“ ‘Because in that moment an idea passed like a flame of fire through my brain. I saw the gates of a prison open to me. I might escape them; I could escape them, and by a word. But if I did, I was a dead man. A prison? Why, in that instant of time, when thoughts went roaring like a tempest through my head, I realized that the confines of a cell would surely and absolutely shelter me from those enemies who had made each day a torment which I would give anything to annihilate. The long knife of an assassin would never pierce the stone walls of a dungeon. To me they would prove a refuge, a salvation.
“ ‘To tell you of this strange, this bizarre inspiration occupies an appreciable time; but it presented itself to my tortured senses with the swiftness of light. Remember, I had to act with the quickness of a man whose head is in the tiger’s jaws, and who feels those jaws closing.
“ ‘I made my choice. I tossed the pearls at the feet of Sir Hugo Parly. “I have lost,” I said, grimly, “and I must take the consequences.”
“ ‘You know what those consequences were, gentlemen. I received a sentence of two years’ imprisonment. The thief might have left traces of himself, but in the circumstances no one dreamed of looking for any such thing. Yet I was as innocent as yourselves of the crime for which I was convicted.
“ ‘Do I regret my decision? I do not. I am convinced that it kept me on the right side of a grave. The question which confronts me now is — can you accept my story?
“ ‘I dare not hope that you will. The situation I have described must seem to you so unusual as to be almost fantastic. Yet my future rests upon your verdict; it is for you to decide if I am to know a relative happiness, or to be extinguished.’
“As Wayridge concluded his story he lifted his haggard eyes and looked at us steadily for the first time. What he saw did not encourage him.
“ ‘I am asking a big thing of you,’ he went on. ‘I want reinstatement among decent men and women. This you can give me by accepting the facts which I have placed before you. Your position and your influence can remove the brand of felon which marks me. God knows I need friends, and God knows I have done nothing to lose them.’ ”
“We still remained silent, each furtively glancing at the other.
“ ‘I see that I am not believed,’ said Wayridge, circles of crimson burning in the wasted hollows of his cheeks. ‘I must admit that I did not entertain much hope of convincing you. If I stood where you are I should probably share your incredulity.’
“Mansford was the first among us to break the silence. He said, blurtingly:
“ ‘Are we to assume, now that you are discharged, that you are still menaced by this secret society?’
“ ‘The Society of the Flail was rooted out and practically exterminated fifteen months ago,’ replied Wayridge, eagerly and anxiously. ‘I read the news in one of the newspapers, in the prison library. It was uprooted as a body. Most of its individual members still exist, I suppose; but they are not to be feared by me, the organization being destroyed.’
“ ‘I seem to remember reading about it myself,’ said Howis.
“ ‘I think you will agree with me, gentlemen,’ spoke out Bailey, turning to us, ‘that any judgment we may pass upon this matter must be influenced by the evidence of Hanlon, whom Wayridge took into his confidence an hour or two before the theft at Sir Hugo Parly’s house. You admitted, Hanlon, did you not, that Wayridge told you that he feared he would be murdered before the morning?’
“ ‘Oh, yes, he told me all about that matter,’ assented Hanlon, dryly.
“ ‘But you did not think fit to mention it at Wayridge’s trial?’ continued Bailey.
“ ‘Certainly not,’ answered Hanlon, in the same dry tone. ‘Wayridge’s story of taking guilt upon himself to save his skin did not occur to me. And if it had, I should have rendered him doubtful service by speaking.’
“ ‘Possibly, at the time, you concluded that Wayridge had invented what he told you?’ pressed Bailey. ‘You were annoyed with him for trying to throw dust in your eyes? In short, you had not the least doubt of his trying to steal Lady Parly’s pearls?’
“ ‘No; and I see no reason for changing my opinion now,’ said Hanlon, coolly.
“At those words Wayridge lifted his head, hesitated a moment, then walked towards the door. Wheeling round he faced us with a sudden air of resolution which lighted up his worn face.
“ ‘Wait!’ he called out, sharply and clearly. ‘I hoped that you might accept my story without my bringing a painful truth as its witness. But I see the necessity of my proving it, and I will hesitate no longer. The Society of the Flail marked each of its members, upon the palm of the right hand, with a representation of the instrument of which it bore the name — a Flail.
“ ‘You think that the peril which threatened me was not sufficient to drive me into a prison for shelter? You doubt that part of my story? Then I will show you how imminent it was, how sickeningly real. When Hanlon, there, among others, rushed into the room and found me apparently escaping with the necklace, he threw up his right hand in surprise; and I saw, on his palm, the dreaded mark of the Flail! The agent of the Society, the man sent to kill me, was one of yourselves!’
“As a gasp of astonishment left our lips, Hanlon cried out: ‘That’s an infernal lie!’ He rushed to the door.
“It was a lightning dash, but not quick enough to beat Wayridge. He caught Hanlon’s right arm and twisted it so that the other screamed aloud. Wayridge forced it up, wrenching aside the fingers; and we all saw, black and sinister upon the white skin of the palm, the mark of the Flail!
“Before any of us could move, before we could recover from the shock of that dramatic denouement, Hanlon tore himself loose, dashed through the open door, and vanished.
“As for poor Wayridge, that climax to his sufferings completely overcame him. He went to pieces all at once. It is not nice to hear a strong man sobbing his heart out. Poor, poor devil.”
Storer had finished his tale. He filled his glass. “That is why I remember Room 333 at the Hotel Sumptuous,” he added.
“And you have excellent reason,” said a listener, when the murmur of applause had subsided. “I envy you the adventure.”
“And you all put Wayridge back into his proper niche in society?” said another auditor.
“We saw him thoroughly righted,” answered Storer, gladly.
“And, of course, Wayridge, having been one of the Flail, bore the mark upon his right palm?” questioned the man with the black cigar carelessly.
“I did not examine him personally,” said Storer.
“No? And did you ever hunt up Hanlon, afterwards, to see if the mark on his palm was indelible, and that it had not been put there, shall we say, for one night only?”
“Excuse me, sir, but you seem to be sceptical,” answered Storer, with asperity.
“Oh, I do, I do!” agreed the other, with enthusiasm.
“Then may I ask what the devil you are driving at?”
“Yes, tell him!” shouted everybody.
The other removed his terrible cigar and waved it gracefully. “Willingly, when I have asked him two more questions,” said he. “One: did you and your friends, Storer, make any kind of money collection for Wayridge?”
“We assisted him financially, yes — and substantially, I must admit,” was Storer’s irritated answer.
“Ah! Question two: can you recall any subsequent theft of valuable jewels occurring in the circle of your friends? The kind of daring haul, for instance, which might have been effected by a smart crook whom you had all taken to your arms, and so given him plenty of opportunity?”