"I see that it's all up with me, so
I'm not going to lie like a coward. I've played for a big stake and
lost, but if I hadn't been such a fool I'd have cashed that cheque the
next morning, and been far away by this time."
"It certainly would have been wiser," said Calton.
"After all," said Moreland, nonchalantly, taking no notice of his
remark, "I don't know that I'm sorry about it. I've had a hell upon
earth since I killed Whyte."
"Then you acknowledge your guilt?" said Brian, quietly.
Moreland shrugged his shoulders.
"I told you I wasn't a coward," he answered, coolly. "Yes, I did it; it
was Whyte's own fault. When I met him that night he told me how
Frettlby wouldn't let him marry his daughter, but said he'd make him,
and showed me the marriage certificate. I thought if I could only get
it I'd make a nice little pile out of Frettlby over it; so when Whyte
went on drinking I did not. After he had gone out of the hotel, I put
on his coat, which he left behind. I saw him standing near the
lamp-post, and Fitzgerald come up and then leave him. When you came
down the street," he went on, turning to Fitzgerald, "I shrank
back into the shadow, and when you passed I ran up to Whyte as the
cabman was putting him into the hansom. He took me for you, so I didn't
undeceive him, but I swear I had no idea of murdering Whyte when I got
into the cab. I tried to get the papers, but he wouldn't let me, and
commenced to sing out.
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