“Is this really true?” I exclaimed, in amazement.
“Yes. You will now understand why I shadowed you so closely. It was in order that no harm should befall you.”
“But my arrest – ” I said, utterly bewildered at this fresh feature the mystery presented – a plot against my own life.
“The villain suddenly altered his tactics, presumably because he would be running too great a risk by killing you. He therefore returned here, placed the seals and other articles among your possessions, and afterwards gave information to the police which led to your committal.”
“What could have been the motive of all this?”
I asked, my astonishment increasing at such revelations. “We were friends; I had done him no wrong.”
“The motive was a sufficiently strong one; that of obtaining your fortune.”
“How?”
“Cannot you see the depths of the plot? He was aware you had made a will leaving everything to Vera, therefore, if you died, she would possess the estate. In that case he hoped to marry her, and failing this, his father could give information which would secure her conviction and exile as one implicated in the attempts against the Czar. In either case he would obtain the money. You were the only obstacle, and when once removed, all would have been easy.”
“By fortuitous circumstances he did not succeed,” Vera said, kissing me fondly.
“No. He was a clever rogue, I can assure you. But he was unaware that I was in England watching his movements,” remarked Boris.
“What of his father?” I asked.
“He also has obtained what he richly deserves. Having been detected in assisting in the manufacture of bombs in Zurich, immediately on his return after giving evidence against you, he was convicted and sentenced to ten years’ imprisonment.”
“Serve the old scoundrel right!” declared Bob, in a tone of satisfaction. “It seems to me, Frank, old fellow, you owe your life to our newly-discovered friend.”
“Yes, that is true,” I admitted. “It is a debt I can never repay.”
“Don’t talk of it,” said Boris, tossing away his cigar-end. “My only desire has been to secure the happiness of my sister and yourself.”
“There is nothing to fear in that respect,” I said, laughing. “The dark clouds and terrible ordeals that overshadowed the first few months after our marriage have now passed, and brighter days, full of hope and enjoyment, have dawned. Our future lives will be devoid of sorrow, and there shall be no element of mistrust again to part us.”
“Frank, old chap,” cried Bob, enthusiastically, “I congratulate you on the recommencement of your honeymoon with all my heart. You and Mrs Burgoyne certainly deserve every happiness after the severe trials you have both undergone.”
Thanking him warmly, our hands gripped with the same hearty clasp as in days gone by.
While I had been speaking my wife had taken a little spray of stephanotis from her breast and with loving hands pinned it in the lapel of my coat.
As I kissed her passionately, she assured me, with a rippling laugh: “There shall be nothing wanting on my part to ensure perfect felicity, for I think, dearest, you can now place implicit trust in the woman who once was Vera Seroff, Nihilist.”