"You would make Braddock an accessory before the fact."

"Yes, and Mrs. Jasher an accessory after the fact. Cockatoo is the link,

as the actual criminal, who joins the two in a guilty partnership. No

wonder Braddock intended to make that woman his wife even though he

did not love her, for she knew a jolly sight too much for his peace of

mind."

"This is horrible," murmured Hope desperately; "but it is mere theory.

We cannot be sure until we read the confession."

"We'll be sure soon, then, for here comes the coffee."

This last remark Random made when a timid knock came to the door, and a

moment later the landlady entered with a tray bearing cups, saucers, and

a jug of steaming coffee. She was a meek, reticent woman who entered and

departed in dismal silence, and in a few moments the two young men were

quite alone with the door closed. They drank a cup of coffee each, and

then Hope proceeded to read the confession.

The story told by Mrs. Jasher commenced with a short account of her

early life. It appeared that her father was a ruined gentleman and a

gambler, and that her mother had been an actress. She was dragged up in

a Bohemian sort of way until she attained a marriageable age, when her

mother, who seemed to have been both wicked and hard-hearted, forced

her to marry a comparatively wealthy man called Jasher. The elderly

husband--for Jasher was not young--treated his wife very badly, and,

infected with the spirit of gambling by her father, lost all his money.

Mrs. Jasher then went with him to America and performed on the stage in

order to keep the home together. She had one child, but it died, much

to her grief, yet also much to her relief, as she was so miserable and

poor. Mrs. Jasher gave a scanty account of sordid years of trouble

and trial, of failure and sorrow. She and her husband roamed all over

America, and then went to Australia and New Zealand, where they lived

a wretched existence for many years. Finally the husband died of strong

drink at an advanced age, leaving Mrs. Jasher a somewhat elderly widow.

The poor woman again took to the stage and tried to earn her bread,

but was unsuccessful. Afterwards she lectured. Then she kept a boarding

establishment, and finally went out as a nurse. In every way, it would

seem, she tried to keep her head above water, and roamed the world like

a bird of passage, finding rest nowhere for the sole of her foot. Yet

throughout her story both the young men could see that she had always

aspired to a quiet and decent, respectable existence, and that only

force of circumstances had flung her into the whirlpool of life.




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