Much Darker Days | Page 8

them an additional 'light': Since that year there has been no weather
like it.
Answers may be sent to the Puzzle Editor of Truth.
Day by day Philippa grew better and better. This appears to be the
usual result, of excessively seasonable weather acting on a constitution
previously undermined by bigamy, murder, and similar excesses.
I spare all technical summary of the case, sufficient to say that this was
one of the rare instances in which the mind, totally unhinged, is
restored to its balance by sixty drops of laudanum taken fasting, with a
squeeze of lemon, after violent exercise on an empty stomach.
The case is almost unique; but, had things fallen out otherwise, this
story could never have been got ready in time to romp in before the
other Christmas Annuals.
Matters would have become really too complicated!
As Philippa recovered, it became more and more evident even to the
most dilatory mind that the sooner she left the scene of her late
unrehearsed performance the better.
The baronet had not yet been missed--indeed, he never was missed, and
that is one of the very most remarkable points in the whole affair.
When he did come to be missed, however, he would naturally be
sought for in the neighbourhood of the most recent and attractive of his
wives.
That wife was Philippa.

Everything pointed to instant flight.
But how was I to get Philippa to see this? Ex hypothesi she knew
nothing of the murder. On the other hand, all her pure, though
passionate nature would revolt against sharing my home longer than
was necessary. But would not the same purity prevent her from
accompanying me abroad?
Brother and sister we had called ourselves but Philippa had never been
the dupe of this terminology.
Besides, was not her position, in any case, just a little shady?
An idea now occurred to me for the first time. Many men would long
ere now have asked their mothers to chaperon them. It flashed across
me that I had a mother.
He who says 'mother' says 'chaperon.'
I would take my Philippa to my mother. Philippa was now completely
convalescent.
I can only attribute my lingering to the sense of fatality that all things
would come round and be all square.
Love I had laid aside till I could see my way a little clearer in the
certainly perplexing combination of circumstances. Nevertheless,
Philippa, I say it advisedly, seemed to me a good deal more pure and
innocent than when we first met. True, she had been secretly married to
a man under a name which she knew to be false.
True, she had given birth to a baby whose later fate remains a mystery
even to this day. True, her hands were stained with the blood of Sir
Runan Errand.
But why speak of Redistribution, why agitate for Woman's Suffrage, if
trifles like these are to obstruct a girl's path in society?
Philippa's wrongs had goaded her to madness. Her madness was

responsible for the act. She was not mad any longer. Therefore she was
not responsible. Therefore Philippa was innocent.
If she became mad again, then it would be time to speak of guilt.
But would these arguments be as powerful with a British as they
certainly would have proved with a French jury?
Once Philippa seemed to awaken to a sense of the situation.
Once she asked me 'How she came to my home that night?'
'You came out of the whirling snow, and in a high state of delirium,' I
answered, epigrammatically.
'I thought I came on foot,' she replied, dreamily.
'But, Basil,' she went on, 'what afterwards? What's the next move, my
noble sportsman?'
What, indeed! Philippa had me there.
Clearly it was time to move.
In order to avert suspicion, I thought it was better not to shut up my
house.
For the same purpose, I did a little in crime on my own account.
A man tires of only being an accessory.
William, the Sphynx, obviously 'was in the know,' as sporting
characters say. Was in the know of what was in the snow! I must
silence William.
I took my measures quietly.
First I laid in two dozen of very curious pale sherry at half-a-crown.

I bought each bottle at a separate shop in a different disguise (making
twenty-four in all), that my proceedings might not attract attention.
I laid down the deadly fluid with all proper caution in the cellar.
At parting from William I gave him five shillings and the cellar key,
telling him to be very careful, and await my instructions.
I knew well that long before my 'instructions' could reach him, the
faithful William would be speechless, and far beyond the reach of
human science.
His secret would sleep with the White