The Man Who Knew

"Oh, I am so frightened!" said the girl, with a shudder. "If he knows I have been here he'll—"

"You have nothing to be frightened about Just sit here for one moment."

He went into the next room, which had a branch telephone connection, and called up May. She was out, and he left an urgent message that she was to come, bringing Jasper with her, as soon as she returned. When he got back to his office, he found the girl as he had left her, sitting on the edge of a big armchair, plucking nervously at her handkerchief.

"I have heard about you," she said. "He mentioned you once—before we went to that Sussex cottage with Mr. Crawley. They were going to bring another lady, and I was to look after her, but he—"

"Who is 'he'?" asked Mr. Mann.

"My husband," said the girl.

"How long have you been married?" demanded the little man.

"I ran away with him a long time ago," she said. "It has been an awful life; it was Mr. Crawley's idea. He told me that if I married Mr. Merrill he would take me to see my mother and Jasper. But he was so cruel—"

She shuddered again.

"We've been living in furnished houses all over the country, and I have been alone most of the time, and he would not let me go out by myself or do anything."

She spoke in a subdued, monotonous tone that betrayed the nearness of a bad, nervous breakdown.

"What does your husband call himself?"

"Why, Frank Merrill," said the girl in astonishment; "that's his name. Mr. Crawley always told me his name was Merrill. Isn't it?"

Mr. Mann shook his head.

"My poor girl," he said sympathetically, "I am afraid you have been grossly deceived. The man you married as Merrill is an impostor."

"An impostor?" she faltered.

Mr. Mann nodded.

"He has taken a good man's name, and I am afraid has committed abominable crimes in that man's name," said the investigator gently. "I hope we shall be able to rid you and the world of a great villain."

Still she stared uncomprehendingly.

"He has always been a liar," she said slowly. "He lied naturally and acted things so well that you believed him. He told me things which I know aren't true. He told me my brother was dead, but I saw his name in the paper the other day, and that is why I came to you. Do you know Jasper?"

She was as naïve and as unsophisticated as a schoolgirl, and it made the little man's heart ache to hear the plaintive monotony of tone and see the trembling lip.

"I promise you that you will meet your brother," he said.

"I have run away from Frank," she said suddenly. "Isn't that a wicked thing to do? I could not stand it. He struck me again yesterday, and he pretends to be a gentleman. My mother used to say that no gentleman ever treats a woman badly, but Frank does."

"Nobody shall treat you badly any more," said Mr. Mann.

"I hate him!" she went on with sudden vehemence. "He sneers and says he's going to get another wife, and—oh!"

He saw her hands go up to her face, and saw her staring eyes turn to the door in affright.

Frank Merrill stood in the doorway, and looked at her without recognition.

"I am sorry," he said. "You have a visitor?"

"Come in," said Mr. Mann. "I am awfully glad you called."

The girl had risen to her feet, and was shrinking back to the wall.

"Do you know this lady?"

Frank looked at her keenly.

"Why, yes, that's Sergeant Smith's daughter," he said, and he smiled. "Where on earth have you been?"

"Don't touch me!" she breathed, and put her hands before her, warding him off.

He looked at her in astonishment, and from her to Mann. Then he looked back at the girl, his brow wrinkled in perplexity.

"This girl," said Mr. Mann, "thinks she is your wife."

"My wife?" said Frank, and looked again at her.

"Is this a bad joke or something—do you say that I am your husband?" he asked.

She did not speak, but nodded slowly.

He sat down in a chair and whistled.

"This rather complicates matters," he said blankly, "but perhaps you can explain?"

"I only know what the girl has told me," said Mr. Mann, shaking his head. "I am afraid there is a terrible mistake here."

Frank turned to the girl.

"But did your husband look like me?"

She nodded.

"And did he call himself Frank Merrill?"

Again she nodded.

"Where is he now?"

She nodded, this time at him.

"But, great heavens," said Frank, with a gesture of despair, "you do not suggest that I am the man?"