CHAPTER XXXIII.

CONCLUSION

If the reader cares to take the trouble to cross the wide green at Hampton Court, close to the fine old red-brick turreted palace, with its wonderful old-world flower-gardens, he may see the spick-and-span Guest House of the great Cardinal standing back amid the ancient trees, as it has done ever since the days when Anne Boleyn visited it with Henry VIII.

Of the amazing career of “The Chameleon” nobody is aware save Dr. and Mrs. Otway--who now live so happily there--the police, of course, Routh, the old gambler, Lady Etta, and the adventurous Ashe. From all others the secret of the evil which pervaded the place has been strictly withheld.

The young couple are highly popular. Brinsley, having disposed of his practice and his corner house at Golder’s Green, is looking out for one in the West End, determined not to live upon his wife’s money.

The reconciliation between the pair was effected by no less a person than Gussie Gretton himself. He admired, perhaps even he loved, Sibell, for he would, indeed, have readily paid the fat commission which the adventuress demanded. But, realizing his mistake, as well as Sibell’s devotion to Otway, he one day went North, and, forcing himself upon Otway, described to him frankly and honestly all that had occurred.

At first Brinsley indignantly refused to see Sibell, whereupon Gretton turned to him reproachfully, saying:

“In that case, Otway, you’re not fair to the woman who loves you. Do give her one chance to explain with her own lips. I’ve known her longer than you have, and I’ve a right to appeal to you for her sake. Surely you can realize the hell she’s gone through since that unfortunate night? Come to London with me. Do.”

Otway remained obdurate, while Gretton, on his part, again declared that the meeting had not been planned, and nothing had occurred between them which he had not described. He admitted kissing her against her will, and for that he deeply and most humbly apologized.

That night, after obtaining his whilom rival’s promise to reconsider his decision, Gretton returned to town, while the early train next morning carried Brinsley to the side of the girl to whom he was so wholeheartedly devoted.

Explanations in that long, white-enamelled drawing-room did not take very long, for in an instant they were clasped in each other’s ready arms, he raining hot kisses upon her lips, while she sobbed for joy.

That night Sibell wrote to her aunt telling her the glad news, which, of course, created the greatest disappointment among those who had so cunningly plotted to part the pair, and so obtain a considerable sum of money if their clever scheme had been successful. Though Sibell was unaware of it, Lady Wyndcliffe had secretly been introduced by Ashe to John Dare, who represented himself as a Mr. Pearson, manager of the electric lighting firm which was fitting up the Guest House, and in that capacity he invited her to bring her American friend, Mr. Kimball, to see over the interesting old place.

This she did on the following day, when, without doubt, the homicidal old maniac, in one of his chameleon-like disguises, played some devilry with that deadly liquid in his possession, whereby Etta’s unsuspicious companion had become infected with that most deadly of all poisons, which he had so concocted as to produce a fatal effect within a week--as it had done, in mid-Atlantic. Sibell did not know till long afterwards that Scotland Yard was already on the track of Ashe and Etta, and that on the morning in Berne, Inspector Charlesworth had been in the adjoining room and had overheard the plot. It was he who, disguised as a cavalier, had gone to the masked ball at Gurnigel and warned her.

John Dare had revealed to nobody either his real name, or the secret manner in which he removed those who invaded what he had determined was his domain by right. Etta and Ashe only knew that he held some strange and astounding secret.

Etta Wyndcliffe, as soon as she learned the truth, feared to be implicated in the affair, and therefore left at once for Kenya Colony, where Wyndcliffe, ignorant of everything, of course, joined her, while Albert Ashe, equally fearing exposure--for at his suggestion Etta had taken Kimball to the Guest House, “to see if the evil would fall upon him,” as he put it--escaped to the Continent, where he still remains.

Only by the analysis of the dangerous secret held by “The Chameleon” of the _ipoh gadong_,[1] which is mixed with the inspissated juices of two jungle vines and the poisonous spines of certain fishes, have modern toxicologists been forced to admit the existence of an actual time-poison that can be absorbed through the skin, which has been strenuously denied, ever since mediæval days, by all chemists and pathologists.

Sibell, indeed, had a most narrow escape, for had she innocently handled her fountain-pen, she would undoubtedly have been stricken dead by the ink coming into contact with her fingers.

