anne was there, he determined to take her away to a place of safety, and defy Steel and Walter Franklin to do their worst.

He went up the stairs, and was told that Mademoiselle Olga was not at home. He was about to inquire after Anne, when the elder Princess, looking pale and anxious, appeared at the door of the drawing-room. She beckoned him in and shut the door.

"Have you seen Olga?" she inquired.

"No, Princess. Is she not with you?"

"She is not," wailed the woman, throwing herself on the couch. "Late last night she went out with Anne. A summons came – some letter – and Anne had to go. Olga insisted on accompanying her. They said they would be back at midnight; but they have not reappeared. I am distracted, Mr. Ware. What shall I do? Where are they?"

"Who was the letter from?"

"I don't know. It was for Anne, and – "

"You call Miss Denham Anne," said Giles abruptly; "and you brought her here. What do you know of her?"

"Everything," said the Princess, sitting up. "In spite of Olga I must tell you the truth. Anne Denham is my daughter!"

CHAPTER XXI

A STORY OF THE PAST

This communication was so extraordinary and unexpected that Giles thought the Princess must be out of her mind. But although overcome with emotion, she was sane enough, and seeing his astonishment repeated her statement that Anne Denham was her daughter. The young man sat down to collect his thoughts.

"Do you mean to say that she is Mademoiselle Olga's sister?"

"Her half-sister," corrected the Princess, sobbing. "I never thought I should find her again, and like this. It's too dreadful!" And in strange contrast to her usual indolent demeanor, she wrung her hands.

Giles was still bewildered. "And you – were you the wife of Walter Franklin?" he stammered helplessly.

"There is no Walter Franklin," replied the woman, drying her eyes and sitting up. "George Franklin is Anne's father. He was my husband."

"But you are the wife of Prince Karacsay."

"Certainly. I eloped with him from Kingstown in Jamaica, and George divorced me. I afterwards married the Prince."

"Then the man at the Priory is your first husband?"

"No!" cried she vigorously. "He is not George Franklin."

"He calls himself so," muttered Ware, quite puzzled.