A Coin of Edward VII: A Detective Story

Dane sprang forward and caught her dress. He looked terrified. "Do not leave me," he entreated. "You know that I love you, and that for your sake I have betrayed a man who has done much for me. You promised to help me."

"I shall do so," she answered, returning to her seat. "I shall see that you are not arrested, and – "

"Pardon me, Princess, it may be necessary to – "

"Mr. Steel, this man shall not be arrested," she said, stamping her foot.

"If I am," cried Dane resolutely, "I shall say nothing. Only to save myself will I speak."

Ware addressed a few hurried words to the detective, who nodded reluctantly. It was Giles who spoke. "I promise that you shall not be put in gaol, Dane," he said, "but you must tell the truth."

"If I do so I am in danger of my life."

"Then it is not gratitude that keeps you silent?"

"Gratitude!" said Dane, flinging back his head, "what have I to be grateful for? Mr. Franklin – "

"You mean Denham," interposed Olga quickly.

"Denham!" echoed Steel, "that is the father of the governess."

"No," said Giles, "Anne's father is dead. This man Denham pretended to play the part, and she has only lately been undeceived. Also, Mr. Steel, you must know that there is no Walter Franklin. The man at the Priory is the scoundrel you know as Wilson, the head of the Scarlet Cross Society and the murderer of Miss Kent."

"Not that last," interposed Dane, while Steel dropped into a seat transfixed with astonishment. "Denham did not kill her. He does not know who did. He told me so."

"He would tell you anything to save himself," said Olga.

"No," replied Dane, "he tells me all his secrets. At one time I should have died before I revealed them, but Denham has treated me cruelly. I owe him no gratitude. For years I slaved for him. I did all that a man could do for his sake. What reward have I got? He has beaten me like a dog. He has left me to starve. He has delivered me up to those members of our society who hate me. Since he came in for this money – "

"Wrongfully," put in Giles.

"As you say, sir – wrongfully. But since he became George Franklin and a wealthy man, he told me plainly that he washed his hands of me. He gave me a small sum, and sent me to America, promising an annuity. It was not paid. I wrote – I threatened. He laughed at me. So I have come back from America to punish him." He turned to Olga and continued vehemently, "Do you think that I would have told you what I did, Princess, had I not hated the man? No. Not even for the love I bear you would I have done that. You sent me to Mr. Steel at Bournemouth. I knew that he was a detective, and went prepared to tell all about Denham's wickedness, even although I incriminated myself."

"But you did not do so," said Steel dryly; "you ran away."

"And why? Because you mentioned that you suspected Miss Denham of a crime. I held my tongue until I could see some chance of proving her innocence. Had I told you all I knew then you would have had her arrested, and let her know the shame of the man – her father."

"He is not her father," said Olga again.

"I know nothing about that," replied Dane, sitting down; "he always said that he was her father, and I had no reason to believe otherwise. But I am glad to hear that he is not. She is too good and pure to be the daughter of such a man. I have known her for years. She is an angel. She nursed me through an illness. I would do anything to prove my gratitude for her sake. I held my hand from harming Denham because I thought he was her father, and – "

"You need do so no longer," cried Ware, whose face was bright when he heard this praise of Anne; "she is the daughter of George Franklin, of Jamaica. Denham assumed the name to get the Powell money."

"Then," cried Dane, flinging wide his arms in a most dramatic manner, "all I know you shall know. I turn King's evidence."

"The best way to save your own skin," said Steel dryly; "you are an Irishman, are you not?"

Dane nodded. "Born in New York," said he.

"Humph!" murmured Steel, but so low that only Giles heard him, "all the better. You would betray your own mother if it suited you."

Meanwhile Olga was speaking to the man. "The first thing you have to confess," she said, "is about Miss Denham. Where is she?"

"With Mr. Morley."

Giles uttered an exclamation. "What has he got to do with her?"

"I don't know. He came up to town yesterday evening."