Hence men working in wonder in rubber gloves, after mysterious warnings, spent weeks in cleaning down the big house a second time, and in removing and planing down smoothly the sharp splinters of infected mahogany upon the big carved post at the head of the stairs, which had no doubt been responsible for those imperceptible pricks and scratches which had infected the unfortunate ones with the deadliest poison known to-day. When studying the problem, Otway, himself deeply interested in toxicology, suddenly realised the reason why women visitors to the house had escaped. The explanation was simple. They had touched nothing which the midnight intruder, with his green lamp, had with his satanic cunning arranged; for they wore gloves!

The public have not hitherto learnt the truth as here recorded, nor have they known of the strange history and astounding exploits of the criminal lunatic who swept away his imaginary enemies in that subtle and ingenious manner, yet for several years the French police had kept the weird old fellow under surveillance, because upon him rested the suspicion of at least two cases of secret poisoning--one at Bordeaux and the other in Paris--yet so elusive was he, and so chameleon-like in his constant changes, that the Sûreté could never obtain direct evidence.

His presence at Cookham was certainly with some evil intent against Sibell, but his young fellow-guest at the Ferry Hotel was really an astute young detective-sergeant of the T Division of Metropolitan Police, whose watchfulness was later taken up by the well-known officer, Inspector Charlesworth of Scotland Yard, and Detective-Sergeant Budd.

Sibell was deeply sorry when her two faithful menservants were compelled to so suddenly resign. By their constant vigilance her life had been spared, while Brinsley’s return brought her all the happiness for which she had craved.

At the time of penning this record of one of the strangest dramas of London’s hectic life that had ever been recorded in the annals of Scotland Yard, Sibell’s old hunchback guardian, the optimistic Gordon Routh, lives in three comfortable rooms on the upper floor of the Guest House, and is usually immersed in the intricate problems of the chances at roulette and the proving of the infallible “system” which he has invented to his own satisfaction.

The big file now reposing in the criminal archives of Scotland Yard, and the equally large records at the bureau of the Sûreté in Paris, record the career of John Dare, rubber planter in Malaya, who became a criminal lunatic. They show no parallel in the history of crime. Against him the infamous Neil Cream, with his tiny poison pills, which he administered to the unfortunates of Lambeth, fades into insignificance, for John Dare, of the house of D’Aire, had brought to London the secret of the one terrible Eastern time-poison of which toxicologists had now learnt by the analysis of that little phial of ink and poison found upon him after death. The formula of it is to-day kept the most profound secret by those who know, lest it might be used any day by enemies who desire to take human life with perfect immunity from arrest.

The many typewritten pages which constitute the police record of John Dare, criminal lunatic, _alias_ Bettinson, Pearson, and many other names, lying in the archives at Scotland Yard--a carbon copy of which reposes in the great department of criminal records in Paris--concludes as follows:

“John Dare, _alias_ Bettinson.--One of the cleverest, most elusive, and plausible assassins ever reported to the international police. Was in possession of a secret poison hitherto unknown to medical science, and his known crimes in England and France numbered eight. So alert and adroit was he in changing his facial expression, together with his attire and his calling, in order to wipe out those whom he believed to be intruders into his rightful possessions, that, by his associates and also by the police, he became known all over the Continent as ‘The Chameleon.’”

THE END

ENDNOTE

[1] Author’s Note.--The actual mode of preparation and formula I have purposely omitted, for most obvious reasons.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

Minor spelling inconsistencies (e.g. armchair/arm-chair, card sharpers/card-sharpers, etc.) have been preserved.

Alterations to the text:

Punctuation: fix some quotation mark pairings/nestings and some missing/invisible periods.

Convert the footnote to an endnote.

[Chapter VI]

Change “and an epergne of great chrysanthemums as a centre-_plece_” to _piece_.

“Ashe, the discreet, _obsequlous_ butler, a clean-shaven man” to _obsequious_.

[Chapter IX]

“and hence are _sacrified_ for firewood early in their growth” to _sacrificed_.

[Chapter XXVI]

(“It is most _unforunate_, isn’t it?” Then, turning) to _unfortunate_.

[Chapter XXVII]

“fair-haired débutante, to be sold in the _marrige_ market” to _marriage_.

[Chapter XXXI]

“uneventful life, with Edith Pearman as her _companian_” to _companion_.

[End of text]