As Simon Lock moved to obey the revolver followed his head at a distance of about three inches. Never in his life had Richard been so happy. In a minute Raphael Craig was free.
‘Take his place,’ Richard commanded.
In another two minutes Simon Lock was bound as Raphael Craig had been.
‘Come with me, dear old man. We will leave him. Mr. Lock, your motor-car is in a stable-yard off Adelphi Street. You can have it in exchange for the car which you stole from me a few hours ago.’
He took Raphael Craig’s arm, and the old man suffered himself to be led out like a child.
Within a quarter of an hour father and adopted daughter were in each other’s arms at Adelphi Terrace. The drama was over.
Two days later the evening papers had a brilliantly successful afternoon, for their contents bills bore the legend: ‘Suicide of Simon Lock.’ It was a great event for London. Simon Lock’s estate was found to be in an extremely involved condition, but it realized over a million pounds, which was just about a tenth of what the British public expected. The money, in the absence of a will, went to the heir-at-law, a cousin of the deceased, who was an army contractor, and already very rich. The name of this man and what he did with his million will be familiar to all readers. The heir-at-law never heard anything of the Princesse shares, for Raphael Craig, immediately on the death of his colossal enemy, destroyed the contracts, and made no claim whatever. This act cost him a hundred thousand pounds in loss of actual cash outlay, but he preferred to do it. Raphael Craig died peacefully six months later. Both the girls who had called him father were by that time married—Teresa to Richard and Juana to Nolan, the detective. It was indeed curious that, by the accident of fate, Raphael should have been saved from the consequences of the crime of uttering false coin by the spell exercised by those girls over two separate and distinct detectives. The two detectives—one professional, the other amateur—subsequently went into partnership, Nolan having retired from Scotland Yard. They practise their vocation under the name of ———— ———— But you will have guessed that name, since they are the most famous firm in their own line in England at the present day.
And Richard says to his wife: ‘I should never have saved him. Everything might have been different if your courage had not kindled mine that morning after I swooned by the roadside in Watling Street.’