"About nine or ten?" asked Giles quickly. He remembered his feeling of being watched at the Liverpool Street Station.

"Yes," assented Dane, "he came up to see me. He said that he had a message for Miss Denham from her father. Of course I thought then that Denham was really her father. I asked Morley why he did not deliver the message himself, for he knew that Miss Denham had come to town with the Princess Karacsay."

"How the deuce did he know that?" wondered Giles.

"Well, you see, sir, Mr. Morley was a detective at one time, and he always finds out what he desires."

"True enough," put in Steel, "Joe Bart is very clever."

"He appears to have been extremely so in this case," said Giles dryly.

"Morley told me," continued Mark, "that Miss Denham knew he suspected her of the murder, and she would not let him see her. If she knew he had come to look her up that she would run away thinking he came to have her arrested. He asked me to tell her to come to a rendezvous near the Abbey without mentioning his name. I thought this was reasonable enough, and wrote a letter."

"And I went with Anne," said Olga. "Where did you go?"

"When you left us I told her that Morley had a message from her father. She said nothing to me denying the relationship, but she was afraid of Morley. I told her that he had promised not to do her any harm. She was still doubtful. Then Morley appeared. He had been close at hand, and he explained that Denham was very ill. He wished to see Miss Denham and make reparation for his wickedness. There was no time to be lost, Morley said, and he asked her to come at once. She hesitated for a time, and then went with Morley. She told me to wait till the Princess Olga came back and tell her this."

"Why did you not?"

"Because Morley whispered that I was not to do so. I went away in another direction."

"Then why do you tell now?" asked Ware bluntly.

"I wish to be revenged on Denham," said Dane fiercely. "He treated me like a dog, and he shall be bitten by me. Curse him!"

Olga walked to the door. "I shall go now," she said, seeing that Dane was becoming excited and fearing a scene. "You can tell Mr. Steel and Mr. Ware everything, Mark. When Denham is caught and Anne is free, you shall come to Vienna with me. My father shall take you into his service," and with this she held out her hand to him in a regal manner. Dane kissed it as though it had been the hand of a queen, and when she was out of the room, turned to the two men with a shining face.

"I am ready to tell you everything," he said.

"And betray those who have done you a kindness," muttered Steel. "You would not be an Irish-American if you didn't. I know the type."

Quite unaware of this uncomplimentary speech, Dane glanced into a near mirror and ran his slim hand through his hair. He cast such a complacent look at his reflection that Giles could not forbear a smile. The man was a compound of treachery, courage, and vanity. He had some virtues and not a few vices, and was one of those irresponsible creatures who develop into Anarchists. But that the Scarlet Cross Society had attracted his talents in the direction of a kind of coast piracy, he would without doubt have been employed in blowing up kings or public buildings. Giles thought with a grim smile that if Olga took this creature to Austria, Prince Karacsay would have some work to keep him in order. Dane was not the man to settle to a dull, respectable existence or to earn his bread without a little excitement. A dangerous man, and the more dangerous from his enormous vanity and utter want of moral principle.

Having made Steel promise not to arrest him, nor to make any use of his revelations to endanger his own liberty, Dane cheerfully proceeded to betray those he had sworn secrecy to. Wicked as was the gang, and evil as was the purpose of its formation, Giles could not help feeling a contempt for the traitor. There should be honor amongst thieves, thought Ware. But Dane did not believe in the proverb, and explained himself quite complacently.

"I met Denham – as he usually called himself many years ago in Italy – at Milan," said Dane; "he had a house there. His daughter – let us call Miss Anne his daughter, although I am glad to hear she is not – lived with him. She was then about fifteen and was at school at a convent. She and I got on very well. I adored her for her beauty and kindness of heart. I was starving for want of money, as my remittances had not arrived from America. Denham took me in. I made myself useful, so there was no charity about the matter."

"Still, he took you in," suggested Giles, "that was kind."