In seemly, splendid fashion she passed and it shall not be recorded that the man this glorious woman loved made an end of his days with less distinction and propriety.  To die on the gallows is to do what many others have done; I will condescend to no such ignominy.  Ganns understood me well enough for that.  Did he not warn the police how I had been a dentist, and advised them to examine my mouth with care?  He alone realized something of my genius, but not all.  Only our peers can judge us; and such men as I come like lonely comets into the atmosphere of earth and lonely pass away.  Our magnitude terrifies—­and the herd of men thanks God when we disappear.  Indeed I was unusually blessed, for I had a greater than myself for companion on my voyage.  Like twin stars we cast a blended light; we shone and vanished together, never to be named apart henceforth.

Let not my legacy to Peter Ganns be forgotten, or that I appoint Mark Brendon executor and residuary legatee.  With him I have no quarrel; he did his best to save the situation for us.  You ask, “How shall a man condemned to death and watched day and night that he may lay no hand upon himself—­how shall this man make his own departure?” Before these words are read throughout the world, you will learn the answer to that question.

I think there is nothing more to say.

“Al finir del gioco, si vede chi ha guadagnato.” “At the end of the game we may see the winner.”  But not always, for sometimes the game is drawn and honours are easy.  I have played a drawn game with Peter Ganns and he will not pretend a victory, or withhold the first applause where it belongs.  He knows that, even if we were equal, the woman was greater than either of us.

Farewell,
GIUSEPPE DORIA.

* * * * *

Ten days after Peter Ganns had read this narrative and its sequel at his snug home outside Boston, there awaited him, upon his breakfast table, a little parcel from England.  The packet suggested an addition to Peter’s famous collection of snuffboxes.  He had left certain commissions behind him in London and doubted not that a new treasure awaited him.  But he was disappointed.  Something far more amazing than any snuffbox now challenged his astonished eyes.  There came a long letter from Mark Brendon also, which repeated information already familiar to Peter through the newspapers; but added other facts for him alone.

NEW SCOTLAND YARD, 20 October 1921.

MY DEAR PETER GANNS:  You will have heard of Pendean’s confession and message to you; but you may not have read full details as they concern you personally.  I inclose his gift; and it is safe to bet that neither you nor any man will henceforth possess anything more remarkable.  He made a will in prison and the law decides that I inherit his personal estate; but you will not be surprised to learn that I have handed it over to the police orphanages