ceived of me as something
altogether different from Michael Pendean--a creature richer and
rarer--and this effort of imagination enabled us both to create that
solid appearance of a new and quickening understanding that so amply
sufficed to deceive Bendigo Redmayne and delude Brendon.

It is impossible to exaggerate the unique entertainment we derived
from this phase of our deception. We proposed to let six months pass
before the death of Bendigo Redmayne, and we were already
contemplating details and considering how best to bring his brother
back upon the stage for the purpose of Ben's destruction, when Mark
Brendon blundered in upon us once again. He came very pat with calf
love in his eyes; and it seemed that he might well assist us once
more and apply his limited attainments to the problem of our sea
wolf's approaching exit. Because we knew our Marco well, by this
time, and perceived how useful he might be in disseminating that
atmosphere of reality so desirable in cases such as these.

We were called upon to act quickly--so quickly that the first steps
were taken before the last had been fully planned; but the place,
the time of long, dark nights and other circumstances--these all
lent value and assistance to the acute operations now undertaken. I
swiftly brought Robert Redmayne to life; and though, with more
leisure for refinements, I should not have clothed him in his old
attire, yet that crude detail possessed a value of its own and
certainly served to deceive Brendon, who, before the sudden
apparition under that night of storm, did not stop to be logical or
weigh probability. In the windy moonlight he saw the red head, huge
mustache and brass-buttoned waistcoat of Robert Redmayne, and any
question of detail escaped him in the whirl of the larger emotions
and suspicions awakened by such an unexpected vision.

Doubtless he was thinking of Jenny and speculating with deep unrest
how he might approach that lonely and lovely woman. Nor had he
missed my attractions and we may feel sure that jealousy shared his
heart with passion. Upon these reflections broke Redmayne, the
murderer, and Marco's first thought was doubtless unflattering to
the residents of "Crow's Nest." What he designed to do next morning
I cannot say, but we determined his actions from the other end.
Having first appeared before him by Black Wood and lifted the
curtain on the second act of my romantic comedy, I remained there a
while, then ascended