E DICTU, he found out all about
her, and knowing, as you do, what a maelstrom of humanity London is,
you must admit my friend was clever. It appears, however, that the task
I set him was easier than he expected, for the so-called Mrs. Whyte was
rather a notorious individual in her own way. She was a burlesque
actress at the Frivolity Theatre in London, and, being a very handsome
woman, had been photographed innumerable times. Consequently, when she
very foolishly went with Whyte to choose a berth on board the boat, she
was recognised by the clerks in the office as Rosanna Moore, better
known as Musette of the Frivolity. Why she ran away with Whyte I cannot
tell you. With reference to men understanding women, I refer you to
Balzac's remark anent the same. Perhaps Musette got weary of St. John's
Wood and champagne suppers, and longed for the purer air of her native
land. Ah! you open your eyes at this latter statement--you are
surprised--no, on second thoughts you are not, because she told you
herself that she was a native of Sydney, and had gone home in 1858,
after a triumphant career of acting in Melbourne. And why did she leave
the applauding Melbourne public and the flesh-pots of Egypt? You know
this also. She ran away with a rich young squatter, with more money
than morals, who happened to be in Melbourne at the time. She seems to
have had a weakness for running away. But why she chose Whyte to go
with this time puzzles me. He was not rich, not particularly
good-looking, had no position, and a bad temper. How do I know all
these traits of Mr. Whyte's character, morally and socially? Easily
enough; my omniscient friend found them all out. Mr. Oliver Whyte was
the son of a London tailor, and his father being well off, retired into
a private life, and ultimately went the way of all flesh. His son,
finding himself with a capital income, and a pretty taste for
amusement, cut the shop of his late lamented parent, found out that his
family had come over with the Conqueror--Glanville de Whyte helped to
sew the Bayeux tapestry, I suppose--and graduated at the Frivolity
Theatre as a masher. In common with the other gilded youth of the day,
he worshipped at the gas-lit shrine of Musette, and the goddess,
pleased with his incense, left her other admirers in the lurch, and ran
off with fortunate Mr. Whyte. So far as this goes there is nothing to
show why the murder was committed. Men do not perpetrate crimes for the
sake of light