My Strangest Case Part 27

The old man obeyed and led us by a winding path through the orangery for upwards of a quarter of a mile. At the end of that walk we saw ahead of us a handsome white edifice, built of stucco, and of the summer-house order. It stood on a small plateau on the first slope of the cliff and commanded an exquisite view of the bay, the blue waters of which lay some two hundred feet or so below it.

"His Excellency is in there," said the old man, in his Sicilian patois.

"Very good, in that case you can leave us," said the officer, "we can find our way to him ourselves."

The old man turned and left us, without another word, very well pleased, I fancy, to get out of the way of that functionary. Goodness only knows what memories of stolen vegetables and fruit had risen in his mind.

"Before we go in," I said, "would it not be as well to be prepared for any emergencies? Remember he is not a man who would stick at much."

We accordingly arranged our plan of attack in case it should be necessary, and then approached the building. As we drew nearer the sound of voices reached our ears. At first I was not able to recognize them, but as we ascended the steps to the pavilion, I was able to grasp the real facts of the case.

"Good Heavens!" I muttered to myself, "that's Kit.w.a.ter's voice." Then turning to Leglosse, I whispered, "We're too late, they're here before us."

It certainly was Kit.w.a.ter's voice I had heard, but so hoa.r.s.e with fury that at any other time I should scarcely have recognized it.

"Cover him, Codd," he was shouting, "and if he dares to move shoot him down like the dog he is. You robbed us of our treasure, did you? And you sneaked away at night into the cover of the jungle, and left us to die or to be mutilated by those brutes of Chinese. But we've run you down at last, and now when I get hold of you, by G.o.d, I'll tear your eyes and your tongue out, and you shall be like the two men you robbed and betrayed. Keep your barrel fixed on him, Codd, I tell you! Remember if he moves you are to fire. Oh! Gideon Hayle, I've prayed on my bended knees for this moment, and now it's come and----"

At this moment we entered the room to find Hayle standing with his back to the window that opened into the balcony, which in its turn overlooked the somewhat steep slope that led to the cliff and the sea. Codd was on the left of the centre table, a revolver in his hand, and a look upon his face that I had never seen before. On the other side of the table was Kit.w.a.ter, with a long knife in his hand. He was leaning forward in a crouching position, as if he were preparing for a spring. On hearing our steps, however, he turned his sightless face towards us. It was Hayle, however, who seemed the most surprised. He stared at me as if I were a man returned from the dead.

"Put up that revolver, Codd," I cried. "And you, Kit.w.a.ter, drop that knife. Hayle, my man, it's all up. The game is over, so you may as well give in."

Leglosse was about to advance upon him, warrant in one hand and manacles in the other.

"What does this mean?" cried Hayle.

His voice located him, and before we could either of us stop him, Kit.w.a.ter had sprung forward and clutched him in his arms. Of what followed next I scarcely like to think, even now. In cannoning with Hayle he had dropped his knife, and now the two stood while a man could have counted three, locked together in deadly embrace. Then ensued such a struggle as I hope I shall never see again, while we others stood looking on as if we were bound hand and foot. The whole affair could not have lasted more than a few moments, and yet it seemed like an eternity. Kit.w.a.ter, with the strength of a madman, had seized Hayle round the waist with one arm, while his right hand was clutching at the other's throat. I saw that the veins were standing out upon Hayle's forehead like black cords. Do what he could, he could not shake off the man he had so cruelly wronged. They swayed to and fro, and in one of their lurches struck the window, which flew open and threw them into the balcony outside. Codd and the Sicilian police official gave loud cries, but as for me I could not have uttered a sound had my life depended on it. Hayle must have realized his terrible position, for there was a look of abject, hopeless terror upon his face. The blind man, of course, could see nothing of his danger. His one desire was to be revenged upon his enemy. Closer and closer they came to the frail railing. Once they missed it, and staggered a foot away from it. Then they came back to it again, and lurched against it. The woodwork snapped, and the two men fell over the edge on to the sloping bank below. Still locked together they rolled over and over, down the declivity towards the edge of the cliff. A great cry from Hayle reached our ears. A moment later they had disappeared into the abyss, while we stood staring straight before us, too terrified to speak or move.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE WOODWORK SNAPPED, AND THE TWO MEN FELL OVER THE EDGE."]

Leglosse was the first to find his voice.

"My G.o.d!" he said, "how terrible! how terrible!"

Then little Codd sank down, and, placing his head upon his hands on the table, sobbed like a little child.

"What is to be done?" I asked, in a horrified whisper.

"Go down to the rocks and search for them," said the Sicilian officer, "but I doubt if we shall be able to find them; the sea is very deep off this point."

We went! Kit.w.a.ter's body we discovered, terribly mutilated upon the rocks. Hayle's remains were never found. Whether he fell into the deep water and was washed out to sea, or whether his body was jammed between the rocks under the water, no one would ever be able to say. It was gone, and with it all that were left of the stones that had occasioned their misery.

Codd did not accompany us in the search, and when we returned to the villa above he was not to be found. Never since the moment when we left him sobbing at the table have I set eyes on him, and now, I suppose, in all human probability I never shall.

Later on we returned to Palermo to break the news to Miss Kit.w.a.ter.

Shocked though she was, she received the tidings with greater calmness than I had expected she would do. Perhaps, after all, she felt that it was better that it should have ended so.

Three years have elapsed since we paid that terrible visit to Palermo.

It may surprise you, or it may not, when I say that I am now a married man, Margaret Kit.w.a.ter having consented to become my wife two years ago next month. The only stipulation she made when she gave her decision was that upon my marriage I should retire from the profession in which I had so long been engaged. As I had done sufficiently well at it to warrant such a step, I consented to do so, and now I lead the life of a country gentleman. It may interest some people to know that a certain day-dream, once thought so improbable, has come true, inasmuch as a considerable portion of my time is spent in the little conservatory which, as I have said elsewhere, leads out of the drawing-room. I usually wear a soft felt hat upon my head, and as often as not I have a pipe in my mouth.

Every now and then Margaret, my wife, looks in upon me, and occasionally she can be persuaded to bring a young Fairfax with her, who, some people say, resembles his father. For my own part I prefer that he should be like his mother--whom, very naturally, I consider the best and sweetest woman in the world.

~THE END~