"
"Ah! It was a paper. I can see it in your face. And was that paper of
importance to you?"
"Why do you ask?"
Calton fixed his keen grey eyes steadily on Brian's face.
"Because," he answered slowly, "the man to whom that paper was of such
value murdered Whyte."
Brian started up, ghastly pale.
"My God!" he almost shrieked, stretching out his hands, "it is true
after all," and he fell down on the stone pavement in a dead faint.
Calton, alarmed, summoned the gaoler, and between them they placed him
on the bed, and dashed some cold water over his face. He recovered, and
moaned feebly, while Calton, seeing that he was unfit to be spoken to,
left the prison. When he got outside he stopped for a moment and looked
back on the grim, grey walls.
"Brian Fitzgerald," he said to himself "you did not commit the murder
yourself, but you know who did."
CHAPTER XII.
SHE WAS A TRUE WOMAN.
Melbourne society was greatly agitated over the hansom cab murder.
Before the assassin had been discovered it had been looked upon merely
as a common murder, and one of which society need take no cognisance
beyond the bare fact of its committal. But now that one of the most
fashionable young men in Melbourne had been arrested as the assassin,
it bade fair to assume gigantic proportions. Mrs. Grundy was shocked,
and openly talked about having nourished in her bosom a viper which had
unexpectedly turned and stung her.
Pages:
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126